#deodorant tank

[rogue-hammer]

Tzeentch Rogue Trader project. Including my first attempt at a Deodorant Tank

[seph-writes]

god i wish more cis people could embrace gender in a nuanced way for themselves. like no, the options are not Boy or Girl. you can be a woman and prefer cologne to perfume, have short hair, hate dresses or whatever. and you can be a guy and have long hair and whatever else i just said. i’m holding your hand. we’re all playing legos with words and identities and it means nothing if you don’t give it meaning.

there are so many ways to be who you are and it will be a beautiful, conflicting, and nuanced collage.

[xx-obliviousfantasy-xx]

NEW INSECURITY ALERT:

My mom said the discoloration on my under-arms was super extreme so she's going to hand me a cream to make it less extreme .-.

I thought they were normal...

[rangerbarbz]

Please

Author’s Note: Man, I am a busy bee. I apologize for how little I’ve been writing. I never catch a break, but I am so thankful for y’all. I hope the summer is treating you well!!!

“Please”

Summary: Ford lets out his frustrations on reader after a continuously failing experiment

You laid flat on you and Ford’s shared bed, stomach against the quilt that covered the mattress. Ford was downstairs finishing up an experiment while you were reading a chapter in your new book. The rest of the Pines family were on a daycation out of town leaving you and Ford by yourselves. It was nice to have this private time to spend with him. 

You flipped to the next page and shifted the weight of your head onto your other hand. It was no telling when Ford would emerge from the basement to join you. He had been down there for an hour now. At least you thought he had; you were pretty engrossed in this novel so who knows? You had changed into a tank top and shorts to make sure when he did get done with whatever he was working on, you’d be ready to fall asleep in his arms. Or so you thought. 

You heard Ford’s boots stomping down the hallway, your head perking up at the sound. You closed the book and placed it on the bed before standing up to approach the doorway. 

“Ford?” you called. Just as soon as you reached the door frame, he was there. His silver hair was tousled and his eyes looked more weary than usual. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. He was wearing stained jeans and a taut, black t-shirt and smelled of his musky deodorant with a hint of moss. 

“Honey, are you okay?” you asked gently, letting him bury his face in your neck. His body was hunched over to make sure he was holding as much of you as possible. You rubbed your hands up and down his back soothingly as he started kissing your jawline.

Ford’s eyes met yours; they didn’t look tired anymore. They were fiery.

“I’m fine. It…It was just a hard day,” he explained quietly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You placed your hand on his cheek, letting him lean into the palm of your hand. 

“No, sweetheart. Not now.” He began kissing your wrist. “I just want you, please.” His words were mumbled against your skin. You felt your face get hot as he continued kissing down your arm, his eyes blissfully closed. 

You cupped his face to make him meet your gaze. “Take me then,” you whispered. Ford groaned in appreciation, his strong hands covering the sides of your face. He was kissing you with such a force that was uncharacteristic for him. His tongue flicked your lower lip, begging for a taste of yours. You let him deepen the kiss by opening your mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was frantic trying to touch every inch of you. 

Ford suddenly broke the kiss. “I’m sorry. I forgot I had these damn boots on. Let me take them off before we get too far.” You nodded, unable to form actual words. He then bent down to start unlacing his shoes. However, his mouth was focused on something else. He began planting kisses from your knee, lips inching up your thigh. You let out a soft gasp; your fingers carding through his hair. His stubble was teasing the satin skin that was close to where you wanted him most. 

He suddenly stood up to place his lips on yours again. They never left even as he flung his boots and socks off making you giggle. You felt him smile against you. One arm then supported your back while the other snaked around your waist. You were gently laid on the bed as Ford kissed you passionately. 

He then lifted himself up, centimeters away from your face to look at you. His eyes were locked onto yours. After what felt like hours under his gaze, he leaned down to your ear. “I love kissing you,” he said in a low voice. He dragged your earlobe through his teeth, and your body shivered at the contact. His lips continued their journey down your neck, small moans escaping your mouth. Your legs had wrapped themselves around his torso.

He grunted against your chest, pulling down your tank top to expose your nipples to the cold air. His eyes darted hungrily across your breasts before tracing your areolas with his hot tongue. A sharp contrast to the temperature of the room. You cried out, once again holding his head in your hands. His right hand crept upwards to your other breast as he sucked your nipple into his mouth. 

“Ford, please,” you breathed, grinding against him to gain some sort of friction against your throbbing core. He was incredibly hard and straining against the zipper of his blue jeans. He groaned and bit your nipple to tease you back. You yelped a bit, face growing red from the sound you made. Ford didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he didn’t mind. His hands grazed your waist down to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your soft flesh. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about this.” Ford pulled down your silky shorts to expose your dripping cunt to him. He tossed the article of clothing to the floor, his attention never leaving you. His hands drifted up the sides of your thighs, pressing them around his head. He blew cold air against your sensitive clit; his eyes locked onto yours to see your reaction. You yelped and threw your head back which made Ford chuckle. 

“You’re so sexy like this,” he grumbled against your inner thigh. He peppered kisses up your leg. The tip of his tongue teased your opening slowly.

You gasped. “F-Fuck.” 

Ford’s lips wrapped around your clit and swirled his tongue gently. He lifted your right leg, putting it over his shoulder to give him better access. His once calculated licking began to turn sloppy as he dove into you. He slipped his big hands underneath you to cup your ass and pull your cunt closer to his mouth. He moaned into you while your hips grinded against his face. 

Just when you thought you were going to burst, his tongue slipped out of you. He gave your swollen labia a kiss. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I want to feel you around my fingers,” Ford admitted. He adored fingering you. You were almost positive it had something to do with the fact he had been made fun of his entire life for his hands. The hands he was once so insecure about were now able to evoke such pleasure from you. It made him feel powerful. 

His thumb grazed your throbbing clit as he slid one finger into you. His breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of your warm, wet entrance. You cried out how he filled you up so easily. Your nails dug into his shoulders; his finger began to pump in and out of you. 

Ford’s cheeks were tinged pink. He became so flustered seeing you write underneath him. “Oh, God,” he whimpered. “You feel so good…So beautiful.” He began to pump faster to hear more of your sweet moans. 

“Ford,” you breathed out. “Please, I’m so close.” He moved his other hand to your upper back, carefully lifting you up. 

“I know, baby. I know. I got you. Just let go, honey. Let me feel you,” Ford cooed. Your body did exactly what he said. You felt shivers run over your entire body; your cunt pulsating around his fingers. He hugged you against him, still fingering you but slowly now. Your head fell into the crook of his neck. You were breathing heavily, riding out your orgasm. 

“There you go. Atta girl.” He kissed your temple. “Do you think you got one more in you, honey?” You leaned back and looked at him, a grin on your face and a glazed over look in your eyes. 

“You betcha, Dr. Pines.” He smiled devilishly at you before standing up to swiftly remove his shirt. His pants and boxers were soon to go. You bit your lip as you watched him undress. He had such broad shoulders, toned muscles, and a painfully erect cock. 

You rolled over, showing your ass off to him. You looked back at him to see his mouth slightly agape, admiring your curves. To him, you were the most entrancing thing he’d seen in all his years. He kneeled on the bed behind you, running his hands over your smooth back. 

He caressed your ass before parting your flesh to expose your cunt once again. He breathed deeply, his cock teasing your entrance. He let your slick coat his tip before sliding into you completely.

Ford groaned, his head tipping back and eyelids fluttering. You whined at how he stretched you out. It hurt so good. He moved his hips slowly at first, letting you get accustomed to him. 

“H-how does it feel, sweetheart?” he asked shakily. 

“Harder, Ford. Fuck, I want to feel more of you,” you replied quietly. Ford sighed and laid his body against your back. 

“Don’t say things like that if you want me to last, Y/N,” Ford growled into your ear. His thrusts became sporadic, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. His hands reached around to hold onto your breasts. You could feel the build up of another orgasm already. 

“Ford.” Your voice had squeaked from the intensity of his thrusts. Everything felt so good it was overwhelming. 

“Where do you want me?” 

“Inside.” Ford let out a guttural noise at that. You then began to feel his dick twitch and that familiar warmness spread inside you. One of his fingers sneakily moved down to your clit, applying just enough pressure to bring you to climax. You screamed his name and pulsated around him. Your body collapsed onto the bed. He rested beside you. He held you flush against his chest; your breaths became synced together. 

“Let me clean you up, hon,” Ford whispered. He stood up and walked to the bathroom to retrieve a warm washcloth. “Roll over, sweetie.” You lazily flipped over with a grunt.

Ford giggled. “You’re so cute.” He started to clean up the evidence he had been there  from your inner thighs and folds. You gazed up at him lovingly. “There we go,” he said. “Good as new.” He placed the washcloth on the other side of him. 

He was smiling ear to ear down at you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’m going to run us a bath.” He kissed you again. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” And you meant it with every cell in your body. 

[occamstfs]

Keep On Trucking

Jonah thought he'd hate the rental truck he got when he flew back home. But after throwing on a hat he found in the cabin it seems like he's liking the thing more with every passing mile.

Thought we could do with some more sentimental southerner TFs so here we are ! Happy surprise that it coincides with a certain Texan AOTY ;) Sweaty, strong, and sweet, hope you enjoy Jonah's journey to a new home in the country! -Occam

It must be some form of cosmic comedy that Jonah’s only rental option was this wretched gas-guzzling juggernaut. Sitting a good fair few feet above every other car on the road, the truck that’s been foisted onto him simply demands attention. There’s a tight-lipped grimace on his face as the laundry list of insults he’s hurled at people who drive these fragile masculinity-mobiles over the years rush through his mind.

He’d never say them to a driver of course, both from a general fear of confrontation and a healthy fear of large loud men. His insults thrown never escape the glass panes of his Elantra. Nothing more than playful jibes to help work through the fear of sharing the road with drivers who could literally roll over him, and oft seem to want to. Just barking self-soothingly, like a chihuahua at a caged great dane.

His self-consciousness at plowing down the highway is interrupted however as a small car quite similar to the one he drives back at home veers towards him. Thankfully the road is not too crowded as he swerves to avoid the red speed-demon who flips him off before shooting ahead, surging into the distance to escape the sound of Jonah’s horn blaring. 

The nervous young man clutches at his shirt as he feels his pulse in his head. Eventually he sees the red pinpricks of brake lights disappear and his hands stop shaking from the near-collision. Sighing, he tries to steady his breathing and hopes the rest of his nerves will follow suit. Only then does the strangest thought occur to him ‘Thank god I was driving a truck.’

Jonah rubs his smooth jaw and grumbles to himself, “I guess there are some upsides to driving a freakin’ tank, ugh.” As he puts it to words he can’t help but continue thinking on the matter, besides maniacs like that little punk, people are probably way more likely to respect me on the road driving this thing. He wistfully stares at the road ahead lost in thought, though before taking the leap further to the lofty thoughts that people are more likely to respect his masculinity and authority in this beast, he shakes it off and clears his throat.

“Ugh I need a coffee or something.” Squirming in the seat slightly, only then does he notice the continued discomfort from his brush with danger; He’s sweating up a storm. Cranking up the AC as high as it goes he wipes his brow and tries to push sweaty hair out from his face. When a heavy drop falls into his eyes causing him to shout a hearty “fuck!” He pulls over to the side of the road and searches for a headband or something to solve this issue, “God why’s it so hot in here!”

Looking down at his now clearly sweat-stained shirt he groans, no way is he going to show up to his hometown friend’s party looking like such a slob. He briefly considers using the sweaty top to hold back his hair but thinks better of it, giving it a sniff he finds his deodorant has not been nearly as effective as it usually is. Frowning and going straight to the source he smells his pit and immediately cringes away, “Man what is up with me today? It’s like I forgot to put it on.”

Distracted by his strange overheating, the still-present need for a headband, and now wondering what on Earth he’s going to wear to his friend’s, Jonah doesn’t notice how, beyond the bizarrely more powerful scent, he has begun to change. The few thin curls in his armpit have multiplied without his notice, stretching longer and spreading beyond their usually trimmed patch. Each new strand drips with sweat, permeating his new musk as he scrambles about the cabin looking for some bandana or hat.

“Duuuuub-” Jonah’s hand bumps into the brim of a hat which he quickly yanks out from the dark recesses of the rental truck only to tilt his head as finding a tacky camo baseball cap, “eugh-” After rubbing his hand through his sweaty hair once more, he grimaces and throws it on anyway, “sorry to whoever's hat this is-” It’s not like he’s going to be seen in the kitschy backwater cosplay, he just needs to make it to a store or somewhere where he can buy a shirt and hair tie, then he’ll be scot-free.

Checking the time with a gasp he returns to the open road without much thought at all, leaving him totally unaware as his hair begins to creep into the cap. Long dirty blonde curls shorn to almost nothing, shortening into some short masc choppy look that doesn’t even have a name. Far from his mind’s eye the idea of going to a barber for years buries itself and begins spreading tendrils towards other inactive memories, “Been a few weeks Rob- Just give me the usual.” Were he to picture the memory he would surely see a man who is not himself in the mirror.

The mirror? His eyes glance to his rearview and he gasps as he sees it’s suddenly angled way off. His usual anxiety quickly makes itself known in his sweaty chest. Eyes wide and on the road he doesn’t look down to catch as each quivering heartbeat leaves his chest wider, sticking out further as disparate strands of muscle begin to bulge. In the few half-seconds of him checking his other mirrors Jonah’s chest begins packing on quite the impressive pecs. “Musta- er Must’ve bumped it or, something?”

Going to adjust the mirror his usually careful hand forcefully bumps into it, grunting he wonders how. He didn’t even lean forward, which he knows he had to do when he first got in the truck. His arm would have to be almost half a foot longer. Throwing his hazards on he quickly pulls over once more, again neglecting to notice his changed hair in the mirror as he instead gasps in shock as he sees the arm of a behemoth dangling from his shoulder. 

In the minute since throwing on the ratty ball cap his arms have begun to grow. Every twitching movement on the wheel, every extension, even the slightest adjustment of his now less-than delicate fingers has been sending waves of change across forearms to which the idea of muscle definition is anathema. His mouth falls open as he takes notice of biceps that would have easily erupted from the sweat-stained shirt he had on, or rather, any shirt he owns. 

Jonah tries to process the meaty hands at the end of meatier arms, staring at the movement of individual muscle fibers under tight, suddenly tanned skin. He gulps as he sees them twitch with every accidental movement, power he can hardly understand coursing through them. His lip quivers into a grin as the idea occurs to flex them and he raises his arm to do so, exposing his tangle of pit hair and allowing sweat to drip down his chest.

Though just before getting the chance to truly indulge and delight, feeling the cold rivulet racing down his side he looks down to discover the new weight hanging on his chest. His eyes shimmer with wonder as he stares at pecs as sculpted as Michelangelo’s David now bulge from under his neck as it too thickens with another harsh swallow. His voice drops while his rougher hands go to cup his pecs, rubbing the few apparently shaved hairs as they begin their regrowth.

Despite his usual lucidity and rationality, something about seeing the rugged arms and chest of a man twice his size, something about feeling the strain of new biceps moving or seeing his handful of almost invisible chest hairs darkening alongside a congregation of new curls, his mind is awash with instincts that don’t seem his own. He smirks as he looks at his reflection in the now-adjusted mirror, higher in the seat both from his body lengthening as well as from sitting straighter with pride, he scratches at the stubble appearing on his chin and turns back to the road thicker brows furrowed into a cocky sneer, “They’re gonna be all fuckin’ over me at this party.”

Dragging his attention from his bulking body back to the road, Jonah can’t help but continue thinking about what a stud he’s becoming, what a stud he is. So focused on the strength ambient within him, delighting on the sensations coursing through him as he playfully flexes his arms and chest, that he hasn’t chance to notice his thoughts truly changing alongside his form. Suddenly a Texas-shaped bottle opener dangles from the set of keys that look far too beat up for a rental company to hand out. Obviously of course, why would a rental company have his truck?

One hand on the steering wheel, Jonah can no longer resist groping at the growing bulge that strains his pants. While it’s been certainly hard since the first glimpse of his bulging bicep, as his pride grows so does what may as well be the source of his masculinity. With each clumsy rub and grasp of his package as it threatens to break free from his pants, he continues to become the man to match his apparent wheels.

So too does his truck slightly shift to perfectly display the man that now identifies as its owner. The floorboard where a ball cap was hidden is littered with detritus from living in the country. Dirt paints the once spotless chassis of the vehicle and at the same time, hair thickens on his form as pubes inch above their brief containment, connecting with a treasure trail that begs to expand.

His balls throb as his once imperceptible treasure trail indeed races to cover the whole of his stomach before racing up to a chest that yields to its own mouth-watering pattern of fur. Pits still dripping with sweat lengthen and spread tantalizingly close to meeting with his garden of chest hair.

Jonah grunts as his new bulge grows large enough that the constriction is outright painful. Freeing his impressive rod it becomes clear that his accusations of redneck truckers compensating could not be further from the truth, in his case that is. His seat creaks under his weight as he squirms to pull his pants down to his knees, freeing bulkier thighs and a perfect bubble butt as both are similarly painted with haphazard brushes of hair. Inner thighs coated with curls add to the rugged forest around his pre-dripping package while new curls on his ass tickle against his warm, sweat-covered seat.

Halfway to masturbating he bites his lip as he tries to restrain his desires and continue driving, though the pushing down of his rigid rod so easily shifts to tugs and thrusts. His sticky, wanting breaths fertilize the growth of stubble on his face that will never vacate and a mustache sticking to his upper lip that will always be just a tad thicker. Meanwhile his calloused hands continue to tantalize a cock  edging closer to a release that he will not let yet arrive. Moaning from the intense need of his loins he grits his teeth and powers down the road voice deep and clearly accented as he whispers to himself, “Gotta save mah spunk for the party…”

Still with each slow grasp and pull towards release, his form continues to pack on weight and slick with denser forests of hair. So too does his outfit change to match his new life, with each half-thrust into his hand the brim on his hat widens, its cheap camo-green fading as it becomes a Stetson that any man of his stature demands. Slightly dressy pants stain blue and roughen into jeans while his shirt disappears entirely.

Finally, shoes that have given up the ghost long ago to feet that would cause anyone’s eyes to widen begin staining brown and reforming. Long, hairy toes that stick out from the once tennis shoes are corralled into the dark, expensive leather of genuine cowboy boots. The new soles click against the pedals of his truck and his thicker brows continue to furrow as he struggles not to cum at the sound of his beast rumbling down the road.

At long last Jonah comes up on the turn to his friend’s little shindig and he sighs in relief at making it before he spills a load on himself. Turning down a long dirt driveway he narrows his eyes as he feels something amiss, would’ve sworn his friend lived in a suburb or somethin’. But then he blinks and remembers obviously not. His boys’d never wanna share their streets with self-important, pretentious pricks. 

Parking in the grass alongside a handful of other trucks, Jonah grunts as he forces his cock down his jeans, its outline quite the clarion call down his pant leg. Buttoning up and cinching a gaudy belt-buckle, Jonah steps out into the party, grabbing a couple of six packs of Lone Star and waddles over to the gathered crew. Taking a deep breath of the cold dusk air as the sun begins to sink past the horizon, though beneath the smell of the woods there is a clear undercurrent of sweaty bodies and something richer, saliter.

Depositing beers that were once a host’s gift and some seltzers, Jonah turns to be greeted by cheers of burly men that seem to have already paired off. Scratching his stubble as he looks for his own quarry his eyes alight onto one shy looking twink standing to the side. Seems he didn’t get the memo that this isn’t some post-ironic gathering, not even wearing a cowboy hat. 

