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cecilysobsessions · 9 months

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STRIP THAT DOWN (m.) | gojo

↬ word count: 7k

↬ fem!reader, stripper!gojo, sub!gojo, inspiration comes from magic mike

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ summary: as the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, you cater to the women that prefer the pretty and feminine younger boys to give them lap dances. oddly enough, your most popular and most requested dancer is gojo satoru. he’s too muscular, too handsome, and entirely too annoying. and, of course, he doesn’t seem to be aware you find him irritating.

↬ warnings: gojo wearing lingerie, gojo begging, gojo got a finger fetish, gojo getting spanked, anal (m. receiving but unfortunately no pegging 😔), gojo bent over a desk, typos but pretend you don’t see them

↬ a/n: this is for everyone that love men who whimper (myself) also i just turned 21! 🎉

m.list

•••

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

As the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, it wasn’t exactly as fun as some might think.

You were constantly stuck helping your dancers adjust their g-strings between sweaty ass cheeks, constantly sewing back up ripped underwear, constantly throwing out people who got a little too touchy, and more gross things you’d rather not think about.

After being in the business yourself for several years, your boss had mentioned that you had an eye for running things, so you thought you’d give it a try yourself. You just didn’t think you’d end up running an all-male strip club.

You’re not sure how it happened—and you’d rather not focus on that right now because one of your dancers is waving a bra in your face, his voice frantic and panicked.

“BOSS! Hello?! I need help!” he aggressively waves the garment in front of your eyes.

“Why are you going to wear a bra for tonight’s show?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Suguru doesn’t even have enough chest to fit in that size!” you heard a voice from across the room. You were currently helping your dancers with a show tonight, stressed because your name was being called in a different direction every five seconds.

It was Gojo.

The brattiest, most entitled, self-centered, good for nothing employee of yours. Good God, every time he spoke you grew irritated, even if he wasn’t talking to you. Although he annoyed you to death with his overly talkative and cocky personality, he was the best dancer here.

Even though you catered to older women who preferred younger more feminine men, Gojo brought in the most money, brought more customers back, helped scout more dancers, and helped train the most. You hated to admit it, but he really was your most valuable employee.

“Don't body shame Suguru,” you half-heartedly scolded Gojo, watching him as you helped Geto.

Gojo was yanking up a pair of skinny jeans past his long legs, struggling to fit into them because his ass wasn’t exactly the flattest. Although skinny jeans might not be trendy right now, the long length and the plump curve of his ass suited it well. Somehow sensing your staring, Gojo turns to you, the corners of his mouth turning up into a sly smirk.

“What’re ya starin’ at?” he asks you with a seductive smile.

You gag. “Get pants that fit better next time.”

“Oh? Maybe I should just wear no pants then.” he teases and you respond with a roll of your eyes.

After helping the rest of your dancers with their various costumes, you gathered them for a quick before-shift pep talk.

“Alright boys, before we start tonight I want to let you know that one of our regulars, Mina, will be here tonight. Does anybody want to explain who she is to the newbies?”

“She’s an old rich lady who’s picky and has a shit ton of annoying ass requests that’ll make you want to rip your hair out and quit.” Gojo quickly chimes in.

Being the favorite of the club had its downsides. For private dances, Mina almost always exclusively chose Gojo. Although she tips him well, he always complains about her to you afterwards. Without fail. Every single time.

“And what kind of requests?” you ask Gojo so that he will explain to the newer boys.

“She’ll ask to touch a lot of things if you do a private dance for her. It’s up to you on what you’re comfortable with, but when we’re out on the floor, no one’s allowed to touch anything.” he explains.

Although Gojo himself could be annoying and a burden to deal with, he is good at what he does. Without him, your club would have shut down a long time ago.

“Alright, thank you, Gojo. Let’s have fun tonight, shake some ass and make some money!” you declare and your employees cheer with their fists up.

When you go to open the doors, the line outside begins to pile in. Nodding to your bouncer in acknowledgement, you watch the club goers by the entrance as you keep an eye out for your regulars or anyone who seems new. As you greet the women walking in, you feel someone bump shoulders with yours. Looking to your side, you look up to see Gojo standing by you in a silk robe and cowboy hat.

“Hey, boss.”

“Shouldn't you be getting ready?”

“I am ready. I got a cowboy bit tonight. The ladies will love it.” he tips his hat at you, playfully winking.

“I’m sure they will.” you spot Mina walk in, watching her take her usual seat towards the front of the stage.

“Will you watch me tonight?”

“No. I’ve got work to do in my office.”

You see Gojo look down and pout in the side of your eye. He’s disappointed. Well, he can stay disappointed. It’s not like this is the only time you can see him dance.

“But Mina is here. I’d feel more comfortable knowing you’re on the floor if she asks me for a dance. I don’t want her trying anything.”

“She won’t.”

“Still. Please?” Gojo’s eyes have a natural sparkle in them it’s hard to say no. The way he so effortlessly holds eye contact with you and begs you through his eyes pisses you off.

“We’ll see.”

•••

If there was one thing you didn’t want, it was any of your dancers feeling uncomfortable in the presence of any of your customers. Pushing aside all the paperwork that was piled up, you made your way to the floor when it was Gojo’s time slot.

You snaked your way through the back of the crowd, your eyes and ears struggling to adjust to the moving colorful lights and the wild screams and cheers from the women in the audience. You lean against a wall, watching Gojo as he gracefully circles a chair on the stage, sitting on it to hump the air aggressively as he rocks his hips to the slow slutty song he’s chosen for tonight. He seems visibly tense, but you don’t know why. When you look closely, you realize his eyes are searching for someone, perhaps Mina. You watch him feel himself up, hands moving to unbutton his shirt before he rips it off and throws it into the crowd of women.

His hands teasingly run over his nipples, squeezing his pecs as he teases his audience more by unbuckling his belt. He looks down at his belt before he takes it off, tossing that item into the audience too. His eyes look back up, continuing to look for someone.

Gojo makes eye contact with you.

Then, a smile of relief.

From then on to the end of the dance, you watch him visibly relax and loosen up a bit more. He’s feeling himself and having more fun, and you’re glad that you came out to watch him like he asked you to.

•••

You’re sitting at the bar massaging your temples with your fingers, a lousy attempt to soothe your worsening headache. You swear under your breath, regretting that you didn’t take painkillers the moment you began to feel your headache. Thankfully, the lights were dimmed and all your dancers had gone home so it was just you as you finished up your final paperwork for the night. You felt absolutely miserable doing it, though. Tonight was just one of those nights.

“Rough night?” you heard the entrance door being unlocked as a shadowed figure stepped in. Walking into the dimmed light, you watched Gojo approach you, a canned drink in his hand.

“Thirsty?” he offers, opening the soda can and handing it to you as he sits next to you, his knee brushing against your leg.

“I don’t even like soda,” your eyes linger on his leg that has brushed up against yours, ignoring the fact that he feels warm against you.

“Yeah, well, that’s the first thing I saw at the convenience store.” he chuckles obnoxiously, and you can’t help but continue to stare at his knee that is still brushed up against your leg.

“I thought you left,” you decide to ignore the warmth you feel from his long legs as you focus on doing your paperwork. You just want to go home. “I saw you leave.”

“I know you want to go home,” he answers, propping his chin on his hand and watching you write something down. “So I came back to help. You seemed a little off tonight.”

“I was not.”

“Was it because I came in late? Were you wondering why I was late when I’m never late?”

“You were late?!” you didn’t even notice.

“You didn’t even notice,” Gojo pouts, one of his hands coming down to rest on the surface, near the paperwork you’re doing. You can’t help but stare at his long fingers, your eyes tracing the prominent veins on his hand.

When you look up, his eyes are staring into yours through his sunglasses that sit crookedly on his nose. You don’t know if he was always sitting so close, but right now his face was leaning into yours, holding eye contact with you as his eyes gazed into yours. He blinks slowly, watching you for any sort of reaction to his stupid deep gaze.

“If you come in late again you’re fired.” you spit out in a panic and look back down to your paperwork. His stupid blue eyes were distracting you and you didn’t want him to know just how much it was affecting you. What was wrong with you?

He lights up, his smile reaching his eyes. He seems satisfied now that you’ve said something. “Yes, ma’am. Tell me what you need help with.”

“Just lock everything up.”

“That’s it?”

“And fix your glasses.”

“The crookedness adds to my sexiness. Anything else?”

“I don’t trust you to do anything else.”

“What about taking you home? Do you trust me doing that?” he playfully asks.

“I can get home just fine.”

“It’s not safe. And besides, can’t I spend time with my favorite person?” he teases, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“You really won’t leave me alone, huh?”

“I really don’t want to.”

“Gojo,” you begin. You didn’t have the time or energy to banter with him.

“Call me by my first name.” he asks, a slight pout on his pretty lips.

“That’s weird.”

“But you call Suguru by his first name. Why not me?”

You’re surprised he noticed a small detail like that. “No. And Gojo?” you say as you stand, wondering if he’ll pout about it again.

“Yes?” he’s standing up now, his eyes peering down into yours as he looks at you from up above. He’s more than a full head taller than you, and the fact that he’s staring down at you with an air of arrogance and his stupid smirk makes you want to put him in his place.

There is a moment of tension that rises. It hangs thick in the air and feels dependent on you. On what you will do. On what you will say. You’re not sure what makes it too weird compared to the other late nights you spent with Gojo closing.

Maybe it’s the dimmed lights or the late hours, but Gojo was looking at you with bedroom eyes so you forced yourself to look towards the door behind him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you start packing up your stuff. Now that Gojo is bothering you, you decide that you’ll just finish everything at home.

“Wait,” his hand lands on the top of yours, his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles to stop you from gathering your things.

“I wanted to thank you for tonight. For watching me. For… for being there for me.” his voice fades, and you know it’s because he's feeling shy and embarrassed. He’s docile and quiet, something he often does when he gets vulnerable with you. You find it quite adorable.

“You’re welcome.” you go to ruffle his hair, but as you’re about to pull your hand away, he catches it one more, moving it so that you’re caressing his cheek. It’s soft, sculpted.

You watch him stare at you in awe. If anybody walked in at this moment, they would think it’s loving and intimate.

“I really thought you wouldn’t come out.” he confesses in a whisper, nuzzling against your palm as his eyes close in bliss.

“Clearly you thought wrong.” you don’t make a move to pull away, and neither does he.

When his eyes open, they are droopy. Gojo smiles softly, guiding your knuckles to his mouth as he presses a gentle kiss to them. When you give him a small smile, he kisses your hand again, this time it’s your ring finger. He kisses the back of your hand, then turns your arm so that he can kiss the inside of your wrist. And finally, his soft lips make their way to caress your palm as he kisses your hand one last time.

You’re not surprised Gojo is being physically affectionate with you. After all, he’s physically affectionate with almost everyone at the club, so it’s not weird to see him kissing people’s cheeks and giving bear hugs to every person he sees. But what he’s doing right now… it’s oddly intimate. Something you thought he’d never do. Especially since he isn’t saying anything playful or flirty. He’s completely serious right now, eyes unwavering as he watches for your reaction.

“Clearly I did.” He may not be kissing your hand anymore, but he’s holding it in his and studying it; watching it as if it’s fascinating. His thumb smooths over your skin, rubbing it gently with love. You feel your heartbeat speed up all of a sudden, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

It was 10am. And Gojo was staring down at you, shades sitting on top of his nose, his eyes peeking out from underneath. You had given Gojo a spare key to your apartment in case of emergencies since he lives a little far from the club and you’re closer. He usually let you know in advance if he was coming over to crash at your place, and the times he did it was because it was too late and he was too tired to go to his own place. But today he decided not to and he knows you don’t get up until after noon so why the hell was he here now and what did he want?

“Get out.” you spat out, crankiness lacing your voice as you turned your body to the other side of the bed and covered your face with the blanket.

“It’s an emergency.”

“Call an ambulance.”

“But it’s a fashion emergencyyy,” he pleads, gently shaking your shoulder. “I forgot to buy lingerie for tonight’s show.”

Tonight was a Saturday night, which meant it was going to be busy. Lots of customers which meant lots of tips. On nights like these, Gojo always decided to dance to something more erotic, sexier than his usual dances. He had mentioned a couple nights ago that he wanted to try out lingerie for the weekend.

“Take Suguru. Leave me alone.” you shooed him away from under the covers.

“But you live closer to the mall. Pleaaaaase? I’ll buy you breakfast and your morning coffee.” he asked.

Your head peaked from beneath the blanket and you eyed his outfit. A black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. You looked away quickly, trying to ignore how well the shirt fit snug around his biceps and chest area, and how low his sweatpants hung on his hips you caught a glimpse of his v-line.

“Fine. But you come in early to help set up. Since you were late the other day.”

You tried to ignore the looks people were giving you at the mall, but you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s stares lingered on Gojo, or how you saw women old enough to be your grandma giving googly eyes at Gojo everytime the two of you walked by. You knew he was attractive, so why did you feel a pang of jealousy anytime anyone stared at him in awe?

Gojo just had to wear the tightest and smallest clothes he could find. The way his pecs were so clearly defined from his stupid compression shirt and how tightly snug it was and how if you looked closely enough and for long enough, you’d notice the slight bump of his nipples through the thin fabric.

