#Belly fat in men causes

[ridingthatd]

𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐍

older man.

something about them.

something about their fat meaty cocks.

something about the girthiness of their veiny cock.

something about the way their swollen red tip push your meaty pussy lips apart, ripping through the sticky gummy walls of your pussy.

something about the way their fat cocks pound the cervix of your needy wet pussy.

heavy balls slamming with a wet sound against your soft ass with each hard thrust.

veiny thick forearm flexing as they keep your little sore pussy spread, gaped wide open ready to feed on cock.

pushing your leg next to your head, putting you in a position you never thought you could be put in.

leaning in close to your face while their rough hands never leaving your legs, sweat dripping from their messy hair as they huff, grunt like a dog in heat, rutting into your pussy.

something about them got you obsessed.

so obsessed to the point you had no dignity, being degraded like that at your work place.

your wet pussy gaped widen open at the meeting table. hot fluid gushing from your twitching hole, dripping down the table, coating it with your sticky juice.

four hungry eyes on you, four heavy cocks out, swollen with boiled cum that was ready to be fucked in you.

you were blindfolded, a chokeball was pushing down your wet tongue causing you to drool everywhere, warm saliva dripping down your lips.

you can feel a rough finger slowly circling your puffy clit before trailing down and circling your hole.

"already this fucking wet?". your boss, sukuna tsk at the filthy mess your pussy was making.

he doesn't give you time to react to his words because he already shoved two of his thick fingers deep inside your leaking hole.

two fingers turn into four fingers. your eyes were crossed, choking on your own drool as you tremble. you can feel sukuna slowly shoving his whole fist into your already sore pussy.

you hear gojo groaning behind sukuna as he watches the way your poor little pussy was spurting juice everywhere, trying to swallow sukunas fist.

your hole was gaping wide open as it gets hammered by his fist, your needy pussy sucks his whole fist in with a squelchy wet sound.

he was ripping your pink gooey walls apart, sukuna hiss as he feels the warmth and stickiness of your walls gripping his fist tightly.

"tryin to milk' my fucking fist? hm?". sukuna growls before pounding his hand further into your pussy, creating a belly bludge. your eyes widen, a muffled scream rip out of you as you feel him hitting your cervix, you can feel him in your belly.

he doesn't give you time to adjust. his fist was already thrusting out with a wet sloppy pop, your pussy was gaping open, your gummy slimey walls were visible to the other men in the room, before he shoves it back in.

your pussy effortlessly sucks his fist back in, the lewd sound of your swollen pussy being fisted filled the room.

sukunas fist kept bludging your belly as he fucks it in, and the bludge dissolve as he fucks it out. drill it inside your belly.

you were choking on your sobs, getting treated like nothing but a pussy socket.

you were squirting everywhere with each pound of his fist, hot fluid flying across the room as your warm cum was spurting down his forearm, spilling, dripping and coating his shirt that was rolled up his forearm.

they didn't go to waste, because little did you know toji was rubbing his fat cock on the table that was coated with your hot fluid.

coating his swollen pink tip with your juice, mixing it with his precum that was leaking down his veiny dick.

your mind was to foggy, to fucked to realize gojo and geto were stroking their meaty cock in front of your face.

panting as they squeeze their sensitive tip one last time before hot piss shoot directly into your choked mouth.

mixing with the drool that was dripping down your lips.

continue?...

[pocket-deer-boy]

you ever say "i love fat men" and then people come out of the woodworks all "yeah i love a little bit of a belly" or like "i love a guy who's fat but also strong as hell" and like. do you guys actually love fat men or do you only like it if there's some other condition present. because when i say "i love fat men" i do mean like 300+ pounds big love handles doesn't work out deep navel gets sweaty easily cellulite and stretch marks big boobs men. and i think if you exclude that i'm willing to gatekeep the phrase "i love fat men" from you because you're clearly not dedicated to The Cause.

[kissitbttr]

toji fushiguro is no blind man. he knows his wife is drop dead gorgeous and knows how to make heads turn with her presence. that’s why he didn’t give up for six months to score a date with you. and now, the two of you are blessed with a healthy marriage and little alena—another baby is on the way though—

even with a swollen belly and the weight gain you complain so much, he still thinks his wife is the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on. no amount layer of fat is going to change that and he will not rest until you realize that.

unfortunately for him? he’s not the only one who has eyes on his wife.

because as you both are standing in the hallway of alena’s kindergarten, he watches the amount of teachers and married men (gross) do a double take when you enter. eyeing you up and down like you’re a piece of meat, not realizing the intimidating man you call your husband is next to you.

his hand snakes around your waist before drawing your body closer. “have i ever told how good you look mama?”

you smile as you feel his lips pressing against your temple, hand squeezing your hip. “everyday, baby”

his eyes then wander to your figure and your pregnant belly. “you picked the right dress, huh?” the material of it compliments every curve you have so well, yet it still manages to make you look so elegant.

“well, i like to make an entrance” you reply in a sassy tone, flipping your ponytail a bit making him chuckle.

“that you did—noticed how the people here can’t stop looking at you?” he asks, guiding you towards alina’s classroom while subtly shooting a glare to anyone who’s undressing you with their eyes,

that tone, you can simply pick up. causing your head to tilt back to look at him. “easy, handsome—you look like you’re about to kill every single person in this room” with a giggle to finish,

“i may have left my old past but that doesn’t mean I won’t go back if it’s for you, doll” he grumbles, eyes searching through his daughter,

with a hum, it’s your turn to press a kiss on his scarred lip—your favorite spot to place it—“you’re so sexy i might just hop on it tonight” you whisper to him discreetly,

“damn” he wolf whistles, “i do love me a pregnant wife but our son in your tummy is probably going to hear all that, baby”

you pout, hand rubbing the belly. “we’ll do it at midnight and baby megumi wouldn’t hear a thing”

again, he barks out a laugh. “that’s not how it works sweetheart”

“yes it does!”

[lovingbarbariancomputer]

Average weight of American men is now up to 199.8 pounds. Won’t be long till they break 200. In America, eatin big is just part of bein a fuckin man, bro. Nothin feels better than being so full you can barely move. Moaning and writhing in ecstasy. It’s just a fact of life that American men have fat bellies. You can’t deny it makes you feel masculine. Fat and dumb men are just a part of American culture bro. Eat up big guy. You know gettin fat just makes you hotter. You and all your bros are gonna get fat. Cause it feels fuckin good doesn’t it bud. Can’t even think about a pizza without your dick gettin hard. Make your country proud bro

[fattystoriez]

Cursed Pigs

Content Warning: Incest, Weigh Gain, Homophobia, Misogyny

Mason was about to go on a date with his girlfriend, he sent a snap to his story to show off his body. Mason was a sophomore in college, he loved to workout, he’s the type of man who could easily steal your girlfriend.

Mason was an arrogant asshole who didn’t care who he was mean to, he was as homophobic as it gets, genuinely being disgusted by gay men. If any girl he dated had a gay best friend he’d force her to drop him, and they’d always listen because he was extremely good in bed. He hated fat people the most, found fat women to be disgusting and fat men to be pathetic. He learned all of this from his father of course, who he was on his way to visit for Labor Day weekend. His father was a muscular daddy type, if Mason had been in his 40s they could be twins.

He couldn’t wait to meet his dad for Labor Day, he and his father and they were planning on going camping. Mason had gotten home and called out for his dad. “

“Dad! I’m home!” Mason walked into the living room where the tv was on and his dad was in his cushioned arm chair, but his dad looked different. His dad had become fat, his once muscular body had been covered in blubber. There was a thick musk in the room, and he was just in underwear that had been clearly stained with cum and piss.

“Dad what the fuck happened to you, when did you become a fatass?!” Masons dad said nothing, instead he let out a rank fart. Frrrrrbbbbttt. “Oh god dad that reeks!” Mason didn’t realize what was on the tv, it was playing a weird sound and as Mason looked closer there were fat fags feeding each other with junk food. “Dad what the fuck are you watching?? What’s wrong with you!” As Mason yelled his minds started to feel numb, he started watching the TV and taking his shirt off.

A drip of drool started to fall from Mason mouth as he watched the fat men stiff each other with doughnuts, cake and burgers. He watched as the fat men started getting fatter, he was feeling hungry. “D-dad… what’s happening?” His dad continued to stay silent as he rubs his stinky crotch. Masons body started to soften, all of the hard work he had put into his muscles was being wasted.