More than ready for some fun, Jonah grabs a discarded hat on the table and wanders over to the lone man. The twink eyes him with a wry smile as he can’t miss the obviously altered gait, they then widen when he recognizes the man as Jonah, “J- Jonah!?” his mouth drops open and his eyes glaze over as something readjusts, “You’ve really, uhm- filled out?” Though even as he says it the idea of the late-comer looking any different than this seems incorrect. 

Jonah ignores the man, Anton, and deposits the hat on his head, leaning down he whispers in his ear, “Evenin’ Ant. You wanna go have some fun?” Anton’s mouth waters as the larger man stands close enough to wash him in musk before deliberately jabbing him with his thick bulge. He babbles something as the new hat blurs his thoughts a tad though it’s more than clear that the thin man, bored out of his mind, has been looking for excitement that only Jonah could bring all night.

Arm around Anton’s shoulder, Jonah escorts him to the back of the nearby barn, already littered with cans and clearly stained by haphazard bodily fluids. Neither man cares as they begin to use the wall just as seemingly every party-goer before them has. Jonah pushes him against the wall and the pair indulge in each other as if there were nothing else in the world. The hat falls from Ant’s head as he begins to change with or without it. His trimmed pubes rapidly stretch above his hairless waistline, racing to connect with chest hair that isn’t even there yet.

His waxed face scratches against Jonah’s itchy jaw and his mouth waters with hunger and jealousy. Before he can even consciously wish for something similar, his own face is overcome with the burning sensation of pores expanding into stubble that has never been given the chance to seed bursting forth. Soon enough his entire face is overtaken by thick lancing curls of a beard. After not much time at all the pair are worked up enough that making out is not nearly enough.

Even as his suitor puts on weight and muscle mass, Jonah easily hoists him up and finally makes use of his new heavy cock. It’s not clear how long the pair exercise their new forms behind the barn. Ant’s rushed initiation into the world of assless chaps and hairy backs and Jonah’s final steps into the hard-working world of farm living last forever and no time at all. Though by the end both men are thoroughly consumed by their new hairy, muscled selves. 

Their hairy bodies rub against each other as new lives together bloom in their minds. Maintaining a small homestead in the town they grew up in, often traveling into the nearby city to show city-folk that country boys ain’t all bad and making it clear to any small minded townies that they better treat their fellow man with respect or get what’s coming to them.

As they reach what must be the apotheosis of their new forms both men lose control at the same time. Awash in the heightened sensation of their new powerful selves and lost in love for each other stronger than they ever thought they’d achieve, Ant and Jonah stumble out from behind the barn.

Ant walking with a gait that can only mean one thing since they certainly weren’t horseback riding. The pair are jeered at by their fellow country queers and finally enjoy the party. It’s a joyous celebration of the first day of the rest of their lives surrounded by their fellow odd folk. When Jonah’s eyes fall back upon the truck he’s been driving for bout a decade now he can’t help but smile in contentment. She ain’t the prettiest wagon in the west, but she got him here. Surrounded by butches and bears alike Wade sits on a bench and pulls his man onto his lap, “Gonna be a good night Ant.” The pair crack open beers and drink in the new world around them, eager to see what their lives together have in store.

[hotmentransformed]

Discarded Gym Clothes

Jared slumped on the cold bench in the locker room, staring despondently at the floor. It was his fourth time here, and he still felt so out of place. He was comfortable with the cardio machines, but the weightlifting area? That was an entirely different world—a world of animalistic grunting, clanging metal, and guys twice his size throwing weights around like toys. He had hovered near them earlier, feeling like an intruder in a foreign land, before retreating to the safety of the locker room. He desperately wanted to be like them but had no idea where to even start.

As he sat there, stewing in his frustrations, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention: a dirty black tank top lay crumpled on the bench across from him, stained with sweat and reeking of body odor. Next to it was a damp, oversized pair of gray sweatpants that similarly reeked. They looked as though they had been left behind by one of those jacked gym regulars that he was too intimidated to approach.

He reached out hesitantly, hoping to bring them to the lost and found. His fingers brushed against the damp fabric. “Gross,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose at the sensation. Yet, despite the dampness and rankness of the clothes, he couldn’t bring himself to leave them for someone else to deal with. His gaze lingered on the worn material, imagining the kind of person who had worn it: strong, confident, sexy. Everything he wasn’t.

Maybe the person was coming back? After all, there are showers in the locker room, perhaps they had simply forgotten to put their dirty gym clothes in their locker. But his body refused to listen to his brain. His arms began moving with a mind of their own. Before he could realize what he was doing and second-guess himself, he had stripped off his shorts, picked up the sweatpants, and slid them over his slim legs. The pair was still warm from the person's previous workout, and the front crotch area felt... crusty..? Jared was bewildered by the betrayal of his body. He hadn't meant to do any of this... why did he put on these gross sweatpants? In response, his arms ripped off his shirt and brought the filthy tank top over his torso, seemingly without him even intending to do so. The tank top was loose, hanging awkwardly off his skinny frame. It was almost disturbingly damp, as though the person who had worn it before him had taken a shower with it... and had never worn deodorant before. Before he had a chance to question what had happened, the tank top settled over his shoulders, and a strange, euphoric warmth spread through him, clouding his mind and releasing his inhibitions. He felt... different.

His eyes flicked over to the mirror on the wall. The clothes still looked oversized, but they didn’t seem ridiculous anymore. They looked... right. He looked at the door leading back to the gym floor, and for the first time, he felt the urge to head to the weight rack.

Walking through the gym floor, his eyes looked past the judgemental stares in his direction for wearing the oversized set of clothes. He didn't notice people fixate on the stains on the crotch or the fact that the tank top was still dripping with sweat. His ears tuned out the gags at the stench they exuded. Jared simply made a beeline for the squat rack. Using his minimal knowledge from observing the gymbros, Jared loaded the barbell with weights and placed himself underneath the barbell, the modest weight balanced awkwardly on his shoulders. He’d never been here before—mentally or physically. This was uncharted territory, but somehow it felt like he knew what he was doing and always had. As he squatted down and pushed back up, he felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt before.

He racked the bar, stepped back, and froze. A faint tingling sensation rippled across his chest and shoulders. It started subtly—like an itch, he couldn’t quite place—but soon intensified into a deep, pulsing, orgasmic warmth. Jared glanced at the mirror and his jaw dropped.

The first change he noticed was his hair. It puffed slightly, the dark brown lightening ever so slightly slightly. Strands began to coil and curl, framing his face as if they were growing right before his eyes. The curls bounced slightly with every breath, thick and untamed as if he’d spent years cultivating the perfect gym-bro mane.

Then he felt his chest suddenly tighten. Jared gasped, grabbing at his pecs instinctively. They felt heavier, denser—like a pump from a workout that wouldn’t fade. His fingers sank into firm muscle, his once-flat chest expanding outward into two solid slabs. He rubbed his chest, in awe of just how much there was to grab. The damp fabric of the tank top, which had hung limply before, now clung to his pecs. His firm nipples were visible through the tank top, which was now skin-tight. The weight of his chest pulled his shoulders back, giving him an imposing, confident posture.

The heat spread to his arms. Jared watched, transfixed, as his biceps began to swell. They grew rounder, and thicker, the veins snaking across them like rivers on a map. His forearms followed suit, the muscles twisting and bulging with newfound definition. His hands, once narrow and delicate, grew rough and calloused, his fingers thicker and more powerful. When he curled his fingers into a fist, it felt like he could crush steel.

Next came his shoulders and back. His shoulders rounded out like firm cannonballs, broadening his frame and making the tank top look as though it was going to burst from his frame. His traps rose like mountains on either side of his neck, which thickened and became more pronounced. Turning to the side, Jared caught a glimpse of his back in the mirror—it was wide, a tapestry of ridges and grooves that looked like they’d been carved by years of hard work.

The sensation moved down to his core. His stomach tightened and hardened, his abs popping into view one by one. A deep V-shaped groove appeared, leading down from his chiseled obliques to his hips. He ran a hand over his stomach, marveling at how solid it felt, the faint sheen of sweat highlighting every ridge.

Then his legs began to change. Jared stumbled, grabbing the squat rack for balance as his thighs expanded, the muscles growing so fast they pushed against the fabric of the once-too-large sweatpants. His quads and calves flared out with each stumble for balance, now thick and powerful, while his ass ballooned to gargantuan proportions, tightening his sweatpants even further and taking up valuable space for his swelling cock, which grew longer and thicker. A soft moan escaped his lips before he could stifle it as his now massive cock began to leak.

Through his orgasmic bliss while leaning against the squat rack, caught a glimpse of his reflection. His face had changed, too—his jawline was sharper, his cheekbones more pronounced. His once-boyish features now carried a rugged, masculine edge. His neck was thick and corded with muscle, tying the whole look together.

He couldn't take it anymore. He let out an animalistic grunt–just like the men who weightlift in the gym always do–as he cummed intensely into his too-tight sweatpants. His vision blurred with the orgasmic pleasure induced by his sudden shift in physique. Drool escaped from his lips as he was consumed by the unadulterated euphoria he now felt. Finally, with one last buck of his wide, muscular hips, he finished, and he began to try and compose himself.

He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling with power. The tank top clung to his body now, soaked with sweat and reeking of effort. His scent filled the air—raw, earthy, and undeniably potent. Jared would have been embarrassed by it before, but now it felt like part of who he was.

He reached up to adjust the tank top, marveling at how his fingers grazed against the boulder-like mounds of his pecs. Turning back to the squat rack, he loaded more plates onto the bar. This time, when he lifted it, it felt like nothing.

Jared racked the barbell with a satisfying clang, stepping back to catch his breath. The weight he’d just squatted was something he wouldn’t have dared to attempt in his wildest dreams. Now, it felt like he could’ve added double the plates. His chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and cum.

He turned toward the mirror again, marveling at the sheer size of his new physique. Every inch of him seemed sculpted as if chiseled from stone. His tank top clung to his massive chest, the sweat-soaked fabric outlining every groove of his pecs and abs. His biceps bulged with each subtle movement, and his shoulders looked broad enough to fill the entire mirror.

“Damn…” Jared muttered, his voice low and resonant now. He grinned, unable to resist flexing his arms for the mirror. The peak of his bicep rose like a mountain, veins snaking across the surface. He turned slightly, watching how his back flared out like wings, tapering down to his impossibly tight waist.

Jared glanced around, then pulled his phone out from his gym bag. This body wasn’t something he could keep to himself. Standing in front of the mirror, he adjusted his stance, planting his legs wide to show off his tree-trunk legs. He flexed his arms again. The lighting in the gym was perfect. He snapped a photo, making sure to catch the curve of his biceps, the sharp cut of his jawline, and the unapologetic confidence in his smirk.

Satisfied, he tossed his phone back into his bag, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. For the first time in his life, Jared felt not just strong—but unstoppable.

Jared slung his gym bag over his shoulder, his massive arm flexing with the motion. The straps dug slightly into his broad, muscular shoulders, but he barely noticed. His chest still glistened with sweat, the tank top clinging to him like a second skin. Each step he took toward the exit felt heavy with purpose, his powerful thighs threatening to burst from his sweatpants and his calves popping with every stride.

As he pushed open the gym doors, the cool air hit his sweat-drenched skin, refreshing and invigorating. Jared took a moment to breathe deeply, his massive chest rising and falling. He grinned to himself as he strode across the parking lot

His car was, dwarfed by his hulking presence. Jared swaggered toward it, moving with an effortless macho bravado. His biceps brushed against his sides as he walked, forcing his arms to swing slightly outward. The scent of his workout still hung around him—sweaty, musky, and undeniably masculine.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he felt the car groan slightly under his new weight. The steering wheel felt smaller in his powerful hands, and the seatbelt stretched tight across his chest, barely able to contain the bulk of his pecs. He caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror and smirked. The jacked, curly-haired bodybuilder staring back at him was a far cry from the skinny kid who had driven here earlier.

He adjusted the mirror to take in more of his reflection. His jawline looked razor-sharp, his hair wild and tousled from the workout, and his shoulders seemed to crowd the frame. Jared couldn’t help but flex a little as he reached for the ignition, veins popping along his forearm.

The car roared to life, and Jared revved the engine, enjoying the vibrations running through his chest. He shifted into gear, peeling out of the parking lot. His smirk widened as he turned onto the main road, his car rumbling like a predator on the prowl.

Jared didn’t know exactly where he was going, but it didn’t matter one bit. His new life wasn’t about the destination—it was about the ride. And, man was he ready to take his body for one hell of a ride.

[melancholicstation]

HUSBAND JACK SCHLOSSBERG HEADCANONS 𓍼 𓇢𓆸

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

might make this into a couple of one-shots??

imagining WIFE!READER as an orion carloto type, who balances modelling and writing, and makes tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox on tiktok (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce.

met wife!reader at a runway after party of an up and coming new york indie brand ( sandy liang, khaite, bode etc. )

proposes to you with the blythe doll you had been obsessing over, dressed in a wedding dress and hand-customised by a popular etsy dealer with quite a high rate like this girl on tt

encouraged by jack to do a ‘what’s in my ( miu miu joie leather ) bag’ video on tiktok to help campaign for kamala akin to this video of anne hathaway but with a different vibe.

jack is ultimate embarrassing hard launcher bofy, leaving in all his girlfriends giggles that come from his chaotic antics when filming his videos.

wife!reader loves to slather jack’s face in biologique recherche’s “masque vivant”, he complains that it smells like rotting meat😹😹😹😹😹.

jack would be always on that damn phone during your runway shows, recording each time you pass him by in the catwalk.

would be the absolute opposite of marriage-shy.

unpopular opinion this man would be asking about marriage, a solid 3 months in ( jfk and jackie married in a YEAR )

fucks UP a rotisserie chicken.

forwards you his tweets before and asks if they’re good enough to post.

smells like aesop musk and of herbal deodorant.

wife!reader buys rick owen’s black and white t-shirts and slacks for jack, and jack’s absolutely baffled when he learns the price tag.

love language is buying wife!reader drinks whenever and wherever they are: hot chocolate in central park, home-delivers you a sab benedetto sparkling water because he had a meeting at cipriani downtown, and always orders a polo bar punch for you prior to your arrival to your shared weekly dinner date at the polo bar on 55th st.

instigates a24 marathons on friday nights, much to the dismay of your prior night plans ( you are more of a criterion collection girl and have held a subscription since you were a freshman in college )

( clumsily ) slips lana del rey lyrics into sexting and dirty talk.

husband!jack and wife!reader texts go like this:

jack is horrific at low impact pilates, he needs to be near a body of water.

he wears your prized doublesoul x orion caroloto ‘lamb’ socks around your woodfloored high-rise despite your varied attempts at hiding them from him.

constantly frets over you during society galas, which is quite convenient due to your tempered social anxiety and your forgetful memory of high society etiquette.

immediately brings you to meet the family, for which you were completely unprepared for ( i’m imagining something reminder of that one story of meghan markle meeting princess kate middleton in ripped jeans and bare feet )

jack loves to wear your 100% cotton brandy melville pointelle tanks despite them being comically tiny for his frame.

would have an innocence kink.

he gets intensely flushed when called his proper full name: john bouvier kennedy schlossberg, wife!reader abuses this to the HIGHEST degree!!!

the first time he entered you apartment he was constantly paranoid of breaking anything because your house was littered with ceramics from brooklyn under-ground designers and clay lamb figurines.

he NEEDS his beauty Zzzzzzz or else.

plays with your very expensive westman atelier blushes like a toddler.

sickly devoted to you.

you both want to adopt a lamb despite living in a HIGH-RISE apartment.

sends pics captioned with anaïs nin lewd quotes.

he would think whole foods was stupidly over priced but would purchase his groceries there in spite of his opinions.

has hyperfixations on old-hollywood women which causes you to be snippy at him for exactly 2-3 hours ex. jack’s current hyper fixation on audrey hepburn being his doppelgänger.

wife!reader definitely participated in that egg cracking trend where girls would crack an egg on their boyfriends head.

would love caring for your hair and doing your curly girl hair routine if you had one.

wife!reader does small yet viral shoots for brands like mirror palais, the row, and loewe.

manhandles you ( lovingly ) without even trying.

mans is a chronic diptyque candle lighter.

loves to be coddled and cradled as a grown man…

plays with your van cleef stack before stage when he’s nervous about his speech landing correctly

uses his family connections to get his girl courted by the high-ticket fashion brands: schiaparelli, chanel, dior, yves saint laurent etc.

[ericscroptop]

You Got All Of My Attention

✧ pairing: bf! eric x gf! reader

✦ genre: fluffy smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, dry/wet humping, self-conscious reader about weight for a small portion of this fic but this fic isn’t centered around that and weight is not specified, cursing, teasing, kissing, so much grinding, oral— female receiving towards the end, handjob towards the end, marking, dirty talk, praising/praise kink, pet names, fluff, small aftercare

✦ word count: 6.9k words

✧ synopsis: touching each other sweetly and hotly is one of your favorite forms of communication.

✦ note: let’s all take a moment to appreciate pink eric bc i love pink eric sm— live laugh love pink ‘ric

also— *insert that one tweet where someone said they hope dry humping becomes the next pandemic*

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“What should I put on?” Eric voices to you from the living room with the TV remote within his grasp, eyes scanning through the various movies and shows on you guys’ favorite streaming service.

“Put on our comfort movie!” you answer from the kitchen, putting away leftovers from tonight’s dinner.

He knows exactly what you mean, and so his fingers press on the respective buttons of the control, navigating to find said comfort movie to play.

Once it’s successfully playing, he parks his rear on the couch. He folds his arms back, elbows up and hands behind his head. His thighs instinctively spread out as he leans his head back on the sofa pillows, eyes fluttering closed due to the comfort of the cushions and full-belly from dinner that has left him satisfied.

Meanwhile, you quickly finish cleaning up and strut gleefully towards the couch. You meet with your boyfriend, his eyes still shut, looking so laid-back and madly handsome in his loungewear— light grey joggers and a black fitted tank top.

You don’t hesitate in taking a seat right next to him, plopping yourself over the cushion and bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them.

The couch dipping causes his left eye to open while his eyebrow on the same side raises, corners of his lips tugging upwards now that you’ve joined him.

“Tired?” you question.

“A little, but I still wanna hangout with you for a bit before bed.” his voice comes out in a slight lower pitch.

You hummed in response. His eyes fully absorb your curled-up figure. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, and it’s big enough to swallow a decent portion of your body. When standing up, it covers your bottom. But in this current position you’re in, your (his) shirt has bunched up enough to give him a glimpse of your seamless cheeky boy shorts.

It was common for you to roam around the house like that. Short-shorts or panties with an oversized t-shirt.

Still, his heart— and even his dick— swelled with various intense feelings. Love tied with lust mainly. As much as he appreciated the effort you would put into dolling yourself up and enhancing your features from time to time, he appreciated just as much when you wore casual clothing.

Especially when it was his clothing. God, how could you look so cute and simultaneously sexy while wearing his t-shirt?

There was a sense of pride that raised his ego when you would dress in his clothing. You wearing his shirt may not seem like anything special to some. But to him, it was a subtle form of intimacy.

You were comfortable with being engulfed in his clothes, and he always insisted on sharing his clothes without hesitation. To the point where you would find yourself in his closet picking through his wardrobe, and even having favorites that you both knew all too well.

Endearment resides inside his heart seeing you so carefree in his shirt, all relaxed, cute, and comfy. There’s something about that loose t-shirt of his that has been imbued plenty of times with his deodorant, cologne, body wash, sweat, laundry detergent, etc., and you wearing it, choosing to be protected by his scent.

Each of your scents would mix together, and it just tied your bond closer. As well as how you felt so safe around him to walk around in your underwear or lazy attire. It was so vulnerable since you always dressed up otherwise— or felt self-conscious occasionally in public.

