#four hundred twenty four pounds

[onryou-onryou]

Marianne Nowottny - André The Giant

[morrsbugged]

Is it still considered vandalism if you’re hungry?

The world's largest Cheeto. Cheadle Alberta, Canada

[reincrimination]

race against the clock

criminal minds | aaron hotchner x reader

content warnings: canon-typical violence, guns, death (unsub), panic attack, kidnapping, mild injury.

collection: whumptober 2024, day 1: race against the clock/search party/panic attack.

“Drop the weapon!” Morgan yelled. Hotch looked at Morgan, and then to where Morgan was looking. The rest of the police force did the same, and suddenly, twenty guns were all drawn on him- the man who had you. He had a gun, too, but he wasn’t aiming it. He held it in his left hand, which Hotch- and you- had known was his dominant one, by the characteristics of the stab wounds that he had left on his victims. Stab wounds that he might’ve- Hotch’s breath hitches- left on you. “Where is she?” Hotch yells. Another agent had been talking, maybe Morgan, but he didn’t give a shit right now. “What have you done with her?”

Aaron Hotchner knows how to keep his cool. Probably better than anyone on the team. In fact, he was the one to remind everyone to do just that before they breached the doors on this unsub’s decrepit cabin.

The woods were dark and eerie, as they always are on these types of days. It was some hour past midnight, Hotch couldn’t recall- all the numbers had started to blur together. The only time he had in his head was twelve hours, twelve hours since you’d gone missing. Taken right out of the parking lot of the precinct.

At least there hadn’t been much question about who had taken you. Finding the unsub’s cabin had been easy once Garcia had been given a name. Hotch only hoped recovering you would be that easy, and that you’d be unharmed.

“FBI! Open the door!” a man fully decked out in black SWAT gear and significantly more firepower than Hotch yelled, pounding on the front door.

The slats of the porch creaked under their feet, the paint flaking off the railings and the door-frame. The light shining through the smudged windows was the only clue this place was even inhabited.

There wasn’t even a car in the driveway.

The battering ram took the rotting door clear off of its hinges. The SWAT team fans out inside, searching room after room. Hotch hears them yelling “clear” as they proceed through the house. He waited with baited breath. If it were up to him he’d have been inside with them, but they knew this guy had lots of firepower at his disposal, so it was SWAT’s job to clear the house. Which, they had. Finding no one inside. Not even you.

Hotch felt the small balloon of hope inside him pop; the wind had been knocked out of him without so much as a physical punch. The SWAT team filed back out of the house. There was no unsub, and there was no sign of you.

A loud bang pierced the quiet night air.

The entire assembly of police and FBI agents all whirled around, guns drawn without a second thought. No one knew where to point them, though. The dark forest pressed in on all four sides of the cabin, the dirt road driveway even consumed by darkness after a few hundred feet.

“Drop the weapon!” Morgan yelled. Hotch looked at Morgan, and then to where Morgan was looking. The rest of the police force did the same, and suddenly, twenty guns were all drawn on him- the man who had you. He was half-hidden by the shadows cast by the tall pine trees, the moonlight unable to illuminate anything this far down from the forest canopy.

He had a gun, too, but he wasn’t aiming it. He held it in his left hand, which Hotch- and you- had known was his dominant one, by the characteristics of the stab wounds that he had left on his victims.

Stab wounds that he might’ve- Hotch’s breath hitches- left on you.

“Where is she?” Hotch yells. Another agent had been talking, maybe Morgan, but he didn’t give a shit right then. “What have you done with her?”

The unsub smirked, his grubby little brows furrowing, beady eyes narrowing, as he stared at Hotch.

“Answer me!” Hotch screamed. His voice broke on the last word.

“Take it easy, man,” Morgan said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Let the others talk to him. Take a breath.”

Taking a breath seemed like an objectively good idea, but Hotch found, he could not. His chest felt tight, like a rope was being pulled taut around him. His vision had begun to swim, the only thing he was focused in on was that disgusting, abhorrent man who had- who had-.

“Hotch,” Morgan repeated. He holstered his gun and took Hotch’s from him. “Come here. Don’t let him see you like this. That’s what he wants.”

“I need…” Hotch gasped. His hands were tingling, his fingers cramping. He tried to make fists with his hands as he followed Morgan back and around the back of an SUV, hidden from the unsub’s line of sight, but his hands weren’t cooperating. “I need to get her back, Morgan.”

What was happening to him? He had never felt like this before. He wouldn’t even be able to fire a gun like this, not with his hands cramping. How was he supposed to do anything?

“Is- are they talking to him?” Hotch peeked around the side of the SUV. He saw Spencer, his hands out placatingly, trying to talk to the unsub. He trusted Spencer, he trusted all of his team, but he needed to be out there. What if the unsub said something that they all missed. That only Hotch could put together. What if he said that he had killed you? Stabbed you, like all the others, or worse? “I need to- Morgan, give me my gun.”

“Hotch, relax,” Morgan tapped his shoulders again, trying to draw his attention back. “Focus on me. Breathe, slowly. You’re hyperventilating. You’re panicking, man. You’re no help to her like this.”

“Morgan, she’s not just- fuck- she’s not just an agent, she’s- we’re-,” Hotch stammered.

“I know, Hotch. We all know. And we’re going to find her.”

Hotch felt his hands relaxing, his chest loosening, his composure returning, like clouds parting after a storm. Leaving a clear sky. He needed to focus on finding you, and he couldn’t do that if he was panicking. He held his breath and counted to seven and then exhaled and did it again, until his hands were steady and his vision was clear.

“I told you,” Hotch heard the unsub groan to Spencer, “I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk to Hotch. To Aaron.”

Morgan handed him his gun back and they left the shelter of the SUV. The unsub was still talking with Spencer, but had clearly noticed Hotch’s absence. The unsub’s gaze had flicked to track Hotch as he strode to the front of the crescent of officers. He kept his gun at his side- enough officers had their guns trained on the unsub anyways- in an attempt to be non-threatening.

“I’m Aaron,” Hotch said. He stepped forward, closer to the unsub. Hotch scanned his clothes, hands, arms, boots, everything, for any trace of blood, or dirt, or any clue as to where you were hidden. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I think you know what I want to talk about,” the unsub huffed a laugh. “You were all she wanted to talk about.”

Wanted? In the past tense?

Hotch felt the panic rising again. He took a deep breath. He could do this, he could stay focused for you. He had to, if he ever wanted to see you- alive, or otherwise, again. He had to pretend this was no different than any other case, that you were just another victim. That was the only way for him to avoid panicking- something he had never known he needed to avoid doing, before. Before you. Before he cared about someone as much as he cared about you, before you were put in danger.

“What else did you talk about?” Hotch asked. He needed information, any small hint at where the man had hidden you.

“Plenty.” The unsub shifted his weight from foot to foot, his left hand flexed around the hilt of his handgun. “We talked about how I couldn’t wait to shoot you. How that would be more painful to her than any physical would I could inflict. She begged me not to. Have you ever heard her beg before?”

The unsub began to raise his left arm up, gun in hand, but before it passed his waistline, a hail of bullets rained down on him. His body hit the ground before Hotch could even blink.

“NO!” Hotch shouted. He holstered his own gun, and kicked the unsub’s gun away from his side. He sank to his knees, suit pants sinking into the damp mud and pine needles. Hotch knotted his fists in the man’s shirt, and shook him, hard. “Where is she?”

“Hotch,” Emily murmured, somehow kneeling beside him now.

“Hotch, he’s gone.”

“Tell me where she is, you bastard!” Hotch’s voice had begun to go raw from screaming. He shook him one more time. Then he noticed: the dark, round hole in the center of his forehead.

Hotch released his grip on the unsub’s body and stumbled to his feet.

His knees were wet from the mud, and maybe from the blood that had undoubtedly already pooled out around the body from the various gunshot wounds.

Now we have nothing, he thought, pushing past the crowd of officers. He glanced at the empty driveway. Not even a car.

Not even a car.

Hotch whipped around.

“Follow the tire tracks!” he ordered, breaking into a run. “He has to have used the car to move her. Wherever it is, she is.”

He pulled out his flashlight and shone it on the dirt driveway. The earth was wet and covered in pine needles, making it difficult to analyze what he found. Two divots on each side of the path denoted the place the tires must’ve usually rested when the car was parked. They extended down the path through the forest, down a few miles to the main road. There wasn’t much room between the trees for the car to have pulled off, but he must’ve found somewhere, because if he had taken you to the main road, the officers at the roadblocks there would have seen him.

Hotch broke into a run, shining his flashlight ahead of him, looking for the slightest disturbance in the forest floor. He heard footsteps and clamor behind him as the rest of the cops and his agents spread out into a search party. He knew they could get scent dogs out in a few hours, but your scent would be hard to track, if not impossible, especially if he was right and the unsub had moved you using a car. Searching on foot was Hotch’s only hope to find you soon.

He had said that they had talked about shooting him- how it would be more painful for you than anything he could possibly have done to her.

Implying that you had to have been alive when the unsub shot Hotch- or had tried to.

The relief and hope that flooded Hotch at that realization almost distracted him enough to miss what he had finally found- a tire track, veering off between two trees that the car had probably barely fit between. Hotch shone the beam of the flashlight on the trunks and noticed the bark had been scraped off, and chips of white paint were left in the gouges. You had to be somewhere close, if the unsub had walked on foot from where he had hidden you.

Hotch began yelling your name, and then, all the other officers started, too. They moved forward like in a grid search, looking behind every tree, kicking through the leaf cover for anything left behind. “I found the car!” Morgan yelled. Then, the words that Hotch had been waiting to hear for the last twelve- now more like thirteen- hours: “I got her! She’s alive!”

Hotch ran towards the sound. The officers had already clustered around a small wooden structure, a hunting blind. A few meters behind it was the unsub’s parked car. The area quickly became illuminated in bright white lights as all the cops present shone their flashlights on you.

Hotch watched as Morgan began to help you up. Your hands were zip-tied tightly behind your back; Hotch could see dried blood around your wrists where they had cut into your skin. A pair of zip ties hung off of your ankles- Morgan must have just cut them off. He used his pocket knife to slash the ones holding your wrists together, too. Your hair was disheveled and full of leaves and debris, like you had been dragged along the floor, and a huge gash and bump to your right temple, like you’d been pistol whipped, glowed in the bright light of the flashlights.

“Where is he?” you sobbed, clinging onto Morgan’s arms as he helped you out of the blind. “Is he dead?”

“He’s dead, sweetheart,” Morgan tried to soothe you and pull you in for a hug, but you pushed him away, more strongly than you should’ve been able to after being tied up for so long.

“No!” you wailed. “How could you let this happen?”

Confusion flashed on Morgan’s face, and through Hotch’s mind.

Then, he realized. The unsub had known that he would die when he faced the police, but he knew that his final act would be to psychologically torture you, leaving you to wonder if one of the gunshots you had heard had been him shooting Hotch, like he had promised you he’d do as his final act.

Morgan had misunderstood your question. He had just told you that Hotch was dead.

Hotch finally closed the distance between the two of you. He grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. A broken sob wrenched its way out of your throat, tear tracks already cutting through the layer of dirt and dried blood on your face.

“Aaron,” you croaked. “Oh, thank God.”

“I’m here,” Aaron murmured beside your ear, so softly no one else could hear. It was just you and him now, in your own world. The secrecy of your relationship be damned, he would deal with the consequences later. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You broke down sobbing into his arms, all the fight flooding out of you as soon as you realized that Hotch was alive. The dehydration, the hunger, the fear, and the pain in your head all rushed back in. Hotch’s arms tightened around you, the only thing holding you up anymore. His face was smushed into your dirty hair, the blood on your wrists was staining his shirt and tie, but neither of you noticed, nor would you have cared if you had.

“I knew you- I knew you’d find me,” you gasped, fisting his shirt in your trembling fingers. You stared up at him, into his beautiful glossy brown eyes, committing every inch of his face to memory. You had thought you’d never see him again, never hear his voice again, never feel his touch again. “When I heard the shots, I thought- oh, my God- I thought you were-.”

“Shh,” Aaron soothed. He wrapped a hand around the back of your head, near the base of your skull, and guided your face into the crook of his neck. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, a wet, raw sound. “I know.”

“I thought he…” you mumbled into his neck, the words dying on your parched lips, or before that, in your sore throat. “Aaron.”

“I’ve got you, honey,” he murmured back, cradling your head so softly in his big hands. “You’re safe now.”

[vervainandspritz]

UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: smut, angst, comfort

A/N: I'll get back to writing more chapters soon. For now, have this oneshot. Please Interact and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

“Oh god, Jackson!” Y/n gasped as soon as she saw him through the peephole in the door. Moving as quickly as possible, she swung the door open, pouncing forward to get a hold of him.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and rugged. White button up shirt ripped on his shoulder, revealing the bleeding wound. The material surrounding it was covered in crimson red. His hair sweaty, beads dripping down his face as he barely kept his blue, cloudy eyes open.

“Y/n” he mumbled, taking a heavy step forward as he grabbed onto her shoulders. She huffed as he put his weight on her, and with some struggle they managed to both get inside as she kicked the door shut.

Hundreds and thousands of thoughts ran through her head as she helped him to the living room where he mindlessly slumped on the couch.

“Wait here” she murmured, rushing to the bathroom for the first aid kit that was quite… advanced ever since she met him. Grabbing the necessities, Y/n quickly moved back to the living room, putting it all on the table with her shaky hands. He looked barely conscious and her heart was pounding like crazy as she took his shirt off to make sure that the visible injuries were the only ones on him.

He kept mumbling something every now and then but she didn't listen, instead she focused on stopping the bleeding from his shoulder and stitching him back up.

Breathing deeply, Y/n tried her best to get her hands more steady as she did her very best to ensure he'd be… better than whatever state she found him in.

Two hours and some tears later, Jackson was settled in her own bed, wearing only briefs and breathing heavily. She wiped her face while glancing at the clock only then realising how late it was. Jackson was completely out of it, and from the look of it, he would be for several more hours because of the medicine she gave him. The medicine he needed to ensure his wound wouldn't get infected.

Y/n was aware of his job, and it was one of the biggest factors of why she decided to never let their relationship move forward. Just sex, they said before. She couldn't afford getting her heart broken.

His lips said one thing, and his actions showed another, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she hugged his back lightly, her cheek pressing to his hot skin. Only for now, it was safe to do so. He was unconscious, so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. The closeness with lack of any sexual intentions. Intimacy. Comfort.

As expected, Jackson slept for a long time before eventually waking up, a little past 7 PM the next day.

She managed to clean up her bathroom and couch from his blood, getting her apartment to become squeaky clean because of the anxiety she was feeling. Y/n tried to be productive instead of impatiently waiting at him and biting her nails.

“Y/n” He said in a hoarse, husky voice before grimacing slightly because of the dryness and pain in his throat. Hearing him, she jumped a little, clearly startled as her book fell on the floor with a thud.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” Y/n said, with a hand on her chest as she eyed him quickly before getting up to get a glass of water for him, hearing the state of his throat. “How are you feeling?” She asked quietly after handing him the glass. Her brows slightly furrowed at his unusually pale skin.

“As wonderful as I look” He replied with a scoff after drinking the water and setting the glass aside with a groan.

“You were really hurt this time.” She started quietly, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment as she kept looking at him. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty four hours, Jackson. You—you need to tell me what happened.” She says eventually, crossing her arms over her chest as her frustration grew. She knew how unhappy he was whenever she'd ask questions, and Y/n liked his presence too much to risk losing him over that. So she wouldn't ask, not usually, but this time was different. It was too big to pretend like it didn't happen.

His pale, blue eyes avoided looking directly into hers as he let out a deep breath. His frame was tense.

“Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I do for a living, sweetheart.” He replied. “It's not always all rainbows and flowers.” The sarcasm smoothly made its way down his tongue, as always, seemed like. Y/n got used to the fact Jackson was fluent in this particular thing.

Hearing his tone her body tensed in a combative manner. Squeezing her first, she pointed at him with the other, shaking hand.

“Don't you fucking dare talk to me this way after I spent my whole night stitching you up, preventing you from bleeding out, and barely closing my eyes to make sure you were bloody alive!” Her voice shook slightly every now and then as she tried to stand her ground against him. “It's YOUR work to do… all that, but is it my work to always stitch you up afterwards? Why the hell do you come here since I don't deserve even a brief explanation?” She demanded to know, looking intently at him as she wrapped her arms around herself for some, much needed at the moment, comfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly, raising his chin as he finally looked her in the eyes. His facial expression was impossible to read, as always.

But the one thing she was perfect at, was reading his eyes. Ever since day one, Jackson would always try to avoid eye contact in such situations. Even though his stare never failed before, and he was going through life thinking he mastered it.

Well, maybe he did. Y/n was the only one who saw more in his bright, storm and tempest filled eyes. So he'd purposely put a wall between the two of them. She knew him too well to believe in the theatrics he was so prone to use on people.

“Your apartment was the closest place I could think of at the moment. It's not that deep.” His voice was low and emotionless, husky from the lack of usage in the last twenty four hours but he managed to keep up the eye contact for just a few seconds before looking away.

Yet, it hurt her. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and made her way to the kitchen as Jackson slowly got up from her bed.

Looking around for his pants, he ran a hand through his hair with a groan. The one thing he could admit to himself was that seeing disappointment in her eyes wasn't… nice. It didn't feel good.

“So… when can I see you now?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension after a couple minutes, thinking that she just gave up asking him questions like always, after he'd shut her down.

The silence hung in the air for a longer moment, charged with unsaid words and buzzing emotions. Y/n was tired, visibly and mentally.

“Don't come here anymore, Jack. I can't do it.”

A quiet voice came from the kitchen, making his heart stop for a moment and his eyes to widen. Turning around he walked up to her, leaning on the counter.

“Come on, you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, not understanding the vulnerable expressions on her face, which she never hid. Y/n wasn't scared to be vulnerable with her feelings around him, which was always a source of conflicted emotions within himself.

With a resigned sigh, she put the knife and veggies down, looking up at him.

“No, it's… it's more than that. I just can't do what you're expecting of me.” She started, shaking her head a little. “Just—just fuck you, and then, then take care of you and never care enough to ask. I can't do that. It's—it's not me, I'm sorry.” The way her body language changed, the vulnerability and raw hurt in her voice made the annoyingly painful feeling gnaw at this one spot in his chest. He didn't know what to say for a moment before turning around and walking a couple steps through her living room. Anger and confusion grew in his head, as the only real emotions he knew so well. Hand tugging on his hair as he let out a humourless laugh.

“You don't mean it. We're just—just arguing again.” He said, trying to convince either her or himself, but the feeling of dread already settled between his ribs. His voice came out louder than intended, accusing even.

As the response didn't come, he turned around again facing her. Taking a couple fast steps he winced at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? We talked about it before, I— fucking can't tell you anything!” He said with sharp anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Jackson, I said I get it! I just can't do what you want me to!” She exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than usually at his sudden outburst. She felt panicked with what was happening. With the idea of never seeing him again, and with what she was feeling at the moment. The feelings accompanying her were much more complex than she'd like them to be.

“Then why are you so fucking dramatic about it!” He continued pacing back and forth, not handling the situation very well, or picking up on the irony of his words.

Y/n raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

“Me? I'm just breaking it off, Jackson. You are the one yelling at me and running around my living room.” She pointed out, keeping the pain hidden away. For now.

He stopped in his tracks immediately as she called him out on the frantic behaviour.

“I wouldn't if you weren't like… this!” He spat out, his blue eyes filled with coldness and anger. The sudden motion as he swung his arm, caused the stitches to rip and blood started dripping down his arm. “Fuck!”

Y/n’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jack, calm down! Your arm!” She squealed, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Her hand grasped his bigger one as she pulled him to the bathroom, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It was a fairly small room, with not much space after he'd fill it out with his wide frame, so without a second thought she slumped on his lap.

He sat here wordlessly, the combative facial expression still decorating his handsome face as she worked on the wound, cleansing it before getting to the stitching.

He didn't make a sound until the last stitch, when he suddenly let out a loud hiss at the particularly painful movement of the needle in his skin.

“Sorry” she said quietly out of habit. “You need to stop thrashing like a wild animal for the next few days.” Y/n added, concerned with his state.

Jackson scoffed, tensing as he looked in her eyes accusingly.

“Don't tell me what to do. You dumped me.” His voice was low and grumbly, still carrying some anger in it, but the way he put it made Y/n let out a giggle uncontrollably. His gaze softened slightly. He sounded like an offended child.

“As far as I know, we weren't together, Jackson.” Her voice was more playful than anything as she finished the stitching, putting the tools aside. Caressing the skin on his arm, Y/n sighed.

Jackson kept looking at her with a lump forming in his throat. After a minute he broke the silence.

“I don't know what you want me to say, but you won’t hear…” He started before clearing his throat, unsure of what words to use. Of how to explain.”—hear THAT from me, Y/n. I just can't.” He said quietly, his hands holding her hips, thumbs rubbing little circles on her soft skin. The silence settled in the air again, as she felt he wasn't finished just yet. Just needed some more time to recollect his words. “...but I don't want to not see you anymore.” He sounded weaker than ever, more… vulnerable. The trait she wanted to see in him so badly, making her heart soften in an instant.

