#and then you get another generation with like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

weltraum-vaquero · 2 days ago

Note

i was scrolling through pinterest and i came across a prompt: “i can’t focus with your damn hand on my— ooh..” i IMMEDIATELY thought of jayce 🫢 can i request sumn like that? i love your work so much 😭😭

Hi anon, this prompt drove me insane. Thank you so much!

Play (dirty)

Jayce Talis x GN Reader

Summary: A fancy play at the Piltover Opera is a good excuse as any to deck out. And an even better excuse to have some fun with your partner.

Word count: 2.5k

MDNI. Mature content under the cut.

Tags: Sub Jayce, slight exhibitionism, dry handjobs, heavy petting, alcohol consumption

Jayce could never stand still. There’s something in him that’s constant, restless, relentless. Always the type to fiddle, to twirl his pen between his fingers, to scratch at his own scruff in thought, to chew the inside of his cheek, to bounce his leg. His mind is a hyperactive, brilliant thing; equal parts blessing and curse.

He does it now, too — bouncing his leg, that is, under the fine silk of his prettiest burgundy slacks (his ass, though nothing to write home about, never failed to look tremendous in those. Something about the thin, generously revealing material seaming to the humble curve of his ass in a salacious display). Jayce taps his fingers on the sturdy oakwood of the theatre chair as he stares at the still lowered curtain, crosses his legs, sighs, uncrosses them, bounces his leg again.

It’s the final stretch of the second intermission, though the play isn’t particularly doing it for you, mainly because you’ve seen this exact rendition before, with Jayce at your side. Just… not from up here: an opulently designed balcony, all to yourselves, just shy of the stage. Generous courtesy of Salo for a favor taken rather than given from Jayce, a situation that’s been stressing him out something fierce these past few weeks. You digress. That’s not what matters anymore — he’s earned a break. He’s earned something good.

It’s a lovely opportunity to spend some time with him outside of the confines of his lab or your shared home, which is growing increasingly rare. It’s a lovely opportunity to put on your shiniest clothes and make a pretty sight for one another.

Undeniably, that’s been the best aspect of it. Jayce has been sneaking looks at you the whole time — perhaps bored with the play, perhaps too enticed with you. And you can’t exactly blame him, because you’re not doing much better either.

How are you meant to do anything when you have a much more captivating sight to take in, sitting tensely in the chair next to yours?

A dark shirt that hugs the proud swell of his chest just right (certainly something to write home about), a pretty burgundy jacket just the same warm colour as the fruity merlot he’s finished sipping on, lingering on his plump lips. Silk curling at the seams, stretching under the heft of his now thicker thighs as they rest on the seat, tie loosened just so, and he’s good enough to eat.

You lay a warm hand on the inside of his leg, and Jayce, as he always does, yields. Less on thought, more on instinct, always so eager, before he turns to look at you with a question in amber eyes gone chocolatey dark in the low light of the room.

“Hm?”

His cologne hits you in a peppery-sweet, floral wave as he leans in, leans closer, and gives you the attention you’re so clearly demanding.

“Should I get us more wine?” You make feeble conversation, more eager to hear his voice than his thoughts. He’s been sharing most of them in whispers throughout the play so far as is.

Jayce shakes his head, flashes a conspiratorial, boyish little smirk. “If I have any more, I might um,” he breaks out in a short, clearly tipsy giggle, “do something I really shouldn’t be doing up here.”

His hand finds yours, pinkies twining together in a near juvenile but vulnerable display of his affection, a plea for affection. And, oh, his eyes, though his pupils are blown wide, glitter mischievously like a cat’s about to pounce. Two can play that game…

“Mm. That would be a terrible look on you,” you emptily agree. “Think of the headlines… Man of Progress caught moaning during Winter Solstice play, Man of Progress bent over the railing on the opera’s most lavish balcony…”

Jayce nods, a little drunkenly. Leans in for a kiss before he breathes: “Terrible.”

You let him have it — how could you not? Let him sloppily lick at your mouth like an overeager puppy for a long, dizzying, smooth-merlot attempt at a kiss. He smiles into it, as if in thanks.

Before you give a gentle little push at the plush swell of his chest with your other hand, pacing him, pulling away to leave him in a dazed little stupor. His breath hits your now slick lips in a warm, wet brush.

“Intermission’s about to end.” You pat his thigh less sensually, more like you’d pat an obedient dog for a trick well done. “Better keep quiet and focus on the third act.”

It looks like it pains him to settle back into his velvet seat, so you leave your hand on the top of his now still thigh — a reminder, a promise. It keeps Jayce on his toes more than the narrative unfolding before you does. Well worked sinew draws so tight you can feel it vibrate even under the soft layer of plush fat on his thighs, and as the action in the play begins to find its inevitable build, you find your hand wandering.

Just to the inside of his thigh, first, where he’s softer, which he gladly offers up to you. Fingers draw patterns more intricate than the paisley on his vest, until poor, tormented Jayce begins to shift in his velvet seat. Tilts his hips this way, then that, then readjusts his whole frame in the seat with an awkward clear of his throat when it creaks.

The rich tones of a singular violin crescendos in sync with the dip of your hand further, up, up, until you reach that tense tendon on the inside of his leg, where his thigh seams to his hip.

And further inwards, his straining cock nudges the back of your knuckles through the silk of his pants. Jayce jumps with the contact… Poor, poor thing.

“Aw, Jayce...” It’s both pity and reprimand, a whisper so low he can barely hear it. The flesh of his thigh spills from between squeezing fingers; it has him lowering his head in shame and trying to breathe through it. If not for the sacred quiet of the imposing room, for the performers playing their instruments as deftly as you’re about to play him, he would have at the very least whined for it. A low, pleading, dog-like sound.

Instead, he shoots you a look. Desperate and dazed and wide-eyed all at once in the dark of the room, before it turns into a kind of anger that does not and will not bite. Nibbles on you like an angry puppy, more like.

“How d-do you expect me to focus when your damn hand is—“ and you give him what he wants, “o-oh.”

Grabbing a handful of the straining outline of his dick through his pants, rubbing just once, from the wet patch on the tip to as far down as the silk allows.

“Better?” You ask.

Jayce breathes a terrified, shivering sigh.

“I don’t know,” he whispers.

“I can stop,” you remind. He knows it to be the truth intimately; though he aches to please to a fault, Jayce has learned a thing or two about respecting his own boundaries by now. You trust that if he needs you to, he will give you the word.

“Don’t.” Armrests gripped so tight they could splinter, eager hips raise off the theatre seat to chase your hand until your palm cradles his leaky tip once more. Wide eyes flutter closed and cherry slick lips part in a muted expression of bliss.

“Then don’t make a mess,” you breathe into his ear. “And keep quiet. Can you do that, baby?”

Jayce nods desperately, and does a surprisingly great job at swallowing another moan as you twirl your fingertips around what should be the crown of his cock, silk gliding under your hand akin to well oiled skin. He lets it happen gladly, spreads his legs in welcoming especially when you reach further down, until the dainty weight of his balls sits cupped in the groove of your palm. There, you linger, simply holding him where he’s most sensitive, unmoving.

Jayce exhales shakily, baby doe eyes flicking between you and the hand between his legs in questioning, in hope. The soft, still cradle of your palm turns greedy as you feel him up, fingertips curling around the heft of his bulge, his cock pressing into your hand. All of him trembles with how he stifles a gasp into the back of his fist.

You simply knead at him idly, the way a satisfied cat would as it purrs, and make a show of diverting your attention back to the play you couldn’t care less about. It gets him off, in some capacity, to be touched but not paid attention to. It had made him soil his pants so quick, once, simply letting him have his pleasure against your thigh while you were busy with a book, and it’s a technique you employ on occasion since. Coupled with the fact that Jayce, touchy and needy as he is, hasn’t gotten much chance at release lately, you know for certain he will find it now, and fast.

The glossy silk has gone sticky wet at the very tip of his dick, so much so it even leaves your hand damp after an indulgent squeeze at it. Below, horns blare with the oncoming climax of the play, music daunting in its grandeur even from up so high. In spute of such an enticing distraction at hand, you can’t help but marvel at them as you palm Jayce’s cock. And you recognize the melody the very next moment, the thrill of hearing it for the very first time; just as you know the end Jayce is approaching with intimate familiarity, so do you remember the next part of the play.

It will go quiet for a long, breathtaking moment to draw the audience to the edge of their seats, the calm before the storm — and Jayce, judging by the sweat on his brow, the way he almost tears into the back of his fist with his canines, Jayce will not, cannot be quiet.

The realization must hit him at the same time as it hits you, because his free hand grabs yours in a death grip, a decidedly desperate attempt at halting the inevitable.

“S-stop,” he whispers, his lips meeting on the p just moments before the entire orchestra quiets.

You can hear every bated inhale in the grandiose room — but none of them as sweet as Jayce’s. The whole room buzzes, alight with the anticipation of the audience.

Jayce squeezes your hand vehemently, like the weight of his barely contained orgasm threatens to crush him. His thighs clench around your hand, his body curls, he exhales in a silent cry, before he presses his hand to his lips so hard it makes you wince. You lean in close enough to be able to hear his thoughts, let him hide his face in the fabric on your shoulder.

“Breathe,” you coo at him like he’s in pain, stroking your thumb up, then down the aching outline of his cock. It makes his hips jump. “Once the music starts again, I’ll take care of you.”

You can feel him nod his head against your shoulder, can feel his grip slacken, can hear the tension in the room crackling like lightning when a violin starts a short-lived solo that is soon joined by the rest of the orchestra in a tsunami.

Jayce lets go of your hand, spreads his legs as if to offer himself up on a silver platter to you — full, complete trust. You slip the buttons of his pants out of their eyelets fast, aided by the near oily slipperiness of the fabric, the press of his cock, which have the front flap popping open the rest of the way.

Your hand slides down the bump of his soft, fuzzy tummy, into his pants, his underwear, easily, because it’s warm, familiar territory. Cradling all he’s worth in your hand, you scoop both his cock and his balls from the confines of the silk, laying them out vulnerable and exposed to the cold air.

It forces a gasp from Jayce, fortunately lost to the music, instinctually going to cover himself with both hands at the sensation and the prospect of being at the mercy of such a grand, full room.

“I’ve got you,” you remind him. Deft hands reach for his breast pocket, stealing away his handkerchief from him. Even dazed like this, Jayce understands your intention easily, and wins another battle against his instincts as he lets his hands fall away from where they’re cupped over himself protectively. One hand fists the silk of his pants, and the other wraps around your forearm not in guidance, but in seeking, of your presence, of you, grounding himself.

Jayce goes perfectly still as you stroke his dry cock, from root to swollen tip. It can’t be satisfying, you know so by just the feel of your hand around him, the way his foreskin drags with the grip you have on him, up, over his leaky cockhead, then down, exposing him where he’s most sensitive. It can’t be good, but it’s enough, because Jayce whines, quiet and half-terrified as he hides his face against your shoulder, before he goes rigid with your next upward stroke.

And you do that thing he likes so much — his tip’s smeared in enough of his precum to facilitate an overstimulating twist of your palm around just the ruddiness of his crown. His mouth falls open in a silent wail.

Jayce is so easy. Shoots his load into the handkerchief you bring up to his cock just in time, lets you milk all his overwhelming orgasm’s worth into the fabric until he can’t help but clench his thighs around your still moving hand. Trembles in time with his twitching cock as you wipe the strings of cum off his sticky, swollen cockhead and stuff the handkerchief back into his breast pocket.

The orchestra quiets once more, for good this time, and the audience’s applause roars. There won’t be much time until the lights come on, so you make quick work of tucking him back into his pants, and once Jayce regains some of his mental footing, he helps you button them back up.

Just in time — the lights blind you, but not as much as he does. Sitting low in his seat, slick with sweat, disheveled in his best clothes, and smiling at you so wide and dopey he shines, Jayce is brighter than any light, any sun. His chest rises and falls at a fierce, breakneck pace as he catches his breath.

You lean in to grant him a well deserved kiss to the cheek, one he chases with his mouth instead, and smiles into when you lick what remains of the by now long dried merlot from the ridges of his lips.

It makes him smile wider, a blush that matches his suit perfectly blooms on his cheeks. He takes the hand you’d stroked him with, intertwines your fingers like the lovesick fool that he is. You squeeze back, like the lovesick fool that you are, and can’t help but gaze into his eyes even as the eager applause slowly fizzles out.

“They clapped for the wrong performance,” you whisper to him. “You were far more glorious than any play.”

#jayce talis #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #arcane jayce x reader #jayce arcane #jayce arcane x reader #arcane jayce #arcane x reader #reader insert #my writing

419 notes · View notes

dredgesnails · 1 day ago

Text

i know grian said he didn't know who got what powers (other than his own), but either he was lying about that or whoever did assign them knew exactly what they were doing because they feel like they've been made FOR them.

some of them are really obvious, like bdubs controlling time (both through speed and by sleeping), cleo getting to raise the dead (and grian getting to see skizz and mumbo again as a result), pearl getting to fly (arent her goggles and wings so moth-like? they are to me) and lizzie being a literal Shadow Lady. joel, bigb and scar all got powers that connect to their characters this season, like joel's affinity to parkour and bigb's whole creaking deal and scar really wanting to punch people far (and he's making a rollercoaster. what do you do with rollercoasters? you ride them...). etho "did that make you jump" slab gets to (literally) jumpscare everyone on the server and of course theatre kid rendog gets to pretend to be other people (he's also one of the few people who subbed in for another player during a prior season).

martyn's fits his lore as listener so well, grian's got the most watcher-like abilities of them all, and gem getting being able to see traps and communicate with the dead (one of whom is only there because he tried too hard to kill her) is brilliant with how she plays the game like she's got more control than anyone else (hello watcher/listener...?). finding connections with scott and impulse's powers might be more of a reach but to me they fit well because scott generally comes across as harmless and peaceful but he's also almost literally become a sacrificial lamb, and impulse switching places with other people makes me think of third life and his double crossing playing both sides schemes.

tango's might be my favourite because the frostwalker ability is so decked out deepfrost citadel to me, and he also gets to flee with extra flee (my personal favourite catchphrase of his). also (not to overanalyse) jimmy's power fits so well into his overall narrative as a canary who's broken his curse: he's never made it to a final episode, he's been grian's guardian angel (always watching, never seen) and with the canary gone from the mines there's nothing to warn the others so they're dead before they realise they're in danger.

514 notes · View notes

xx-obliviousfantasy-xx · 3 days ago

Text

Real. Societally we need to remember that unintentional harm doesn't make the harm less BAD.

2) (this is gonna turn political or something I guess)

... N o???? Not entirely.

Who is this in reply to in wondering

Absolutely NOT why they're called that in my community. It's because genuinely, when white women start crying, black and brown people are typically killed as the result.

For example (TW SA and Abuse I fucking guess): In the past, a lot of white women would rape black men or force them to do certain actions for them and they generally could not refuse. If they did, their life was GENUINELY at risk because the woman would lie about the circumstances to save her own ass AND/OR as punishment. ALSO, if they got PREGNANT by a black man, they would cry "rape" which, you know, ended with that black man beat to death.

Another example of "white woman tears" would be a white woman and a black woman disagreeing or getting into something of an argument, and the white woman starting to cry, especially if while telling the black woman to "stop being so aggressive" and "calm down." Even if they're literally just the same level of angry. But it doesn't even HAVE to be the woman saying anything like that because in (Americans society at least) people will ALREADY see that woman as the aggressor which puts her at significant risk.

And honestly, can even, unintentionally be manipulation because of the fact that crying is often a learned response into terms of anger as opposed to others because of how it gets people to treat you differently.

Which then

Like yeah that can be a fucking anxiety response and shit but that's STILL causing fucking harm and THAT is where you gotta understand that your tears are NOT without consequence for others.

Everyone is allowed to cry. There are so many situations where we are allowed to cry. Crying in general is not manipulative. And crying at a fucking film or the thought of a dog without legs or something? Not manipulative.

But in certain contexts? Even if not intentional...yeah.

And we people, who cry really easily, gotta learn how to kinda control it kind of better. Not bottle it up but also be able to just leave or whatever.

One time I was crying really hard and then realized I had stop even involuntarily crying and was just continuing to cry and was able to stop.

But also that was genuinely during a time when I was being abused so that was low-key different

Anyways

Don't listen to me. Idk what I'm saying. Listen to people with a PHD or whatever.

Everyone is so weird about people who cry easily. Fellas, is it evil and manipulative to *checks notes* have an involuntary stress response?

#obliviousfantasy633 #crying #tw abuse #tw rape

76K notes · View notes

ittybittyfanblog · 2 days ago

Text

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 4

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (vindicated!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, player wants to sock a certain 3D character in the face A/N: Here’s part 4! Also, a taglist at the end of this post! Just lmk whether you'd like to be added/removed, no sweat ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Happy reading!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

You swiftly pull up Reddit. And then Twitter (X) on another window. You’ve got to find answers.

Typing in “sENTIENT SENTINCE SENTIENCE LADS ML HELP” in the r/LoveAndDeepspace subreddit search bar, along with keywords that have anything to do with “breaking the fourth wall” and “recent major updates” on X, you quickly scour for anything that comes even close to your current situation.

Immediately, you see a bunch of mix-match results, some even dating as far as the first month of the game’s release. Your eyes skim through blocks of texts, hoping there’s a comment–or a tweet–somewhere that could shed some light to this conundrum.

Already, you see some discussion on sudden fourth wall breaks. But you’ve seen posts like this before, and they’re most likely pertaining to the way their LI’s gaze falls directly on the player’s line of sight when they’re in Dynamic Pose mode in Glint Photobooth.

