#and now when I eat more than one big meal a day I start worrying that number go up and I’ll have to get that talk again

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

uh oh the metaphorical doctor in my head is getting mean

[azrielbrainrot]

Those Eyes

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Oral, Face Fucking

Description: You can't get over the idea of Azriel fucking your face after a particularly intense dream.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, face fucking, cum eating, bit of cum play, spitting in mouth, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics

Word Count: ~1,2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“Are you sure you can take it, princess?”

He sounded somewhat distracted, entranced by the way his fingers pumped in and out of your mouth, purring at the way you nodded up at him with pleading eyes. He simply hums, pressing the pads of his fingers on your tongue, testing your gag reflex for the millionth time since you'd gotten down on your knees.

It's not like you had never sucked his cock, so you didn't understand why he was making such a big deal of this. You just wanted to help him relax after a long day, and what better way to do that than letting him fuck your face. It was only a coincidence that you couldn't stop thinking about it ever since you had a dream a couple of weeks ago.

One of your hands reaches for his obviously hard cock, stroking it over his pants encouragingly, your eyes never straying from his. He pushes his fingers in deeper, chuckling at the choking sound you make at the unexpected intrusion, “Behave.”

After a few more thrusts, he pulls his fingers out, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips for a moment. You were ready to start begging properly, but when he shoves his own fingers in his mouth, tasting you and humming around them like it was his favorite meal, all thoughts evaporate from your mind.

“Az,” you whine, unashamedly pouting up at him.

“Don't worry, princess,” he starts, hands reaching for his pants, finally pulling out his cock and stroking it in front of you. “When have I ever not given you what you wanted?”

You can't help the grin from spreading across your face, and he can't help the enamored look on his, leaning down to kiss you, uncaring of the mess he had just made of you. Taking this opportunity, you reach for his cock again, this time he lets you stroke it slowly, his own hand stopping so you could take over.

For a moment you forget what you were supposed to be doing, lost in the feeling of his tongue against yours and the soft groans escaping into your mouth every time you tighten your grip on him. Azriel moves before you, pulling away and holding onto the back of your neck, thumb stroking the soft skin as he studies your eyes, silently asking you once more if you were sure you wanted to do this, as if the begging wasn't answer enough.

Holding onto his base, you lean over to suck the head of his cock into your mouth, smirking at the way his eyes blink closed, a delicious moan of your name escaping him. It seems this was enough to convince him as he starts guiding your movements, thumb holding onto your jaw to keep it open, guiding his cock deeper into your warm mouth.

As soon as he starts thrusting, you understand his concern. Azriel was big and, while you had gotten used to sucking his cock, doing it on your own was a lot easier. You could stop and slow down everytime it became too hard to breathe or your gag reflex made itself known - right now you were completely at his mercy.

Azriel knew your body like the back of his hand though, stopping right when he knew you couldn't take anymore, content in only fucking a little more than half his length into your mouth instead of forcing it all down your throat and hurting you.

Despite your initial confidence and eagerness, your jaw was already starting to ache and your knees had long since started to bruise, even with the pillow he had thrown down for you to kneel on, but you intended on seeing this to the end, especially when you could see Azriel fighting to keep his sanity, hazel eyes studying the way his cock disappeared in and out of your throat, spit covering your chin and dripping down to your breasts, tears flowing from your eyes, wetting your eyelashes as you desperately tried to blink them away, purring at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open so you could watch him back, at how your scent shifted, growing deeper with arousal as you soaked through your underwear even though he hadn't touched you at all.

“Is this what you wanted? Needed me to fuck your throat like this?” The words come out breathy, a testament to how close he already was, you hum around his cock, savoring in the tremble that runs through him. “Fuck, you're perfect.”

His hips were rising from the mattress, grinding into your mouth just like he does your cunt, fingers lost in your hair, holding you down every time he thrusted up, your hands holding onto his thighs, nails digging into his flesh as you desperately tried to keep up.

When you reach to cup his balls, touching them how you know he likes, he loses himself, gripping onto you tighter and fucking his cock deeper into your mouth, hips faltering and groans rising in volume as shudders run through his body. He's cumming down your throat within a few thrusts, curses and moans of your name flowing past his lips, blown out hazel eyes never straying from yours.

He pumps you full of his cum as you try your best to swallow as much as you can around him, squeezing your thighs together as you feel him throbbing on your tongue, reminded of the feeling of his thick cock filling your cunt up instead. You wait for him to stop thrusting, ignoring the way your jaw and throat screamed at you so you could extend his pleasure as long as possible, reveling in how good you were making him feel.

A scarred hand cups your cheek sweetly as he slows down, soon coming to a stop, the adoration in the gesture contrasting with the heat still present in his eyes, his cock not fully softening even when he pulls out.

“You did so good, princess,” he murmurs, keeping your mouth open with his thumb on your chin, watching the remaining cum and drool pooling inside your mouth.

Azriel leans down, you almost think he was going to kiss you, but when he keeps his thumb in place you understand what he wanted to do, opening your mouth wider instantly. He smirks and hums in approval, spitting right on your tongue, pushing any trail of cum that escaped your lips back inside as well, cooing at the mess he made as he swirled his finger over your tongue.

“Now swallow for me,” he says, moaning when you immediately do as you're told. “Good girl, so perfect for me.”

His hands move down to waist, lips falling over yours as he lifts you up with no warning, swallowing the surprised yelp you let out. You recover quickly, kissing him back with as much hunger, moaning into his mouth as his scarred hands caress your bruised knees, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him impossibly closer, getting lost in him yet again.

Both of you were breathing heavily when you finally pulled away, leaning your forehead against his as one of his hands finds your cunt, coaxing a finger inside and pumping it in and out slowly, sighing contently despite your sore body and throat.