The softening of his body continued, a feeling that was foreign to Mason. “You’re started to look good, boy” Masons father finally said something, his voice had gained a southern twang, which made no sense since they were from Jersey. Mason had a hard time getting his words out, he tried really hard to protest, but his cock was starting to stiffen.

“Da- daddy please… what’s happening?” Mason’s belly started to hang over his waistband, his chest was quickly becoming plump moobs. His v-line has become a u-line. “I-I’m getting fat… daddy why am I talking l-like a fag-got…” Mason grabbed his fattening belly, causing him to moan.

Masons body began to become covered in body hair, where he use to shave regularly, now he looks like he’s never seen a razor. A piercing formed into his nipple, his dad got up and tugged on it. “Smell my musk, boy” Mason’s daddy groped his moobs and played his with sons growing belly. “Mmmm your cock is getting covered in fat, boy. Fat boys don’t get big cocks, you know that piggy.”

Mason reached down and felt that his once 8.5in cock shrunken down to a 3in nub. Fat was swallowing his body and Mason fought with the urge to run and the urge to worship his daddy’s smelly cock. Mason was starting to get smellier and smellier, BO and musk emanating from his body.

Masons transformation was almost over, as his daddy played with his fat belly his brain was becoming foggier and foggier. His cock a useless nub that he can’t use to fuck bitches anymore. The misogynistic muscle head was gone and was replaced by a slobby, stinky fat pig.

What Mason didn’t know was that his father had pissed off a fatass on twitter, and she cursed him and his jock son to be fatass faggots. Because of her, Mason and his daddy were closer than ever before… and they could no longer spew ignorance because they were too busy shoving food into their mouths.

[kykyonthemoon]

[Headcanons] To be a father

His reaction and interaction with his first and unexpected child.

ಇ. Character x MC (Female Reader) - in third pov.

Parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb.

ಇ. Tags: headcanons only, fluff, domestic fluff, family fluff, (unplanned) pregnancy and child birth mentioned, reader insert but I'm using pronouns she/her for MC, he/she and his/her pronouns for all of the babies in this post.

ಇ. Word count: 2k5

ಇ. Ky Ky's notes: This is not a complete fanfic, rather a post of my headcanons about the men and MC having their first baby, and it's unexpected.

Based on many requests of the same plot I've got so far, from Cá Cá đến hôn em một cái, an Anon-san requesting about Zayne dealing with MC's morning sickness, and another Anon-san who sent a three-ask-long request in my askbox.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Rafayel

With all of his innocence, Rafayel will just note that MC has been a little fatigued recently, without knowing why.

She senses something, but is unsure whether a human can become pregnant with a Lemurian.

When she returns from the hospital with certain results in hand, she's shaking. Rafayel keeps asking until she tells him the truth. 

Rafayel is rather astonished. "Are you sure there's a baby in your belly, not just fat?"

She simply wants to beat him hard. They could not comprehend what is occurring; it's like a miracle.

Rafayel ponders if the child would be more like him or her. He begins speaking to her tummy with the sound "glub glub glub". 

Every day, Rafayel performs music and paints in front of MC. He claims that he does this so that the child in her tummy may experience art from a young age.

When she experiences morning sickness, Rafayel develops similar symptoms. He grumbles and worries more than her. As a result, she needs to care for both of them.

Rafayel invites Talia to stay for some time, keeping her company and learning more about this half-human, half-Lemurian child. As a result, MC discovers a number of intriguing details regarding Rafayel's childhood. 

Every morning when she wakes up, the first question he asks is, "Has the baby come out yet?" She is both annoyed and amused, telling him it is still too early.

The day MC goes into labor, people discover him crying in a corner. When he holds the baby for the first time, he checks to see if he/she has legs or a fish tail. Then he cuddles the infant and continues to cry out of delight. It appears that throughout MC's pregnancy, he gets exceedingly sensitive and tears more easily.

Rafayel has set up a separate nursery with all of the necessary supplies a long time ago. He almost moves in there after the baby is born.

Rafayel speaks to his child in a baby voice, occasionally using fish language. This does not alter even as the kid grows older. He/she may feel embarrassed when his/her father speaks to them in this manner in front of others.

He frequently calls his child by intimate names, most of which are related to fish. 

Other babies’ first word might be “dad” or “mom”, but the first word that ever comes out of their child’s mouth must be “glub”.

Rafayel purchases only the most adorable baby items. He additionally designs his own pillows, toys, and other baby-related products.

Rafayel is the sort of dad that pushes his child in a stroller around the mall. After that, he would most likely forget about his own child and return home alone. To him, the kid is capable of finding his/her own way home. But after being scolded by MC, he rushes back to fetch the kid.

The father and his child regularly go to the beach together. He educates the kid about Lemuria, art, and the beautiful world where his or her mother grew up.

Rafayel frequently pulls pranks with the kid, causing MC a headache. It's like having two children under the same roof at the same time. Her parenting style differs from his. The young child could prefer Rafayel because MC can be so strict at times. When she scolds and disciplines the child, he typically sides with the child. It ends up with both of them punished together.

The child possesses the strength of a Lemurian, but his or her body is more resilient and not as vulnerable on land.

Rafayel likes to lull his baby to sleep with ancient Lemurian melodies. He also tells him/her goodnight stories, after which the two cuddle and fall asleep comfortably. MC would frequently embrace Rafayel from behind or place the child between the two of them.

Xavier

Neither Xavier nor MC are aware of the pregnancy until she faints on a mission.

When he arrives at the hospital, the doctor informs him that there is a little life in her tummy.

Xavier sits for a long time in front of the waiting room, trembling from the emotions in his heart.

When MC gets up, he is the one to tell her the news and she almost faints again.

Since neither of them is prepared to have children, life has become more chaotic. She develops morning sickness and tension, and she is only permitted to perform desk jobs rather than fighting, which drives her insane as she feels excluded and is frequently uncomfortable.

Xavier gently remains by her side to care for her, even on difficult days when she grumbles at him.

He pats her abdomen and murmurs to the baby: "Come out soon so you don't hurt mommy anymore, okay?" Then he would softly kiss her tummy.

Xavier buys almost every parenting guide he could find. He also follows the suggestions in there, seeking for healthy meals, performing mild workouts with MC, and giving her massages. 

He handles all of the tidying up throughout her pregnancy, but she would not let him near the kitchen. 

The day she gives birth to a beautiful child, Xavier cuddles the baby and kisses her forehead, praising her for the most precious present he could ever have.

She frequently sees Xavier in the nursery, cradling his baby, but he falls asleep even before the child. At that moment, MC simply grins and gently drapes a blanket over his shoulders.

She believes this child is more like Xavier than herself. Take a look at how he/she can sleep anywhere, anytime. They can hold hands and sleep on the sofa while the TV is on. He/she has the same taste as Xavier, preferring meat and leaving all veggies to MC. 

As the kid grows older, he/she develops an interest in superheroes. Of fact, he or she idolizes Lumiere much more than MC. The child begs his/her parents to buy Lumiere's merchandise to fill the room, and occasionally even asks Xavier to play the role of this hero.

Xavier loves to create light shows for his child, receiving praise and admiration from him/her. To become a child's entire universe, he spends a lot of time researching how to build and construct toys for his kid. 

The child soon becomes the youngest plushie collector in Linkon.

Compared to going out, Xavier and his child prefer staying at home together. Both spend much of their time asleep.

Whenever MC is away from home, Xavier and the child often do not care much about their meals. But when she returns, the whole family would have a hearty meal. She plans to teach the child to cook at a young age so that he/she might aid her in the future. 

Even though Xavier adores the child, MC remains his primary focus. He spoils her more than his child, so the baby sometimes has to get between the two of them for attention.

When she becomes preoccupied with the infant and loses sight of Xavier, he appears sad and attempts to reclaim her attention by assisting her in caring for the baby. He enjoys taking care of both of them and frequently reminds the child who actually is his /her mother's most favorite.

The child prefers to sleep in his or her parents' room more. His/her favorite position is between the two of them. When he/she falls asleep, Xavier will covertly carry the child back to his/her room before returning to the MC's side and sealing the door so they are no longer disturbed.

Zayne

As her physician, Zayne is aware of MC's pregnancy before she is. He is familiar with her period and has received the results of her frequent checkups.