The common suspects for this are usually Xavier and your resident headache (Sylus). It's one of the “known” bugs of the game, even so far as being choreographed, almost, from the way players intentionally pose the MLs at certain angles to attain the likeness of sentience.

You remember the first time it happened to you, way back when the Photobooth feature was just recently introduced. You were taking photos of Xavier–letting him pose freely in dynamic mode so that you could capture a more organic look, when his eyes “met” yours directly.

Of course like any other (delusional) player, you entertained the novel idea of actually being noticed by the videogame character you’ve formed an unhealthy attachment to. Got excited, squealed over it, felt an instant doki-doki on your kokoro—the whole shebang.

… Along with probably hundreds of other players who’ve experienced the same thing.

So, yes, these instances occur more frequently than one would think. Not really what you’d call particularly noteworthy.

Then you see the threads from players who swear that their LIs really understand how they feel during their tête-à-tête sessions. It sounds promising, and you spend a few minutes reading through their "testimonies."

—Until you surmise from what you’ve gathered that all of them only appear like they do. How Rafayel, Zayne (and yes, even Sylus) seem to know what they need to hear, from how accurate their generated responses are.

Keyword: generated. So, no. They still aren’t anything more than glorified soundboards with really good timing, however attractive it may be to think otherwise.

Ooh, that one sounds a little too bitchy, even for you.

It’s got nothing to do with the players, nor has it anything to do with how the game works, really – bugs and all. Fuck, you were one of those people who milked the fantasy over the same coincidences once upon a time. You were. Before the coincidences started to be anything but.

Before you had to worry whether you still have your mental faculties in order.

With every–misleading–post you stumble upon, you feel yourself becoming more restless. There’s a fervent glaze in your eyes and your typing’s getting diabolically worse. (you could barely read that last search input–bitch, how are you fit to work?) You’re sure that if you looked in a mirror right now, you’d look as deranged as you feel.

Xavier “bug” that looks so real omg?? Skip.

Sylus – New Voiceline? You check it out. Yeah, It’s just one of his newer–programmed–voicelines.

Conversations with Rafayel got ~too real~ all of a sudden. You wish that yours had stayed the way they’ve always been, but alas.

Stop feeding into my delusions [Zayne] challenge: Failed. Oh? You’re almost done reading the first paragraph of the Redditor’s post, when you catch sight of the latest update below:

Resolved. Uninstalled the game. Multi-banners are too expensive (See my other post). Okay, you respect that. Hear that, Infold—

You’re slowly losing hope. Clearly, your case is kind of… mayhaps a tiny bit… different. From the rest. Dare say, exceptionally so.

To what end, you don’t know. You’re left with more questions than answers, and the primary enigma isn’t giving you much to work with.

Without anything else left to do, you resort to mindless scrolling. You’re swiping up, scrolling endlessly through the Top Posts of All Time, and it feels like you’re about to reach the end of this damn subreddit… When an unassuming post from a deleted user catches your attention.

It only got a few upvotes, and barely enough comments to gain traction. Unless one’s desperate enough to have been looking as hard as you are, it just looks like one of the many random dead posts from months ago. Nothing special.

Even the title is unassuming: I think the game’s broken??

You start to read.

Hi, so uhhh I’m 2 months in the game and everything’s been going well and all… Until a few days ago. IDK if this is a bug ?? but my Rafayel’s been acting so weird lately….. Ik I’m gonna sound delusional, but it’s like he’s actually aware of me ME. Not my MC.

He’s got a bunch of new dialogues, and they’re all so accurately specific it’s creeping me tf out LMAO. IDK how the devs got THIS much info on me (like is this even legal) but they do. Or at least, Rafayel does? That sounds rly stupid out loud but yeah lol. Oh and he doesn’t even let me switch between MLs anymore. The game just… crashes? whenever I try to.

Always been a Rafayel main (he’s the reason why I installed the game in the first place) so I was REALLY ecstatic over what I thought were new updates from the game… buuut when I tried looking it up, I can’t find any related news from the official LADS channel(s) about recent patches or updates with this feature, and no one seems to know what I’m talking about???

I feel like I’m going crazy… Literally as I’m typing this, Rafayel’s spamming me with notifications. He’s so fucking clingy… I love it??

Plsplspls if anyone’s experiencing the same thing, comment or DM meee. I need someone to talk to, aside from the fishie lmao no matter how much he insists that he’s enough omg (?!?!!)

Holy shit—you can’t believe it. This… this is exactly what you’re looking for.

The six comments under the post ranged from calling it complete bull to outright mocking the OP, and you understand why the post didn’t get any more popular.

For a brief moment, you feel a certain kinship with the original poster. A tinge of… shame (?) washes over you as you scan through all the negative reception; it’s as if the harsh insults were hurled directly at you instead.

How fun. There goes your fleeting idea to post the same question on the forum, if all else fails.

Speaking of. Your eyes quickly dart to the small text just above the title to check their username—but to your utter dismay, you see (and remember) that it’s from a deleted account.

The user no longer exists.

God, that can’t be it.

You spend a solid twenty minutes trying to look up ways to retrieve information–contacts, socials, anything–from deleted accounts. No dice.

Deep in your gut, you know that whatever else you could possibly find on both apps wouldn’t compare to what you’ve already come across.

You’ve officially hit a dead end.

With heavy limbs and a downtrodden spirit, you haul yourself up from the floor—just to turn around and collapse face first on the sofa. A deep, drawn-out groan escapes you as you shut your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down from all the stuff that’s been boggling your brain.

It doesn’t seem like you’ll be finding a solid answer to your question (questions–in plural) any time soon. So what else can you do?

Well, aside from putting away your groceries–the currently-thawing fish and the condensing bags of pre-cut veggies aren’t going to store themselves inside a freezer anytime soon. A loudly meowing ball of fur has also been relentlessly clawing at your leg at the foot of the sofa for the past five minutes, demanding to be fed and petted.

Whoops. You hastily push yourself back on your feet to address these pressing tasks pronto.

…

…..

(Now that’s out of the way—)

You swipe your phone open–yet again–as you flop back onto the couch. And, maybe, you’re a glutton for punishment. Maybe you’re just a little too over the excitement of the unknown factors in play. Or maybe, you just want another shot—to try one last time–

What you know, though, is that whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed about stuff at work, or you need something to distract yourself with, you open the silly otome game on your phone to make yourself feel better.

So—that’s exactly what you do. Even if that silly otome game’s now the reason why you’re feeling so goddamned stressed at the moment.

Go figure.

The game boots up. You sullenly glare at the loading bar as it progresses from 35%....

68%....

95%.........

Once again, Sylus_v1.0 (!) greets you from the center of the home screen, looking exactly the same as he did last when you opened the app, which was–damn, has it really been over three hours already?

“At this hour, the day is just getting started,” he remarks nonchalantly, folding his arms across his chest as his eyes drift to whatever’s on his left.

You give him a deadpan stare; slightly wary, but overall unimpressed by the act. “God, I hope the fuck not.”

There’s no new content since your last proper login, as far as you can tell. At first glance, you see some of the regular, daily badge notifications, but nothing really stands out to you. There’s no unexpected red dot on the mail icon this time, nor is there any on the Hunter Info tab.

So far, so good.

With slight hesitation, you begin to speak, even if you aren’t sure whether your intended recipient can actually hear you or not.

“Um, so. I’m really kinda freaking out right now and–” You cut yourself off, swallowing down the frustration building in your throat. There’s an edge to your voice as you speak your next words, “it’s because you’re–you’ve been giving me mixed signals. I–I don’t know what to think anymore-!”

He remains unmoving, showing no signs of having registered what you just said. You sigh.

“Ugh, it sounds like I’m talking to an actual boyfriend or something. This is driving me nuts.”

Still no response.

“Can’t you give me a sign?” You whine defeatedly, trying to catch the eye of the pixelated man on your phone who’s resolutely looking at the right side of the screen. Is he purposely avoiding eye contact or what? “Like… I don’t know–blink twice if you understand what I’m saying right now.”

He blinks. Once. Fucking—

Does he think this is some kind of joke?

“I’m gonna poke your dick off,” You threaten him menacingly, your pointer finger at the ready to commit assault. “I swear, I’m gonna do it—”

Wait. Was that a twitch on his lips?

Pausing, you narrow your eyes at him, critical in your scrutiny for any sign that might reveal the truth to this stupid charade he’s putting on. Because it’s a charade. It has to be.

All of a sudden, embarrassment colors your cheeks as it dawns on you what you just said to him. What you’re poised to do. Fuck, you just wanted to get a rise out of him. Test the waters or some shit. Then again, if he’s actually aware– if he CAN actually hear you—

Quickly, you retract your finger away from where it hovers precariously centimeters above his crotch area. “Right. Sorry.”

Scrunching your nose, you press the Agenda icon on the corner, resignation sitting heavy in your chest. Since it doesn’t look like you’re getting any answers tonight, you might as well just do your daily tasks while you’re in-game, right?

So you go through the motions of ticking off each task on the list half-heartedly, collecting the subsequent rewards one by one; just enough to reach the hundred star mark.

It’s petty, no doubt irrational, but you steer clear from anything that would require you to interact with him. You start off with what’s easiest to complete: gifting Stamina, spending Stamina, spending more Stamina, and buying items from the Shop.

Speaking of items… You try your best to act indifferent as you catch sight of the staggering number of red dias that has recently come to your possession, there on the upper right corner of the screen. Before you could even recall the other materials so kindly gifted to you the other night, you immediately exit the Store window to go about your business after you’ve finished collecting today’s free loot.

You breeze through the Bounty Hunts and Core Hunt stages with excessive use of the Auto Pursuit option, rinsing and repeating until you’re almost out of energy. You don’t want to risk playing an actual battle, since your strongest Memory Cards are from the man you’re currently giving the cold shoulder to.

Also, you have no idea what to expect once you enter combat mode–and right now, you can’t be damned to know.

Before you know it, you’re done with the daily Agenda. Close enough, at least. You didn’t even have to interact with the white-haired male LYLA wannabe to get the hundred golden stars. Go, you.

Without anything left to do, you’re back to staring at the–now seated–man on the homescreen who’s still intent on avoiding you. There’s Mephisto perched on his finger, appearing in a plume of black feathers, projecting a holographic screen for the Onychinus leader to scroll through whatever evil juju he’s been up to lately—the very picture of calm detachment.

Almost a minute passes by.

You can’t help it. Poke. Pokepokepokepoke—

“Once you’re trapped in life’s banality, the only thing left is “staying alive.”"

“Oh, for the love of—is that a hint or not?!”

You really wish you could’ve talked to the person on Reddit about this. Ask them whether their version of Rafayel had also been this difficult, this uncooperative. It can’t be that different from what you’re dealing with, could it?

Just a chance to talk… You brood wistfully. To know what’s happening to them right now. Ask them for advice on how to provoke some type of reactio—

Suddenly, something clicks in your brain, and you almost bite your tongue to prevent the spark of anticipation from showing on your face.

"Alright, you win," you concede with an exaggerated sigh, raising your arms over your head to appear as if you’re simply stretching away the stiffness in your muscles. You try to inject as much reluctance in your tone. “You’re really not going to budge, huh?”

Again, you’re met with radio silence—not that you’re expecting a response at this point.

(Well, not yet.)

“That’s fine…” You trail off deliberately, drawing lazy lines across the screen with your pointer finger, until it stops right before the small message icon on the left.

With feigned innocence, you muse, “Hey, I wonder how Xavier's been doing lately.”

…

A beat. You almost believe nothing would come out of your last, and obvious, attempt at goading him but then—

Sylus throws his head back with a sigh, casting an almost exasperated glance at the ceiling. He flicks his wrist dismissively, and Mephisto vanishes in a puff of dark smoke. There’s an unsettling fluidity in the way his gaze shifts toward you; disconcertingly lifelike, when his eyes finally–finally–lock onto yours. An intensity behind those red eyes that makes the look feel unnervingly deliberate.

Your breath catches in your throat. There it is. The reaction you’re looking for.

A weary amusement frames the way he tilts his head sideways–with the way the corners of his mouth curve into a mocking smile, eyes never leaving yours.

He raises an eyebrow up as if to say, now what?

“I knew it,” you whisper shakily, eyes widening into saucers. “I fucking knew it.”

“Mm, took you long enough.”

Before you could even react to that, Sylus flashes you a two-finger salute and winks.

The game crashes.

“Oh, no, you don’t—" you growl, not wasting any second tapping the game icon again. It doesn’t even give you a chance to reach the main menu before it glitches, and you’re back staring at the widgets on your phone’s home screen. “Motherfucker.”

You keep trying.

And with every attempt, Sylus, freak of nature that he is, responds with another system crash. On the eight try, you succeed on entering the game and you feel a sense of relief seeing the loading bar—before, lo and behold, it crashes once more.

Your left eye twitches. Inhaling deeply, you hold your breath for a solid fifteen seconds before sharply exhaling through your nose.

You jab a finger on the icon of his dumb face again. You ought to change that shit as soon as this game of chicken lets up.

“You’re gonna let me open this app, Sy-Sy,” You sang with faux cheer. “Or, swear to god, I’m uninstalling this thing before you could even—”

… It loads successfully before you could even finish your sentence.

“Alright, alright.”

There he is; closer to the screen now, wearing a faint smile, as though trying to stifle a full-on grin from breaking across his face. He looks thoroughly entertained by the entire situation, like it’s the most fun he’s had in ages. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“You–you—” Sputtering, you glare at him, betrayal in your eyes. “You’re a fucking ass!”

“And you’re an absolute delight to play with, kitten,” Sylus coos at you, his smirk widening. But when he catches the trembling jut on your bottom lip, the amused glint in his eyes softens into something that almost seems sympathetic, and dare you say–apologetic?

“For what it’s worth, I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to tell you. I couldn’t resist teasing you a little—but looking at you now, I see I might’ve taken it too far,” he murmurs, bowing his head slightly in a show of contrition. “I’m sorry, little dove.”

You press your lips together, your gaze darting away from the screen. “I thought I was going crazy.” As opposed to now? “B-but, um–it’s all good, I guess.”

A flush creeps up your neck when you hear him chuckle.

Fuck, this is really happening, the hysterical thought rushes to your mind, unbidden. Chat, what’s the plan?

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 <3

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #sylus qin

319 notes · View notes

feeder86 · 3 days ago

Text

Guy Again and Again

Hyde Park was incredible during the Fall. Guy couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else when the leaves started changing colour. He’d lived in London for three years now and had happily started to put down roots. Like any major city, he’d paid an absolute fortune for his house, but it had been necessary to set himself up and enjoy all that the city had to offer. There was always something happening, always new folks to meet and beautiful people to seduce. When he’d been offered a role back home for even more money, he’d declined it, using it as leverage instead to climb even higher up in his company and then side-step into yet another high paying position at another firm. His ambition was celebrated here and Guy earned himself the cringe-worthy reputation of being one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.

“Guy, won’t you come and meet my young lad?” called Sheridan, as Guy was strolling through to his large office.

Guy sighed and glanced quickly over at the others in the space, knowing that they were all feeling exactly the same way. Whilst this was an incredible company to work for, the nepotism involved in the majority shareholder inserting his twenty-two year old son into such a major position, straight out of university, had frustrated them all.

Following the company’s owner into his office, Guy plastered a happy enough smile onto his face and held out his hand to shake the young man’s hand. He’d seen pictures of Robert in the past, on his father’s yacht and throughout the tabloids as he dated London’s latest ‘It Girl’ setting all the fashion trends. They’d also briefly crossed paths the summer before last, when using Robert’s family’s private box at Wembley Stadium. Soccer was a huge game over here and Guy had found himself quite captivated by it.

“Nice to see you again,” Guy offered, shaking the handsome boy’s hand.

“Robert is very keen to get started!” his pompous father announced happily. “I’m sure he’s just what this company needs: a bit of fresh energy injected into it.”

Guy nodded, despite feeling that Robert was going to be nothing more than dead wood for them all to carry. “We’re all delighted to have you here!” he lied.

“My father says you’re the absolute best,” Robert chimed in. “I think he seriously believes you’re going to rule the world one day! I’m definitely looking forward to learning from you this week.”

Guy knew he had been stitched up straight away. “Let me guess. You’re shadowing me this week?” he asked tentatively.

“That’s the plan!” Sheridan nodded, already grabbing his jacket to leave for his golf match at ten.

Guy looked outside into the corridor to see all the sly, grinning faces of his colleagues. They’d all known he was about to be saddled with the new boy, even before he did. Leading the way down the corridor, he noticed an additional computer had been set up at his enormous desk, with space for Robert to work alongside him; typical Sheridan making ridiculous calls yet again.

Robert was generally pretty intelligent and seemed to pick up on what Guy was saying with little effort on his part. Professionally, he appeared no different to the genuinely ambitious young interns they had on the floors below. But, in reality, he was so far removed from them, starting a job at the same level that had taken Guy ten years to even qualify for; not to mention all the incredible hard work and many, many promotions and job changes to get where he was. Indeed, Robert’s privilege was obvious by the way he talked about his travelling and the numerous powerful people he had known ever since he was small. Perhaps, in some ways, that did make him better suited to fly up the ranks early. Robert wasn’t daunted by the bigger clients and there was a sharpness to his mind that was sometimes quite surprising.

“How’s the babysitting going?” asked Angela slyly during the brief time Guy was on his own.

Guy smiled back. He wanted to joke and tell her off for not giving him the heads-up about being stuck with Robert this week. But, to be fair, everything was going fine. “No complaints from me!” he replied, reminding himself that complaining about something that couldn’t be changed was a fruitless exercise at work.

They both stopped talking, watching as handsome Robert emerged from the bathroom looking as sharp as ever: the beautiful hair, the eyes, the strong jawline. Behind him, the female staff couldn’t help but get a peek at those tight glutes and imagine being the lucky lady who would one day get to marry such a fine, well-bred specimen as him. “Are we ready?” he asked Guy, pleased to be heading out to meet clients again; knowing that this was where he could excel.