Not to mention his sweats. Fitted, but still loose. Fitted as in you could make out the shape of the curves of his ass as he walked, but loose around his hips that his sweatpants were barely hanging by a thread. It was distracting. Eyeing him again as he sifted through lingerie, you try to ignore the slight bulge through his pants.

“—don’t you think?” Gojo asks, turning to you and holding up the thinnest, sluttiest lingerie you’ve ever seen. It was black and thin and lacy and delicate looking. Gojo would definitely rip it while dancing.

“Too thin,” you shook your head, pretending to ignore whatever he said because you were too busy checking him out.

Turns out he noticed you staring. “You don’t even know what I said.” he tilts his head to look at you. Eyeing you up and down.

“I know what you said. I’m just ignoring you.” you brushed him off, suddenly self conscious and walking to another section of the store and searching through the different sets of lingerie.

“You were too busy looking at my tits to hear anything I said.” Gojo follows you, smirking down at you with his usual stupid arrogance that pisses you off.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Jealous because they’re bigger than yours?” his eyes slightly moved down to your chest, before gazing back up into your eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Stop changing the subject. Here,” you picked up a bra and panty set that seemed more suitable for stripping. “You won’t rip this accidentally.” It was red and thicker and less lacy than the other set he picked up, but this one was definitely sexier and bolder.

“I’ll try it on.”

You assumed people thought you and Gojo were shopping for you because unless you’re being dramatic, you definitely felt stares of jealousy from random people who walked by. And when Gojo asked an associate to try on his clothes—hangers of solely lingerie, you ignored the stares again. You were sitting outside the dressing room when you felt your phone ringing and saw that it was Gojo.

“Come in and help me.” he immediately said when you picked up.

“What? Why?”

“It’s—it’s a little stuck. I can't take it off. Shit’s way too tight.” he whispers through the phone.

“Why did you put it on in the first place if it was too small?” you lectured.

“I thought I could take it off! I didn’t think it’d be this hard. Help me.” you could hear the desperation and panic in his voice through the phone.

You rolled your eyes, hanging up the phone and walking up to the employee by the dressing rooms.

“My friend needs help taking off their clothes. Mind if I go in?” she brushed you off with a wave and you walked into the dressing room area, trying to look near the floor to get a peek at which room Gojo was in.

“Gojo?” you whispered, hoping the other customers wouldn’t hear.

You instantly saw his hand come from beneath the dressing door, waving you towards him. When he opened the door and let you in, your eyes took in the sight in front of him.

He was right. The lingerie was way too tight around his body. The bra squished his chest together too tightly you saw a cleavage forming and it was for sure better than yours. Looking down at the panties had you staring at him in silence. It was too small you could see his dick slightly sticking out, his tip a soft pink.

“Stop staring and help me!” he stood there and whisper-yelled at you. His hands automatically covered his crotch and your eyes moved back up to his face. His face was flushed, almost looking like the afterglow after sex. His cheeks were a pretty pink and his eyes were looking everywhere but you. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry as he pleaded for your help.

“This is so embarrassing, please do something.”

You nodded, walking over to him and turning him around so his back was towards you and he was facing the mirror. You were going to start by trying to undo the bra clasp, but when you looked up, you saw Gojo watching you in the mirror. Ignoring him, you focused on the bra. Tugging at it, you finally got it open after fiddling with it and it snapped open immediately. Eyeing the marks it left on his back, your fingers lightly trace them in an attempt to soothe it.

“Turn around. Lemme see your front.” you demand, and he automatically turns to face you, his eyes watching your every move.

Your fingers move slightly over the red irritated skin on his chest. Almost like you were under some spell, you traced the red lines, gently rubbing them to soothe it. Gojo’s chest heaves and he lets out a breath he unknowingly was holding. When you look up, his cheeks are red and his lips are parted and he’s looking at you like he’s begging you to kiss him. You didn’t realize you were standing too close to him in this cramped dressing room.

“Gojo?”

“Yes?” His voice is breathy and light and barely a whisper. You could feel your heartbeat beating in your ears and the silence is way too loud and the only thing you can hear are the other customers outside changing.

You lay your hand flat down on his chest above his heart, wanting to see if he was feeling just as nervous as you. And he was. His heartbeat was a panicked rush and he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to make a move.

“Am I making you nervous?” you ask, leaning up towards him, your lips just inches from his.

“Yes.” his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat, and he looks at you, gaze focused on you and you only.

“Is that all?” you ask, wanting more from him. You could tell he was turned on; you didn’t need to look down at his crotch to confirm it. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was abnormal and he was looking at you like he was begging you to fuck him with his eyes.

“You make me more than just nervous.” he admits.

“Oh?” you waited, a silent beat hanging in the air.

“You make me hard too.” he confirmed, his voice a mere whisper.

Just as you were about to lean into him to kiss him, you heard a loud knock at the changing room door.

“Hey! We don’t allow more than one person in each stall!” the employee on the other side nagged.

“Oh, I’m just helping my friend take off their clothes!” you quickly step away from Gojo, turning around.

“You can take off the underwear by yourself, right? Hurry up!”

•••

Gojo is avoiding you.

Normally you’d be happy, relaxed, welcoming to that sort of behavior. But today it was weird. Ever since yesterday, he has been avoiding you like the plague. Even going so far as ignoring you completely when he walked in on time today and you tried to greet him.

Gojo almost never avoids; actually it’s always the opposite. When he’s not busy, he’s following you around like a puppy and carrying out any order you bark at him. Cleaning the tables, sweeping the floor, whatever it was, he was happy to do it for you. Only today he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Hasn’t even glanced at you.

So why did it bother you so much?

As you help set up the bar with Geto, your eyes follow Gojo’s movements as he moves across the floor, setting up the tables and chairs for tonight’s opening.

“Your eyes are drilling holes into him. Something happened between the two of you?” Geto asks by your side as you wipe a wine glass clean.

“He’s ignoring me.”

“That’s new. What’d he do?”

You think back to the last couple days. His lips on your hands. His soft, whispered tone as he stared into your eyes with those stupid bright blue ocean eyes of his. Then in the dressing room, how he became so obviously aroused by you just touching him slightly. How there was so much tension you would have fucked him right then and there if you weren’t interrupted.

“Who knows,” you shrugged it off, deciding to act like it wasn’t a big deal that Gojo was ignoring you. It totally wasn’t. Not at all. It wasn’t like you’ve been staring at him the moment he came in wondering why he won’t talk to you or anything like that. Not at all.

You’re not sure what happened tonight, but Mina stopped by to speak with you, concerned for Gojo.

“He wasn’t like his usual self tonight,” she told you. “It’s like his head was totally somewhere else. I didn’t even ask to touch his beautifully sculpted big rock hard cock like I usually do.”

“You didn’t need to tell me the last part, Mina.” you scrunch your nose in disgust at her words.

“I’m saying I’m worried. You should check up on the boy. Maybe you’re overworking him, eh?” she told you with a shake of her finger as she exited through the doors as the last customer.

You didn’t watch Gojo tonight and decided to stay in your office, so you wondered if that had anything to do with him not doing his best tonight. Wanting to find out, you started looking for Gojo throughout the establishment. The break room, the bathroom, the changing room, but he was nowhere to be found. Just when you walk back to your office to call him, you open the door to find him leaning against your desk, arms crossed across his chest.

“Who said you could come into my office?” you close the door, ignoring the fact that he’s leaning on your desk and wearing his stupid compression shirt and gray sweatpants.

He ignores you, instead, choosing to follow you behind your desk and stare at you some more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Ignore me.”

“What? I’m ignoring you? Do you hear yourself? I tried to say hi to you when you walked in, and you pretended to not know I was there. You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.” you told him.

“You ignored me first.” he sighs in frustration, looking away with a pout on his pretty lips.

“Gojo, what’re you talking about?”

“Yesterday! In the dressing room. You almost kissed me. You know I wanted to kiss you too. Then after that, you just pretended like nothing happened. And I hate that you don’t call me Satoru.” he almost rolls his eyes, whining and complaining like a child.

Oh. So that’s what he was hurt about. He wasn’t wrong; you did kind of just brush off whatever happened in the dressing room and pretended like nothing happened. But that’s because you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings and you assumed he didn’t want you like that.

You’re fucking stupid.

“I’m sorry,” you stand up quickly, moving so that you’re standing in front of him. His legs part slightly, letting you stand in his personal space as he manspreads all over your desk.

“I just assumed you didn’t think much of it, and I didn’t want to look stupid if I made a move or said anything about it.” you confessed, watching him for his reaction.

“You do look stupid,” he jests, eyes lighting back up, empty of his worries and concerns. “I’ll forgive you if you call me Satoru. No more Gojo this, Gojo that. I want you to call me Satoru.”

You throw him a thankful smile. “Mina was worried about you. She told me today before she left. Said you weren’t doing your best.”

“Mina can go kick the bucket.”

You gasp and hit him jokingly. “Hey! She practically pays your rent!”

He wrinkles his nose in annoyance. “I got a bigger size for the lingerie. It got me my best tips ever.”

“Even though you were out of it tonight?”

“Yeah…” he says quietly, taking a moment to think to himself. “But I think I ripped it.”

“You should just buy a new one then. Don’t sew it up.”

“Hmm. I think you can sew it. At least take a look at it.”

When you reluctantly agree, Gojo spreads his legs a little further, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you further into him. Your eyes automatically move down to his crotch as he presses you against it, the outline of his hardened dick against your legs. He swiftly takes off his shirt, the red bra sitting against his chest.

“You’re staring.” he observes aloud.

“No, I’m not.” you reply, your eyes trained on his hardened nipples that are practically peeking out through the lacy thin bra.

When you finally manage to tear your eyes away from his body and actually inspect the bra, you see that it’s actually in perfect condition and not ripped at all.

Then you realize what Gojo is doing.

“You idiot! You didn’t rip your stupid bra! You just wanted an excuse to take off your clothes.” you finally look up at his eyes with a glare. His stupid ocean eyes stare down at you arrogantly, a playful smirk painted on his pretty face as he sticks his tongue out at you.

“You’re totally right. I lied to you. How mean of me to lie directly to your face, huh?” he tells you sarcastically.

You raise an eyebrow at his sarcasm. Where was he going with this?

“I suppose I might need to be punished for that.” he says, his voice bored and waiting.

You take a moment to think about what he’s asking from you. It was obvious enough he wanted you the way you wanted him; his hardened cock was throbbing against your leg and his hips began to slightly move against your body, a subtle desperation for any sort of friction.

But what exactly did he want? Did he want you to suck him off, or bend you over the desk and fuck you? Gojo didn’t seem like the type to want to do that though; from his interactions with you, he was definitely one for harsh punishments that caused pain. Masochistic little bitch.

While you’re busy thinking, your eyes stay on his lips, perfectly soft and begging to be kissed. So you lean in, pressing a warm and pleasant kiss to his lips. Gojo almost immediately gives into your warmth, leaning in closer to you, his hands wrapping around your waist. He exhales a shaky breath against your cheek, kissing you back gently. When you pull back and look at him, he raises an eyebrow.

“That didn’t feel like a punishment.”

“What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” you ask, because you weren’t about to waste your time guessing.

“Oh, I don’t know… perhaps a couple of spanks might suffice. And maybe while I’m bent over your desk.” he wonders aloud to himself.

You laugh out loud. He’s definitely thought this scenario through. Without replying verbally, you grab Gojo by the front of his bra, aggressively yanking him towards you as you greet him with a kiss. This time it’s not as soft or gentle as the first one. You’re more aggressive this time, biting down on his bottom lip and licking the inside of his mouth. He moans into your mouth, his legs wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. His moans are dripping with desire, so desperate for more as he kisses you harder, overly excited and clumsy.

“Pants off. Now.” you breathe into the kiss and pull away for a second.

But Gojo is still kissing you. Your cheek, the side of your mouth; any part of your skin he can reach with his mouth. His hands are shakily tugging at his jeans, impatiently trying to yank them down. His legs leave your waist and you yank him off the desk, roughly turning him around and bending him over your desk. Pushing your things aside, you finish stripping him of his pants and they pool at his ankles.

You look down at him, taking the sight of him in. The back of his neck is flushed red, one of his bra straps is falling down his shoulder, and his curved ass cheeks are rubbing against your legs, hungry for some sort of stimulation. He’s wearing a thong, the string between his ass cheeks thin and so easy to rip off.

Your hand caresses his ass, soothing his skin before you slap him lightly, curious as to how much he can take.

“Nghh,” he whimpers lowly. “Hit me harder.” he demands, arching his back and sticking his ass further up the air for you.

Cautiously, you smack his ass harder than the first time, and you watch his pale skin turn a bright red.

“More.”

You give in to Gojo’s demands once more, leaning over his back and smacking his ass. You lean close to his face as he lets out a high pitched whine.

“Quit telling me what to do, Satoru.” you harshly whisper in his ear, and he moans in return, excited to hear you call him by his first name for the first time. He rubs his ass against you again, whines of pleasure escaping his lips.

“Hnghh, spank me harder, please.” he asks you.