Zayne is astonished because neither of them expected to have a kid at that point. He doesn't know how to tell her either. Finally, he decides to get a box of excellent macarons for her. She finds it strange, so she inquires whether it is for a particular occasion.

Zayne pauses for a time, then stares deeply into her eyes before quietly saying: "You... are pregnant."

As if lightning has struck, she drops the macaron she's about to bite. Zayne has to catch her before she faints. 

It takes her a bit to recover her composure. What sort of mother would MC be if she hadn't prepared anything? She is completely unaware of how to care for an unborn child or infant.

Zayne appears calm as he soothes her, but that night she discreetly observes him grinning ear to ear in the study, while pursuing further medical documents.

He also takes special care of her more than ever. Morning sickness is also more bearable with him by her side. He constantly checks her and their child's health, ensuring that she receives the greatest and most timely medical care. MC is just concerned with eating nutritious meals and preparing for their future child.

Zayne would pre-register her for pregnancy care, infant care, and any other classes that he deemed essential.

Zayne also intends to raise their child from infancy to college. MC could only gaze at him, surprised, with big round eyes. As anticipated from Linkon's brilliant young doctor.

He would alter his entire schedule to ensure that he could always be there when she needs him. 

He's constantly by her side throughout childbirth. No matter how hard she scratches or squeezes his palm, all he does is softly console her.

Zayne is excellent at caring for children. Since the baby is born, he devotes all his time and energy to care for him/her. Afraid that MC would be upset since they couldn't have much private time together anymore, he would compensate with sweets and do something they both enjoy (such as watching a movie together).

Children often get sick, and when their baby does, Zayne attentively takes care of him/her until he/she gets better. 

He asks his child to eat veggies to gain enough nutrition, but whenever the kid leaves the carrots out for him, he slyly puts them on MC's plate.

Zayne is the type of parent who can hold a baby and work at the same time; or hold their child while carrying all the bags for MC when they go out shopping.

Their child is exceptionally smart and obedient, as well as silent, yet whatever he or she says amazes the MC. He/She takes after Zayne more than her. He/She is adored and spent time with by everyone at Akso Hospital. People often praise the child for his/her courteous and well-mannered behavior, which makes MC chuckle, while Zayne fails to hide his proud smile.

However, as a child, there are times when he/she may become too playful and lose sight of his or her responsibilities. Zayne has the strict role in the family. He disciplines the child not with whipping or scolding, but rather with a reasonable consequence and reward. He assigns a chore to the child and promises prizes if he/she completes it successfully. Otherwise, he/she will face a penalty.

Zayne might be very strict at times, leaving the child afraid and furious. He/she runs to the MC with a gloomy look. She speaks a few words to get him/her away with this, but seeing Zayne's stone-cold face, fearful of being criticized by him too, she pushes the kid forward with encouragement: "You asked for it, dear."

Even still, after every tantrum, the child would always find candy that Zayne has mistakenly placed in an easily accessible location.

The kid frequently begs Zayne to make popsicles for him/her or to serve as his/her own portable air conditioner when it's hot outside. 

On occasions when the whole family has a day off, Zayne often takes them out of town in his car. In addition, he usually brings the child to the hospital to participate in some volunteer activities there.

Caleb

MC remembers that Caleb is petrified for a long time after hearing her announce the pregnancy.

Then he walks out into the backyard, and she hears him scream so loud that the whole neighborhood could hear, "I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER!"

The next thing she knows, he has rushed inside, scooped her up like a princess, and spun her around the room. When he comes to a halt, she notices his eyes are bright red. He embraces her for a long time, thanking her for giving him the most precious thing in this world.

Caleb is paying more attention to her meals, even learning how to prepare new nutritional foods for the two of them, rather than simply following her appetite. He also ensures that she eats and drinks more.

Due to his profession, he frequently departs for far away missions, but every day he checks on her health and reminds her to eat on time and to arrange regular prenatal checkups. 

Caleb couldn't be with her as often during the pregnancy, which made it really tough for MC. She regularly tears when she gets upset. However, he surprises her and makes her happy by returning home without calling first. He states that he's on long-term leave to take care of her.

Caleb previously talked about MC so much that all of his Academy friends and coworkers are familiar with her. He is now filled with tremendous delight and pride as he talks about their upcoming kid.

Even before the baby arrives, he/she already receives many gifts and necessary items from his/her parents' colleagues. 

After having a kid, Caleb accepts short-term assignments closer to Linkon. He enjoys spending time with his family the most, and every time he's home, MC feels like everything becomes cozier.

She sometimes recalls their childhood while seeing Caleb care for and play with the baby.

He is always present on important occasions for the whole family, when the baby takes his/her first steps and babbles a few unclear words. He has a collection of images and videos capturing such moments.

Caleb occasionally becomes strict with his child and educates him/her using the similar disciplinary methods he learned at the Academy. But in the end, he always manages to comfort the child.

"Don't argue with mom." and "Mom is always right." are the things Caleb tells his child every time he/she gets scolded by MC.

The child is quite active. Anyone can tell since he/she possesses all of the stubbornness and mischief of MC and Caleb combined. Caleb enjoys playing sports and doing outdoor activities with his child. He often carries him/her on his back or lets him/her sit on his shoulders when they go out.

Caleb frequently engages in daring activities with his child that make MC's pulse race. But he never allows the kid to be injured or frightened.

Caleb likes to call his child by affectionate names. But every time he calls "baby" or "sweetie", or "pip-squeak", both MC and the child turn around. 

When Caleb takes on long-term assignments away from home, sometimes the child would miss his/her father and cries. But as soon as he/she finds MC sobbing, he/she will hold her and console her in the same manner Caleb does. That's what he has taught his child. And when he returns, the entire family will spend all their time together. The memories he creates with his child always make him/her joyful and grateful every time he comes home.

As requested in my ask box:

Header images used at the top of this post by: x

[szasfuckingwife]

Your day starts and ends with a tender stroke on your protruding pregnant belly. Your husband is across the minka, probably scaring men half to death. However, now, it’s breakfast and your maids prepare you for the start of the day.

The maids lead you to the dining room where your husband sits on the opposite side. You bow before him as you slowly take a seat. “Good Morning, Ryomen.”

He stares at you with all his eyes, not saying a word. His eyes also linger at your belly. Sukuna has never felt fear especially considering his fear was a small baby that was yet to appear. It kept him up at night

“How was your morning..?” You sweetly smile at him, only to be met with his unchanged face. “The baby was moving a lot today…”

He exhaled sharply, “Terrible. Some weakling was outside begging me for forgiveness.”

You nod before he speaks again, “Why aren’t you eating?”

His words earn a raise of your brow as you stare down at the array of food. It wasn’t your desire to eat, especially after hearing some maids speak ill of your pregnancy cravings. You would’ve laughed it off if they hadn’t have proceeded to call you ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’ and wondered ‘why Lord Sukuna married an ugly concubine like her’.

But you were extremely hungry. “I…I’m not hungry…I-”

“What happened?” He asks in a low voice.

Sukuna knows what happened, he just doesn’t know if you heard it too. Or, better yet, if you heard it and refused to tell him. He squinted his eyes at you slightly before you cracked.

“I heard…someone say that I was fat. And ugly. And you shouldn’t have married me…” The words leave your mouth hurt Sukuna more than they do you. He wonders how you must have felt, it’s enough being pregnant but hearing that from other women must hurt.

“Y/N.” You look up. “I do not think you’re fat. I do not think you’re ugly. Tell me, whose opinion matters more? Mine or some maids.”

You inhale, “You.”

“So, if that’s the case, why do you care about them? Why do you-”

“Because I feel that way too! I see myself day by day getting more uglier and…I don’t want to eat!” All the anger and sadness inside you lashes out and instead of holding it in, Sukuna watches as you push the food off the table and walk off.

As you marched back to your room, you regretted everything you did. He was sure to get rid of you now, how could you speak to your lord in such a way. Not only were you scared of Sukuna’s reaction, you were scared of your own. You’ve never let yourself get so heated before. A thought crosses your mind, what if you were becoming just like your sadistic husband..?

With your loud sobbing, you didn’t realise Sukuna enter the room. His touch caused you to jump as you faced him.

“They’ll be…dismissed. As for you, do not listen to them. You are carrying my heir, and you are my wife. No one knows how I feel about you, and I fear they never will. Don’t let them think they know anything about us, me, and especially you.”