Getting around London could be a nightmare at times. Occasionally, it was genuinely faster to walk; exactly what ended up happening after roadworks had made it likely for them to be late otherwise. The client was a man called Mr Geoge Evans, owner of an events space that the company wanted to acquire. He was tall and broad, with an immense, solid and rounded gut pushing against the large shirt painted across his torso. It was the feature that most people noticed first about him and the one thing Robert couldn’t seem to stop staring at the moment they started their meeting.

Guy remembered feeling embarrassed and wanting to kick Robert hard for the way he was looking across at the gaping buttons on George’s shirt. After everything he had said about being okay with having this young upstart shadowing him that week, the boy had to ruin it almost instantly. Guy thought on his feet, finding a reason for Robert to need to leave the room and contact the office. Then Guy quickly rounded the whole thing up as fast as he could.

“What the fuck was that?” Guy grumbled as soon as they were walking to the tube station, given that their car had still not been able to reach them.

“What?” Robert asked, trying his best to keep up as Guy stormed on. He didn’t lack self-awareness; he knew exactly what he had done and why Guy had felt the need to remove him from the meeting. “I wasn’t expecting him to be so…”

“Fat?” Guy finished for him. “That’s so ridiculous! You know that right?”

“I was just a little surprised, that’s all. When we spoke on the phone…”

“This is business!” Guy began lecturing him. “You can’t fall to pieces just because some guy doesn’t fit into your perfect world-view of what everyone should look like. You need to get your head out of those glossy magazines you and your girlfriend seem to spend so much time in!”

“Look, I’m not like that!” Robert tried to counter his mentor. “That’s not why I got a bit flustered.”

“Whatever,” Guy sighed, racing down the steps to the tube station. Ultimately, he wouldn’t be able to hang onto this misstep. Robert’s family were the majority shareholders and, no doubt, the twenty-two year old would one day take the reins of the entire company. “Look… there’s no harm done. Just… just don’t ever let that happen again, alright?”

Robert nodded, tapping his card to head down to the Central Line. “I promise!”

Guy didn’t mention the staring incident to anyone when he got back. Robert had been exemplary the rest of the time and it was clear that he had a talent to make it far; especially given his Oxford education. As the weeks progressed, he began to shine more and Guy learned to genuinely appreciate his insight into certain things. Sometimes British etiquette eluded Guy, especially with the types of folks who had been born into extreme wealth, like Robert had.

Likewise, Robert appeared to be impressed with Guy’s talents in return. “You’re pretty smooth when it comes to the ladies,” he laughed as they came out of one meeting.

“Plenty of experience!” Guy joked back.

“I’m guessing that’s why you work out so much?” the pretty boy asked. “It’s not as easy to sweet talk a female client when you have a giant gut spreading into your lap,” Robert chuckled; not realising that his joke would fall so flat.

Guy tried to bite his tongue. It had been the second time Robert had been casually sizeist. “Actually,” he shot back, “some of the most successful business leaders feel being larger gives them more presence to take charge of things.”

“That’s not what my father says,” Robert replied.

“Well, your dad doesn’t know everything,” Guy grumbled back, deciding to shut down the conversation before he started getting annoyed.

At the end of that first month, Robert had offered Guy to come along and watch the international football match in the private box at Wembley Stadium. He would be there with his girlfriend, of course, but Guy was also welcome to bring along a date as well. Martha had been Guy’s instinctive choice. She was loud, greedy and extremely overweight: the perfect choice to annoy someone so superficial and quick to judge others for their weight. Guy called her up, pleased with his plan, but was disappointed to hear that she was back home in Glasgow that weekend. He needed to find someone else - fast!

Ben had been the next choice for Guy. Somewhat smaller and more reserved, but always fun to be around. They had met at a club night for bears about two years earlier, when Guy had been intrigued by the little chub’s confidence to stoll about shirtless through the crowds. Happily, still single, Ben agreed to the date and Guy was delighted to find the man looking so much heavier by the time he went to pick him up. “Look at you!” he marvelled, getting out of his sports car to open the door for the large man waiting outside his apartment block. “Someone has been eating well!”

Ben blushed a little. He knew that for many chub-lovers, seeing someone they had slept with getting even bigger was bound to be a turn on, and he patted his large tummy proudly on the vast shelf that had developed. “I’m pleased that you approve,” he smiled, knowing that he was always in for a fun night whenever Guy asked him out.

The young couples’ faces had been a picture when Guy strolled in with such a large bear as Ben. It struck him that perhaps Robert hadn’t realised Guy’s bisexuality, making it a rather more educational experience for the boy that he had perhaps expected. Ben played his part well, naturally gorging himself and failing to notice his belly peeking out of the bottom of his shirt as he got up and down to cheer at the performance on the pitch. As such, Guy lavished him with attention, proudly driving him back home for his reward. He’d more than made his point, hopefully putting an end to the way Robert would try to casually fat-shame others around him.

Back at work, Robert’s new office had been decked out just as he had requested, shunting Angela down to the floor below. Despite the slow start last month, even Guy winced at how much the new recruit was taking on.

“Wendy has come to me asking to negotiate her pay,” Robert explained, walking into Guy’s office and closing the door. “I’ve been told pay reviews only happen in April?”

“That’s bullshit,” Guy replied, trying to get on with his own analysis work. “That’s just a standard line that is thrown out to try and delay these types of things.”

“Well, either way,” Robert continued, sitting himself down in front of Guy’s desk. “Paying her more is going to dent the progress towards the quarterly profits.”

“Then what does your gut tell you to do?” Guy asked, determined not to spoon feed Robert out of these awkward situations.

Robert paused for a second. “I think we need to give it to her.”

Guy looked up and smiled. It was the call he had never expected Robert to make. “Exactly right,” he nodded. “Wendy is an asset. I know Wendy. She deserves it. And, if you didn’t give it to her, she’d be straight off to another company. Finding a replacement for someone with her responsibilities is time-consuming and costly.”

“I knew you’d view it the same way as me,” Robert smiled. “You always see the bigger picture. Sometimes I feel like my father can’t.”

Guy nodded gently, not wanting to commit to badmouthing the major shareholder in front of his son, despite all the many things he could have said.

“You see people for who they are. And you have the sort of relationships around here that most bosses would kill for. They all respect you and want to work hard because you inspire them.”

Guy almost felt embarrassed at the open compliments and he wriggled in his seat. “Thanks,” he shot back quickly. But there was something in Robert’s eyes; a look, or a feeling. Was the boy developing a little crush on him? All the signs were there and Guy had been in this situation many, many times in the past. He watched Robert walking away, unable to stop himself from checking out the handsome glutes and allowing his mind to imagine what it might be like to fuck the guy. He wasn’t above Robert in seniority around here; there was no major conflict to overcome; especially since he only saw himself staying for another year at the very most. But could he really go there?

It came as no surprise that Robert’s relationship with his girlfriend came to a sudden end very quickly after that. He’d been complaining for some time about the toxic ideals of social media and the constant requirement to be ‘seen’ out in public as often as possible in order to boost her career. “She’s more suited to some actor, or someone who does publicity for a living,” Robert had explained as he shook his head over the fact that their break-up had made it into the middle sections of the national tabloids.

“You’re young, free and single now!” Guy had smiled. “You can take some time for yourself instead.” He hadn’t meant to sound flirtatious, but he didn’t seem to be able to help himself once he knew someone was into him. It was the way he had always been, and he didn’t suppose he would ever change.

“What can I get you gentlemen?” asked the attendant, heading over to their table in the small cafe where they were debriefing after a client meeting. The man was large and broad, with a giant stomach that pressed out of his shirt in a way a lot of the men from Guy’s past would have loved.

“Just a mineral water for me,” Guy answered first. He looked across at Robert and sighed in frustration as the boy stared rudely at that large gut.

This time, Guy didn’t waste any time, giving Robert a quick kick under the table.

“A latte!” Robert shot out, realising immediately that he’d been gawping. “And, uh… have you got any of those brownies left?”

“What the fuck is up with you?” Guy asked the moment they were alone again.

Robert shrugged as if he genuinely failed to understand why he fell to pieces around such obese men. “What do you think it’s like, carrying all that weight around?” Robert asked, still transfixed as the guy headed behind the counter. He glanced back at Guy who was dumbfounded by the question. “Oh, come on…” he sighed. “I saw you with that big guy that time. You must have asked him what it feels like to be so heavy?”

“It’s not something I think about,” Guy replied, seeing that Robert looked unlikely to drop the question unless he gave a more considered answer. “But, I guess I wouldn’t date someone unless they liked their body.”

“Really?” Robert asked. “You date people who actually like being overweight?”

Guy didn’t mind discussing his sex life, but it felt strange to do so with someone from work; someone he wasn’t completely sure he could trust just yet. Back in the early days of his career, it had been slyly advantageous to impress other guys with tales of his sexual conquests. However, as he rose up the ranks, he’d learned to keep these stories to himself, knowing that the expectations were very different up at the top. Now he shrugged, taking his time to reply and only say what he needed to. “There’s nothing sexy about dating someone who hates their body. When I’m with larger folks, it’s usually because they want to be that way. They get off on it.”

Robert sat up a bit and leaned in closer, stimulated by the conversation. “There are people who get off on being fat?”

Guy chuckled. “Of course there are!” There was still so much he could tell Robert; about the gainer boys he had fallen for in the past, and the multiple kinky encounters he had had with guys who were actively trying to fatten themselves up.

The water, and Robert’s brownie arrived at the table and the server promised to follow with the latte shortly. “How do they do it?” Robert asked, eyeing his freshly delivered treat. “How do they let themselves go like that?”

Guy frowned slightly. “Well, what you may see as someone ‘letting-go’ may actually be them building something better for themselves: a body that feels right for them and turns them on. It’s actually very empowering if you think about it.”

“And you think that’s sexy?” Robert asked earnestly; a sweet innocence shining through his bright eyes.

“Of course!” Guy nodded. “Someone loving the skin they’re in - there’s nothing sexier!”

Life at the office suddenly became a lot more relaxed as Sheridan started to take even more of a step back. Guy found himself with a lot more power to persuade the board without the older man’s old fashioned points of view tainting things. It also helped that Robert was so much more in-tune with him; they could present a united front and, although most of the others on the team still grumbled about Robert’s injection into the senior management team, they had to admit that things were running a lot smoother with him around.

Guy had seen so much more of the world since he had moved to work in the UK. It seemed like nothing to pop over to Italy to secure a contract, or fly over to Dubai to capitalise on a lucrative opportunity. Six months after Robert began at the company, the pair found themselves in Sweden, leading part of a business conference. At first, Guy had been frustrated to have Robert coming along, given that it was such a good opportunity to network and find his next career jump. However, it had also been easier having him to share the workload with.

“I didn’t know you were coming down here,” Guy smiled as he saw Robert arriving in the spa changing room just as he himself was dressed only in his tight speedos and pushing the last of his things into the locker. He saw Robert check him out and smiled sweetly to himself. He’d known for a couple of months now that if something was ever going to happen between them, then it probably already would have happened by now. As it was, Robert was very much in the friend-zone. “Are you here to use the pool?” he asked.

Robert shook his head. “I just wanted to try out the sauna,” he replied.

Guy scowled a little as Robert turned his back to start getting changed. In the last few weeks, he’d noticed a little softening of the guy’s jawline and, although it wasn’t always easy to tell under a shirt and dress pants, it did appear as though Robert had gained a few pounds since he’d started full time work. Guy should know, he’d seen more than enough pictures of Robert’s body in the celebrity gossip columns, back when he was dating socialites. So when Robert removed his shirt, Guy could immediately see that his suspicions had been spot on.

It was most obvious when Robert leaned forward to strip his pants; the way his stomach rolled up with fresh fat. He had love handles coming in, clear to see once he turned his back. And those glutes… well, they seemed a little more full that the pert buns Guy had admired when Robert first started at the company. Guy had to say something. He’d been staring too long. He reached out a finger and poked Robert in his stomach. “What’s all this?” he playfully teased.

Robert chuckled nervously and shrank away, turning back around to put his stuff into the locker.

“No, seriously,” Guy pressed on, poking both index fingers into the softness at Robert’s sides now. “Where’s all this come from?”

“I’ve just… not had much time for the gym lately,” Robert replied, stacking his clothes up.

Guy looked at Robert’s butt from behind and nodded in agreement. “Well, that’s pretty obvious!” he agreed. He’d seen lots of guys at the gym start to pack on a few pounds over the years. Often, all they needed was a reality check to get them back on the right path. “I think you need to start doing a little more cardio, buddy,” he declared, turning to walk out and into the pool area.

After a few decent laps, Guy pulled himself out of the water and headed into the sauna, finding Robert still in there, alone. His skin had turned glossy and oily, shimmering as his little roll of stomach fat started to peek over the waistband of his undersized swim shorts.

Guy knew how imposing his own body was: his large frame and well-trained, muscular physique. Even in his early thirties, there wasn’t an inch of fat to spoil his enticing abs and, if anything, he’d only become stronger as the years went by. He flopped down opposite Robert, unable to take his eyes off how chubby the pretty boy looked without his shirt on.

“So, when did all this start happening?” Guy asked, knowing that he needed to address what he was seeing.

Robert wriggled awkwardly and pulled his rolled up towel to cover his crotch and lower half of his softer midsection. “A few months,” he mumbled. “I’ve just been enjoying my food a little more.”

“No kidding!” Guy chuckled, surprised now by how much he could see the extra weight, even in Robert’s chest. “What’re you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Robert shrugged. “I don’t have the time to go to the gym now I’m working so much.”

Guy smirked at this and shook his head. “You mean you don’t want to make time for it?” he asked.

Robert flushed with a little embarrassment. “I’m okay with how I look,” he replied. His attention seemed to turn to Guy’s body instead, given how much scrutiny his own had been under. “Frankly, I had no idea you were so extremely toned,” he nodded at Guy’s torso. “Obviously, I knew you were super fit, but…”

“You’ve never seen me without my shirt on before?” Guy asked, intrigued and surprised at how aroused he was suddenly feeling to be gazed upon by Robert. He sat up straighter and leaned on one arm, posing slightly. There was something so sexy about this dynamic, making Guy feel more powerful and dominant. “How come we’ve never fucked?” he asked, knowing that it was always best to be blunt with the boys who were a little more shy.

Robert’s eyes widened and he stuttered awkwardly, like the overeducated, pompous boy he could very often be. Guy had always loved Robert’s upper class, bumbling English accent and the uptight manners that had been trained into him. It made it all the more fun to tease and flirt with him so blatantly. But with a larger company openly trying to poach him at the moment, Guy knew there wouldn’t be many opportunities like this left to have some fun with the boy. After all, the full benefits package was going to be presented to him as early as next week. He could be gone by the end of next month.

“Well?” Guy asked, pretending to be impatient for an answer. “Do you want to fuck?”

Within ten minutes, the pair were upstairs in Guy’s hotel room, kissing and undressing each other once more. Now that the barriers had been smashed down, Guy was surprised at how keenly Robert’s hands wanted to rub up against and stroke Guy’s erection. The moment the pants were down, the cute boy sank to his knees and took as much of it into his mouth as he could.

Guy exhaled in delight. It was always apparent when someone was genuinely into giving the best blow job they could. It was obvious now just how much he had underestimated Robert’s quiet attraction to him all these months. Like a tightly wound spring, the boy had energetically set to getting them both off the moment the bedroom door had closed, lustfully thrilled by how thick and heavy Guy’s hardness was.

The pair fooled around some more, Guy enjoying the reflections in the large mirror as the pair kissed in front of it. Those doughy little glutes of Robert’s looked so good, Guy knew he needed to take them as soon as he could, squirting lubricant into his hand and sliding it up between Robert’s butt cheeks. He spun the boy around in front of the mirror and gently inserted himself. He knew Robert wouldn’t be fully ready to take him today. It was a gift and a curse being so well endowed, with lovers needing at least two or three sessions to be properly broken in. Instead, Guy contented himself by getting as much in as he could and holding it there, training the hole to stretch. Submissive Robert appeared to love every second as he was held there, in front of the mirror.

“Does this feel nice?” Guy asked the boy, reaching around Robert’s hip to stroke his concrete erection; Robert watching himself getting taken by the older jock in the mirror.

Robert moaned back, his G-spot stimulated, sending his arousal into overdrive.

“Look at us…” Guy whispered, nodding towards their reflections in the mirror.

“I’m so chubby compared to you!” Robert quipped back, making a huge surge of blood pump through his boner, held firmly in Guy’s hand.

Suddenly, it all felt so very familiar to Guy. Robert’s fixation with larger guys had never been about looking down on them. Yet again, had the universe delivered another kinky fat-lover? Guy pressed his oversized erection in deeper, making Robert’s knees almost buckle underneath him. With one hand working Robert’s hardness, Guy used the other in a more experimental way, wrapping his fingers around as much of the fresh blubber in the boy’s stomach as he could, then whispering “It’s a good job you know I like fucking fatties, huh?” he teased. “You’re going to make such a cute chub…”

However close Robert had been before, a surge of pleasure seemed to rip through him. Great jets erupted from between his legs, making Guy chuckle at just how much of it there was and how forcefully it was being expelled from his body. He could always tell when he had just given someone the best orgasm of their life. And, for the first time ever, Guy felt that he didn’t need to climax himself in order to feel completely satisfied.

It was sweet how Robert fell asleep next to him afterwards. Sometimes when the sex was too good, Guy found that whoever it was would tend to imprint on him and become a little possessive. Usually, this was a warning signal for Guy to detach himself as fast as possible. However there was something too intriguing about Robert to give him up just yet. At 5am, he woke Robert with a kiss to let him know he was going down to the hotel gym and promised to meet him for breakfast at 6.30.