But with Eric, he was that special person that got to see all forms and sides of you. He was the lucky guy that you trusted beyond words, who you loved enough to be home-free snuggled up in his shirt.

It was beyond adorable seeing you snug like a bug in a rug like this. Though, he can’t help himself in getting the hots for you in his clothes, too.

His shirt over your body was a mark of territory. It was not only a gesture that embodied values of love and connection, but it was also very possessive in a way. It’s like you’re wrapping yourself in his love, and something that has also caressed his skin, now caresses yours.

It doesn’t help that you chose to pair his shirt with solely panties. And, you’re braless underneath.

Your current attire leaves room for his imagination to roam freely, thinking about your bare body underneath, and how you’re his sweet girl, looking so dainty in his shirt swallowing you.

Fuck. The dinner you two had left him stuffed, but you’re currently working up his appetite again. He has the urge to bite your cheeks and squeeze your body out of fondness, as well as kiss you until you’re breathless and feel you up shamelessly until you’re squirming and surrender to his touches.

Your eyes are currently trained on the screen, embracing your legs tightly while focused on one of your favorite scenes you’ve watched over a dozen times.

This makes him frown unconsciously, wondering why you didn’t immediately jump your bones on him as soon as you sat down on the couch. Your attention is caught elsewhere. I mean, you did want to watch a movie together. But you could at least be cuddled up in his arms. Why hug yourself when he’s right here?

You say something aloud to your boyfriend, but Eric doesn’t catch it, too busy sulking mentally at the fact that your body wasn’t close enough to be touching his own.

His lack of response makes your facial features shift into a concerned expression, looking over at him in question.

It is then that you see him appear a bit petulant. He doesn’t realize he’s pouting, brows slightly creased as he’s lost in his pettish, whiny thoughts.

Although his lip protrudes naturally, his lips are pushed forward more emphasized than usual. It makes him look rather cute, honestly. You have to push back your instinct to coo at him to instead, question what is the reason for that frowny look on his face.

“Eric? What’s wrong?” you query, perplexed by his down-looking appearance.

The ring of you saying his name hitting his ears gets him to perk up, features softening once he makes eye contact with you.

His heart is practically melting, and he can’t wait any longer to openly display his affection for you. He’s gonna take matters into his own hands.

“C’mere.” he motions with both his hands to come closer to him.

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity as you inch closer until your shoulders are basically touching, making that pout on his lips reappear once you stop since you deem that as close enough— but not in Eric’s mind.

He takes it upon himself to hoist you onto his lap, leaving you to panic at the sudden act.

“What— Eric! That tickles! What are you—”

“There we go.” he interrupts your frantic spouts of words. He spreads his legs enough to get you comfortable, adjusting your body to straddle him and holds you by the hips.

Heat blossoms in your cheeks and your body stiffens from being caught off guard, now seated right over your boyfriend.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck to keep yourself secure, and you felt a bit tensed-up.

Even though Eric loved getting handsy with you because you were too lovely to ignore, and you two have been dating for awhile now that you should be used to his impulsive urges of getting you onto his lap— for instance, it would get you all bashful.

Right now, you were conscious of your weight over his lap, hoping you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable in bearing your body in this sitting position. You also were mindful of any movement you could make, knowing you could accidentally hurt him or it be sensitive.

But he just smiled at you with a beautiful twinkle present in his eyes, pleased to be this intimate with you. Him wanting and guiding you on his lap is his display of physical affection and emotional connection towards you.

“Such a pretty baby over my lap, hm.” he speaks sweetly to you, which is second nature for him. He tucks a strand of loose hair that got in the way of your face, behind your ear to soak in your facial features with clarity while he cooed at you.

“Eric.” you whined and drew out his name with a shy chuckle. His eyes continued to scan all over your features, absorbing them admiringly, leaving you sheepish from the spotlight on you.

His staring initiates you to look away on impulse, but his movements are faster. Before you know it, his dominant hand grabs hold of your jaw gently, prompting your eyes and lips to widen slightly.

“Let me appreciate my girl, yeah?” he utters, beginning to thumb your cheek affectionately to ease you up.

His words continue to leave you flustered. Your tummy feels like butterflies are fluttering around wildly, and a spark of heat bursts all over your body.

A soft smile adorned his features, thumb still stroking your cheek. All that was in his mind was how you’re the prettiest girl in the world. Solely focused on how you’re dangerously close in proximity to him, engulfed in his scent.

Eric was such a flirt, always direct in showing you how he wants you. And although he liked toying with you for amusement, his actions were also because you were too seductive and irresistible to ignore.

He loved your cute reactions when he complimented you or touched you. He knows you also feel strongly for him, but you were just too shy sometimes to initiate touches, accept compliments, or even with simply maintaining eye contact.

“I like having you close like this.” he announces before chasing one of your cheeks with his lips, making your face scrunch up cutely from the incoming kiss as he dots his lips just over the apple of it.

You’re overwhelmed with various emotions that leave you feeling like mush from his lovey-dovey behavior. When he pulls back, his hands rub your sides soothingly through the fabric of your shirt, making you remember how your weight sat right over him.

“Are you comfy like this? I don’t wanna sit here for too long if—”

He cuts you off with a tsk, in disbelief that you’re even asking him that when he’s the one who pulled you over him.

“Always feels good when you’re in my arms. You rarely sit over me like this. Never wanna let you go.” he speaks lowly, reassuring that you’re fine just where you’re at by wrapping his hands fully around you. He engulfs you into a hug, his chin pressing against your shoulder, making your cheeks squish together.

One of his hands inches lower to your rear, cupping the area protectively, out of fondness.

Your beautiful form and scents right in front of him was such a rush and provided solace to his senses.

You felt the same way. This warm cuddle session was so heartening that your boyfriend cared about you. This moment of togetherness was peaceful, bringing you feelings of tranquility.

It felt good to be loved explicitly. Being indulged constantly with both physical and verbal reminders that Eric cherishes you.

You decide to reciprocate that reassuring physical affection by plopping your lips over his temple, allowing your lips to linger a bit atop his skin while strands of his hair tickled your nose.

The aroma of his hair care products hits your nostrils, making you hum, comforted by his signature scents.

You pull back soon to check out your boyfriend’s face. His face is sitting pretty with a grinning gaze written over him.

Taking advantage of this proximity, you inspect his features worshipfully.

His gleaming eyes blink at you curiously, eyeing the way your own pupils scan over him.

During your gawking, your mind and eyes appreciate all the handsome features of your lover: The small mole on his left waterline. His high nose bridge. The crescent-shaped scar next to the corner of his mouth on his right side. His full bottom lip. All of his details were exquisitely crafted, leaving a face that should have a portrait in The Louvre.

As beautiful of a person he is on the inside, his outside is equally as beautiful.

There’s silence for a minute or so as he allows you to stare at him. He wanted to bask in this moment of you eyeing him up close for a bit, since it was rare that you’d allow yourself to stare openly like this without growing shy quickly.

His mouth stretches into a sly smile, finding you so charming in this moment. It’s also gratifying watching the way you look at him. Almost like you’re in awe of him, so fixated on him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he cocks his head slightly back, still smiling.

You know he secretly finds this amusing, making you let out a small giggle, eyes shying away for a second before returning to him. Your left hand sinks its way into his scalp, threading through his pink strands with your fingers.

“You’re just so pretty. Really handsome, ‘ric.” you voice, face vibrant as you continue eyeing him.

Your words make Eric chuckle. He rubs your body tenderly, enjoying this moment of you candidly admitting aloud to him how attractive he is.

Of course, he already knows how you feel about him. But hearing it aloud makes him feel validated— especially when you specifically called him pretty.

Pretty is traditionally associated with femininity and daintiness, and so as a man, it wasn’t common to be complimented with that word.

But he loves it. It’s so flattering, plus soft and sweet. He wallows in you giving him the highest form of compliments. Hearing his girl praise him with honeyed words left his face glowing, cheeks beginning to blush slightly. You make him feel more beautiful and better about himself.

An endeared little grin stumbles over his features. He has to hold himself back from wanting to bite your delicate cheeks out of his own cute aggression towards you. So instead, he settles for a little teasing.

“Am I now?”

He decides to squeeze one of your sides, resulting in you doing your best in not squirming due to the tingly stir your core and skin feel from his playful touch.

A small noise leaves your throat, a mix between a giggle and whimper. It’s quick though, and you let out a scoff right after, shaking your head a bit.

“As if you don’t know.” you muttered.

“Tch,” he makes that sound in turn and licks his lips, “I love it when it comes from you, though.”

“It’s so sweet to hear that my baby finds me pretty.” he purrs. You don’t miss seeing his pupils lower to leer over your lips.

Your arms clutched more tightly around his neck, afraid you would turn into jelly and tumble over as a result of his flirtatious behavior.

It’s all getting to you: Your arms around his neck, clinging onto him. The conversations shared with your breath so closed to one another. Your body seated over his, lips and faces millimeters apart. Him referring to you as ‘his baby.’ The mere sound of his voice.

Eric is practically tempting and inviting you to love up on him. You want to communicate your intense romantic feelings for him without words. Your vision darts to his mouth, then up to meet his gaze. Desire coats your orbs, and Eric takes notice of it, as it’s mirroring his own.

“Gimmie kiss.” he pleads with that velvety voice of his.

Before you know it, your lips end up meeting with a soft, gentle caress.

Your lips brush together in a slow, tender rhythm. Each other’s noses graze past jointly, engrossed in chasing the familiar taste of one another.

Suddenly you’re hooked and spaced off Eric’s mouth moving in sync with your own. Your fingers card through his hair while his own hands still reside over your hips, smoothing over your clothed torso.

Bliss washes all over you. The loving touches and brushing of lips are extremely addicting, keeping you both to continue with your movements, kisses deepening.

Just a couple tastes of his lips has you aching for more. Listening to each other’s breathing and feeling your bodies pressed tightly together is like fuel to the fire growing inside of you.

Even more so when suddenly you feel something growing and growing underneath you— that something being your boyfriend’s cock.

You withdraw your lips from his with a smacking sound and a slight moan. This prompts Eric to open his eyes, looking worked-up from the hot embrace you’ve shared.

He hunts for your lips for more, but you don’t give him a chance to kiss you again. Instead, you attend to his jawline with your mouth, running fleeting kisses along the sharp profile.

That makes him stunned, swallowing hard with his eyes shutting once again, allowing you to move your lips affectionately over his skin.

Your hormones are getting to you. You had the instinct to drag your lips over his sensitive spots, letting him be praised for his existence with your mouth.

Your kisses pepper down along his neck, causing Eric to writhe underneath you and softly groan. Especially when you hit that sweet spot of his.

You can’t restrain from smiling when he angles his neck to give you better access, and feel him start to grip at your shirt.

Kissing his neck has him raging inside. He’s going feral for you with the way you’re seated over him, kissing one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

He can’t handle being sensually loved like this for too long without him wanting to reciprocate that same energy at a greater volume.

“Baby…” he groans, making you hum against his skin, pussy pulsing at the sound of his gravelly voice.

“Look at me.” he adds when you don’t stop.

That gets your attention, so you retreat from his neck.

You flip your hair back and your heart is pumping rapidly in anticipation once you meet his eyes. They look loaded with lust, and it’s definitely a fact when he leans suddenly into your neck, mouth latching onto your skin in an instant.

A gasp leaps from you when you feel your skin pulled slightly into his lips, trapping the area.

He starts sucking intensely, and then releases every now and then to scatter kisses all over.

He’s dominating you now. His mouth travels all across your neck, even grazing his teeth over one of your earlobes and tonguing at the flesh.

Your senses are heightened, majorly aroused from being attended to.

Lost in the feeling, your hands travel to his back, finding themselves creep underneath his black tank, nails pressing into his skin due to how hooked he’s got you.

One of his hands cradles the nape of your neck, keeping you firm to his liking. When his mouth lands on the front of your throat, the slight pressure he gives your skin with his teeth gets you all tingly all the way down south. It’s impulsive for you to shift and jerk your hips down into him while he abuses your neck eagerly.

Your reactions make Eric release a breathy laugh. He always gets a kick out of worshipping his girl. Delicate moans leave your mouth. Dirty, but delicate. Hearing your noises is such a treat, sweet to his senses.

His hard cock getting butted by your cute bum cheeks is tantalizing the fuck out of him. It’s getting too hot to handle, but he wants more of it.

And it also seems like you’re seeking for more.

“Wanna hump me? Is that what you want?” he rasps out, continuing to work deliberately in painting love bites on you.

When the smutty question hits your ears, you whimper from a combination of neediness and meekness. You’re sure a pink tint colors your cheeks.

His lips remove from your neck due to your lack of words, eyes immediately searching for yours.

You start gnawing on your lower lip, trying to hold back on any more whiny noises while he kneads your thighs and hips, only teasing you more.

“Tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you, princess. Whatever you want, I want it, too.” His eyes are soft, but still radiate a provocative, thirsty look.

“I want this… wanna rub against you, just like this.” you vocalized and blinked shyly. It’s undeniable that you’ve been possessed by the horny gods. And so, you painfully needed stimulation towards your cunt— with the help of your beautiful boyfriend who is the reason why you’ve gone horny.

He gives you a broad smile, proud and pleased to hear you verbalize what you want— even if he had to encourage you to do so.

One activity that is one of your absolute favorites is dry humping. It does great service for you as it’s effective stimulation. Rubbing over and over that golden area of your sex felt euphoric and gratifying. Especially if you were rubbing yourself over your boyfriend’s body parts, expressing how turned on he got you.

The build up, tension, setting the mood, and losing yourself in the craving for more was extremely addictive sexual gratification.

For Eric personally, watching you make yourself feel good and full of eagerness to satisfy your needs is a high better than any drug out there.

Although sometimes it leaves him sore for a bit, he’d do anything to hear and see you sexually worked up. It also was like heaven for him, feeling his pretty girl wildly fuck herself over his crotch, allowing each of your bottoms to become marinated in lubrication and precum. It’s so dirty but hot.

His hands travel underneath your shirt, fingers roaming over your bare sides and middle. That causes you to suck in a breath, feeling ticklish to the direct skin contact for a second before you’re inflamed to squeeze your cunt against his bulge.

“Raise ‘em up for me, baby.” he instructs.

And you know the drill, raising your arms gleefully and allowing him to uncover your torso.

He readily removes and tosses your shirt to the ground. Your breasts sit bare now, staring directly at Eric.

His mouth is practically watering at the sight. He loves when you put on his clothes, but he also loves when you take it off to unveil your precious body. Bonus points if he’s the one taking it off you, just like right now.

“So beautiful.” he murmurs, so mesmerized.

Your pussy flutters from the flattery. You’re even more heated sexually and from your cheeks now that your upper body is naked.

Eric attempts to put his hand on one of your mounds, but you stop him with your own before he even has the chance, much to his dismay.

A confused expression is present on his face until you position his arms upwards, indicating that you wanted him to remove his top as well before you two got into it.

“Your turn.” you say cheekily, your boyfriend smirking in exchange and permits you to remove his shirt for him.

And so it’s off swiftly, upper body bare with a glimpse of his Calvin briefs, waistband visible.

“How the fuck are you so hot, Eric?” you practically moan out shamelessly, letting your hands explore his biceps and eyes to wander fervidly around his abdomen. His muscles flex as your hands and eyes roam over him, face smug.

“So vocal with praising me today.” Such a sweet girl.” his hands rub your thigh and the small of your back gingerly, tickled pink from your verbal and physical reactions to him.

He makes every inch of you tingle. You knead at his biceps intimately, touching him to show your cosmic appreciation and attraction for him.

Now that you’re both topless, he reaches towards your chest, not being stopped this time. You allow him to grab hold of your tits. His hands fondle and slightly bounce your breasts within his grapple.

“Love holding my girls.” he breathes out, relishing in how they hung and sat in his palms.

You continue to grip onto his arms as he touches your sensitive breasts, pussy pulsing from pleasure and desire.

You rut your clothed sex down into his crotch, sex aching for stimulation.

The delicious weight of you on top of his throbbing cock has him sighing wistfully. He needs more of you, and so, he encircles one of your nipples with his mouth, suckling gently, which makes you shakily breathe out and arch up into him.

You reposition your arms to wrap around his neck, keeping him close and steady.

His mouth persists in showing his full admiration to the beauty you possess with his lips and tongue, making shapes and sucking with intent.

He has you rocking your hips and dragging your core uncontrollably. You’re becoming cross-faded from his vigorous attention to your tits and off the nice feeling of his boner pressing against you.

You tug at his hair, displaying how strung-out he’s got you. It makes him growl while he’s busy stuffing his mouth with your chest.

He takes you pulling his hair as an invitation to advance back to your lips.

He rises from your breasts, searching for your mouth and locks his lips with your own fiercely.

The way he kisses you is ardent, and you don’t miss a beat in kissing him back with the same urgency.

“Mmmphh…” you whimpered as he slips his tongue in and brushes it against your own. You take every move he gives you well, reciprocating that same energy.

Your hand made a fist into his hair, fingers clutching hard and stimulating his scalp, too caught up in the way his lips stroked and engulfed yours.

He responds to your thrilling grasp with a slight-little tug on your bottom lip. You persist with your grinding as you two share wild and unrestrained kisses. The pain-mixed-pleasure from his nibbles and hard cock prodding your aching pussy has you in utter ecstasy.

Eric is equally as overwhelmed in excitement. He starts to push his hips up to meet your movements, then is greeted by your lips parting from his own, hushed gasps releasing from you as a result.

The reaction from you gets him to smirk, seeing you all stupefied just from his clothed cock knocking into your clothed pussy.

After a couple gasps, you attempt to revert back to his lips again but he dodges you, too amused in seeing how worked up you’ve become.

You try to kiss him again and he only allows each of your lips to faintly graze together before ripping himself away.

“Stop teasing me.” you whined breathlessly, still trying to plant your lips over his but he continues to give you nothing. He only allows your features to sweep lightly.

He grins mischievously, too struck on the pouted look on your face. It’s adorable seeing you get so riled up. He couldn’t help it. You were so fun to play with.

Though, it’s funny until your ruts into his manhood grow stronger. Your frustration has you increasing the downward thrust of your pelvis, making Eric groan and shut his eyes instantaneously.

You whimper pathetically while you grind and bounce into him. Eric bites his lip and his hands start to grip at your hips, swamped in how the friction applied is too divine for his cock.

While straddling him, you’re free to control the speed and intensity of your motions. You’ve got this animalistic desire to satisfy your moist, hot pussy and get you and your boyfriend off.

Something about fucking into him with clothed bottoms, no penetration, and greedy humps is beyond intimate, filthy, and desperate. It fueled you with passion, love, and lust for him.

Pants and moans exchange galore, and you’re still grinding down enthusiastically, all frenzied trying to reach climax. Though, Eric doesn’t want you going too hard in this position. Usually he’s the one being dominant, and he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself like this even if it feels good.

“Fuck, babe… Easy girl., easy.” he breathes, getting you to slow down and halt your movements.

With heavy breaths and mewls, you do stop and he finally gives you the kisses he withheld from you as a reward. You happily kiss him, clutching onto him like you never want to let go.

“Lie on your back for me, princess. I’ll make you cum, don’t worry.” he mumbles over your lips, sending sparks to your cunt.

And so you do as told, sadly separating from his lap but ready for whatever new pleasure he was about to give you. You lie back on the couch, looking at him from a new angle.

Eric then starts to tug off his joggers, now leaving you both in just your underwear.

Your eyes are heavy lidded, and your hands and legs roam promiscuously, waiting for his next move within the couple seconds he takes.