Feeling the surge of hope rushing through her veins, she raised her hands to his face, tilting his head up so her eyes would meet his. Her eyes were– bright again, Jackson noticed subconsciously.

“You don't want to lose me.” She stated with confidence, knowing what he meant. Jackson neither denied nor confirmed, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it.” She demanded, caressing his skin and as soon as he looked again, searching his blue eyes for anything that would show her she was wrong. She didn't find anything.

He took a deep breath, his fingers digging into her skin harder.

“I don't want to lose you.” He repeated, sounding like the words almost drowned him, but he knew it was a turning point. Jack knew she was – patient and understanding. It would be enough. They stared at each other for a longer moment before she touched his cheek with a little chuckle.

Seeing her eyes so shiny and cheeks blushed, Jackson regretted he didn't say it sooner. It took a lot, but it was worth it. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“What's so funny?” He scoffed playfully, looking at her lips with a deep breath.

Y/n leaned in, kissing him in a way that took his breath away for a mere moment making him forget who they were. Who he was. A way that she wouldn't dare to kiss him before.

“Stubborn man” she let out with a sigh after pulling away.

Only then did she get up, pulling him back to the bedroom deciding that she'd force him to rest if he wouldn't agree right away.

***

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/n wiped her face with a yawn before she noticed he was awake. The admirably blue eyes looked at her halfway open with a smirk, and for a second she got mad at him for never staying the whole night before. The view was wonderful.

“Hi” She said with a chuckle, making him raise his eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi,” He replied, pulling her closer. Her dishevelled state made her even more attractive than usual, in a completely different way. It was a way that Jackson never looked at other women before which was a little scary, but well. He was way too sleepy to think about it now. With his own eyes barely open and vulnerable as never before, he let out a chuckle. It felt so easy at the moment, like he wasn't a killer without any actual identity. Like he had a chance for a life with the beautiful woman by his side.

Stretching with a groan he shifted to the side, being fairly careful with his injured shoulder. Jackson's hand landed on Y/n’s bare hip as her shirt shifted up, revealing her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, glancing at him as she heard the throaty purr coming from his mouth.

“Jackson” She warned with a giggle, knowing his intentions too well. “You're–” She started, but before she'd manage to finish, he flipped her on her back, hanging over her like a thundercloud. “–injured.” Her voice was defeated with an undertone of humour at his mischievous doings.

“Still healthy enough.” He replied, leaning down and grazing his nose over her neck. After two years of seeing only her, he wasn't able to prevent associating her scent with something– familiar.

Home

Pressed so tightly against her, Jackson felt the familiar stirring in his lower stomach, making him sigh deeply. His warm breath wrapped itself around her skin, making her shiver with delight. He leaned down, biting onto her neck lightly as his hands began stripping her of the pajama pants she was wearing.

She let it happen, until she didn't. Her smaller hand getting a hold of his wrist.

“In my way.” She said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “My way or not at all. Your stitches will probably burst again if I agree to do it the usual way.” She said with a voice that allowed no opposition. That was a voice he rarely heard, but the feisty look in her eyes was clear. She wouldn't bend under his will because she cared about his health.

With a loud, dramatic sigh he slumped on the bed, giving up. Seeing it, Y/n chuckled, raising her brows. Pointing at the tent in his underwear, she asked.

“So you need help with that or not?” Her voice was full of amusement and clear lighthearted mockery. Jackson's eyes immediately shifted to her face.

“Don't push it before I change my mind” he grumbled with a hidden smirk, making her laugh out louder as she got up, pulling her underwear down all the way before she straddled his hips.

Her soft hand began travelling down his chest, tracing every inch of his skin, appreciating the masculine firmness to him. The sensation of his muscles against her delicate fingers.

The air in the room immediately shifted, and Jackson's expression changed. His brows slightly furrowed, as he watched her actions. He was clearly confused, never touched with such intention before in his life. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, almost expecting pain to come any second now.

Violence was all he knew. She understood it, but it nevertheless broke her heart a little bit.

Looking him in the eyes, she leaned forward, her lips following the path her fingers travelled. She left little kisses on each scar and imperfection she encountered.

Jackson wasn't sure what he felt. Whether he liked it or not, he was more confused than ever before. That's why when she reached the V on his lower stomach, still kissing, he rose up slightly.

“Don't” he said quietly. The atmosphere was so intimate and vulnerable, that for once in his life, he didn't feel up to being pleasured in such a way. He already let her do too much, Jackson thought.

Y/n looked up, meeting his bright eyes with her own. The tension and– fear on his face was visible for the first time since she ever met him.

Nodding lightly, she came back up, kissing him passionately as her hands worked on his underwear, pulling it down and stroking his hard length. Deep groans pushed past his lips with each move as his eyes fell shut. He looked more beautiful than ever, Y/n thought seeing him then.

Only the sensation of her warmth engulfing his manhood brought Jackson back, making him open his eyes and letting his jaw fall open.

“Fuck” he gasped, as she leaned back, supporting herself by holding onto his stomach, not forgetting about his injury.

His hands gripped onto her hips. Still sitting up, Jackson tried moving her on top of his hips to get her to move faster, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. Pushing him back, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss while she sensually moved. She was in no rush. Y/n enjoyed every sensation the connection between them was giving her. The slow pace was making him more sensitive to their surroundings than the usual frantic rhythm. The sound of her quiet sighs and whimpers filled his ears like the most beautiful melody. The way her face gave away the all-consuming bliss she experienced from how he felt inside her, but also from how… close they were. Jackson felt like he was slipping. The situation was getting out of control as his mind started spiralling into the vulnerability, which he desperately didn't want to happen.

Looking up, he noticed Y/n watching his face intently, her mouth slightly open as she moved to her own rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement before she leaned down, kissing all over his neck while her hands travelled around his collarbones, caressing his skin.

Wordlessly Jackson's bigger hand slowly grabbed hers, moving it up towards his throat, wrapping it suggestively with a certain look in his eyes. Y/n knew.

Of course she did.

With a quiet sigh, she shook her head lightly, moving upwards to his cheek, the gentle touch sending shockwaves down his spine as she watched him with care and gentleness he never experienced.

Covering her hand with his own, Jackson sat up lightly, moving her closer. He didn't fight it anymore.

“You're so beautiful” He breathed out, wrapping his arm around her waist and capturing her lips in a deep, sensual dance as she caressed his hair. They both seemed to get lost in the sensations, drowning in each other's presence without any will or need to seek saving.

As Y/n squeezed her eyes, her body tensing on top of his, Jackson knew she was coming. Leaning his forehead on her collarbone, he followed right after. For the first time in his life, he realised that the way she held him felt even better than the most amazing orgasm he ever experienced.

…and just like that, Jackson knew he’d stay the night, and countless more.

Because even if he couldn't name or say it, he knew the reason why he would keep coming back.

***

Taglist: @lau219 @xsweetcatastrophe

[swordsandholly]

A little sneak speak into a poly 141 x reader pro wrestling AU I’m working on for WIP Wednesday.

“Hello.” You blink up at the imposing figure above you.

Dark eyes stare down at you from behind his signature mask. A black balaclava with a sewn in skull covering his eyes. An iconic image in modern day wrestling.

The Ghost. Simon Riley. Current Heavyweight Champion. Thirty-one. Six-four and two hundred and fifty-five pounds. Lean.

You try very, very hard to ignore the fact that this massive man standing in front of you is wearing nothing but his wrestling trunks and knee-high boots. It feels so much skimpier in person.

“Och, yer the new announcer, aye?” Another man appears beside him. John MacTavish aka Soap. Another member of the 141 faction.

He’s pretty. The kind of pretty you’d recognize from a mile away. He was always one of your favorites to watch in the indies, when you could, and he continued to be a favorite all the way into the pros. He’s fast, high energy but a heavy hitter at the same time.

Current tag team champions with Gaz. Twenty-seven. Five foot ten, two hundred and twenty pounds and one of the prettiest men on the planet, as per the numerous fan pages dedicated to him and his kilt.

You nod, trying to calm down the rushing in your ears by giving your name and holding out your hand. Hopefully he doesn’t notice the shaking.

“Lovely tae meet ye.” He shakes your hand excitedly, a genuine grin splitting his face. “Donnae mind the big guy - he’s as quiet out of ring as in.”

You snort. So it’s not just the persona.

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 呪術廻戦 ; gojo satoru x fem reader (1k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ valentine's day is approaching; and with a valentine comes love...or for worse...heartbreak.

contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, angst, mentions of fluff idk, there’s some swearing i think author's note; happy (almost) valentine's,, i’m projecting

1 day, 9 hours, and 47 minutes.

your last conversation wasn't anything out of the ordinary. there was no dry spell. no plateau. no failure to communicate. just you and satoru, plus the typical banter, talking about something as simple as what you were planning on making for dinner; to be more precise, what you were trying to make for dinner. you're a pretty awful cook according to him.

everything seemed to be going so well...really well...almost perfectly well— and with valentine's day right around the corner, you'd instinctively assumed that he'd ask you to be his. instinct is a difficult emotion, though. is it even an emotion? you're not quite sure, but your heart believes it is. your heart— which is practically pounding out of your chest at the current moment, stretching your skin, eager to feel the limitless fresh air and freedom that comes with floating on cloud 9— instinctively wants to believe satoru is your soulmate. you love him don't you? is the answer yes? it should be no.

you've known him for...what? four months? four months of your twenty years of life is seemingly small. that's only one point six-seven percent of your entire lifetime...one point six-seven percent of your life that you wish you could relive forevermore.

...he isn't going to text you back is he?

2 days, 2 hours, and 15 minutes.

each second passing is another flicker of hope that misses the candle wick. instead of lighting the path that leads to your eventual relationship, it lights a fire beneath your feet. your socks feel warm. there's coal beneath them. hot, burning coal withering away the sense of feel in your toes; breathing in the aroma of heartbreak until it becomes a roaring fire that consumes all of you.

why is he doing this? what did you do wrong? you haven't done anything wrong. he's just a man. a man who can't seem to stop playing with your heart.

you can hear his voice in the back of your mind. the part of your mind that connects to your heart. "can you facetime, right now? i'm having a bad day and i just want to see your face." he had to have meant that. "you don't need to apologize for talking over me, i love hearing what you have to say." a guy wouldn't just say that to say that. "don't be too hard on yourself, i know you'll figure everything out becuase you're you. you always know what to do." it couldn't have all been bullshit.

it can't have been bullshit.

because if that's all it was, then you're just a fool in love.

and fools in love are no better than clowns.

3 days, 14 hours, and 22 minutes.

you did what you hate doing. the thing that makes you want to scream into your pillow at the mere thought. the very thing that screams desperation and neediness and clinginess and insecurity all in one. you sent another message.

in the past, you've never had feelings strong enough to elicit such a response. your heart hasn't tied itself to another person's with a red satin bow. the fated string of fate hadn't found you yet. it allowed you to maintain a stable head and remain grounded with no hopes of love on your radar. you hadn't yet learned how to fly; until that day you met satoru and suddenly you had a hundred pilot lessons lined up day-after-day.

it was so easy being with him. everything was so easy.

for the first time ever you had no doubts. you weren't afraid of waking up one morning to find him gone. disappeared. nonexistent. you full-heartedly believed he'd never leave; and you believed he reciprocated those thoughts. now, though...now you may never know what bits and pieces he reciprocated— because your plane crashed. turbulence flew beneath the wings and drove the flight off course. the oxygen masks bellowed down upon the passengers, every seat being filled with your pounding heartbeats, and each and every one of them blew out of the window with no parachute. he didn't even try to cushion the fall.

4 days, 1 hour, and 39 minutes.

if there's one message you never expected to receive, it's surely 'seen 14 hours ago'.

you'd given him space and assumed he'd been busy with a million other things and hadn't had any time to send you a quick message. your last text wasn't even anything out of the ordinary, just a quick "are you okay?", you think that's pretty reasonable. it's reasonable, isn't it?

something could be seriously wrong with him. why else would he leave you on read? he's never done this before. usually, you're the one who's more distant between the two of you. that's how your relationship began, after all. he'd send five texts in comparison to your two; which later evolved into five rivaling five, and now to zero rivaling two. the scales have tipped. how do you rebalance them?

you trust satoru. there must be a perfectly good explanation for this odd irregularity that's occurring in your otherwise perfect relationship. after all, all of your friends love him— they think he's the greatest catch of the 21st century. he's never done anything in the past to warrant such strange behavior. this is simply a difficult week for him...and you'll be there whenever he's ready to vent.

5 days, 22 hours, and 7 minutes.

a broken heart isn't for the weak...but unfortunately, you're not one of the stronger warriors.

he's at another girl's birthday party. he hasn't messaged you back in almost six days...and he's with another girl? celebrating her? he could be holding her close and you wouldn't even know, because god knows he wouldn't tell you. he won't even say good morning anymore. he won't even answer your fucking three word message that you sent out of desperation and concern for his well being. instead, he's at the club with his friends, getting drunk and taking shots, having the time of his life; and you're sitting in your room watching his social media stories...believing that everything that went wrong is all your fault.

but it's not your fault.

it's not your fault you fell for someone like that.

someone like satoru gojo.

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Six - The Hunt

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.7K words

Warnings: guns, kidnapping, major character death!! LIKE SERIOUSLY MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

guy's im so sorry for this one

Series Masterlist

Carlos watched the video again and again. He analysed anything he could from it, but there wasn't a lot to go on. It hurt to watch, seeing his pretty little wife in such a state. He watched it to the point he could see the bump forming. Their baby was growing. Through all of this, their baby was still growing.

He gave his phone to Lando, who had his best men taking a look at things. If anybody could find where the video had come from, it was them.

"Hello, Sainz. I believe I have something that belongs to you," the man in the video had said. Carlos couldn't see his face, just his wife on the floor.

He nearly snapped his phone in half at the sight of her. On the floor, a dishevelled mess. Hair greasy and matted, eyes bloodshot and tears staining her face.

"Now, what I want is simple. Leave two million pounds in a suitcase outside of the Mirabelle House hotel and it shall be collected at a time of my choosing. You have twenty-four hours to drop off the suitcase and retreat back to the Norris house. If the suitcase isn't there in the allotted time, I'll put a bullet in her pretty little head. I'll be watching."

The video zoomed in one Y/N, on her face as she sobbed. She looked so broken down and Carlos's heart was breaking.

This shouldn't have been the first time he saw his pregnant wife with a baby bump. It shouldn't have been from this video.

"Sir," Called one of Lando's men, striding towards them. He was a tall man that easily towered over Lando, but Lando was still much more powerful than him. It was clear by the way Lando stood tall and the man had his shoulders slumped. "We've traced the video back to a house maybe five minutes away from the Mirabelle House hotel."

"Great," said Lando, sitting back on the sofa.

Carlos just stared at him. They knew where Y/N was, yet Lando had sat back down, like he didn't care. "What the fuck are you doing?" He roared, that rage he had felt when Y/N first disappeared still there.

Sitting around for four days didn't help. Carlos wanted to tear the city apart, but Lando and Oscar held him back. Waiting was all they could do.

"Go and fill a suitcase with money," he said, switching on the television.

"Lando," Carlos growled. He was going to lose his shit.

"He's probably watching through the cameras! If we act like we're getting the money together to take to Mirabelle House, we can go onto the house and get Y/N!" Lando insisted.

It was at times like this that Lando showed his maturity and intelligence. It was his father's doing, how he had trained his son before he had died, Carlos realised.

He let out a breath through his nose (embarrassed that he hadn't thought of this plan himself) and went upstairs. As he went, Lando shouted up to him, telling him where he could find a suitcase and enough money to make it look like they were putting two million pounds into the suitcase.

Carlos was smarter than that, though. He put his body between the security camera and himself as he placed the two hundred pounds with of fivers into a suitcase. The suitcase didn't look very full, but Carlos pushed the bills to the side to make it look much fuller than it was.

When the suitcase was ready, Carlos carried it downstairs. Lando had received the address from his men and the two of them, along with Oscar, headed out to the car. "What about weapons?" Asked Carlos as he opened the trunk of the car.

Lando tapped the side of his nose as he pulled up the carpet inside of the trunk up, revealing the guns.

"Do we have a game plan?" Asked Carlos as he armed himself.

Oscar placed a gun into the waistband of his trousers. "Lando and I will deal with any men while you push forward and search for Y/N," he said and walked over to the drivers seat of the car.

Lando and Carlos couldn't protest that. Oscar was probably the calmest out of the three of them, the least likely to accidentally send them into the back of another car.

After Lando pulled up the GPS, they set off. The first upbeat, happy pop song came on the radio and Carlos was quick to switch it off. They certainly weren't going to be dancing in the moonlight tonight.

They drove past the Mirabelle House hotel and Carlos couldn't help but look around. Was the man that stole his wife away here? Was he waiting to snatch the money and go back to Y/N?

Some of you may be wondering why isn't Carlos just paying him? He certainly had the money. But this was a tale as old as time. Carlos knew exactly what would happen if he was to hand over the money. As soon as the money was in the man's hands, there would be a bullet in his wife's head.

They pulled up in front of the house. It looked incredibly unassuming, a simple town house in the city. Three bedrooms, maybe.

Oscar parked the car as though this was a normal day, as though they weren't about to go and rescue his best friend. The three of them climbed out of the car, keeping their guns in the waistband of their trousers.

They walked up to the house, Oscar leading them. They couldn't ring the bell or bust down the door, not without threatening Y/N's safety. So, Oscar got down onto his knees and worked on picking the lock.

It was one of his many talents, something he had learnt before Webber had taken him in. In fact, it was one of the reasons why Webber had taken him in.

As Oscar worked on the lock, Carlos and Lando noticed a camera, pointing directly at them. Fuck, that couldn't be good.

But, luckily for the three of them, the kidnapper was too busy watching the cameras in the Norris and the Sainz households. A grim smile had spread across his face as soon as he'd seen Carlos put the money into the suitcase and drag it out of the house. Soon enough they'd be back and he could go and get the money.

"Your fucking husband," he laughed as he looked at Y/N, the gun he was going to use to get rid of her in his lap.

Suddenly there was a commotion from up stairs. With no time to grab Y/N from her cell, he held his gun up, pointing it at the door.

Up stairs, Lando and Carlos shot the men waiting in the stairs. It wasn't a part of the plan, for Carlos to stay behind and deal with the men, so Oscar pushed forward.

It didn't matter that they weren't following the plan, thought Oscar as he pushed on. Aside from the two men on the stairs, there didn't seem to be anybody else in the house. But Oscar still kept his gun out as he made his way down to the basement.

It was just a hunch, her being down in the basement. The video had been dark and he couldn't really think of where else she would be.

The door at the bottom of the basement stairs were shut. Slowly and carefully, with one hand still holding his gun, Oscar pushed the door open.

A single shot cut through the frigid air of the basement.

Oscar didn't react right away. Red blossomed on the right side of his white shirt. And then his body dropped to the floor.

"That shot was meant for you," hissed the kidnapper as he turned back towards Y/N.

Y/N who's hands were covering her mouth. Y/N who couldn't believe what she had just seen. Y/N, who's best friends body was laying just a couple of feet away from her.

Suddenly, as the kidnapper reloaded his gun (he hadn't expected this, had loaded the gun with a single bullet for Y/N), somebody else came running down the stairs.

There was another shot and Y/N couldn't stop herself from screaming.

But her husband ran through the door as her kidnapper fell to the floor, dead.

His fingers wrapped around the bars of her cell as he reached towards her. "My darling wife," he whispered as Y/N grabbed a hold of him. One hand cradles her stomach as she stood up and rushed towards him. "How do I open this?" He asked, his voice calm as he pulled at the door of the cell. It didn't budge.

"There's a key. In his pocket," she said, her voice trembling.

Carlos searched the body, pulling a key out of a dead mans pocket. Neither of them had addressed the body of their friend on the floor.

As soon as he got the door open, Y/N ran into her husbands arms, tears streaming down her face. She sobbed into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight. "Oh, my love," he whispered as he kissed the side of her head. "Mi amor."

But then Y/N pulled away from him. She walked over to the body on the floor and fell to her knees. "Osc," she said, as if it would magically bring him back. Fat tears rolled down her cheek as she grabbed his hand. "Oscar."

Placing his hand on her shoulder, Carlos tried to pull her away. He was gentle, though. A harsh hand would never be laid on his wife again.

"No!" She suddenly screamed, throwing herself over the body. "I won't leave him! I can't leave him!" She screamed, eyes shut as she cried into Oscar's suit jacket.

With his touch still gentle, Carlos picked her up. "It's okay, mi amor," he said, holding her in his arms. "We'll come back for him, Lando and I."

Y/N simply cried as Carlos carried her away, carrying her out of the house.

Taglist (CLOSED): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal @graciewrote @biancathecool @evans-dejong @sparklyperfectionstranger @venusesworld @goldenharrysworld @cassie0sstuff @gracielukey @watermelonworries @celesteblack08 @shobaes @chonkybonky

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Temptation and Need

Summary: Can Y/N tempt Dean into what he needs?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), face-sitting, cum shot, overstimulation, big age gap (21 and 43), dirty talk, dub-con (sort of - the reader not taking no for an answer), masturbation, voyeurism (very brief), use of a vibrator, spanking, (brief), pussy slapping (brief).