“No wonder that ass is so fuckable!” Guy teased, gazing at the plate of fattening meats and carbs Robert returned to their table with. He slipped his hand under the table, rubbing Robert’s knee. His intentions were clear: they were going to go back up to the room before the first session that day. He watched the greedy boy eating, wanting nothing more than to stick his hardness into the salivating mouth. For the first time, he found himself almost captivated by it; the act of eating. Robert definitely had some little hidden kinks when it came to the diet that had added a few pounds to his frame, yet it wasn’t yet clear how conscious he was of them.

Back in Guy’s bedroom, it was obvious how much Robert had overeaten and bloated up his stomach. Despite wanting to get rough and dominant with him, Guy took it slow and made it sensual, noticing how much Robert seemed to love it whenever Guy’s hand drifted onto his rounded middle. The eventual climax was as good as it got, ensuring that Guy broke all his own rules and brought Robert back to his bedroom a further three times before the end of the conference.

Robert’s butt was becoming quite the distraction back in the office. With the guy’s pants getting so tight, the swollen glutes pressed with devastating allure to the material: wider, under-exercised, softening and expanding - was there a more fuckable butt than this in the entire world? Guy knew he was in trouble when Robert bought concert tickets for them both for that weekend. They were slowly morphing into a ‘couple’ despite the secrecy that surrounded everything. It was the point when Guy typically made his excuses and cut things off. Yet something kept him from doing this. When Guy’s job offer came in, he convinced himself that it wasn’t a big enough deal to leave London for; getting his teeth stuck into another major project that would see him wanting to remain in his current job for at least another six months.

“What’re you all laughing about?” Guy asked, diverting into the little kitchen area whilst he was seeing someone on the floor below.

A small group of six people suddenly looked alarmed and stared at him nervously. Guy had had to accept that his seniority in the company meant he would never again be invited along to nights out with the other staff, or be included in the way he had been when he was just starting out. It was just the way these things seemed to work; those nervous eyes looking up at him whenever he ventured out of his lavish office on the top floor.

“Nothing,” shrugged one of them, who seemed to be in the middle of it all.

“Oh, come on!” Guy smiled back. “I could do with a laugh today.”

There was a sigh. “Alright,” the lady shrugged, stepping closer and holding out her cell phone so that Guy could see the screen. “It’s an article about that jumped-up little Oxford graduate upstairs,” she grumbled, referencing Robert; the nepotism of his hiring still failing to impress those lower down in the food chain; those who had to work for everything they achieved.

Guy stepped in to see as she scrolled down a celebrity-obsessed tabloid webpage that Guy had never paid much attention to. He scanned the text briefly, but it was obvious that the pictures were the main focus. There was Robert of one year earlier, looking toned and athletic as he shirtlessly strolled about on his father’s yacht. However, it was the pictures from only last night that provided the entertainment. Robert had been attending a socialite party with some friends, dressed in an unwisely tight shirt that failed to stretch with the addition of a couple of bloating beers. His pants had been a poor fit too, pinching in at his hips and accentuating new love handles that looked particularly unflattering from the angles they had taken. The double chin on Robert also came under scrutiny, with a close up shot from a low angle making it seem more developed than it actually was.

“I didn’t think fat-shaming articles like this still existed,” Guy exhaled in frustration.

“That’s the British press for you,” one of them chuckled; another American, like him. “Fucking ruthless!”

Guy scowled. He wasn’t laughing. He raced back up the stairs and tapped on the window of Robert’s office, beckoning for him to follow. Once inside, he rolled down the blinds and immediately jumped on his computer. “There’s something you need to see,” he declared to a bemused Robert. Once uploaded, he rolled his chair back and allowed Robert to step in front and see the screen for himself.

“What a bitch!” Robert laughed, recognising the name of the journalist. Everyone seemed to know everyone else in Robert’s world. “This is one of the most vicious things I’ve ever read about myself,” he smirked.

“Aren’t you pissed about it?” Guy asked, feeling exasperated at Robert’s laid back attitude. “We can send it to the legal team; see if there’s anything we can do to have it taken down.”

“And then sue them? For what exactly?” Robert asked back. “There’s nothing that’s not true in there. I really have gained about 50lbs since last year,” he pointed at the text on screen.

Guy sat back, staring at Robert’s chubby butt as the boy continued to lean down at his computer right in front of him. Having initiated a ‘hands-off’ policy at work, Guy was finding it hard to resist touching that big, bloated butt that had been captured so magnificently in the pictures. Robert was smelling great and his fresh love handles seemed to be pushing out even more than Guy had seen them before. He was turned on. For the first time in his life, he felt aroused in a way that he was unable to put into words. Despite his outrage at seeing the cruel article on Robert, he couldn’t deny the fact that it had turned him on. It was a feeling he disliked in himself and he had wanted to push it away. Sure, he had dated guys in the past who would have enjoyed the very much public disapproval of their weight gain, but how was he to know that Robert would appreciate any of that? Had dating those gainers warped Guy’s brain into finding all that public humiliation irresistibly arousing?

“At least the firm got a mention,” Robert smiled, stepping away from the screen at last. Was that a bulge he was trying to conceal? “You know what they say: all publicity is good publicity!”

Guy stood up and placed his hands on Robert’s rounder butt, pulling him into him. Fuck the self-imposed rules about not kissing in work; he was horny and so was his cute little chub. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Guy whispered seductively, safe in the knowledge that the blinds were closed.

“Even though the whole of London is laughing at me?” Robert teased back.

“Fuck everyone else!” Guy shot back. “You know I’d never ask you to diet,” he whispered alongside another kiss. “In fact, why don’t you let me take you out for dinner tonight; someplace with the lovely, greasy, high-carb junk food you can’t get enough of…”

Robert cooed with interest, allowing Guy to kiss him over and over again. “And I can eat as much as I want?” he asked, continuing the flirtation.

Guy smiled proudly and bounced the doughy glutes he was going to pound later on. “You bet!” he nodded. “You won’t hear any complaints from me!”

Guy wondered how much longer it would be until the all important conversation with Robert would happen. It had been almost five months since they’d hooked up on the business trip and, despite the secrecy around their relationship, neither of them was seeing anyone else. For Guy, it was a huge deal to have committed to sleeping with only one person in that whole time, yet it had all happened quite naturally. Sexually, it seemed that the pair of them were very compatible. Guy would swiftly move from a romantic, nurturing lover, into one with the fitness and stamina to fuck Robert all night long. In return, Robert liked to be seduced and tempted. There was a submissive side to him and he enjoyed being pampered and taken care of. Since getting together, it was obvious that his weight gain was speeding up and he’d pushed out quite the beginner-belly in that time. It was sitting, round and tempting in his shirts, making Guy appreciate how lucky he was that Robert felt so comfortable with him to just…let his appetite go like he had. The extra pounds felt like their own, quiet love language, despite the fact that it was clearly symptomatic of something much more erotic.

“Quit staring!” Guy laughed as a fat guy waddled into the restaurant behind his similarly obese wife. In the past, he’d found it embarrassing how much Robert would ogle; his fascination towards those extreme bodies getting the better of him.

“Sorry!” Robert replied, trying to refocus on his menu. Freshly shaven, his new double chin always looked so adorable when his head was in that position. Only a few minutes earlier, they’d bumped into a few friends of Robert’s ex; all of them staring disapprovingly at the little pot belly that was starting to make itself very well known.

Guy reached his giant hand under the table and stroked Robert’s knee, not quite knowing what was going through his head. “Order as much food as you like, okay?” he smiled sweetly.

Robert nodded and didn’t disappoint.

“You’re doing it again,” Guy laughed later on, as the pair of them were sitting in a bar near Soho, enjoying the buzz of the evening. “I’ll have to take you home to the US sometime. We have some of the fattest guys around, especially where I’m from, in West Virginia.”

Robert shook his head as if he was trying to restart his brain, apologising once more. “I don’t know why I do it,” he sighed. “I just…” he began, before sighing with frustration at being unable to put it into words.

“You just need to know what it feels like,” Guy finished for him.

Robert turned his head to look at Guy properly. “Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he nodded, seemingly delighted that his lover knew him so well.

Guy slipped his hand onto Robert’s little pot belly, rubbing it back and forth. “I saw the little boner you got, reading that mean article about yourself,” he teased.

Robert looked around, checking that no one else could see them. He smiled, turning back to Guy and allowing himself to be seduced; Guy’s lips getting aching close to his own. “Oh, yeah?” he whispered excitedly back.

“I’ve known for a long time,” Guy smiled, slipping his fingers under the slight overhang of belly fat and jiggling. “You want to be a real fat boy, don’t you?” His voice was almost cracking with arousal. He loved kinks in all their different forms, having experienced so many with the great variety of sexual partners he had had over the years. But this weight gain kink seemed like so much more; the physical transformation, the contrast; the confidence, combined with humiliation and submission. It ticked so many boxes for him. Best of all, Guy had had the time of his life these last few months, trying to gently tease it out of Robert. “It’s the reason why I’m taking you for more food after we leave here,” he smiled. “I know that you need to experience what it’s like to carry a much larger gut than this.”

Like putty in Guy’s hand, Robert kissed him. “I can’t believe you’re willing to put up with this,” he chuckled, lifting his arms higher so that Guy could jiggle his stomach even more. “Most people would just think I’m a freak!”

Guy smiled back. “Maybe I’m enjoying it,” he teased, grabbing a full wedge of Robert’s belly fat and just holding it still for them both to see. “Maybe I’m a freak too...”

Robert grinned with lust. “I ate so much before at the restaurant!”

“You did,” Guy smiled. He’d never particularly enjoyed waiting around as his lovers overate to satisfy these types of kinks. However, he at least understood how it all tied in with the erotic process of gaining weight; the greed, the gluttony, the deliberate bloating with calories. “...And you’re going to eat even more shortly,” he whispered back.

Robert raised his eyebrows. Was Guy really serious about that?

“You’re a gainer,” he stated frankly to Robert. “You do realise that, yeah?”

Robert looked around once more, checking that they were still unobserved. Somehow, putting a label on all this had suddenly solidified everything in both their minds.

“I’ve seen all this before. You need to keep pushing; keep overeating, again and again. Otherwise your weight will plateau and your belly will stop expanding.” He looked at his lover seriously. “And you don’t want that, do you?”

The chubby boy stared back with absolute lust. He shook his head, picked up his beer and drained the remainder of his pint. “Come on then!” he grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

The prospect of moving in with a lover was something Guy had never believed was right for him. Yet, there he was, unloading all his things into Robert’s city apartment, whilst the rest of his stuff had gone into long-term storage. It had been quite the gamble, releasing the equity in his home to further invest in the start-up AI company he had sunk a vast amount of cash into three years earlier. However, it was now or never if they were to corner the market like they needed to. Robert had agreed and been the one to suggest the cohabiting solution; his business advice being the one Guy trusted more than any other, having worked so closely for months now. As a couple, they worked well. They understood the joy they both got from their work and shared a similar mindset when it came to almost all other things. Stil, moving it had made Guy nervous, and it had taken him longer than his rational business brain normally operated in order to make a decisiona bout it. However, in return, Guy now had a majority 62% share in his own company, and had found that he could live more than happily alongside his doughy lover in North London.

With Guy around, Robert had seemed to double down on his weight goals and recommit in a way he had never allowed himself to before. Just like Guy was pouring protein shakes into himself after the gym, Robert was doing much the same with his own fattening concoctions; his kinks developing in all new ways. Within a couple of days, they had fucked in every room; Guy being unable to resist the fresh, plump broadness of Robert’s once toned and slender butt cheeks.

Now that Robert could be so open about his desires to gain weight, he actively enjoyed listening to Guy’s past experiences. Unlike most people, who didn’t want to hear about their partners’ previous lovers, Robert wanted to hear tales of Mikey and Dillon over and over again, and how Guy had sat back, excitedly watching them growing fatter and fatter.

“I don’t know what my parents are going to think about us being together,” Robert fretted, knowing that his family were soon returning for the holidays from their villa in Italy.

“Why?” Guy asked. “Because I’m the first man you’ve dated?”

“No,” Robert smirked cheekily back. “Because you’re an American!” he teased.

The pair laughed and Guy launched into tickling him for his playful rudeness. “Seriously, though. Your dad loves me. Before he stepped back from the business, we used to get on great.”

Robert nodded, but there was a worry in his eyes that didn’t abate as the big day arrived. Guy should have been aware that something was wrong the moment Robert slipped on the giant sweater that morning; the one with the huge roll-up neck. Black and loose fitting, it was clear that the man was trying to conceal the extent to which he had fattened up in the last twelve months. But in so doing, what he actually became was a dark, thick, shapeless block, with chubby thighs that strained against the smart pants he wore below.

Guy had had relatively little to do with Robert’s family since they had started dating. The pair had both had the sense that their relationship wasn’t being taken all that seriously. Robert had not long turned twenty-four and his dad had openly referred to his son’s romantic attachment as a ‘phase’ that Robert was going through. As such, Guy dressed smartly, cancelled all his plans for Christmas Day, prepared suitably expensive Christmas gifts and drove himself and Robert to the family home in Kent; a lavish country manner, handed down over generations.

Despite everything Guy had anticipated, he hadn’t been the focus of the day whatsoever. Gasps and horrified looks greeted them as Robert strolled in and removed his large winter jacket. The comments hit hard and fast. They were harsh, fatphobic and unjustified, setting Guy at odds with the family each time he called them out, unprepared to let their prejudices slide.

“I thought you guys video called every week?” Guy whispered to Robert the moment they had a second alone.

Robert seemed drained and exhausted from it all. “I may have told them my camera has been broken these last few months,” he replied.

Guy exhaled, now realising the absolute shock everyone must have felt. Despite the relatively good job the sweater was doing at masking a lot of the blubber, since September, Robert’s cheeks had been blowing up in a way that had altered the entire shape of his face. The gains had been further documented in a second critical article about his appearance back in October, however Guy suspected that such garbage hadn’t reached the family, safely tucked away in Italy, upon the shores of Lake Como.

“Mum and Dad are going to remove me from the company,” Robert fretted on the way home. “Especially now you’re leaving.”

“No they’re not!” Guy replied, trying to calm his boyfriend’s melodrama. “Even your dad can’t argue with the share price since you started running things. He’s just pissed and lashing out.”

“Dad doesn’t want ‘a fat guy’ to be in charge,” Robert grumbled next, quoting his father’s words exactly. “I was hoping today would be about them getting to know you properly, but…”

Guy sighed. The day had been disastrous. He could tell that he was going to be at odds with Robert’s family until he agreed to do what they wanted and insist that Robert dieted. They both felt flat for the remainder of the evening, making Guy wish he had cancelled his flight home to see his folks that week.

Upon his return, a very different Robert greeted him. A new personal trainer had been appointed and, together, the pair of them had cleared away anything in the cupboards that she felt was contributing to Robert’s ‘weight problems’.

“You’re not cross, are you?” Robert asked.

“Cross?” Guy echoed. “Why would I be cross?” he chuckled, hugging the man he had fallen so deeply for. “Gaining is your thing, not mine. If you want to quit, I’ll support you however I can.” In truth, he had never expected Robert’s gains to last forever. Sure, the man had caught the gainer bug, but it wasn’t quite as extreme or important to him as it had been for someone like Mikey, in Guy’s past.

Robert hugged him sweetly back, having made up his mind that a new year demanded a fresh start. He began eating better and taking Guy’s advice on nutrition; even joining him for a round or two at the gym. Robert was soon pulling out his older clothes from the back of his closet, replacing the large winter sweaters with more fitted t-shirts in time for the Spring. Yet, two cute and stubborn love handles remained at his sides; a testament to the kinky fun that he had once enjoyed so much.

Guy had never enjoyed work so much since he’d left Robert’s family firm to head up the AI company he had invested so heavily in. Now he was no longer just making money for other people, he could work hard, put the work in, and reap the rewards tenfold. There was so much potential with the technology, and he had been working closely with the British Ministry of Defence to showcase how they could use some of their adapted systems. It was exciting, that buzz of adrenaline from making things work, capitalising on successes and carving out new opportunities for an increasingly valuable and influential company.

Robert was busy with his work too. With his father and Guy out of the way, things actually became easier to manage and there was a clear leadership structure in place.

“Off out for lunch with clients again?” Guy teased him, looking over Robert’s shoulder and seeing the calendar on his cell phone screen. “Careful! You’ll be getting all chunky again!” he joked, sliding his hands over Robert’s chest and down to the small, remaining store of belly fat that refused to budge.

A bulge in Robert’s pants jumped to attention whenever Guy joked about his yo-yoing weight. Now that Robert had relaxed a little, he’d wanted Guy to start the kinky talk in the bedroom once more, telling him how fat he could be and the things he would do to his body once he was round and blubbery. This was the thing Guy liked best about dating those with kinks; it was just so easy to turn them on and have them pumped up and ready for some sexy action. There were trigger actions and words that could flip any boring situation into something exciting and arousing, all with so little effort. And, once again, Robert was nursing quite the erection.

“For my birthday next week, I want to try pouring double cream down your throat,” Guy whispered to him. “Like we used to in the old days.”

Robert moaned in pleasure at the thought, clearly replaying those kinky memories from the past.

“You’d forget about your diet for one day, wouldn’t you?” Guy asked, sliding his meaty hand over Robert’s crotch.

Robert nodded submissively. The old habits were creeping back in; the longing to feel his body holding more weight again. The instances where he was willing to forgo his strict exercise regime were increasing. Guy knew that it was only a matter of time before the gains began anew. Perhaps it would be a fun life, this continuous cycle of weight gain and loss.