“You could beg a little more if you’re that needy.” you tell him with a slap to his ass, listening to the sweet sounds of his whines.

“Nghh, p-please… please…”

“Please what? What would you like me to do to you, Satoru?” you emphasize his name, enjoying his whimper of pleasure every time his name escapes your lips.

“I want more… more than your hands on my ass.” he’s quiet, almost shy and too embarrassed to admit what he really desires.

“What would that be, hm?” your hands place on his waist, your fingers rubbing in circles on his soft skin as you whisper into his ear. “Is it just more spanking you want? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, God, y-yes please. Please, please fuck me. I’m so hard and horny, please let me come.” he begs you, his voice high and whiny and desperate.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” your fingers make their way between his ass, ghosting over his hole as you kiss the back of his neck, sucking hard on his skin to mark him.

“Hnghh,” he whimpers, unable to reply.

“Answer me.” you demand, smacking his ass once more.

“F-fuck, ahh… your fingers. I-I want them in my ass. Stretch me out and fuck me until I cum, please.” Gojo finally voices, a breath of relief leaving his chest. “There’s lube in your left drawer.” he tells you, out of breath and impatiently waiting.

“Did you put that there without telling me?” you ask, taking it out from your desk.

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for this exact moment for months.”

“What a slut you are,” you laugh, yanking down his panties and pouring the cold liquid between his ass. He moans as you lean over him again, your finger rubbing at his entrance. “How long have you been wanting me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, since I started working for you.”

You didn’t realize Gojo had a thing for you for that long. He’s one of the OG employees that have been with you since you opened the club a couple years back. You thought it was odd he never dated much, but it turns out it was because he was too busy pining over you to consider anyone else.

While you’re distracted thinking about how long Gojo has wanted you, his voice draws your attention back to his body.

“C-Can you touch my… me, please.” he asks shyly.

“Where?”

“My cock, please.”

You smile, glad he was clearly asking for what he wanted from you. You reach down to grab his dick, stroking it firmly as your other hand works on his ass. His tip is already wet with pre-cum, and his hips are thrusting in your hand as he moans with every stroke from you.

“You’re dripping wet,” you tell him. “Ready to cum already?”

“Haaaah, I want to cum from your fingers. I bet they’re gonna feel so good inside me.” he says. Then, “you can put one finger in. I’m ready.”

You happily oblige, slowly and steadily entering his hole with one finger, and he immediately tightens around you. Your lips stay on his neck, peppering him with small kisses to aid him through the process.

“Good job, Satoru. You’re taking it so well.”

“Haaah, I love it when you call me by my name.” he tightens around you after he hears you using his name, his hardened cock throbbing in your hand as you loosen him up.

You slowly work him open, kissing and sucking and licking his skin as he shudders and moans beneath you. But your walls are thin and Gojo is too loud. His moans are growing louder the more you fuck him with your fingers, and you’re getting worried someone might somehow hear even though it’s after hours.

“You’re too loud.” you tell him, roughly shoving your fingers into him as a small punishment.

You should’ve known he was going to enjoy it.

“Unghh,” he whimpers, louder than his other moans. His back arches once more, shoving his ass into your fingers and clenching around you, desperate for more. “C-can’t help it. Feels too good.” he moans out.

Your other hand leaves his front, covering his mouth with your palm. He moans as you continue fucking him, your office dead silent besides his moaning and the sound of your fingers fucking him. You feel his tongue against your hand, licking his leftover pre-cum off your hand.

“Filthy slut,” you tell him, and he tightens around you in response, sticking his tongue out so you can shove your fingers in his throat.

His mouth is warm and his tongue wraps around your digits, taking them into his mouth and sucking. His eyebrows draw together and he closes his eyes in pleasure, trembling with pleasure. He’s practically fucking himself on your fingers, hips moving on their own as he chases his high. You finger him roughly, leaning down to leave hickeys on his neck as he continues to thrust into you and suck and moan on your fingers. He practically screams in pleasure when you take him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spurts on your floor. He breathes heavily against you as you rub his ass, your other hand leaving his mouth.

“Good?” you ask after a couple minutes of letting him catch his breath.

“Call me by my first name.”

“Satoru?” you ask and he stands back up and turns around to look at you.

You laugh at the sight of him: pants pooled at his ankles, hair tousled and sticking to his forehead with sweat, and cheeks red, and his bra barely hanging on.

“Why are you laughing at me,” he pouts, pulling his sweats back up in embarrassment.

“I didn’t know you liked being fucked like that.” you point out, wiping your hands.

“Well, I am a filthy slut.” he winks, his hands coming up to your shoulders and guiding you to sit in your office chair. “My turn.”

“Clean your jizz up first.” you nod towards the spot on the floor where he finished.

His cheeks flush. “After I eat you out.”

•••

a/n: yall i was too lazy to write the second smut scene so use your imagination 😂 i’m too excited to write my enemies to lovers zuko story so stay tuned! (btw i totally named this fic after that one song by liam payne lmao)

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comradekatara · 4 months

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i don’t go into it explicitly in my essay so i may as well cite my armamentarium of examples here. please note that some of these examples will be pretty uncharitable towards zuko, but i figure that zuko’s actions receive enough (overly) charitable interpretations that he can stand to be criticized harshly from time to time.

when he said to aang “nice try avatar, but these little girls won’t save you,” he was being overtly infantilizing and dismissive to extremely capable girls his age in a way that emphasized their gender to diminish their capabilities. this is quite overtly misogynistic.

the way he treats katara in “the waterbending scroll” is pretty fucked up. i know that a lot of people find the way he seductively circles katara after tying her to a tree, threatening, and bribing her to be hot and even romantic, but in this scene, he is explicitly imitating ozai (we see him employ this same tactic of circling ominously with zuko in “the awakening”) to scare katara into submission. this is not only sexist in the sense that he is attempting sensuality to threaten a young girl (only a few years younger than him, but still, not great), but also just creepy and horrifying and bad in general.

“well aren’t you a big girl now?” is what he says to katara once she can finally hold her own against him in a fight. katara is only a few years younger than him, but he treats her like an incapable child, and uses that patronizing infantilisation to taunt her like he did with the kyoshi warriors. (and in fact, he continues to do so in book 3, but more on that later.)

zuko shouts “girls are crazy!” after azula manipulates him into falling into the fountain. i think this example is pretty negligible all things considered, seeing as a couple of girls did just deviously orchestrate a plot to humiliate him for kicks, but it’s at least equivalent to sokka saying “leave it to a girl to screw things up” to katara in terms of making unfair generalizations about an entire gender in the quest to insult your annoying little sister. but pretty much every sibling says something like this as a kid, so it’s pretty innocuous to me in the scheme of things.

on his date with jin, zuko remarks “you have quite an appetite for a girl.” this is obviously sexist, but it also makes me sad for what it reflects about the eating habits of every single woman he grew up around (compounded by the fact that they’re nobility and thus must adhere to strict gender roles as informed by class). i wonder if seeing jin eat was the first time he ever saw a girl actually enjoy her food.

zuko’s treatment of mai throughout all of book 3 is highly misogynistic. he expects her to coddle, comfort, and support him unconditionally while he never once considers her feelings, desires, or thoughts. i don’t even think zuko knows that mai is a human being (with a rich inner world of her own). at the beach, he behaves in a way that is controlling, jealous, volatile, and borderline abusive. he insults her, calling her dull and unfeeling; he polices the people she talks to; he feels entitled to her unconditional affection even when he treats her terribly. even when he gives her the conch shell, he asks “what? don’t girls like stuff like this?” which is incredibly patronizing and presumptuous. he demands that she act as his perfect mommygirlfriend, takes out all his frustrations and inner turmoil on her, is entirely thoughtless and inconsiderate when it comes to considering her feelings beyond giving her the most shallow, superficial gifts (and for a prince, giving someone cheap desserts and/or beach trash is not exactly a grand romantic gesture), and can’t even bring himself to break up with her face to face. mai does an incredible job of supporting zuko as best she can despite being incredibly unhappy herself and frustrated by his behavior, and somehow she is still framed by the fandom as being a bad girlfriend to zuko, when in fact the reverse is true.

zuko is also incredibly patronizing, dismissive, and downright cruel to ty lee. he basically calls her shallow, stupid, oblivious, and myopic, when of course this only betrays his own obtuse inability to read others, as ty lee is quite possibly the most perceptive, intuitive, socially clever, skilled, and brilliant character in the show. like many other characters in the show, including azula, zuko falls for ty lee’s bubbly ditz persona, and assumes that her hyperfeminine affect signifies her shallowness and stupidity. this undervaluing of femininity is of course not unique to zuko, and even the most feminist women are prone to make assumptions about people who present themselves in the way ty lee does (even katara says that ty lee doesn’t seem like a threat), which is of course also why ty lee deliberately presents herself in this way. she knows that she will be underestimated, which is all the more imperative to achieving her primary goal: survival. however, just because ty lee encourages this perception of her doesn’t mean that zuko is let off the hook for falling for it, or for being cruel to her.

while i don’t fault zuko for this as much as i do his treatment of mai, katara, or ty lee, his lack of generosity towards azula is a problem. obviously there are extenuating factors informing why he views azula as a rival. their fractured relationship is a tragic product of ozai’s abuse, and neither zuko nor azula is entirely at fault for how they view and treat the other. but zuko never makes any attempt to understand his sister or why she behaves the way she does, and never shows her the affection or concern azula shows him (in rare but nonetheless important moments), even after she has clearly undergone a nervous breakdown before their final agni kai. i know that zuko would view azula with hostility and suspicion no matter what, and a lot of it is of course deserved, but i cannot help but wonder whether his misogyny serves to reinforce his assumption of her that she is a manipulative, hysterical, dishonest harpy whose sole purpose in life is to make him miserable. lol

zuko constantly dismisses suki throughout “the boiling rock.” when sokka first points her out, zuko frowns at the notion that sokka is suddenly going to give a girl the attention he has, up until this point, been the only one receiving. of course suki does monopolize sokka’s attention, suddenly making zuko the third wheel where he was formerly a partner, but it’s hardly suki’s fault for being sokka’s girlfriend. he only barely apologizes for burning down suki’s village (which is probably the worst thing he ever did in the entire show, btw), and basically ignores her existence throughout the rest of the episode. in “the southern raiders” he refuses to read the room and barges into sokka’s tent despite sokka and suki clearly having a romantic evening planned. suki is perfectly nice and friendly to zuko despite having absolutely no reason to forgive the guy who burned down her village, but zuko is nonetheless dismissive of her as if she isn’t even there. which is rude, but also, kind of funny, so take this one with a grain of salt because it honestly makes me laugh??

ultimately, the way zuko treats katara, not only in book 1, but up until they become friends at the end of “the southern raiders,” is genuinely egregious. despite having that incredibly meaningful moment in the catacombs together, zuko doesn’t register it as significant in the way katara does, and cannot comprehend why katara would feel particularly, personally betrayed by him compared to the rest of the group. at the beginning of the episode, zuko pushes suki out of the way from falling rocks (dismissively) and then jumps directly onto katara and rolls her away from the rocks (patronizingly) as if she is some kind of baby whose legs don’t work. when katara is rightfully pissed off that a guy she hates has pressed himself directly on top of her and won’t get off, he scoffs and says “I’ll take that as a thank you” as if she is simply a truculent, ungrateful child. he later completely invalidates katara’s feelings, following her after she leaves the group, and yells at her for her audacity (because she is still not best friends with the guy who betrayed her trust and facilitated the near murder of her best friend), and barely seems to understand the source of her rage, assuming that she is displacing her anger towards her mother’s killer onto him instead of simply acknowledging the ways in which he has tangibly harmed her. he interrupts sokka during one of the only truly happy moments in his entire miserable life to ask him to rehash the most tragic, horrific day in his whole horrifically tragic life, and in this moment he reveals that he somehow does not even know katara’s name. until sokka refers to katara by name, zuko only refers to her as “your sister” (and at no point refers to her by name throughout the show until later in this scene), dismissing katara while simultaneously begging for her approval, which he admits he doesn’t even know why he craves, as if he doesn’t even respect her as a person but simply wants her approval because her totally valid anger towards him is just a pesky irritant he wants removed. he then imposes his own desire for revenge onto katara, not even realizing that his passionate fury is a product of his own personal feelings being displaced onto katara’s parallel situation (both their mothers were killed in their place as a sacrifice), and simply assumes that katara would benefit from going on a dangerous revenge quest with him. it is only once zuko realizes the sheer extent of katara’s power and empathizes intimately with her complex feelings of rage, grief, and guilt regarding her own mother that zuko comes to respect katara deeply, and from then on out their friendship is one of mutual respect, understanding, and a deep, prevailing love. but until the antepenultimate episode of the entire show (assuming that the four parter finale counts as just one episode), zuko constantly infantilizes, patronizes, dismisses, belittles, ignores, and trivializes katara.