[pedge-page]

Cravings

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!reader

Summary: Pussy eating king frankie, who gets his aforementioned nickname when you tried to come up with ways to prevent him from relapsing back to coke.

Warnings: soooo much oral —pussy eating, cum eating, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants, kissing, Frankie's mouth is everywhere, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, little dub con since Frankie doesn't ask if he can cum inside, overstimulation, free use esc situations

Notes: This is NOT the Frankie free-use series I mentioned before; I'm a bit delayed with writing it, so here's something else i had started as a drabble but then... did not stay a drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoy this fic!

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Rather than drowning himself in coke, Santi slyly suggest he drowns himself in pussy instead. The guys around the table laughed, but you kind of agreed and told him you'd help set him up on hookups. Frankie didn't want to go through the trouble of having to find a potentially different girl each night. Plus, his cravings were sporadic. He would need his fix in that moment whenever it came.

He remembered back when you had drunkenly admitted guys could hardly satisfy you because you had a high drive, usually cumming on your fingers at least 6 times a day before bed, often times more on lonely weekends. He was left speechless at the time, but now he couldn't get Santi's proposition mixed with that knowledge of you out of his head.

You tried to cook him meals instead or buy him hoards of candy, but the idea was stuck in his mind. You knew you'd be a convenient alternative, given you only lived less than 10 minutes away and was always around when he needed help. But you were afraid of crossing that line with one of your all time best friends.

Eventually, being around him so much—"on call" as the boys put it—left you susceptible to his sweet touches, ghosting lips against your ears, sporadic twitches and jittery hands, antsy fingers dancing along your hips. You considered the option heavily before finally caving: you were doing this to HELP him, as his friend. Just a little relief every so often when he absolutely needed it.

You came 9 times on his tongue the first time. It wasn't even that he was trying to make you cum, but the eagerness in the way he moved so fast, growling and moaning at the taste, his lips attached and never left your heat. His big nose just perfectly bumping your clit each time he pointed his tongue dove deep into your craving hole, curling up and hitting that soft spot inside you left you shaking and crying out his name, back arched and fingers clawing at his shoulders.

He was sated for almost 6 days (and you needed the ample recovery time because not even your fingers could make you cum so hard) before the craving hit again. Incessant knuckles pounded your doorstep. You had barely unlocked the door before he was shoving himself in and devouring your mouth with his. "I need another hit, carniño."

He didn't wait for a response, knocking you on your ass on the sofa and stripping your sweats and panties off before throwing one leg over his shoulder. Flattening his tongue, he licks a long strip along from your hole to your clit, obscenely guttural moans from the back of his throat filled your ears. He looked wild-eyed and crazy, as if starved for weeks and was finally given the sugar rush of the century.

You inevitably move in with him, claiming his spare bedroom, worried about how bad he gets when he goes anything longer than a few hours without you.

He makes you ride his face until you're suffocating him, and he still can't get enough. Your juices flood his mouth and nose and his eyes roll back as he loses air. You try to get off and apologies, but he's caged your thighs with his muscular arms, holding your pussy flat against his face as he devoured you more, ignoring your squirming pleas. He hums against your nub, the vibrations sending you into your own addictive high. You cum again, and again, and again, and soon you're tugging his hair, crying his name with fat tears down your cheek, leaning back and scratching at his chest to let off, but its useless. He's so lost in your cunt that you become light headed, barely holding on to the headboard as your lower body continues to spasm.

He only pulls off for a minute, squeezing his nostrils to force out your juices. He's so dazed, pupils blown wide, beard and mustache drenched in your slick, so pussy-drunk and in love that he wants to do it again. "Sweetest fucking cunt, I swear. Just wanna curl up and live inside here, querida."

You offer to suck him off but he gestures embarrassingly down, where you turn to see a dark splotch on the belt-line of his pants where the tip of his spent cock peaks out, dribbling little white drops onto his lower belly, having cum untouched just from eating you out.

It gets to the point where you lock yourself in the bathroom when you take a shower just to have 10 minutes of peace. Your pussy is so puffy, clit so swollen from his constant assault day and night that you have to calm down and remind yourself what good its doing for him. He hasn't touched the white powder in weeks.

He's wondered where you've gone when he sees the bathroom light illuminate under the door. He knocks a few times, then raps harsher with his fists, calling out your name. You tell him you just need a minute. The makeshift locks on the bathroom door of Frankie's apartment isn't designed to keep an ex militant out, and he just pushes it forward with enough force that it gives way and he let's himself in. You go to cover yourself when he pulls the shower curtains away, but the same needy expression on his face as he narrows in to the slit between your legs has you aching once again. It's Pavlovian, the way he stares, practically drooling, hands twitching by his side, sending signals to your cunt to start dripping for his appetite. He spins you around so your cheek is smothered against tile, ass out towards him, not caring about the water drenching his baseball cap, grey shirt and pants as he kneels on the shower floor and puts his face between your legs. He moans when his lips start sucking on your nub, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole. He keeps you in your spread position with his arms holding your waist, making their way to spread your ass for him to dive further in, knees between your heels. You reach one arm back, knocking his cap off as you card your fingers through his damp hair, gripping it when you cum and grind yourself back on his scruffy face.

He's otherwise so gentle, so soft spoken, but when he gets between your legs, something primal takes over and you can hardly recognize him.

Sometime in the evening while you were watching a movie, you see his knee bouncing next to you. You has snapped at him earlier and refused his hunger when he peppered kisses all over your neck, down your back, then tried to yank your pants down while you were cooking dinner for the two of you, nearly burning your arm on the stove from such force.

You hated that you had outright refused him for the first time, but the truthfully the swollenness between your legs needed rest before he wrecked you again. He's biting his lip so hard, stealing glances at you before rubbing his hair and shifting his cap back on.

You instead take your top off, having gotten comfortable enough to go without a bra when it was just the two of you. Frankie is a bit shocked, only used to seeing you strip your pants first before anything else.