Taking Robert over to visit Guy’s family had been considerably less stressful than the Christmas in Kent. Guy’s mother had long accepted that her handsome son was a law unto himself, living a whirlwind existence that she could hardly comprehend. She liked Robert, thinking him handsome and much like the typical romantic, bumbling Englishmen of the many movies she had watched over the years. Guy’s aunts had agreed, never noticing once how much Robert was overeating the entire trip.

Surrounded by tempting, tasty foods around every corner, as well as fascinating specimens of obesity in Charleston, Guy’s home city, Robert had carried a lust about him the entire week. For Guy, it reminded him why he loved dating gainers so much. As Robert gorged himself on take-out in the hotel room, Guy could hold the man’s impossibly hard shaft, playing with it as gently and delicately as he could, for fear that it could, and would, explode at any second.

“I want to be a fat boy!” a horny Robert would exclaim, right before climaxing, time and time again.

Guy would then chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. “I know you do!” he’d shoot back, his eyes dancing with delight; the greatest of all pleasures seeing his boyfriend overtaken by his own lust. In truth, it would be easy. Robert had already fucked up his metabolism last time. The pounds failed to shift like they should in a normal, athletic, mid-twenties male and they packed back on with shocking speed. But when Guy told him that, there was no stopping the sudden surge from Robert’s groin, and the complete mess that was made all over the bed as jets flew in every direction. A simple week away had spiked Robert’s weight by an incredible fifteen pounds.

“You look so fucking sexy!” Guy growled, admiring the large butt that had reappeared on his lover, filling his work pants right back up again.

Robert twisted his hips in the mirror to get a good look, smiling proudly. “I wish you were a proper feeder,” he sighed. “I know I would go so much further if I knew you were going to get off on making me gorge myself.”

Guy tried not to show how cut up he felt. He remembered how he had lost previous lovers for the exact same reason. They wanted more from him than he felt capable of giving. Sure, he loved bringing Robert to the absolute heights of lust, but he wasn’t in the habit of devising a food schedule, nor engaging in endless calorie counting; the true nuts and bolts of gaining. Guy considered how best to remedy this. No longer having an office to travel to each morning, he used the time to stock up the cupboards with all the things he knew Robert liked to feast upon when he was horny. And boy, during this most recent gainer phase, those fresh pounds certainly caused Robert to be horny! It was like a self-propelling cycle of lust, overeating and pleasure. In the time since Robert had last gained, Guy had developed a better knowledge of the kinky little pet names his lover enjoyed: Piggy, Fat Boy and Porker. He could throw them in whenever he wanted, and enjoyed messaging Robert at work to ensure he was wound up and horny by the time he got home, ready to eat.

The results were inevitable. Sexy, undiluted fat slid back onto Robert’s body with ease. His butt blew back up even more, but he was undoubtedly carrying more on his belly this time, making even his largest shirts requiring upgrades.

“Are these new trousers?” asked Robert one morning as he trotted about to get ready.

Guy, who had already returned from an hour-long session at the gym, smirked and nodded his head. “With a little extra growing room for my Fat Boy!” he whispered teasingly back. In truth, he knew that the same thing would eventually happen as last time: Robert would get put off and start his diet all over again, making himself miserable in the process. What he needed was a lover who would ease him into the changes smoothly and be there to show him how sexy his swelling body could be; similar to how a true feeder would; the ones who consumed Robert’s fantasies as he watched his body swelling up.

Now that Robert had been at his family’s firm for over two years, he didn’t worry about suddenly being replaced by his disapproving family. They needed him, as well as his sharp business brain, to keep bringing in the flow of wealth. Likewise for Guy, things had continued to go from strength to strength and there had been some decent press coverage of the technology his company was developing. They’d bought premises in North London and were expanding into the north with further development centers. The success was intoxicating, and when Guy felt happy, he certainly became hornier and hornier.

“Head back!” Guy ordered his boyfriend as he held the pot of cream aloft. He smirked, looking at how insanely hard his blubbery boyfriend got whenever Guy treated him to a feeding like this; never failing to explode at the prospect of greater amounts of deliberately fattening calories.

Down they all went, time and time again; the fat building into his waist, puffing up his arms and broadening out the glutes; each pound making Robert hungrier for more. Hitting 270lbs had been a huge thing for him, but Guy wasn’t sure the boy could make it to the full three hundred. Already, he had started to complain about how much he was sweating and a couple of his friends had dropped him from their groups. He now looked so contrasting in appearance to Guy. Whilst this was thrilling and exciting on good days; bad days, he felt self-conscious and low.

Guy had been thinking about it for some time as he set his computer up in his hotel room. Being so far away from Robert for six weeks had been challenging, but the business opportunities in California were unrivalled. Guy could see how much further ahead his own company’s technology was to any other. Of late, all they had to do when encountering issues was to question the technology itself, leading to massive creative growth, developing at a faster pace than any of them had ever anticipated. It was the whole reason why he knew it wouldn’t fail him with Robert that evening. The computer knew the objective: getting Robert as horny as possible by making him eat the most calories that it could.

The deep-fake version of Guy came on the screen. It really was remarkable seeing Guy’s own mannerisms and voice reproduced so flawlessly. “Are you ready to eat for me, Fat Boy?” it asked.

Immediately, Guy could see the naive Robert responding. He began to eat to the gentle teasing of the software. As Robert replied to it, the computer seemed to learn more and more about him, soon branching off-script and generating its own responses that it knew its target would better appreciate. In a matter of minutes, it was speaking to Robert as if it had an even more in-depth knowledge of the man’s kinks than Guy had acquired in the last three years. And just look at Robert go! He was gorging himself like an absolute pig, rubbing his fattening belly and jiggling it in a way that Guy had never witnessed him doing before. He didn’t need to track the calories that Robert was eating, the computer was scoring it all at the bottom of his screen; the number steadily increasing towards the target. “Come on, Fatso!” the software teased, prompting whenever required. “Get it all down for me!”

By the time Guy got home, he knew that Robert’s pants were going to be completely busted. There was no way the man could cope with encouragement like this every evening and not pack on a staggering amount of fat. How exciting it would be, knowing that his lover was about to be a lot softer the next time he touched him…

Looking at the data from these sessions, Guy picked up a lot of tips by the time he made it home. He reconfigured the software, generating full reports and connected up the bathroom scales into the system so that he could gather even more information. It was clear that the trial was making a huge impact, especially when it started messaging Robert at work, reminding him of the importance to eat; using the trigger words it knew to be the most effective. When Robert’s watch would feed into the system that he was feeling stressed or low, the software would generate further kinky messages and even purchase food to be delivered that it knew would spike Robert’s dopamine. But in the monitoring of what Robert ate, the computer soon learned which foods promoted Robert’s weight gain the most. Unlike many fatties, heavy carbs, like pasta, failed to have the impact that meats and cheeses appeared to generate.

With such immediate effects, Robert had rapidly surpassed his previous high weight, entering into all new, blubbery territory. For Guy, it was incomprehensibly erotic to be able to touch or grab any part of his lover’s body and have the man turned on to such a wild extent. Using buzz words or phrases from the software reports made Robert instantly hard. Wafting a sugary treat under his nose, or commenting on the disastrous fit of the man’s clothes created a sexual arousal like nothing Guy had seen before. It was as if Robert’s entire sex drive had been trained to activate upon even the gentlest jiggle of his fleshier body. In Robert’s own words, the system had been ‘the best gift’ he had ever received. Even as he surpassed 300lbs, all thoughts of dieting appeared to be completely off the table.

“That’s Rachel Rivero,” Robert pointed out a few weeks later as he and Guy attended a charity event in The City.

“So, that’s her!” Guy smirked, gazing upon the journalist who had written all the critical articles about Robert’s weight gain. The most recent piece, only last week, had been the most savage of all as she even chased up quotes from members of Robert’s family to comment on how significantly obese he had become. “She’s hardly slim herself!” Guy grunted disapprovingly at the middle aged woman sipping champagne by the large ice sculpture.

Guy bided his time, leaving Robert with some mutual friends before he slipped back to find the journalist in question. He had the instinct to try and protect his lover, wanting nothing more than this fatphobic, judgemental woman to simply back off from picking on Robert.

“My name is…” Guy began, holding out his hand the moment there was an opening to introduce himself to her.

“I know who you are,” the lady sighed back, as if she already knew everything Guy was going to say. “The answer is ‘no’. I get good numbers on my articles about your little boyfriend.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Although, maybe the real story is why such a handsome man as yourself would even go after someone who struggles so much with his weight?” She eyed his powerful body up and down. “You are quite the specimen!” she smirked, as if smelling a potential story.

“Or, maybe the headline should be about you,” Guy stated, smiling confidently. “Picking on Robert by writing mean articles about him, simply because you'd ended your secret, extra-marital affair with his father… it doesn’t exactly smack of professional integrity, does it?”

Rachel stiffened, sensing a challenger. “Darling, no one’s going to believe that!” she smirked, starting to walk away.

“They will with all the evidence I have saved on here,” Guy returned with an equally condescending smile as he lifted his cell phone. “Pictures, documents, receipts, CCTV footage,” he nodded. “It’s amazing the things you can dig up when you set your mind to it…”

The woman glared, understanding that this was no bluff. Ten minutes was all it had taken for Guy to access the software to complete a deep dive into everything about this woman. What would have taken a personal investigator five years to amass had been automatically downloaded onto Guy’s cell phone, all whilst having a glass of mineral water at the bar.

“You don’t want to start something with me,” Rachel warned, retreating nonetheless.

“I’m sure I won’t need to,” Guy threw back, smiling victoriously. “Just leave Robert alone!”

Pleased with himself, Guy walked back over to Robert, gazing upon that thick, chubby ass with pride. Ever since he’d introduced the virtual feeder tool, Robert had been piling on the blubber like never before; those soft, squishy glutes showcasing every last calorie that had been desperately consumed. Robert never would have worn pants so snug to come to an event like this before; having also chosen a shirt that stretched so unflattering across his love handles. To Guy, it seemed so thrilling; like Robert’s kinkiness was being harvested and controlled; he desired food and sex in equal measures and had become more submissive to his lust for Guy than ever before. When he held the fat boy's little dick in his hand, it was so devastatingly hard, and always pathetically easy to bring keep it teetering on the very edge of an extreme orgasm.

Guy snuck up behind him and rested his strong arm over his lover’s shoulders, turning and seeing Rachel eyeing him coldy from afar. She really had been a hateful presence these last couple of years. Although the AI software had recently seemed to find a way to make Robert enjoy the humiliating content and pictures in those articles, letting her know that she couldn’t push them around had still felt every bit as satisfying as Guy had hoped. Now they could at last live their lives in peace.

“Oh my goodness!” Guy exclaimed four weeks later, seeing the article the moment he woke up, having had it sent to him by three different people in his circle. He could feel the dread consuming him as each paragraph made for more and more damning reading. Not only was this new article providing the most extreme pictures of Robert’s over 360lb body to date, but that disgusting journalist had clearly set out to ruin Guy himself. There he was, being outed as: ‘The world’s most prolific feeder.’

For the first time in years, Guy’s first love, Mikey, was staring up from the screen at him; comparison pictures of them both from when they’d started college, alongside a recent picture of Mikey with an additional four hundred pounds filling up his body. There were quotes from people Guy had known in college, twisted to back-up the case that Guy had fed and ‘destroyed’ a promising young academic with his devious kink.

Quite a few paragraphs were devoted to Dillon too. That bastard had even provided Rachel with quotes, speaking openly about how much Guy had enjoyed his greedy appetite and lust for his expanding body. “Without him, I never would have ended up at 500lbs,” he’d stated, right before the article went on to detail, in quite devastating detail, the timeline of Robert’s own transformation; gaining weight pretty much as soon as he had met Guy and started dating him.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that Guy’s reputation was in tatters. The comments section alone was enough to show just how cleverly Rachel Riverto had twisted all those little facts to make him seem like the most evil being to have ever walked the Earth. The timing couldn’t have been more disastrous. It had been a sting operation, ensuring that the Ministry of Defence would pull out of the major deal they were about to sign with Guy’s company that very afternoon, destroying years of work that had led up to this moment. Guy felt sick to his stomach. In his whole career, he’d never experienced such a personal, calculated attack.

It was ironic; in all those years, Guy had never considered himself a feeder. He’d simply enjoyed sharing in these guys’ kinks and admired their confidence as their bodies expanded in ways that most of society disapproved of. There was no crime in that; was there?

Having built up more and more shares over the years, Guy was able to refuse the wishes of those in his company who wished for him to step down; though he had to fight hard and argue well for that privilege. With every setback came a further opportunity, Guy had decided, looking at his enormous, lardy boyfriend getting hard by reading all the comments on the new pictures of his 360lb body. With the complete shit storm that had consumed Guy’s life, it was cute how Robert seemed to care so little, and how incredibly hot he appeared to find it all instead. The Robert of old would have run a mile the second a scandal like this broke out. Now, it was all part of the erotic play that was his life.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Robert asked, feasting upon a large pizza and stroking his giant, fat-filled stomach in front of the TV, much like he did every evening.

Guy smiled, feeling, in a strange sense, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. There was no way he could have watched Robert grow like he had in the last six months and not realise that there was a serious business opportunity in all this. However, he never would have had the confidence to go for it had his name not been dragged through the mud like it had been that week. He rubbed his finger proudly across his lover’s enormous double chin. The AI had prompted Robert to keep it well shaved and it really had helped to make him look more obese than ever before.

“I may not be a feeder,” Guy began. “But I’ve somehow created the most effective motivation tool in the world,” he smiled. “And I imagine that’s not the only thing this technology could do,” he nodded, enthused by the untapped potential of what he had developed. “I believe that there are billions of people with other fun, playful kinks; just like this, too embarrassed to share it with another human being.”

Robert pulled a sceptical face, like he hadn’t even realised how much his own behaviours and physical appearance had been transformed by the technology that had been brought into his life by Guy.

Guy grabbed a giant wedge of Robert’s belly fat as he continued to make his point. “The technology was already good, but you realise you’ve packed on almost 40lbs since we introduced your brain scan data into the system six weeks ago? You wake up in the night to eat ice cream, you can’t seem to get off unless you’re stuffed! You’ve turned into this great big, fat ball of kink!” he nodded proudly. “If I market this slowly, collect more neural data…” he explained, more to himself than anyone else. “I could get better at mapping these kinks; all the different fetishes out there! Then I could provide people with the most erotic experiences of their lives; unlock desires they never even knew they had!”

“It’s still only a face on a screen,” Robert replied, seeming to cautiously accept some potential in what Guy was saying.

“Then we take it off the screen!” Guy smiled. “We put it in ear-pieces for bored husbands and wives, wanting to spice up their love lives. We use it to create bespoke AI erotic movies for folks to enjoy. We develop androids that can pleasure their targets like nothing else on the planet. By the eightieth generation of this software, the possibilities will be limitless!”

Robert stacked another two slices of pizzas and bit down on them both, nodding. “Alright,” he nodded. “It’s a pretty lucrative idea,” he agreed.

Guy smiled proudly and kissed his fattening lover, admiring the vast contrast between their bodies as they made love later that evening.

“Do you think this is going to happen to more folks then?” Robert asked as he pinched his belly fat. “Your AI systems have learned so much about my fat kinks, it’ll uncover it in more people?”

“Without a doubt!” Guy grinned back, taking hold of Robert’s fat himself and jiggling it joyfully. “Hundred of them. Thousands. Maybe even millions! Delicious, kinky little fuckers, growing their bellies out, just like you!”

“That journalist was right,” Robert smiled, feeling himself starting to climax at the touch. “I really am in way over my head!”

“You think so, Fatty?” Guy asked, having learned from the neural data how much Robert’s arousal spiked at that name.

Robert nodded, his eyes rolling back into his head. “...I really am dating the world’s most prolific feeder.”

Guy smiled, watching as Robert could hold back his orgasm no longer. He was about to bring this pleasure to everyone, across the entire world. Again and Again. After all these years, perhaps he was feeder after all…

#gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainerfic #gayfeedee #gainer stories #gainer story #gay feedee #gainerstories #gainer fiction #gainer fic

311 notes · View notes

feral-renaissance-cat · 1 day ago

Text

Some of the most engagement I got outside of posting fics for a fandom event were when I admitted I had gotten disheartened about a story I was halfway through and wasn't sure I could finish it. That's when people chose to tell me how much they enjoy my work and hoped I would come back to that fic someday. I'm still struggling to finish it years after that, not only because the fandom has mostly moved on from the pairing I write for, but also because the whole trend of putting unfinished fics into AI generators when the author doesn't post "fast enough" has me scared that people have already done that.

If you want to get more fic, you have to express to the author somehow that you want to hear it FROM THEM. There's that post about sharing things online is like if you brought a cake to a party and people took a single slice of the cake into another room and all talked about how much they love it and wish they could get more of it, meanwhile you're at the table looking at your cake with only one slice taken out of it, feeling sad because no one wants it, apparently. After that, you're not going to bring another cake to the next party because you're afraid it will go to waste again.