You nod, staring up at him. “Now, dry your eyes, get rid of your tears. I want to parade you around and show you off one more time.”

[yellowjestertfs]

Just another ordinary day

Been busy working on a longer project (as in 40k+ words :0) but in the meantime decided to publish another older story of mine with revisions and images. AI was being especially tricky on me this time so the images are not quite what I pictured but good enough. If anyone has any tips for making better images or is interested in proofreading my longer story let me know!

I woke with a start, my mind still groggy from sleep my vision hazy. It was one of those sudden wake-ups that throws off your whole day, the kind usually prompted by some bad dream or loud noise. Only there had been no such occurrence; my sleep had been peaceful and from what I could remember dreamless, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling something had woken me. 

No matter the cause I was up, and judging by the daylight creeping through my shades there was no point falling back to sleep. With a groan, I lifted myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. The alarm on my bedside table informed me I had thirty extra minutes this morning to get ready for work. Never one to waste time I decided to have a quick wank with my extra time to try to release some of the stress my sudden wakeup had caused.

Something felt off as I pulled down my pants to reveal my dick, rock hard as it was most mornings. The type of feeling you get when you say a word over and over and it loses all meaning. Everything else seemed normal, my body was still just as average as when I went to bed, nice strong legs from a childhood of playing soccer and a slight beer belly from my time playing beer pong in college. My face looked the same as well, a generally generic face, adorned by light stubble which had grown in while I slept, and bags under my eyes from my draining corporate job. It was my dick that felt off, foreign, only that was ridiculous. It looked the same as it had since I finished puberty. Just over a foot long and proportionally thick, it was just as average as the rest of my body. Something about thinking of my third leg as average felt wrong but I chalked it up to the dregs of sleep. That was simply how men were, nothing strange about it.

Shanking myself out of my contemplative state I hopped into the shower and went about the act of washing away the sheen of sweat I had gained while I slept. I also took this time to rub one out, using the standard two-hand technique practiced by most men. My dick quickly rose to its full size, and within minutes, my tennis ball-sized balls were churning out cum. I thought back to an article I had read in high school that claimed the average male ejaculated a third a gallon of cum per climax, and judging by my admissions that seemed plausible. I supposed the amount coupled with the force accounted for the high rate of condom breakage, not that any but the bravest of women ever allowed for penetrative sex.

After maneuvering the shower head to force all the cum down the drain I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my waist, paying special care to ensure that my dick didn’t cause the cloth to come undone. Suddenly I felt a wave pass over me. I felt immediately nauseous and light-headed and a strange sensation of deja vu. I realized this was the feeling that had woken me up this morning, then just as suddenly as it had come over me the queasiness vanished as did my memory of the event. I was left only with a vague sense of unease. Powering through the strange sensation I wiped down the mirror and was confronted once again with a visage that felt somehow off. It wasn’t my average face nor the obscene bulge hidden behind my towel, both of those were normal. My body too looked just as average as ever, thick cut pecs, prominent square abs, and bulging 22’’ biceps were nothing to write home about, although I supposed my time playing soccer had given my legs an extra boost elevating them from the standard 30-inch thickness to a respectable 35. Luckily for me, men are incapable of storing fat otherwise I might have a belly from all those beers I drank in college I thought to myself absentmindedly patting my six-pack. Still, in a world where most men have 250 pounds of walking muscle, I have always felt sort of insecure about my scrawny 230-pound body. 

Quickly forgetting about the strange sensation I finished my morning routine, electing to keep my stubble in the hopes of cultivating a more rugged look on my average face. I exited the bathroom and opened my closet, greeted by the sight of several rows of various dress shirts, embarrassingly all labeled as men's adult small. Putting on underwear was easy enough as with all menswear my boxers had a special compartment for my hose-like junk. A dress shirt too buttoned easily over my cabbage-sized pecs as of course all men's shirts were created for just the task. I was just in the process of squeezing my legs into billowing trousers when I felt another wave pass over me. My already precarious balance caused me to fall, and I caught myself on the edge of my dresser, only it wasn’t a dresser. Why would I have a dresser, I wasn’t a woman what would I do with clothing? Righting myself against what I realized was a workout bench I glanced down just to reassure myself of my nakedness. I wondered absently where the thought of me owning clothing had come from, what a preposterous idea, that would be like a woman walking around naked. I would be fired on the spot if I showed up in such an offensive garment. Casting the ridiculous idea out of my mind I grabbed my bag and headed off to work. 

Saying hello to my hunky neighbor as I passed I finally emerged onto the street. Despite my strange morning, the world outside my apartment appeared the same as it always was, men on their way to work naked, of course, pecs and dick bouncing as they walked, bare feet smacking against the smooth temperature-controlled cement. I joined the throngs of men crowding the sidewalks and waited at a crosswalk as men showing flesh drove by, their cars of course made specifically large enough to hold their bulk. I became just another face in the crowd, just another man on his way to work, bodybuilder frame revealed to the wind. The eye easily passed over my foot-long dick, the instrument not nearly long enough to garner any attention. Be they young or old, rich or poor every man was at least 200 pounds of muscle with a shlong to match and of course, all of them were naked, it was simply how the world was, how it had always been. Depending on the subway station I swiped my metro card and made my way to the appropriate train. As the train pulled I was buffeted by yet another wave and was instantly wracked with an intense pulse of nausea which disappeared just as suddenly as it had arrived. 

Releasing I had fallen down, but not knowing why, I stood back up to my full 7’10” hight and saw all around me men doing the same. For a moment the doors to the subway car in front of me looked strange, almost too tall but that didn’t make any sense. They stood just as tall as ever, the standard 9 foot hight, enough to allow most men to enter without hitting their heads. I knew of course that there were rare men who would still have to duck to enter the train car but for the vast majority of men who averaged around 8’0’’, ten feet was more than sufficient. I entered the car and sat down, my bare butt brushing up against the perky ass of a blond man with a round face on one side and a woman in expertly pressed dress slacks and a matching navy blazer on the other. As the train took off another wave stuck. This one merely caused me to clutch my head as a splitting headache appeared and then vanished in a second. The woman next to me was hit harder by the instantly forgotten wave of reality-altering force. Thrown off balance she bounced into my left pec, her head cushioned by the squishy yet firm muscle. Recovering immediately and feeling somewhat confused as to how she ended up pressed against me she apologized and distracted herself by pulling out her phone and flipping to the camera app to ensure her makeup was not smudged. Though the camera was pointed at herself I could see my reflection, my head towering over hers even in my sitting position. 

I certainly wasn’t ugly by any standard but I also wasn’t some model. My chiseled wide jaw was just about as handsome as every other man on the train, although the perfect coating of square stubble that had grown in during the night did lend me a rugged edge. The rest of my features were pretty mundane, clear and pore-less skin, thick square eyebrows and a dimpled wide chin were the default for men, as evidenced by the golden-haired Adonis that sat next to me. Even so, I always liked my piercing bright eyes and high cheekbones even though they were hardly rare in the world.

The blond man sitting next to me with the perfect lantern jaw got up at the next stop. Mine was the one after that. 

I exited the car and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time to ensure I wasn’t late. My work building looked the same as it always did, with large doors to accommodate male employees and in the lobby a giant bronze statue of a man holding the earth, his body naked and extremely well muscled and hung of course for the sake of realism. Despite my relative scrawniness I still used a male-designated elevator, the female ones not made to handle my weight or height. The several other men in the elevator and I had only made it a few floors before we were subject to one final and seemingly extra powerful shockwave. The weight of the changes enacted easily caused all the men even with their rock-hard muscles to crumple and we collapsed onto each other. My hand somehow ended up gasping the long penis of a 40-year-old accountant with a perfectly maintained salt and pepper beard. For a moment I motioned to let go of his member before reality snapped back in and I remembered my manners. It would be incredibly rude for me to begin a morning grope and not bring him to completion. In fact,  I had already made a major faux pas by not kissing my coworker hello. This error in tact was quickly rectified as the rest of the elevator ride turned into a make-out session. By my floor the sexy accountant I was giving a handjob to reached completion and I took his load as my breakfast. As I left he spanked my ass and stuck his business card between my butt checks. Guess he liked my elevator pitch. 