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 3,895

A/N: A million years ago (okay, last December) I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap with dean winchester where the female!reader is like in her 20s and dean's is his 40s :) just some rough smut with like hair pulling where dean asks for her to sit on his face or something like that (if you're comfortable with it) and just dirty talks cause I absolutely love them haha :) I really love your writing btw!!!! thanks a lot <3

It took me about four and a half months to get to this, but it's finally here! Thank you so much for this request, hope you're happy with it Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Y/N had known it would be good - no - amazing. Since the first time she’d laid eyes on Dean Winchester six months earlier, she’d wanted to feel him beneath her, above her, behind her, inside her. She’d wanted him any and every way she could have him.

She simply needed him with the heat of a raging fire that never cooled.

So she’d imagined this moment for more than a hundred nights, and she’d known it would be incredible. But her imagination had been woefully inadequate.

She’d been attempting to seduce Dean the entire time she’d known him. She knew that he knew how much she wanted him, but he’d been reluctant. Every time she sidled up close to him, he’d moved away. Any time she put her hands on him, his heart kicked up so she could feel it pound, and if she got close enough she could feel the hard evidence of his desire press against her. But inevitably he would gently lift her hands off of him and give her a look of warning.

“Stop this, Y/N.” He’d scold with heat pooling quick and fervid in his eyes.

One time he’d given her a look of exasperation and then scowled at her. “I’m too old for you dammit. I could be your father.”

She bit her lip and smiled, full of mischief, as she’d answered. “Well, I’m happy to call you Daddy, if that’s what you want.”

It was true that she was just barely twenty-one and Dean was forty-three, but she didn’t care. In fact, she’d always preferred older men. Men like Dean had experience and stamina, they knew just what to do to pleasure their partner. She’d never slept with anyone less than a decade older than her. Some people might say she had daddy issues (and maybe she did) but she didn’t care what other people thought - she pursued her own pleasure.

Yet in spite of plenty of sexual experiences with older men, despite all her fantasies about Dean, she’d never imagined this level of pleasure.

***

A few hours earlier:

Dean fell onto the library chair, closing his eyes with a groan and dropping his green duffel bag at his feet, just as Y/N walked into the room. 

“You’re back!” She called excitedly as she hurried towards him. “How was the hunt? Where’s Sam?”

Dean grunted as she hopped into his lap. His feet were planted on the ground, and he was slightly slouched in the chair creating the perfect seat for her. His long, muscular thighs rippled beneath her, and as she wiggled against him, she felt the telltale sign of his desire as the bulge at the front of his jeans hardened slightly against her thigh.

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he gave her a scolding look. “The hunt was long and bloody, but fine. It's finished anyway. And Sam is with Eileen."

She ran her finger across the small abrasion on his cheek. "Well, at least you're less beaten up than usual." She said with dubious cheer.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, it was a walk in the park. Now get off my lap so I can go take a shower.”

She nodded and slid off so he could stand, but when he moved off towards the showers, she followed. When he arrived at the shower room door, he turned to look at her standing close behind him. He gave a sideways nod towards the door.

“This is as far as you go, sweetheart.” He said with a raised brow; his gaze turned knowing as she pouted.

She tried for her most convincing tone. “But just think of how much more enjoyable it would be if I came in with you.” She could see in his eyes that he was thinking about exactly that scenario.

But he shook his head. “No. It’s late, you shouldn't have waited up for me. Go to sleep.”

She pouted some more and then sighed before giving him a winsome smile and a wink. “Yes, Daddy.”

Dean scowled at her but she just stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before slowly backing away. 

“Goodnight, Dean. I’m glad you’re home. I sleep so much better when you’re here.” She said truthfully.

He gave her a nod and then walked into the shower room. She heard the lock click and she sighed. Another night with nothing but her fantasies to sustain her. 

She went to her room and got ready for bed, slipping on the AC/DC t-shirt she’d stolen from Dean. He knew she had it, he’d seen her in it, but he’d never demanded it back. 

She crawled into bed and tried to go to sleep. But she was restless, her body aching in a way that wouldn’t end without Dean between her legs. 

Her skin was flushed and the soft wool blanket she was covered with irritated her overheated flesh until she threw it off of her. She brought her hands up to cover her face; she knew she wouldn’t get to sleep unless she did something about the longing that had overtaken her body.

So she rolled over and pulled open the bottom drawer of her bedside table, pulling out the modest-sized vibrator she kept hidden in there for nights just like tonight. Since moving into the bunker a few months ago, nights like tonight happened pretty much every night. 

She leaned back against her pillows and let her mind drift, allowing images to flash into her mind’s eye. Dean’s face, set in lines of intense desire; his hands, strong and hard, warm and rough, moving over her body. 

She slipped her hand past the waistband of her panties, letting her middle finger swirl around her clit, desperately trying to imagine it was Dean’s thick, blunt fingertip pressing against her.

After a few minutes of bringing forth endless hot and decadent images of Dean into her head, she turned on the vibrator and let it press against her clit a moment or two before sliding it through her dripping slick, and pushing it inside. 

As she fucked herself with the toy, she kept Dean’s body in mind - his powerful muscles and solid bulk - imagining him hovering above her. She worked at it for a long time, desperately seeking her release. 

But though she moved the vibrating silicone cock fast and hard in and out of her quivering cunt, she just couldn’t find it. After half an hour of coming so close, but constantly missing the mark, Y/N was whimpering and more frustrated than she could express. 

In desperation, she began to chant quietly, imagining that Dean was there with her and could hear her need. “Dean. Dean. Fuck me, please. Ugh, I need you so badly, I fucking need you.” Her voice crescendoed in a moan of disappointment as her orgasm stayed just beyond her reach. “Dean.” She whined as she bucked her hips desperately.

Suddenly she heard her door squeak open, making her squeal and rip the vibrator out of her body, shock coursing through her, making her heart pound. But then she fell completely silent as she saw Dean standing silhouetted against the hallway light.  

For a moment or two neither of them moved. Finally, Y/N turned off her vibrator and silence reigned. 

Dean finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I heard you. Heard you calling my name.” 

He took a step inside her room; she could see now that he was dressed for sleep, sweats and no shirt - she gasped softly at the incredible view of his wide chest, his shoulder muscles flexing as his hands balled into fists. She could also make out more of his face; it was set in harsh lines, the muscle in his jaw flexing over and over. He licked his lips and her pussy clenched.

“Why were you calling me?” Dean asked, though he had to know the answer as she still gripped the vibrator, and the scent of her dripping sex perfumed the air. 

She could sense that the cord that bound them, that had been pulling them together and apart since the day they met, was about to snap - if she could just say the right words.

She went with the truth.

“I was calling out to you while I fucked myself. I was imagining it was your cock buried deep inside me, imagining your hands on my skin, your lips on my throat.” Dean’s eyes were blazing emeralds with dark onyx pupils spreading across them as she spoke.

“But this thing wasn’t cutting it.” She said, lifting the vibrator and then dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “I need the real thing.”

She pushed her feet into the mattress and opened her knees wide, pushing her hand into her panties once again as she stared at him. “I need you, Dean. Please.”

The cord snapped and Dean charged forward, stopping at the end of her bed and grabbing her ankles to yank her towards him. She gasped as he placed a knee between her legs and rested his weight on his palms as he leaned down to capture her mouth. 

His kiss was hard, desperate, almost violent, as he crushed her lips and stabbed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned at the weight of him pressed against her, lifting her hips slightly so she could press her aching cunt against his thick thigh. She groaned harshly into Dean’s mouth as the pressure caused an even hotter fever to rage across her body.

Dean pulled out of the kiss and stood up, taking hold of her hands to pull her into a sitting position. His chest was rising and falling with deep breaths as he grasped the hem of his stolen t-shirt.

His voice was all growl when he spoke. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about ripping this fucking t-shirt from your body? How many mornings I had to sneak away to the shower to jack off like a fucking horny teenager, after seeing you parading around in it? It barely covers your ass, and every time you’d bend, even a little, I could see a glimpse of your little cotton panties, or sometimes, just your bare ass in a thong.”

His voice was slightly dark, a rebuke in his words. “I knew you were doing it on purpose, of course, knew it was your way of trying to tempt me into fucking ruining you.”

He yanked the t-shirt up over her head as a moan escaped her. Dean groaned too as he got his first look at her. “Fuck me.” He said quietly. 

He looked her in the eye as he reached out and roughly tugged on her puckered nipple. She cried out, her head dropping back, as she arched her chest forward.

“God damn, baby, you really do want it, don’t you? I thought it might be a game you were playing, but you really do want me to ruin this hot little pussy.” He reached his hand down to rub against her soaked panties. “You want that, baby? Huh? Want me to fuck you sensless? Till you can’t walk? Can’t think?”

Y/N nodded disjointedly. “God yes.” She whispered, grabbing his wrist to try and press his fingers harder against her cunt. “Please. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Dean knocked her hand away and grabbed both her wrists tightly as he used his body weight to push her back onto the mattress. He stared at her, making her feel like he could see straight through her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer.

“How much experience do you actually have, Y/N?”

She shook her head to dispel any worries. “Enough. I’m no virgin, and I know what I like.”

His mouth lifted slightly at the corner. “And what do you like, baby?”

“I like it rough and hard, but I’ll take some soft wooing too.” She said with a grin. She shrugged. “Basically, I like you - a lot - and whatever you have in mind, I’m down for.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, but give me a safe word, just in case.” He kissed her softly. “I won’t take any chances with you.”

His concern for her made Y/N’s stomach flip in a pleasant way. She smiled. “K, how about ‘shenanigans’?” 

Dean chuckled. “Perfect.”

His smile faded as he bent his head to kiss her again, slowly this time, thoroughly, as though he didn’t want to leave an inch of her mouth unexplored. When he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air, he slowly kissed a path down her body, between her breasts, stopping to nip and suck on her nipples, pinching one and then the other, before trailing his lips down over her belly.

When he reached the apex of her thighs, he got off the bed to kneel at the foot of it, pulling her panties down over her legs and tossing them aside. He reached forward to wrap his arms around her thighs, spreading her open and pulling her to his mouth. He made a deep, guttural noise as he sank into her cunt, immediately licking and sucking on her sensitive skin, so that she was writhing beneath him almost instantly. She called out his name in desperation as she sank her fingers into his short hair, tugging slightly when he speared her with his tongue.

He pulled away from her and licked his lips free of her juices. “Fuck, yeah baby, say my name again, just like that.” 

He let go of one of her thighs so he could bring his hand between her legs and slap it hard against her pussy. Y/N gasped and then her hips bucked as he did it again.

“You’ve been a naughty girl with this fucking pussy, haven’t you? Pushing this dripping mess against me every chance you got. Fuckin' rubbing on me, and constantly begging me to fuck you.”

He smacked her a third time and Y/N felt her cunt throb with a deep ache. “Fuck, Dean yes! I’ve wanted you to fuck me, wanted you to take me apart for so fucking long. Please, please! Bury yourself so deep in me.”

She screamed in pleasure as he rammed two fingers into her, knuckle deep. As he crooked them forward inside of her, he leaned down to flick his tongue against her clit, making her rear up off the bed. She was so close now. She could feel the tension in her body just on the verge of snapping, when he suddenly pulled back from her, removing his fingers and causing her to wail and plead.

“No, please, Dean. More.” She whimpered pathetically as he stood up.

But then he pushed down his sweats and she caught sight of his cock for the first time. It was long and thick, just as she’d known it would be - everything about Dean screamed, “Big Dick Energy”. It was absolutely beautiful, red-tipped and standing at attention.

She sat up and reached for him, wrapping her hand around the base and sliding her tongue through his slit, licking up the pre-cum that beaded there. Dean stood rigidly, letting her lick at him like a lollipop for a couple minutes more before he pulled her hand away. 

“That’s enough for now, sweetheart.”

She pouted at him, but he just leaned down to grasp her waist, lifting her slightly and tossing her further up the bed. She gasped at the pleasure of being manhandled like a rag doll. He was on his knees as he moved towards her. He grabbed hold of her calves and flipped her over onto her stomach before smacking her ass once and then twice.

She moaned and instinctively lifted her hips, pushing her ass towards him for more. 

He slapped her again, and then ordered her, “Get on your knees, and lean forward to hold on to the headboard.”

She did as he said, grabbing on to the rails of her headboard tightly. He pushed her thighs apart before turning to lay on his back underneath her, pushing her knees open even further with his wide shoulders. 

Y/N was surprised; she’d thought he was getting her into position so he could take her from behind; instead she looked down to see his beautiful face positioned directly below her dripping cunt. 

“Sit on my face, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. Ride me.”

Y/N moaned as he lifted his head slightly so he could lick up through her folds. He dropped his head back to the mattress, though, and his voice was hard when he spoke. 

“Now.”

Despite all of her experience, Y/N had never been ordered to sit on a man’s face, and had never had oral sex this way. At first she was worried that she could hurt him, so she just lightly gyrated her hips against his mouth. But after a minute or so Dean grabbed onto her thighs and spoke angrily.

“I said sit, not float.” His hands pulled her down, forcing her to rest heavily against his face, so that she was truly sitting on it. His nose rubbed against her clit and Y/N couldn’t help grinding down against his mouth. His tongue delved deeply into her cunt, stabbing in and out of her entrance. 

Very soon Y/N was truly fucking herself on his face, using the strength of his jaw and the slide of his lips to create otherworldly sensations. Every once in a while she’d lift herself slightly to check that Dean was okay, but he’d always growl and pull her back down. 

Finally she could feel her orgasm growing inside her, felt the coil low in her stomach tightening almost to the point of pain, but then it burst open and she screamed as she rocked her hips and slammed herself down against Dean’s eager mouth as he slurped up everything she gushed onto him.

Aftershocks of her climax along with Dean’s probing tongue and plump, sucking lips, brought on two more mind-blowing orgasms. It felt as though she’d been edging herself for months and was now finally free to let go; her whole body trembled as Dean finally pushed her back and then rolled her under him.

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked down into Y/N’s face; she knew she must look strung out, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping in. Dean must have seen it too because he shook his head and swiftly shoved three fingers into her cunt making her come alive again with a shout.

“No way, baby. You didn’t spend all these months begging me to fuck you, just to get off with coming a couple times and falling asleep. I want you fucked out completely. I want you stupid and useless beneath me. I want to fuck you so long that you’re just a boneless, lump of cock slut laid out on the bed.”

As he finished speaking he pressed his middle finger against her clit and that pressure, combined with his filthy words, was all it took to have her shouting out her ecstasy once again.

As she was coming down, Dean slammed himself into her, forcing her clenching walls open so her cunt could squeeze him tight as he sheathed himself inside. He pushed her knees wide open, keeping her feet in the air as he jackhammered into her. He slammed so hard and so deep, she knew he’d leave marks. 

And she knew she’d never experienced anything like it, nothing in her past, or even in her fantasies had prepared her for this level of raw passion and need.

She came two more times as he fucked up into her; he changed up his rhythm, going from hard and driving to slow and sensual as the mood suited him. By the time he flipped her onto her stomach Y/N did indeed feel boneless and stupid with pleasure.

“Please Dean.” She begged softly, not actually aware what she was asking for. 

“Come on baby, I didn’t say we were done, don’t give out on me now.” Dean said harshly as he lifted her hips. Her knees rubbed against the sheet, but really she was being held in place with Dean’s strength.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re seeing stars.” He told her before slamming her back onto his cock, drilling even deeper inside than he had before.

Y/N gasped, her pussy was so overly sensitive after being fucked for so long, but she couldn’t escape the intense rush of pleasure that came as Dean slammed his cock against her sweet spot deep inside her.

“Fuck, yes.” She mumbled into the pillow where her face was buried. 

“Yeah, that’s right baby.” Dean rammed into the spot again, making her scream, her throat raw from all her screams of pleasure. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you’ve wanted for months, isn’t it? Spent every minute I’ve known you trying to get us right here, haven’t you?”

He dropped one of her hips so he could spank her right cheek hard, watching it jiggle. “Answer me!” He demanded as he spanked her again before grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head up and back. “Tell me how much you’ve wanted this, little slut. Admit to prancing around this bunker, desperate for me to pin you down and fuck you just like this.”

“Yes!” Y/N gasped as he pounded into her over and over, never losing rhythm or strength. “Yes, fuck, yes.” It was all she could get out. She was truly exhausted, but she still chased the high he was raising within her with every thrust.

He spanked her again and then reached his hand around so that he could push against her throbbing clit. It took only a few circles with his finger, and a few more hammering thrusts before she shattered into a million pieces, seeming to shake and shiver forever.

As she came back to earth slightly, she could feel Dean pulling out of her. “I’m gonna come baby. Can I come on your ass?” She nodded and mumbled out a “yes.”

She heard him grunt obscenely, and despite her liquefied bones, her pussy still clenched at the sound, before she felt his sticky seed spurting across her ass, and lower back. He bucked forward, his thighs slapping against her ass as he shot another load, warm and wet, onto her skin.

Finally he fell to the side, and Y/N let her knees give out beneath her as she fell onto her stomach in complete exhaustion and immediate unconsciousness. She woke some time later to feel Dean wiping her clean with a warm cloth and pressing kisses up her spine.

When he saw her eyes flutter open, he tossed away the cloth and laid down beside her, kissing her nose and her cheek before pressing his mouth gently to hers. 

“You were so fucking perfect, Y/N. Everything I’ve dreamed about night after night.” He shook his head. “No, you were even more perfect than I imagined, so much more.”

She smiled softly and raised an eyebrow. “So you agree? You were an idiot and we should have done this so much sooner?”

He scoffed. “N’ah, it was perfect this way, at this time. But it’s gonna be even more perfect next time.”

Y/N grinned at him and tried not to be too obvious about how thrilled she was that there was going to be a next time. 

“I don’t know.” She teased. “You’re gonna have to try hard to do better than this.”

Dean grinned wickedly. “Challenge accepted.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

[webslingingslasher]

I just did an ab workout and it fucking sucked ass

But as a result… may I raise you, workout out with Peter

It’s a need!

*cleaning out my inbox*

peter’s strength…. so yummy 🤤

you knew exactly what you were doing, but peter didn’t. ‘i bet you couldn’t bench two fifty.’

he’s insulted to say the least. ‘i’m sorry, trouble. you said what?’ because there’s no way you just told him that.

‘i bet you couldn’t bench two fifty. you’re strong, but not that strong.’ peter scoffs, ‘i don’t think you realize how light two fifty is.’

you quirk an eyebrow, ‘oh really? i’d take you up on that bet.’ it’ll be the easiest bet of his entire life. ‘deal. i’ll take you to the gym with me next time, then you can see for yourself.’

that’s how you ended up watching peter grunt under the weighted bar, he’s got three twenty and he’s going so smooth he doesn’t need a spot, but you’re still there just in case. it’s not like you’d be any real help if shit went south.

‘is this your max?’ your words make peter laugh, like your question was adorable. ‘not even close.’ okay, maybe you thought he was stronger than what you originally teased. but him barely sweating at over three hundred pounds has you truly questioning his strength.

‘do you even have a max?’ there’s no way he could bench much more, he doesn’t have the muscle mass to back it up. not that he’s lean, but he’s no body builder either.

‘haven’t found one, no.’ the bar slams down, it bends under the force on each side. ‘there’s no way. i may have been exaggerating at first but you’re not mr. strongman.’

peter’s eyebrow raises like you just challenged him, you didn’t, but he took it as one. ‘wanna bet? give me a number.’

‘four fifty.’ an egregious amount but peter just nods and starts collecting more plates. the second his hands wrap around the bar you stop him, you didn’t want him over performing for your sake. if he hurt himself trying to impress you, you’d never forgive yourself for pushing him to that place.

‘you don’t have to. i believe you.’

peter fingers grip the steel, ‘it’s okay, i can do it.’ you slap his hands away, ‘no, really. don’t do it.’ you don’t care what expression he’s looking up at you with, you refuse to allow him.

‘you’re the one that gave me the number, trouble.’

‘because you were supposed to say no! don’t hurt yourself over this, i’m already impressed.’

peter clicks his tongue, disappointed you’d think of him so shallow. ‘i want to make you impressed at every chance, but i’m not gonna be stupid about it. if i couldn’t do it, id tell you.’

it’s not good enough, it’s a clear expression. peter immediately eats his words, he’s about to show off because you don’t believe him. the second the bar raises off the handle your teeth clench, you peer around the room and familiarize yourself with a very muscled man in the corner of the room. just in case.

no need, peter’s doing it with ease. he’s breathing hard, strained grunts pull from the back of his throat. he can bench it, but it’s not as easy as three hundred.

after four presses you can’t handle it, ‘okay, okay, okay! please stop.’ your hand hovers underneath the bar when it slams into the handle.

peter teases you when he rises from the padding. ‘you could never be the girlfriend of an athlete. what would you do if i broke my leg while drag racing?’