“zuko has no frame of reference for sexism” his uncle literally sexually harassed (and possibly even assaulted depending on how you define it) a female employee on the job (june in “bato of the water tribe,” if you’re wondering). yes zuko is rightfully appalled by that, but mostly because his uncle is displaying desire for a far younger, hotter woman, and zuko finds all displays of iroh’s desire disgusting. to say he’s in no way familiar with patriarchal logic and the mistreatment of women in society is just plain absurd, when not only do we see him mistreat women, but we also witness him witness other men mistreat women—in particular, a man whom he admires and strives to emulate in all aspects of his life.

and finally, while this point is fairly obvious, the question “how is zuko sexist?” is just patently ridiculous for the simple fact that he was raised in an extremely patriarchal society and internalized rigid roles and hierarchies of class, race, and gender. so like, even if we didn’t have manifold examples of him behaving misogynistically in various ways across the show, he’d nonetheless be sexist because of course he is. like, real talk, what do you guys think sexism even is if not being informed by patriarchy and its assumptions? answer quickly

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nonranghaes · 11 months

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heads up! fem!reader + marriage depicted.

for what is probably the thousandth time over the past few days, your phone buzzes with yet another new notification.

joshua looks up from where he's sprawled out on the hotel room's king bed, waiting for you to finish getting ready for your dinner reservations, and reaches for your phone without much thought. he picks it up, and already sees the new message before he cracks a smile. ah. another one of these messages. he gets up, making his way to where you're standing in the bathroom, finishing your makeup, still grinning as he clears his throat.

"this time... from someone named sarah," he looks down at your phone, reading off the message, "wait, i didn't even know you were dating someone, w-t-f-question-mark."

your shoulders shake a little as you resist laughing, more concentrated on doing your eyeliner. "oh my god. i knew this was a dumb idea."

"it's been funny, though." his eyes twinkle and he leans against the doorway. "you literally hard-launched me as your husband to these people."

you pull the liquid eyeliner away, turning to him with a smile he already wants to kiss. "yeah, and?" you rest a hand on the counter, leaning against the hard edge. "i like keeping our photos for myself." you pause, head lulling to one side, "aaand i really don't like the people from my hometown enough to keep them updated."

your husband chuckles warmly, though, because he was always the opposite. pretty much everyone in his life knew about you: every anniversary you celebrated while dating was punctuated with a picture of the two of you by the end of the night, every social event he posted about often had a picture of you by his side... joshua simply liked being taken by you. he didn't overly flaunt it or anything, but there was literally no way for his friends and family to not know about you.

meanwhile, you literally logged into your old account just to post a few wedding pictures your friends had taken and sent to you (you didn't want to post the official ones that'd already been touched up and sent to you both--those were for your private account) and a 'love you, mr. hong <3' as the caption. no tagging joshua, no other announcements, just pictures of you marrying the love of your life.

(needless to say, it's caused a slight rift in people who somehow thought they were entitled to your private life despite not speaking to you for years. )

"you really didn't have to post these," he says after a moment. "i don't mind being your dirty little secret--" he's cut off when you swiftly smack his arm, and he laughs warmly over it: you're so easy to tease. "i mean it! you didn't have to tell anyone about me if you didn't want to."

"i know," you go back to finishing your makeup. "i just... i wanted to."

"hey." joshua's voice is softer now, and it makes you turn to face him. wordlessly, he leans in, kissing you as one hand cups your face. you can feel his wedding band press against your skin. "i love you. a lot."

you giggle and plant a quick peck against his lips. "i love you, too, you dork. now let me finish so we can leave soon."

with another warm chuckle, he presses a lingering kiss against your cheek. "as you wish, mrs.hong."

#nonranghaes.thoughts #seventeen x reader #nonranghaes.svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #svt imagine #svt x you #joshua hong x reader #joshua x reader #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #im never gonna announce if/when i date someone to ppl in my life #one day i will just suddenly be married lmao #they dont get to know anything before that /hj

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feeder86 · 1 year

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The Feeders’ Former Years

Jac sighed. It was pathetic. This girl thought they were actually friends; he could tell by the way she smiled and lowered her voice in that conspiratorial way whenever she talked about the others on the course. Sadie: the girl from a nowhere town, merrily plodding along on her boring life that would ultimately amount to nothing. She had followed him up the hill, back to the dorms, chatting in his ear and somehow managing to keep up with his massive strides.

“Oh, so you live in THESE dorms?” Sadie smiled, breathing a little heavily, but still by his side.

Jac rolled his eyes, but turned and smiled at her nonetheless. “Is there something special about this building?” he asked, bemused by the simple girl’s surprise.

“This is where all the hot guys seem to be this year!” she beamed and then blushed a little at her stupidity. It was a flaw of hers. She got overly nervous or excited and the pathetic thing let her mouth run away with her.

Jac just smiled. He didn’t need to be told how good looking he was, and he didn’t need flirts from someone so basic as this girl. He took advantage of her embarrassment and slipped away, into the dorm.

Once upstairs, Jac opened the door to the corridor, only to be greeted by the muscular bulk of Sam, tumbling into him after catching a football that had been flung down the corridor by one of the other boys.

“Sorry, Jac,” Sam mumbled, standing up straight, a little embarrassed to have fallen to the floor in front of him. “You want to join us?” he asked, sounding keen, like an irritatingly hyperactive labrador.

“No,” Jac simply replied; momentarily not caring how rude he sounded. He spied Rob and Ben down the corridor and huffed in disapproval. Of course they had been involved in this ridiculous indoor football practice. The three idiots together, making as much noise as they liked. What more could be expected from them? He gritted his teeth, trying to hide his annoyance at the fact that these three simpletons were exactly the type of guys fools like Sadie fell for. The three athletic boys strutted around the campus with a sense of power and entitlement that came purely from their sporting prowess and good looks. They knew that the girls worshipped them for it and believed they had the world at their very fingertips. Jac knew that he needed to do something about that. The idea of toying with them and bringing them down excited him. It always had. Back in high school, he’d been a master of quiet manipulation and mind games; entertaining himself through the monotony of it all by enacting cruel twists of fate upon one member of the popular crowd after another; none of it ever traceable back to him. He wasn’t a nice person; he never had been. But he knew how to make people believe that he was their friend. And, now that he was older and more experienced, he felt his mind opening even more. He had a talent within him, a sense of power and an emerging knowledge of the interconnections within nature. It was thrilling and exciting to feel his understanding growing each and every day; something that these three pathetic boys couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

So young, so handsome and oversexed, the three of them were prime candidates for whatever Jac’s wicked mind could concoct. He turned, smiling sweetly at them. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Sam! You make sure you boys have fun,” he offered kindly, heading into his private room and away from them all. He needed to play nice and have more patience with them. That way, those idiotic boys would never suspect what was about to come their way.

Jac had come to college hoping that a degree in chemistry would advance his personal studies. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that even the professors were lacking. They didn’t understand the world the way that Jac could. They didn’t see the interactions between the biology and chemistry that they taught. They scoffed at the thought of ancient knowledge, of the mystical, fantastic and unexpected properties of the natural world. Jac’s mind whirred with it all; the possibilities and, ultimately, the ways in which he could twist and manipulate them to his will.

Each revelation made Jac laugh in amusement; his mind constructing one wicked plan after another. The things that he could do! How amusing would it be to have them all dancing like puppets on a string? Sadie, the jock boys, the idiotic professors of this lame university; one day they might look up at him and see exactly how much more important he was than any of them. They’d cower at his feet, and he would show no mercy.

Sam, Rob and Ben filled Jac’s mind more than any of the others who annoyed him in college. He could hear their loud voices out in the corridor and the whispered, undeserved admiration they received from all those around them. No evil scheme in Jac’s mind seemed foul enough for what he wanted for them; how much he longed to manipulate their lives; to change the way others looked up to them; to take away their god-like status within these walls. He watched them indulge in women and their attentions. He could smell the arousal of them all; three horny boys on a constant hunt for a good time, and never being denied. They were disgusting; nothing better than pigs!

Jac paused for a moment, feeling a great sense of revelation in his mind. Something rang true as he compared the three jocks to being a drove of pigs. The more Jac thought about the word, the more he realised it was right. In fact, all the boys in these halls were pigs; their needs and desires as basic as could be: simple, patheic; easily quashed.

Ideas brewed in Jac’s brain for some weeks. He watched the three boys as they played football on the lawns outside; shirtless and aware of all the eyes upon their bodies of physical perfection. He heard tales of their late night antics and smelt the sweat of their sexual conquests on their impressive bodies as they walked by.

The final plan came to Jac, fully-formed, as he saw the three of them one Sunday afternoon, sat around the kitchen table, a little hungover and boasting to each other about the dirty girls they had picked up the night before. It was the perfect scheme to deal with guys like this; a way to make them pay for their lust and charmed lifestyle. People didn’t seem to understand the amazing neurochemicals released during sex. It was a mind-blowing state of arousal and dramatic change in the body; the perfect catalyst, if someone was devious enough to implant the correct chemicals and ancient magic into the body beforehand. Jac could see it all: the ingredients he would need, the ceremonies to be performed and sacrifices to be made. He was lost in a wondrous train of thought as the whole formula slotted together perfectly in his mind. “Bye bye, boys!” he smirked to himself as he began to write it all down in his notebook. Now, this was going to be entertaining!

“Oh, hey Jac!” Ben called out keenly. “You want to hang out with us?” he added, reaching to pull a chair towards their table and shifting up a little; always so desperate to add him to their crew.

“Sure,” Jac nodded, surprising them all by giving them more than his usual brief acknowledgement by actually sitting down with them. “I was just thinking,” he grinned, trying to contain his excitement that his plan was actually ready to put into action. “You boys want to come training with me this evening?”

The three boys had jumped at the chance; after all, Jac’s body was so sculpted and perfect; garnering him admiration from all the girls he shunned. They’d asked him before about his strength training secrets and made multiple attempts to invite him along to their sporting events in the past. But Jac also knew that the three of them all looked up to him in a way that none of them really understood. It was part of what excited him most as Jac worked against them, creating his new formula. It had been joyous work and he felt a strange sense of purpose in all that he was doing; as if this was all meant to be. His true purpose.

Jac had been out that morning to buy protein powder and milk, adding in a couple more flavours that would disguise the taste of the mixture he would also be secretly adding in; the one that the boys would not be expecting, and the one that would see them slowly transform away from their perfect physiques of the present. When the boys were ready and standing there in the gym with him, he grinned, holding each flask out to them to slurp on as they watched Jac lifting impossible weights with ease.

“450lbs!” Ben asked, mouth agape as Jac went for the bench press without asking for a spotter. Already, he was nearly through his protein shake, as were the other two.

Jac made an effort to make the lift look hard, but he sat up, his muscles bulging just as usual, looking smugly across at the three of them. “That’s how it’s done, boys!” he chuckled.

At that moment, a pretty girl with the tightest butt imaginable strolled on by on her way to the treadmill, capturing the attention of the three horny young males. Like flicking on a light switch, their scents immediately changed, making Jac’s heart pound with excitement. The formula was inside them and had just been ignited for the first time. He smirked to himself, then sat up, leading the boys to the next activity.

Despite their pleas, Jac had refused to go out with Sam, Ben and Rob that evening. Perhaps they thought that they were all friends now? Just the idea of that made Jac laugh. He watched them leaving, dressed to impress with their perfectly fitting shirts and tight pants that emphasised the athleticism of their thighs and buttocks. They certainly wouldn’t be returning alone that evening. It was Friday night and they were out to get laid. And that was exactly when things would start to get very exciting indeed.

The boys met in the kitchen the following morning; their usual debrief after a night out, finding out from each other what had happened to them after they had disappeared with a new girl under their arm. Jac drifted in, keen to see how things were unfolding. With all three of the boys, he could smell the ordinary undetectable scent of the formula, now fully established inside of their bodies. His heart raced, realising that it was indeed working. There was something different about all of them, but it was Rob’s stomach that Jac’s eyes immediately found. Dressed in a tight t-shirt, the boy hadn’t seemed to relise the slight tightness of it just below his belly button as he sat there, talking animatedly with his friends.

“We didn’t get to sleep until 5am!” Rob told the boys, laughing. “She was so fucking horny, she just wanted to keep going!” he boasted about his latest conquest. “It didn’t matter what I asked for, she was up for it!”

The two others laughed with a little jealousy, clearly not having had quite as much fun with their ladies the night before.

“That sounds awesome!” Jac smiled, coming over to the table to join then. “Good for you, buddy!” he smiled, grabbing Rob by his shoulder and shaking it with slight affection. Although delighted to see that Jac was joining them again, the three boys suddenly looked a little on-guard. They’d never heard of any of the college girls getting lucky enough to have sex with Jac and they had clearly assumed that he was not the type to approve of the sort of wild one-night stands that they themselves enjoyed so much. But Jac soon put them at ease as he sat himself down at the table, encouraging Rob to describe his night in even more detail, and the kinky things he had been up to. When Ben and Sam leaned back, it was slightly apparent that they were ever so slightly bloated in their stomachs as well, though it was nothing compared to Rob. And with that in mind, Jac felt intrigued to find out why.

“So, you’re telling me, she blew you off in the park on the way home, then you came back here to have sex. And then, this morning, you went for two more rounds before you packed her off home?”

“Pretty much,” Rob grinned, seemingly delighted to be receiving Jac’s approval.