Your breath is stuck in your throat when he leans down over your body, now caged by him.

Your heart’s simultaneously beating rapidly and swimming in passion when he leans his lips towards your nose, pressing his lips against the tip of it.

His cutesy gesture is soothing and has you smiling fondly. It distracts you from this spicy position you’re in for only a tiny moment. In a flash, his manhood and hips push into you, making you moan loudly at the feeling.

Eric moans alongside you. With his pants off, you can feel his manhood better. The thinner the barrier, the stronger the sensation.

He quickly falls into a rhythm while humping into you. Eric has always had better stamina and energy than you. Straddling him and having you uber close in his lap is utterly perfect, but desperately bucking into you missionary style is also amazing.

Getting to control the pace and seeing you underneath him and vice versa felt so primal. He can’t abstain from diving into your neck to start marking you up some more. Fine bites and kisses are scattered across the skin he’s able to reach, still rocking himself into you.

It’s all so dizzying. It’s hard to think coherently when surrendering to his lusty affection. Your body feels inexplicably good like this. All you can do is weakly pant and mewl, inherently arching your back.

His hips rock and slide against yours in gushing lust. Rutting into you in this angle has his manhood roaring with ferocity. His movements provide pleasurable pressure against your clit and better direct sensations across your entire sex.

The strokes of his clothed shaft and head against your panty-covered pussy is delectable. A wet patch formed on Eric’s briefs where he strained against the material, and your panties were also past damp. Your soaked underwear mingled with his own, providing such a beautiful sensation.

Watching your boyfriend rub into you and listening to his ragged breaths is driving you crazy. Not to mention the obvious clit-centric pleasure you’re receiving.

The more he humps into you and drops kisses over your face, lips, and tits, the more tense you become.

You feel your muscles starting to contract involuntarily. You’re flushed all over and there’s a concentrated sensation in your groin.

“Eric…” you breathlessly warn, knowing you’re on the verge of cumming in your panties.

And he too knows immediately and gets the hint. He wants you to release freely and not ruin your underwear with your fluids more than already is.

So he inches down and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull down and off your saturated bottoms.

You jolt as he unexpectedly dives his face into your pussy without warning. I mean— you should’ve known he would start eating you out to finish you off. Your man was a munch.

He messily kisses your wet cunt. His hands keep your legs spread open while he starts lapping and sweeping his tongue into every inch of your pussy possible.

“Oh fuck, Eric!” you cry a high pitched moan, face contorted from his wet muscle gladly screwing your cunt.

He grunts raveningly as he slurps at your folds and wetness, not hiding from making noise to show you how prized your pussy is to him.

It’s all toe curling, and your eyes are practically watering from how good he’s making you feel.

It hits you hard when his tongue lands on your clit, licking your swollen nub and eventually sucking on it.

“Oh my god, Eric! Eric!” you cry out again, hands finding themselves in his hair and holding on for dear life. His hold on your legs tightens while he keeps toying with your nub, ready for you to cum on his face any second now.

You spout various sounds as your core snaps and it’s pulsing, clear fluid finally flowing out.

He’s still tending to your clit when you burst, his chin and mouth glistening wet with your secretions. Your legs are basically numb, body trembling and muscles still contracting.

“That’s it, baby! That’s my girl.” he heaves out a praise, pulling away from your sensitive clit to sweetly kiss one of your thighs for being so wonderful.

Within seconds though, his mouth is back on your sex, lathering his tongue with your juices.

He avariciously drinks up his honey, cleaning you up real good. Meanwhile, you’re whimpering weakly, lightheaded post-orgasm. You let him lick your fluids, eventually whining repeatedly when it becomes too much and you realize how sensitive you’ve become to where it’s torturous for him to keep messing with your cunt.

Your whines wake him up from his pussy daze and he backs off. At then he is aware again of how awfully hard his throbbing cock is, begging for relief under his briefs.

You each are trying to catch your breaths. You’re lying limp while Eric can’t seem to ignore his bulging veins and the heaviness between his legs.

“Can you help me cum, princess?” he voices desperately with pleading eyes.

You’ve grown weary now that you’ve been satisfied but you can’t ignore your poor, sweet boyfriend, who has yet to cum himself. He needed some help, and you were going to give it to him.

You pull your right arm up, gesturing that you needed help to sit up. You weakly smile as he carefully pulls you up, groaning quietly as a result of your sore and swollen bare pussy.

A hand of yours creeps over one of his thighs, patting him compassionately while he begins to caress the small of your back.

You make him suck in a breath and then grunt when you redirect your hand to start massaging his stained, damp crotch.

“I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?” you pouted teasingly, enjoying the way he’s trying to control himself under your touch.

“Let me fuck your hand— please.” he airily moans, beginning to jerk into your palm.

Always impatient, you think to yourself. You can’t blame him though. Teasing and waiting for stimulation was always excruciating. He deserved what he wanted after helping you cum like the good boyfriend he is.

Your fingers move to tug at his underwear, and he promptly adjusts his position to remove them fully. His cock immediately slaps up against his abdomen, making him sigh out from his manhood finally being free.

The sight of his rosy cock has your pussy tingling for the nth time today. You can’t even get a word out before he reaches for your dominant hand and guides it to his cock.

You both gasp in chorus when your hand wrapped around his grips at his manhood. His hand doesn’t detach. Instead, he guides your hand slowly up and down his shaft.

Your lips part as you feel the warmth of his cock radiating from all the blood rushing within it. A breathy laugh comes out of Eric, causing you to dart your gaze up to look at him. The tip of his tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth, luxuriating in the sensation of your soft, slightly smaller hand jacking him off.

Despite you knowing how to give him a hand job well on your own, he still keeps his hand over yours. Something about holding and guiding your hand while you touched his private parts was such a turn-on. It was indeed intimate, and only connected you two more. He refused to let go of you.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, babe.” he rasps.

Hearing his low voice, seeing him all weak and vulnerable, and touching his cock has you squeezing your cunt. Aiding him in masturbating is so yummy. He was fully naked in front of you with his pink hair, pink cheeks, and pink cock. God bless Eric and his beautiful form. You are beyond lucky to be here with him, and the only person that gets to do this to him.

“So hot and pretty for me.” you worshiped, squeezing his cock just a bit more, which gets him to moan loudly, harmonic to your ears. You love that he is always so vocal.

Your strokes are gentle and hard throughout. Both of you have your mouths dumbly ajar, moaning while your fists moved up and down together.

It doesn’t take long for the pace to build up, jerking him relentlessly. He’s panting nonstop, and you decide to add more stimulation onto him by using your free hand to grab his balls.

That’s the ticket for him. He hisses and calls out your name brokenly. You cup them, rubbing them and gently massaging his weighty sac. Your other hand continues to jerk him with his hand still steering yours. Getting his cock rubbed by his girl fully naked is sending him straight to heaven; he can’t seem to calm down.

“Cum for me, Eric. Wanna make my pretty boy cum. Need it.” you egg him on with your sweet voice begging. You even start to thumb at the looser skin of his sac between the balls, playfully tugging at it.

He throws his head back and moans harshly at that, followed by whiny whimpers. “Fucking hell, Y/n!” he pants.

You continue to encourage and coo at him to let it all out. When he finally can’t take it anymore and he’s ready to blow, he removes your hand from his shaft rather madly, and then he starts jacking off by himself to begin pumping out his seed.

Since he was face-deep in your pussy when you came, you believe you should return the favor by allowing him to cum all over your face, too. Plus, you knew he loathed when his orgasms didn’t involve cumming on or in you.

You stick your tongue out gladly, your eyes seductive and inviting him to make a mess out of you.

He looks at you and you’re the definition of a real-life fantasy. He can’t believe that you’re real, presenting yourself like this behind closed doors.

The tightening, tickling, and tingling sensation that rises from his balls and through his cock, finally catches up to him. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he rolls his eyes back, releasing and squeezing his cock head to shoot several ropes of hot cum all over your face.

A gasp jumps out of you when you at last feel his seed land on you, eyes shutting instantly. Your tongue stays out, graciously humming and accepting whatever you can catch, swallowing it proudly.

Some of his viscous substance lands on your cheeks, forehead, and even your hair. Your heart’s racing at the feeling of being splattered with cum, eyes squinting open to catch a glimpse of his post-orgasm expression.

He grunts until he gets every drop out, sighing out when he’s reached empty. As he recovers, he’s breathing heavily, eyeing your gorgeous face he made a mess out of while he regains his composure.

His fingers then come forward to collect the cum that missed your tongue to redirect it all in your mouth. You allow him to feed you his essence, sucking and licking his fingers eagerly, puppy-eyed while you stare at him, making him bite his lip with a smirk.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby. Fucking hell.” he manages to speak after his powerful release, removing his fingers and pulling you into his lap once again for a kiss.

Your naked bodies press and rest together while you kiss one another warmly. The lovely, mellow kisses leave you each relaxed, comforting one another after smutty doings.

Once you two separate lips, he kisses all over your face a couple times, making you happy to be loved like this.

Your hands smooth over his chest, noticing it blushing red after cumming.

“You okay?” Eric asks gently, snuggling you in his arms.

You nod at his chest. “I should be asking you that. You were having the time of your life, huh?” you snickered.

“Says the one who started humping the fuck out of me. Such a horny girl.” he pinched at one of your sides playfully, getting you to yelp and squirm from the ticklish feeling.

You grasped his wrist so he can instead hold your hand. Your hands clasped together, giving his own a gentle squeeze.

“Learned it from the master himself.” you mumble, getting Eric to chuckle.

“Man, we’re both nasty.” he whistles, caressing your spine with his free hand.

You laugh and leave a kiss on his chest, then squeeze yourself into him, taking advantage of the current proximity, allowing him to hold you tight.

“Wouldn’t wanna get nasty with anyone else.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[thefunkfactory]

Game Changer

It was a crisp autumn afternoon in the heart of Texas, where the Friday night lights shone down on the roaring crowd of Clearview High School. The championship game was just a few days away, and the team’s star linebacker, Brick “The Tank” Thompson, was at the center of the action. Brick wasn’t just known for his bone-crushing tackles—he was infamous for something far more sinister. His farts.

Not just any farts. Not the kind that made people wrinkle their noses in mild discomfort. No, Brick’s farts were a different breed. They were biochemical weapons disguised as bodily functions. It was said that a single whiff could cause memory loss, temporary blindness, and an intense craving for cheap gas station hot dogs.

Brick had always used his “gift” sparingly, saving it for pranks or moments when he needed his personal space in the locker room. But on this particular day, something truly bizarre was about to unfold.

At the other end of the field, stretching by the bleachers, were two new recruits: Jason and Ethan. The two had just transferred from a rival school, and while they weren’t exactly football material, Coach Stevens had insisted on giving them a shot.

Jason and Ethan were inseparable. They had been dating for two years, and while they had little interest in sports, they figured joining the team would help them fit in at their new school. But Brick? Brick wasn’t having it.

“Football ain’t for fancy boys,” he muttered under his breath, cracking his knuckles as he watched them from across the field. “It’s about grit. Strength. The art of strategic flatulence.” That’s when he got an idea.

The Plan: Deploy the Stinkbomb

After practice, Brick waited until Jason and Ethan were alone in the locker room, toweling off from a light workout. They had been trying to run passing drills earlier, but their skills were… questionable at best.

Brick stomped into the room, his cleats clicking against the tiles. He had been preparing for this moment all day, consuming a potent cocktail of protein shakes, hard-boiled eggs, and expired chili from the gas station down the street. His stomach was a bubbling cauldron of pure destruction.

He positioned himself between Jason and Ethan, stretching his arms as if he were merely loosening up after practice. Then, with the force of a hydraulic press, he let loose.

PPPPPPPPPFFFFFRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTT!!

The walls trembled. The metal lockers groaned. The overhead lights flickered as the sheer density of the fart warped the very air in the room. Jason and Ethan had no time to react before the first wave of pure, unfiltered biological warfare hit them. The fart seeped into their nostrils like an invading force, burrowing deep into their sinuses, setting fire to every neuron in its path.

Jason staggered back, clutching his face as if he’d just been maced. His mind screamed at him to run, to escape, but his legs felt like concrete. Ethan gagged violently, hands gripping his knees, his stomach lurching. “What… is that?” he choked out, his vision blurring.

It wasn’t just a smell. It was an experience. It had weight, a presence, as though the air itself had thickened and taken on a personality—an aggressive, unshowered personality that drank expired protein shakes and believed deodorant was a government conspiracy.

Jason’s heart pounded in his chest. Something was happening to his brain. Thoughts he had never had before began creeping in, whispering, clawing at the edges of his mind.

Gotta run… gotta—

Then, a second wave hit.

PPPPPPPPPPFFFFFRRRRRRRRRBBBBTTTTTTTT!!!

The sound was inhuman—somewhere between a motorbike stalling out and a bear growling into a megaphone. The air vibrated with the force of it, the sheer density of the gas causing the locker room tiles to groan under the weight of their own suffering.

Jason stumbled, his knees buckling. His head swam. His thoughts were slipping. He tried to hold on—to remember who he was.

“I… I like art,” he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper.

A new voice, deep and stupid, growled back in his head. Nah, bro. You like lifting weights.

Jason gasped, shaking his head violently. “No, I—I like poetry, and, and indie movies with good cinematography.”

The voice laughed, cruel and dumb. Indie movies? What, like game film study?

Jason clawed at his temples. The stench was everywhere. Inside him. Changing him.

Ethan wasn’t doing any better. He had slumped against the lockers, his breathing ragged, pupils dilating as his entire world shattered and reassembled itself into something stupider.

“I love musicals,” Ethan groaned, fighting through the fumes, trying to ground himself in something familiar. But the gas was relentless. It seeped into his memories, corrupting them like a virus.

He thought he remembered sitting in a theater, enjoying a Broadway show… but the image warped. The stage disappeared. The actors were replaced by sweaty, hulking football players slamming into each other at full speed. The dialogue was gone, replaced by grunts and phrases like “GIT SOME, BABY!”

“No…” Ethan whispered in horror. “No, no, no—”

Another voice—deeper, dumber, louder—echoed inside his mind. Bro, what if… instead of musicals… you just watched highlight reels of bone-crushing tackles for three hours straight?

Ethan’s hands gripped his skull. “Stop—stop talking! This isn’t me!”

The new voice sneered. Ain’t about “you” no more, bro. It’s about the team.

Jason twisted on the ground, his body drenched in sweat. “Ethan—we gotta fight it!”

Ethan gasped, his breath ragged. “I—I can’t—I’m—”

Brick stepped forward, hands on his hips, grinning as he watched them writhe in football-induced existential agony.

“You boys holdin’ up okay?” he said, flexing his biceps. “Don’t fight it, man. Just let the game in.”

Jason groaned, his fingers curling into the tiled floor. His chest ached—not in pain, but in something else. His muscles… they were expanding. Tightening. His arms, once slim, were becoming bulky, carved like they had spent years in the weight room.

“No,” he muttered weakly. “No, I—I’m not like this.”

But he was. His fingers twitched involuntarily. He wanted to clench them into fists. He needed to hit something. Ethan gritted his teeth, still resisting, still clinging to the last shards of himself. He tried to recall his love for classical music, for literature, for deep, meaningful conversations. But all he could hear was the sound of whistles blowing. Coaches yelling. Helmet-to-helmet collisions. And farts. So many farts.

BBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFTTTTTTT!!

His stomach growled. A pressure built deep inside him, something alien, something awful.

Jason’s eyes widened. “Ethan… do you feel that?”

Ethan clutched his gut, shaking his head violently. “No—no, I won’t—I won’t let it—”

His body betrayed him.

PPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFRRRRRRBBBBBTTTTTTTTT!!!

The locker room shook.

Jason’s eyes went wide as the scent hit him. “Bro… that was…”

Ethan gasped, his eyes blank and empty, his mouth hanging open. He knew what had just happened.

It had begun.

Jason felt the pressure growing inside himself too. Something dark and terrible had awoken. His stomach churned, filling with unnatural gases.

No, no, no, NO! he screamed internally.

But the new voice in his head just laughed.

Let it rip, bro.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut. “I—I can’t…”

Brick patted him on the back. “You can, bud. You just gotta let go.”

Jason took a deep breath. His stomach contracted. The pressure built.

And then—

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAOOOOOONNNNNKKKKKK!!!

The sound was unholy. The locker doors rattled. A poster of an inspirational quote fell from the wall. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm went off.

Jason gasped. He felt… free.

Ethan looked at him, his face slack-jawed, his breathing shallow. “Dude… that was sick.”

Jason grinned. “Yeah… it kinda was, huh?”

Ethan stood up, rolling his shoulders. He no longer felt weak. His arms were huge. His brain, once filled with critical thought, now throbbed with primal urges: Tackle. Sweat. Lift. Fart.

Brick clapped his hands together, beaming with pride. “Welcome to the team, boys.”

Jason and Ethan nodded. They understood now.

Football wasn’t a sport.

It was a way of life.

And so was farting.

BBBBBBRRRRRRRROOOOOOFFFFFFF!!

Jason and Ethan laughed as their stomachs gurgled, ready for more.

They were home.

The night of the big game arrived, and Clearview High had never seen a more aggressive team. Jason and Ethan were now football-obsessed, tackle-hungry machines with no thoughts beyond scoring touchdowns and delivering nuclear-grade farts upon the opposing team.

By the third quarter, the rival team had collapsed on the field, their senses overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of Clearview’s combined stench. Paramedics had to be called. Gas masks were distributed to the referees.

Coach Stevens watched from the sidelines, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know what happened to those boys,” he muttered, “but God help us all.”

As the final whistle blew and Clearview secured the championship, Brick, Jason, and Ethan stood together, arms around each other, basking in the rancid fumes of their own creation.

It was the birth of a new dynasty.

A dynasty of brotherhood, football… and farts.