‘kill myself, i dunno.’

peter’s sweating across his hairline, his skin tacky under your touch. he shakes it off, ‘i’m hot.’ you wink, ‘yeah, you are.’

‘next time, just tell me you wanna see me workout. you don’t have to make up numbers, trouble.’

you play offended, ‘i did no such thing.’

‘you didn’t touch a single machine here.’

‘i was emotional support.’

‘i was eye candy, that’s it.’

your arms wrap around his waist, his back damp under your palm. ‘and you are so, so, so yummy. can i take you home and eat you?’

a glare from peter, ‘isn’t that my job?’

[lescarbille]

481 Pounds of Fine

Landoscar | 23K | College AU

Lando Norris is a boy with a blinding smile, showing the slight gap between his two front teeth and two dimples. His skin is tanned as if he spent the school year travelling the world. His look is the most striking for Oscar, a mixture of blues, greens, greys with hazel glitter, like an ocean. The narrowing of his eyes gives him a mischievous look, a mixture of: “I have never done anything wrong in my life” and “I am the most evil gremlins you have ever met”.

Oscar swallowed.

“So? Please tell me that’s twenty quid, I only have twenty quid on me.”

Oscar shakes his head to take his attention away from Lando, before looking at his screen. Under a flash of pixels, the sum appears, and Oscar can't help but gasp in surprise and lean over to check the sum.

“You're fined four hundred and eighty-one pounds.”

---

Lando has lost books and Oscar is a cute student who work at the library.

[huggybearhughes43]

Hi!! Could you write swayman x Reader what's she loses a bet to him and she has to do anything he asks? Could be filthy af if you like!

Pretend

Jeremy Swayman x Fem! Reader

Warnings- SMUT, oral (F+M! Receiving), dirty names, cum eating, cream pie, Jeremy being a sweetheart

Summary- in the ask

Word count- 2k

The crowds cheers pierced my ears as I stare at the ice in shock. Three hours prior I made the stupid decision of betting that Jeremy Swayman would not be able to make a goal as a goalie. Fans cheerfully exited the arena as the timer went off showing the game ended with a Bruins victory.

I had a few thoughts about sneaking out of the arena with the fans. But that ultimately wouldn’t work, I’d see him another day anyways. I reluctantly walk through the hallways that went towards the locker room, fidgeting with the hem of my dress. I scoff when I see Jeremy smirking at me from his stance against the wall with his arms crossed next to the locker room.

I roll my eyes and approach him. “What’s the price?” His smirk doesn’t falter as he furrows his brows. “What? No congratulations? No ‘wow that was amazing Jeremy! You’re so super cool!’” He mimics in a high pitched voice. I stare at him blankly, causing him to roll his eyes. “You’re gonna do everything o say for…” he thinks for a moment “twenty four hours? That seems fair.” I shake my head “and if I say no?” His expression softens but he doesn’t lose the smirk as he shrugs. “I can’t force you to do anything, y/n… but it is only fair.”

I gnaw at my bottom lip and sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, fine, fine.” He nods and pushes off the wall, picking up his bag and handing it to me. “Starting now.” He smiles jokingly. I groan dramatically and throw his bag over my shoulder, the heavy bag slowing me down as I follow him out to his car.

Once we get to his car I drop the bag, breathlessly. Hearing my panting, Jeremy turns around with his hands on his hips and a smile plastered across his face. “Too much for you?” “It’s like… five hundred pounds!” Jeremy laughs as he opens his trunk, “it’s fifty.” I glare at him “same difference.” “Whatever you say.” He laughs as he hoists the bag into his trunk and closes it.

“Get in.” He says nonchalantly as he walks towards the drivers seat. “Sir yes sir.” I sigh and get in the passenger side. The ride back to his house was mostly quiet, quiet whistles coming from Jeremy all the way up until we pulled up in his driveway. “I’m not getting your bag.” Jeremy laughs and pulls out his keys to unlock his front door. “Yes ma’am.” He steps to the side to let me in. I walk into his house and stand off to the side.

He closes the door and goes to flop down on his couch. I look around the house, an unfamiliar one I’d never been in before. Jeremy looks over the back of the couch at me. “Make yourself at home.” I fidget my fingers and sit at the end of the couch he was laying on. “Did you eat dinner at the arena?” He asks almost politely. I look at him and shake my head.

He stands up and walks into his kitchen. I look over at him and furrow my brows. “What’re you doing?” “Making you something to eat.” He shrugs. “Aren’t I supposed to be doing stuff for you?” He looks back at me and smiles. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be nice.” “That’s a first” I half joke. “Remotes on the table.” He says as he looks through his fridge. I grab the remote and turn a random movie on that looked interesting.

In about half an hour Jeremy returns to the couch with two plates of food and two sodas. I smile up at him, “thank you” he laughs and sits down next to me as he put the plates on his coffee table. “Don’t thank me yet, I’ve only asked you to do one thing so far” I shrug “I guess so.”

Both of our attentions focus on the tv as we eat. Well, both of our attention were on the tv. My neck grew hot as I felt Jeremy’s gaze on my legs and then up to my face. I decide to tease him a bit, I look over at him and our eyes lock. “See something you like?.” He smirks and stands up. “Maybe I do” he takes the dishes to the kitchen, setting them in the kitchen sink. I roll my eyes, I knew he’d tell me to do them later.

Jeremy sits back down on the couch, this time closer than before, resting his arm behind my head on the couch. As I stare at the tv Jeremy focuses his gaze back onto me. He takes in a deep breath and lets his other hand fall to my exposed thigh. An obvious expression of discomfort falls onto my face and Jeremy takes his hand back quickly.

“Shit. I’m sorry, y/n- i thought-“ my eyes widen at his apology, I look back at him. “Jeremy- it’s not that! I mean… look at me!” I point to myself, “I’m a nobody! You’re famous, you have a good career, a future! I’d just weigh you down.” Jeremy stares at me dumbfounded. “That’s the only reason?” I look at him and nod. A stupid smile spreads across his face. His hand falls back onto my thigh, his pointer finger drawing shapes.

“Then pretend.” I furrow my brows as I look back up to him, our faces only inches apart. “What?” “Pretend I’m a nobody, pretend no one knows who I am, you’re the only person who knows me.” He whispers, his lips ghosting over mine. “That’s the second thing I want you to do, y/n…” I stare at his lips for a second then his eyes. “Jeremy, I-“ “please” a smile cracks on my face as I nod and mumble an “okay.”

He smiles and presses his lips to mine. His hands fine home on my hips, his soft kisses soon turning needy and sloppy. He disconnects our lips as he picks me up effortlessly. He connects our lips once again as he carries me up his stairs and into his room. He lays me down on his bed gently before pulling away to pull his own shirt off. He hungrily slams his lips back to mine, hovering above me.

My hands tangle in his soft hair as we make out, my moans filling his mouth. His hands move to under my short dress, groping my thighs. He pauses his rough kissing for half a second before pulling away and standing up. He fumbles with his belt breathlessly. “Knees. Now.” He pulls his belt off and pulls his jeans down along with his boxers down to his ankles, stepping out of them. I smirk and fall to my knees in front of him.

“Good girl” he praises breathlessly, tangling his hand in my hair, making a makeshift ponytail. I grab his fully erect dick and kitten lick it. I stare up at him and smile. “What do you want me to do for you?” Jeremy stares down at me breathlessly for a moment. “You dirty fucking slut” he laughs, “all the way, I wanna touch the back of your throat, wanna feel you gag around me like the slut you are.”

I do as he says and suck him as far as I could into my mouth. My eyes stay on his as I feel throat him, moving my head back and forth as tears prick in my eyes. Jeremy takes control when he feels me faltering. He uses my hair and moves me back and forth on his dick, forcing me to gag as he stuffs himself down my throat. I swallow around him and he throws his head back, fucking his load down my throat. He pulls off of me, his chest heaving as he pulls his dick out of my mouth with a *pop*.

He grasps my chin softly and runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Swallow all of it for me.” I nod and swallow it all down, sticking my tongue out as proof. “Such a good girl.” He looks up at the bed. “Lay down.” I nod and lay on the bed. Jeremy takes it as his turn to fall to his knees. He grabs my ankles and pulls my legs off the bed. He rubs his hands over my knees and up my thighs. “Open” he whispers and like clockwork I open my legs for him, my dress hiking up to expose my clothed cunt.

He softly kisses each one of my knees before kissing up my legs. He smiles up at me before pressing a soft kiss to my core through my panties before pulling them off. He licks a stripe up my cunt, forcing my head to roll back. “This wet for me?” I nod eagerly, “thought so.” His lips connect themselves onto my clit, sucking hard. I moan out and tangle my hands into his hair as I arch my back, pushing myself forward onto his face.

He moves two of his fingers to prod at my hole. He looks up at me as he moves figure eights with his tongue on my clit before pushing his two thick fingers into me. This mere movement pushes me over the edge. I cry out as I cum all over his face. He laughs and pulls away, licking his lips predatorily. He stands up and pulls the dress over my head, leaving both of us completely naked.

He crawls up on the bed, hovering over me to connect our lips once again. I rehome my hands on his back, scratching softly. I moves one of his hands down to align his dick with my cunt. “Ready?” He looks down at me and I nod softly. He nestles his head in my shoulder as he pushes into me. I gasp and dig my fingers into his back. He sits in the same spot for a moment, letting me get used to him before moving.

He grabs my legs and rests them on his shoulders. “Tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” I nod “words.” “Okay, I promise” “good girl” he grasps my thighs and starts moving. I arch my back off the bed in pleasure, moaning out his name repeatedly. It felt as if with every moan he got faster.

He moves his thumb to my clit, rubbing the same pattern he used with his tongue. I grasp my hands to his wrists, not being able to reach anything else. He pounds into me, each thrust harder and faster to the last. “Cum for me, baby” I pinch my eyes shut and squirt on his cock, my juices reaching his stomach. I cover my face in embarrassment. “Don’t do that. Move your hands, now.” I reluctantly move my hands.

“That’s it.” He slams into me, his pace faltering. “W-where do you want it?” I whine out at his words. “In me- want it in me.” The words pushed him over the edge, his warm seed spilling into me. He flops down next to me, catching his breath. After a moment he gets up. “Where are you going?” I furrow my brows “calm down, I’ll be right back” he smiles.

He returns with a warm damp cloth and a glass of ice water. He sets the ice water down in the side table before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. He moves his hand with the cloth down to clean me up. I whine at the feeling, still sensitive. He presses a kiss to my forehead once he’s done, throwing the cloth in his clothes basket before shutting the lights off and crawling into the bed next to me.

He rubs my face softly with his thumb, sighing deeply. “Just one more thing I want you to do before you fall asleep” Jeremy suggests, I furrow my brows at him. He laughs “Will you be my girlfriend?” I smile brightly.

“Yes”

[thegainingdesk]

The Grommr Profile of Dorian Grey

Dorian finished the last chicken wing, delicately wiping his hands with a napkin, before dabbing at the sides of his mouth. “And one hundred!” He beamed at the camera, and rubbed his middle, not-so-subtly lifting his t-shirt to reveal taut, flat six-pack abs. “Guess that will sort me until dinner,” he said with a wink to his audience.

He looked at the comments on his livestream. Most were in awe, as usual, at how much he could eat while maintaining his stick-thin figure and classically handsome good looks. Others, frustratingly, accused him of being a fake - of using some contraption or camera trickery to make the food disappear, of editing in CGI food, of bullimia. He'd done live shows, week-long streams, streams in nothing but his boxers, but nothing would ever convince some of his viewers.

One in particular caught his attention: lol, why are you all commenting like he'll respond? everyone knows he films these over like a week and then edits it together after

Dorian gritted his teeth. “Actually, user WelcomeToMyFistedMind, comment at fifteen thirty-two and eighteen seconds, this is very much live. And actually, I don't think I am done quite yet.” He stood and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a box of two dozen donuts he'd bought for tomorrow's stream. He sat back down and pushed the first one into his mouth, grinning around the custard that oozed out.

Forty-five minutes and twenty-four donuts later, Dorian flashed one last smug grin at the camera and closed twitch. He leant back, lifted up his t-shirt and ran his fingers lazily up and down his treasure-trail, following the center line between his abdominals. Despite the literal pounds of food he'd eaten in the last couple of hours, his stomach was as flat as ever, his twinkish frame showing none of the effects of the food he ate day in, day out.

His channel, MukbangBangYoureDead, had exploded in viewers ever since he started it a few years ago, until he was now one of the most famous mukbangers on the internet. He could not only eat more than all of his competitors, he made it look easy, and all without gaining a pound.

Of course, he had something that they didn't - the deal. He'd been hesitant at first, didn't believe the strange visitor that had come to him one night could or would deliver on its promises. But here he was, years later, making tens of thousands of pounds a month, all without consequence.

Thinking about the deal, he opened Grommr on his phone and brought up his profile. He whistled as he saw the updated weight - 576 pounds. He'd been flirting with 570 for a while now, and was pleased to see how far he'd stepped over that threshold. Time, he thought, for an update for his loyal fans on that platform too.

He pulled his trousers off and threw them to the side, leaving his t-shirt on. He walked to the mirror and admired his toned, pencil-like legs, his lightly muscled arms, the way his t-shirt draped from broad shoulders and tight pecs over his narrow waist, and his large bulge constrained by a designer jock-strap in bright yellow. He raised his phone up and took a picture, and proceeded to take his shirt off. He raised one hand to a lightly-haired pec and gave it a squeeze as he took a second picture. Finally, he lay down on his bed, snaked some long-slender fingers into his waistband, and raised his phone to take another photo from above.

He uploaded the pictures to Grommr without even looking at them - he knew there'd be no point, that they'd look completely different in just a moment or two. They appeared one by one as they uploaded.

Each showed a behemoth of a man. In the first the man stood in a mirror, wearing a t-shirt that cut into fat hanging from his sides and strained to cover large, pendulous breasts. His gut hung out and down, covering his genitals - a small pop of yellow beneath his love handles was the only hint that he was wearing any underwear. The man's face was huge and round, his features almost amorphous. Small, piggy eyes sat above bulbous cheeks, which merged into a ring of fat around his head, his chin a mere dimple in the fat around his neck. Even in the still image, it was clear that the man's arm was straining against its own weight to hold the phone up.

The next photo was much the same. The same morbidly obese figure stood in the same mirror. This time, the pitifully small t-shirt had been discarded to reveal cascading flesh hanging to the side, lying on the mountainous belly. One hand grasped one of the tits, bloated fingers digging into the soft flesh.

In the next, the figure was laid prone. Gravity had pulled down on the soft flesh and caused it to drop down and pool around the figure. The moobs lifted up towards the man's non-existant neck and chin, his gut spread out, his face expanded in all directions. New rolls and folds had formed - where arm met shoulder, where joints bent, or where his gut bunched up against itself. In the brighter lighting, painfully red stretch marks bloomed across the man's skin, circling his thighs, his love handles like loaves, across his dropping breasts. The man's left hand struggled to reach around his gut to grasp at the waistband of a straining jock strap, within which a small bump suggested some long-forgotten nub of a cock, sunk deep within the fat that spilled out around the underwear’s pouch. The man’s face was red, and seemed to strain as he struggled to maneuver his own flesh.

Dorian watched on in boredom as the first few comments rolled in. The usual adoring fans, begging to know the secrets to his titanic weight, proclaiming they’d soon look the same, asking to meet up. He would wait until a few of his regulars sent their customary tips, then go on with the rest of his day. In the meantime, a couple of the comments caused a smile to spread across his angular face.

MayContainDonuts: MealWithTheDevil looking great as ever! I don't know what it is, but he always looks so much like that one mukbang guy? Obviously fatter, but just the eyes and nose and stuff? I wonder if they're related?

BloatGoat: Do you mean MukbangBangYoureDead? If you can find some of his old photos the resemblance is uncanny. People used to think they were the same person but obviously not. Definitely could be related!

Dorian smirked and went to close the app, stopping only to check a small notification that popped up at the top of his screen. There would be routine server maintenance the next day, and the site would be down for around eight hours, starting mid-morning for the UK.

Dorian sighed. He hated server shutdowns, and this would be the longest he'd experienced yet. Still, he had a while to prepare. He'd have to cancel some lunch plans, but he could make up some lie about being ill. He got dressed, stood up and left to go buy enough food for tomorrow.

Dorian paced around his flat nervously the next morning. He checked his watch - 10:01. He quickly tried to bring up Grommr - sure enough, he was met with an error message about the server being down. It would start soon enough.

The first sign of it was his t-shirt. Previously loose, after about five minutes he found he was having to fuss with it to get it to sit right. another five minutes and it had begun riding up around puffy lovehandles and a firm paunch, while his sweatpants were starting to slip down an expanding rear. Another ten minutes and he took the t-shirt off, freeing a large beer gut that bounced when he walked. His sweatpants had grown almost skin tight around hefty thighs and would soon be too tight for comfort. He knew that this was only the start.

The hunger started then; sickly, stabbing pains in his newly expanded gut. He put two pizzas in the oven and sat with a donuts while he waited, knowing that soon his body, and his appetite along with it, would soon be able to accommodate all the food.

Just under thirty minutes in, Dorian's gut started to rest on his lap when he sat. He leant back, the swollen sack of fat at his middle dragging along his lap as he did so, and his cock began to harden. He reached a hand up to scratch the pink stretch marks beginning to form below his budding moobs.

While stuffed to the point of breathlessness just five minutes before, his stomach was still expanding, and he could feel the gnawing hunger begin to creep back in. He belched and stood, tottering slightly at the near-total shift in center of gravity since he’d sat down. He peeled off his sweatpants, struggling past his wide arse and flabby thighs, then gathered as much food as he could in his arms, using the top of his gut as a shelf and cautiously made his way back to his sofa, where he collapsed down, put on a trashy movie, and continued to eat.

Dorian continued to grow as his pile of junk food diminished. He savoured the feeling of soft, supple skin sliding past skin as he swelled - his growing tits pouring out onto his behemoth gut, his underbelly coursing forwards across rotund thighs dimpled with cellulite, his fat pad oozing around his perpetually hard dick. He knew to wait though; the bigger he was, the hotter his eventual orgasm would be.

Dorian looked down and surveyed himself. His body was beginning to be defined by rolls upons rolls. He estimated himself to be around the size he reached last time there was some server downtime; his profile had put on at least a hundred pounds since then. He lifted a heavy arm and used a hand to probe his plush flesh, sighing at the way his newly chubby fingers sank into the fat.

Still, the hunger increased. Dorian tried to lean forward to grab his phone, but found his own sheer bulk resisted him, pushing him back. He spread his legs and allowed his gut to fall down between them, the shift pulling his body forward in his seat and causing a dull ache in his lower back. He picked up his phone and with clumsy sausage-like fingers brought up a delivery app. He allowed instinct and hunger to take over - spring rolls, beef, chilli beef, sweet and sour chicken, duck pancakes, chilli chips, everything he saw he was ravenous for. He'd not been this big before and the hunger was deep. He pressed order, only briefly worrying about how he'd answer the door when he had no clothes that could hope to fit him.

Dorian’s body continued to expand. There was an alienness to his new size; his thighs had to splay around his hanging gut, his arms sat uncomfortably on top of thick pillows of fat at his sides, each joint filled with lard, and most of all was the awareness of gravity, how it pulled at his body and how his body answered in kind by dropping down and down.

Half an hour of nagging hunger later, his doorbell rang. He threw himself forward, but fell back to the sofa. Even that unsuccessful effort left him winded. He rolled to the side, fat cascading over fat as he did so, and staggered to stand sideways, his arms shaking as he heaved with all his might against the sofa. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over him; it barely covered his torso, but it was the best he could do.

How had he never realised how easy walking was before? Now, every step needed to be purposeful and required a conscious effort to propel his weight forwards. He had to wheel each thigh out and around past the other, each one a lead weight to be lifted. Dorian reached the door panting and sweaty, his hips burning with the beginnings of pain. The delivery driver looked on in shock, and then in slow horror. Dorian didn't care, he just grabbed his bags and slammed the door, before making his slow way back to his seat.

As he fell back, the sofa made a loud crunching sound and he felt himself sink deep into the cushions. He shuffled over the other side as best he could, each movement sending shockwaves across his body. He piled his bags into the crater left on the other side of the sofa and ate directly out of them, the table now wholly unreachable.

Dorian suspected he stopped growing around the time that he'd finished his food. If nothing else, the hunger had stopped. His torso had become a series of rolls, each one wrapped around his entire body and piled on top of the next. His limbs had become huge sacks of flesh, spreading out beneath him, the only evidence of his joints small, soft dimples in the thick casing of his body.

Dorian knew he'd waited long enough now. He pushed a stubby paw into the deep fold underneath his gut, reaching for the hard nub of his cock not yet swallowed by his fat pad. It was no use however, the heavy weight of his belly pressing down and closing off his own groin from himself. He leant to the side and spread his thighs, freeing up access and shifting his weight off from his lap, but still his fingers had to squirm past sweaty flesh into the small crevice left of his crotch. He grasped at the hard head of his cock, finding it in a shallow depression of flab nestled in dense pubes. With two fingers he did his best to jerk himself off, but to no avail - there was simply not enough cock left and not enough space to handle it in. Desperate for release he began to thrust, rocking his pelvis back and forth, so that the thick shaft of his penis slid within his own blubber, fucking his own body. He closed his eyes and ignored the tortured groans of the sofa below him as his pleasure grew. It only took a few minutes for him to cum, semen coating his fat pad and thighs as he yelled out.