You crawl over to him before sitting in his lap, thighs spread over his. He swallows the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off of your tits right in front of him. His legs are still bouncing in agitation, the movement making your breasts jiggle right in front of him. He groans, licking his lips, breathing heavily.

"She needs a break, Fish," you said quietly, your soft and small hands seeking his big and callous ones, pulling them up over your waist before letting them settle on your cups.

He doesn't hesitate or ask further, head leaning forward and lips immediately latching on to your nipple. He moans, eyes closed as he sucks around the areola, tongue swirling your pebble as he kneads them in his hands.

You're trying so hard not to grind down on his cock, instead sitting upright on your knees so you're not fully resting your damp panty-covered crotch against the tent in his pants. The position is more head level with your tits, but he doesn't like that. He grips your hips to bring you flush against him, gasping out when you instinctually start rocking your hips steadily against his clothed length.

He noticed how heavily your chest is flexing, glaring up at you to see your brows furrowed, face tilted towards the ceiling trying not to cum on him. He cups his hands against your cheeks and brings you in for a sweet kiss, his lips slotting perfectly against yours as his hands return to palming your breasts. He presses his forehead against yours so your eyes meet, goosebumps wracking your whole body at the lust behind his eyes, and something more you couldn't place. "So good to me, querida. Perfect lips"—he gently pecks your lips—"perfect tits"—then a generous kiss to each of your breasts—"my perfect girl." You could smell the scent of your pussy on his lips, as if they'd be stained there now. Kissing your lips, your throat, collarbone, down the valley of your breasts, and erect nipples, and all the way back up again, was enough to keep his mouth busy and his craving subsided. And it worked almost as well, the two of you cumming sticky and wet against one another in your underwear with heavy sighs and sated eyes; you had calmed him down enough to get him to remove his clothes and put on a fresh pair of boxers before tucking him to his own bed with your favorite blanket.

As you tip toed into the bathroom to prep for a bath, you stared at your naked reflection: how swollen, and red your breasts were, covered in raised bite marks the shape of Frankie's jaws. Among your new scars are the faded scratches and bruises of Frankie's fingertips on your waist, stomach and lower back from how incessantly he devours you while his face is buried in your sopping pussy, like he had to sink his claws into you so you wouldn't slip away as he feasted. You look like you were attacked by a passionate lion.

His sweet nothings every time he stared into your eyes was what really turned you on. You tell yourself that it was just the withdrawal symptoms talking. That he was basically just high on a new drug.

-

To you, it must have looked like Frankie's craving were only getting worse with how increasingly frequent his lips found themselves attached to your body. In truth, his desire for coke steadily grew less, and it wasn't the replacement of the powder that he was seeking from you but rather the insaitability of finally having you that grew stronger.

The rest of boys noticed the effects you're having on Frankie too. They see it when he meets them for a drink every other Saturday, the way he anxiously taps his foot under the table, glancing around like he's unsure what to do, where to go, because he can't sit still. It's the signs of his cravings kicking back in, and they're all worried at first. But it's not until you up show later and slide into the booth next to him that they notice: Frankie casually drapes his arm around your shoulders like he always did—that part was normal. But what was new is how they could visibly see Frankie's heart rate slow, the way he slumped against the bench and completely calmed down from just your presence.

They also couldn't help but notice the way his eyes raked you with a mix of lust, love, and obsession, his dark gaze never once leaving the sight of you the entire night. All the while you laughed and chatted with them about your week, oblivious to the change in demeanor of your friend from just a few months ago.

You assured the boys that you two weren't fucking—and it was true, you hadn't slept with him once. albeit a few blow jobs, it was exclusively just Frankie eating you out or kissing. You were very hopeful that his cravings were going to go away soon since its the longest he's been off coke. You were even talking to your old landlord to see if your old apartment a few blocks away still had openings since you'd be moving out of Frankie's place soon. Santi couldn't help but see Frankie's dejection, his arm sliding away from you as he excused himself to get more beer.

By the end of the night, Frankie was drunk out of his mind. Will suggested he slow down so he wouldn't pass out before he could walk home. It sounded like a good plan, until Francisco glanced over to the bar and saw you sitting there and smiling at a guy who was flirting with you. Fish took a giant gulp of his beer, downing the entire jug before slamming it on the table and striding out of the booth towards you. He overheard the guy asking if you had a ride home tonight.

"She comes home with me. Every. Night," he slurred, his sweaty palm skimming possessively over your jean-clad thigh and snaking between your legs, face coming so close to you that your noses slide against each other. Frankie's eyes bore into yours with so much desire, it bordered on range. You knew those were his craving eyes. The pungent smell of alcohol on his breath made you flinch as he tried to pull you in for a kiss. You quickly tell the confused guy that he's your roommate and you need to get him home immediately. You could barely finish excusing yourself from the stranger before Frankie was dragging you out of the bar. You managed to wave to the others, making a drinking gesture and pointing to Frankie before being yanked into the street.

He was stumbling all over the place, breath uneven as you hoisted him up to lean against you, eventually making it through his apartment entrance and turning the key to unlock his unit.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Frankie slammed the door close behind him and pinned you up against it, his hands roaming your body as his mouth desperately sought yours. "Craving," he mumbled against your open lips. "Need"—tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it before releasing with a pop— "need you," he panted.

"I know, I know—Jesus Fish. I'm—gonna help—gonna take care of you—" you breathed, ashamed of how quickly you could feel your panties dampen. It never bothered him though, and only encouraged his sweet tooth more. You weren't nearly as drunk as him, but your few margaritas made you extremely susceptible, even welcoming, to his touch.