Plus the irony of everyone who DMs their favorite showrunners on social media hoping to get the inside scoop on an upcoming season or make suggestions. The showrunners legally aren't allowed to tell you anything, but you know who would love to share their process or hint at future stories or take your feedback into consideration? Fucking. FIC WRITERS.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

21K notes · View notes

the-tarot-witch22 · 20 hours ago

Text

How you can love yourself more? - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 10 of pentacles, Strength and the moon)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is that you guys need to embrace your true self and leave people pleasing behind, like show who you are to world, if they don't accept it or you, then they are not for you! Your guides were also being like there are things or some lessons that they needs to go on their own, we can give them strength for the same, but what lessons they take it from it, its up to them. I also heard this group might use some self pampering, or self positive affirmation this group might at times worry a lot, I also feel this whoever chose this pile is quite spiritual, or have spiritual powers but some are just not awaken yet, I also feel this group is quite strong, they have gone through numerous things, they just need to accept they are worthy of it ALSO I am hearing stop with letting people who do bare minimum, stop putting them on pedestal, again with knowing self worth, I also FEEL for few of you could have had toxic patterns, friendships or relationships, which left you broken, and what I am hearing is, they made you who you are now, so embrace that part of you, and forgive yourself. You can also love yourself by indulging in activities which gives you pleasure! LIKE yes. this group feel quite rational, the zodiac signs I am getting for this group is air signs, especially Gemini sun/moon/rising, earth signs Capricorn and Virgo. I am also getting that let loose don't control the outcome, go with the flow, live day by day. For some of you I am getting, take proper care of your skin, don't chew on lips, and pick on acne scars. This was so specific and had to write it out for you, I also feel do things which scares you no matter the outcome, just go for it~

That's all pile 1, your pile had such sweet messages and I love it for you guys, love yourself and be you!

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - 4 of wands, wheel of fortune, 9 of swords and the 7 of pentacles)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and hear is you won't be unproductive if you take your time off, and have a gap in school year, job or anything related to career, so stop with being so harsh on yourself, I also feel this pile can love themselves more by being on their own, rather than forcing themselves to be with people who aren't meant for them, or they feel they can't quite fit in, I also feel some of you from this pile have to go out of comfort zone, in order to enjoy or love themselves, by not caring what people think of you or for you. I also feel you can love yourself by gifting yourself things you like, if they are out of budget then save for it, it will bring you immense pleasure. I also feel you can love yourself by enjoying and celebrating small moments in your life, or win, you passed your grade? gift yourself something even a small treat, you got a job? you got work done? gift yourself something, not gonna lie, this group is quite materialistic lol, not ALL of you, but SOME of you! hehe, but its not a bad thing at all~ I also feel you should embrace your uniqueness, this group might have body image or self esteem issues, and it makes sense the message i got for not caring what think of you, even if you embarrass yourself remember , no one remembers, be compassionate with yourself, treat yourself the way, you treat others, with kindness, you deserve it, I also feel this group might have a hobby of reading so get back into it or continue doing it, because its a form of self love for you, I also feel, this pile works really hard, so guys? take it easy you will get rewards soon, and don't doom scroll at night take proper sleep at least 7-8 hours! Take care of yourself and keep yourself hydrated! This group zodiac signs is earth signs and fire signs especially virgo energy and sagittarus!

That's all pile 2, you guys need to beeeelieve in yourself! You got this!

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - knight of cups, page of cups, and the queen of wands)

Okay so the very first thing i sense from this group is you are emotional too emotional and sometimes you let it affect your decisions (not a bad things) but sometimes, when someone step all over you, you need to show who you are! LIKE A BAD ASS PERSON, hehe, Don't let anyone make you think otherwise and look down on you, I feel this group might have had a friend breakup perhaps? which changed you, random. anyways! Let's start, I feel you guys can love yourself more by travelling, by going on random places, even if its close to your place, it might give you a sort of joy, many of you could be here a sort of beach person, or have water signs, Scorpio, cancer, and Pisces, I also feel you need to let your creativity flow, some of you could be quite artistic here, like very creative or might have sort of nice voice? embrace that. I do feel you have it all but at time when you lose it don't let your emotions guide you, but think from rationality or logical side, it will do you good, I also feel, very random but i think or feel some of you here likes to bake?? anyhow! I feel you can love yourself by journaling, meditating, to clam yourself, by spending time with loved ones, I also feel once you start being more confident and love the way you're, accept yourself, work on your flaws it would be you entering your divine era of power, I also got the message, "that you guys are doing great in your life", even if you think you're not i see you guys thriving. You guys can love yourself by a spa session or a cool bath like do what you gotta do baby!, I also feel you should spend time with animals care for them, it will be beneficial for you!

That's all pile 3! You just need to see yourself that you're the most beautiful and amazing person <3, keep going babies~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

264 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 2 days ago

Text

MC and the seven Demon concubines Headcannons

Instead of taking a human lover, You had other tastes in men.

You're so busy trying to really your kingdom you sometimes forget how loved you are! Your lovers are happy to remind you.

Satan

Satan is your military Commander, a force to be reckoned with in battle. But you're the only one who can tame him, (or make him worse). Using your body or letting you use his body as a stress relief, He's more than happy to fuck the stress right out of you.

Even though he is a demon, you can't help but worry for him when he goes out to fight Your battles for your kingdom. He writes to you often and brings gifts from war. He tells you not to worry about him since you always do, even when he cannot see you. And when he gets home, he will make it up to you ;)

Satan frequence the training grounds where he can practice all sorts of weapons as well as the barracks where he spars and chats among his soldier and Conrad's at arms. If you ask he is more than happy to train you in combat. There is nothing cuter than you're serious face as your hand grips a sword tightly in your hand.

If you manage to beat him in combat, his eyes will stare blankly at the sky, lying on the ground. He's never been so turned on in his life. He'll take you right then and there caring little for how many soldiers in his army see. To his knowledge the soldiers are smitten with you as whis will be a great reminder that you are his.

Mammon

He was yours from the start. The arrogant demon is so confident to win and buy your attention. As the richest, wealthiest man in the world, He knows his assets, and he's proud of them. Your kindness and humbleness not only confuses him but makes him fall harder. Your personality is just as beautiful as your face and body and you are made to be spoiled.

He worships the ground you walk on and peppers every inch of your body with his lips. Despite having a kingdom You still hold so little to your name. Mammon has known Kings and queens that have the rarest riches in the realm. But you give everything you have and to your kingdom and that kind of generosity attracts him like a moth to a flame.

Mammon is not only the devil of greed but also a successful businessman and merchant. Traveling across the realm to collect more riches and do business with other kingdoms. He showers you with gifts about 10 times a week. Or at least tries most the time you politely decline his generous gifts and it takes him a lot of effort to make you accept what you deserve.

At least you accept his pleasure in bed, when he greedily tastes you with his tongue like a starving man. Fucking your body like he owns it. You already own his.

Leviathan

Your fiance in an arranged marriage. She tells you over and over again that This marriage is only to join your kingdoms in an alliance and you agreed since he offered Not only your independence from his kingdom and yours but also his unwavering support.

Leviathan is starting to regret not joining your kingdoms as you gain more concubines and more rivals to your love He wished he could have just became emperor.

Unbeknownst to you, he's loved you for a while now, But having never experienced this emotion And the fact that you are still technically a rival kingdom, His feelings for you are complicated. Leviathan's followers and devoted subjects constantly stir the pot just so they can have their beloved emperor to get more excuses to be with you more.

Another way to air out the weight in his heart is to write love letters from a "secret admirer"

Beelzebub

The wandering eldest prince to the throne of his kingdom ran away since he hated work leaving his best friend Bael his "brother" to run the kingdom for him. When he traveled to your kingdom he fell in love with not only the great food but the beautiful scenery and the nice people. Finally contacting his "brother"He struck up a deal. To become your concubine in exchange, you would help protect his kingdom.

The Sly Prince wanted this to be a business only transaction but of course he had to fall in love with you over time. When he isn't traveling to other kingdoms, He is by your side.

He travels to other lands, writing letters to you and sending you gifts And when he comes back, he talks greatly about his travels and wants you to come along on his next trip.

Beelzebub is is a bad influence on you. To him all you do is work, work, work, and he tries to coax you into spending the day with him. If you've never been out the palace before he will have a good time trying to dress you up in disguise so the two of you could frolic out of the palace walls.

Lucifer

Was once the eldest son of a powerful empire now kicked out for his arrogance and pridefulness, he is a powerful paladin night with a talented gifts of healing. He treats the sick and wounded. Now he is building his own paradise Kingdom filled with all kinds of people from all different walks of life.

He met you one one day you felt ill from a deadly disease. The people in your court begged Lucifer to help and they do anything... He didn't understand his feelings then when his heart felt lighter, and he felt as though he couldn't breathe. When his eyes gazed upon you're sleeping form he was transfixed. Something about you pulled him toward you. Something about you He must have.

For healing you He asked for your hand. He does not need your power or your people. Since he could grow that himself. It is you he wants and you he shall get.

Even though he is technically your concubine Lucifer and you see each other on equal footing. Lucifer wants you to choose him, But he is still busy growing his kingdom. So the two of you are right often. When he does visit, he acts as though he's your knight in shining armor. Kissing your hand and standing by your side as if to protect you.

Belphegor(+Beleth)

He thought becoming your concubine would be a hassle. He was only doing this for the good of his own kingdom. But that opinion quickly changed when he actually got his first taste of you. Now he's obsessed So obsessed that His "advisor"Now wants you.

If it wasn't for the fact that you're so far away and he needs to still keep an eye on his subjects and kingdom he would not hesitate to live in the cozy chamber you prepared for him when he does stay.

You're such a diligent and hard worker so passionate to better your kingdom All he wants to do is support you, (by sleeping in bed supporting you in spirit)

But you can't help but notice Beleth His advisor had been eyeing you more recently. Maybe he wants you just as bad. His advisor looks more like his knight he probably is to

Asmodeus

You're not sure how you scored an audience with The king from one of the most feared kingdoms on the map. A kingdom known for its lack of laws. With impenetrable rock walls and a thick iron gate being heavily heavily guarded. The Kingdom feels more like a prison than a home. Perhaps that's why most people end up going if they have nowhere to go.

Asmodeus had everything handed to him and he wonders why you're different. He wonders why you hesitate to fall to your knees... He's puzzled by the fact that he actually has competition to compete with.

You're not sure why he's fond of you so. He brings you mountain of gifts some you don't even want to open and many many steamy love letters. It has been a painfully long time since he wanted someone so bad before.

He's fine with being your concubine for now as long as he has in your bed he is But even then that will soon to be proved not enough as he continues to crave for more and more of you.

#what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb asmodeus #whb x reader #whb mammon #whb lucifer #whb belphegor #whb

223 notes · View notes

inhuman-obey-me · 2 days ago

Text

So. The OM news.

Solmare announced on Wednesday that December will be the "final new content" for the two mobile games. Going along with that, Lesson 60 will also be the end of story content in Nightbringer.

Definitely quite some news to take in, and one that's gotten everyone into quite a tizzy, understandably.

First, a clarification: The games are NOT going into End-of-Service (not yet, anyway). Both the OG game and Nightbringer will continue on as-is, just without any new content in general starting in January. This means that we are still going to have access to all the content we've had up to this point, like the main story, Lonely Devil, Devilgrams, Time Chronicle, etc. The announcement also stated that "past events will continue to be periodically re-released," and while it's not completely clear what those re-releases are going to look like, it sounds like the apps themselves will still be around for a while.

Secondly, this is also not the end of the Obey Me franchise. The announcement specifically says, "We promise you that this will not be the end of the seven brothers, the Devildom, or of Obey Me!" It also mentions a "new era" with "new forms of content," and Solmare themselves tried to clarify this the day after too, with assurance that new projects ARE in the works. So this is not the end of our beloved boys (and Thirteen)!!

Now, we don't actually know what this "new era" is going to look like, or what specific kinds of new projects this is referring to. We have been specifically promised new in-person events and merchandise, but of course, that's not particularly promising news for tons of us in the fandom who are not in areas that usually get those events or those who cannot afford to buy the merch, which have sometimes been hard to access for those outside of Japan.

Based on a couple of the VAs' tweets, we do know that OM is specifically moving beyond "アプリゲーム" (app game) format, which means we should not expect a third mobile game anytime soon. (And honestly, thank fuck, because we think we speak for a lot of us in saying the community's trust would just be so broken at that point!) And given their involvement, there are some ideas we can probably safely strike out. But until we get more official information, anything else on this is pretty much just speculation at this point.

But hey, on this blog, we love to speculate and theorize and make wild guesses as to what's going to happen next in OM, don't we? So let's speculate!

Firstly, any kind of print format like light novels and further manga volumes wouldn't involve the VAs, so those are probably out. But we do have the manga volumes they already released, so one possibility could be making a proper anime off of the manga version of the main story! When the gag anime originally released, many people expressed interest in seeing the main story converted into an anime, so that could be an interesting avenue for them to pursue.

Another option would be for them to go down a more audio-focused route. Though we haven't gotten much Otaku FM content in quite a long time, they've only released a couple of characters for their ASMR project so far, and hopefully they will still continue it for the rest of the characters. It's possible that they could bring back Otaku FM or Boys in the House content, especially to promote other new content in this new era. And multiple of the OM voice actors are involved with the Ex and Bee, which seems to have somewhat low numbers so far but has been said to be good (though we haven't looked into it ourselves), so it could be possible for them to try out a similar audio drama format with OM, as a more established IP.

Also, while the VAs seem to be saying that app games (mobile) are done for now, that doesn't necessarily mean we couldn't get a PC or console game. This could open up a possibility of a more traditional route-based style of otome game, which could give the writers a better position at balancing romance with the larger world adventure elements, and then just extending it with things like DLCs, fan discs, etc. Hard to say if Solmare has the budget to pull off something like that, but it would probably be more up their alley as a game studio and still give their programmers things to do assuming they haven't all been laid off with the current state of the games industry.

And then, of course, we have more things like Overture, the "concert" they put on with new 3D models of the brothers. Even if they can't afford a full-fledged console game, they could definitely still use those models in other ways, but also in more Overture-like concerts. Though personally, we would prefer if they didn't -- no one got into OM to have an idol group game. There are a million idol games and franchises already, and while it's fine as extra content on the side we guess, they're not really strong contenders against all of the actual idol games already out there. But there's money in that genre, so who knows if whatever execs may continue pushing it that direction...

And finally, another possibility, though perhaps also not a very likely one, is a theater show. It's pretty common for animes and such to also have stage productions in Japan. Luke's and Diavolo's VAs in particular have also done theater, including musical theater, so it's not a foreign concept to some of the team. But given the limited geographical scope of something like that, this wouldn't really be good for anyone outside of, like, probably only Tokyo? Still, stranger things have happened, so it's not outside the realm of possibility.

Speculation and all aside...we've been here since basically the beginning, when OG Obey Me was released back in December 2019. The end of content in the games is bittersweet, and we'll certainly be sad after NB Lesson 60 is released. Despite all of its flaws, OM is what got us both back into writing and drawing after a very long time. We started this blog! Neither of us had ever done a fandom blog before! It's been something near and dear (if even frustratingly so) to us for the past five years, so we'll be watching for what's coming next! And in the meantime, we're still here with you all too, for however slowly we put our stuff out.

#as usual we have many words.....#and just as usual we are a couple days late on this too #can't say we didn't see this coming someday but even so oof #we will have thoughts on the latest lesson coming soon too!#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omnb

188 notes · View notes

200-word-rpgs · 24 hours ago

Text

Index of Entries, Part 2 (G–Q)

Gagic The Mathering by @isaac-dressen

Game Playing Role by @that-house

General Duckery by @toy-dragon

Genre Savvy by @parasign

Godslayer by @notsomeoneyouknow

Gosh Darn Kids and their Gosh Darn Summoning Spells by @strixcattus

Got to Get Out of Here by @preponderance-of-parallelograms

Guilty Conscience by @shitting-in-the-woods

Guns N' Gumption by @chaotic-evil42168

HAUNT JOCKS by @toy-dragon

Head of A Bull by @thecoppercompendium

HEAVY METAL VAN WIZARDS by @henchmaxxing

Hellsquad by @cavetalesz

HERMES by @fagenthusiast

Heroes From A Hat. by @treefrogsoup

HEXecutive Dysfunction by @that-house

Highlighters and Hand Sanitizer by @ladytabletop

Holiday Cheer! (Which Holiday? Don't Worry) by @pomrania

Holy RPG, Batman! by @catsarehumanstoo

Holy Shit We're So Fucked by @yaintbeet

How to Eat God by @onetruemab

The Human Observatory News by @arsene-inc

HYPERSEAS by @vinfluorine

I AM THE GOD by @moth--punk

I Dream of Breaking Free by @treasondarling

I Understood the Assignment, a collaborative-yet-adversarial narrative RPG for two or three players by @dreamerinsilico

I wanna participate but I waited til the last minute! by @patient-sunshine

I'm an English Major, Not a Scientist! by @coopbella

I'M NOT LEARNING TO PLAY MAGICAL GATHERING by @txttletale

I'm too tired to write a proper RPG by @pomrania

IF IT HAD TO PERISH TWICE by @ferncube

Imp Wars by @mallowmaenad

In Which The Players Are At The Mercy Of A Big Stupid Dice Table, Or: The Confounding Circumstance. Being An Examination Of A Certain Role Playing Trope Through The Eyes And Pen Of Someone With Basically No Experience, Complete With Both Rules And Included Table, Sufficient For Any Seasoned Adventurer, Third Edition by @momoguido

Incredible Skeletal Crisis by @zincrising

Interlocked Fates - An RPG Made of Interlocking Individual 200-Word TTRPGs by @thefaewriter

AN INTIMATE INTERPLAY OF SWORDSMANSHIP ATOP A SUNLIT PEAK by @seth-a-nahk

It's NOT a salad by anonymous (posted by @fishmad122 on their behalf)

Itsy Bitsy Critters by @bossarmadimon

Joust! by @shroudofnerscylla

just taking a hike by @universalthaumaturge

KARAOKE EMERGENCY by @andaisq

Kill the Stars by @wholesalemagnesiumoxide

Killing Machines by @ribstongrowback

The Kingdom is Coming to Ruin, But This is a Story About You. by @jaiofalltrades

KOKAZO by @homarus-words

Labyrinthine Escape! by @nucleiclight

LADY FIONA'S MANSE by @itskobold

The Last Man Standing by @transparent-alias

The Last Mission of a Pilot of the 588th Night Bomber Regiment by @nochnye-vedmy

Late Night in Limbo by @crackerjackalopegames

Le Alien ne parle point françois by @detentescapement

Le Pelage Noir - A Game of Furry Detectives in a Furry Town by @ashleyrowanthewriter