Dorian slumped back, gasping for air, and exhausted, drifted off into a sleep.

When he woke up, it was dark. He could still feel the weight of his body pulling down. This wasn't right. As slow as it took for the weight to pile on, usually it melted away in seconds once the servers were back online, which should have happened hours ago. He checked the time - 23:24. Had something gone wrong?

He checked Grommr - the site was back up. He tried to log in - nothing. App - no. Browser - no. He tried to type his password in again, fat fingers mashing against the keyboard so that he had to try again slowly, deliberately. Nothing worked. He felt his heart pounding somewhere beneath his bosom.

Finally, he noticed an email in his inbox.

Grommr admin team - lost profile

During our recent scheduled server update, a small number of user profiles were unfortunately lost. We are sorry to tell you that your profile was one of those that we have not been able to recover. We are doing everything we can to recover lost profiles, but we are sadly not…

Dorian stopped reading. He looked down at the acres of flesh that were now his body. He lifted an arm up and let it fall, watching it shake and wobble in the dim light. What would he tell his family? His friends? His fans? This couldn't be happening.

Through his panicked breathing and heavy heartbeat, another feeling began to grow - Dorian Grey was beginning to feel hungry.

[greatwyrmgold]

Dungeon Logistics

Between the currently-airing Dungeon Meshi anime and my recent binge of the manga (I finally got past the 40% mark), I've been thinking about the logistics of long-term dungeoneering.

The Problem

Military theorists and historians have some rules of thumb about what soldiers can be expected to do and need. [citation] For instance, they usually need around three pounds of food per day and can carry around 90-120 pounds of stuff. (The total varies less by strength and more by how much of that strength you can convince soldiers to use carrying stuff the general cares about.)

Theoretically, this means soldiers can carry a month or two of food; however, hardtack makes a pretty terrible weapon. Most of their carrying capacity is taken up by inedible (and also important) gear; the standard rule of thumb seems to be that soldiers can carry about ten days' worth of food.

The same is presumably more or less true for dungeoneers. A wizard's robe, staff, and spellbook probably weigh less than a sword and a suit of armor, but that space is going to get taken up by the miscellaneous tools you need to survive in a dungeon that aren't necessary for armies walking through inhabited lands.

In short, in the absence of Senshi, dungeoneers can only spend about a week and a half in the dungeon. Obviously, you need to set aside time to return to the surface, so you can't go deeper than five days. Well, you can—starvation doesn't kill you instantly—but you really shouldn't.

Extra Cargo

What if we added some people who only carried food? That would help some. Including two porters per three dungeoneers would roughly double the group's operational endurance, from ten days to twenty.

But the number of porters grows rapidly as the desired trip into the dungeon grows longer; operational endurance to 30 days requires four porters per dungeoneer. Even if the dungeon is spacious for a party of dozens to be possible, having that party be 80% or more noncombatants is a recipe for disaster.

What about pack animals? Mules require about five times as much food as humans (assuming they can't graze in the dungeon), but they can carry close to 300 pounds of supplies. One mule per three dungeoneers extends operational endurance from 10 to 15 days, a second to 17.

That's not bad, but pack animals work better when they can graze. If the dungeon has grass or equivalent foliage, one mule per three dungeoneers increases operational endurance to about 26 days, a second to 35, and one mule per dungeoneer increases it to 39. But most dungeons don't have much to graze on.

For the spendthrift dungeoneer, pack animals have one advantage over porters: You can eat them.

Butchery

I can't find any actual data about how much meat you get from butchering a mule, but combining other data lets me estimate 300 pounds (with large error bars).

So you could theoretically buy a (relatively) cheap mule at the surface, bring it with you through the dungeon, butcher it when you'd eaten through the supplies on its back, and live off its meat for a while. In this case, you probably don't even need to feed it on the way down! I have been informed that you do, in fact, need to feed it.

Five dungeoneers could live off the supplies carried by an increasingly malnourished mule for about 19 9.5 days. The mule would probably lose weight during that time, but the butcher could probably get at least a hundred pounds of decent meat off the poor critter. That would give them at least a week of extra rations, plus whatever they carried on their own backs, for a total operational endurance of at least five three and a half weeks.

This strategy probably works best if the adventurers are planning to go establish a camp after a few days and linger there for a few weeks. That would let them slaughter the mule as soon as they reach their base camp and free them from somehow carrying a whole mule carcass worth of food around afterwards.

This kind of strategy could enable supply depots relatively close to the surface. If we increase the party from five dungeoneers and a mule to five merchants and twenty mules, they could supply adventurers going a bit deeper. They'd need to charge a pretty hefty surcharge—at the very least, they'd need to cover the cost of killing so many mules!

It's also possible to create supply depots without slaughtering pack animals, but they would need to be smaller, closer to the surface, or both.

It would, strictly speaking, be possible to make a deeper supply depot, supplied by a larger depot. It would probably be impractical, though.

Conclusion

Dungeoneers weighed down by their own equipment can only spend brief periods of time exploring a dungeon. If they include some porters or pack animals in the party, they can increase that to maybe a month (two weeks down, two weeks up).

A sufficiently profitable dungeon economy might enable a set of outposts where adventurers can rest and resupply between treks deeper into the dungeon. If enough pack animals were slaughtered, they might be able to bring supplies a week or two deeper than the surface market.

In the right circumstances, dungeoneers might be able to delve a full month below the sunlit world without eating anything except wheat bread and mule meat. But this requires a small army of merchants and herdsmen and porters and butchers and so on, feeding not just the dungeoneers themselves but all the people supporting them, and all the people supporting those people, reaching through countless miles of cavern and across acres of farmland.

And of course, all of that assumes that no step in this process gets disrupted by the dangers of a dungeon; no wargs killing your mule, no warg packs overrunning the outpost, no getting lost in the twisty little maze of passages all alike. The higher you build that house of cards, the farther you'll far if it fails.

Senshi had the right idea.

[the-fiction-witch]

Sugar Lump

Media - The Artful Dodger Character - Doctor Jack Dawkins Couple - Jack X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sweet AF + Smutty Word Count - 3278

I hurried my way up the stairs of the Port Victory Royal Hospital, when I reached the familiar brown door I adjusted my little Y/E/C dress perfectly picked out to match my eyes, I fixed my hair a little and headed inside the room. Seeing it much like usual filled with his dusty trinkets and books tools and clothes strewn about, Jack lay in his bed still dressed his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. 

So I gave a sweet smile, "Evening," 

"Not in the mood Y/n."

"Oh... why not?"

"I have had a very long day, and night, and... week at this point," He sighed,

"Oh," I sighed, "You poor thing," I sat down on his bed and set my hand on his waistcoat gently massaging his chest as he laid there and slowly a content smile slowly crawled onto his lips, 

"How are you so good at this?"

"At what?"

"Dealing with me honey,"

"Men are simple creatures, rub their bellies, give them treats, scratch behind their ears." I laughed, "you're like a puppy," I teased,

"Careful I might start slobbering all over you?" he raised an eyebrow,

"I'd rather that than you trying to hump my leg, Jack," 

We both laughed for a moment but it settled into the usual tense silence, I wanted to say so much but as usual, I didn't say anything.  But I forced myself to break this silence after what felt like an hour, "So..." I said, "What's troubling you, my little sugar lump?" 

"it's complicated," he sighed sitting up putting his elbows on his knees and picking at his nails which I quickly stopped by taking his hand, 

"You can tell me anything you know that,"

"I know honey," He squeezed my hand back, "... I have a twenty-six-pound debt on my head, and if I don't pay it back by Friday... I get my hand chopped off," 

Silence settled again this time more understandable, I glanced down to his hand in mine and I perished at the thought of such a loss. I tried to break the silence with a joke in the hope to cheer him up,

"Which one?"

"My choice," 

"Well... that's something," I nodded, "Any thoughts on which hand you might choose?"

"Y/n," He pulled his hand away from mine picking his nails again, "I'm a surgeon honey, no matter which hand he takes I'm fucked. I need both my hands."

"I know sugar lump, I know," I cooed resting my head on his shoulder a little, "How much money do you have?"

he chuckled, "Two pounds, eight shillings and fourpence," 

"Ah... well... that's a problem," I sighed, "How long would it take you to earn twenty-six pounds?"

He rubbed his face, "Uhhhh four hundred years," He said, 

"What? But you always have money? I mean... you're never rolling in strawberry baths eating roast duck on truffle salad," I joked, "But you always have some money kicking around?"

"Honey I get paid in buttons and fimbles," He sighed, "I make a... float of money of poker but thats what got me into this mess, everyone knows I've got a debt with Darius so they won't play with me. Besides I'd have to be doing some kinda mad three-card tricks to make twenty-six pounds of the people in this town," 

I sighed, "It'll be okay sugar lump, you'll figure it out. You always do." I encouraged, 

"Thanks, Y/n," He took my hand again, 

"You're welcome Jack," I smiled giving his forehead a small kiss which turned us both a little red,

"Did uhh did you mean do to that?"

"Uhhh no, no I uhh just wanted to cheer you up is all," I shrugged,

"Well, it did work," He nodded, "Why do you call me what anyway?"

"What?"

"Sugarlump?"

"I don't know, you're sweet, sugary sometimes, you feel kinda square to hug,"

"Hey!"

"And you're kinda expensive,"

"Can't really fault your logic,"

"Why do you call me honey?"

"Because your sweet, always around whenever I get the desire to see you, you always seem to stick to me," he chuckled moving his shoulder a little to move my head, "Plus your hair," he smiled running a hand through my Y/H/C hair, 

I blushed and for a moment we met eyes I wanted to lean forward and kiss him as I had wanted to for so long but we broke away both blushing a little more. 

I felt my stomach sink to my feet, and my heart rise to my throat. This was a terrible idea but I was out of ideas, I had been doing everything I could to help Jack find some money, having to go off on wild adventures while he was working trying to earn what little he could in the surgical theatre, but options where low and so where the funds. I held my breath a moment as I stood behind the hung sheets from the laundrette, I watched the target I had picked out. The glimmer of her gold and emerald necklace and bracelet glinted in the Australian sun, ripe for the taking as she walked with her parasol in one hand and her arm with her husband. I let out a breath and began my walk down the street holding the hem of my dress as I did, I counted the seconds and saw them stop at a market stall selling fresh fruits, so I took my chance, I kicked the door off the bottom crate beside the stall across from them, setting loose the six chickens mad from their tiny enclosed crate. They squealed and began to run around the market pecking at anything in their reach, everyone panicked and began to get away from them, I ran across the street and squealed.

"Ahhh!" I screamed faking like I had been pecked, 

"My goodness!" The woman gasped, "Harold darling, help the poor girl," she demanded,

"Come here young lady, you'll be safe," Her husband ushered me up onto a market stalls box with his wife, 

"Thank you, sir," I told him accepting his help, quickly in the panic I snagged her bracelet off her wrist, and into my pocket, the necklace was a little harder given the clasp under her hair but the clasp was cheap recently replaced so I snapped it and stuffed it down my pocket before I could be caught, Once I had them I kicked the box we stood on sending a woman and me tumbling into the dirt, of course, her husband came to help her and in the panic, I scampered away as fast as I could. 

Once I knew I was safe I took a breath, I did feel bad about what I had done the guilt seemed to burn in my pocket but she was a wealthy woman with a businessman husband, he could just buy her more fancy jewellery, she would never miss these. Jack needs the money and his hand more than she needs a necklace. Maybe one day god forbid one of those two needs surgery, they'll be begging Jack to have both his hands then. I made my way through the streets to the Cat and Bagpipes where I saw Rotty at the bar.

"Afternoon," I told her,

"Afternoon?" She raised an eyebrow, "What are you after?"

"I uhh wanted a word," I told her, 

She nodded and brought me back to the rooms where her girls live, the many barmaids and lap warmers she employed, "what is it then? not often we get a girl like you around here,"

"I uhhh... I uhh I need some money," I told her,

She looked me up and down once more, "I can get you work, ready too... pretty thing like you," 

"No, no I uhh..."

"No shame in it girl, you'd be surprised the coins you'd make on a good night with a fresh load of sailors in the bar," 

"No, thank you," I told her, "I have this," I revealed the bracelet, 

"Ohh... I see," she nodded trying to take it but I held it back, "Let me see little girl,"

I begrudgingly handed it over, she looked it over a few times and smiled wickedly, 

"Very beautiful, real stones too... How much where do you want?"

"How much would you give me?"

"...I'd give you a solid seven pounds. Maybe eight."

"What about twenty-six?"

"You must be joking!" She scoffed, 

"What about now?" I asked showing the necklace, 

"Twenty-six will be just fine," she nodded, handing me the bracelet back and heading to fetch the money, "Where did a pretty little thing like you get that then?"

"That's my business,"

"Alright, what do you need the money for?"

"That's my bus-"

"I know, but come on young thing like you coming in here ready to sell off some emeralds for twenty-six quid? something tells me you're not after a new wardrobe?" she laughed, 

"No, I'm not," I answered,

"You know... I heard about a debt of twenty-six pounds floating around town. That doctor's got his hand in for it for betting what he didn't have ... so I heard?" I didn't answer her, "And correct me if I'm wrong... old lady, my eyes are going but... I could say I've seen yourself around the doctor Dawkins more than once?" She smirked at me, 

I gulped, "Well I uhh I umm..."

"That's your business," She smirked, Handing me the money so I could give her the jewellery, "I'd hurry up if I were you, his debts with Darius and he never waits to get his money," 

I nodded and quickly hurried my way back towards the hospital but I heard a familiar voice,

"No! No please!" Jack was yelling out, 

So I turned on my heels and bolted in the direction of the building work on West Street, where I saw Darius, his men, and Jack. 

Darius stood as pompous as usual, his men had Jack pinned to the floor with his hand on a block ready for the chop, 

"For god's sake, Man! I cannot perform surgery without both of my hands!" Jack protested, 

"It's a shame you didn't factor that before you took up cards, Jack," Darius smirked, "You owe me what you owe me, and it's considerable... 

"I give you my word, I will have the funds... soon," Jack reasoned,

"You think I trust you?" He smirked grabbing another taken hand, "I took this hand from another welcher this morning, I have rules see. So do you or do you not have my money, in full?"

"I do not.... but-"

"Take his hand,"

"No!" Jack tried to squirm away as Darius' men readied the cleaver, 

"No! Please!" I bolted over and stood between them, 

"Y/n!" Jack yelped as he saw me, "What are you doing here!"

"Helping," 

"I don't think you are going to be much help here,"

"And you are?!"

"I'm... working on it, honey,"

"Badly." I snapped, "I know you are a stubborn little sugar lump but sometimes you need help," I told him off,

"I don't take pleas, sweetheart, he owes me a good deal. And as sweet as your words maybe they won't repay his debts," Daruis told me,

"I know," I gulped, 

he chuckled, "Come to offer yourself then? I'm sure I could figure out some ways to get Twenty-six pounds out of you," He smirked fixing some of my hair behind my ear, 

"Don't. You. Dare." Jack warned him through gritted teeth, 

"I have come to clear his debts," I nodded,

"Have you now?" Daruis smirked, 

"Y/n... no... you, you can't," Jack pleaded, 

"You hand or her hole," Darius growled, 

"Hand! Hand. Take my hand." Jack answered,

"Jack!" I yelled, 

"I am not letting that happen to you honey," He told me, 

"If you just-" I began, 

"Well then, make your choice... left or right Jack?" Darius smirked, "Personally I'd pick whichever hand you slap her on the ass with," He smirked pinching my bottom and making me squeal, "Or whichever of her tits you prefer," 

"whichever hand I have after this I am going to deck you with the other," Jack told him, 

His men once again went to move the cleaver but I again stopped them,

"No! I can pay his debts," I said, "His debt is twenty-six pounds right?" 

"Well..." Daruis glanced at one of his men,

"Twenty-five pounds nine shillings and six pennies," his man answered,

"So Twenty-six for easy maths," I sighed, "Here," I told him handing him over the money, 

He raised an eyebrow and so did Jack honestly, Daruis counted it all up and seemed disappointed, "Fine, debts paid up. Have a nice day." he smirked taking his men and heading away, 

"There all done-" I smiled helping Jack to his feet but the moment I did he held me tight and kissed my lips with a firey passion, I blushed hard but happily kissed him back with a wide smile, until we pulled away, "did uhh did you mean to do that?" I asked, 

"Yes, yes I did, I very very much did," he said getting teary and kissing all over my face, 

"Jack!" I laughed pushing him back,

"How did you get that much money!?"

"It doesn't matter,"

"It very much does honey,"

"Don't worry your sweet little head about it sugar lump," I smiled cuddling into his chest,"

"You didn't have to... you know, did you?"

"No, I didn't,"

"Good, it would break my heart to think you went through that for me, but what did you do?" He cooed stroking my hair, 

"Borrowed some things,"

"Borrowed?" He raised an eyebrow, "That my kinda borrow, or your kinda borrow?"

"...Yours,"

"My- Ohh... You- stole... for me?"

"Of course I did, I couldn't let you get your hand chopped off,"

"Awww I love you, honey!"

"You- you do?"

"Of course I do, I should have told you years ago," He smiled, "sorry I uh..."

"I love you too,"

"You- you do!"

"of course I do!" I giggled almost crying I was so happy we shared another sweet this time a tears of joy-stained kiss before we pulled back unable to leave each other's arms, 

"I love you so much honey," He rubbed his nose on mine,

"I love you too sugar lump," I cooed,

"Come on, we have a lot of time and kisses to make up for," He cooed as we began our way back to the hospital, 

I woke with a long yawn as the morning light forced me awake but I felt so happy and warm wrapped up in the bed with Jack beside me, his arms around me tightly peppering little kisses against my skin,

I chuckled, "Good morning,"

"Good morning," He muttered between kisses, "Um come here honey," He cooed pulling me into a kiss, I happily kissed him back enjoying the soft gentle laziness of morning kisses, until I noticed his wandering hands one slid under my nightie and grabbed my ass the other down my shoulder and cupped my breast, I pulled away and glared a little at his wondering adventurous hands, 

"Excuse me?" I chuckled,

"What?" He smirked, 

"What are you up to sugar lump," I teased him,

"Enjoying... still having both my hands," He smirked as he squeezed me,

"Jack!" I giggled, "That is not a reason to go fondling!" 

"Humm yes it is," he smirked returning to our kisses, 

But we both stopped short as a loud clattering came from downstairs, 

"Oh shit-" he sighed, jumping out of bed and getting some clothes on, I got my dress on too and ran down with him braiding my hair as I went the hospital was filled with soldiers who were upturning the place.

"What the hell is going on!" Jack complained, 

"Ahh Doctor Dawkins, just the man I was looking for," Captain Gains smirked on approach, 

"Captain, would you like to tell me why you are tearing apart my hospital!" 

"I'd be delighted, Take her!" He ordered,

"What?!" I gulped and two soldiers grabbed me by the arms making me scream, 

"Get off her!" Jack tried to pull me away but they were too strong, "Unhand her immediately!" he demanded, "What is going on!" 

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your... female companion, is a theif," 

"You have no proof of this! How are you arresting her on this lie!" Jack yelled, "Now let her go now!"

"Oh, we have proof." Captain Gains smirked, as he pulled the necklace and bracelet from his pocket, "This familiar to you Miss?"

"That doesn't prove anything," Jack attempted to defend me,

"We have a trusted source she traded these in for twenty-six pounds cash. for unknown reasons,"

Jack looked at me and we both knew, I didn't answer I knew I didn't have a case, "Doesn't mean she stole them,"

"Mrs Oslington?" Captain Gains called, 

She came down the corridor and we met eyes, the woman I had stolen them from. "That's her. That's the little theif." 

"And as you full well know, thieves in my colony hang." Captain Gains smirked at me, "Take her away,"

"No! No please!" I begged,

"No! Let her go! Let her go! I demand that you release her! you are not taking her!" Jack battled with the men as they forced me out Jack followed behind trying to please them, stop them, anything he could but it was too late "... Y/n!" 

I sat in the small stone cell watching the moon move across my window, soon it would be gone completely, and when the sun rose... I'd go to the gallows. I hadn't stopped crying to think this would be my end, but... I was somewhat happy, I didn't regret what I did. Not for a moment. I'm just happy Jack's okay. and safe. or at least as much as I can make him. I didn't feel like a horrid little theif as they had labelled me. I did what I had to do, and my soul felt clean. 

I heard footsteps so I perked up a little confused how it could be so late, but I saw Jack.

"Hi, Honey,"

"What are you doing here!" I jumped to the bars and we shared a sweet kiss between them,

"I couldn't just leave you," 

"Thats so sweet of you sugar lump, but... you should go the soldiers-"

"We have time.," He said moving to his knees, his hands moving my dress a little "Chloraphom," he shrugged,

"... I don't think we have that much time Jack, I know you're going to miss me sugar lump but I don't think these bars are quite going to make this work,"

"... I adore your enthusiasm Y/n, but not what I'm doing," he chuckled using my dress as a cover as he began picking the lock,

"Ooh..." I nodded, "What are you doing?!"