You hummed into his shoulder when his hard bulge rubbed purposefully against your covered core. He bit your earlobe as he fisted your low-neck shirt before pulling it down roughly, the fabric tearing away. You gasped, ready to scold him but he pressed his mouth on you again, teeth clashing, his hands slotting down your body to pinch, grope, scratch at any bit of skin he could get.

"So—so good t'me. Always taking—such good care of me, cariño."

His fingers dip into your ass and hoist you up so he's carrying you, your arms and legs wrapped securely around him as he boldered through his apartment, kicking his door open before tossing you on the bed, watching you bounce. You never break eye contact as you unbutton your jeans at the same time Frankie pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to unfasten his belt and zipper.

Clambering over you to reseal your lips, you breath in his scent, hands exploring his tone arms, down his chest and muscle middle all the way to the little pooch of tummy hanging. His hands gripped your jeans and pulled them along with you down the length of the bed, bringing you to the edge, his grip pushing up on the back of your thighs so your knees are digging against your rib cage, pulsing pussy exposed at his mercy. "I fuckin' love this pussy, querida," he growled before burying his face between you folds for the thounsandth time. "So fuckin' wet for me," he mumbled against your thigh, nipping at the skin.

He ate you out with precision, eyes hungry watching you, determined to make you fall apart quickly. He wasn't doing it for his own taste, but the sheer satisfaction of watching you writhe for him, knowing your body inside out as the only one who could get you like this. He's languidly thrusting two fingers in and out. You didn't even need to be stretched: he'd practically been prepping you for months now. You're crying out into the air as you cum, hips bucking against his nose with your heels digging into his shoulder blades. Frankie pulls away, kissing your stomach and up your tits before making you taste yourself on his lips.

The feeling of his cock nudging your entrance make your once dazed eyes go wide and alert. He pauses, suddenly worried. He can't read your expression, time dragging out too long and it scares the fuck out of him that he's taking it too far, that you didn't agree to this.

He had wanted to tell you everything right then: how he dreams of you riding him, or when he fists his cock in the shower when you're at work to the thought of what your tight walls would feel like wrapped around him when first violates you, how he automatically gets aroused now when he just sees you or smells your laundry, or admitting how many times he's actually cum in his pants without you noticing when he is buried between your legs, dying to have you cum around his cock instead of his tongue.

It's not until you sense his hesitation that you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close, sharing the same breath of air, nodding as your calves hook over his ass and squeeze his hips, the tip of his flush cock slipping in to your wet heat.

You both sigh heavily into each other's mouth when he takes charge again and thrusts fully inside you. He scrunches his eyes closed, forehead dipping down to your breast bone to revel in the overwhelming feeling of the tight space inside you.

You warmly caress his hair to bring him back up to you, kissing him and whispering, lips trembling, "Don't—don't think about it. Just... just use me."

His heart sank: You probably just thought this was another hit for him.

He didn't want to think about the fact that you were everything he'd needed in that moment, the image of perfection beneath him beautifully laid out for his eyes, his touch, but not for his soul. He gritted his teeth, pulling out then slamming back in, jolting your whole body up the mattress. It was fast, rough, and not at all how he wanted your first time to be with him, but he couldn't control his urges. He was gasping loudly as he fucked you, your cunt gushing around his member, the obscene sound of slick and skin slapping skin echoing in his otherwise empty apartment.

He brought his thumb to rub messy circles on your clit, sending you into a spasm of praises and expletives, but the most satisfying sound was his name repeated over and over again.

He barely manages to pull out before jerking his cock only twice and creaming all over your folds and clit. Groaning in post orgasmic bliss, he watches you heaving and shaking, filthy pussy covered in his seed. Half of his mind is only working now as he slides back down to lap you clean with his mouth, his own saltiness filling his throat, fingers scissoring inside to get your juices flowing, obsessed with the sight in front of him: your back arched off the bed, heels digging into his lower back as his hands pinning your hips down flat so he can work his mouth over you. And then you're cumming again, so angelic on his tongue, your sweet moans going right to his dick, hardening once again as he ruts into the mattress. He nips your clit and sucks, reluctant to pull away as he lines up and splits you open. You scream out, and if it weren't for the way your barely-recovered battered walls kept sucking him back in, he'd be worried you're in pain. His hands hook under your lower back, lifting you off the bed as he plows into your squelching cunt over and over again.

Youre both covered in a thin layer of sweat, the pillows and comforter of his bed strewn haphazardly around the floor as he dominates you. The headboard slammed recklessly agains the wall, and neither of you cared about your neighbors trying to sleep at 1 in the morning. He ignores the oversensitivity of his cock and your clit, forcing you both into an unexpected climb of another orgasm like it was a primal need.

It was happening without warning; he should be asking for permission, but he knew you took the pill, and he's been dying to release inside you from the moment you first let him put his lips on you. You're cumming on his cock again, hips bucking and grinding against him without your clit being touched, and he was done for.

With a harsh cry, he climaxes again, his length flooding your womb with ribbons of white. His arm shoots in front of him, flat on the bed next to your ear to hold himself up so he didn't crash down on you as his hips jerked, pushing his seed deeper in to you.

He rested most of his weight on top of you, labored breaths combined into one. He kisses the top of your nose, whispering "thank you," unsticking your sweaty bodies as he rolls you two over to have you lying on top, your head next to his. He pats your hair over your ear, pebbling your forehead and eyelids in kisses. His cock twitched in your spent heat, cum leaking out and dripping down to his balls and on the bed.

"Glad I—could...help..." you mumbled, eyes already closed as you drifted into sleep.

His softening dick slipped from your pussy, warm hands wiping you with his shirt before settling you gently on a pillow. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your breaths, naked and fast alseep on his bed. He pulled his sheets higher to your shoulder, his heart beating faster at the way you snuggled further into his pillow.

Frankie stared at the ceiling for hours, hand on his forehead in anguish, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to tell you it wasn't cocaine he was craving last night.