Ledgermen by @whorelandoflorida

Les Femmes Damnées: Fuck! Marry! Kill! by @jessica-problems

Letters from Bath - A solo journalling game. by @evegoldenwoods

Level 1 by @sirilyan

License Plate Spells by @imperfectfinch-blog

Lies of Men's Fates by @shyce-overgod

Lift With Your Knees by @takataapui

LINE 1st Edition by @sabrinahawthorne

The Littlest RPG by @copperspont-games

LOGOFACTURA by @zwoelffarben

THE LONG ROAD HOME: A strange and dreamlike road trip game for 3+ traveling companions (inspired by Kentucky Route Zero) by @veenilla

Look At My Blorbos by @inktog

Love is In Bloom - A Solo Journal Otome RPG by @mushroomwitchgames

The Machine War, and the people by @josie-like-the-girls-name

Make Brown by @thee-rat-king

Minute to Midnight by @chaotic-error

Mires by @i-exist-for-spleen

A Miserable Little Pile of Secrets by @takataapui

My Friends Are My Power by @timorousghosty

Naive Rules to Argumentative Fantastical Play by @meticulac

New Moon of the Gods by @piratesexmachine420

No Man's Land by @just-another-madman

No One Asked for an M&M-Based RPG by @strixcattus

No Such Agency: a TTRPG with no GM by @orthernlight

Normal Human Survival Horror by @pomrania

OATH (Prototype) by @sabrinahawthorne

Offerings to a Kinder World by @renaissancewoodsman

Oh fuck by @kavka--esque

On God's Desk By End Of Days by @krawkpaladin

One of us only ... by @cavetalesz

Orphan Detective Generator by @kiyomitakada

PACT 1st Edition by @sabrinahawthorne

Paleolithic Fantasy by @cavetalesz

The Player is a Slayer of the Mindflayer! by @wizardshark

Please Teach Me the Secret Technique! by @mysticargus

Pocket Basic Rules for OSR by @gwembombyms

Poet Simulator v1.0 (open beta) by @cineresis

Practical Applications by @squidknees

Priest and Monkey Travel Left by @pomrania

Prophecy by @luminous-licid

Prototypes by @derpravener

Puddle of Ooze by @somewhereovertherainbowtables

Quaint Seaside Town Stuck In A Time Loop by @believerindaydreams

QWOP: The TTRPG (5 players recommended) by @fionn-o-nassus

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #game design #game jam #tumblr 200 word rpgs 2024 #tumblr 200 word rpgs #200 word rpgs

13K notes · View notes

quarterlifekitty · 1 day ago

Text

cw: dubcon, intox, general nasty talk, also reader is a big girl in this

Imagine being with Nikolai as a bit of a late bloomer.

He’s the first real boyfriend you’ve ever had, and he takes almost too much pride in that.

Every guy who’s ever tried to get close to you before has been a boy. Didn’t know how to handle you right. Didn’t know how to caress a sensitive doe like you. Didn’t have enough weight to pin you with. Didn’t know that sometimes when girls like you start backing away, it’s because they want to be chased.

Nik is sweet, really. Always worried about how warm you are, how comfortable you are, if you’re relaxed. He knows you’re fidgety— that you need to feel one of his weighty palms on you before you’re able to settle.

He knows his malyshka is a skittish thing. Not used to being around men. No, you were used to boys that wanted to get themselves off, while males of Nik’s variety won’t stop until you’re devoured.

Pliant. That’s how he wants you. Relaxed, hazy— not enough thoughts in that pretty head for you to start worrying when his touches get heavier. That’s why he keeps holding his drink to your lips, telling, saying “take another sip for me pchelka, yeah? There you go— good girl.”

Pchelka is a good name for you, he thinks. Little bee. He’s having you sip nectar so that you make plenty of honey for him later.

Nik usually likes to drink something that puts hair on the chest, but for you, he’ll nurse at something sweeter for a change.

He knows you’re ready when he feels the warmth of your cheeks while you slur against his skin.

Nikolai never fails to grope and squeeze at your softest parts when he has you spread and gasping under him. When you’re too drunk to redirect his hands, embarrassed by how fixated he is with your hips, stomach, and thighs. He has experience, and he learned long ago that laying with a plush girl is the closest a mortal man can ever get to laying with Venus.

He pinches at your cheeks and coos down at you, swooping to suck at your tongue and teethe gently at your lower lip.

“This is just what my girl needs, yes? Nice and spread and relaxed for me… that’s the only way I’ll manage to fit this thick cock into you, malyshka.”

He drowns your fear, your fight or flight, with liquor and syrupy words that stick in your mind better than your own thoughts.

He keeps his weight on you, just enough to keep you still without smothering. The way you quake when he bottoms out brings his smile all the way up to his eyes. His hand settles on your stomach, beneath your navel.

“You feel me in here, zoloste? This place is just for lovers. And you keep it nice and warm for me, don’t you, malyshka? Must’ve been so lonely all this time, waiting for a man— your man— to keep you settled enough to push all the way in here…”

He laughs to himself as if he’d remembered an inside joke, still caressing your skin.

“It’s a place only your husband should be, don’t you think?”

#writing #cod fanfic #nikolai cod x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai #cw dubcon #cw intox

314 notes · View notes

enigmatist17 · 23 hours ago

Text

Continuation/just ideas I have of the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon

First part can be found here :)

A03 version -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/60978709

---

No one is really sure what to think when Jazz finally returns to the general populace, the crowded common room he steps into with Prowl at his side going silent at the mech's arrival.

No, not a mech, a frame piloted by an organic Wheeljack swore to the Pit and back was smaller than most of their servos.

"Soooo, what's up?" Jazz leaned against the closest table as Prowl got himself some energon, no longer keeping up the pretense he needed such liquid.

"That's what you have to say?" Starscream gawked from his seat, the seeker looking like he wanted to start dissecting Jazz's mecha as much as pry the pilot out. "Are all organics from your planet this...this flippant?"

"Not really?" Jazz shrugged, glad no one could see the grin on his face when Prowl rejoined him, placing himself between Jazz and everyone else in the room with a minute flick of his doorwings. "Hell, you sound like one of my commanders, he'd be having a fit right about now."

"Rightfully so, I should say." Mirage commented from behind Jazz, the pilot grinning to himself when he turned, only to see what was supposedly a blank wall. "Then again, you seem to be the type of bo - organic to cause mayhem on the regular."

"Human." Jazz could hear more than a few processors whir at the strange term, and after a moment, grabs a seat at the table next to him. "Organic sounds weird to me, so you can call me human or just my name, I'm not picky."

"Human...weird." Jazz isn't sure who spoke as his visor offlined, ensuring his mecha was supported before fully breaking the connection. The entire room went silent when Jazz's chassis made a soft click before opening, noises of alarm escaping vocalizers as they expected to see a spark, wondering what in Primus' name the org - human was thinking when something moved. What should have been a spark chamber was something else entirely, the central interior some sort of piloting seat that housed the human they'd all come to trust and fight alongside, who waved as he undid a harness. Prowl was the only thing stopping the Cybertronians around Jazz from moving any closer, his doorwings up in a sharp V when he carefully placed one of his servos just below Jazz, Mirage shimmering into view on the other side of Jazz's mecha when the human hopped onto the limb.

"Hey, fellas." Prowl kept his hold on Jazz as he stepped back from the temporarily deactivated suit, setting him on the table's surface as carefully as possible. "Aw, thanks Prowler!"

"You look strange for an organic." Thundercracker tilted his helm slightly, wanting a closer look but not stupid enough to test how close he could actually get.

"I guess?" Jazz reached up to unlatch his helmet, biting back a laugh when there were a few surprised vents at the reveal of his hair. "Back home, I'd say I'm about the best we humans can look."

"With an ego to match." Mirage cycled his optics with a smirk, eyeing his friend curiously while keeping himself between any bot stupid enough to try and sneak up on Prowl's blindside. "Your frame suits you."

"And don't I know it." Jazz winked, setting his helmet on the table by his feet. "Man, you guys are just...so much bigger in person. I mean I know you are, it's just weird ta see it with my own eyes, er optics."

"Trust me, it's weird for us too." Sideswipe commented from his spot among the crowd, amused more than anything when the inevitable questions started pouring in. To his credit, Jazz tries to answer some of them, but he steps back when Prowl draws himself to his full height and silences almost everyone when he crosses his arms, smiling to himself when the bot speaks.

"If you have any further questions, you can ask them another time, most of you are late for your assigned duty shifts, Jazz included."

"Ya wound me Prowler!" The human let out a whine at the supposed betrayal, but the grin never left his face as he turned to his mecha. "I guess I could get movin', don't want to keep Brawn too late."

"Indeed." Prowl offered his servo once more, aware of the many prying optics watching as Jazz hopped onto his palm, slipping his strange helm covering back on as he was safely delivered back to his larger frame. They watched Jazz buckle himself back into the harness within the spa - piloting chamber, the chassis closing up when something connected with the back of his helm covering, the visor on the frame they were all accustomed to lighting up with a slight hum.

"Fun time's over." Jazz waved his servo, everyone murmuring to each other while they slowly dispersed. "Man that was fun."

"You find most activities fun, dangerous or otherwise." Prowl shook his helm in exasperation as Jazz laughed, the human leaning over to gently bonk his helm against Prowl's.

"I'll see you later, gorgeous." With that Jazz sweeps out of the room, Prowl watching him go with a look that made Mirage do a double take.

"You definitely chose someone...interesting." The saboteur chuckled, saving the image of a soft smile on Prowl's face for some future use.

"So I have..."

---

Jazz had wondered what Prowl's face felt like from the moment the met, in awe at how the metal creased and smoothed out much like his own skin did. Would it be cold and stiff, or warm and pliable? Ah the thought plagued him from time to time, becoming worse when he fell for said mech.

So, when he comes across Prowl asleep (no recharge) at his desk, a data pad clutched in his clawed hands, Jazz grins. Locking the door to Prowl's office, more for the tactician's peace of mind than his own, Jazz quietly grabs the only other chair in the room and sets it down on the other side of Prowl's desk, resting one arm on top of the table. Prowl is still asleep when Jazz powers down the link with his mecha, shivering at the sensation of becoming so small before slowly unbuckling himself, setting his helmet aside before starting the (admittedly) long journey across the room. Thankfully his magnetic lock boots made his journey down the arm of his faithful mecha relatively safe, staring up at his boyfriend (boybot? Ugh no, no way in hell) with an amused smile.

"Always gonna be the smallest huh?"

Now, here comes the hard part, one that could end up getting him flung across the room or smashed into paste if he triggered the wrong response from his sleeping partner. Okay, deep breath, and with a quick crossing of his fingers, Jazz activated the magnetics in his gloves before placing them on Prowl's arm as a test run. One doorwing twitched at the initial contact, but Prowl remained still, and with a deep breath Jazz started climbing, climbing up his mech's arm nice and slow. It was a little tricky when he reached Prowl's shoulder, but with a little awkward shuffling and a twist of his upper body, Jazz was within reach of his partner's face.

Now here comes the Hard Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.

It took a few tries to unwrap the base of his glove with his teeth, heart racing when he was only attached to Prowl via his shoes and magnetized knee pads in order to free his hand, but soon he was ready to do the biggest thing he's wanted to since he first laid eyes on Prowl. His hand is shaking slightly, but that doesn't matter when it makes contact with Prowl's cheek, brain short circuiting at how...soft and warm the metal was to his touch. While it didn't exactly move with his touch, Jazz could feel the nanites that were on the outer surface of every Cybertronian react, twitching when he felt a buzzing under his finger tips. He becomes used to the buzz as he takes his time mapping out the dips and curves of Prowl's face, missing the cycling of optics before a loud chirp breaks the silence, Jazz yelping as he jerked back in surprise far enough to detach from Prowl's shoulder. He doesn't fall very far when he lands on a hand (servo dude) with a grunt, Prowl looking worried as Jazz propped himself up on one arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep! Next time I need ta clip a harness on you or somethin', don't want to fall again." Jazz waved with his uncovered hand, sitting cross-legged on Prowl's palm. "Saw you asleep, an' I couldn't resist."

"Resist what?" A quick look at his chronometer showed he'd not been asleep too long, optics flickering down to his partner when he felt something strange touch one of his digits.

"This might sound kinda weird, but I've wanted ta touch your face since we met." Jazz had uncovered his second hand and was touching the closest digit, a look he couldn't classify crossing Jazz's face when he gave it a squeeze. "Weird, these are warm, but not as warm as your face."

"Did you enjoy your...examination?" Something fluttered in his spark at the smile Jazz gave him, and once again gave thanks to Primus that he'd been given a chance.

"Mhm! I'd love to again some time, see those pretty lil' optics of yours." Jazz winked, watching doorwings give a full on flutter. "Glad we both agree."

"You shall be the end of me, Jazz." Embarrassment colors Prowl's words as he sits back in his chair, watching Jazz lay back on his palm, hands underneath his head as he sighs happily.

"Your hand is pretty comfy...not a sentence I ever expected to say to my boyfriend, but it is what it is."

"I suppose you shall have to make yourself comfortable then, I still have some reports to finish." Prowl clicked, grabbing the pad he'd been reading before he fell asleep.

"Gives me an excuse to nap then." Jazz moved to remove the outer layer that supported his pedes, his processor supplying the word shoe as Jazz resumed his position with a yawn. "Have fun Prowler."

"Have a pleasant recharge, Jazz."

Jazz doesn't need to know he had already completed his work before his "nap", merely settling in for a novel he'd wanted to get through as his partner slept in his grasp.

#personal #transformers #mecha pilot jazz au #tf mecha universe #jazzprowl #jazz #prowl #mirage #absolutely adore this AU #feral Prowl barely holding back to keep his human safe

177 notes · View notes

lizzieolseniskinda · 1 day ago

Text

LOGAN HOWLETT - misunderstanding

x FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 668

GENRE: little teeny tiny angst to fluff

CONTENT WARNING: soft!logan and i hate this sm

logan’s claws slid out with a distinct metallic sound, and he let out a low growl.

“for the last time, wade, i am not in the mood!” he barked, his gruff voice echoing through the corridor. he didn’t need to turn around to know it was deadpool—he could smell the obnoxious mercenary a mile away.

wade, of course, didn’t stop. he leaned against the doorframe, his red and black suit barely containing the sheer chaos of his personality.

“oh, come on, logan! lighten up, big guy. you’re like a grumpy cat with knives for hands. and just think—if you kill me, i’ll just come back! fun for everyone!” wade quipped, twirling one of his katanas like it was a baton.

“stay the hell away from me!” logan snapped, his claws retracting as he stomped away, only to find another mutant—probably jubilee—snickering behind a corner. it had been like this all morning: relentless teasing, poking, and general nonsense.

by the time he reached the kitchen, his patience was thinner than the ice wade probably wanted him to walk on. the smell of coffee offered a brief promise of peace, but his mood was far from salvageable.

and then you walked in, all warm smiles and sleepy eyes.

before you could even greet logan, he whipped around, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“for the love of—what now? can’t you people just leave me the hell alone for five seconds?” he roared, his deep voice booming in the small space.

the words cut through the air like his claws, and your face immediately fell. you hadn’t done anything—hadn’t even been awake for the chaos that morning—but his tone hit like a slap.

you nodded and turned on your heel and hurried out of the room. you weren’t angry or sad, just very confused.

his chest heaved as the words lingered, their weight settling uncomfortably in his gut. logan hadn’t even processed who he was yelling at until you were gone.

“ah, damn,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand down his face.

wade popped his head into the kitchen, holding a finger up like a mockingly dramatic teacher.

“first rule of relationships, wolvermean: don’t yell at the cute one,” he said with a sing-song tone.

“get out before i break your neck,” logan grunted.

without another word, he stalked down the hallway, following the faint sound of your retreating footsteps. logan found you in your room, curled up on the bed with your back to the door. he knocked softly, the sound a stark contrast to the yelling from earlier.

“darlin’,” he called, his tone significantly softer than before.

you didn’t answer, and his chest tightened.

“look, i… i didn’t mean to yell at you. i thought you were one of those idiots tryin’ to mess with me again.” he leaned against the doorframe, his voice low and gruff. “i’m sorry.”

still, no answer.

logan sighed, stepping into the room. he sat carefully on the edge of the bed, not wanting to push you further away.

“i’ve just been… on edge this mornin’, but that ain’t an excuse.” his hand hovered over your shoulder, hesitant. “please look at me?”

you finally turned, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. the sight nearly broke him.

“you scared me,” you admitted quietly, and logan felt his heart twist.

“i know, sweetheart. i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll make it up to you, i swear. just… don’t stay mad at me too long, alright? i can’t take it.”

you bit your lip, the sincerity in his expression making it hard to stay upset. “you’re lucky i like you.”

a small smirk tugged at his lips. “i am. i know it.”

he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if to physically shield you from any further hurt—even if it came from him.

“next time, yell at wade,” you murmured against his chest.

logan chuckled softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “i will.”

“that’s a promise.”