"Getting you off." He said, "Well out." he corrected, "I can get you off later honey," He winked as he worked, 

"You mean it?"

"Of course, I am not going to let the woman I love rot in a cell for stealing some old cunts necklace just because she was trying to save my hand, Let alone Hang for it." He explained, 

"But what are we going to do they'll just arrest me again!"

"Not likely," He said, "I've packed our things, all of them. There is a ship bound for the Pacific islands on the tide." he explained cracking the lock and opening up the door to my cell where I all but fell into his arms, "You and I are leaving, going where no one knows anything about our past, a whole fresh start, in the sunshine, we can start our hospital, get married, raise little adorable children by the crystal blue water." He explained stroking my hair, "Come with me honey, Please."

I teared up and pulled him into a sweet kiss, "I want nothing more in this world my little sugar lump," I cried,

"I love you, Y/n, so so much,"

"I love you too Jack,"

"Come on, before the guards wake up." He smiled, "We have a whole new life to build," 

I nodded and we linked our hands tightly sneaking our way out of the jail, and out of Port Victory. 

[feeder86]

Falling for a Feeder: Part 2: Infinity

That evening, Lucas lay there on the giant couch like a beached whale. His enormous, fleshy belly had long since slipped out of his shapeless t-shirt and was draped across the cushions; with sweat leaching from the bare skin due to the summer heat. He’d never been particularly tall, and so the prospect of being over four hundred and thirty pounds had felt like a fantasy in those early days. He’d had to learn to consume so many calories, to step back from overdoing it with the exercise. Now it was all second nature. 

Getting up off the couch was an unpleasant thought. There would have to be stages to it. He’d have to use his arms to support himself and try to swing his body in the right way to keep the momentum so that it wouldn’t be too exhausting. He knew what people thought of him: that he was gross and disgusting. But he had never imagined that Talon would feel those things too: that he could ever get too fat, too greedy and lazy. Yet, he hadn’t seen Talon in days. In fact, the handsome man who had started all this wasn’t even returning his calls. 

Lucas felt so alone, and yet, so desperately hungry.

Three Years Earlier

“When are we going to tell people about us?” Lucas asked, feeling content and stuffed; his head resting on Talon’s large, strapping chest. It was a question that had sat at the front of his mind for some time, given that Talon had started to talk about them getting their own place at some point in the future. “I mean, this might be a little confusing for people, you suddenly dating a guy. I’d understand if you’re not ready.”

“Do you think I’m embarrassed to be your boyfriend?” Talon asked, immediately concerned.

“No. I’m just saying…” Lucas replied, “...I would understand if you did.”

“I can’t wait to tell people about us,” Talon insisted, lifting an overfed Lucas off his chest so that he could look him in the eyes. “It’s you I’m thinking about. Have you really thought about it? Everyone suddenly knowing that we’re an item? I’ve not exactly been quiet about my… preferences,” he explained. “It’s already getting quite obvious that you’re carrying a good few extra pounds,” he noted, grabbing an actual handful of fat that had spread from Lucas’ doughy butt and onto his hips. “It’s not going to be hard for people to join the dots once they realise that we’re an item.” He sighed, as if he regretted something very deeply. “Are you really ready for that sort of judgement?”

It almost felt inappropriate to become so instantly aroused. Talon seemed so earnest and concerned for him, yet Lucas had made his peace with it all quite some time ago. He now looked forward to people passing comment on his weight, knowing how excited it would make the two of them afterwards. “You really think it’s obvious to people that I’m getting fat?” he asked with a broad smile.

Talon smiled too, seeming to relax. “Maybe…” he teased, moving his hand up to stroke the puffy fatness at Lucas’ side; fat that would soon fold the skin enough to become full-on love handles.

“You’re right. Once we tell people that we’re together, they’re going to know exactly why I’ve put on so much weight; that I’ve been fattened up. I’m going to be under more scrutiny than ever.”

Talon simply looked up at him sympathetically, making an excellent job of containing his excitement for the idea of everyone seeing all the hard work he had put into ensuring that Lucas continued to pile on the pounds.

“I want to be your fatty,” Lucas stated with lustful certainty. “I’m ready for everyone to know,” he nodded. “I’m so excited for them all to watch me growing fatter and softer for you every single day.”

“Oh yeah?” Talon smirked, raising his eyebrows and getting very much aroused himself, as Lucas lay on top of him and started kissing his lips. He slipped his large hands onto Lucas’ butt cheeks, unable to resist squeezing their doughy fleshiness; gently bouncing and spreading them like the horny twenty year old that he was, knowing that they were about to have sex for the third time that morning. “Let’s tell them all then,” he growled with lust. “Let’s make sure that absolutely everyone knows that you’re my fat little piggy!”

It turned out that Talon had been exactly right. Once people realised that Lucas and the muscular hunk were an item, everything seemed to change. He sensed the whispering behind their backs. The disapproval was obvious; from the guys who felt Lucas had turned their buddy gay, to the oblivious few who looked at Lucas’ increasingly chubby appearance and wondered how he had bagged a guy who was now so far out of his league. Even Jay had given Lucas a friendly word of warning about dating a guy like Talon; still laughably oblivious to the fact that he himself was dating a highly effective feeder.

Lucas, who hadn’t been home in weeks, decided that he couldn’t wait any longer to take Talon back to meet his parents, now that they were an official item. Despite his joy at fattening, he still squirmed the entire way there, wondering just how his family would react to seeing him carrying so much extra weight. 

Indeed, although Talon found complete bliss in watching Lucas expand, he had understood his boyfriend’s concerns entirely; helping his boy to pick out clothes that worked to conceal as many of the excess pounds as possible. He stood next to Lucas the entire time, holding his hand and giving him courage as they walked into the house for the first time. Immediately, everyone had rushed around them in excitement to meet Lucas’ new boyfriend, with Talon’s strapping stature taking most of the focus; Lucas’ mother and auntie looking instantly quite smitten.

Talon had such an engaging personality. It was the reason why he was so well known and liked across the college campus. He had a way of engaging with absolutely everyone; knowledgeable about such a wide range of subjects, he could always find a way to tap into others’ interests and chat for hours with them. Lucas had slipped off to bed, leaving his new boyfriend speaking at length about fishing, of all things, with his dad and older brother; laughing at the fact that the handsome boy had already been invited along to go to the lake with them the next morning.

“I think my parents might like you!” Lucas chuckled in amusement as he and Talon finally got some time alone together that Saturday afternoon, after the highly successful fishing trip was done with.

Talon smirked. Despite how easily people seemed to take to him, there was no doubt that the guy knew exactly what he was doing. Charm was a skill that Talon had mastered better than anyone Lucas had ever known. “I think I’ve got them on side,” he nodded. “Of course,” he grinned, looking over his shoulder to check that no one was within ear shot. “It’s all smoke and mirrors. All I’m doing is distracting them from the fact that I’m turning their good-looing son into my own beautiful, fat piggy,” he teased, making Lucas laugh with pleasure. “Did anyone comment on how many times I cut some of your aunt’s birthday cake for you last night?” he asked, knowing that Lucas had had more than enough time that morning to discuss him with his mother and aunt.

“They just think you’re sweet and attentive,” Lucas nodded, laughing again at how easily Talon was getting away with it all.

“Sweet and attentive, that’s me,” Talon joked. “Not a wicked, evil feeder at all…” he whispered into his boyfriend’s ear, whilst simultaneously reaching under the loose fitting t-shirt to grab at the building softness underneath.

By the end of the afternoon, Lucas was feeling a lot more confident in his thicker body around his family. Talon had pushed him to go into the back yard for a swim together, meaning that everyone would have an unfiltered view of his swollen form. He’d not wanted to go, but Talon had cleverly reassured him that it would all be fine. It was only with some reluctance that Lucas had gone through with it, forgetting that Talon had his ultimate weapon to help Lucas avoid the judgemental eyes of his family. If any man in the entire world could pull off a tiny pair of swim shorts, it was Talon. Lucas sometimes took it for granted just how insanely impressive the guy’s body was. However, it was clear by the open mouths of everyone in Lucas’ family that they were paying a lot more attention to Talon than they were his own softened shape. A mixture of awe, admiration and jealousy, Talon revelled in the quiet attention he was getting; hopping in and out of the pool for any reason at all; bringing drinks and snacks for Lucas as he lazily drifted around the shallow end, enjoying the sun.

After drying off, Talon’s smirk was hard to miss, so pleased was he that his plan had worked flawlessly. “I don’t think that anyone even noticed that I fed you almost a thousand calories in sodas and snacks whilst we were out there,” he chuckled, rubbing the distended stomach on his boyfriend.

Footsteps were heard and Talon quickly retreated, posing with his arm over Lucas’ shoulder as his dad walked into the room. “Hey, Talon,” he called, not even looking at his own son. “My buddy thinks he can get us an extra ticket for the game tonight. You wanna come? I’d love for them to meet you.”

“Oh, man!” Talon sighed regretfully. “I’d love to, but I just promised Lucas that I’d take him out for food tonight,” he lied. “I read about some awesome dessert place downtown and figured that he deserves a treat,” he continued, deliberately rubbing Lucas’ back in just the same, comforting way that he did whenever his chubby boyfriend was trying to push down a calorie shake for him. 

“You sure? They’re pretty great seats!” Lucas’ dad tried, sounding bitterly disappointed to be missing out on spending time with his new best friend.

“Sorry,” Talon replied, suddenly bold enough to reach down and rub Lucas’ fatter, swollen ass, even in front of his father. “When I make a promise to your handome son, I never break it....”

The second true test of their status as a real couple came as Talon invited Lucas along to his cousin’s wedding. Having travelled down on the Friday, they’d had time to meet up with the strapping boy’s family beforehand. They met at a particularly classy restaurant and Lucas began to see that Talon’s family had a lot more money than he had first assumed. With two accomplished brothers, it was clear that Talon wasn’t the only smart one in his family. The brothers were at least ten years older, but handsome men nonetheless; sat together with their attractive, pretty wives, they peered around with interest as Lucas walked in with the muscular Talon. There were looks, of course there were; secret knowing glances between them all, putting Lucas a bit on edge. 

“You really hit the weights hard this year, huh?” asked Mike, the oldest brother, who was also a lawyer, squeezing his hand over Talon’s large shoulder as if to feel the changes for himself. 

Despite the smiles and warm words, Lucas detected a strange sibling rivalry and hostility between Talon and his brothers. Even with his flawless charm, Lucas could always tell when Talon didn’t really like someone.

“And you must be Lucas?” the other brother nodded politely, shaking him by the hand as if conducting an official meeting; immediately introducing himself as a doctor of physics in a Californian university, alongside his wife. It was also the place where Talon’s father had worked for many years as professor; yet another impressive fact about Talon’s family that Lucas had never learned; alongside the revelation that their mother had been a successful novelist for decades.

Talon was clearly the baby of the family and, as it transpired, the one that they all considered to be the uncontrollable black sheep. Within no time at all, the brothers were dragging up stories of Talon’s exploits as a kid. It was obvious that Lucas’ new boyfriend had always had a devious streak to him, never one to play by the rules; the tales making them all laugh with glee. Lucas could picture the man he loved so dearly in each story. Talon hadn’t changed in the slightest!

The wine was flowing and everyone was soon loosening up. Lucas felt like he wanted to make a good impression with Talon’s parents. However, much like Talon, the brothers were such big personalities; it was hard for anyone else to make an impact on the conversation.

“I’ve got to say,” Mike began, looking directly at Lucas, “you’re not at all how we pictured you.”

Slightly taken aback, Lucas smiled awkwardly. “How so?” he asked.

“Well, you’re at least a hundred pounds lighter for a start,” he laughed, not noticing the awkward way the rest of the family were looking around at each other as the words tumbled from his mouth. “Do you remember that girl Talon fell in love with at the end of high school? Cammy? Casey?” he pondered, eventually giving up as no one jumped in to help. “Talon was so into her. Do you remember?” he asked the table. “There’s a picture of them going off to their prom together. She was massive!” he laughed. “Then there was that girl who looked like a beach ball that he brought home during his gap year before college…” Mike blindly went on.

“I’ll stop you right there,” Talon jumped in calmly. “If you think this is meant to embarrass me in front of Lucas, you’re wrong. He already knows about all those other relationships. We don’t keep things like that from each other.”

“Mike wasn’t trying to…” Talon’s mother jumped in, clearly well used to playing the peacekeeper.

“Let’s ask Lucas then, shall we?” Mike cut in obnoxiously; thinly disguising his dislike of his brother with a smug smile. “How do you feel, dating a creepy chubby chaser? I’m sure it must be every gay guy’s dream?” he snorted sarcastically.

Lucas looked around the table: the older, retired and distinguished parents; the good looking brothers, accomplished and successful, with their typically beautiful wives and their equally exciting careers. Talon didn’t fit in with a family like this. He was the square peg in a very round hole. All the stories from earlier now made complete sense. Talon really was the black sheep of the family; how could he not be? He was, and always would be, the naughty one, with mischief and wickedness twinkling in his eyes. He clearly enjoyed it, pushing the boundaries and expectations of this otherwise perfect family that couldn’t understand him, and it was a role that he played entirely for his own amusement. If arrogant Mike had thought he could embarrass his brother, he clearly didn’t know him at all. Talon was the one person in the whole world who felt no shame at all for being entirely who he was.

“Actually, I’ve been putting on a lot of weight since Talon and I got together,” Lucas stated simply, rubbing his smooth stomach as if to demonstrate to the family that he was really a lot softer and fatter than they may have expected from the loose fit of his shirt. He felt Talon’s hand slide affectionately onto his thigh and Lucas turned to look at his handsome boyfriend, smiling with pride. “It’s something Talon and I have been enjoying a lot.”

The arrogant brother had been stunned into silence, whilst others looked down awkwardly or stared at the two of them, wondering what on earth they meant.

“I’m taking Lucas out for more dessert after this,” Talon added. “He’s got an amazing sweet tooth,” he continued, joining Lucas to affectionately rub his little tummy and even give it a small pinch. “As you can all probably tell!”

Still there was silence around the table, something the waiter noticed as he walked by, asking them if they were ready for the check.

“Thank you,” Talon mouthed to Lucas as soon as the attention was diverted away from them. He couldn’t have looked prouder or more in love if he had tried. Not only did he have someone who shared his sense of humour and passions, he also had a guy who understood him completely. Anyone who could out themselves as a gainer to his parents upon the first time of meeting them, was definitely a keeper in Talon’s eyes.

Waking up in the hotel room the next morning, Talon and Lucas had both become so aroused as they realised the dress pants from Lucas’ suit were never going to button, and that even the jacket was too tight to button properly. Despite how well most of his clothes had been hiding it, it was obvious now that Lucas’ ass had been quietly blowing up a lot more than either of them had realised, making them laugh how, even when sucking in hard, the greedy boy couldn’t even come close to buttoning them up.

But as Talon went off to get showered, Lucas was faced with the awkward job of actually having to find an alternative to wear that day, even with the limited amount of items left in his weekend bag. He cursed himself, having spilt chocolate milkshake all down his shirt and pants from the night before, eliminating those entirely. The only other smart pants he had with him just about buttoned up after quite some effort. However, they were an extremely snug fit, with an unflattering cut now that he was carrying more than a few extra pounds on his rear. Lucas had only packed them in the hopes of turning Talon on during their long drive home in the car they’d borrowed from one of their housemates. 

“Oh, Talon! What am I going to do?” Lucas fretted. “I don’t think I can wear these either, and there’s nothing else that’s left in my bag. Just look at me!”

Gazing over at his boyfriend’s face as he returned from the bathroom, Lucas could clearly tell that Talon had left the building. His eyes had misted over with lust and his jaw was slack, as if his brain simply could not function any longer. “You look amazing!” he growled with lust, already dressed up in his fitted, smart, stylish and sexy suit.

“Look at how it stretches over my ass though,” Lucas pointed, feeling genuinely concerned. “I don’t know how well I will even be able to walk. You can even see the outline of my dick in them!” he gasped, feeling almost panicky at how much of his gains people would be forced to see at this super expensive wedding.

“You looking fucking awesome!” Talon whispered into his ear, coming closer and feeling up his body in all the fleshier spots that Lucas knew the bad pants and tight shirt exposed so much.

“Talon, I’m serious!” the chubby guy protested, as his man unbuttoned tortured pants and started tugging on Lucas’ dick as they gazed at his reflection in the mirror. 

“So am I,” Talon growled, briefly stepping back to throw his jacket off, then unstrap his own belt and lower his zipper, pulling out his immortal erection that had already been inside Lucas that morning. Talon knew exactly what Lucas liked, making the chub shudder with pleasure within moments of first tugging them both off together.

Within no time at all, Talon was manouevering his boyfriend over to the opposite side of the room, lifting him with the strength of three men and laying him down on the top of the desk that was there. He unbuttoned Lucas’ shirt, sighing with awe as he saw the fatty torso before him: so perfect, so fat. 

Lucas moaned on the table top as he felt Talon’s large hand sliding up and down his hardness. In return, he grabbed at his boyfriend’s erection and did the same. He stared across the room, able to see the sexy reflection of them both in the mirror; Talon’s extremely broad back and large arms; his sexy, tight ass, still inside his dress pants and moving slightly as he thrusted a little in time with Lucas’ hand work; his strong hips moving in and out.

“Promise me that you’ll wear those pants today,” Talon moaned with lust. Lucas could tell that the hunk wasn’t going to last long before climaxing. But, then again, neither was he.

“But I’m too fat for them,” he breathed lustfully back.

“You’re way too fat for them,” Talon agreed with delight. “That’s what’s got me so fucking horny!”

Lucas moaned even louder. There was little else that got him more aroused than hearing Talon tell him how fat he was looking.

“I want everyone to see how soft and doughy you are,” Talon stated, almost aggressively, as his orgasm started to build. “Promise me you’ll wear them.”

By that point, Lucas was already climaxing; squirting all over his torso. “I promise!” he screamed, pleased that he was even able to scramble a response back at all. However, it made Talon moan louder than he had ever heard before, and Lucas suspected, quite rightly, that he might have just given the kinky boy one of the best orgasms of his life.

They’d only just made it on time for the wedding; with the extreme eroticism of their morning ruining their timetable. Even now, the arousal of the two boys was practically leaching off their bodies.

Lucas had squirmed in his shirt on the walk down to the venue. It had been generously sized earlier in the gains, but now it stretched across his bloated middle, with a little awkwardness. Even the collar seemed too tight, as a fresh, pudgy, puffiness was beginning to take over his face. 

Fed on a steady diet of Talon’s intelligent shakes, mixed in with appetite stimulants, Lucas’ stomach had found it surprisingly difficult to sit through the entire service without something to eat. It had gargled and rolled, aching for food. Each time, Talon had looked at him and grinned excitedly; his large hand rubbing affectionately on Lucas’ thigh and a stubborn, substantial firmness bouncing in his crotch.

Lucas hadn’t held back later on as the food was served. He’d wanted to try and make a good impression with Talon’s family, but his overactive appetite and revelations from the evening before had probably not helped. The news that Talon’s new boyfriend had come out as deliberately gaining weight had most likely spread with relative ease through the crowded event. In fact, it was realy quite obvious, given the looks he was getting at the buffet that evening. 

Talon hadn’t left his side, seeming to enjoy the thrill of showing off his chubby boyfriend to everyone. He’d brought him further platefuls and slices of cake, along with plenty of beers as they were needed. Before long, the shirt buttons had stretched rather worryingly and Talon seemed incapable of looking away from the gradually emerging belly flesh between those tortured buttons.

“Just think, maybe we could have our wedding here one day,” Talon whispered as the pair of them took to the dance floor for a slow dance at the end of the evening. Lucas could feel Talon’s hands on his hips, almost tugging dangerously at the pants as if to show off to all those looking on just how oversized Lucas’ butt was becoming. 

Lucas chuckled, knowing exactly what the cunning boy was doing and enjoying the fact that he could give him such a thrill. His only hope was that Talon wouldn’t tear them entirely, right there on the dance floor. “Maybe…” Lucas smiled, nuzzling into the strong man’s shoulder. “I’d want a better cake than their one today though,” he went on, remembering how unimpressive it had been,

“I’ll make sure that you have the best cake ever,” Talon whispered back. “Absolutely enormous, with all your favourite flavours; more calories in a single bite than most people eat in an entire day!” he teased. 

“Mmm! Yes please!” Lucas moaned back, having to push himself into Talon a little tighter so that his erection wouldn’t be seen by onlookers. He was definitely ready for bed, although he knew that neither of them would be going to sleep any time soon.

Lucas hadn’t gone home that second summer and Talon had picked up some work around the college as well. “I’m not about to skip town just as your tits are coming in,” the horny feeder had proclaimed.