[thepinkprincesss]

in which ♡ you show your boyfriend how much you appreciate all he does for you, how selfless he is when it comes to you.

a/n ፧  haii guys :3 i haven't wrote jj in awhile so here!! hope whoever reads enjoys ♡

pairings ፧  boyfriend!jj ✗ reader

warnings ፧  m!receiving, f!giving, blowjob, language, smut, ꒰⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

jj could barely care for himself. going on two-to-three days with the same worn out muscle tank that lost it's original color, and about two days without a shower. another two days without changing socks. he was used to living that way, not that he was proud or anything but he just didn’t care either. he never really minded going out smelling like smoke, he re-wore almost all the clothes he had to his name,

in his head — that was just the image that sold.

that's why, for a guy who can't even properly care for himself— cared for you like he did was surprising. he was surprisingly nurturing in his own way, it was an odd side to him that most people didn’t get to see. he’d bring you food if he knew you hadn’t eaten - even if he’d barely eaten himself, when you had bad headaches he’d be extra soft and caring, he’d always let you steal his clean shirts to wear to sleep in.

you had tried countless times to get this boy to atleast look like he’d showered in the last 2 weeks, but there was no use. he’d roll his eyes and shove you off - “i ain’t dirty mama, get off me" he’d smirk, laughing to himself.

it was a completely different story though when it came to you. you were practically the only exception to his lack of…cleanliness. always making himself presentable when you were coming over, making sure to spray a little more cologne— shave his armpits and put the cleanest or close to cleanest clothes he had, put on deodorant and actually ran fingers through his hair.

no one really knew about the sweet side of him, and he intended on keeping it that way, at least for the sake of his reputation around the island. his persona was that of a guy who only cared about getting by and getting stoned. no one would’ve been able to tell that he was actually a softie on the inside. only you and him knew the way he touched you and held you — like glass.

which is why today, your going to show him how much your appreciate it. , how much you appreciate the times he'd taken you to his home although you knew what went on there. the time he still attended midsummers face scratched up n'all for you even if he couldn't be your date. but it wasn’t as if this would be the first time you’ve reciprocated his efforts. you were always sure to be there for him, to bring him snacks or drinks or whatever you knew he needed after a long day.

you knew he didn’t expect anything in return and that he did it all because he wanted to but, you felt like today you were going to show him how much you appreciated the way he treated you — how he kept you safe and looked after you, even though you could clearly look after yourself.

with nothing left in mind to try and give him that he wouldn't reject, one thing you know he couldn't reject is getting his dick sucked. it's something that he'll push any task to the side for, for example. going to hang out with john b but just when he's leaving— his girl, so pretty and perfect gawing at his shorts. he can't reject that, never. that's your personal mission today and you keep your word to it.

when you get to the dilapidated home that you register as your man's home, his bike out front and front door open, you can already hear him inside the house, laughing and mumbling small-talk with another person— who you assume is a customer, you stay quiet and off to the side, like jj taught you when he's doing business.

he can sense you’re around, even with someone in his home. he always knows when you’re close by — something about him is just like that. his head snaps in your direction for a second, just a glimpse, before he returns his attention back to the business at hand. he knows you’re there to see him, like you always are, just waiting for him to be available. he wishes he could just pull you out and into his arms — right there infront of the guy who’s here for product.

jj's made it very clear and instructive face-to-face with you that it's not he doesn't trust you, it's he doesn't trust them. you'd think for having these guys he does business with in his circle, he'd at least trust them. but no, he’s quick to list the ways he'd harm them if anything ever were to happen to you. making it clear by a simple glare — that you’re off limits. he’s hyper protective over you, and he has a no-bullshit tolerance for anyone who wants to disrespect the boundaries he’s set. he knows they watch you when they think he’s not looking — they see you as some form of eye candy.

you feel a little flushed, cheeks red and warm. you always do when you take notice of that look in jj's eyes whenever he gets all protective over you, it's quick and short but you still take note of it, only catching sight of it every here and now. it's something wrong to feel but you can't help but at least get a tingle, or perhaps a little shiver between your legs. the way his brows furrow instinctively anytime your mentioned in any form thats inappropriate, and how his fists clench— he can't let any guy other than him see you that way. your his girl and although none of his customers are yet to try and chatty up with you, he's still on guard.

he knows how to be scary at the flick of a switch, he’s good at it. especially when it came to his pretty lil girlfriend being around. just the thought made his blood boil. he’d never be able to let it go if anything happened. he’s so on edge tonight that he barely even registers when the guy in front of him excuses himself to go to the bathroom, disappearing round the corner. he’s distracted. his eyes flickering over to you in the corner, his expression quickly softening. it almost seems like he’s missed you.

the paying customer returns back, taking to long for jj's liking— he slides the blonde a fifty during a casual dab-up trying to shield the exchange of money and weed, you notice even though their own jj's premise, they still do the same old tactics if they were exchanging in public— you’re used to this by now, the whole transaction, the way jj’s eyes dart from the guy in his home to your pretty little body all leaned against the doorframe. he’d be lying he said he never got a little thrill of being this close with you, while having a business deal go down infront of him. it was like he was rubbing it in their faces — having you in there while their business was being exchanged. ‘specially this guy, who’s definitely had a few looks that jj’s not happy about.

a couple minutes pass and the customer stills standing in front of the blonde, it ticks jj off even more and he's quick to shoo him off— rushing him out the door with a "c'mon man, get outta here."

he shuts the door hard behind himself, his gaze instantly snapping back to you. he takes the two large steps to close the gap between you both, suddenly grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him — crashing your bodies flush together and you almost let out a yelp, not expecting him to be so rough. you try to helplessly call out his name but he holds you so intensely close that you’re pressed against his chest, which is heaving with heavy breaths, the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

you can feel his tenseness through his shirt, manicured nails massaging his scalp to attempt to lessen his stress, just as your about to suggest that maybe he just needs your pretty lips on his dick— you feel him start to relax into you. the way you touched him had almost an instant effect on him. he let out a shaky and unsteady exhale, his grip suddenly less tight but still as possessive as ever. every time you touched him like this it almost put him in a trance, like you’d just drugged him. he’s been like this for a while, he needs to relax. and you’re the only thing that’ll help.

he buries his face into your shoulder, the tension in his body quickly deflating away. a small moan escapes your mouth as he presses sloppy kisses against your skin. you speak softly and slowly because your starting to understand. he thinks that your going to get whisked away by some guy, whom your not sure you've even seen other than here buying from your boyfriend. "here, this time you stop caring for me, let me care for you."

he almost wants to protest, but the way you sound so sweet and caring is too much for him to deny. he’s tired, he’s agitated and he’s just desperate to lose himself in you. “yeah? and how’re ya gonna do that, mama?” he murmurs, against your skin, voice low and strained. he suddenly lifts his head, so his face is right infront of yours, eyes heavy and lustful as he takes you in.

you let out a giggle, even in this state he still addresses you with that coy little nickname. your not sure how you even achieved it in the first place. "you'll see." you say quickly, you lead him to the couch where most of your hookups always occur, he seems to have muscle memory because he's quick to pin you down and take action, but not today.

his body covers yours, making you feel so small beneath him. it’s a sensation you love — the weight of his body against yours, all that strength and power that you know he has in him. you’re surprisingly strong, managing to shift you both so you’re on top in his place, his eyebrows raising in surprise. he doesn’t let on, but it’s something really sexy to him when you take control.

you slowly get off him, but not without accidentally giving him a little bump through his shorts as your getting off. "sit up." you instruct, already on your knees on the semi-molded wooden floor that you can put up with for now. you've ditched your pretty bow-pink kitten heels and wiped the access clear lipgloss off your lips from his sloppy kiss.

you could see the lift in his shorts, knowing he gets hard at the slight friction. he complies, he doesn’t say a word, but he does as he’s told. he props himself up against the couch behind him, legs spread to fit you right in-between them.

your dainty little hands are on his shorts in an instant, undoing his belt as quick as you'd do whenever jj picked you up some foolish little boxed figurine from some gift shop. once his shorts are down and you can physically see his dick sticking up through his boxers,

his gaze is locked on you, his eyes heavy and lustful with desire, a permanent smirk on his face tugging at his lips, "didn't know you were a freak like that." he joked, of course. at a time like this he cracked jokes.

you look up at him with your brows furrowed. "do you want to get your dick sucked or not?" you asked, straight forward and bluntly. he nods with a hence of speed that his head ought to fall off. you shake yours, giggling till his random erupt comment has you speechless— "don't get mad if my cum gets in your eye again, kay?"

a deep shade of red instantly spreads across your cheeks, his words causing the heat to pool between your thighs. you almost erased that memory from your head. “oh my god.. you’re gross” you huff, but there’s no denying the excitement in your tone.

he chuckles, the smirk he sports still plastered on his face. he’s almost never this relaxed and calm, but having himself pressed in your hands at a moment like this has him like a little puppy — he can’t help himself. he’s got yet another smart ass comment on the tip of his tongue before it gets cut off by a gasp from him, watching as your mouth lowers onto his dick. he can feel it twitch as you look up at him, making him let out a quiet whimper.

he’s trying to keep his cool, still wanting to make a comment or two while you’ve got him in your mouth. it’s hard though; you’re really good at this, he’s got to give you credit. his breathing is labored, one hand clutching the couch arm behind him while the other grabs the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair instinctively as a moan escapes his lip. you almost want to be on your knees just for him all the time. the things you do to him, all his self control is flying out the window.

at his noises and the facade he's trying to keep up but desperately failing, inspired you to work your mouth faster— swirl your tongue over his tip more than twice. you pull him from your mouth, your lips making a pop noise, the salvia and spit from your mouth connects your lips with his tip, your quick to shove his dick back into your mouth. your little hands are holding him down by his thighs from shifting around, he's all jittery and weak from you.

compliments, praises, curses under his breath. he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, at first. he’s so lost in the sensations you’re sending through him that his mouth is moving without even realising, words that you’re able to understand between his strangled moans.

“just like that, mama, you’re so goddamn good —“ he’s a mess. a sweaty, heavy breathing mess; all your doing. it’s so different from usual, when he has you all breathless and trembling beneath him — it’s all he can take to bite his lip as not to let any more embarrassing noises escape.

you feel his fingers grip a little more at your hair, his noises coming out a little louder. his moans are like music to your ears, the way his head tilts back and his thighs start to twitch at every move you take — it’s really a sight to see him like this. he’s always so confident and cocky, but he’s getting wrecked by you and he’s never really been like this. he’s just so vulnerable and sensitive, it just adds to the whole image of this guy everyone seems to be scared of.

your free hand that isn't holding him down from squirming around is fiddling with his balls— pinching and even taking a few moments to show appreciation to them as well, your mouth gives a minute rest to jj as you cup his balls into your mouth, it's a struggle but you still do so, your working to his finish line. there's spit everywhere, but your only focused on his dick. your lips are quickly back wrapped around him.

it’s just all becoming too much for him to handle, each passing second he’s getting more and more overwhelmed. the noises he’s making are completely foreign, he’s usually so composed and in control but for once he’s willing to give that up in your hands. he’s losing it, all the self control that he’s capable of is gone as he gives in. he manages to form a semblance of a sentence, his head lolled back against the couch and words strangled and strained, “gonna — baby, m'close.. gonna cum!"

you pull away from his dick, his hand still very much pulling on your hair— "c'mon jayj, it's okay, you can do it." you push out, beginning to pepper kisses all on his thighs, before wrapping your mouth around him one last time.

that little praise comment and the amount of pressure built up his release, before you knew it he was whimpering and groaning, tugging at your ends and unable to vocally speak a sentence at the pleasure, without warning— his warm cum shot up right down your throat, your sat on your ass now the abrupt unannounced cum sitting in your mouth, you look up at jj from your position not knowing what to do next. after all jj always guided you.

he’s finally able to form actual words; “shit— sorry mama. just swallow. ” his voice is strangled and breathless, but his softness to you and his tone is still very much there. his eyes are half shut, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. he’s waiting on every little move you make,. he’s a pretty sight, all slumped on the couch and wrecked. he needs a few moments before he’s himself again, but for now he’s all yours, completely at your mercy.

you follow what he said, swallowing down the warm liquid from the stimulation you caused, you wipe your mouth afterwards with your hand— still sitting and waiting for what to do next. you look like a little puppy waiting for it's owners instructions, your lips are all plumped and filled with gloss that isn't your typical gloss but it still works.

the look he sees on your face is enough to get him back to his senses, still slightly out of breathe and hazy. he opens his mouth to say something but is quickly cut off by the sight of you still sitting there, clearly waiting for instruction. it’s then that he remembers that he usually is the one to guide you into things like this. he knows you’re lost. “c’mere.” he mutters through a huff of his breath, tugging at your arm.

you lift yourself up onto the couch next to him, a little too eager to do whatever he wants you to — just like usual. he can see it in your expression, he can see that you’re waiting for his guidance. he gives you a little smile, hand brushing his thumb against your cheek. he’s still got that gleam in his eyes, the smirk still tugging at his lips. he’s still him, he’s just recovering himself from such intense pleasure.

“take a drink.” he instructs quietly, nodding towards the glass of water on the table beside the couch. he’s watching you, waiting to see you take a sip. you do as you’re told, taking a long and thorough gulp of the liquid. he’s eyeing you intently, not speaking while you drink. he’s just observing you, taking you in.

once you’ve swallowed down it down, you place the glass back on the nightstand. you feel his fingers graze his way over to your chin, lifting your head up so you’re looking up at him. you’re so vulnerable as you sit there, your big innocent looking gaze staring back at him, waiting for him to give you what to do next. he knows it, he’s well aware of how you are after this type of stuff.

he can’t help but to let out a little chuckle as he sees your expression, soft and vulnerable — wanting to be told what to do. he can’t deny that it’s a turn on for him, you being so soft and willing to do anything for him. he wants to mess with you, see how far he can go and you would do for him. “didn't wanna kiss you if you didn't drink water, would've tasted my own cum.” he chuckles, thumb dragging against your lower lip.

you roll your eyes, slapping his bare shoulder playfully before you took it upon yourself to pull up his boxers, knowing him he would've stayed with his dick out all day. "should've spit it out." you joke, shaking your head judgementally as you switch positions to be facing the opposite way, but still keeping an eye to see his reaction.

he looks offended, like he can’t believe you’d have done that to him. he lets out a scoff, but then his face breaks into a smirk and then chuckling at your joke. he shakes his head, taking notice of your new position. he pulls you by your waist until you’re sitting in front of him on his lap, leaning back into his chest. he presses a little kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder. “you know i taste pretty good.” he teases, snaking an arm around your waist.

[octuscle]

Toxic Masculinity Among College Students

Klaus had no desire to be part of this kind of talk show. They had no real scientific merit and were purely designed to attract high ratings from less educated audiences. But his dean insisted. It was necessary for funding and donations, he had said. And so Klaus now sat in a semi-circular seating area, being wired up by a technician.

The host was obviously popular—though Klaus had never heard of him. Seated next to him were a college professor, a football coach, and a young man who embodied the perfect stereotype of a dumb college jock: broad grin, tight jeans, oversized muscles that he flexed demonstratively.

The producer counted down the seconds. Everyone took their positions, the cameras rolled.

Host: Welcome to tonight’s show. Our topic: toxic masculinity among college students. Our first guest: Dr. Klaus Bergman, a renowned youth psychologist with over 30 years of experience. Dr. Bergman, thanks for being here.

Dr. Bergman: Thank you for having me. It’s an important discussion.

Host: Let’s get right to it—how would you define toxic masculinity?

The jock next to him casually scratched his head, causing his biceps to bulge and exposing his hairy armpit. Klaus frowned. Had this guy not bothered to shower beforehand? Or at least used deodorant?

Dr. Bergman: Toxic masculinity refers to rigid gender norms that pressure men to be aggressive, emotionally repressed, and dominant. Many young men in college environments feel they have to conform to these standards, which can be detrimental to their mental health.

Host: Can you give some examples?

Klaus froze. Had the jock just casually scratched his crotch on live television? A wave of disgust washed over him. And yet… there was something else. A fascination?

Dr. Bergman: Of course. We often see behaviors like hyper-competitiveness, excessive risk-taking, and the belittling of emotional expression. Many college guys—uh, I mean, a lotta dudes—feel like they gotta act tough all the time, or else they ain’t gettin’ any respect.

Host: I’m sorry, did you just say—

Klaus and the jock locked eyes for a brief moment. The jock gave him an approving nod. Somehow, gaining this alpha bro’s approval felt… good.

Dr. Bergman: Look, bro, that’s just how it is, y’know? Dudes wanna be alpha. Nobody respects a guy who cries about his feelings, right? You gotta be strong, you gotta dominate, or you’re a total loser.

Host: Dr. Bergman, are you okay? You seem to be—

Klaus removed his glasses. They suddenly felt out of place. Absentmindedly, he kneaded the bulge in his jeans.

Dr. Bergman: Bro, quit the nerd talk! It’s simple—either you’re jacked, or you’re a beta. College is all about lifting, partying, and crushin’ it with the ladies. Or the bros. But dude, no eye contact, or it gets a bit homo, ya know? Ain’t nobody got time for that “mental health” crap.

His voice deepened, his shirt tightened over suddenly swelling muscles. Then it morphed into a tank top—the same one he had worn to the gym yesterday. And the day before. And before that. But hey, who cared about that kinda stuff?

Host: Wait—weren’t you just a psychologist?!

Dr. Bergman: Psycho-what? That’s for weaklings! I gotta hit the gym, bro. Gains don’t wait. WOOOO!

He lifted his tank top, revealing an impressive eight-pack, and high-fived the jock next to him. The host stared in horror as the broadcast abruptly cut to a commercial.

Klaus and Chad were a great team on the talk show. For a German exchange student, Klaus had already acclimatized incredibly well to life on campus and in the fraternity. And anyway, who could have anything against this toxic masculinity? And what did this toxic even mean?

[froggibus]

Mario Kart - AMAB! Venture

Pairing: amab! Sloan Cameron x fem! reader (reader has a pussy + uses fem pronouns)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: frustrated at always losing to you in Mario Kart, Sloan comes up with an obstacle to give themselves a winning chance

CW: fem! reader, AMAB! Venture, mario kart 8 on wii u, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your wily), creampie, edging, teasing, some banter, multiple orgasms, kinda overstim if you squint

this is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

for everyone who liked sex rocks & requested more ven smut that i've yet to do ^.^ i swear i'll get to your requests soon

“No way, you have to be cheating.”

You roll your eyes at Sloan’s accusation. “That, or you just suck.” 

Sloan drops the wiimote on the couch and rises to their feet, stretching their arms high above their head. Despite being inside in the air conditioning, sweat glistens on their neck and drips beneath their tight tank top. 

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. You shift your gaze away from their golden, sweaty skin, and instead focus on the TV displaying your fourth consecutive Mario Kart win.

It’s a sweltering day outside, and though your original plan was to go to the beach, neither of you wanted to suffer the heat of the day and instead opted to stay in and play games. It had been Sloan’s idea to pull out their old Nintendo Wii and play Mario Kart, though judging by the annoyance on their face, you wouldn’t be surprised if they regretted it.

Sloan finishes stretching and slumps on the couch next to you. Their top rides up their stomach, showing the delicious stripe of skin between their cargo shorts and their tank. They grab their remote once more, the fresh scent of their deodorant wafting through the air.

“Fifth times a charm?” You tilt your head to the side.

“Why don’t we raise the stakes?”

“What do you propose?”

They smirk, and you’re immediately trepidatious. That specific toothy grin is never an indication of anything good—it's usually how you end up stealing from an artefact hoarder, or running from the police.

They run their hand up your thigh, the fabric of your shorts bunching up. “We need to give you an obstacle.” Their fingers trail dangerously high. “Something to impede your focus, make it a little harder for you to win. Put your skills to the test.”

Their sudden touch does nothing to sate the dryness in your mouth. You watch unblinking as their fingers get to the very top of your thigh, beginning to slide between your legs. Despite the heat, a shiver runs up your spine.

Then they pull away, shifting the fabric of their own shorts away from the growing bulge in their pants. “Or something like that,” they add sweetly.

You nearly get whiplash from how fast their tone changed from sexy seductive to classic Sloan. You take a deep breath, managing to stutter out, “w–what do you want me to do?”

They pop open the top button of their shorts, then the second, then the third. Heat courses through your veins as you watch them slowly drag their shorts down to their ankles, leaving them in just their pink heart boxers. The sweet illusion of their cute underwear is immediately shattered by the outline of their hard cock beneath them.

You swallow at the sight. “Sloan?” You ask.

They reach out and grab your Wiimote from your hand, discarding it on the couch next to them. Calloused fingers grab your wrist, guiding your palm to rub their length. You gasp in unison at the contact, at the feeling of their hard cock throbbing beneath their boxers.

They leave your hand there, dipping their own palm between your legs to cup your pussy. They’ve barely touched you but you’re already soaked. Their eyes meet yours, a mischievous glimmer telling you that they can feel how badly you want them.

Sloan’s smirk returns. “Why don’t you sit on my cock while we play? Keep it nice and warm?”

The heat pumping through you grows nearly unbearable, your panties undoubtedly ruined by their words and the soft stroke of their fingers on your clothed clit. To have them inside of you while you play is almost a guaranteed loss, but their cock is so hard and your pussy aches to have them inside of you.

You sigh, “alright. But this doesn’t go on my Mario Kart record.”

They let out a breathy laugh at your antics before pulling their fingers away from your throbbing heat. Glistening fingers meet their soft lips, their eyes lighting up at the sweet taste of your slick. 