I went straight to my boss's office as was customary and gave the 350-pound silver fox a quick blow job before he transferred his abnormally large penis into my ass and fucked me while we discussed business. Turns out the reality-warping machine he had invested in had been broken into this morning although as far as anyone could tell no damage had been done nor had the machine been used. 

“Makes sense I told him" In-between moans as he obliterated my prostate. “I imagine we would know if someone were to fuck with reality.” 

My boss clenched his superhumanly wide lantern jaw and straightened up to his full over eight-foot height, both football-sized biceps flexed behind his head. “You're right on that account kid, today is yet another ordinary day.

[delopsia]

stalling | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 3,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, cunnilingus, hand jobs, a men's masturbation sleeve, PBR! Rhett, implied marriage. (But also, Rhett Abbott being needy.) Exhibitionism, if you wanna be technical about it. Brief Summary: You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

It's the obnoxious squelch of his drooling tongue gliding over your clit that's going to give him away. 

Wet little noises punctuate his every movement. So sharp that they bounce off the walls, running round and round the room and in your ears until it's all you can hear. Has your shivering fingers pulling harder on his hair, yanking him away just enough for one of those deep groans to escape, and oh god, it's only making things worse.

The last thing you need to do is give someone a reason to open the bathroom door. Walk in and catch sight of Rhett's knees against the concrete floor, between another pair of legs. Unzipped jeans pooling around his ass, one-of-a-kind rodeo buckle glinting in the light, right next to where his neglected cock rests in his lap, so heavy that it can no longer stand upright. 

Cheers roar outside. A buzzer sounds, chased by the muffled shout of an announcer you've already forgotten the name of—another eight-second ride. But it's not going to be enough to steal the number one slot. No, not with that shiny new record, not even thirty minutes old yet. 

"Thank you," he's panting, hardly able to draw himself back to speak, as if doing so will cause his whole world to crumble.  "Thank you for letting me eat your pussy."

His tongue is so hot. A wet flame that presses into you, lazily working in and out, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit, barely there touches that have your hips jolting. But as quickly as his tongue appeared, it's drifting away entirely. Bold enough to test the waters but too impatient to commit, already venturing up, up, up, back to the swollen little bud that he can't stop tormenting.

You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

"Y' taste so good," speaking directly into you, his voice rumbling up your belly and into your chest, jostling the cluster of butterflies that have been resting there. 

The heels of your palms press into his forehead, but it's not doing anything. You can't escape the frenzied twitch of his tongue, rolling back and forth, a feather-light contact that ought to send you through the roof. 

"Rhett, you're gonna..." The sound of your voice is meeting your ears, but you can't feel your mouth moving. "Oh fuck—Rhett, you're gonna get us caught." And there's more that you want to say, but you're being cut short by your own drawn-out squeal, fingers knotting in those deep brown locks.

Your heart hammers against your chest with all the strength and fury of those bulls he rides. Thighs shivering, nerves set alight as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking so harshly that the noise echoes all around the room. 

"'s my reward, ain't it?" He sounds almost innocent. As if his devilish tongue isn't hanging out of his mouth, the definition of sin itself. "They can't object to that."

You'd like to argue that they can, but fuck, those loose little circles are about to put you on the goddamn floor. Hips writhing, held in place by the big hands squeezing the fat of your ass, forcing you to remain upright until he's had his fill of you. 

"Rhett—"

Hinges squeal as the bathroom door swings open. 

Sparkling blue eyes dart up to your face, and you can't see it, but you can feel the grin working its way across his face. Boots thump across the floor, then fall silent. The sharp sound of a zipper sliding down kisses your ears. Whoever it is, they're only here for the urinal. 

But Rhett Abbott doesn't care what they're here to do. Opening his mouth to lick a long, fat stripe up your pussy, so content with himself that his eyes close midway. And there's not a damn thing that you can do about it. Hands flying up to clamp over your mouth, stifling a whimper that would surely give you away. 

That big, dumb idiot is pointing his tongue now. The soft tip of it delicately dancing across you, like too much pressure will cause the walls of this bathroom to come crumbling down. Diligently rolling your clit around like you're a piece of candy that he can just idly toy with. A cry squeaks out of you, hardly masked by the loud flush of the toilet.

There's no reason that this should be causing heat to pool in your lower belly, but it is. Winding tighter and tighter, a taut string pulled to its breaking point. So close to snapping that every step this stranger takes is too slow. Thunking closer and closer to the door, until finally...

It screeches open. Then, begins to close once more. 

You've never been so thankful for someone not washing their hands. Already reaching down to tangle your fingers in Rhett's hair and yanking. Forcing that sinful mouth of his away from your sex before—

"No, no, no," Rhett's babbling, whining, like his life depends on it. "Please, I want y' to cum on my tongue. Please, please, I want, I want..."

You can't even begin to argue with him. Because he's already wriggling himself loose, and his dripping tongue is back on you, and his stubble is scratching against you in the most mind-numbing fashion, and your whole world goes silent. 

Nothing but a faint ringing in your ears as your thighs clamp down around his skull, cumming without the slightest bit of warning. Head tilting back, thunking against the wall. A wildfire rushing across your skin in the form of a shiver. And Rhett just can't help himself, humming, licking you through it until the involuntary spasm of your pussy devolves into oversensitive, full-body jolts. 

"You..." sucking in a gasp, "have a problem." 

Understatement of the century. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was being paid. 

Rhett leans back onto his haunches, scruffy, unshaven chin glistening in the light. Dripping, even. "But I'm your problem." You don't know who taught him that, but they're going to get an earful when you catch them.

"That you are," weak, you pull on his hair, hardly enough to even sway his head. "Come up here, dummy."

There's hardly a bit of strength left in your body, and yet, somehow, your little motion is enough to get him moving, knees creaking and all, as he rises to his feet. Wet nose bumping into your cheek, nuzzling you in some odd, dog-like fashion that has you succumbing to the urge to slide your hand down and scratch him behind the ear. 

Eyelashes flutter. Pushing back into your hand. "You pettin' me?" 

"You gonna do something about it if I am?" Taunting, beneath your breath. 

His eyes roll, but he doesn't need to open his mouth for you to know what his answer is. Not when he's smiling like that, a lopsided grin and half-lidded eyes. So laid back and content that he hardly seems to realize that both of your hands are making their way down to his waist, grabbing hold of it and forcing him to spin around. 

Boots chirp against the floor. And you're reaching toward your purse with one hand, blindly feeling against the stall door until you can find where it's hanging. The other arm slips around his belly, cinching him to you. His back knocks into your chest, so close that his hair tickles your cheek. 

"Y' ain't gotta..." he starts, but whatever he's trying to tell you dies in his throat. Shut up by the clear object you're drawing out of your bag. The new stroker sleeve you've been saying you'll try out but have never had the patience to dig it out of the drawer. Inconspicuous at first glance, just a rubber cylinder, textured with little nubs on the inside. 

"Can you do something for me?" Ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear. 

It's impossible to miss the shiver that rattles down his spine. "Uhuh." Nodding dumbly. 

"Touch yourself." Comes out as more of an order than a request, but that doesn't matter because Rhett's already reaching for himself. Big hand wrapping around his neglected cock, sucking in an audible breath from that alone.

You can't dig the lube out fast enough, popping open the cap and blindly pouring it into the toy. So half-assed that some of it winds up spilling out the side, running over your fingers and dripping to the floor. But you don't care; a mess is worth the sight of Rhett stroking himself, twisting his wrist just how he likes it, hips greedily leaning up into his own touch.

Lazy, you drizzle some of the lube right onto his hand, uncaring of the mess you're making. Almost entranced as he spreads it over himself, shimmering in the dull bathroom light. 

But then he's reaching out, sticky hand impatiently curling around yours, trying to guide the toy toward himself. "I want..." his head shakes, searching for words. "Want..." 

If this were any other day, you like to imagine you'd play dumb. Force him to put into words exactly what he wants and how. But the rodeo crowd and the booming voice of the announcer are still out there, anticipating his celebratory return, and that new, sparkling record ought to warrant him a reward. 

He knows that he's getting what he wants, too. Hand sliding back to his base, holding himself still as you lower that dripping toy onto him.

His head tilts backward with a gasp, falling onto your shoulder.

All that and you've hardly slid the thing past his flushed tip, almost have to squeeze him to you in order to keep him still, working down him inch by devastating inch. 

"Oh my god," a little waver in his voice, hips involuntarily jerking up into the sleeve. Those knees buckle, knocking into each other. "Fuck."