Lucas had chuckled. It was too early to call them that, but he’d certainly been noticing the difference. Talon had wanted to fuss over them all the time and had found some pretty impressive ways to ensure Lucas experienced genuine pleasure from stimulating them. The sensations had only spurred Lucas on to redouble his efforts to consume even more. And, with the added income from Talon’s summer job, combined with his own, Lucas was soon enjoying quite the lavish lifestyle, consuming more calories in a day than a man four times his size. By the last week before college started up again, his nipples had indeed swollen and pointed with building blubber in his chest. The fat had even begun its journey, pushing its way under his arms and widening his chest, like a real fat boy’s. Talon also loved the look of Lucas’ arms as they too began to surrender to the invading softness; the contrast between Talon’s own bulked biceps and Lucas’dough never failing to turn them both on.

“Do you think people will be shocked?” Lucas asked, gazing at their reflections in the mirror as Talon cupped under his stomach fat and shook the blubber that had formed there. A naked Talon, so firm and athletic next to him, moaned with delight; his hardness bouncing and flexing at the ongoing differences between their bodies.

“Oh I hope so!” Talon nodded, feeling more of the lardy flesh that was now taking over Lucas’ once toned butt cheeks.

“So do I!” Lucas grinned, feeling proud after his morning weigh in. Having been a steady 130lbs since high school, Lucas was now having to get used to some very different numbers on the scale. Ever since the first ten pounds, he’d continued to see the figures steadily climbing higher and higher: 140lbs, 160… Now he stood beside Talon, pot bellied and doughy all over, with a weight that measured over 195lbs. The big two hundred was now tantilisingly close. But even after that, there would be more. Of course there would be more. 

It had been a relatively recent revelation to Lucas just how much pleasure he got from others noticing his gains. Perhaps it was because Talon seemed to get such a buzz out of it as well. Everything was sexier when Talon took an interest. With the warmer weather, Lucas had become used to heading to the park with Talon and taking his shirt off for all to see as they walked or lounged around. The feeling of blubber rippling through his body as he trotted along was an insanely erotic experiece; amplified only by the fact that Talon’s extreme weight training regime and cardio work had helped him pack on a further twenty-five pounds of pure muscle since they had started dating. He looked so much in shape, so strong and capable, that Lucas often felt that he had drifted off into a dream.

It was easy to get Talon’s attention. Indeed, it was like switching off all other mental functions to the boy’s brain once Lucas chose to remove his shirt and let out his belly. He’d tease the sexy guy with little moans when his stomach started to stretch, or whisper into his ear that he wanted more food. Talon’s hardness would respond, morphing into pure, thick concrete that could be seen through everything he wore. It was also a joy to see just how horny the kinky boy was for him. He could spend the entire day, climaxing again and again with Lucas, and was only ever one belly rub away from wanting to lavish Lucas with all of his doting affection.

Once Lucas’ butt started getting particularly squishy, Talon could hardly keep his hands off it. He continued to worship it, lying Lucas on his front in bed so that he could play and jiggle all that softness to his heart’s content. He enjoyed how the fat was spreading into Lucas’ thighs and how remarkably different his shape looked with the added mass on his hips. He liked seeing Lucas in sweatshorts and dress pants; anything where the material stretched over the oversized glutes and showed off the doughiness within. During times when his ass crack popped into view in public, Talon could barely contain his extreme arousal.

It was an absolute pleasure to gain for Talon. The validation and admiration his body gave the sexy man was something Lucas never thought was possible. Every fleshy ounce was noted and appreciated, his clothes shrinking every day. But then the magic seemed to stop. Shortly after hitting 215lbs, an entire month went by without gaining a thing, followed by a further week. It wasn’t possible to eat as much as Lucas did without getting fatter. So how was his body doing it?

“Nothing again!” Lucas grumbled, stepping off the scales in frustration.

“Don’t panic,” Talon chuckled, sliding in to smooch Lucas from behind. “You don’t need to put yourself under pressure for me. I can see the changes, even if the scale can’t,” he whispered, rubbing his hand against Lucas’ bulging love handles. “Trust me, I’ve got plenty of blubber to play with. You just need to relax and let it happen!”

Already Talon was moving in for another round of sex, locked in the bathroom together as they were. But the light from the scales might as well have been shining into Lucas’ face, for the numbers they displayed still burned in his mind. How long was he going to be stuck at just over two hundred and fifteen pounds?

“No, wait a second,” Lucas cried out to his lustful boyfriend. He looked at the gorgeous hunk; the evidence of how hard Talon had been working in the gym standing right before him, yet he was feeling so pitifully behind where he wanted his own body to be. “I need to start taking this more seriously,” he grumbled, rubbing his small, but very soft belly. “I really liked it when I was seeing big changes. I just… I miss getting fatter.”

Talon kissed him sweetly. “It’s just a plateau,” he offered soothingly. “These things happen.” He kissed Lucas again. “But, if you really want to get fatter… and I mean, seriously fatten up, I guess I can think of a few changes we could make to kick start things again. Then again… how fat are we talking?”

Lucas’ arousal immediately spiked. Talon sounded so confident and self-assured. Suddenly, the idea of gaining weight seemed so easy if left in his very capable hands. “I want to be huge!” he moaned, kissing Talon with lust. “Fatter than we’ve ever spoken about before!”

Talon looked at him, with a smirk of pleasure spreading across his face. “Okay,” he nodded slowly. “I can definitely do that to you.” 

The muscular man took a step back to look at Lucas’ body, as if to take a mental picture that he could keep forever, then he took Lucas’ hand and led him into the shower with him.

Lucas had been sound asleep when he first felt Talon touching him up. Shortly after, he was rolled onto his back, his legs spread, with Talon disappearing under the covers to blow him off at three in the morning. He moaned, reaching over his stomach to touch the back of Talon’s head, as the guy’s tongue worked with the utmost skill to make him hornier than ever. He knew Talon wouldn’t let him climax right away, but he still moaned with longing when Talon came back up. 

“Are you ready to get fatter for me?” the hunk asked, knowing that Lucas was aroused enough to do absolutely anything for him. He reached over and Lucas could suddenly see that the table on the side had been filled with shakes and treats. How long had Talon been awake, preparing it all? This hadn’t been in any way spontaneous. Did that make it even sexier?

In the quiet silence, Lucas swallowed and chewed between lustful kisses and whispered praise. He was still feeling tight after eating so much before bed, yet he was so horny and relaxed, he felt that he could keep going for hours. Somehow, it seemed more erotic and naughty at night, with no other sounds in the house at that time; Lucas’ chewing and slurping sounding ten times louder than ever before.

After the third shake, Talon expertly brought them both to a climax. Then, without much tidying, the strapping, muscular boy slipped his big arm over Lucas’ chest, slowly rubbing his boyfriend’s belly until he fell fast asleep. When he awoke, the room was tidy once more, with everything cleared away by a perky Talon who had just returned from a morning jog. 

“Morning, sleepy head!” the man teased, throwing off his sweaty t-shirt to launch himself down on the bed next to Lucas. “How’s your tummy this morning?” the kinky boy asked, pulling down the sheets a little so that he could kiss the softness of his chubby lover’s stomach.

Lucas raised his eyebrows in realisation. He’d felt so completely stuffed and bloated when he fell back asleep, yet, now he felt absolutely fine; hungry even, and he told a delighted Talon just that. “I do need to get up shortly though,” he sighed, enjoying the comfort of Talon’s bed. “I need to take a textbook back to the library.”

“Which library?” Talon asked, suddenly serious. Then, when told, he shook his head. “That’s like a half hour walk. No, I’ll take it back later,” he insisted, kissing the belly once more, breathing in the smell of it like a scented flower. “I’m not having you burning unnecessary calories at the moment”

“I can’t just stay in bed all day!” Lucas chuckled. But the grin on Talon’s face told him otherwise; letting him know that that was exactly what was going to be happening that day.

Lucas didn’t need the scales to tell him that he was gaining weight again over the next couple of weeks. He could feel himself softening all over, his blubbery glutes spreading wider across the bed as he sat up to eat whatever it was Talon had brought in for him. He didn’t dare ask what was in the recipes, knowing only that Talon was getting very hard as he ate it all up for him. How many sticks of butter? How many cartons of cream? All of those hidden calories that his boyfriend had been researching how to include in his food. Lucas found that there was a deep, erotic pleasure in the not knowing just what was being done to him.

The nightly feedings had become a regular fixture and Lucas hadn’t done anything more physical than was absolutely necessary. His underwear were pinching him badly in his hips, needing to be constantly tugged out of his crack. He explained his predicament to Talon, hoping he’d find it sexy, but as soon as the inevitable sex was over, Talon went straight out after the gym to buy him a whole load of larger sized ones.

“I can’t believe you’re in XXL underwear already,” Talon sighed with delight, unboxing them all and holding them out for him to admire the size. 

“Well, you did always promise me a fat ass,” Lucas chuckled, having thought for some weeks that his rear was morphing into quite an unfamiliar shape. Pants did not sit at all the same now that his shape was beyond what the fashion industry chose to cater for. He looked at the way Talon’s clothes caressed his cute butt so well, then saw his own monstrous, wide rear that only seemed to be emphasised even more by the poor fashion available to him,

“A funny thing happened whilst I was training tonight,” Talon began explaining, simultaneously mixing up his most effective calorie shake to date. “This lady came up to me and said she works for a modelling agency. She said she wants me on her books. Said that I’ve got a look that a lot of advertisers are looking for these days,” he explained.

“That’s amazing!” Lucas gushed. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that he was dating the most handsome man in the world, but it was amazing validation for Talon, who’d trained so hard at the gym for so long.

“If she’s right, she said I could earn quite a bit of cash,” Talon smiled hopefully. “Enough to keep you overfed at least,” he added with a cheeky grin. “And it’s not just things like underwear you’re going to be needing. I know most of your pants are getting too tight and your belly sticks out of the bottom of your shirts quite often now. It’s sexy as hell, but probably not a look you want to show off in front of your parents and stuff,” he chuckled. “I’ll be able to take you out on more days out and spoil you.”

It was so typical of Talon to be blessed with good fortune and immediately begin to think about how he could use it to help Lucas. After only a week, Talon’s headshots were being dispersed around the industry and he was taking on bookings. Lucas half expected him to start going mad in the gym, training harder than ever, but Talon was as self confident as always. After the first few shoots, the amount of cash in his wallet had increased significantly and Lucas chuckled, imagining what people must be thinking, seeing such a sexy guy like Talon in the supermarket picking up such fattening treats every single night.

Talon had been modest by not telling anyone about his new sideline career. However, he had soon been tagged by his new friends on his socials; each of them amazed, delighted and in awe of how good his body was underneath his shirt. For Lucas, it was a feeling of pure pride as Talon earned enough cash to afford a car; dropping him off and picking him up from classes to save his fat legs from walking. Talon also never shied away from those public displsays of affection and Lucas became used to being pulled in for a kiss whenever they were out; a constant hand resting on his jiggling lovehandle or out of shape butt.

Lucas had no idea that Talon would be given so many free clothes in his line of work. The sexy guy was turning heads everywhere he went with the daring new styles and perfectly fitting items draped across his perfect body. He’d see the girls checking him out and always enjoyed the look on their faces whenever he went to hold Talon’s hand. It was hot, knowing that everyone was so attracted to Talon, yet Lucas was the only one who could have him. He knew that there would be girls, as well as guys, on these shoots making passes at him, yet none of them would have what it took to turn Talon’s head.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have our own place?” Talon asked longingly. “That way, I’d be able to pump you full of soda at 3am and not have to worry about your burps waking everyone up. You’d never have to wear a shirt inside again; just keep that fat belly out all the time,” he whispred, rubbing the mass of stomach fat on his lover.

“I’d love that,” Lucas nodded in agreement, having begun to wonder just what they should do once college ended in a few months. He already stayed each night in Talon’s bed, often not going upstairs to his own space for days at a time. Judging by their grades, he knew that they would both be finishing with good degrees. Lucas managed to squeeze in all his studies and work time within the day, or in the evenings when Talon was working out; whereas Talon was just naturally gifted when it came to acquiring high grades. He had smarts and a shrewdness than few people could lay claim to. Nothing got by him and he was rarely caught out by anything. Just like Lucas’ fattening, Talon seemed to understand all the factors and play and how to use them to get what he most wanted.

And at a now 290lbs of pure, blubbery goodness, Talon’s efforts were definitely getting him results.

It was two in the morning when Talon and Lucas rolled into the house. Talon hadn’t been able to keep his hands off his fat boyfriend the whole cab ride home and he now pushed Lucas into his bedroom without even heading to the kitchen for the usual calorie shake before bed. Talon, who was no stranger to lust, suddenly seemed more enraptured by his fat boy than ever before and Lucas wasn’t afraid to say so, laughing at how quickly he was being undressed by the furiously horny stud.

“You just… ate like such a fatty tonight,” the hunk explained between breathless kisses. “Seeing you around all the guys and girls in the model industry as well… it just reminds me how insanely soft and beautiful you are now. All our kinky little secrets and your enormous, greedy appetite written everywhere, across your whole body,” he exclaimed, running his hands all the way up and down Lucas’ giant belly. “I thought some of their eyes were going to pop out of their heads when you kept on going back for more and more food.”

“Did I really eat that much?” Lucas asked, feeling surprised to hear Talon bringing it up as if he had just completed the most momentous stuffing of his entire life.

“About four thousand calories, I counted,” Talon explained, “Everyone was watching. Everyone was thinking exactly the same thing...”

“What a pig?” Lucas guessed.

“What a greedy, fat piggy!” Talon nodded in complete agreement. He spoke with such glee and satisfaction. He was all wound up and excitable, now taking Lucas’ hardness into his hand and stroking it in just the way that he the obese boy liked.

“I had no idea,” Lucas gasped, caught by the sudden pleasure of embarrassment and excitement. They’d eaten before they even arrived at the party that night and, if he was really honest, he still felt rather hungry now. There was only one possible conclusion from what he had just learned in that moment, and he knew that it was the thought that was going to make him climax very shortly: he’d crossed some invisible threshold, he no longer understood how extreme his behaviour and appetite had become. Lucas was actually losing control.

In the coming weeks, after the toil of the final exams was over, with the graduation ceremony only weeks away, Lucas and Talon waved a fond farewell to the housemates they had grown so fond of. Some had lived with them for the full three years, whilst others had come later, only ever knowing Lucas as the fat man he now was. In all regards, the time at college had been lifechanging, with new friends and relationships that would last a lifetime. Jay and Sarah were still going strong, with plans of moving down to be near her family in Florida, where Sarah planned to open a bakery business that would no doubt increase the tremendous size of Jay’s already wide, fattened rear. Lucas watched that tubby butt walking away for the final time; Jay’s hand firmly grasping his secret feeder’s. It had been some time since Lucas’ own ass had been smaller than Jay’s and, rather than the jealousy he once felt when seeing the rear on the quietly fattened boy, now he only felt a smug sense of superiority, reinforced by the proud rubbing and patting that Talon was giving it right at that very moment, obviously thinking exactly the same thing. 

It was infectious, the buzz that Talong got, holding up Lucas’ pants and underwear in awe; his joy clearly displayed across his beautiful face. He swooned over the massive sizes that Lucas now needed just to cover up his fat. Every item was ridiculously oversized, the width of the pants when empty and draped over a chair causing Talon to lose his mind to lust every time he saw them. Lucas had also been experimenting with facial hair for a few months, so when he shaved it all off, ready for his graduation ceremony, the spectacle of his fatter chins had meant that Talon hadn’t been able to get his dick down in days.

The joy of having their own place after living in the house share for three years was a revelation. The new apartment was nice; very nice. Finally, Lucas had the space to slob out and relax without a shirt on once the summer heat was really biting hard. No longer needing to think of others, he had an entire kitchen filled with snacks and a freezer bursting with ice cream. Talon was earning enough to easily cover their bills, so Lucas didn’t feel the pressure that some of his peers did to rush out and get a job. For a few months at least, he was simply going to enjoy the lazy, obese lifestyle that he and Talon had fantisised about for years; his weight climbing higher and higher; faster than ever before. It had all been the perfect catalyst for a shockingly rapid fifty pound weight gain in just over three months. 

As for Talon, despite his outstanding grades, he also wasn’t in any hurry to use his new degree either. The modelling work was taking him further than either of them ever imagined. The amount of money he could make in a day was overwhelming,and he’d started stashing it away into multiple savings accounts to set the pair of them up for life. The only downside being that Talon was often away for days at a time. Thenm upon the advice of his agent, Talon had started acting classes as well, and was even being pitched for a few reality TV projects.

“I don’t care if they’re desperate for me to sign on, I’m not doing a dating show!” Talon laughed down the phone to his agent, Gail. Ever since his career had started taking off, she had barely left him alone, wanting to squeeze him for every cent she could make. “Because, as you well know, I’m in a relationship!” he sighed, feeling exasperated as he tried to feed Lucas at the same time as taking the call.

“She’s got a nerve calling you so much after you’ve just got home,” Lucas grumbled as Talon wiped around his mouth with a napkin. It was the first calm time they’d had together, given that Talon had immediately whisked him into the bedroom upon getting home. Lucas had meant to try and slow the gains down during Talon’s absence, but his completely defenceless metabolism had seemed to think otherwise. He’d grown lazy; very lazy indeed. Some days, he didn’t even leave the apartment, getting a confusingly erotic pleasure out of doing very little at all. Talon had spotted the added thickness around his neck and into his chubby face in an instant.

“Well, I’m putting my phone on silent now,” Talon promised, soon throwing it over to the couch on the other side of the room so as not to be within his reach. “Listen, I’ve been in touch with someone about coming over to do some personal training.”

“You don’t need a personal trainer,” Lucas scoffed. “You’ve got one of the hottest bodies in the world right now.”

“It’s not for me,” Talon mumbled, sounding slightly embarrassed. “It’s someone to come and work out with you.”

Lucas’s face was one of pure horror. “For me?” he gasped. “Why the hell would I need someone to work out with me?”

“Just some stretches and light cardio work to keep you moving,” Talon smiled, seeing how shocked and disappointed his lover was. “It’s pretty obvious that you’ve hardly left the apartment since I went away.”

“But… I thought you were happy for me to just sit around all day?” Lucas mumbled, feeling like the rug had just been pulled from under him; as if the good times had suddenly come to an abrupt end. “How am I supposed to keep growing if you make me exercise?”

“It’s not necessarily about stopping you getting fatter,” Talon laughed, seeing the sulk Lucas had suddenly slipped into. “Sometimes I think you don’t realise how fat and lazy you actually are now,” he stated, sitting back slightly just to appreciate the enormity of his lover.

Lucas continued grumbling. He couldn’t say that he fully understood or agreed with Talon’s reasoning. In his mind, he still had much further that he wanted to go with his gains. However, it suddenly felt like Talon had reached a level that he was content with. Lucas was, at long last, fat enough.

He decided not to dwell on it, knowing that he only had Talon for one night, before work would drag him away again. There would be no point in spoiling the entire evening with an argument about taking a small amount of exercise. But the meaning behind it? Well, that hurt a little more.

Her timing couldn’t have been worse, Lucas thought, grumbling at seeing Talon’s agent on the intercom screen a couple of weeks later. Sweaty and aching from his first personal training session, Gail was the last person he wanted to see at that moment. The last hour had been pure torture. Lucas had been able to tell from the second that Talon’s trainer had arrived that he’d had absolutely no comprehension of how fat his client was actually going to be that day. Knowing Talon through a modelling shoot, he’d questioned Lucas again and again to check that he was at the right address, not believing for some time that he was in the presence of Talon’s real boyfriend. For the first ten minutes, he’d talked about nothing but weight loss and goals, even despite Lucas’ assurances that he wasn’t doing this to lose weight. One of the things Lucas had most enjoyed about getting larger was the fact that it gave him a licence to be as lazy as he liked. Talon’s whole reason for buying a car had been to save his fat boy from burning too many calories. As such, it made things sexy and erotic when Lucas had been a little slower doing things, or when he needed to take a moment to catch his breath. The exercise that afternoon however, had been anything but an erotic experience. Once they’d got going, the routine had been clunky and overly challenging, with the guy openly admitting that he had never tried to work with someone as large as Lucas before.

“He’s not in!” Lucas shouted down the intercom at Talon’s agent. He felt in no mood to deal with her bullshit and, in that moment, he felt fairly cross with Talon too, for making him get so hot and sweaty.

“I just need to drop off some contracts,” Gail shouted back into the intercom. “I won’t be long!”

Sighing, Lucas reluctantly buzzed the woman in and stood outside the apartment door waiting for the elevator to arrive. Just as normal, Gail breezed on by with her own agenda, flowing by Lucas and inviting herself straight into the apartment.

Flushed and sweaty, Lucas wasn’t looking, or even smelling, his best. However, Gail’s disapporoving look would have been the same, no matter what he looked like at that moment. “These contracts need signing and returning to me as soon as Talon gets home tomorrow,” Gail stated, as if explaining it to a child. “It needs to be the first thing he does when he gets home.”

Lucas took the envelope and opened it up, despite the little gasp of surprise from Gail as he did so. “This is for the reality dating show,” Lucas mumbled. “Talon told you he didn’t want to do that.”