- - - -

Part 2: Crash

Series masterlist

[awkward-walking-potato]

can i request for Logan howlett x reader who suffers from iron deficiency like one day reader just faint and it took some time for logan to notice makes him very panicked so since then he started putting more attention to you like reminding you to eat healthy stuffs or something like that it's totally up to you!! please and thank youu

The sun streamed through the large windows of the classroom, casting warm golden rays across the desks. The students were diligently working on their assignments, a mix of concentration and the occasional burst of energy that came with being mutants. You, their teacher, were making rounds, offering guidance and support where needed. Today, though, something felt off.

You’d been feeling more tired than usual, and the nagging dizziness that had been plaguing you for days now seemed to have reached its peak. As you leaned over to help a student with their history project, the world started to spin. You tried to steady yourself, gripping the edge of the desk, but it was no use.

“Miss? Are you okay?” one of the students asked, their voice distant and fuzzy.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your vision blurred, and everything went black.

The next thing you knew, you were lying on something soft—probably the infirmary bed. You could hear murmurs of concern from the students around you. Someone was trying to get them to leave, but their worried voices persisted.

"Move aside, bub. Let her breathe."

That voice. Deep, gravelly, and unmistakable. It cut through the fog in your mind like a knife, and for a moment, the darkness receded.

You blinked your eyes open, finding yourself staring into the intense gaze of Logan Howlett. He was kneeling beside the bed, his usual scowl softened just a bit, showing an expression of concern. The students had been ushered out, likely by Logan himself.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with worry.

You nodded weakly, trying to push yourself up, but Logan gently but firmly pressed you back down.

"Take it easy," he said. "You fainted. The kid ran to get me faster than I could blink."

"Thanks," you muttered, feeling embarrassed. "I didn’t mean to make such a scene."

He shrugged, as if fainting in the middle of class was no big deal. "Don't worry about it. You’re gonna be alright. Hank said it’s iron deficiency. You been skippin' meals or somethin'?"

You shook your head. "No, I’ve been eating, just… maybe not enough iron, I guess."

Logan grunted, clearly displeased. "That stops now. You need to take care of yourself, or you’re gonna be no good to those kids—or yourself."

You nodded again, grateful for his concern, but also a bit surprised. Logan wasn’t known for being particularly nurturing, but there was something about his protective nature that made you feel safe, even in your weakened state.

The next day, you were back on your feet and determined to return to the classroom. When you walked in, though, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Sitting on your desk was a smoothie, bright green and freshly blended. A small note was attached, written in Logan’s unmistakable scrawl:

Drink this. It's got spinach and stuff. - L

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the smoothie. You took a sip, surprised to find that it was actually pretty good. Your students filed in, and as the class went on, you found yourself with a bit more energy, the dizziness held at bay by the thoughtful gesture.

From that day forward, Logan kept surprising you. Some days it was a smoothie, other days it was a carefully prepared meal left in your classroom during lunch breaks. He never made a big deal about it, always leaving the food with a gruff note or a simple nod in your direction when he passed by.

It became a routine, one that you grew to rely on and look forward to. You knew Logan was looking out for you in his own way, and it meant more than you could express.

One afternoon, you decided to catch him in the act. You waited in your classroom, pretending to be engrossed in grading papers, but keeping an eye on the door. Sure enough, Logan slipped in quietly, a smoothie in hand.

“Caught you,” you teased, looking up at him with a smile.

Logan huffed, his signature scowl back in place. “Just making sure you don’t pass out on the kids again.”

“Thank you, Logan. Really. You didn’t have to do all this.”

He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable with the gratitude. “Ain’t no big deal. Just… take care of yourself, alright? We need you around here.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “I will. And I appreciate you making sure of that.”

Logan grunted, trying to hide the fact that he was pleased. “Good. Now drink that smoothie before it melts.”

You laughed softly and took a sip, the familiar blend of spinach, banana, and something sweet filling your senses. Logan gave you one last nod before heading out, but not before you caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As the days went on, Logan continued his quiet care, and you found yourself growing stronger, both physically and in your feelings for him. What started as concern had blossomed into something deeper—a bond forged not only from his protectiveness but from the understanding and respect you shared.

It wasn’t long before the other teachers started to notice the change in you, and in Logan, too. There were knowing looks exchanged in the hallways, but neither of you paid them any mind. This was your routine, your connection, and it worked for the both of you.

And as long as Logan kept bringing you those smoothies, you knew everything was going to be just fine.

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

so around the start of the summer I ate literally as much as my body could possibly handle every day, every meal. I got in the habit of gorging myself until I could hardly breathe, could not stand or sit or even lay down comfortably, and my belly was aching. I couldn’t even sleep, nor could I really do much of anything but sit there helplessly and gasp or groan at how big I’d gotten, and how full I’d become. This was exactly what I wanted.

I was consuming between 7000-12000 calories a day during this time. This lasted about 2 months or so, maybe 10 weeks. I rarely took a break, and this had…intense consequences on my capacity. I routinely ate things like: entire family sized dinner portions for each component(vegetables, starches, meats). Family sized fast food meal deals(usually about 5 combos worth). 7-8 combos from various fast food places(usually their entire menu). Party sized or tailgater tray offerings from restaurants(usually enough for 10-15 people).

I cannot become full now. No matter what I do, if I’m not eating literally family sized portions, I’m not filled. I can become comfortably satiated after 3-4 meals at once, but my belly constantly yearns for more.

I finally have started experiencing some of the crazy ‘feedism fantasy’ tropes I thought weren’t real (or at least greatly exaggerated due to ya know…writing lol). Things like

I literally can get hunger pangs WHILE MY STOMACH HAS A REASONABLE AMOUNT OF FOOD INSIDE. I’m talking I’ve already eaten a heavy plate that is literally 3-4lbs of food. Gone. Inside me. But my belly has the NERVE to growl around it and demand more food.