A giggle rumbles out of him, and you don't need to look in the mirror to know that his cheeks have turned a nice shade of strawberry, set off by the sound of his own voice. One of these days, you'll get him to believe that he sounds pretty like this, but right now, you've got a different agenda on your plate.

"Tell me how it feels," you whisper, slowly drawing that toy back up, squeezing your fist past his cock head, then beginning to draw down again. 

"Feels..." but he's forgotten how to talk, mouth floundering without a sound. "'s tight...and—mmh!"

Maybe it's your fault for twisting back up so quickly, but you just can't help it. Not when his ass is squirming back into you, unsure if he wants to push into the toy or wriggle away, mouth hardly muffling that long, drawn-out groan. Even through the thick silicone, you can feel the way he twitches, jerking in your hand like a live wire. 

So, so sensitive after a couple days of no fun.

Your hand is already quickening. Too eager to hear those breathy little oh, oh, oh's, set off by the flick of your wrist when you pass over his head. Thighs squeeze together, one of his hands flying out to brace himself against the mirror. The one that you can't quit looking at. Downright obsessed with the sight of this clear silicone hugging tight around his cock. The way precum is already spilling out of him and dripping onto the floor below. 

"Feels—feels good," tripping over his own words, voice so high that you hardly recognize it. "Fuck." 

And just like that, your hand stops. Squeezing firm at his base as he involuntarily jolts forward. 

A whine echoes through the bathroom. Pitchy. Frustrated. "Why...why did you..." He tilts his head to meet your eye. "You stopped." Speaking dumbly.

"I know." Grinning. Your hand loosens just enough for him to move again. "Try and fuck it by yourself."

Almost automatically, he tries to jerk forward. Boots stumbling across the floor, forearm flying up to catch himself as his upper body falls forward. Forehead against the mirror, dark blue eyes locked on the sight of that sleeve wrapped around his cock. 

Weak, his hips begin to move. 

Hissing as he draws back, almost hesitant to move, like he's afraid to slip out of the toy entirely. And it's...fuck that's a sight you haven't seen before. The obscenity of Rhett fucking a cock sleeve, how his balls sway with the motion of his body, perfect for you to reach down and grab. Heavy in your palm, so full that you worry what may happen if you do anything more than run your thumb up and down them. 

"This ain't—I can't," Rhett croaks, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "This is hard." 

The hand around his dick tightens, sends him jumping. "You can do it." 

And he just can't help himself. Feet shifting the slightest bit, trying again. Quicker this time, the lube squelching so loudly that it bounces off the wall. His mouth falls open, fogging up the mirror, panting like a dog on a summer day. Soft noises tumbling out of him, unable to stop a single one of them. 

"There you go," you murmur directly into his ear. "That's a good boy."

Pearly white teeth sink into his bottom lip. Eyes squeezing shut. 

He's trying. 

He's trying so, so hard. But he just can't move quickly enough. Trapped in the crevices of this awkward position, fucking himself into your hand, arms braced over his head, legs too close together. So frustrating that you can hear it in his little grunts, bubbling out of him with every thrust.

"Please," he rasps, head thunking against the mirror. "Please, please, please." 

You've got a feeling you know what he's after. "What do you want?"

"I wanna cum!" He's blurting before you've even finished talking. "Please—please let me cum." 

The buzz of yet another eight-second ride sounds. Loud. Booming through the walls and into this little bathroom. But it's not enough to cover up Rhett's sob as your hand begins to move once more. Pumping him in tandem with his frantic hips. Drinking in those airy cries rolling off his tongue, hanging halfway out of his mouth.

"This what you were wanting?" Coy, your teeth find the lobe of his ear, tugging gently. 

"Mhm," is all you're getting out of him. And he's reaching down between his own legs, dragging your hand out from where it's still toying with his balls and squeezing it tight. Needs something to cling to. Anything that isn't this cold mirror in front of him. 

Those darkened eyes peel open, locking with yours through the reflection, and his mouth is shaping around what you think is your name, but not a syllable is escaping. Almost immediately, they flicker shut once more. Your wrist flicks once. 

Rhett cums with a strangled moan. Body jerking against yours. Feet stumbling. And your hand is moving so fast that the toy catches that first rope of cum before it can splatter on the mirror, then the second. Smearing it across his spasming cock, creates a dizzying mess with the lube, so much of it that he's dripping, little spots of it scattering on the floor and the toe of his left boot. 

"Fuck," his breath fogs the glass. "That was...oh."

Your hand freezes halfway down his length. Almost forgot it was moving to begin with. 

"No, no, no," lazily tilting his head to peer over his shoulder, "keep goin' for a second."

And so you do. 

Slow as you can possibly manage, dragging the mess of a toy up and down his cock. He's sensitive. You know he is because he's shifting his weight onto the tips of his toes, fist tightening until his knuckles whiten, but there's a shiver visibly running up his spine. Cum spills out of his swollen tip. Hardly enough to count, but it's something. 

"'s good," Rhett murmurs after a moment. You've hardly got to do anything; he's already pulling away on his own, drawing that softening cock of his out of the toy altogether. Falls limp against his thigh, that sickly mixture of cum and lube already beginning to stain his jeans. 

It's a mess that'll have to be dealt with in the privacy of your hotel room because he's already tucking himself away. Pulling up his zipper and fastening that gaudy championship buckle. One of a kind. 

A selfish part of you hopes that tonight's buckle is a little easier on the eyes. 

One of his knees buckles as he turns, a big hand flying out to catch himself against the wall. "Shit," he's giggling, peering at you through the hair that's fallen into his face, "y' got me all weak in the knees, doll."

"Don't tell me you need to be carried," you're saying as if you're not intrigued by the idea of giving it a shot. 

"Nah," shaking his head, smile so big that his teeth glint in the overhead light. "Might need a few kisses to get me through the night, though." 

Eyeroll. Your free hand darts out, grabbing hold of his shirt collar and hauling him in, meeting those pale, swollen lips for a sloppy smooch. The first one lands awkwardly on the corner of his mouth, both of you leaning in the wrong damn direction. But then Rhett's tilting his head, nose bumping into yours, and he's meeting you properly. One little chaste kiss after another. 

A muffled voice creeps through the walls. Distorted, but you can still hear those two little words all the same. 

"They're calling for you, Abbott," speaking against his lips, making no real effort to pull away. It'll be a few hours before you get to steal this many kisses again. 

He hums. "Which one?" Kiss. "There's two of us standin' here." Kiss.

Weak, your hand thunks against his chest. "The dumb one who climbs on dangerous animals for fun."

"That's both of us, sweetheart," he had to have been storing that. There's no way he could have come up with that so quickly on his own, grinning like a cat that's gotten the cream.

"You're not a wild animal," adjusting the hem of your shorts, blindly feeling about to make sure that they've fallen back into place. 

Nobody will know what you've been up to, so long as they don't see the bite mark on your inner thigh. 

"I can be," Rhett winks. 

That's an argument that you'll have to settle in the hotel room. Before you can even say another word, he's darting for the door, sliding open the latch, a melody of laughter trailing behind.

"Hurry!" He's barricading himself up against the entryway. Feet dug into the ground, hair sticking up every which way. "Before Archie comes lookin' and figures out 'm not actually sick." 

You can't get to the sink quickly enough. 

And if anyone notices that Rhett is a little looser than usual when he climbs that stage to accept his award, nobody says a word. Too focused on the hoopla of a brand new record, the glimmer of a brand new belt buckle, tacky as all hell and a lifetime worse than the one that sits sideways against his belly. 

...but they might notice when he turns his head and flashes a ruby red bruise lurking just below his ear. 

Sure wonder where that came from.

[berrybundtcake0909]

intox + slob has my whole heart

fucking looove obese men with hard round beer bellies that bloat up twice their size as they easily demolish a case of beer with their family sized dinner.