Gail’s teeth clenched with impatience. “Well, what Talon says, and what he needs, are two very different things,” she preached. “I know what’s best for him. A career in this industry is like a well played game of chess: make the right moves at the right time and there is no end to what you can achieve.”

“Well,” Lucas sighed, handing her back the envelope, “Talon’s told you his decision. It’s a no.”

Gail was clearly used to getting her own way. She stood there, glaring at Lucas like he was a disgusting piece of gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “What are you even doing?” she complained, refusing to move her arms and take the envelope from him. “You really think you can keep hold of a guy like Talon?”

Lucas was slightly taken aback. Then, with that, Gail laughed; a spiteful, menacing look in her eyes. Instantly, Lucas was transported back to high school, imagining girls just like Gail conducting their exhausting mind games and less than subtle manipulations. “What’s so funny?” he huffed, realising that he no longer needed to pretend to like Gail.

“You are!” Gail smirked. “I mean, look at you! Every time I see you, you look like you’ve gained thirty pounds. And yet, you seem to think that a man like Talon is going to stand by you no matter how much you let yourself go!”

“You have no idea about our relationship!” Lucas shouted back.

“Oh, I think I do, honey!” Gail laughed again. “I’ve seen it hundreds of times before. There are millions of guys out there, just like Talon; with their cheeky preference for people who are on the larger side. And I don’t doubt that you two might have had something special once. But, sweetheart, you need to get a grip. You’ve turned into a whale! You can’t even begin to comprehend the world that Talon is living in now: surrounded by beautiful men and women every day; people who understand this life better than you ever could.” She paused only briefly, as if her spiteful words rose with such ease to her sharp tongue. “If he’s out there, travelling the world, he’s not going to want to come home to someone who hasn’t even got their enormous, lardy butt off the couch all day. Talon’s profile is getting bigger and bigger every single week. How long until people want to learn more about his personal life? His home town? Whether he’s single or not? You really think he’s going to take YOU with him to some movie premiere?” she laughed, as if the absurdity of the idea was all too much for her. “You’d turn him into some sort of freak show! A laughing stock! And that,” she threatened menacingly, “is something I cannot have.”

Lucas had never been the type to be easily rattled, yet Gail had done just that. As soon as he’d kicked her out, he’d tried to contact Talon to tell him what had happened. However, just like earlier that morning, there had been no answer. The waiting was torture, with Lucas suddenly finding himself questioning everything. Why did Gail still think she could get Talon to sign up for a reality dating show? Why hadn’t the personal trainer been told by Talon how big he was? Didn’t he share pictures of the two of them together? Did some people he worked with even know he was in a relationship? Was his whale-like appearance now becoming an embarrassment for Talon? Was that why he’d hired a personal trainer?

That evening, Lucas lay there on the giant couch like a beached whale. His enormous, fleshy belly had long since slipped out of his shapeless t-shirt and was draped across the cushions; with sweat leaching from the bare skin due to the summer heat. He’d never been particularly tall, and so the prospect of being over four hundred and thirty pounds had felt like a fantasy in those early days. He’d had to learn to consume so many calories, to step back from overdoing it with the exercise. Now it was all second nature. 

Getting up off the couch was an unpleasant thought. There would have to be stages to it. He’d have to use his arms to support himself and try to swing his body in the right way to keep the momentum so that it wouldn’t be too exhausting after all that exercise. He knew what people thought of him: that he was gross and disgusting. But he had never imagined that Talon would feel those things too: that he could ever get too fat, too greedy and lazy. Yet, he hadn’t seen Talon in days. In fact, the handsome man who had started all this wasn’t even returning his calls. 

Lucas felt so alone, and yet, so desperately hungry: for food, as well as the fat that was slowly taking over his entire existence. 

“Oh, my goodness! What a day!” Talon cried out a couple of hours later, catching Lucas by complete surprise as he ate his feelings with a massive tub of ice cream. “I haven’t stopped since half four this morning!” he chuckled, turning the corner and seeing his boyfriend at last. “Looks like the party has started without me!” he sighed, seeing his lazy, oversized boy with a smear of chocolate ice cream around his face. “They had to cancel the shoot because of the weather, so I got an early flight home.”

“Didn’t you see my messages?” Lucas asked, now far too sore from the workout that afternoon to get up and greet him..

Explaining that his cell phone had died that morning, Talon was soon brought up to speed on everything that had happened. He stayed silent, allowing Lucas to get it all off his chest, only preparing to speak once the fat man had stopped.

“Okay… first of all,” Talon began, as if about to start wading through hot treacle, “perhaps the personal trainer wasn’t my best idea,” he agreed, sitting a little closer to rub his obese boyfriend’s aching thigh. “And I’m definitely not wanting you to lose weight. It’s just… like I said last time… your body is gaining a lot of weight quite quickly. There’s nothing wrong with a fat guy improving his flexibility and stamina. I actually read that it helps to increase your appetite. Which, if I’m really honest, was my main reason for wanting to try it.”

Lucas felt a pinch of optimism as Talon’s hand reached out and grabbed the lardy flesh that had slid from under his t-shirt; his ever gentle fingers caressing it with as much affection as they always had.

“Plus, with the way that ass of yours is growing, I’m going to need you to have that flexibility to bend over quite a lot for me!” he teased, sensing that Lucas would be okay with him lightening the mood now that he had shared all of his concerns. 

“I know you sometimes feel guilty,” Lucas nodded, trying to understand Talon’s reasoning. “When we first got together, we never talked about me getting as big as I am now.” “No, that’s true,” Talon agreed, suddenly looking a little sheepish.

“And I know you sometimes feel bad for getting hard, hearing me huff and puff and get out of breath,” Lucas ploughed on; determined to get everything out in the open.

Talon nodded. “Yeah, that’s definitely something that plays on my mind sometimes,” he agreed, wriggling to disguise the boner he was getting just by talking about it.

Lucas chuckled, always enjoying seeing Talon squirm with these types of inappropriate erections.Then, recognising that they both knew that Talon was getting aroused, they laughed, lightening the mood even more.

“Remember though, I fell in love with a guy who was getting off to secretly fattening up his best friend without a second thought,” Lucas teased.

Talon smirked and wriggled a little closer to Lucas on the couch so that he could reach his hand over the full extent of Lucas’ belly to grab the remote and turn off the TV in the backround. “Oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “That certainly was a very strange thing to do…” he smiled playfully, grabbing the skin of Lucas’ belly fat once more and starting to rock the blubber so that it rippled through his entire body.

Now it was Lucas’ turn to be provoked into a more aroused state. He closed his eyes for a moment, simply to enjoy the pleasure of feeling all that fat moving across his monstrous body. “I love this,” he moaned.

“I know you do,” Talon whispered back.

“I’m getting so fat; so lazy and out of shape…”

Talon moaned as well; the words arousing him just as much. The pair of them looked at each other, both seeming to understand that the lust they felt for Lucas’ ever intensifying obesity was something that neither of them could ever control.

Talon inhaled deeply, trying to reset and focus once more. “As for Gail…” he began. “I’m sorry you had to put up with that. She must have gotten wind that another agent has been trying to get me to sign with him instead.”

“Another agent?” Lucas asked, unsure whether to feel pleased or frustrated about Talon taking on even more work. Not when he still had so much fat that he wanted to gain.

“Well, I don’t want to be working all over the place like I am at the moment,” Talon reasoned. “I explained our situation to him; how I want to be here, with you. This guy has much better connections, right here in New York: more money, more opportunities… more time with you!” he offered sweetly. 

“Good,” Lucas nodded in approval. “Because, I’m telling you… simply taking a shower these days is getting to be so…” “I know!” Talon jumped in excitedly, no longer ashamed to show that he enjoyed Lucas’ struggles. “And if you’re worried about me being somehow embarrassed about you,” he sighed, clearly showing a fair amount of guilt that Lucas had ever been made to feel that way, “this is exactly why you should use social media more.” He pulled out his cell phone, scrolling through app after app to show just how many pictures he had of the two of them together on both his personal and professional accounts. “You’re the person I’m most proud of in the entire world!” he exclaimed. He looked around, as if deciding whether to do something or not. “In fact…” he hinted, heading over to a drawer in the kitchen and rummaging around, right at the back. “I bought this a couple of weeks ago and was waiting for just the right time…”

Lucas gasped, spotting the box straight away. Then he held his pudgy hands over his large face, peeking as he saw the most handsome man in the world drop to his knees and propose to him. He had no idea that Talon had even been thinking about marriage; nodding his head without a second thought, before being swept up in an immediate, bold and romantic kiss.

“Now I have something to really fatten up for!” Lucas grinned excitedly, pulling off his t-shirt to unleash every last one of his blubbery belly rolls for the man he loved so much.

“I guess so,” Talon smirked, overwhelmed by the sight of Lucas. He lifted up the half eaten tub of ice cream from the coffee table along with the sticky spoon, clamped his hand onto Lucas’ belly fat and rocked it with nothing but love and lust in his eyes. “Come on then,” he whispered seductively; ready to feed. “Let’s get a jump start on some wedding preparations…”

[smoooothoperator]

Die With A Smile

01: Can't Catch Me Now

Bucky Barnes x mutant!OC (Astrid Rowan)

HYDRA victims, found family, strangers to lovers, emotional scars, first love

Masterlist

prologue | next part

a/n: Hello!!!! Welcome to the first episode!!!!

If you want to be tagged message me!

I woke up with a loud gasp, feeling how my heart pounded against my chest like a drum. I looked down at my body and sighed in relief when I didn't find a single needle in my arms.

Blinking slowly against the white light around me, I looked around me. The place looked familiar: white walls, beeping machines, too bright lights washing everything in a clinical glow. For a second, panic flared, and I braced for the murmurs in Russian and the suffocating mask pressing down on my face.

 But… Nothing. 

Just an empty room, and the air felt less thick, less threatening. Different. But I didn’t trust it.

I tried to sit up, but my body felt heavy, like I was buried under layers of a heavy blanket. There weren't handcuffs keeping me in the bed, and my clothes were different from what I used to wear. Now, instead of those black clothes they made me wear to not make the blood too visible, I was wearing a white long shirt.

“What is this place?” I whisper, looking around.

As my senses started to come to me, I heard a beep next to me, that was in sync with my heartbeat. 

“Oh, you are awake”

I gasped, fighting against the sheets as a voice broke the silence. A woman with dark skin and a calm gaze stepped into the light. She moved slowly, deliberately, grabbing a chair like she’d done this a hundred times. The room felt smaller, the beeping louder. A trick? No, she wasn’t dressed like them… but that didn’t mean anything.

“Who are you?” I groaned, feeling how dry my throat felt.

“Shuri. And you?” she smiled calmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest and leaning in the back of the chair. “You’re safe here”

Her words hung in the air, impossible to believe. I clenched my jaw, the word 'safe' felt like a cruel joke. Safe? As if she knew what I’d been through. Still, her gaze didn’t leave me, steady and expectant, like she was waiting for something. I swallowed hard, holding onto the one word I could find.

“I…” I frowned, swallowing thickly. “Aetheris”

“Is that what they told you?” she chuckled. “What's your name?”

“I don't have a name”

She looked into my eyes for a few seconds, making me feel somehow intimidated.

“Astrid Rowan” she said, tapping something on her wrist and then making a holographic show up, making me flinch and gasp. “Twenty seven years old. You were captured by HYDRA when you were only four years”

“My name is Aetheris” I frowned. 

“No, it's not” she sighed.

I looked at her, taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself. She's nothing compared to the men that control me. 

“Where am I?”

“Wakanda” she smiled. “Do you know how you came here?”

“No” I frowned. “I only know that… That I escaped the quarters in Siberia and just a second later I was here”

“Mhm” she nodded again, placing her fingers on her chin. “Teleportation, too… From what I found out, HYDRA has been experimenting with your body since you were a kid. They injected in you the DNA of a mutant and somehow it made you have those powers you have”

“You are not telling me something I don't know” I sighed, clenching my jaw. 

“But… What I found curious is that they didn't install the program” she frowned.

“Program? What they did to me is not enough?” I scoffed.

She stood up slowly, moving towards the wall and touching it, and the hologram that was on her wrist was now in the white wall.

“Do you know him?” she said, pointing to a picture.

I frowned looking at the man in the picture, trying to recognize him, comparing him to the men that were always around me.

“Why should I know him?” I sighed, sitting slowly in the bed.

“Interesting…”

I frowned looking at her, then at the picture. I tried to read the text next to it, but it was in a language I couldn't understand, so I looked back at the picture.

“Who is he?” I frowned.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes” she said. “Also, The Winter Soldier”

The Winter Soldier. Him? It can't be…

“You do know him” the woman said. 

“I heard about The Winter Soldier” I nodded. “But I never saw him”

Shuri looked at the hologram in her wrist and hummed softly, tapping on it with her finger and moving what I looked like a file.

“You know what's curious?” she sighed, walking towards me and sitting again on the chair. “You weren't controlled… At least not like him. While I was doing the medical check I found out that you had something in your nape. Probably because they found out that it's easier to literally control their assets rather than implanting some mind control like they did with the Sergeant…”

“What?” I laughed, shaking my head. 

“Yeah, makes sense” she nodded, talking to herself, moving around the room. “Like… Now you are talking to me. You are reasonable, not a threat to me because I took it off”

“You don't know what you are talking about” I frowned, looking down at my hands.

“I might look young but I'm not stupid. I'm the smartest woman in this country” she said, grabbing a little plastic bag and showing it to me. “This was on your nape”

Shuri held up a small plastic bag, and inside was a thin, metal fragment, stamped with a familiar logo: the twisted, skeletal head of HYDRA. I stared at it, a surge of nausea rising in my throat. 

“A chip?” I whispered.

 All the times I’d obeyed without question, the sudden blackouts, the blood on my hands... because of a chip? It was impossible, yet the evidence gleamed in her hand, mocking me.

“What did you do to me?!” I gasped, panicking, looking down at my own hands, feeling an overwhelming feeling of loss.

“Nothing” she sighed. “I just took the chip, I told you!”

I frowned looking at her, clenching my jaw. So it was only that? A chip? The only thing that kept me linked to them was a chip?

“This is a trap” I frowned. “No. You are one of them. Get out! Get out!”

“Woah, woah, calm down” she frowned. “I'm not one of them. I just helped you”

“Get out!” I screamed. 

I felt the heat sear through me, the wave of ice and fire clawing for release, more feral than before. I clamped my fists, trying to rein it in, but it was useless. My body was slipping from my control. Panic clawed at my mind as the edges of my vision blurred.

Then, darkness swallowed me whole, a cold silence replacing the chaos.

I woke up gasping, my heart pounding like a frantic drum in my chest. The air around me was thick with a suffocating cold that seemed to seep into my bones. I blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but I was still trapped in that familiar nightmare.

The room shifted and warped, transforming into the sterile confines of my cell in Siberia. The walls loomed closer, pressing in on me, and the oppressive weight of dread settled like a heavy blanket over my chest. The familiar scent of antiseptic and metal clawed at my senses, pulling me back into that dark reality I thought I had escaped

I turned my head, watching the white light flickering above casting long shadows that danced menacingly across the floor. I could hear it, the low hum of machines, the faint beeping that synced with the frantic rhythm of my heart. I shivered, feeling the ghost of cold needles piercing my skin, the aftereffects of injections still coursing through my veins.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside my cell, and my breath caught in my throat. A voice drifted in, guttural and commanding, words spoken in Russian that I could barely comprehend. 

Panic surged within me, making my heart race faster, pounding against the confines of my chest. I moved against invisible restraints, feeling the familiar straps trapping me to the bed, tightening with each desperate movement.

“Stop!” I screamed, but no sound came out. 

The silence swallowed my voice.. I looked around searching for a way out, but the darkness waited like a predator, ready to hunt me.

Suddenly, I was no longer in the cell. 

The world around me shifted, and I found myself in a sterile lab with bright lights shining down, illuminating rows of instruments and machines.

 They were here, the men in masks, their faces hidden behind cold, emotionless eyes. I felt their gaze in me, filled with a twisted sense of purpose.           

“Subject Aetheris” a voice echoed from the shadows, cold and clinical. “Prepare for extraction”         

“No!” I cried, feeling a surge of power bubbling within me, but it was like trying to hold back a storm.

My body moved on its own, like a puppet on strings obeying commands I couldn’t comprehend. Flames sparked at my fingertips, but they danced without my direction, a manifestation of my rage and fear.

“Use them!” the voice barked, and I felt myself compelled to obey. 

My body obeyed with frightening precision, conjuring fire that erupted in a blinding flash. I looked down, horrified, as the flames curled and twisted around my hands as an extension of my rage.

But then the scene warped again, and I was back in my cell.

My breath quickened as I scrambled for a way out, the familiar weight of the cold mask pressing against my face, suffocating me

 I couldn’t breathe.

The faces of my captors appeared before me, their eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction.

“Good little weapon” they purred, their voices echoing around me, as a sinister chorus that threatened to drown me.

“No!” I screamed, my voice finally breaking free from the confines of silence. “I am not a weapon!”

But the walls didn’t listen. They closed in, suffocating me, and I felt myself slipping away, the fire inside me flickering weakly. I closed my eyes, trying to summon the strength to fight back, but the coldness returned, and I was swept into darkness.

Then, just as quickly, the darkness exploded around me. I felt the flow of my powers erupting like an uncontrollable force that shattered the illusion of my cell. 

The walls crumbled, disintegrating into ash and smoke, and I was consumed by the chaos. My flames roared, ice shards cutting through the air, a whirlwind of elements responding to my desperation.

But in the eye of that hurricane, I felt a hand reach out, pulling me from the abyss.

“Wake up, Astrid” a deep and raspy voice whispered, and the world turned black, again.

But this time, the only thing I could sense was a sweet perfume, something that helped to keep all those nightmares and illusions away.

I woke slowly, as if I was surfacing from beneath deep water, the familiar tension in my body easing away and leaving only a faint ache in my muscles. My eyes adjusted to soft, warm light, not the sterile glare I was used to, and I took a slow breath, catching a scent I didn’t recognize, something floral and fresh, with an edge of earth. It felt safe, though the notion of safety was as foreign to me as the room I was in.

The room was painted in warm, earthy tones, nothing like the clinical white walls I grew accustomed to. No beeping machines, no men in white coats or metal restraints. Only soft colors and shapes, and the gentle lines of the fabrics hanging loosely in front of me, in shades of red, blue and purple.

Blinking again, I spotted a small lavender flower lying beside the pillow. I reached for it cautiously, running my fingers over the delicate petals, and brought it close, letting the scent ease through me. 

Lavender. 

I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of it. And in that moment I remembered how familiar the scent was, something that came into my dream not long ago.

I shifted, sitting up slowly. My body, for the first time in years, wasn’t confined or heavy with injections, and though I was dizzy, I felt an unexpected lightness.

I touched the clothes that laid on my feet, curious. They were soft, loose, nothing like the dark, tight uniforms they kept me in, the ones that hide blood so well. Here, everything was colorful, from the purples to the vibrant reds, colors that whispered of something more than survival.

Preparing myself, I moved off the bed, half expecting alarms or footsteps to thunder outside the door.

But nothing happened. The silence of the room settled around me like a strange kind of freedom. 

I made my way to the balcony door, lavender flower still in hand, and opened it carefully, stepping outside and leaning on the railing.

And then, everything changed.

I was no longer surrounded by walls, no longer held in the cold confines of steel and glass. Instead, the world opened up before me: a world unlike any I could’ve imagined. My breath caught as I looked around, seeing buildings towering high, their sleek, metallic designs softened by lush greenery that seemed to grow straight from the structures themselves. Paths curved gracefully around trees, and flowers bloomed in explosions of color beneath suspended walkways and holographic displays.

People moved through this place with ease, some smiling, some caught in conversation, all dressed in bright colors that echoed the world around them. No one hurried, no one hid. It was as if this place, with all its beauty and advanced technology, was alive in a way I didn’t know was possible. 

I took a step forward, then another, unable to stop staring. The ground was warm beneath my feet, a gentle reminder that this wasn’t some dream I would wake from.

I walked cautiously, half expecting to feel a jolt of warning or a sudden rush of control in my blood that would send me back to the cages. Instead, all I felt was a strange calm, a sense of presence that unnerved me as much as it intrigued me.

I lowered my hand, watching it shake slightly as I tried to process what this meant. How could a place like this exist, so… alive and beautiful? And what was I, trapped in HYDRA’s brutal mold, supposed to be here?

The question filled me with an unfamiliar crave, a hunger to know, to understand what this place was and how it worked, to find pieces of myself in the stories that seemed etched into every corner. 

For the first time, a question cut through the fear: Who was I, really? Was there more than what they had made me?

A voice called my name, soft but certain, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Shuri approaching, her expression warm but watchful, like she knew exactly how overwhelmed I felt. She didn’t move closer, just watched, letting me feel this moment on my own terms.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she smiled, nodding toward the world before us. Her voice held a confidence I’d never heard before, something I could almost trust. “Take your time, Astrid. You’re safe here”

Safe. 

I repeated the word in my head, trying to make sense of it. For now, it was enough just to breathe, to feel the lavender flower in my hand, to look at this world around me.

“Safe” I nodded, bringing the lavender close to my nose. “I am safe”

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