Sometimes I become anxious when the only amount of food available to me is a normal serving size (this is honestly the hottest. I’m talking whiny, worried, needy feelings because I only got enough food for 1 person.)

i crave eating 24/7, or for long periods. I catch myself daydreaming about sitting down with enough food for a large gathering, and stuffing it all inside myself for literal hours. I’m not kidding, I want to eat for 6-8 hours straight of almost nonstop consumption. I just want to sit down, lean back with my gut supported by my lap or my couch, and stuff it so completely full. I would prefer if my primary activity for the day was eating.

hunger and arousal are now so completely linked I almost cannot experience one without the other…which means I’m hungry and horny pretty much unceasingly. Constantly my mind goes back to sex and eating. I’m literally just daydreaming in the background about when I will get to open my mouth next.

I’ve now eaten many of the feeding fantasy portions. Family meals, party trays, entire cakes, multiple entire pizzas, entire trays of baked goods, entire boxes of cakes, a box of donuts, entire pies, and generally levels of excess that I can only describe as obscene.

This has caused me to really fatten up. I gained 40 or so lbs from the end of March to the middle of July. I also happened to do this without an encouraging, physical, coercive or forceful feeder, which means if I were to have these (what I desperately crave), I imagine I would reach new capacity heights. I primarily eat for fullness. I love that food drunk fullness feeling where my entire body stops functioning properly. I love feeling like all I can literally do is let my belly do its thing and process all the food I gave it. I’m desperate for it. I constantly crave it. The weight gain is an unintentional but welcomed side effect of my incessant gorging.

I cannot wait for my next opportunity. I have so many ideas. Will I finally try 3 pizzas? Will I try to eat more foot longs than I am tall? Will I make myself an entire family banquet and then greedily try and eat it myself? I need to do it soon. I can’t keep eating enough for 6-7 people each day…I need more, and I need it all at once.

[girlietips]

What To Do With A “Wasted” Day 🤍🧘🏼‍♀️🎧

So you’ve worked really hard and now it’s your one day off when you said you would be productive but instead you’ve been in bed all day and it’s already past noon. Don’t worry you are not a failure or lazy you are most likely burnt out and need a break. Here is how to be gentle on yourself while still getting a few things done.

First things first get out of bed.

Best to plant your feet on the ground and allow yourself to breathe and ground yourself.

I have also done where I’ve tossed my phone to the other side of the room so I have to get up to get it (make sure you trust your phone case first though)

Start laundry

I always like to start with my bedding so that I can’t get back into bed. Also because getting into a clean bed at the end of the night is the best reward.

You don’t have to do anymore laundry if you don’t want but it is an easy chore that doesn’t require you to focus on it for a while.

Get out of the house!!!!

Put on some lounge wear and your hair up and get out of your house.

Go get coffee or pick up lunch.

It also helps to go for a walk or pick up groceries for dinner later.

Do 3 things

Pick three tasks that will take less than an hour in total.

These don’t have to be big tasks just any task that will make you feel more accomplished.

Normally I say pick the hardest thing to do first but in times like these I recommend doing the easiest for that quick source of dopamine so you don’t get discouraged . Trying to do the biggest thing first might make you procrastinate more.

Reset for tomorrow

Ask yourself a simple question “how can I be kindest to my future self?”

This can be as simple as gathering your bag for tomorrow or meal prepping a breakfast for yourself.

Or if you are feeling really motivated you can clean your space and do another task from your to do’s

Go to bed

Eat a nice dinner, take a shower, put on a comfort show and enjoy your night!

Remember to go easy on yourself and allow yourself to rest at time. Society and hustle culture will always make you feel like you aren’t doing enough but rest and relaxation is productive.

Xoxo cuties🩰🧘🏼‍♀️🎧

[jsluvtzu]

housewife

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: she shows her appreciation in better ways

cw: SMUT! evil, vile, degrading smut, sana treats you like a 1950s husband would, cursing, slapping, just filthy, men dni

wc: 2.1k

a/n: sana in a suit sana in a suit sana in a suit

the aroma of the food you had been slaving on for hours dispersed through the whole house, filling the empty rooms and seeping into the thin walls.

since 7 am, you’ve been cleaning, tidying, mopping, wiping, and cleaning some more around every single corner of your shared home with sana.

you were what they called a “housewife”, but in sana’s eyes you were nothing more than a disappointment. a nuisance. a body that just does whatever is asked of her.

wiping your hands clean of any leftover sauce on your apron, you grabbed your phone from the counter to check the time.

- “5:48”

she should be home by now. sana worked a 9-5 at a corporate insurance company and usually came home around 5:30. you started preparing the dishes nonetheless and set the table with the proper silverware, one set of knives and a fork for her and one for you.

just when you finished plating the meal for her, you heard sana’s car pull into the driveway and her keys jingle against the lock of the door.

sana opened the door hastily and slammed it behind her, throwing her suitcase down and kicking her shoes off on the floor without a care where it landed.

you knew what this attitude meant. it happened at least once a week when her boss would overwhelm her with something and she would come home with a storm going on inside her head.

you hesitated to greet your wife and ultimately decided against it when she didn’t even look your way and just went straight to the living room, plopping down on the couch with a loud thud and letting out a heavy sigh.

sana took her suit jacket off and loosened her tie, turning on the tv and flipping through random channels to try and distract herself from whatever she had to deal with at work.

you brought over her plate to the couch, handing it to her. “hey honey, long day at work?”, your voice was gentle, but laced with a hint of worry.

sana paid you no mind, grabbing the plate from your hands and gluing her eyes back to the tv screen.