“High Five, buddy!” Jac cheered, raising his hand up. “I didn’t know you were all such pros with the ladies!” he lied, looking around at them all, playing to their egos with perfection. “I can’t wait to hear how you get on tonight.”

“I’m not so sure I can handle another night out,” Ben grumbled, his head a little sore from his hangover.

“What?” Jac laughed. “It’s Saturday night! Don’t be such a lightweight,” he teased. He knew what he was doing. So susceptible to peer pressure, the boys were soon getting ready to hit the clubs again, with one very hedonistic goal in mind.

By the end of the week, Jac was starting to hear whispers about Rob. On the Wednesday, the idiot boy had slipped up, heading to the kitchen area without a shirt on, seemingly oblivious to the growing softness that was spreading across his forgotten abs. Although no one had said anything to him, the petty gossiping had spread through the dorms like wildfire. By the Saturday, he’d either noticed for himself, or had it pointed out to him, for he had disappeared off to the gym that morning and come back, dripping with sweat.

Ever keen to see his formula’s effects, Jac had decided to bump into him in the corridor, marvelling at how the idiot’s damp clothes were sticking to the swolleness of his torso. Perhaps the boy had been overmasturbating in the week, Jac smirked, seeing the puffy fullness to the guy’s butt, as well as the surprising mass to his thighs.

“Wow! This bulk is really working for you!” Jac smiled, deciding to make a fuss of Rob. “Look at those guns, buddy!” he cheered, lifting Rob’s arm himself. “Our workout last weekend has clearly done you some good!”

Rob shrugged with a little embarrassment. “Actually, I’m trying to cut back,” he mumbled. “I didn’t really intend to…”

“It looks great!” Jac forged on. “I do the same thing every six months or so,” he lied. “During my bulks, I always put on a few pounds of fat in my stomach and my ass, but… honestly, man; you can’t beat it to help you pack on the muscle! You’re going to be absolutely shredded by next summer!”

“Yeah?” Rob asked, looking instantly more encouraged. “I didn’t think of it that way.”

Jac looked over Rob’s body with complete approval. “Man, I’m actually really jealous,” he laughed to himself. “Next time we go to the gym, I can already tell that you’re going to give me a run for my money on the weights.”

“You bet I am!” Rob smiled back; delighted at the prospect of going to the gym with Jac again.

“Are you off out tonight?” Jac asked next; a master at casual conversation.

“Well, I wasn’t going to,” Rob shrugged, clearly a little embarrassed about his current appearance. “But… actually… why the hell not?”

Despite the clear progress with Rob, Jac could see that things were going to take a little longer with the other two boys. Sam was naturally broader and taller than Rob or Ben. Although he had been packing on a few pounds since he’d taken Jac’s protein shake, his body had done a good job of hiding the majority of it across his giant frame. The only anomaly appeared to be Ben, who’d been rather quiet that week, bogged down with a backlog of assignments that he had neglected. Looking at him, dressed and ready for a night out with the boys, he didn’t appear to look remarkably different than the week before. As frustrating as that was, in some ways, it only added to the comedy of the situation for Jac, seeing a chubbier Rob sticking out like a sore thumb with his two other friends; his bulbous glutes pushing out so much more than the other two as they strutted off to the clubs. Still, Ben’s slow progress was a concern, and something that Jac would have to think about how to rectify very soon.

Another few days drifted by without much progress at all on Ben’s physique. Jac started to wonder if all the guy’s talk of sleeping with hundreds of girls was all just one giant bluff. But as he saw the boy coming into the kitchen on the Wednesday morning, tired and sleepy-looking after staying up for most of the night on an assignment, Jac’s patience finally came to an end. How much easier this would have been had these boys been born gay and Jac could have seduced them himself. The whole process could have been sped up so much by now!

“Morning sleepy head!” Jac smiled, with slight flirtation; for his own amusement rather than anything else.

“Morning,” grunted an exhausted Ben, filling up his bottle of water in the sink.

Jac huffed. Why couldn’t he just seduce these guys? It didn’t seem that difficult. They were so simple and unremarkable. They already practically worshipped the ground he walked on, drawn in by an energy that even Jac didn’t quite understand himself.

“You’re looking good this morning,” Jac tried. “That t-shirt suits you.”

Ben turned and looked at him, blinking a couple of times. “Thanks. You’re looking good too,” he smiled; suddenly seeming a lot more awake.”

Jac’s nose twitched. He could smell it; that arousal, drawing Ben to him like a moth to a flame.

“I really enjoyed spending time with you the other day at the gym,” Jac went on, growing more bold as he detected his success. “Do you think… maybe you might like to do something else fun with me at some point?” he asked, with a false coyness to his voice.

“Just you and me?” Ben asked hopefully, his eyes now wide with excitement.

“Of course, just you and me…” Jac smiled, moving in on his prey and placing a friendly hand on the guy’s shoulder. This was working. “Where would you like me to take you?”

“I… I don’t know,” Ben stumbled, overcome by his own silent arousal.

“How about…” Jac continued, lowering his hand down Ben’s shoulder until it reached the guy’s tight buns. Ben gasped and sighed with lust as his ass was cupped and rubbed by the guy he looked up to most in the entire world. “How about we go back to your room?” Jac finally suggested, smiling wickedly.

Five times. That was how many jerk-offs Jac witnessed Ben doing as they were together in his room. He smiled and laughed to himself as he went back into his own bedroom, realising that things were suddenly going to get a lot easier for him. By the time he’d left Ben, a strange bloating had started to fill his stomach and even his face had a new, surprising fullness to it. The poor boy had fallen asleep, his body exhausted by the chemistry going on within it.

“Rob!” Jac grinned, stepping out of his room the moment he heard Rob getting ready to leave for his first class. He was still on a high from his encounter with Ben, and so, seducing Rob would be no problem at all. However, the moment Rob laid eyes on him, Jac could detect the pungenat smell of arousal coming from the chubby boy; as if Jac had now unlocked something within him that even he could not stop. “Have you got a minute?” he asked, pushing Rob back into his own bedroom.

Jac looked around, seeing copious amounts of workout gear and weights across the floor. Rob had clearly developed a bit of a complex about his new shape and it was hard for Jac to not laugh as he imagined Rob in here, trying to burn off his extra pounds each evening; his fresh fat jiggling and bouncing; the shimmer of sweat across his softer exterior.

“What’s the matter?” Rob asked, wondering why Jac had invited himself into his room.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Jac began, hearing Rob’s heart racing with lust. “I’ve started to develop these strange feelings… for you,” he explained, pretending to feel embarrassed to be sharing his emotions like this. “Sometimes, I get the impression that maybe you feel the same way.” He hid his face in his hands. “Or… I don’t know. Am I just imagining this, Rob?”

“You’re not imagining anything,” Rob replied, pulling Jac’s hands away from his face. “I think…I think I’m in love with you.”

Jac smiled, holding back another urge to laugh. Rob was in love with him already? This was almost too funny for words. “I want to kiss you,” Jac whispered, then waited as Rob leaned in. After that, in a frenzy of lust, the chubby boy was stripped of everything he wore. He came, serveral times, in Jac’s company over the next two hours. The size of his stomach by the time Jac left was wonderful to behold: rounded and properly bellied, there wouldn’t be a thing left in the fool’s closet that would cover it entirely. Now there was just the issue of Sam…

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” Jac nodded, getting involved in petty dorm gossip for the first time, simply because the subject matter was so delightfully entertaining. “I see them in the kitchen all the time, drinking beer and stuffing their greedy faces on chips and snacks,” he lied, successfully painting a picture of the three boys as nothing more than fat slobs.

“I used to really have a thing for Rob,” the girl next to Jac admitted, making the others shudder at the thought. “Not any more though!”

“I heard a rumour that Sam’s been kicked off the football team indefinitely.”

“I’m not surprised. He hasn’t been going to training for quite some time,” Jac added in, knowing full well that Sam was far too embarrassed by the tremendous amount of fat he’d gained; a giant gut that had to be seen to be believed. Unsurprisingly, his new body was finding it rather difficult to adapt itself for any of his usal athletic pursuits.

Jac felt no shame or guilt as he went back to his room. He simply smirked and carried the brightest smile on his face. He’d barely been there more than a few seconds when a knock came on his door and a fat, horny looking Rob, wearing a t-shirt that didn’t quite cover the giant bulge of his new stomach, stood at his doorway, hoping to be invited in. With a chuckle of glee, Jac pulled him inside and smacked his doughy ass as the highly aroused boy began excitedly undressing himself. Next there came a second knock and Sam was standing there, looking much the same. He seemed confused when he entered and saw Rob already inside. Jac decided to not play into the typical macho jealousy that could easily play out, and he kissed them both, explaining that if they wanted to enjoy his company that evening, they would have to learn to share.

As if on cue, Ben arrived at the door next, entering with shock, seeing that Rob was already sprawled on the bed, stroking his erection and moaning. Howver, he soon aclimatised to the situation and within no time at all, Jac’s three little piggies were worshipping him, moaning and coming again and again. Despite their little pot bellies, all three of them were beginning to suffer terribly with back fat and Jac laughed, seeing the markings of their tight underwear written across their chubby bodies; held tightly in the grip of brand new obesity. As they left some time later, it was obvious that they’d swelled up even more. Rob couldn’t even pull up the zipper of his new pants, let alone try to button them.

“You know, you boys are really going to have to go on a diet,” Jac told them, doing his best to keep a straight face. He admired the once fit athletes with absolute satisfaction. They’d never lose this weight with the formula inside of them, and they would continue to swell every time their horny brains thought of him; tugging themselves off in the middle of the night and waking up even fatter than the day before. But in that moment, Jac knew with complete certainty that he was ready to move on; ready to find his next victims…

The following day, an irritatingly good looking guy on the next floor had the misfortune of meeting Jac on the stairs on the way down to his first class. He never made it out of the building, guzzling cookies that Jac had laced with his formula and subsequently spending the entire morning jacking off with him in his bedroom.

Jac’s social calendar suddenly became a lot busier as he started making an effort at going to all of the athletic clubs and events that Sam, Ben and Rob had been nagging him about since the start of the year. He smirked, looking around and realising that they really were excellent places to meet the types of guys he was most interested in messing with. He chose a young, strapping wrestler one night and proceeded to select from the baseball team the next. The football team was undeniably his favourite though. There they seemed to worship size and masculinity. It was a concept that Jac found almost too enticing for words, as he arrived each training session with a special treat for at least one of them.

Jac was having the time of his life, picking them off one by one. But of all the football players, Max was undeniably the one that he most wanted to add to his collection of fat boys. Tall, strapping and with a face more handsome than any of the others, Jac had been saving this particular pretty-boy for a later date; allowing the stud to watch all of his fellow players inexplicably becoming fatter and fatter, before quitting altogether. Amongst a few of the decidedly pot bellied boys who were two or three weeks into their emerging obesity, Max’s body shone out like that of a Greek god’s. Jac could see him looking with concern at his friends’ blubbery bodies with mild repulsion. However, tonight, Jac had decided, was going to be Max’s turn. He’d prepared a protein oat bar, laced with his special formula, ready to be offered to the unreasonably handsome young man. Then, after the training, with all of the hot and sweaty guys, Jac stood, completely naked, chatting to them all and smirking at the way theyl had to hide their crotches from him.

Jac was so used to the attention now. He loved every minute of having the boys admiring him; especially those newly doughy ones who would no doubt return to their dorms or frat houses and jack themselves off just thinking about him. A couple of the guys even tried to sneakily take pictures of his naked body with their cell phones; a practice that Jac definitely approved of and strategically ignored. Much like the way Mikey had discreetly stolen his underwear last week and returned this week with an ass that looked softer than a marshmallow.

“Where’s Max gone?” Jac asked, suddenly sensing that the scent of Max had dropped out, even before he turned around and saw that he was nowhere to be seen. He could have kicked himself. He’d only turned his back for a minute.

“It’s his girlfriend’s birthday,” one of the other boys explained; Eddie, a casually funny and stocky young guy that Jac had earmarked for his formula next week. Given that the boy was already a little thicker in the butt than some of the other guys, Jac was keen to see how his body would grow once he’d been seduced and dealt with accordingly.

It was a conundrum. Jac could have quickly dressed and chased after Max, or he could simply shift his schedule around a little bit. Max could wait.

“So, Eddie. Do you want to grab a drink with me tonight?”

The next morning. Jac slipped out his files and sighed at the thought of having to sit through an hour of Professor Lee’s inferior teaching. Achieving staggeringly high grades had made Jac the focus of many of the professors, and his absence in classes was always noted more than anyone else’s. But, being here allowed him to stay in the campus, finding new potential guys to use his formula on each and every day. The trade off was just about worth it.

As Jac opened his file to slip in the useless handouts that Professor Lee had just given out, he immediately saw something new; an envelope with his name written across the front in a perfect, cursive style. His heart raced. How had someone got into his bag without him noticing? He was so careful and alert when he was out and about; it didn’t seem possible. There was also a surprisingly unfamiliar scent to it, unlike anyone he had ever come across here in the college.

Jac waited until everyone else had left the lecture hall, dismissing anyone who tried to coax him into going for a coffee afterwards, or attempt to conduct their inane conversation with him. When alone, he pulled it out once more and gave a final look over his shoulder. Inside was a letter, written in the same beautiful handwriting; its contents making Jac’s heart race even more.