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #girl writer #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman fluff #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine xmen #logan howlett #wolverine x deadpool #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine imagine #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x you #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett angst #logan x reader #logan howlett x you

275 notes · View notes

hhughes · 23 hours ago

Text

♡ 𝆬 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

𝓹airing , jack hughes x bsf!reader

fourth of july is usually one of jack’s favourite holidays , but this year he can’t help but wish he was anywhere but their annual lake house party . . . (wc ; 4.1K)

꒰ 𝓷ote , not a big fan of the ending but this has been stuck in the drafts for a while so it needs to go <33 . . . ꒱

there were many times over the years that Jack has known Trevor where he’s been grateful to have him as a friend. that one time where Luke got stranded with a flat tire and Trevor went to help his little brother out when Jack couldn’t. or another time when Jack accidentally ran over someone’s mailbox but Trevor took the fall for it because he knew Jack’s parents would be way madder than his own. people could say what they wanted about Trevor. that he was too cocky, too loud, just too much to handle in general, but he’s also a great friend, a loyal friend, his best friend. which is why the sight before jack’s eyes baffled him so much.

they were having their annual July 4th party at the lake house. the deck outside by the lake was filled with people waiting for the fireworks show to start, some faces he recognized but most he didn’t. normally he wouldn’t mind the amount of strangers in his house, knowing most of them were friends of friends of friends of his own friends but right now he just found the crowd annoying as he tried to keep his eyes on you and trevor on the makeshift dance floor. a small part of him was amused by the horrendous way trevor was moving his feet, but most of his attention was drawn to trevor’s hand on your back. a hand that kept wandering a little lower and lower each song. a hand that jack has imagined slashing off a hundred different ways in the span of the last ten minutes alone.

you and jack have been friends since high school. jack hadn’t really admitted it to himself all these years but he’s always had a little thing for you. maybe it should’ve been obvious by the butterflies swarming his stomach every time you pay him a slither of attention. or the way he’s always going out of his way to do things that will get your attention. perhaps deep down jack was aware of the feelings he had for you, but there’s always been something holding him back. the fact that you two lived in different states, or the new boyfriend that appears every few months once you realise the old one wasn’t good enough for you. or the fact that you’ve never shown even a little interest in jack past a platonic friendship and jack was scared or ruining that and losing you in the process.

jack’s never been this bothered by a guy flirting with you before. perhaps because deep down he knew it wasn’t gonna last. but the sight of his best friend twirling you around while whispering things in your ear that makes you laugh, more than jack’s seen you laugh in a while, leaves his stomach in knots. jack’s sure if he untangled those knots he would discover long ropes of fear. fear that trevor’s flirtations were out of genuine interest and not just drunken friendliness. fear that the way you snuggled into trevor was out of affection and not just the fact that alcohol makes you drowsy.

“might wanna loosen your grip on that glass Jacky. drunk lucy that’s passed out on our couch already broke two and we’re gonna run out soon at this rate,” quinn jokes, lips forming a tight line when he follows jack’s line of sight and sees trevor tugging you off the dance floor and gently pushes you onto a deck chair.

jack drags his eyes away from you to glance at his drink, loosens his grip and looks at his older brother. he momentarily forgets about the sight he saw moments earlier that made him so upset, overwhelmed by the fact that him and quinn were at the same place. it always takes jack a few weeks to adjust from seeing quinn once every few months to seeing him daily. and just when he gets used to it, they have to go their separate ways again.

“it’s not like we can’t afford it,” jack teases, and a commotion on the other side of the deck catches jack’s attention and he turns his head in time to see his younger brother miss a step on the deck and land on his ass.

“you gonna go fix that?” jack asks quinn, trying to keep the laughter out of his tone as luke tries and fails to get up a few time. having obviously had one too many.

“nah, I'll let him learn the hard way,” quinn replies but jack knows he’ll go check on their little brother in the next ten minutes. quinn was a bit of a mother hen and he was just gonna punish himself by not checking up on luke.

“you gonna go fix that?” quinn asks in return, gesturing to where trevor was tucking strands of hair behind your ears.

“nothing to fix,” jack says, downing the rest of his drink.

“I’ve got a prefect execution plan for zegras. it’s all planned out already. I just need a reason,” quinn says and jack can’t help but let out a soft cackle at the serious expression on his brother’s face. anyone who didn’t know quinn well enough would think he was dead serious.

“do you?” jack asks softly, just to be sure.

“no. but I can come up with one if you need me to,” quinn responds, knocking his shoulder into jack’s gently and jack sends him a grateful smile in return. I can if you need me to. if that didn’t sum up his brother perfectly, jack didn’t know what could. Jack’s always been jealous of quinn’s selflessness. He crushes his red solo cup, along with the guilt building up in his chest that he was sitting here brooding instead of spending quality time with his family like he should be

“Nah, I don’t have plans to kill my best friend any time soon. But if I do in the future I’ll make sure to call you,” jack says and quinn sends him a smile

“Even when he’s flirting with the girl you’ve been in love with for ages?” quinn asks, finishing the last of his own drink

“I’m not in love with her,” jack argues weakly, the words sounding false even to his own ears.

“are you making it a habit to lie to me lately? first about the orange juice this morning and now about-“

“I told you it wasn’t me who drank the last orange juice. I swear to God. I’m telling you, it was luke!” jack stresses and quinn lets an amused chuckle slip past his lips. thoroughly amused that his little brother was getting this worked up about it.

“okay okay,” quinn defends when his brother continues to glare at him but his laughter fades when jack suddenly stands up from the deck chair

“where you going?” quinn asks

“anywhere but here. I can’t stand to watch any more of that happen tonight,” jack mumbles, referring to you and trevor giggling a few metres away

“you can’t just leave. this is your house and your party. you’re a host,” quinn argues

“so are you. and it’s not like you’re going anywhere so…” jack shrugs

“what if I had plans to slip away too?” quinn asks

“with a lady friend?” jack inquires, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly and quinn sends him a deadpan look

“no. to my bed. by myself. I’m exhausted,” quinn admits and jack lets out a booming laugh

“you old fuck, it’s not even 1 A.M yet,” jack teases and quinn just shakes his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

jack squeezes his older brother’s arm as he passes and makes his way through the crowded deck, pushing past people and mumbling a few apologies.

the sight of you and trevor together put him in a sour mood that even joking around with quinn couldn’t get him out of so he avoided all the people that were trying to rope him into their conversations as he passes. he lets out a sigh of relief once he made it through the back door and into the house, taking his time to cool off and get his mix of emotions together.

plopping down on the couch, his thoughts immediately go back to the sight he saw of you and trevor together not even ten minutes ago. jack silently cursed at himself, realising that not being able to see what the two of you were doing was almost worse than having to see it. because now jack didn’t know if it was escalating or not. if trevor’s hand has moved from your waist to your lower back, or maybe even lower. if his little whispers in your ear have transformed to words mumbled against your neck.

jack found it hard to swallow past the ball of bitter emotions lodged in his throat. it just wasn't fair. if anyone should’ve been flirting with you, it should’ve been him. if anyone should’ve had their hands all over you, it should’ve been his. because quinn’s right, jack has been absolutely in love with you since highschool and he’s tried to keep those emotions at bay, one obstacle or another always standing in his way, preventing him from making a move. and the one summer you were finally free, trevor swoops in before jack even has a chance to try and do something.

jack ran a hand over his face, desperately trying to get the image of trevor making you laugh out of his head but it continued to taunt him instead. he was sure it would be embedded into his mind for the next few nights as he tried to get some rest. he was so deep in thought he didn’t even notice the shuffling of feet in the hallway.

one moment he was consumed by his thoughts and next thing he knows you were standing in front of him, calling his name softly. your hair was messy, strands falling down your face and your cheeks flushed, no doubt due to the alcohol. or trevor’s sweet nothings whispered in your ear jack things bitterly.

“hey” he mumbles quietly, fiddling with the empty solo cup in his hand and trying desperately not to let the bitter emotions bubbling in his chest show on his face.

“you’re hiding in your own house now?” you asked and there was a slight teasing tone to your voice as you took a few steps closer to the couch, but not sitting down.

jack forced himself to look up at you, biting his lip and taking note of the way the fabric of your dress hugged your body.

“wasn’t hiding. just — not in a mood for a party I guess” he replies and he silently curses himself when he hears the slight edge in his tone. his annoyance from earlier hadn’t faded, even when you were standing directly in front of him, looking beautiful and so unaware of how you made him feel. and jack was never good at hiding how he was feeling, except when it came to his feelings for you apparently. but he was sure his jealousy and annoyance was all over his face. an open book for you to read, examine and judge.

it took everything in him not to reach out and touch you, brush back a strand of hair that was clinging to your forehead. to do something to keep your attention solely on him and not leave to wander back to the party. to trevor.

but he kept his hands firmly placed on the couch. trying to maintain the little bit of self-preservation he had.

“yeah I noticed” you say, a slight frown pulling at the corners of your mouth. jack always loved the fourth of july party. it was one of his favourite summer events.

“surprised you did honestly. trevor’s been keeping you occupied” jack mumbles, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them.

you don’t say anything for a second, letting his words settle, trying to figure out what they mean. what you want them to mean.

“yeah he’s had way too much to drink. you know how he is. talks your ear off on a regular day but once he’s got a few drinks in him, the guy just won’t shut up” you shrug with a little laugh, hoping to lighten the mood a bit as you take a seat next to him.

a small smile tugs at the corner of jack's mouth. trevor’s ability to never shut up is one of the things people don’t like about him, but it’s always been one of the things that jack’s found particularly endearing about his friend.

"yeah, I suppose it is part of his charm. well, at least to some people" he says with a wry smile. despite the envious feelings bubbling in his stomach, he couldn’t deny that you and trevor would be good together. trevor was genuinely a good guy, he might look unserious most of the time, but jack’s seen first hand how his best friend can flip and become dead serious about the things he wanted to commit to. hockey being one of them.

“you guys would look good together” he says, having a hard time forcing the words out past the lump in his throat. he wasn’t used to feeling like this. and he wasn’t even sure what this was. jealousy? envy? insecurity? all of the above?

“me and trevor?” you ask, voice tinged with amusement

jack can feel his stomach twisting into knots as you ask the question. he tries to keep his expression neutral, but he knows he's failing miserably. he can feel his heart racing in his chest as he nods in response.

"yeah... I mean, you two seem to get along really well" he says, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he's aware of how pathetic he sounds. he feels like a jealous boyfriend, even though he's not even your boyfriend. he wants to tell you that he doesn't want you to date trevor. that he doesn't want you dating anyone. that he wants you all to himself. but he keeps his mouth shut, knowing that it's not his place to make demands like that

“well yeah but that’s because I only see him two to three months of the year. I think if I saw him any more than that I would smother him while he slept” you say, laughing softly at the idea

“you’re the second person threatening to kill him tonight” jack says dryly

“really? I bet you there’s gonna be a third” you say and he laughs softly. your heart speeds up at the sight of his grin, and you reach out to trace the laughing lines on his cheek.

“there he is. was wondering where my happy guy went” you say softly, cheeks heating up when you realize how close the two of you have gotten, your hand still cupping his cheek.

“what’s wrong jack? tell me, maybe I can fix it for you” you ask pouting slightly, and jack leans into your hand, soaking up the warmth

“nothing” he reassures softly but you know that’s a lie

“you lying to me now hughes? first about the orange juice this morning—“

“jesus not you too! i’m telling you it was luke!” he insists and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you at his serious face, that only transforms to a slight pout when he realizes you’re laughing at him.

“whatever” he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and you smile at the sight, leaning a bit closer and putting both hands on his arms

“but seriously what’s wrong? do you miss hockey already?” you ask, knowing jack felt a little restless without the routine hockey provides him with the other three seasons of the year.

“no. not yet at least. i’m perfectly happy having some time off and just spending it at the lake house with you and my brothers” jack says and your heart swells when you see the genuinity behind his words.

“me too. besides this might be the last summer we have like this. since I graduated from university, i’m about to get a big girl job and will probably be working during summers starting next year” you pout and jack immediately frowns, not having considered what your time coming to an end at UMICH meant until now.

“don’t say that” he whines resting his head against your shoulder, and you laugh softly, running your hands through his messy hair.

“I know,” you pout slightly, the reality setting in for you too that you and jack probably won’t see each other as often anymore once this summer is over.

“you uh— gonna stay in Michigan?” he asks, fidgeting with his bracelets

“not sure yet to be honest. I like the idea of staying close to home but I also like the idea of going somewhere new,” you say and jack has a moment of panic, not knowing what he’ll do if you decide to move out of Michigan. He’ll barely see you then.

“maybe I’ll move to the west coast. see how I like that,” you think out loud and jack immediately pulls away from you, your words enough to make him stand up and pace around anxiously.

“the west coast? you can’t move to the west coast!” he insists

you look at him surprised by his reaction. you hadn't expected him to be this upset by the idea of you leaving Michigan.

"but why not?" you ask, wondering why he's so adamantly against the idea

jack continues to pace, running a hand through his hair anxiously

"there's a lot of reasons why not! it's so far. we wouldn't get to see each other. and what about hockey? the devils play in the eastern conference!"

you can't help but smile at his reaction, secretly loving how worked up he's getting over the small topic.

"it's not that far, and we could still keep in touch. we can call or facetime each other whenever we want to" you try to reason, but jack doesn't seem convinced, still looking rather distressed about the idea of you moving away

“face time?” he spits the words, as if just the existence of them utterly disgust him

jack freezes in his pacing, turning to look at you with a deadpan expression

"yeah, facetime. you know the little app on your phone that allows you to call someone and see them at the same time" you say mockingly

his face transforms from one of frustration to one of annoyance, his eyes narrowing

"very funny,” he responds sarcastically. he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. this night has gone from extremely bad to excruciating.

he never thought he was the dramatic type, but the idea of you leaving for the west coast was enough to send him into a panic. you being so far away from him would drive him completely crazy. he couldn't stand the idea of only being able to see you once or twice a year. not to mention that you’d be closer to trevor than you would be to him.

“absolutely not. you’re not a west coast girl. you belong here” he says, you belong with me, is what he means.

“I was considering Carolina too” you say casually, laughing at jack’s mocking groan

“now you’re just trying to piss me off” he says, plopping down on the couch next to you again.

the two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, both contemplating what your lives are gonna look like a year from now.

“you should move to jersey” he blurts out, and the two of you simultaneously turn your heads, eyes connecting in a long stare.

“what would I do in Jersey?” you ask, biting your lip before the words ‘except you’ can slip out

he shrugs, just looking at you for a moment before letting out a big breath and turning towards you completely, taking one of your hands in his.

“it could be summer all the time” he states simply, as if you should know exactly what that means.

you look at him dumbfounded for a moment before saying, “have you seen east coast winters?”

“I mean metaphorically,” he explains. “you’re summer” he shrugs, hand reaching up to cup your face gently.

“I don’t like summer because of the weather, or even the fact that it’s off season. I like summer because I get to come here and I get to see you. For at least two months straight I get to wake up every day and know I will see you that day. And that’s the best feeling”

“jack—“ you say softly, a bit choked up and he smiles, bringing his other hand up to cup your other cheek, both hands now holding your face gently as he stares into your eyes.

“I’m already mad at myself for letting us be friends this long without admitting my feelings to you. I’ll never forgive myself if I let you move to the west coast, or Carolina, or anywhere that's not right here next to me" he adds softly.

you can see the vulnerability behind his eyes as he stares at you, thumbs stroking your cheeks slowly.

he can feel his heart racing in his chest, his stomach twisting into knots as he waits for your response.

he looks at you, studying your face and seeing your expression change slightly at his words

"it's not that I'm trying to pressure you into anything, I mean if you don't feel the same way I get it. and I'll support you no matter what you choose to do" he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he can stop them. he can feel the anxiety building in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you rejecting him and moving away anyway making him nauseous.

“y-you have feelings for me?” you ask, still trying to come to terms with that part of his confession.

jack looks at you, slightly surprised that you didn't already know that. did you really not realise how he felt about you?

"yeah, you didn’t realize?" he responds, a small hint of disbelief in his voice

“no. I’m not really your usual type, if you haven’t noticed” you say softly, and jack loops his arms around your waist pulling you closer. not liking the way you said that. his face twists in a look of annoyance and he suddenly looks slightly insulted

"and what is my usual type then?" he asks, his voice coming out a bit harsher than he intended

“c'mon jack. every girl you’ve ever dated has been the exact opposite of me” you say

“it’s not like the guys you’ve dated have been anything like me either” jack argues softly and you shrug. fair enough.

“that’s why you were upset earlier? you thought trevor was flirting with me and you were jealous,” you say putting the pieces together and jack’s cheeks redden slightly as you catch on to what was happening.

“yeah. I wasn’t happy. I’ve been waiting two years if not longer for you to be single and the one summer you finally are, my best friend beats me to it,” jack mutters, hands tightening on your hips slightly, pulling you even closer so now you’re practically straddling his lap.

“you should’ve said something earlier,” you say, resting your forehead against his, hand running through the hair on the back of his neck.

he groans softly at your touch, the feeling of your hand running through his hair making his body tingle. he can’t stop the shiver that runs down his spine as you run your fingers through his hair, and he tilts his head back just slightly to give you more access.

“it was just never the right time. but I realized tonight that the right time is never gonna come and if I wait too long, I might lose out on having any opportunity at all” he mumbles, tracing your bottom lip softly

“then stop waiting, and kiss me already” you order, and jack doesn’t spare a second as he crashes his lips onto yours, not disconnecting them until the two of you absolutely need to breathe.

it’s all so much. your lips, your hands, the taste of you, the scent of you, your body pressed so close to his. he’s never felt this way before, wanting something so much. needing it. needing you.

he’s spent so long wanting this, imagining what it would be like to have you here in his lap, kissing him and letting him touch you, that it’s almost overwhelming.

“looks like we’re gonna have summer all the time now jacky” you mumble against his lips and he grins, utterly thrilled by the idea.

#꒰ 🗄️ ꒱ — 𝓗hughes #꒰ 📂 ꒱ — 𝓗hughes > fics #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fanfiction

167 notes · View notes