“get me something to drink.”, was the first thing sana said to you since she walked through the door.

you just smiled and went back to the kitchen to grab her a soda.

sana never ate dinner without taking a big sip of something first, so you knew better than to keep her waiting.

opening the can and handing it to her, you slightly blocked sana’s view of the tv and heard her tsks of annoyance. you quickly moved out of her way and went to go sit at the dinner table, the both of you eating alone, together.

that’s when you jumped at the sound of a plate slamming onto the hardwood floor. your eyes drawn to the scene of the crime, finding pasta and sauce splattered everywhere with pieces of ceramic mixed in.

“i’m not eating this shit. it’s disgusting.” sana said it in a monotone voice with no regards to how you might feel about it.

you slowly got up and walked over to sana, scanning the mess you had to clean up and avoiding stepping in shards of the now broken plate.

your face was contorted with both shock and anger, but you held in the last part with a clenched fist.

breathing out shakily, you mustered up enough strength to question sana’s childish behavior.

“why did you do that..” your eyes avoided hers and the grip on your apron grew tighter. sana was glaring at you through your peripheral.

“i come home from a long day at work and you expect me to eat that? i work hard just to be fed dog food?”, sana scoffed and leaned back into the couch, stretching her arms over the top of the couch and manspreading, shaking her head in disbelief.

“i spent at least three hours on that ‘dog food’, sana. it wouldn’t hurt to show a little respect.” your eyes had tears welling up at the edges, just restless to come out.

hearing that, sana’s eyes turned dark and her gaze was narrow. you fucked up. she tapped her finger rhythmically on the soft surface and nodded to herself, planning.

“you think i give a fuck? seriously, do you? i don’t owe you a single ounce of respect, whore. if i don’t like something, i’m not fucking eating it. now clean up your mess.” sana was fuming at this point. not only did she have a ruined dinner, she also had to deal with you talking back to her.

you grabbed the broom and dustpan from the closet and swept up what was left of her tantrum. you were so exhausted from cleaning all day, your body was spent. so tired to the point where you didn’t even notice you were wiping your own tears along with the sauce off the floor.

sana heard your sniffles and whimpers, peering over the arm of the couch and seeing your drained figure. she practically jumped off the couch with aggression and stopped in front of you, grabbing your face violently between her fingers and forcing you to look up at her.

your cries were cut short and you gasped at the sudden action.

“the fuck you crying for? can’t even do the one thing you’re made to do huh? all i ask is that you keep my house clean and have something fucking edible for me to eat when i get home. can’t even fucking do that?” at the end of her question, you felt the cold absence of her touch from your skin, only to feel a stinging heat when her hand lands on your face again, slapping you. the wedding ring she had on was sure to leave a bump. your eyes widened and the hand that you once had at your side went to caress your burning cheek.

“you’re so fucking pathetic.” another slap. this time you unknowingly let out a small moan at her strike, catching yourself and keeping your head down.

sana paused in shock, processing your response to her abuse.

“did you just fucking moan?” sana grabbed your chin between her pointer finger and thumb, lifting your face up to hers again.

“i slapped you.. and you fucking moaned? sana was genuinely curious, never hearing you react like that. her eyebrow was quirked with her lips slightly parted.

your eyes were glassy and bloodshot, your left cheek was marked red with her handprint and stained with your salty tears. to sana, you’d never looked better.

the darkness in sana’s eyes turned into lust in less than a millisecond. seeing you at her mercy and so helpless turned her thoughts into unspeakable ones.

sana looked you up and down once more before she grabbed your throat and lifted you off the ground, dragging you towards the counter by the stove with your back turned.

she stopped at the edge of the marble countertop and you winced at the bruising pain on your lower back.

sana trapped you between her arms at both sides, her hands flat against the cold marble surface. she shifted her leg between yours, pressing up against your core.

you were still recovering from the slaps you just received, mind blurry between wanting to be fucked and wanting to be comforted. but of course sana wouldn’t comfort you, the only way she expressed her “love” was by absolutely breaking you.

sana’s white undershirt was slightly unbuttoned and her collarbone was visible. her loose black tie and messy hair on top of that made every rational thought you had disappear. you didn’t even care about the disrespect she showed you earlier. if anything, you liked it.

“maybe i just needa fuck you until you learn how to cook properly hm?” sana snaked her hands around your back to untie your apron, sliding it over your head and onto the floor. her leg was still slotted between yours and you grinded on her ever so slightly, searching for relief.

“fuckin’ whore can’t think right unless she cums.” you whimpered at her words as sana crashed her lips onto yours, sucking and biting at them. the sounds that filled the room were sloppy and unsynchronized.

sana untied her tie completely with one hand and slid it off her neck without breaking the kiss. she wrapped it around the front of your throat and overlapped both ends at the back, tightening it and bringing it back towards her to hold you there. you moaned at the loss of circulation to your brain, the pressure in your head building up just enough to make your vision fuzzy.

you were wearing nothing except one of sana’s white oversized t-shirts and black lace panties underneath that apron. sana’s free hand slid under your shirt and up to grope your bare breast. the sensation of her cold touch against your warm body made you whine.

“mm- fuck, sana.” she rolled your erect nipple between her fingers and pinched it hard, eliciting pained moans from you.

sana observed you and saw your face losing color, immediately letting her grip on her tie go and pulling it off your throat with one smooth motion.

her hand trailed down to your hip, expecting to pull off a pair of shorts, but feeling the intricate pattern on your lace panties instead.

she ran her fingers over the material, humming in satisfaction. “you wearing these just for me?”

you nodded and pouted at her, whining. “all for you, sana, please..”

“please what? use your words, slut.”