I know what you did, Jac.

Go to the lobby of the Grand Hotel tomorrow evening at 8pm.

Seeing the slight ink bleed through the paper, Jac turned it over and gasped. There, written in the form of a long list, spaced over two columns, were the full names of each person he had brought down with his formula. Not a single victim had been left off the list. Now Jac’s senses were on full alert. Someone had been watching him; following him even. They must have known everything.

Jac was about to be exposed.

That evening and the following day, Jac considered ignoring the instruction, but never for any serious length of time. Whoever it was that had sent that letter, they were smart and cunning. And, as unlikely as it seemed, Jac regarded them, for the time being at least, as somewhat of an equal to himself. It was always better to overestimate a foe, and it wouldn’t do to have someone like that running around. Whoever it was, whatever they wanted, it would all need to be dealt with, and quickly.

The Grand Hotel was located in the heart of the city. The lobby was large and spacious; grand, just as to be expected.

“May I help you?” asked a good looking guy at the reception desk, just five or so years older than Jac. He clearly had a very nice physique, with dark brown hair and a smile that must have melted the hearts of all the women who came in here. How typical of this place to put their best looking guy on the front desk, Jac thought, chuckling to himself. His immediate thought was of his formula. He could tempt the boy away from his desk, feed him something and then return each week to see its effects.

“No, thank you,” Jac replied, reminding himself that he wasn’t here looking for victims. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

“Ah!” the boy nodded, looking up at the large, decorative clock and seeing the time. “That’ll be Mr Ernst.” His smile seemed to grow brighter as he mentioned the name. “And here he is, just on time,” he declared, eyes sparkling as he looked over Jac’s shoulder.

Jac turned to see an incredibly handsome and tall man come walking towards him. His shirt draped over his beautifully toned body and he wore formal dress pants with a slimline belt that suggested he was here for business. His hair was blonde and cut into a style that was perfect for his beautiful face; a face that looked stern and unimpressed at the sight of Jac before him. “Thank you, John. I will take things from here,” the man declared in his deep voice.

Jac’s nostrils flared. The scent of this man was undoubtedly the same as that he had sensed on the letter, but it was still confusing to him. Mr Ernst didn’t smell like any of the other men around him. He was somehow different.

The man turned, without greeting Jac in any way and started leading back towards the elevator. They stood silently, waiting for the doors to close, beginning the journey up to the very top floor without a single word being spoken. Once there, Mr Ernst led the way again, pulling out a card from his wallet to let them into a room.

Jac tried to hold back his surprise as he saw the lavishness of the hotel room he had just entered. The suite had an incredible view of the city, being large and spacious, with plenty of places to sit and relax. Jac closed the door on them and followed Mr Ernst as he sat down at a sofa and pointed to the one opposite it for Jac to sit and join him. It was the first form of actual communication that he had offered at all.

Sitting down, Jac knew that he was only to speak when spoken to. He didn’t have the upperhand in this situation. Not yet at least. And, after the dingy college dorms, the surroundings he now found himself in were taking a little bit of time to get used to.

“So, you’re the one who has been causing me such a headache,” Mr Ernst began. His voice was deep, with a slight hint of irritation. Jac remained silent. “Your ingenuity was impressive. Not many could create a formula like that with so little experience. But your application was sloppy. So many boys in such a small community. You were always asking for trouble. You don’t mind getting caught? Exposed? All your talents wasted!”

Jac swallowed. This man really did know everything.

“You will fall into line,” Mr Ernst declared. “You will follow my orders only from now on.”

“And why should I do that?” Jac tried; attempting to make his voice sound a lot more confident than he felt.

Mr Ernst seemed pleased by Jac’s momentary resistance, but he was undoubtedly someone who could not be toyed with. Like a hungry lion, Jac had the sense that he was a man who could turn on him in an instant.

“Because, I will show you how you can have just as much fun, without ever getting caught. You’re not the only one, you know. There are many of us all over the world. Higher beings, with a distaste for the arrogance of the athletic and slender. There are many of us, all growing up, finding ourselves as you now have. And we all have exactly the same drive. We do, as you do; although not in quite the same way…”

“You fatten them?” Jac asked, his voice full of awe and wonder. His whole life he had felt so entirely alone. Now he was hearing that there were more people like him. More people who understood magic and the motivations that drove him. “How?”

Mr Ernst grinned wickedly. “I’m pleased that you asked.” He stood up, just as a knock came at the door. “Watch and learn,” he declared, as he walked towards the door.

Jac recognised the voice as soon as he heard it. Max, the football star he had been saving, was stood there, making eyes at Mr Ernst as if he was deeply in love with him. “Hello again, Evan,” he smiled in delight.

“Come in,” cheered Mr Ernst; his tone now more pleasant and friendly; lighter and enthusiastic; keen to see the tall footballer at his door. “I believe you know Jac here,” he pointed towards the sofa.

“I thought it would just be us,” Max replied, actually sounding a little disappointed to see Jac there. He followed Mr Ernst and sat next to him, as close as he could on the couch; kicking off his shoes to get comfortable, like a typically expectant jock.

Jac could see that Mr Ernst, or ‘Evan’ as Max seemed to be calling him, was doing exactly the same to Max as he had done to countless other men, making them fall madly in lust with him. Young and horny, Max seemed almost incapable of bearing it. As soon as he sat down next to Evan, one hand slid over his shoulder and another began to stroke the man’s thigh. He didn’t care that Jac was there; he was so overcome with arousal, it was clear that he just wanted Evan to turn to him and make love right there and then.

“Can you smell it yet?” the wicked man asked, looking directly at Jac. “The sweat?” He then turned to Max, encouraging his attentions by kissing him deeply and passionately. Max’s hardness looked ready to burst out his pants, and as they kissed, his fingers worked to unbutton Evan’s shirt. But after releasing a couple of them, Mr Ernst stopped him. “I think you should take off your shirt first,” he grinned excitedly.

Max didn’t need telling twice. Immediately, he stood up and pulled his t-shirt straight off his long torso. Mr Ernst hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned the sweat, for although Max’s athletic body was the envy of most guys, his chest glistened with sweat, like he had just rubbed oil all over himself. He sat again, pressing his body up against Evan like he was determined to ignore the fact that Jac was there at all.

“This disgusting brute had one single dose of my formula almost exactly four hours ago,” Evan explained directly to Jac. As he spoke, his hand rubbed over Max’s hardness, making the horny jock moan aloud, not listening to a word that was said. “You let him slip through your fingers…”

Jac felt the sting of accusation. Evan was right, he’d had the opportunity to use his own formula on Max and he hadn’t taken it.

“No mercy,” Evan stated very clearly and almost threateningly. “None of them ever escape. You will never let something like that happen again.”

Jac shook his head, sensing that he would be wise to agree with Evan’s demands, no matter what they were. “What’s going to happen to him?” he asked openly, given how indiscreet Evan was already being, and how mindless with lust Max already seemed.

Evan turned to Max and looked him directly in the eyes. “He’s in for a BIG treat!” he whispered, before turning back to Jac and laughing at his own private joke.

“Can we take this into the bedroom?” asked a desperately horny Max, with eyes only for Evan.

“It’s time to stand up,” Evan nodded, watching the seconds tick by on his watch. He patted Max’s slimline butt and ushered the guy away from the couch and into the middle of the space where Jac could have the perfect view. Jac felt overwhelmingly excited. Above the stink of sweat coming from Max’s body, there was an undeniable cocktail of hormones bubbling away inside the football star, waiting for ignition. “Ten seconds!” Evan chuckled, stepping back slightly to get a good look at Max’s physique for himself

Max was beyond help. Even with Jac there, he slipped his hand down into his pants and began tugging himself off. “Come on, baby! Stop teasing me. Come to bed…”

Evan laughed and stared at his watch. “Five… Four…”

“You’re so fucking hot!” Max growled, stroking his dick with ferocity.

“Three… Two… One…”

Jac gasped, not quite knowing what would happen, but excited for it nonetheless. Even before Evan triumphantly declared ‘zero’, the look on Max’s face changed. His eyes squinted like a sudden sharp pain had taken him; his free hand sliding onto his stomach. He growled, folding over slightly until, with his mouth agape, a loud, rumbling burp rose up from his throat.

“Come and look! It’s fantastic!” Evan declared; his voice uncharacteristically full of joy and delight. Jac could see Max’s hips start to rock backwards and forwards. Evan slapped Max’s hand, resting on his aching stomach. “Move it!” he demanded. “I want to see!” He laughed aloud and Jac’s eyes widened in elation at the marvel of what he was seeing. The skin on Max’s stomach, although sweaty, looked puffier and softer. As his hips rocked, it wasn’t immediately obvious what was happening, but soon there was no denying it: Max’s stomach was pushing outwards, forming a small paunch within a matter of seconds; even as his hand remained clamped on his own hardness, just as it had been before.

“He’s getting fatter!” Jac laughed, standing in front of Max and seeing the spaced-out expression of shock and submission on the guy’s face.

Evan tugged down at Max’s pants, making them slide down around his ankles. Then, with a delighted surge of energy, he slapped Max’s now naked butt, holding his hand there. His other hand drifted onto Max’s paunch, rubbing it gleefully. “Atta boy!” he whispered teasingly, clearly just as aroused as Jac was. “It’s time to become a great big, fat piggy-boy for me!”

Jac reached out his hand, feeling the growing arch of Max’s new stomach fat. He grabbed a wedge of skin around what had become the start of very real love handles, and jiggled in disbelief. Under the surface, real fat was amassing with remarkable speed. He reached back to feel Max’s rear, once so slender and pert, but now bloating quickly and expanding; widening and softening. Evan’s fingers draped over the other butt cheek, feeling its growth and bouncing the glute as the weight of it became more and more pronounced.

A small double chin was starting to frame Max’s face and Jac couldn’t resist touching that too. There was blubber forming underneath the boy’s nipples and they also began to jiggle under the consistent sway of Max’s hips. Onwards the jock’s stomach pushed out, filling his middle like an inflating tire. Soon, there was a definite shelf forming under the boy’s softening chest, with his new belly starting to lunge from his hips. He seemed to lose his balance slightly, wobbling on his feet until he’d stepped out of his old clothes entirely. Only his socks now remained in place. Jac immediately bent down to pick up the empty clothes, saving the fattening boy from tripping again. He paused, gazing in awe at the tiny underwear that the handsome young man had been wearing only moments ago. Evan seemed to catch on, laughing wickedly as well, before grabbing the underwear and holding up them like a prize, dangling them in front of Max’s face: a monument to what the stud had once been and would never be again.

The gut on Max now looked so solid and set in, it was hard to believe that the guy had ever been anything but overweight. But now the formula seemed to be tightening its grip further. Max growled and winced as his round belly inflated outwards in all directions. He let go of his hardness at last, seeming to instinctively raise his arms a little as his belly and chest visibly grew with remarkable speed. Evan’s elation was contagious, as the man patted and grabbed at the expanding fat, even as it swelled into Max’s arms and thighs. All of a sudden, the football star seemed utterly enormous, yet he was still growing; swelling with pure fat all over his body and groaning as it took him over completely. It was hard to comprehend the size of him as the man’s nipples slid down his chest: four hundred pounds? Four-fifty? Five hundred? More?

Max appeared to faint and between them, Evan and Jac caught him, holding the monstrously obese man up with ease given their remarkable and inexplicable strength. Together they lowered him to the carpet, watching the large, doughy ass spread as it met the floor. Soon he was lying back completely. Fat bulged in new and exciting ways all over his enormous form. Jac stared down at the face, buried underneath gigantic cheeks and draped with a remarkable double chin that spread itself around the lower half of his head; entirely robbing of a neck. Chuckling to himself, Jac wondered: would anyone even recognise him anymore?

“When it wakes up, it’ll think it’s always been this fat,” Evan explained, now calm and restrained once more. He looked down on Max like a conquered enemy, gloating in the glory of victory. “Everyone else will think it too. Reality is warping all around him,” the man explained, holding up his hands and touching the air as if he could feel it working, even now. He sniggered and lightly kicked Max’s body to see the waves of fat ripple across the enormous torso, then walked back to the couch; pointing directly at the one opposite for Jac to do the same; just as when he had first arrived. “Tomorrow you will come to the meeting I am holding here. There you will see all of them; all of the men just like you. All of them lost and alone until I found them and brought them together. I will show them my new formula, just as I have done with you tonight. You will see it in action once more. Then you will leave and use it yourself, on any man your heart desires. Five a day! Six! One hundred! I want them all to feel my magic within them.” He looked harshly at Jac, his eyes darkening with shadows. “Is this something you think you could do?” he asked in a dangerous tone.

Jac gazed once more at the enormously obese football star, still lying unconscious on the floor. Neither one of their lives would ever be the same again after tonight. He turned his gaze to Evan and held stare firmly.

“Yes,” he declared with absolute certainty; knowing that it was a vow that he would gladly let consume his entire being for the rest of his days.

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littlemusic-muse · 4 months

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For @bsdfanweek

Day 5: Soulmates | Alternate Universe | “Are we fighting or flirting?”