“Fuck,” they laugh. “If I win this round, I’m eating you out as my prize.”

The air leaves your lungs at their brazen comments. You’re so used to your awkward, nerdy partner that it always leaves your head spinning when they show their dominant side. 

Sloan hooks their fingers in the waistband of their boxes and pulls them down painfully slow. Their hard cock springs free, slapping them in the tummy and smearing shiny precum across their sweaty abs. 

They wiggle closer to the centre of the couch, patting their thighs. “Hop on, cowgirl.”

A breathy giggle escapes you at their stupid antics. You rise to your feet on shaky legs. Your pussy drools into your panties, practically begging for their big cock to fill you up. 

You’re much quicker than them to discard your bottoms, letting them fall forgotten on the floor. Sloan’s gaze stays locked on you while you strip, a low moan coming from them when you reveal your shimmering cunt. 

You slowly walk backwards, bracing your hands on the meat of their thighs as you let yourself sink down onto their lap. The tip of their cock brushes your entrance and you wrap your hand around it to help guide it in. 

It’s a bit of a stretch, walking that delicate line between pain and pleasure as it sinks inside of you. Your walls struggle to take them in, your thighs quivering with the strain. Sloan grabs your hips, digging their fingertips into your skin to help you down. 

You take them inch after inch, giving yourself only a few seconds between each length of their cock to adjust. It’s nearly a minute later that you can feel the soft skin of their thighs beneath yours and the tip of their cock brushing deep inside you. 

Sloan relaxes into the couch, slouching lazily. They grab their Wiimote and reach around your waist, pressing select on the main menu screen. Your hands are shaking when you reach for your own remote, every little move you make forcing their cock deeper inside of you. 

Yeah, you’re definitely going to lose. 

Sloan’s hot breath tickles the side of your neck, but that’s the only indication that this affects them as much as it does you. Your walls flutter around their cock while you try to pick the character, the shockwaves it sends to your brain making it near impossible to make a decision.

Sloan’s wrist presses into your stomach as they move to select Link, the sudden pressure eliciting a gasp out of you. Their cock feels so much deeper with their hand pressed against your belly, forcing you to feel how big they really are.

By the time the countdown for the first race begins, your mind is nearly blank with pleasure. It takes everything you have to remember which button does what, and even that is a struggle. 

Sloan shifts behind you, sitting up straighter just as the countdown finishes. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone. Your hand leaves the remote for only a second to brace yourself, but that very second costs you the boost at the start of the race.

“Losing already?” Sloan taunts.

Your voice is unusually breathy as you say, “you wish.”

You clench down on them as much as you can, partly to throw them off, partly to ground yourself while you play. Sloan grunts and rocks their hips into yours once more, but the distraction is futile as you catch up. The third lap begins, and it really looks like you’re going to win.

Just as you round the last corner to the finish line, Sloan presses into your tummy once more, rolling their hips up into yours. The head of their cock presses into your sensitive, gummy walls, and you have no chance to catch your breath before your orgasm rolls over you. White hot pleasure radiates through your veins, your whole body convulsing as you cum around their cock.

The world around you fades away, the only sensations that stay with you are the bulge of their cock in your tummy and your thumb on the gas button. Sloan takes advantage of your situation, passing you at the last possible second to come in first.

They laugh triumphantly. “Looks like you came in second.”

You roll your teary eyes, though the pleasure of your orgasm is too intense for you to care much for their taunting. You sit up straight, trying to shift the angle of their cock inside of you away from your g-spot. 

The start of the second race goes about as well as the first, though your mind is left even fuzzier from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Sloan doesn’t taunt you as much this round, though every time you get close to passing them, they rock their hips into yours in warning. You don’t push them and begrudgingly take second place again.

Sloan pauses as soon as the second race is over, flopping back on the couch to catch their breath. They don’t know how they’ve managed to keep their cool for this long, but they know they won’t be able to last with your tight cunt clenching their cock so well.

“What’s wrong, Sloan?”  You ask innocently. “Can’t handle the heat?”

“Shut up.” They buck their hips, their cockhead hitting your cervix.

All the breath leaves your body and that’s when Sloan presses play on the next race. Somehow, you manage to get your bearings and take the lead almost immediately. Sloan curses over your shoulder—they know once you get into the groove, it’s nearly impossible to catch up to you.

You wiggle your hips away from theirs, leaning forward to see the tv better. You dig your thumb into the gas button and hope to god your headstart will be enough. Sloan tries to throw you off by grinding their cock into you once more, but it’s too late. 

Tremors sweep through your body, your fingers seem to vibrate against the sweat soaked remote. The back of your shirt sticks to your skin, doing little to relieve the fever radiating from your core. You’re panting, but each sharp inhale only forces you to clench harder on Sloan’s cock.

Their nails dig into your hip but the expected pain is a faraway melody. You pinch your temples in a poor attempt to force yourself back to reality, to force some of the buzzing out of your ears—but it doesn’t work.

Sloan thumbs gentle circles across your clit. “If you give up now, I’ll only brag a little.”

Liar. You’ll never hear the end of it if they win, but they’ll probably have a billboard made up if you concede. You can practically see the sign now: Y/n lost at Mario Kart because they couldn’t handle my fat cock.

No, that simply won’t do.

“No,” you repeat, “We’re going to tie.”

Sloan seems shocked by your determination, and by the twitch of their cock inside of you, a little turned on too. As they click on the final race and the camera begins to pan over the track, you slowly bounce on their cock. Gentle, miniscule bounces—not enough to drive forth your impending orgasm, but enough to sate your need to clamp down on them and never let go.

By the time the race starts, you’ve managed to soothe some of the graininess in your mind. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you keep your focus razor sharp. You cannot lose this race, no matter what.

You manage to take the lead right off the bat, but Sloan is hot on your tail. You can feel them clench their jaw in frustration behind you. Their face is so close to yours that the sound of their teeth grinding is near deafening. Still, you manage to ignore their chattering teeth and grinding hips and focus on the game ahead.

The second lap passes, and Sloan starts to slip. They ache to drive their cock inside of you, to bend you over this very couch and fuck the arrogance out of you. They thought this challenge would give them an advantage but they hadn’t thought of how hard it would be to concentrate with your pussy clenching down and dripping all over them.

As soon as the third lap hits, Sloan knows there’s not a chance in hell they’ll win. You’re too far ahead, and unless you stop pressing the gas entirely, your victory is assured. And then, a lightbulb.

Sloan slides forward at the same time they drive their hands into your lower tummy. They can feel all of your walls squeezing them now, their cock threatening to spill at any moment. It feels so good—but not as good as beating you will.

Sloan keeps scooching forward until they’re at the very edge of the couch and the only thing keeping you from falling is their cock and slick covered thighs. They take that as an opportunity to tighten their grip.

You cry out. “Sloan, w–what are you doing?”

They chuckle at your confusion, risking a glance at your screen. You’re starting to slip up, all you need is a little push. 

You start to round the last corner until the finish line, you’re so close you can hear the victory sound ahead. You press into the gas harder, victory is nigh, and then Sloan thrusts hard enough to send you toppling over the front of the couch.

You drop your remote to brace your hands against the floor, leaving you bent perfectly in front of them. Your pussy stays connected to their cock, giving them a deeper, fresh angle to keep pummeling into you. Sloan doesn’t slow their assault on your pussy as your hands scramble to find the remote you just dropped.

But it’s too late. You hear the telltale whistle of the finish line, and you don’t have to look to know that they’ve won. You have no time to bask in your disappointment, though. Not while Sloan is pistoning into your cunt like it’s the last time they’ll ever feel it. And with the stunt they just pulled, it might be.

They drop their remote on the couch and clench your hips tightly, using them as momentum to drive their cock forward. With you hanging off of them like this, it makes it even easier to shove their entire length inside.

Each thrust is deeper, needier, sloppier than the last. Every shift of their hips into yours sends electricity shooting through your tummy, threatening to unravel you. You curl your fingers, scratching at the floor for anything solid, anything to ground you. 

“Sloan,” you plead, though you’re not sure what you’re even asking for. “Sloan, I—”

“Fuck, I know.” They groan. Their voice is husky with need, desperation clinging to them the way it’s clung to you. “You’re so goddamn tight, So perfect to fuck my cum into.”

Their words are all it takes to send you over the edge. You convulse, each jerk of your muscles radiating warm pleasure. Your body goes limp, your face pressing against the ground, but you don’t care. You’re cumming and clenching and you’re somewhere far, far away. Somewhere where the only things in the world are your villainous, needy pussy and Sloan’s fat, hero cock.

Sloan keeps using you while you come, taking complete advantage of the hot slick spilling out of you and your tight, clenching walls. Their cock is so sensitive, so needy, they won’t last much longer—not while you’re gasping and crying out for them so pretty.

They slam their hips into yours once more, forcing their cock as deep as possible, and then they come undone. White hot ropes of cum splatter your walls, stuffing your cunt to the brim with their heat. They keep their grip around you tight, keeping you connected until they’ve spilled every last drop.

Sloan gives themself a minute to catch their breath before hoisting you back on the couch, their dick still tucked inside of you. You look up at them through tear-lined lashes and offer them a stupid, fucked out smile.

Sloan strokes your hot, sweaty cheeks and returns your smile. “I think it’s safe to say I’m the new Mario Kart champion.”

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist

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[vxtanne31]

GYM Crush

Modern AU Vi/Reader: both Vi and reader are in late 20s/ early 30s

Synopsis: you just moved to a new town and get a gym membership. Little do you know you would catch the eyes of Vi.

Warning: MEN AND MINORS DNI. F/F, switch reader,switch Vi oral(Vi and R receiving) fingering (Vi and R receiving) mentions of smoking, weed use. Mentions of breakups, parent death.

Reader is muscular, athletic, femme Dom, semi masc.

…………………..

New town, new job, new life. This is what you told yourself as you walked into the gym. You had just joined this particular gym because it was a no bs gym. You wanted a place where people were focused on lifting and not on socializing. A gym with little to few people using tripods to film their workouts.

You wore a zip up large black hooded sweatshirt with sweatpants and black converse. You were sweating already from your cardio as you went to the locker room to change for your lifting session. Your headphones were still blasting as you unzipped your hoodie and stripped off your baggy short sleeve you had on under it.

A tap on your shoulder made you jump. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You turned around in your sports bra to come face to face with a pink haired woman. You removed one of your earbuds.

“Oh shit dude I’m sorry!” The stranger exclaimed. They were sincere but you could tell they were trying to hold a laugh. “I was just asking if I could get by you. My locker is next to yours.

“Oh, oh yeah I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have my music so loud.” You closed the locker and moved out of the way for her.

“Thanks,” she gave you a dazzling smile. She was about the same height as you, maybe half an inch shorter. Her hair was shaved on the side and she had the prettiest blue eyes. Tattoos lined the back of her arms to a piece on her back. You couldn’t make out all of it since she wore a grey tank top.

‘Shit I’m staring,’ you thought.

You averted your eyes to put on more deodorant and a tight compression short sleeve. You closed your locker and put your earbud in again to go back out into the gym. You felt a pair of eyes watching you but you didn’t look her way.

Vi was indeed, watching you. Damn she thought you were attractive. She had not seen you before because she would have remembered. You were built too. Definitely spent a good deal of time in the gym. Good, that meant you would be here a lot.

………………….

A day or two later you spotted the gorgeous girl you saw in the locker room lifting with a tall, good looking man. ‘Her boyfriend?’ You thought for a second. Definitely wasn’t the vibe you were picking up from their banter in the corner, but you could be wrong. You looked away to make sure you weren’t caught staring.

You had just finished warming up and were getting ready for deadlifts. It was one of your best movements. Might as well show off.

“Jayce,” Vi whispered excitedly as he finished his bench press.

Jayce sat up and looked at Vi, “she here? Where?!”

Vi motioned her head to where you stood. “Oh her? Yeah she’s cute. Definitely your type.”

“Cute? Wait till she takes off her sweatshirt. She’s fucking jacked.”

Jayce chuckled, “you could always go say hi?” Jayce wiped some sweat off the back of his neck with a towel.

Vi shook her head. “No way in hell dude. She doesn’t want anyone talking to her. Look at her face. If looks could fucking kill… Also what if she isn’t into women?”

Jayce watch as you took off your sweatshirt and got your lifting belt out. Your arms were covered in traditional black and white tattoos, your hair in a bun. Your shirt was tight but you wore loose black sweatpants. “I am not great at clocking lesbians, but I can even tell she’s into women. Didn’t you tell me it’s an ‘energy’ that women give off? Do you feel it?”

Vi pursed her lips and studied you. You had just finished your first reps, watching your form in the mirror in front of you. When you put the bar down, you both locked eyes in the mirror. You smiled at her, making Vi blush at being caught.

“Shit she saw me!” Vi ran her fingers through her hair nervously.

“She smiled at you though. That’s a good sign!” Jayce got up from the bench so Vi could have a turn. “So what do you think? She like girls?”

Vi laughed and nodded, “yeah think so. I’ve been wrong before though. She’s definitely edgy.”

You were finishing up your last set of four deadlifts as you looked over at the girl you saw a few days ago in the locker. She was so freaking hot and toned as hell. You always had a thing for the athletic girls, preferring someone who liked fitness as much as you. You felt so thankful you chose this meathead gym.

……………….

‘This is pathetic’ you thought to yourself.

It had been at least two weeks of both of you saying ‘hello’ when you passed in the gym, the tension unbearable. You cursed yourself for not having the courage to just talk to her.

Meanwhile Jayce kept trying to talk Vi into approaching you.

You walked into the gym right after Vi and Jayce did. They were scanning their ID’s in when you opened the door. Vi froze and watched as you smiled at her, move past her to scan in and walk into the gym.

Vi’s face turned as pink as her hair as she watched you leave.

Jayce snorted in laughter. “Dude it’s getting sad now. Go talk to her.”

Vi glared at her friend and put her elbows on the counter. “Hey can you let me know the name of the girl who just scanned in?” Vi tried to make her voice as sweet as possible.

The bored looking front desk guy shook his head. “No can do, gym policy. Listen to your friend and ask her yourself.”

Jayce let out a ‘HA’ and Vi punched him on the arm. “Ow! Don’t be mad at me because you’re too chickenshit.”

Vi grumbled and walked to the locker room. Looks like she just missed you. She walked out the lifting area and saw you getting ready to bench. Jayce was right behind her.

“Go ask if she needs a spot,” Jayce whispered and gave Vi a little push on the shoulder.

Vi felt her hands clam up a bit as she started walking towards you. But as you were about to look up, Vi turned back around and walked quickly back towards Jayce.

“I-I can’t dude,” Vi stuttered but Jayce shook his head.

“Violet, stop being such little bitch.” Jayce turned his friend around and gave her a shove.

You were watching this exchange out of the corner of your eye and smirked. You pretended not to notice.

Vi sucked a big breath of air through her nose and walked over. “Hey, um do you need a spot?”

You took out your earbud and looked over at her. “Hm? Sorry didn’t catch that.”

Vi couldn’t help the color hit her cheeks at the sound your voice. “I uh- do you need a spot?” She rubbed the back of her head.

You smiled, you didn’t need a spotter since this wasn’t your max day but how could you say ‘no’ to your gym crush? “Yeah that would be nice. I’m y/n by the way.” You reach your hand out.

Vi grabs it, feeling the firmness of your shake. “Violet, call me Vi.”

“Nice to finally meet you.” Vi’s hand is large, warm and calloused. Your hands aren’t really soft either from the lifting bars you grip.

You started your sets, Vi was standing over you, her pretty face in your eye line. She was so hot but seemed so kind. You wondered how someone so good looking could be so nice.

Vi was thinking the same of you. She watched the way your abdominals flexed as you stabilized yourself on the bench, how your arms moved as you pushed the weight up, your eyes flashing up to her’s. Her heart fluttered at the proximity to you. She was thankful Jayce pushed her to do this.

After spotting you, Vi introduced you to Jayce and you greeted him warmly.

After a few moments of small talk there was an awkward silence. “Uh well, thanks for the spot. See you two around.” You turned to go finish your workout.

Jayce gave Vi a pointed look. Vi called out your name to get you to stop. You turned back around.

“Would you like to grab some food after this? There is a diner down the street.” Vi could feel her heart thunder again, waiting for your response.

“Sure that would be nice. See you soon Vi.” You waved at her and put your earbuds back in.

Jayce pat Vi on the shoulder as you walked away. “See!? Wasn’t so hard!”

Vi wanted to slap her forehead. “What if she thinks I’m straight and asking her out as a friend?”

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Sorry to say Vi, nothing straight about you.”

“What if she’s straight?” Vi rolled her eyes at Jayce.

Jayce mimicked her “listen I know I’m the hottest dude here. She didn’t even look at me. And I’m not blind, she was into you.”

Vi smiled sheepishly and walked over to the dumbbell section. “Yeah well gotta get the workout done now to make sure she’s not waiting.”

By the time she had finished, she saw you waiting at the tables by the entrance. You were on your phone, your headphones in as you bobbed your head to the music.

Vi walked in front of you as not to scare you again. “Hey ready to go?”

You took your headphones and nodded, standing up and throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “Yeah, just us? Or is your friend coming?” You watched as Vi’s cheeks turned a little pink.

Vi started to sweat, wishing she came up with an excuse for Jayce not going “I- I figured it would be just us, unless you want to-“ you cut Vi off by grabbing her hand.

“Let’s avoid all this panic. I think you’re hot and I would like to get to know you.” You stepped closer to her, in her personal space.

Vi’s shoulder’s dropped in obvious relief but straightened back up. “Think I’m hot huh?”

You scoffed, “yeah, like you don’t know you’re hot already.” You laughed nudging her shoulder with yours and walked with her outside.

The date went really well. You both learned about one another. You learned that Vi was getting her masters in kinesiology and did boxing in her free time. She learned that you were a powerlifter and did Krav Maga.

Vi was down hard. She loved how much you had in common with her. You were athletic but a total nerd when it came to movies and books. You both sat at your first date for hours until Vi said she had to get to her class.

You both planned to meet at the gym the next day. And so went a routine of working out together and flirting over texts.

“Dude just ask her to go back to your place after? It’s been like three weeks of both of you working out together. It’s cute but come on!” Jayce sat on their couch as he rolled a cig for them. “Why haven’t you met on the weekends?”

Vi ran her hand through her hair as she paced in their living room. They had been rooming together for the past year. “I’ve been busy teaching kickboxing for extra money dude, you know that. Grad school doesn’t pay for itself.”

Jayce finished rolling and lit it, taking a deep inhale. “Just invite her to kickboxing. Teach her a few things… then when everyone leaves you both can roll around the mat and scissor or whatever you lesbians do.”

Vi stopped pacing and gave him a pointed look, she bent over and snatched the rolled cigarette. “Asshole,” she took a drag and then coughed. “Fuck I am so bad at smoking.” Tears pricked her eyes.

Jayce laughed and took it back from Vi. “Yup.”

……….

Vi did invite you to boxing though which you said yes to right away over text. You were so excited to see her outside of the gym. You had been thinking about her almost everyday. Watching her lift could have been foreplay for you. It was so hot how she easily lifted heavy weights, the cut of her tank showing off her chiseled arms.

Vi was dying to kiss you. She loved how hard you worked in the gym, how thick your thighs were. She would stare at your ass while you squatted over twice your weight. The tension was palpable, the adrenaline of the gym combined with the unspoken desire was driving Vi crazy.

You arrived to the boxing gym on Saturday morning, earlier than Vi asked you to. You watched as she trained a group of kids, teaching them how to punch. She didn’t notice your arrival as you sat with the parents and blended in. Vi was so cute with the kids, encouraging them punch harder on the bag.