-in torn and stained briefs from being too lazy to do laundry. love how they stumble around, their poor hog gut on display as it assists the copious amounts of alcohol in their system to throw them off their balance. their guts are similar to a keg, sloshing and bubbling with carb loaded beer, making them drunkenly hiccup as they trip over their feet and stumble into the wall.

mnmmmhh and i love how they get so hairy too, completely untamed, running from the thinner scatter of hair around their deep navels, to the thick bush, peaking out in tufts from the top of their underwear.

ohh and of course it would make them so fucking gassy, letting out the most disgusting belches while they hold their poor tummy’s and moan pitifully. and they’d get hard in their cum stained underwear as they can taste the 12 cans of beer and shameful amount of junk food they’d be gorging on all day. but obviously, eating nothing but grease and sugar really does a number on their stomach. so their bellies are gurgling sickly, all while they desperately rub it and attempt to soothe the consequences of their greed. these fat hogs fart every other minute as their gut battles indigestion, and battles to process all of that garbage, desperately tely trying to get all their gas out.

give me pathetic pigs, who drunkenly waddle to sit in my lap, slurring that they need to burp and it won’t come out, whining into my neck as they subconsciously grind their bulge into my thigh. their belly would press against my stomach while i wrap my arms around their overfed body, thumping them on the back.

their first belch catches the both of us by surprise, loud, aggressive and smelly. he chokes on a moan as another burp violently comes up his throat and blasts out of his mouth, so close to my face i can practically taste all the slop he ate today. he moans high pitched and pathetic as he fully starts grinding into me. his belly gurgles again, and he looks at me with desperate eyes. he quickly pushes down on his lower tummy and lets out the bubbliest, and wettest fucking fart. with that, he cums all over his boxers and my lap as he whines through another belch.

i have to walk him to the bathroom after, fully holding him up and holding his cock for him as he pisses for 2 minutes straight, drunkenly hiccuping the entire while. i help him into bed after that, seeing how he’s hard again.

i let him hump me pathetically while he continues to burp in my ear and blast wet farts into the blankets until he shoots his disgusting load all over my back and passes out, farting in between loud, snored caused by his obesity related sleep apnea

<<33 god i’m in love

[sashiavi]

I know Sam isn't that mean, but a germophobic kitty hybrid farmer getting absolutely bullied by a Golden retriever hybrid Sam and Chocolate Lab hybrid Alex.

A kitty hybrid farmer who doesn't shake hands with anyone and always puts on hand sanitizer after visiting Pierre's. The kind of person to wear vinyl gloves when browsing the library, not for the sake of the books themselves, but rather for her own peace of mind.

One who can always be seen grooming her tail to be a perfectly kempt white, never a blot of dirt to be found despite her occupation

One who always hangs out with the "Cleaner" hybrids, like Chinchilla Abigail or rabbit Maru, but never once considers engaging with the two dogs, considering their lack of spatial awareness and hygiene in her humble opinion. Although I can't help but think that they might not appreciate her cleanliness as much as she does...

(smut ensues)

Omggg.. Something about those messy and clumsy puppies </3

warnings for sweat, body odor, threesomes and hybrids - 0.5k words

Both boys helping out on the farm for their strength and eagerness, chopping down trees, tilling the rich soil, dirty and muddy, sweat dripping down their bodies, staining the fabric of their shirts. Alex wipes his forehead with his arm, biceps raising to reveal the stain of sweat on his underarm, shirt riding up enough to reveal the brush of a happy trail disappearing into the waist of his pants, accentuated by the muscle of his abdomen.

Sam was in a similar predicament, skin tacky, laying his arm hairs flat to his forearms, sticky and uncomfortable, his brushy blonde tail tucked and wagging tentatively to reflect his mood. Both men pant, huffed as if they were dogs- Ears twitching to avoid the wrath of the sun, tails trying to cool off their bodies, a shirt discarded and thrown over Alex's shoulder.

Dirty and grubby mutts.

Messy and sloppy- Especially when they slobber all over your cunt, fighting each other with their tongues just to get a taste of your sweetness. So pretty and pristine, put together and seemingly untouchable! That's why it's all the more special to ruin your pussy with their tongues.

They whimper and growl, vibrations buzzing at your clit, lips suckling before the pop off and a tongue is fucking past the ring of your creamy hole, all while another sweaty mutt latches on to your sensitive kitty cunt.

You want to squirm- scold them for being so dirty in your home, want to tug painfully at their ears and have them yelp away. But Yoba, you can't stop the purrs that trill up your throat, mewly calls bordering on a meow as a set of pointed canines sink into the mound of your cunt, tongue thrashing abuse on your clit.

Their deep musky scents overwhelm your senses, two male hybrids falling victim to the pheromones twinging in the air.

You shouldn't be surprised when one of them mounts on your kitty cunt, Alex's fat and veiny puppy cock kissing against your hole, his thick knot already daring to show itself with his eagerness. You card your fingers through Sam's messy hair, cool and damp with sweat and Yoba knows what else. Your mind screams to let go, scrub away the stain on your fingers but you can't! Not when the pudgy tip of Alex's cock plugs up your pussy, making them kiss. Your hand tightens, threading through Sam's hair with a squeeze, the poor puppy whimpers, nose nuzzling into your tummy, lips kissing against the bulge of Alex's cock daring to bud below your belly button.

Plap, plap, plap goes Alex's hips against yours, throat letting out excited whimpery howls while he takes to your cunt. Sam's ears twitch against your tightening hand as his tongue laps at the sticky wet mess between you, sweet cream and sweat, hot musk of pre and spit dribbled from Alex and himself, making himself useful and cleaning up the gooey mess they were causing.

Rare pair that I need to think about more </3 tysm for sharing your yummy thoughts~

[lovingbarbariancomputer]

You know it’s better this way. you know you’re supposed to have a fat belly. Feels right to push it out so everyone can see what a good boy you’ve been. You’re becoming a fuckin man, bro. And it feels better than sex doesn’t it? Can’t stop rubbing your belly, feeling it get bigger and bigger. Watchin all your bros get fatter. In America, that’s just part of bein a man. Just thinkin about it gets your dick rock hard. Your dick knows what it wants. And we both know it’s gonna get what it wants. It wants you domesticated, dumb, and most of all, fuckin fat, bro. It’s only natural. It happens to all American men at some point. What’re you gonna do, resist? You know you want it bro. You want it real fuckin bad. Cause you’re a good boy aren’t you? Look at yourself. Rubbing your belly almost has you cummin your fuckin pants. Youre gonna eat big, cause that’s just how you rewired your brain. And we both know there’s no goin back bud. You’re a fatboy now. That’s just what American men do bro. The whole world knows American men can’t help themselves. So go on, eat up fatboy. Make your country proud. All your bros are doin it, might as well join them

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Helloo! It's my first time requesting:)) I love your fics lol. You write so good!!

Can I please request yandere bonten men with a slightly chubby bimbo reader who's insecure about her weight. She's bubbly, gullible and naive. They caught her talking to someone who's tryna hit her up. For the nsfw part can I please get belly bulging 😔

no? *sigh* fine.. here's my offering..

🫱🏼(‿o‿)🫲🏼

Yandere!Bonten!Mikey x Chubby!Insecure!Bimbo!Reader

♡ NSFW, fem reader, wife!reader, mention of Sanzu and Bonten execs, brief mention of murder, gun use, lowkey naive!reader, size kink, belly bulging, big dick!Mikey, spanking, unprotected sex + creampie, kinda rough sex, not proofread ♡

note: I didn't know if you wanted a poly relationship or separate, so I just chose Mikey (I couldn't do all of them, I'm sorry but my brain is fried), I'm trying to keep the note short so anything else I have to yap about is in the tags

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You, your husband, and the Bonten executives were out at one of their nightclubs, trying to enjoy the little bit of time they had to spare due to their demanding jobs. You were in your cutest little dress, Mikey's favorite dress to be more precise. The one that hugged your curves just right and drove him damn near insane from how bad he wanted to rip it off of you.

Bonten had all gone their separate ways throughout the night, essentially leaving Sanzu in charge of watching you. He walked away from the booth you were sitting at for not even five minutes just to turn around and see a man, who he recognized as one of your coworkers, sitting across from you and quite obviously flirting with you.

Sanzu's first thought is to get this man away from you, by any means necessary. He walks back over to the booth, drawing his gun and pressing it to the man's temple.

"I don't know if you know this, but this lady right here is my boss's wife. So I suggest you move unless you want a piece of metal in your brain."

As soon as he's made aware of the situation, Mikey gets security to escort the man out the club, you can tell he did it because he has the slightest of smirks on his usually blank face. He sits down next to you and pulls you into his lap, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as if to give you a warning.

"What did I say about talking to strangers?"

"But he's not-"

"Don't talk back to me, I could have this whole place burned to the ground in a matter of seconds with that bastard trapped inside."