Thought it would be fun to do a Hades!Chuuya and Persephone!Dazai. Have not seen it done before, so why not?

Inspirations: Helm of Darkness Sheep Version and also the King of Sheep Skull for young chuuya was too fitting.

More rambling on this AU Below Since I have a lot of thoughts:

I have seen a lot of Hades! Dazai and Persephone! Chuuya and many of those fics are really good. But in the case of Soukoku, I have not seen a fic/art piece where Dazai is Persephone with Chuuya as Hades. Ao3 has Dazai in different pairings when he is Persephone.

One video that inspired me is overly sarcastic production's YouTube myth video on Hades and Persephone and this fic. I was introduced to the concept that Persephone and Demeter's origin is much older than Hades, though they were still wrapped up with the king of the dead, which is not Hades, but ancient Poseidon. They also have a lot of spooky lore surrounding them where they were feared to the point they were not talked about. Persephone could be considered more powerful because she is linked to the Underworld and entitled to a lot of secrets. At this point, I had decided to draw Dazai as Persephone and Chuuya as Hades.

Also, there is the line: Dread Persephone and Stalward Hades. Persephone has been considered the more frightening one out of the two, though both are terrifying.

Few bullet points on them

Cerberus is a dog. And somehow Chuuya owning a three-headed dog when he canonically loves dogs seems fitting

Persephone has way too much fear-based symbolism and is known as the queen of the dead. Dazai is feared reputation-wise but also can be seen surface-level as friendly.

Both Hades and Persephone have wrath-based tales in which if someone outside of their relationships flirts/tests the relationship with one of them, the other will reign the wrath on them.

#skkvalentinesweek #soukoku #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #hades and persephone AU #alternative universe #bsd fanart #my art #Lil[Muse]_art #art #bsd #bungou stray dogs

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droughtofapathy · 1 month

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"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

The Great Gatsby

All the sparkly costumes and grandiose set pieces can't disguise this show's intellectually and musically filthy core. With a creative team that seems to have missed the entire point of Fitzgerald's book, Bad Gatsby is a Vegas spectacle best suited to theme parks and audiences bereft of critical thought. I have no loyalty to the source material. As a lesbian, I didn't much care for the book and its protagonist who seems disinterested in women, and spent pages waxing poetry about the male physique. But even I know it's a classic brimming with intellectual nuance, while this production is anything but. The relationship between Gatsby and Nick is now only ever a passing acquaintance, rather than the very foundation. The show's aggressive heterosexuality sees Nick and Jordan (a forcibly-feminized, pick-me girlboss type) romping about as Gatsby and Daisy, somehow even duller than the book (and how was that ever possible?) sing power ballads at and about each other that say nothing, and move the plot even less.

This adaptation of the beloved classic novel gleefully excises any and all purpose. Nick's idolization and homoerotic love for Gatsby drives the book's narrative. Here, he's doing basically nothing. My kingdom for a dramaturg who seems to actually like and understand the book, rather than someone who just wants to capitalize on it being newly public-domain. Why, oh why, do people keep adapting classics they clearly do not like? I don't like Gatsby, so I'd never bother to write a musical adaptation of it.

And speaking of music, it's ill-suited to both the period and the story. Everything is all contemporary pop ballad, and as someone who doesn't care about or know much of Jeremy Jordan, it's not working. Perhaps it's my blatant lesbianism and pretentious disregard for the allure of youth, but he's never seemed overly remarkable. He's a white male tenor. There are fifteen-thousand who look and sound just like him. But from the constant shrieking up in the mezzanine, you'd have thought the Beatles had come back for a one-night-only reunion. Thankfully, in my front side-orchestra section, I was surrounded by older patrons who politely clapped and refrained from any such screaming. Also, Jeremy Jordan's accent is all over the place, and I can't imagine why.

The shallow production that sits in the (possibly cursed, at this point) Broadway Theatre, has been robbed of its social commentary, its purpose, its depth. The characters are caricatures, the subtext is spelled out on a chalkboard (A song entitled "The Green Light"???) and is in some fascinating way, a meta commentary in and of itself. A massive budget allows for not one, but two working cars to drive around on stage. The glitz and glam blinded the creatives to anything...creative.

And don't even get me started on the baffling decision to cast a Mexican-Asian woman as Daisy, the quintessential image of white privilege. What are we saying by having Eva Noblezada in that role? It's such a thankless role that it's not like her talents are being utilized. And her character is so weak and dull, even more so than the book itself. And she's out here doing a hit-and-run, and yet we're just gonna...gloss right over that, I guess? And Nick's disgusted by Jordan saying they shouldn't tell the police what they know, but then immediately goes to plead with Gatsby to get out of town? Having done no work in the show to justify this loyalty, it's just inconsistency.

Also, and now I'm just jumping around to things I didn't like, the scene where Gatsby gets shot is staged so that Wilson is pointing and shooting that gun right at the front right orchestra section. And staring down the barrel of a gun is not what I want to be doing on a Saturday evening at 10:30 p.m. He shoots that thing twice while pointed at the audience, and no thanks.

Anyway, the Florence Welch Gatsby is at the ART now, so let's hope that one actually understands the damn book.

Verdict: Someone Put This Dumpster Fire Out

A Note on Ratings

#the great gatsby #broadway #welcome to the theatre: diary of a broadway baby #musical theatre #theatre #i'm so tired of bad musicals i just need to see kimberly akimbo today and have my faith restored #and my heart broken...final performance

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bohemian-nights · 3 months

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As a WOC, I will never be able to sympathize with Rhaenyra. She’s such an over privileged and lazy person. I just can’t bring myself to sympathize with her for getting usurped because I feel like that’s mainly her fault for being lazy and thinking she’s entitled to everything.

And then we have nettles. A girl who comes from nothing. She manages to claim a wild dragon, she fights for Rhaenyra’s cause and how does Rhaenyra repay her? By trying to murder her. How can anyone sympathize with Rhaenyra over nettles? This white woman’s trauma and paranoia do not excuse her trying to kill a black woman.

So many of her Stans like to pretend they have the moral high ground while also defending Rhaenyra trying to murder nettles.

Yeah, that’s my main complaint with her and why I get so frustrated when people think I’m being mean, petty, or overly critical about her character.

Yes, she is objectively a victim of the patriarchy, but she’s also a privileged white woman who tried to exercise her privilege by attempting to commit a racially motivated hate crime against a Black woman(Nettles).

And yes she’s a fictional character, but there have been so many women throughout history who have behaved in that same exact manner. Women who despite being discriminated against based on their sex still managed to punch down and ruin real lives, separated families, and got innocents killed all at their command.

I don’t know if this was GRRM's intention, but from my perspective as a Black woman, Rhaenyra is just another reflection of that painful history. She’s not someone I can project onto and see myself in even though she’s a woman. She’s still very much just a part of the machine(just in a feminine form).

Before anyone comes for me, it’s perfectly fine if you like Rhaenyra. Again she’s fictional, but not acknowledging what she represents and how she’s both oppressed and an oppressor means that you don’t acknowledge her victims or see the importance of characters like Nettles.

And if you have a hard time acknowledging and understanding how a fictional Black woman is being victimized by a white woman I doubt you’ll have a much easier time dealing with real life victims of racial violence.

Not to mention the fact that it’s incredibly offensive to see things like Nettles should be cut because there are five other Black-ish people in a mostly white cast and she’s unimportant and people only like her because she’s Black and yet have people swear up and down they don’t have a racist bone in their body.

This isn’t even getting into the people who have literally used the n-word compared Black characters to animals, and mocked Black hair and features. Just know you guys are the same cause racism isn’t limited to spewing out slurs.

Those statements(which are solely focused on her race) are very much rooted in anti-Blackness. Those statements are the epitome of reducing someone down to just their skin color and dismissing them because of that. Nettles may be fictional, but you are using racist tropes that have been pushed on Black(that we somehow aren’t deserving of our positions in life and are only where we are because of quotas and wokeness) to trash her character.

Nettles is an incredibly interesting character. Hell, even George finds her fascinating.

Of all the secondary characters in F&B she’s the one who he wanted to write a novella about. Her story has all the tropes that people usually like. Girl from nothing who despite all odds makes it and thrives. She’s there to teach a lesson, but they don’t see her worth because she’s Black. All they see is a Black face who they think doesn’t belong since she’s not a walking stereotype.

I’m not exactly shocked by this behavior, but it’s still stlrange asf to see people who scream up and down about misogyny(which is valid) then go on and perpetuate misogynoir without blinking an eye.

#bnasks #bnask #nettles #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti rhaenyra stans #fandom racism

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master-of-the-railway · 2 months

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Sue me for this if you wish but I think Big World Big Adventures: The Movie wasn't actually as bad as everyone says it is and it's high time we gave it the appreciation it deserves, like it's a bit too overhated in my opinion. Maybe it's just my inability to be overly mean and aggressive abt pieces of media that line up with comfort interests but I genuinely don't get the hate towards the BWBA movie....like nothing was bad abt it in my own opinion? The songs were fire all the way through, the visuals are very pretty (the LIGHTING!!!), and I mean like Nia is there and how can you possibly hate anything that features Nia she CARRIES that movie so hard. I've seen some ppl say the movements are too much but like...it makes the engines far more expressive and I highly prefer them having a bit more movement to being entirely stiff because being stiff restricts their expressiveness even more, and tbh realism was left behind the second the cgi series made its debut (Ex: D51s were first produced in 1936 and yet Hiro was somehow the first engine on the island of Sodor) so I don't really look for realism too hard when it comes to TTTE because I mean...the trains talk and are fully sentient, and that's already grounds enough for me suspend my disbelief a TON.

Maybe it is just my Nia bias (AND YONG BAO IS THERE AT ONE POINT!!! Absolutely love him.) but I think BWBA is pretty good, it's one of my favorite TTTE movies. It's just really whack that half the fandom seems to hate or at least mildly dislike this movie, which was a huge shocker to me because I was happy stimming the ENTIRE time on my first watch. It was fun and colorful and expressive and thinking about how it introduced so many international machines to the lineup...like I physically cannot hate a movie that caters to my favorite thing EVER in shows with sentient machines (seeing the machines from other countries). I don't mind the fact that ppl dislike it at all (bc everyone's entitled to their own opinions and all that jazz) but it's more just I can't really find any negatives about it, the only character introduced in it that I dislike is the one they (assumedly) want you to dislike and even then I gotta admit his song slaps. To each their own in the end, I suppose, but the point I'm trying to make is that I think we gotta be at least a LITTLE bit nicer abt this movie. (And if anyone interacts w/ this post, please don't like. Start fights on it or anything. This post isn't mean to spark any discourse or aggression, it's just my personal thoughts that I'm sharing with the fandom because so far all of you that I've met are EXTREMELY kind and understanding and so I trust you all to be normal abt it.)

#ttte #thomas and friends #thomas & friends #Hero of The Rails is my favorite TTTE movie of all time tho :)#always will be #but yeah everytime I've seen someone talk abt this film they rarely say positive things which is just fine y'know-#-it's not like I'm mortally wounded over the fact that ppl don't like it #I just find myself unable to see what could possibly be so bad about it #but that's kind of just a me problem I suppose lmao

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ftmtftm · 5 months

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meh I feel like the “feminine men egg joke” is like. Not the nicest most respectful thing you can say about someone on the internet. But I don’t think it’s its own problem so much as an extension of the internet’s propensity to boil people down into stereotypes and entitlement to other people’s identites? Like “I know what you are better than you do” combined with “there are distinct types of people” thinking. However I wouldn’t call it invasive like that one post does, and also I’m always a lil wary of people calling trans people weird and creepy because yknow.

That's kinda the thing though, I'm not talking about the way it impacts feminine cis men at all - I'm talking about the way I've seen it deteriorate trans people's relationships to each other in real life offline.

I do agree that there is something to be wary of wrt language like "weird" and "creepy" depending on the motives of the speaker. Also though, this isn't just an internet issue - it's kind of becoming a trans culture issue and? Trans people absolutely have the capacity to be invasive, insensitive assholes like everyone else.

Like, I talked about my best friend in my post, right? Just for context in this ask, they're AMAB and nonbinary and the problem they have had with egg jokes has stemmed from our real life friendships with several of our real life friends and their real life social circles in person, offline. And that is extremely invasive!

Just as an example, my friend did their Shaggy Scooby Doo impression in front of a bunch of trans fem acquaintances at a gay bar the other night and they all made it into a joke about "Are you sure you're not actually trans fem?" (with the implication being that having a good Shaggy impression is somehow a universal trans fem experience) and it made my friend, rightfully, really uncomfortable!

It was a space they should have felt comfortable being themself as a nonbinary person in and instead near strangers became overly-familiar and acted towards them with a sense of entitlement towards their identity. That is invasive. That is insensitive, and if we're gonna be more casual about it? That is weird and uncool and kinda creepy in a "that is not how you treat someone you just met who is practically a stranger to you" way.

If you behave that way towards strangers online, you're likely to start behaving that way towards strangers in real life if you aren't careful and that is genuinely fucked up and dehumanizing. It would be anyway, but it is especially so considering the people on the receiving end of it explicitly feel dehumanized afterwards.