Vi looked at her watch. She asked you to come at 10:30AM after her last class. It was 10:15AM, you could be there any minute. Vi’s sky blue eyes searched the room and saw you sitting with the parents talking sweetly to a mom. She knew those last fifteen minutes would drag.

You watched as the last few minutes of the class rolled by, talking to one of the mothers about how much her kid loved Vi. “My kid is excited to come here every weekend,” she boasted. “Vi is so sweet with them.”

You nodded and spoke with the mother on how you knew Vi and what a great person she was. You then heard the words you were waiting to hear.

“Okay kids, same time next week!” Vi’s voice rang out as the kids dispersed.

You got up from your chair and walked over to Vi as the kids walked to their parents. She was wearing a short sleeve compression shirt with her hands wrapped all the way up to her elbows.

Vi’s face lit up when she saw you walked over. “Hey there gorgeous,” she beamed and looked over your shoulder, waiting for the last of the kids and parents walk out the door.

It was your turn to blush at Vi calling you gorgeous. “Hey there, was just talking to one of the moms and she was telling me how much her kid loves you.”

Vi smiled warmly and nodded, half paying attention as she watched the last parent and child walked out.

Once you two were the only ones left, the tension thickened, both of you closing the space in between one another. Vi looked down at your lips and then back to your eyes. “Fuck it,” Vi whispered and pulled you in by the back of the neck, lips colliding with yours.

You responded instantly, fingers threading through Vi’s cropped pink hair. The kiss was electric, the weeks of buildup reaching a peak. You pressed your body against Vi, your chest brushing against her’s.

Vi swiped her tongue over your bottom lip, the kiss becoming heavy. She moved a hand between you, her fingers slipping underneath your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your side.

Your hands tugged Vi’s hair, earning you a moan against your lips. You broke the kiss to come up for air, a trail of saliva connected your mouths. Vi’s eyes were dilated, her lids low as she gazed back at your mouth.

Vi wasn’t ready to come back to reality. She captured your lips once more, gripping the back of your thigh and moving you down to the mat. Vi held her weight above you, a knee slipping in between your legs.

You were lost in the moment, the feel of Vi’s soft lips making your head spin. You gripped her slim hips and pulled her down on top of you, your body easily taking her weight. Vi rolled her hips into you, her thigh pressed against your core. You slipped your knee up higher to provide Vi with the same friction.

Vi moaned against your mouth, her pussy aching to be touched. She was soaked, she felt the slickness as she rubbed herself against your thigh. Then, her mind started to spiral. Was this too soon? Did you want this?

Vi broke the kiss, both of you out of breath. “Should we slow down? Shit I don’t know what got over me-“

You cut Vi off with a reassuring kiss,

Your hands roaming her back and up to her ribs. You figured you’d be honest, after all it was obvious that Vi wanted you as much as you wanted her. You leaned to her ear to tell her what you wanted to for a while. “I want to taste you Vi,” you whispered hotly, placing a kiss to her jaw.

That is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, Vi thought, your admission making her clit pulse. “Fuck baby, we need to get out of here,” she sat up on her knees. “My place isn’t far from here?”

You sat up and nodded your eyes tracing over Vi’s body. “Lead the way.” You sat up with her and helped her lock up before you followed her out.

Vi wasn’t lying, her apartment was a few blocks away. She had her fingers threaded with yours as she pulled you along. You didn’t realize how big her hands were until she grabbed yours. I want those fingers inside me.

Vi walked as quickly as she could, the walk feeling like an eternity. She got to the building and pulled you into the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, you pushed Vi against the elevator wall and kissed her, hands moving under her shirt to touch her toned stomach. “Fuck Vi I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you.” You moved your lips to her neck, attacking the sensitive flesh.

Vi’s knees almost buckled from the assault, her body thrumming with excitement.. it was sexy how you just took what you wanted, not shy at all. “Yeah? I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The elevator got to her floor, both of you almost missing the stop. Vi grabbed your wrist and led you down the hall to her apartment. She swiped the key fob and pulled you into the apartment. You were both instantly hit with the smell of weed and the sound of the TV.

“Oh hey you two, ‘bout time.” Jayce sat relaxed on the couch with three of his guy friends playing video games.

Vi wanted to strangle Jayce. “Thought you were hanging out at Victor’s house today?”

“Eh, he was busy, we were thinking about getting food if you guys wanna join?” Jayce smirked, knowing full well what he was interrupting.

“Jayce, get the fuck out,” Vi gritted and pointed towards the door.

Jayce and his friends looked at each other, exchanging knowing glances. You should have been embarrassed but you couldn’t help but snort a laugh at the awkward silence.

“Should I stay at Jack’s house tonight?” Jayce was trying to hide his smile, his lack of hurry obviously pissing Vi off more.

“I will literally pay you to leave right now,” Vi glared.

“Really, how much?”

“Jayce I fucking swear-“

“Okay okayyyy, jeez Vi you really do need to get laid.” Jayce got up from the couch along with his two friends. He walked into his room and got a bag with some extra clothes and a toothbrush. He was about to leave but turned, “hey just wipe down any surface you fuck on after you’re done.”

Jayce’s friends laughed as they all left and shut the door behind them. Both you and Vi looked at each other, cracking a smile.

“Hey I gotta take a quick shower if that’s okay?” Vi took your hand and pulled you towards her. “I’m gross from boxing this morning and teaching the kiddos. You can hangout in my room?”

You nod and lean in to give her a sweet kiss. “That sounds good to me.”

Vi smiled against your lips. “Hope you didn’t have plans for the rest of the day.”

You shake your head. “Nope, all yours.”

Vi’s heart fluttered and she gave you another kiss, leading you into her room. There was a punching bag hung on the wall. It was kinda messy but not terrible. She needed to fold a shit ton of clothes though. “Go relax on the bed muffin.”

“Muffin?” You laughed and sat on the bed, a pile of clean clothes on top.

Vi took the pile of clothes and put it with the other pile. She then handed you the remote to the TV. “I have all the subscriptions, go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” she have you a peck on your lips and grabbed a towel to head to the shower.

You kicked off your converse and sat back on the bed. You felt so relieved that you showered and shaved your entire body before this. You weren’t expecting anything but you wanted to feel sexy before seeing the woman you’d been pining over for months.

You rested back on the pillows, smelling her body spray. Her scent stirred something within you. There was such a magnetic pull she had, like an attraction that was so intense it made your head spin. Vi was also so incredibly kind and loving especially for how she grew up.

Vi told you about her parents dying when she and her sister were young. She told you about how they were adopted by their parent’s friend and grew up in a rough part of town. You knew that you barely scratched the surface of her trauma.

You shook your head of those thoughts for now, knowing Vi wouldn’t want to see you brooding over her at a moment like this. It would have to be questions for later.

Vi was taking the quickest shower of her life, scrubbing her body and washing her hair. She was imagining you sprawled out on her bed, patiently waiting for her to come out. She was nervous as hell though, you were the first girl in a while who made her feel this way. She hadn’t felt this way since her ex Caitlyn.

Caitlyn was from an upper class family, they both attended the same university for undergrad and had dated throughout college to two years after they graduated. Caitlyn dumped Vi for a rich girl Maddie, leaving Vi heartbroken for years. She had tried dating throughout her 20’s but never really found someone who compared.

Now reaching 30, she finally found someone who she seemed to really like. Vi was determined to not fuck it up. She turned off the shower and got out, drying off and preparing herself to see you.

You put on a random movie, trying your best to look calm when Vi walked in. You didn’t want to look like you were counting the seconds till she got back. The sound of the water turning off caused your body to tense, the anticipation of seeing her almost unbearable.

Took a deep breath and leaned over, gripping the sink, a towel wrapped around her waist. Fuck. She forgot a change of clothes. Vi had a choice, to awkwardly scramble to Jayce’s room and pick something out, or just walk into her room like this.

She said she wanted me didn’t she? Vi reassured herself, running her fingers through her damp pink hair. Fuck it.

You heard the bathroom door open, the sound of bare feet padding over to Vi’s room. The doorknob turned and in walked a half naked Vi. Your eyes widened, gazing at her exposed chest. Her breasts were pretty, the nipples a light pink. Your eyes trailed down to her abdomen, lightly freckled to the towel hung low at her hips.

“Have a nice shower?” Was all you could come up with, your face turning red.

Vi smirked, drinking in your reaction to her partially nude body. She turned around to get some deodorant, giving you a full view of her giant tattoo back piece.

“Yeah, all clean,” Vi turned to see you move to sit on the edge of the bed closest to her. Her nerves instantly came back as you reached out and hooked a finger at the white towel around her slim waist, pulling her to stand between your legs.

Vi smelled fresh, her skin was warm from the hot water, her hair was wet and hanging over the side of her face. Her body was impressive, you admired the work she put in to look like that.

Vi was used to being the one in control during sex. Hell, most of the women she was with preferred that. Since Vi was more masc, it was the role she felt like she had to play. But you, you made her feel like she was the one about the be ravaged.

You sensed the shift in Vi and took advantage of it. You stared up into her powder blue eyes and pulled the towel from her waist, letting it fall swiftly to the floor.

Vi stood there frozen, watching your eyes drift over her body. She let you drink her in, refusing to shift under your gaze.

You reached out and trailed a hand from her neck, down to a breast, finger lightly tracing over her nipple. You heard Vi’s breath grow heavier and heavier, watching your hand’s movements. You continued, tracing down her chiseled abdomen, muscles flexing as you made your way down to her sex. She was neatly trimmed with a stripe of pink hair to match her head.

“You’re fucking beautiful Violet,” you whispered as you took your thumb and gently circled it over her clit.

Vi gasped and bowed her body forward at your touch. You took the opportunity to kiss her soft lips, dragging her to straddle your waist. Vi complied and cupped your face, kissing you deeply and arching into your hand.

You continues to circle her clit with your thumb, Vi rocking into your touch. She moved her fingers to your hair to tug.

Vi could feel herself getting wetter by the second, her hips moving to your gentle rubs on her clit. “You’re killing me,” Vi gasped against your mouth.

You fell back onto the bed, taking Vi with you, lips still locked. You pulled at the back of Vi’s thighs signaling her to move her body up. “Then let me taste you. I’ll make you feel even better.”

I’m gonna cum in five seconds if she keeps talking to me like that. Vi’s mouth hung open, eyes hooded as she moved up to straddle your face. Vi saw you reach for a pillow and helped you, placing it under your head.

��Just relax and enjoy the ride…muffin.” You gripped Vi’s hips and raised your head to take a long lick through her wet folds, your eyes closed as you drank her in. She tasted wonderful, clean and a bit like her lavender soap.

“Ha ha- ah,” Vi’s snarky remark was cut short by the feel of your tongue. Vi licked her bottom lip and looked down at you, wet hair falling into her face. She reached down and ran her fingers through your hair. “Go ahead, eat me up baby.”

You moved slowly, dipping your tongue into Vi’s center, then moving up to suck on her clit. The moment you sucked on her clit, she bucked into your face, her pink strip of hair tickling your nose. You moved a hand up to grip her chest, teasing a nipple in between your fingers.

“Ah- fucking hell muffin!” Vi rolled her hips in time with your tongue. She gripped your hair tighter, holding you still to ride your face. The feel of your nose bumping her clit was driving her closer to the edge.

You opened one eye to look up at Vi. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. Guess your nickname was ‘muffin’ now. Coming from Vi it was cute though.

You flattened your tongue so Vi could use your face to get off. Vi braced her hand on the wall next to her bed, the other still tugging your hair.

“Suck my clit again! Please-please ah!” Vi rambled as you complied with her wishes. “F-fuck you feel so f-f-fucking amazing ah! Shit I’m so close baby.”

Vi calling you ‘baby’ made your heart skip a beat. You grasped Vi’s firm ass with both hands and held her in place, sucking her clit.

Vi didn’t have time to warn you. Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her clit pulsing hard in your mouth. She cried out, her voice ringing through the apartment. No wonder she asked Jayce to leave.

Vi released your hair to grasp both hands on the wall, blunt nails scraping against the drywall as she let out a string of curses. After a minute, Vi had to raise herself from your mouth, her clit overstimulated from the intense orgasm.

Vi moved off of your face and collapsed next to you, both hands dragging over her face. “Holy shit that was fucking good.”

You turned to look at Vi’s pretty face, your own covered in her wetness. You wish you could have held her to your face to make her cum for a second time. You gave Vi the space though, waiting until she was ready again.

Vi turned to looked at you, meeting your face, still wet from her orgasm and hair disheveled. It was fucking hot. She reached out and wiped your chin, gripping your face to bring your lips to her’s. The taste of herself on your lips drove her mad. Vi pulled your body to her own, nipples brushing the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” Her hands gripped your chin.

“Then take them off Violet,” you countered, moving down and nipping the pad of her thumb.

Vi groaned at the sound of her full name and attacked your lips with her mouth, her tongue demanding entrance. She unzipped your hoodie, moving it off your body. You helped her remove your clothes, taking off your shirt and sports bra. Vi’s eyes glued at the sight of your small breasts, silver barbells pierced each nipple.

“These are hot,” Vi mused as she brought her tongue to your nipple, the metal barbell clanging against the back of her teeth. You forgot how to breathe as Vi locked eyes with yours, her mouth attacking your breast. She pulled at your sweatpants, her fingers undoing the drawstring.

Vi stood up and pulled your sweatpants and underwear off in one swift motion. Her eyes darkened as she roamed them down to your exposed pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty.” She dropped to her knees, her eyes not leaving your core and grabbed your thighs, hauling you to the edge of the bed. Vi put your thick thighs over her shoulders and placed a kiss to the inside of one of them.

Your breath hitched as Vi nipped at your skin, trailing down to her destination. You were soaked after tasting Vi’s pussy and making her cum. Her taste still lingered on your tongue.

Light blue eyes flashed up to meet yours as she flattened her tongue against you, warm and firm against your clit. You arched your body, crying out in pleasure. Your hand threaded through her pink locks, tugging as Vi gripped your muscular thighs to hold you in place.

Vi was in heaven, her tongue pushed into your entrance then moved to suck your clit. She kept her eyes glued to your face, watching yours as you licked your lips and squeezed your eyes shut. Two long fingers moved down to insert themselves into your pussy, the intrusion making you gasp. You were tight. Vi pumped and curled them in time with her tongue, bringing you closer to the edge. Her other hand moved up and gripped your breast, playing with the pierced nipple between her fingers.

“Ah Vi right there! I’m so close!” Your fingers tightened on her cropped hair, the shaven side grazing and tickling your inner thigh.

Vi sped up, the noise from her licking and pumping fingers seemed to drive you closer to the edge. Vi could feel her own arousal drip down her thigh, your taste and moans making her own pussy throb with need once again.

Your orgasm crashed through you as you called out her name, your thighs grip Vi’s head as she continued to suck your clit, riding you through the orgasm.

Vi moaned as you came against her mouth, your taste driving her mad, her hips rutted against the edge of the bed to seek friction.

After you came down from your orgasm, you had to push Vi off your clit. “Ah shit Vi give me a second,” you panted.

Vi lifted her head slowly, a pussy drunk expression on her face. She whined and tried to pull your legs open again. “But you taste so good.”

You laughed and sat up, Vi still kneeling by the bed. You stared at her strong, naked frame, licking your lips as your eyes trailed down to her sex. You saw how she needed another release.

“Let me take care of that for you.”

“Oh I intend you to,” Vi whispered hotly.

Vi urged you back onto the bed, crawling up to hover her body over yours. You pulled her close, her body now flushed against yours. Vi rutted her hips, your thigh in between her legs. She couldn’t handle the throbbing of her neglected clit any longer.

You could feel Vi grind against you, your thigh now soaked. You moved too hand down and grasped her ass, encouraging her to continue. “You wanna cum on my thigh?”

Vi buried her face in your neck and whined, her hips rutting, clit throbbing against your leg. “You- ah! feel so fucking good.”

Somehow this wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to watch her cum. “Do you have a vibrator Violet?”

Vi froze and sat up to look down at you. “Uh yeah it’s in my drawer. Why?”

“I want to use it on you. Is that cool?” You moved her hair from her face.

More than fucking cool. Vi answered you with a nod and leaned over to her nightstand, pulling out her purple vibrator.

“Oh I have the same one!” You took the toy from her. “Lie back beautiful.”

Vi scooted back onto her pillows, sitting up slightly. You moved next to her by the pillow and whispered hotly in her ear. “Open your legs for me. Let me see you.”

Vi bit her bottom lip, her face already flushed from your words. She opened her legs, her knees bent.

You hummed and turned the vibrator on low, moving to kiss Vi’s neck as you trailed the vibrator to her nipple. Vi jumped slightly, the back of her head hitting the headboard with a ‘thunk.’

“You’re so pretty like this,” you whispered against her neck.

You licked and kissed the tattoo at her neck. You moved the vibrator down Vi’s abdomen, her muscles twitching as you trailed further down to her mound. You hesitated for a moment, but didn’t make Vi wait too long as you brushed the vibrator over her clit.

“F-fuuuck,” Vi’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, body jumping at the sudden sensation. Her knees connected for a second but you used your other hand to force them back apart. You removed the vibrator.

You clicked your tongue, “none of that. Keep those legs apart Violet or I’ll take it away.”

Vi whined and complied, her hand moving to grip the meat of your inner thigh. “Please no, I won’t do it again.”

You smiled against Vi’s neck and moved the vibrator over her clit once more. It was on low, making Vi arch into it hard, craving more. You complied but only turned it up one level. You were transfixed, removing your lips from her neck to watch Vi’s pretty pussy thrust against the vibrator. You looked up to meet Vi’s fucked out expression, eyelids heavy, mouth open, cheeks red, eyes glued to your lips. You kissed her roughly, her mouth slack from pleasure.

Vi moaned against your lips but broke the kiss, a trail of spit connecting you both “Please, I-I need your fingers.”

You gave Vi a lazy smile, stealing one more kiss and moving to settle in between her legs. You turned the vibrator up another level and stared at her as you inserted your forefinger and middle finger into your mouth, sucking on them.

Vi’s head was dizzy with pleasure. Your naked body on full display, the way you kept eye contact, the attention on her clit. It was all too much. She watched as your fingers made the way down to her center.

“Oh fuck fuck, fuck!” Vi moaned as your fingers slid into her. You curled them against the spongy tissue and pumped them slowly, turning the vibrator to the third highest setting.

“Tell me when you’re going to cum pretty girl,” you breathed out, turned on by the display before you.

Vi bowed her head, breathing becoming heavier and heavier as she tipped closer and closer to the edge. “I’m so close, please!”

“What do you want Violet?” You kept the same pace, your head tilted in a teasing manner.

She moved down and grabbed your hand with the fingers inside her. “f-faster, fuck me faster!”

You complied and picked up your pace, watching Vi’s face as her eyes were tightly shut, her mouth hung open. She looked fucking gorgeous as you pushed her to the brink. The sounds coming from her wet pussy was obscene, your fingers soaked . Vi bucked hard against the vibrator. You reached up and kissed the tattoo on her cheek. “Cum on my fingers pretty girl.”

“I’m cumming -oh fuck!” Vi’s walls tightened around your fingers, contracting as she rode out her high.

Vi was vocal, her head thrown back, muscled abdomen tensed and legs shaking.

You pressed soft kisses to the inside of her thighs as you gazed up at the most gorgeous girl you ever laid eyes on. As she came back down, she twitched away from the vibrator. You removed the device and turned it off, placing a firm kiss to her pussy before lying next to her on the bed.

Vi scooted down so she could pull you into her embrace. She kissed the top of your head as you rested your head on her chest.

“Holy fuck that was, yeah, that was the best sex I’ve had in a loooong time.”

