black widow & ghost gray 2026 update! find them on af :) widow, gray

Thank you for your lovely asks < 3

Spurred on by the burning abjection to Scott’s air of superiority and sneering attempt at domination, Joel grinds his teeth in a growl and tears the soaking fabric of Scott’s shirt. The sound of his expensive training top tearing - the fibres screaming and wailing as they are bisected - catches the skater by surprise, staggering him just enough for Joel to seize him and slam him against the shower tile with a thud and groan.  Now pinning Scott under him - arms either side of his head, tatters of his shirt clinging to his chest and biceps - the look of indignation on Scott’s face that he hastily tries to bury is a beautiful thing.  Joel hates to admit it, but he looks good: toned and sleek but not all bones and the tatters of the shirt clinging to his glistening chest make him almost look like one of those vintage pin ups…  “Are you going to gawk or are you going ahhhhfuckinhellJoel!” Joel bites him.  Hard.  Hard like he’s trying to tear out his throat: hard like he’s trying to rid the world of Scott’s voice forever. His teeth sink deep into the lean meat of Scott’s neck until he feels the panicked rush of arousal on his fang - and he knows in an instant he’s found that spot - throbbing against his tongue that laps at the tender captured in his jaw.  Scott writhes against him, hands desperately struggling against Joel’s clasping around his wrist like iron when pain blossoms across that oh so perfect neck of his.  The feeling of his quickening breathing like a physical thing - like a baby bird - between his maw is maddening, the thrum of his heart screaming up his throat as Joel tears into every tender nerve and leaves them bloody raw singing a choir of agonised ecstasy. Joel deepens it, leans into Scott’s neck chasing the roar of his heart and the prized skater lets out a shrill pained moan that gets Joel’s cock aching from how hard he is.  Once he’s got him in his maw, Joel drops his hands from Scott’s wrist: one knots into his hair to yank his head back and expose his neck - the clipped whimper that it snaps out of him leaves Joel’s mouth dripping with desire - while the other digs into that slender waist of his.  He’s a little surprised to feel Scott’s hands raking down his back looking for purchase, and not punching him in the face: he wouldn’t have minded either way.  Joel pulls back for a second, letting his lungs fill with air while his hot breath drags along the volcanic cracks of a bite he’s left in Scott before his jaws snap around him again, higher.  This one isn’t meant to feel good - Scott still pants desperately, disgusted when Joel tears a broken, wretched moan out of him like he’s ripping out an organ bloody in his mouth - it’s meant to hurt, to brand. Joel sucks a nasty mark into his neck just below his jaw, too high for any costume or turtleneck he’s ever seen him in to cover.  Once he is satisfied Scott will be left with the stink of him for more than a week, he licks over the area. He let’s his tongue, rough like sandpaper, slather the blooming pain in attention it desperately doesn’t want to crave: but Scott does, gasps real pretty for him.

product of late night scribbling image has been stuck in my head all month

he also can make the special oosuzuki family curry recipe but that is. the only thing he can make. since supposedly it requires hours of effort and heating and cooling it at different specific times he'd try to treat normal food like his curry and completely butcher it.