#asks #anon

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sofoulandfairaday · 10 months

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1 for the ask game

from: choose violence ask game

1. the character everyone gets wrong

Err... all of them? I'm not even kidding. More on this here.

Bellatrix: fortunately there's been progress in the fandom, but for years everyone loved to describe her as an overly sexualized, crazy, shrieking mindless slave, when she's actually quite the opposite. She is sadistic, but not insane, she's passionate but not irrational (she is the only one who knew Snape was a traitor; to me, it's because of a peculiar mix of rationality and intuition that shows her to be actually quite intelligent). Nothing suggests her being promiscuous in the text and I would actually argue the opposite of her (why would she ever lower herself to sleep with someone who she deems her inferior - so basically everyone -, even just to satisfy mere physical desires? This post, to me, is Bella at her core).

Narcissa: this is canon Narcissa, all of you are perfectly entitled to your soft babygirl headcanons, of course, but then again you are perfectly entitled to be wrong <3 [also, shameless self-promo: x]

The blorboification continues for every single member of the Black family and I hate it so much you have no idea:

Andromeda: somehow described as a soft little girl who loved her mean, mean sisters so much and had to run away? Bitch stood up to seven centuries of tradition, and abandoned her sisters and parents, to marry a boy she had fallen in love with maybe two years prior (we know this based on Tonks' age). Good for her, but as I have said previously, both Narcissa and Andromeda (and Sirius, really) strike me as a bit selfish. The one with the romantic attachment to the idea of her family, the child most like Walburga, is Bellatrix.

But this is nothing, NOTHING, compared to what this fandom does to Regulus and Sirius.

Regulus: canonically a Voldemort fanboy, with newspaper clippings of him everywhere, and a blood supremacist. Sirius says it better than anyone: Reggie is soft. But not in the way the fandom believes, nope. He's just a coward who, much like Draco years later, was super excited to be like Bellatrix (Lucius) until he realized what killing really meant, what fighting a war really was, and most importantly because Voldemort touched him personally (Kreacher, whom he loved). Voldemort was probably a little more deranged than he had been at the beginning of the First War, and someone that had inherited the Black pride/haughtiness probably didn't like being branded like cattle and treated like a slave, on top of everything else.

Sirius: fanon Sirius is basically another character. Canon!Sirius is: tall, canonically incredibly handsome, quite masculine (in an explicit and toxic way, especially as a teenager in the fucking 1970s - the skirt-wearing, feminist one-liners spouting version of Sirius is something I just cannot get behind), a dick, a bit classist ((don't come @ me with your "oh, but what about Moony?!" because a) we don't know Remus' wealth when Lyall and Hope were still alive, we only know he can't get a job as an adult because of his condition and b) Remus is Sirius' exception, in the same way Lily is Snape's when he calls her a Mudblood - everyone else is in his eyes)), brave to the point of recklessness, quite cruel, funny, witty, magically talented, loyal to a fault, extremely charismatic and everything else outlined here. For the same reasons, I'll say Remus too.

Don't even get me started on Severus Snape. Other people have spoken on this better than I could ever. At least here on Tumblr, though, it seems to me that things are getting a little better after years of absolutely bizarre takes. Or maybe I've blocked all of the idiots idk.

Dumbledore. More on this here and maybe I'll outline my ideas better in a future post.

Also: I do not accept any characterization of Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch jr, Reggie, and Rabastan Lestrange as anything less than violent blood supremacists. Yes, they can be nuanced and gay (and only for each other might I add), but these people are the KKK (metaphorically, of course, because I hate comparing real-world tragedies to completely fictional ones, but still).

Lucius: a complete dick, but definitely not abusive. The man couldn't raise a hand to Draco if the Dark Lord threatened to kill him over it.

Speaking of which: my darling Lord Voldemort. Not much to say about him really because I know that some people do write him in a very interesting way (and I am open to interpretations of his character even if they are different from how I see him - and I have a very fucking specific vision of him). The problem is that perhaps three (3) of these people write him with Bellatrix and that saddens me.

Now, I mostly read First Wizarding War stuff or Death Eater stuff so I can't really speak to many other characters, especially in Harry's generation, but anything other than cowardly Draco is not a good Draco characterization to me. Ron is hands-down the best one in the Golden Trio and Ron Weasley bashing is pathetic. Hermione has faults but is ultimately a strong, take-no-bullshit girl and I'll take that over basically any and all female YA protagonists. And Harry is sassiness personified, but with a heart of gold, and oh-so-caring. Which is also why I can't read dark!Harry for the life of me. It just makes me giggle.

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fandomwritingbit · 4 months

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You like him.

Henry Emily x (f)reader (employee)

Synop: You start to develop a crush on your overly nice and professional boss and can't tell if he feels the same way. So you have to ask.

Warnings: bad language, inappropriate relationship (boss/employee) William being a twat, Henry being lovely. Reader is outspoken and sarky.

A/n: I had/still have no idea where this is going, it's just a little thought I had, that I think I'm keep going with. Hope it's okay.

William wouldn’t be surprised by this. William wouldn’t be thanking god for sending you his way, he’d be thanking himself. William is entitled to this kind of thing after all, but Henry just isn’t.

He can’t seem to understand why you’d ever want him. He’s twice your age, he’s quiet and boring and you’re so not. You’re funny, probably one of the funniest people he’s ever met, always cracking jokes and sliding snide comments about customers his way, somehow able to switch between the bubbly customer service personality and your real sarcastic self, faster than the snap of fingers.

A small smile is alway on his face when you’re around. Making him grin to himself as he listens to you repeating an order back to yourself at the kiosk, “Three pepsi max, one normal pepsi. A fucking jug of mineral water. Two peroni, one with lime because they have no taste. Cordial: one blackcurrant, one orange… God, want me to wax your car for you too? Help you file tax returns? Knobheads.” He chuckles, immediately losing count of the cash he was sorting as soon as you started talking.

You smirk at him, that cheeky, utterly charming smirk that saved just for colleagues. “Sorry. They just couldn’t wait for me to get my notepad, nah they needed drinks right fucking now.” You punctuate your swearing by hitting the tab button on the till, the drawer opening with a loud clunk.

“Well it's been nearly 10 seconds since they sat down. You should know better.” He replies equally as sarcastically, his heavy brow raising and moving his glasses slightly. He was never the type to make fun of customers, especially while on the floor, but he can’t help but joke along with you, it’s just irresistible.

“Yeah, we should have remembered their order from last time and all. Very unprofessional.” You continue, now moving to grab a handful of menus for a table that was coming in through the door, your face set straight until they walk towards you and suddenly you’re wearing a bright service smile. “Hey there. Have we got a reservation today?”

You’re chatty with all your coworkers, trying to make the shifts somewhat fun just so they go that bit quicker, but you save a little extra camaraderie for your boss, Mr Emily. You can’t help it. His quiet and sensible personality just makes you want to make him laugh, humanise him a bit. At first he was so professional that he’d flush at your comments, thinking you were being serious but it soon became a wink-wink nudge-nudge situation. It amuses you how hard he has to try to be pissy, he’s just too nice. Kind and calm always, very much unlike his co-owner.

Yeah… you like him.

Well, fancy him more like. And you’re not ashamed or embarrassed by it, he’s a handsome man, but you worry that you’ll never really have a shot, because it’s inappropriate afterall. At least the joking and flirting is fun.

The two owners of the diner walk towards the back together, well, as close together as possible what with William’s stride that always seems to leave Henry a step and a half behind. He was so used to having a conversation with William’s shoulder that it didn’t really bother him anymore.

“It was a great night last night.” The man in the lead says, an avaricious grin on his face. Great doesn’t cover the absolute beauty of the accounts that he’d been going over all morning.

“Home or work?” Henry asks, completely lost to what William was even talking about.

He glances back, clearly amused, “Never home, Henry.” He’s only half joking, William is the only person who could put someone off a married family life, likening it to jail, which out of the two of them Will certainly knew more about.

“My mistake.” He shakes his head, knowing that his disapproval just tickled William more. “What, we did well then, last night?” He asks, continuing to push for context.

William stops walking right before the door to the staff rest area, forcing Henry to halt too whilst the other brings his head down to get closer to his eye-line. “Well doesn’t touch the sweet bit of turnover we did, had me hard as a rock doing the books earlier.” He snickers, god, annoying Henry just never gets old to him.

Henry winces, he’d forgotten how gross William could be when he was in a good mood. He settles on just dryly saying “Nice.” not wanting to give his partner the reaction he was hoping for.

Still sniggering, William pushes the door open and holds it behind him for Henry. You’re in the staff area, standing in front of your locker as you quickly change your shirt, the toilet was occupied and you’re already late, so exhibitionism it had to be. The shirt is halfway over your head when the door opens, you glance at who's coming in but don’t react, just continuing the action you’re in the middle of.

“Speaking of.” William grins, nudging Henry in an immature way to really hammer that inappropriate comment home. Inappropriate should be his middle name because as he walks past to head towards his office, he wolf-whistles at you, the crisp sound making you turn. You just laugh, you’ve been here long enough now to know your bosses well and you know that he’s just kidding around. Well, mostly.

“I’ll be a second.” Henry says to William as he goes to enter his office and he waves him off in response.

He gives you some space, turning away until he can no longer hear the sound of fabric rustling, confirming to him that you’ve finished getting changed.

You’re smiling the whole time you finish the action, it’s sweet of him to look away. “You alright?” You ask your boss, brushing down your trousers , now fully ready to slay some service.

He smiles back at you a little shy, mentally reprimanding himself for the heat on his face at seeing you changing. It’s nothing, other people do it, but other people turn around… he’s glad you didn’t but the flush to his cheeks makes him feel like a silly little kid. “Yeah, not too bad. You?”

“Keeping on, you know.” You reply, “You want to talk to me?” You then ask, a tone to your voice that mockingly says ‘what have I done, now?’.

He grins, “I uh just wanted to say that if you ever need to change - and the bathroom is busy - you can use my office. Provided I’m not in there, of course!” You giggle, you can’t help it, that fact that he’s this flustered is as amusing as it is nice.

God, sometimes he hates himself. “I just wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. You know-” He claws back his nerves, nodding towards William’s now closed office door.

You understand what he’s getting at, “Oh. Your man doesn’t make me uncomfortable. If anything it’s a bit of a boost for me before I get on the floor.” You’re joking, he knows you are, but it still gives him a pang of jealousy, as much as he decides to suppress it. “But that’s really nice of you to offer, I appreciate it.”

“It’s alright. Feel free to.”

You’re not sure why, but the impulse to try something flickers in your mind. To try your luck, see how he would react to you being more forward. You assume he knows that you like him, but maybe he doubts it, so why not be a little more obvious. “It does pose the question…” He looks at you, the look on your face is a little bit sly, your eyes narrowed in observation. “What if I came in to change and you were in your office?”

The question hangs in the air for a few moments before awkwardness obligates him to respond, he chuckles, again finding his face hot. “Well, uh. That would be up to you.” The second he says that he panics, you’re evidently amused but that doesn’t prevent the instant embarrassment. “- That sounded creepy. I didn’t mean it like that-”

You giggle, leaning a little closer to him, “It’s alright, I was leading you there. Don’t worry.” Your eyes soften then and realisation almost makes him flinch, you’re flirting, like really flirting, with him.

“But you wouldn’t mind?” You ask coyly, still grinning for all of england.

His expression is a little uncertain and he clears his throat, resisting the urge to pluck at his watch. “No- no, not at all.”

“Good to know.”

The surprise at that is still evident on his face when he finally gets around to going to William to see if these books are really so good they're arousing.

And to be frank they were, there was a huge spike in intake, even for a Saturday night and the tips were so good Henry wishes he was in so he could be included in the tip pool.

"We must have been fully booked, this is great." There's a hint of disbelief as he reads the individual tabs, it's a cheap restaurant, their demographic is families, but these tabs are closer to a proper establishment.

"Pretty much. A lot of walk-ins too." There's a smugness to William's delivery, like he was the main reason for such a good turnover. "Wasn't just that though."

"Oh?" Henry's brows are raised, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah, foxy lass out there worked some magic. I caught her briefing the others on upselling." Henry locks eyes with Will and can't contain the smile that takes over his face. "That one deserves a promotion."

"Yeah, absolutely. Head server, maybe even supervisor." This was unexpected, he knew you were competent but this says more than that, he's proud of you.

"I told her I'd give her my share of tips, you know, a little reward." He's laughing as he speaks, "And she goes," William put his hands on his hips in some kind of mimicry of your attitude, it's ridiculous enough that Henry is laughing before he even knows the joke. "There's no such thing as free money, what are you trying to pay for?"

He can picture you saying that, your eyes glinting with mischief, grinning at your own comment. It's that suggestive sarcasm you've mastered perfectly, different to the plain suggestive you were just minutes ago. Though both manage to leave him speechless.

Henry listens half-minded as William prattles on, gloating about something or other, he’s too wrapped up in thought to care really. He’ll have to do something nice for you, as a reward for rallying the troops. But it’s likely more for himself than you, and that doesn’t pass him by.

#fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #henry emily #henry emily x you #henry emily x reader #henry emily smut #william afton

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