You kissed her peck, running your fingers over her belly. “Was gonna say the same thing.”

Vi turned her head down to look at you “yeah? Thank Janna for that.”

After a couple of minutes you both decided to get under the covers. Both you and Vi talked for a long while, about your lives, your family etc. Vi would always be touching you, whether your hand or waist or her leg over your thigh. She would occasionally interrupt your talking with a peck on the lips.

Before long it was dark outside. You both had finished another round of sex and were sweating from the exertion. Vi was resting in between your thighs, her head against your stomach.

“Do you want to wash up with me?” Vi asked hopefully.

“Don’t you want me out of your hair? It’s getting pretty late.”

Vi sat up on her elbows. “I -no! I was actually wondering if you wanted to spend the night. I mean you don’t have to- if you have other plans I get it…” Vi’s voice drifted off, her eyes never met yours.

You ran your fingers through her pink hair, pushing the thick locks from her face. “I’d love to spend the night.”

Vi’s powder blue eyes finally found yours. She gave you the most genuine joyous smile. “I like you… a lot.”

“I like you a lot too.”

………………

Please please PLEASE let me know if you liked it!

[occamstfs]

Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home. 

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with  him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew: 

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it. 

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass! 

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.  

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

[devonpink]

A Thanksgiving Story

Arrogant, ignorant, and stupid, no three words could better describe my dad. I didn't always see him like that, though. Growing up, we were best buds—I admired and looked up to him as a role model. I truly felt like I could tell him anything, I could trust him. So, you could imagine my shock when after coming out as gay to him, he turned on me. He ignited into a homophobic rage, disowning me as his son. He couldn't stand the sight of me. The unpleasant feeling was mutual and I moved out as quickly as possible.

For almost a decade, there was nothing but radio silence between us. Until one day, I randomly got an email from him, inviting me to a one-on-one Thanksgiving. I read it over and over, completely stunned. As mad and hurt as I still felt, I knew I'd regret not accepting his olive branch. So, I accepted.

A few days later, in the early afternoon of Thanksgiving, I drove over to my dad's place, my childhood home. As nervous as I was, driving up the old driveway and parking in my old spot felt good. As I stepped out of my car, I was reminded of how sweltering it was for November, even for Florida. As much as dressing up sounded fun, wearing a white tank top, dark tan loose shorts, and flip-flops only made sense. My balls would have melted in a pair of underwear, so I freeballed.

My heart was racing, as I flip-flopped to the front door. I was expecting the worst but hoping for the best. I could smell the turkey cooking through the front door as I knocked, its mouth-watering scent calming me slightly. A few seconds later, my dad opened the door. Unsurprisingly, he was exactly as I had left him: bulky beyond belief, obviously my leaving had no effect on his serious workout routine. Then again, maybe he exercised to escape the pain, I know I did that. He was wearing nearly the same thing, the only difference being his loose shorts were black. His pit stains were just as bad as mine—like father, like son, I guess. To my relief, his nervous expression pleasantly told me he was just as anxious as I was.

Stepping inside, I got a good whiff of him as I passed him, that oh-so-familiar scent of cologne failing to mask the intense pit reek. The house, like my father's manly stench, was exactly how I'd remembered it, nothing had changed—it was nice. As my dad led me to the kitchen, with his back to me, I gave my hairy sweaty pits a sniff. They reeked, even worse than my dad's. Unlike him, I'd forgotten to put on deodorant or cologne. We both stunk, in slightly different ways, but that similarity was comforting—like father, like son.

I was expecting things to be insanely awkward, but it was like the good old days. We sat out on the porch, drinking beer and shooting the shit as we waited for the turkey to finish cooking on the barbecue. I forgot how much I loved talking with him, for an arrogant douch bag, he sure could make me laugh. Neither of us had brought up my leaving yet, I assume to not break the good flow we had going. In truth, I didn't want to bring it up. It felt good to pretend everything was as it was in the old days.

When the turkey was done, we brought it inside and gobbled it down like too starving beasts. Obviously, our nerves had calmed down quite a bit. Everything was fantastic, I forgot how good of a cook my dad is. We didn't say much to each other while eating, too distracted by our hunger to converse—like father, like son. Before we dove into dessert, he offered me another beer. As much as the pumpkin pie was calling my name, I couldn't decline.

Instead of the usual beer we were drinking, he brought a brand I'd never seen before, "Obedience." I didn't question why he only brought out a single can, I was too distracted by the pumpkin pie to care. I cracked it open and swigged it down, anxious to get to the pie. However, after I finished, I felt funny. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I felt different. I silently stared at my dad, watching an evil grin form across his face.

My dad spoke, dropping his nice-guy demeanor. "Now listen up, boy. It's time we finally get to the point of our happy reunion." My heart was racing, I knew something terrible was about to happen. Flashbacks of before I left flooded my mind. Strangely, as much as I wanted to move, I couldn't. My body was frozen like it was waiting for something. "Take another swig of your beer, down every last drop." What happened next shocked me to my core, my body moved on its own! It was like I was a bystander in my own body, only able to watch. I robotically brought the can up to my mouth and downed every last drop, doing exactly what he commanded. At that moment, I horrifily knew exactly why it was called, "Obedience," and why he only brought out a single can of it.

"Belch, boy. Like a man." My dad arrogantly commanded, knowing I'd helplessly comply.

"bbbbbbBBBBUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppppp!!!" Just as he commanded, the biggest manliest belch came out of me. I hated how good it felt to obey him, an obvious effect of the beer.

"Belch again, boy. Except this time, additionally, let out all that stress and worry. Also, uncross your legs and manspread! Sit like a man!" He commanded.

I wanted to resist but was helpless to his commands. "bbbbBBBBBBBuuuUUUUUUrrrPPPPPPPPPpppppp!!!" Like he commanded, all stress and worry had left my body. I then uncrossed my legs and manspreaded, just like my dad. Sitting that way felt so much better.

My dad laughed, like a cocky bastard. "Such a good and obedient son I have." I wanted to get up, scream, anything but just sit there. Except I couldn't move. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't move. "Now, let's get to the good stuff," My dad excitedly proclaimed, unnerving me even more. "Let out all the useless liberalism! Become a rigid conservative, just like dear old dad! Like father, like son! Belch, boy!"

I tried as hard as I could to keep it down, but it was useless. "BBBBBBUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppp!!!! With that, all liberalism and open-mindedness had left me. My mind was assaulted and reprogrammed to believe all sorts of small-minded conservative ideas and beliefs. It was overwhelming, yet electrifying. With conservatism comes stupidity, so my mind had become completely moldable, exactly what he wanted.

"Real men vote red, don't they, boy?" My dad asked, every word dripping with superiority.

"Sir, yes, Sir! Real men Vote-BBBBBBBbbbuuurrrrPPPPPPPPpppp!!!" Before I could finish, another manly burp escaped from me, making my dad bust out laughing. I couldn't help but laugh too, being more stupider now. It felt good to make my dad laugh. I felt like… a good son.

"Now, before we continue, I want to make sure you have no remaining resistance. So, let it all out! Give yourself to me completely! Belch, boy!" My dad commanded.

"BbbbbuuuuuuuUUUUUURRRRPPPPppppppp!" I did as he commanded, like a good son. It felt good, right, to obey him. Why would I want to resist him? He's my dad! He made me, I must obey him!

My dad was grinning like a king, as he should. "Belch again, boy! Belch as loud as you can!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" I was more than happy to obey.

"Fuck yeah, son! You sound just like your old man!" My dad enthusiastically congratulated me.

Having him praise me felt good, so fucking good. More, I wanted so much more!

My dad then got serious, obviously, this next one would be important. "Belch, boy, and erase all gayness from yourself. Become the straight man I've always wanted you to be! No man wants a faggot for a son! Blech, boy! Belch and become straight!!!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" Like a good son, I obeyed. "BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" And just like that, all my gayness was gone. I'm now as straight as a freshly bought nail. I like women, only women, like a normal man. Who'd want to be fag, anyway? Fags are sick freaks!! Thank god I'm not one of them anymore. Thank god I'm straight, just like my dad! Like father, like son!

We celebrated my much-needed transformation over two massive slices of pumpkin pie. Afterward, we returned to the porch and smoked cigars, some of his finest. I feel so much better now that I'm following in my dad's footsteps. I want to be exactly like him, in every single way. I want to be completely interchangeable with him. He gave me a matching pair of sunglasses and a red cap, to protect me from the blistering sun. I obviously wore my cap backward to match him. I'm so thankful for my dad. Without him, I'd be lost.

[byuntrash101]

dirty laundry & wet dreams

reader x perv!han smut | mdni 2.4k jisung has a big fat crush on you and the only way he can cope with his feeings is to jack off to the thought of you with the clothes he's stolen nsfw tags under the cut

perv!jisung, roommates AU, somnophilia (that means non con), bodywhorship (f), panty snifffer!han, scent kink, jisung is just obssesed with you tbh, jisung takes pictures of you while you sleep, getting caught kink, groping, masturbation (m), oral (f), squirting, cum eating

a/n: i have been thinking about this for a long a time. thank you everyone that voted for han i think the perv thing suits him he just extra pervy and we love to see it <3 also dont mind me being obsessed with his hair (im fine) (no im not)

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN’T ENJOY.

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Jisung sighed in frustration again. Still nothing! He’s been salvaging your laundry basket for this past week and there’s nothing he’s interested in. 

He settled for your dirty gym tank top and stuffed it in his pocket before leaving the shared bathroom and heading to his room.

You see, Jisung has had a silly little crush on you for a year now and that’s the only way he knows that helps him cope. That way he can act normal to you during the day, doing standard roommate stuff, like sharing a meal or watching anime together on your tiny laptop screen set on the coffee table in your student flat.

That way he can do all these without catching his eyes plunging into your cleavage showing every time you bent down a little to scoop food into your mouth. Or he can keep his hands to himself when you're sitting so close to him in the small couch, when your beautiful thighs are pressed to his own and he feels this rush through his body, grabbing a cushion to hide away the growing problem in his groin. His thumb lightly brushing over it under the cushion as he laughs at the show and comments casually on it with you. As if it’s nothing. 

Because he knows at night he’ll swipe your PJ's and press them to his face as if he was ready to absorb them through his nostrils. Snort your scent like a drug and let it take him to ecstasy, his mind traveling to a place where you are his, where he can smell and taste you. where he can feel your heated lips on his, where he can hear your blazing skin clashing against his, where he can feel how tight you are, how wet you are just for him, trembling, shaking, moaning for him.

But tonight it doesn't work. He took the sport top off his face out of frustration. He stayed there immobile laid on his bed as the heavy and hot  summer air engulfed itself through his cracked window. 

The smell doesn't do it for him… Of course it’s nice, it smells like you! But it also smelled like perfume and deodorant… that he didn’t like he liked your true smell, like nature intended it! To him you didn't need these artifices, your most natural self was perfect.

That’s why he would always steal your PJ’s because usually you hop in the shower at night then hop into your night clothes and spend the night in them, beautifully infusing them with your divine scent and refined flavour and Jisung would steal them in the morning to soil them at night. That was his perfect routine. He doesn't know why you’re keeping your dirty PJ’s in your room now, not putting them in the basket every morning like you used to. 

But tonight he decides it’s too much, it’s been weeks he hasn’t been able to take a good whiff of your scent and he decides he’s just going to get the clothes directly from your bedroom. Before he has the chance to chicken out he slips on his shorts back and heads to your room.

He almost levitates in the hall. He feels a light warm breeze on his bare chest as he tiptoes to your room. 

Thankfully your door is pressed shut not locked he doesn't even have to push on the creaking handle just lightly push in the door. But his heart stops when he spots you.

You are sound asleep, the city lights seeping from your open window, the light summer wind gently blowing on your heated and soft skin. Your breath quietly whistles as the air slither in and out of your lips between your teeth. Your hair beautifully spilled onto the pillow. You are absolutely breathtaking and also completely nude.

Jisung hears his heart beat in his ears, the accelerated blood flow drilling in his eardrums, making his chest heave up and down silently, sucking in one shaky breath after the other.

He only wanted to swipe a top and maybe a pair of panties from you he never ever even dared to hope to find you like this. Spread on your bed in all your glory. Never has he had the privilege to have such a view so he admired your body for long seconds, without a care for the discarded PJ’s next to your bed. Those were the last things on Jisung’s mind right now. 

He was only obsessed with you, with the way you breathed so calmly, with the way the light breeze made your perfect nipples harden, with the way your heavenly face seemed so peaceful, so tranquil with both your arms resting beside it as you laid on your back, your breast lightly spilling to your sides. Your beautiful legs extended in front of you. You looked fabricated, too perfect to be earthly. A piece of art, a masterpiece, a perfection only achievable by God themselves. 

Jisung swallowed thickly as he velvet traded to your bedside, entranced by your form. His eyes trailed down from your neck to your breasts to your stomach and even lower. What he wouldn’t give for you to spread your legs. Just a little so he could have a small peak at the object of his every thought. The secret and mysterious wonder he has been only able to imagine for this past year. If only you could just move, just a little bit.

Squeeeeek

One of the boards of the wooden floor creaked as Jisung stepped on it. He froze in his tracks, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows knitting on his forehead. He stayed completely still and held his breath, his eyes instantly snapping back to your face. And he prayed, he prayed so piously in silence that you wouldn’t wake up to see him hunched over you like a creep.

And his prayers were answered. You didn’t wake up, instead you just lightly squirmed and parted your thighs.

Jisung’s jaw dropped to the floor as his eyes fell lower on your frame again, only this time it was right on your center. The brunette couldn’t believe his eyes he couldn’t process. You were absolutely beautiful. Every inch of you, from head to toe, was perfection and he couldn’t help but to stare you down right between the legs. 

But the uncomfortable feeling of his shorts restricting his hard on brought him back. There was no way he could just swipe the PJ’s now and go back. He couldn’t do it, whatever it was that he was trying to do in his room and failing miserably he had to do right here, right now. Why would he go back and imagine you when he could simply look at you?

With a shaky breath and trembling hands he whipped his painfully hard cock out. He didn’t even bother tugging down the shorts, only passing the member through one of the legs of the shorts. 

He grabbed his dick at the base firmly and slowly pulled his closed fist up to his tip, pressing the precum out of the slit.

Fuckkkk

He wanted to say this outloud but he possibly couldn’t. He couldn't risk waking you up.

A large bead of precum rolled out of his slit and down his shaft which he caught between his fingers, picking up the pace.

He wanted to go slower; he wanted to take his time looking at you and milking himself for you. But he couldn’t. He was too riled up, looking at you peacefully sleeping, unsuspecting of what he was doing right over you. The adrenaline pumped through his veins as his fist did around his hard cock. 

Jisung accelerated again, eyebrows meeting on his forehead as he felt himself inching closer to his release, he let out a barely audible grunt and immediately his eyes snapped up to your face which was still tranquil. He didn’t stop jacking himself off, soon the slick noises of his precum coated dick erupted but he couldn’t stop and you were so profoundly asleep that you seem like you didn’t notice the agitation around you.

Jisung felt himself twitch in his hand; he was so close. So close for you. 

Y/n, I’m cumming for you

Jisung screamed in his mind only moments before he crossed the edge, his upper body shuddering from ecstasy as he tensed his thighs, big spurts of thick white cum squirting from his pulsing and throbbing cock as he let his jaw hang loose. Thick ropes of hot cum crashing all over your stomach, thighs and even between your parted legs lazily dripping over your folds.

He was so entranced by your nude body layed and spreaded out for him to see that he didn’t think about the mess he would create if he let himself go right here but it was too late now and the mess was done. 

He fished out his phone from the pocket of his shorts. If he was already deep in it he might as well take a souvenir. He checked approximately two hundred times that his phone was on mute and that he didn’t have the flash on before snapping a few pictures of this breathtaking scene. Your body as his canvas and his warm cum as the art. 

Jisung started to panic when you started to squirm again, stuffing the phone back in his pocket, he looked over the room in a hurry maybe hoping to find a rag of sorts but there was nothing and he just stood there with his lip between his teeth once again praying that he didn't wake you. But fortunately you settled down again.

So that's when he had the craziest but possibly most brilliant idea he’s ever had. The only way to thoroughly leave your room without leaving clues was to eat his own cum off you. 

He thought about it for a second. If he used one of your clothes hanging on your chair, you would certainly notice the white stains later when you were going to do your laundry. If he took back the piece of clothing and washed it himself you would also notice your shirt disappear and magically reappear clean and folded…

So with this reasoning he kneeled on the floor at the edge of the bed and stuck his tongue out, inching closer to your stomach. He laid his tongue flat and swiped it across your burning skin, he scooped the thick and sticky cum right into his mouth. The strong bitter and salty taste took over his tastebuds. He then went down to clean his mess on your thighs and finally to your center.

He swiped his tongue across your folds. Much to his surprise -and contentment- he tasted something else blending with his own taste. 

You.

He looked back for a second to notice the slight glimmering of your slick barely peaking between your folds. Jisung couldn't hold back from bringing his nose to your center, taking a big whiff of you. 

So that’s what sex with you would smell like. He carefully licked again. That's how it would taste like. Both of your flavours and scents beautifully mixing to result in this intoxicating cocktail that was making Jisung’s head spin.

The addicting flavour spread through his mind like wildfire setting his soul ablaze. He licked again, this time a little less gentle and right on your clit.

And he froze when you let out a barely audible, very quiet little moan. Jisung felt his skin crawl back onto his flesh, the hairs of his forearms standing. He looked at you again, you were still sound asleep.

Was it possible that somehow you were feeling him between your thighs while you were still dreaming. Jisung didn’t know. The only thing that was certain to him was that he needed more of you. He licked again and he was rewarded by another moan followed by the brief mention of a word. A word he heard a thousand times hanging from your sweet lips. A word so mundanely banal. His name.

His name slipped out of your pretty mouth to crash onto him, hitting him right in the chest. His name said so perfectly.

“Jisung…aaah” you moaned softly, almost whimpering.

He froze again and carefully peeled his eyes off your center to look at your face. But you appeared to be still sleeping. So it meant you were dreaming of him. Your body felt good and your mind chose him to explain this feeling. 

He couldn’t take it anymore he started to swirl his tongue around your clit. Everything was just too much. Your divine nude form layed on the bed, your smell, your taste and now your voice moaning his name.

Jisung didn't want this to ever stop. He started to move his tongue rapidly around your now swollen little bundle of nerves as he jerked off his cock again with both his hands. Rutting inside his fists like a street dog in heat as he feasted on your taste, lapping at your entrance and plunging his tongue inside of you to swipe his tongue back up to your swollen clit, sucking around the erected nub until you were breathless, pearls of sweat rolling on your forehead. 

Jisung felt you throb on his tongue and suddenly your body tenses up, your head thrown back and you squirted all over his open and welcoming mouth. He relished on your cum, swallowing your release in big gulps as he made himself cum again with you, careful to only spill his seed in his hand this time around. Mind numbing euphoria coursing through his body from his lower stomach. He gently guided you through your orgasm, softly lapping at your throbbing clit until your body went limp.

***

Jisung started eating breakfast before you this morning. He couldn't help but smirk when you emerged from the hall with small groggy eyes.

“Hey sleepy head!” he greeted you with this signature adorable smile, his fluffy cheeks rising like bread dough. You responded by a sleepy groan.

“Actually I think I dreamt of you” You frowned trying to recall the blurry memories of the dream…

Jisung’s wholesome smile turned into a sly smirk as he attempted to hide it in his cereal bowl.

“Oh really?”

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a/n: sooo how was it????? did you like it??? my first han fic and it broke me tbh. like im sucker for perv han i just love him okay? this blog is the official perv han lover support group <3

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