Soon, the rest of Bonten comes over and surrounds you at the table, naming off all the things they could do to your coworker.

"We could send some of our men to his house, teach him a little lesson without-" Koko tries to suggest.

"Or we could just take care of him ourselves." Sanzu interjects, itching to whoop some ass.

They couldn't care less about the man being your coworker because employees are always replaceable and they know Mikey would rather you not work with him anyway, so they all silently agree to take care of him permanently later on. For now, Mikey has to take care of you. He excuses himself, dragging you from the club into the car, and as soon as he gets you home he's bending you over the kitchen counter and pushing your dress up past your hips.

"C'mon baby, you know better than to test me like that, don't you?"

Mikey brings his rough, calloused hand down on your ass, smirking as he hears the little squeak that slips out your mouth. He grips your soft hips, his bulge pressing right against your pussy through your panties. He unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants and underwear down. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your plump thighs to reveal your soaked cunt.

“Look at you, all wet and ready for me.”

His middle finger slides back and forth between your folds, brushing lightly against your clit and making you weak in the knees. He lines himself up with your entrance and eases in, his fat cock stretching you out and causing a painful yet pleasurable burning sensation deep in your stomach. You can feel the tip of his dick knocking against the inside of your tummy, bulging through and pressing you firmly against the counter.

"Fuck! You're squeezing the life outta me."

"T-too big 'Jiro.."

"Too big? C'mon you can take it baby, you always take me so good."

His hips slap against your ass as he thrusts hard, his hand burying itself in your hair and pulling you off the counter to get a deeper angle. His free hand reaches around, cupping your tummy and applying pressure to the bulge formed there.

"You're so full of me, aren't you baby?"

All you can do is nod hurriedly and spew out nonsense in the form of moans, too fucked out to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. He presses soft kisses down your neck to your shoulder, his thrusts slowing down as he feels your pussy clenching around him as you cum. He lets out a raspy grunt shortly after as he starts to cum, filling you with his hot, gooey load.

He chuckles breathlessly as he pulls out, high off of his orgasm as he watches his cum leak out of you and drip down your thighs.

"You did so good princess. Gonna start behaving now, right? No more talking to strangers yeah?"

You mumble a soft 'Mhm' as your legs start to give out and you lie against the counter.

"Good." He peppers kisses on the nape of your neck before fixing his pants and helping you walk to the bathroom, knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about anyone stealing you away.

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl

[archangeldyke-all]

I feel like if Vika had a baby she wouldn’t baby talk and have full on conversations with them. Like she’ll tell the baby how whiskey prices went up and how “fucking stupid” it is, or she’ll talk about some new kid at her job and how “the fucker” can’t do anything right LMAO

sugar u r the smartest person i know

men and minors dni

you and everyone who meets the baby talk to her like anybody talks to a baby, cooing and exaggerating and using an exaggerated baby voice.

your typical conversations with your kid for the first year of her life go something like 'awe, do you have a poopy? sweet baby made a big poopy.' or 'can you say: mama? mmmma mmmma?'

sevika, however, talks to your kid like she's an old friend.

you'll catch her feeding your daughter baby food, scooping up the goop that falls down onto her chin as she chats. "fuckin' silco was gettin' on my last nerve today. would you be pissed if we revoked his 'godfather' status? i know he spoils you, but i think we could find a suitable replacement, someone who doesn't have their head stuck up their ass. he thinks he runs the fuckin' place, he forgets we're co-owners. co. that means both. you're so lucky you don't have to work, you know that? you've got it made, kid, shit, you don't even have to feed yourself."

or, after you've had a long day at home with the little fucker, who's been screaming her head off and refusing to latch onto your tits to drink, you overhear sevika talking to her as she gently dances her around the living room. "you gotta give your mom a break, kid. i know you're probably sicka breast milk, but it's important you drink it, it's got all kindsa good shit in it that'll make you strong. like this, see?" she asks as she flexes the arm not holding your daughter. "keep drinkin' your milk and you'll be as strong as me in no time. well, you'll have to have a pretty strict workout regiment too, it's not all genetic. though, don't tell your mom, but i'm glad you've got my build-- she's a little wimp. you're strong like me. she hates it 'cause you came out so big 'n tore her pussy apart comin' out but i think it's great. you'll be a great athlete once you figure out the whole walkin' thing..."

or at bathtime, while she's got your baby in the sink, gently shampooing the two or three hairs on her head, you're guaranteed to find her catching your daughter up on the latest drama on the soap opera she swears she doesn't watch. "i know, it's fuckin' crazy! but, then, get this, molly, the homewrecker from season three? she shows up pregnant, swearing it's travis' kid! mind you, this is all at a funeral-- at shepard's funeral!" your daughter coos. "oh, shepard's the one who came out gay in season four but then decided to marry miriam in season five, because she needed her greencard." your daughter coos again, and sevika takes this as understanding. "right, you remember. anyways this pregnant bitch molly comes marching in while we're all crying because shep's dead, and she's like 'everybody look at me and my big fat belly!' turns out? she's stuffing her stomach with blankets..."

the funniest thing is that your daughter seems to understand it all, blinking up at sevika with big, interested eyes, absorbing her every word, cooing when she's silent, like she's responding to sevika's commentary.

after a while, it starts to rub off on you, and pretty soon, both you and sevika are talking to your little girl like she's an adult.

it's all fun and games until she starts talking, and her first words are 'fuck' and 'mama' and 'dickhead' and 'milk'

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[doberbutts]

I was typing a big long thing about the changes I've experienced in a year on testosterone and how it's affected me and all that and then tumblr ate it and I really don't feel like retyping that whole thing but I am kinda salty about it so tldr:

Starting testosterone has been the best thing for my health that I've done. Ever. Better than getting a service dog. Better than restructuring my life to cater to my disabilities. Better than any procedure or medication or otherwise that I've tried. Simply rubbing a pack of gel on my arm once a day has done more for me than anything else.

When I went to my endo to start T, I went with a suspicion that I am intersex. She confirmed it via blood test and told me that with my variation I could try two different things: estrogen to control my high levels of natural androgens, or testosterone to lower my estrogen further and make it stop arguing with my androgens about whether I'm supposed to be a boy or a girl, as it's that argument that was causing a significant portion of my health problems. Estrogen has been tried in the past and only made things worse. She told me it was my choice, and only I could choose my path forward, as I knew my body the best.

When TERFs have a fit about gender affirming care, they usually leave out people like me, or they brush my story aside by saying that I'm just an anomaly, or they claim for me and my demographic that we don't want to be part of this discussion. But I don't fit their definition of a woman- I have a testicle, and my natural testosterone was within normal range on the low end for a cisgender, perisex man, and enough male sexual partners have commented on what's in my pants to tell me that it's far from the picturesque womanly pussy, especially considering I can- and have- use it to penetrate with the help of devices designed for cis men who are a little lacking in length.

When TERFs have a fit about gender affirming care, they scaremonger about side effects and changes. But, I was already hairy. I was already growing facial hair. I already had atrophied- and by 30 to the point that it's not really possible to fix without significant medical intervention. I was already infertile. I already had an adam's apple and a deep voice. I already had belly fat and blood pressure problems. My menstrual cycle was already hellish and had interfered with my school and work schedules. A popped ovarian cyst sent me to the ER.

I'd tried no treatment. I'd tried estrogen-based solutions. These not only did not work but actively made things worse. I was fainting at school. I was calling out of work. I couldn't drive without my service dog. I couldn't go out and have fun with my friends. I spent days at a time laying in bed in too much pain to move.

TERFs say, gender affirming care turns you into a forever patient.

I already was one of those. I almost died when I was a baby strictly because of lack of access to care that accepts children who are born who are both and also neither from the womb, before anyone has a chance to develop a personality or understand the difference between a boy and a girl.

Testosterone has turned me into a "once every 3 months" patient instead of a "twice a month minimum" patient. I pay less than $15/month for my prescription and it's mailed to my house in three-month increments. Stopping my wildly irregular and incredibly painful menstrual cycle has increased my quality of life so much. My body doesn't ache for no reason anymore. I don't faint anymore. I can go out and do things and not be punished for it for days on end by fevers and chills and vertigo.

Don't let a handful of transphobic assholes scare you. If this is your way forward, then live your life to its fullest.

My only regret is that I didn't have the chance to do this sooner.