“ ‘need you to fuck me so bad, please.” sana smirked at your desperation, hooking her finger onto your side and pulling your panties down, letting them slide down your legs.

your pussy was sticky from your arousal and throbbing from her teasing finger running through your slit.

sana teased your hole and went back up to your swollen clit, rubbing lazy circles around it and spreading your slick all over. you grinded yourself on her hand, silently urging her to give you more.

you glanced up at sana and saw her eyes fixated on your exposed core, watching the way her hand slid between your folds with ease and how the dim overhead light reflected perfectly off of your pussy, making you shine and glisten.

sana furrowed her eyebrows and held her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly sinking two fingers into you. she bottomed out at your cervix, pulling back out only to pick up her pace and slide inside you again. the erotic squelching sound from just how wet you were was disgustingly hot.

her groans were right in your ear, hearing her curse to herself about how tight you were. your eyes were stuck on sana’s flushed chest, her tendons popping out everytime she breathed. her breathing was heavy and uneven, and you could tell sana was losing herself in the trance that you put her in.

suddenly, sana stopped her movements and grabbed the back of your thighs, lifting you up and onto the counter. you hissed at the cold feeling against your bare skin.

sana pulled your shirt up, revealing your whole upper body to her.

she grabbed the front end of your shirt and held it up to your mouth, motioning for you to open and bite down on the cloth.

“keep it there, you understand?” you nodded, holding the shirt between your teeth and arching your back for sana to see exactly just how much you understood. she responded by tapping your thigh for you to open your legs wider, scooping her arms under your legs and sliding you forward to give her easier access.

sana’s eyes didn’t peel away from your chest for one second when she started fucking you again. her pace was inhumanly fast and yet she still managed to hit your sweet spot every time.

“oh my god, sana- fuck, don’t stop please, fuck” your moans were sporadic and words were mumbled, completely rid of any thought other than cumming right then and there.

“yeah? i’m fucking you so good right baby? don’t i deserve a good meal when i’m fucking you like this?” sana grabbed your face and squeezed your cheeks together, slapping you lightly a couple times.

you agreed with squeaked moans and squeezed your eyes shut, drawing out long yeses in between.

“yes, fuck- oh my god yes,” at that point you weren’t sure if you were answering her question or just begging for her to keep fucking you like that.

“ ‘fuck kinda whore doesn’t know how to cook for her wife? dumb fucking bitch. so useless.”

sana pushed her thumb against your clit and you felt the tightness in your core building up. moaning her name repeatedly, you threw your arms over her shoulders and pressed her face down against your bare chest, holding her there and cumming on her fingers with a loud groan.

you attempted to calm down your breathing and stabled yourself with your hands grabbing sana’s arms. she pulled her fingers out and shoved them between your lips, gagging you and swirling her fingers around your tongue.

“that’s what a good meal should taste like.”

[leighsartworks216]

Happy Birthday, My Jasmine

Zayne x gn!Reader

Happy birthday to me!! I actually started writing this like a week ago, but the 2am inspiration hit and now here I am, staying up when I should be sleeping to write about Zayne being domestic (so so worth it)

Warnings: bathing, implied nudity, kissing, established relationship, very very vague reference to his myth, birthdays, domestic fluff

Word Count: 921

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You sigh softly, displacing the steam floating through the air. The hot water soaks deep into your muscles. It caresses out the tension and the stress, replacing it with pure relaxation.

Originally, you had planned on doing something while you bathed, indicated by the novel and fresh mug of tea sitting nearby, but the water drew you in too deep to even think about doing anything other than unwind. It’s not often you get a chance to take a bath; between the amount of time it takes to indulge to make the set up worthwhile and your work, you just never saw a reason to. But you didn’t have to worry about either of those things today, for one very simple reason:

Today is your birthday.

Now, you don’t make a big deal of it anymore. As a kid, of course, you’d want the whole nine yards of gifts, games and gâteau, surrounded by all your friends (or, at least, all your classmates). But as the years go on, the less weight they carry. You don’t need nine yards - just one will do. You hadn’t even asked for time off work! You’re pretty sure Tara told Jenna, or else Jenna paid close attention to the birthdays of her team. Either way, you have the whole day off.

Zayne wasn’t so lucky. He was so sweet about it, though. He got up early enough to make you breakfast and wished you a happy birthday with your good morning kiss. He asked what you wanted for dinner - whether it was takeout, a restaurant, or something cooked by him - and he called you during his lunch break. (You ended up video chatting while eating your respective meals. Yvonne and Greyson heard your voice and ran into his office to wish you a happy birthday, too.)

Your tea is lukewarm when you hear the front door open and close. Your spirits rise impossibly higher as you wait, watching the wall of the hallway through the open door for his appearance. Sure enough, he’s there in no time, smiling fondly as he crosses over the tile floor to kneel down beside the tub.

“Hello, my love,” he hums. You brush wet, pruny fingers along his cheek. He pulls away from your teasing, only to hold the back of your hand and press kisses to your palm. “How has your day been?”

You sigh contently. “It’s much better now.”

With a hand on the rim to support himself, he sits up and leans over to kiss you properly. His tie dips past the surface of the water, but he pays it no mind. His lips move slowly and purposefully with yours. It’s a languid dance, unhurried and painfully smitten.

You groan quietly against his mouth. “If you don’t stop soon, I’m going to pull you in with me.”

He chuckles, kisses you once more, and pulls away, sitting back on his knees. “Alright.” He kisses your hand again instead, before pulling it from his face to rest over his heart. “I brought dinner. Would you like to eat it now?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll go set it up.” He kisses your hand one last time before freeing it from his grasp to stand. He picks up your half-empty mug. “Do you want any more tea?”

You can’t wipe the stupid, lovestruck smile from your face. You’re not sure you ever want to. “Not gonna tell me how bad caffeine is at this hour?”

He huffs a soft laugh. “I think you deserve to be a little reckless on your birthday.”

“Can you make me hot chocolate?”

“Of course.” He moves your towel to be closer to you. “Take your time getting out.”

“Wait.” You just catch onto his sleeve before he can get too far from you.

He turns his hand over to hold onto yours again. “What is it?”

You can’t help admiring him for a second. He’s tired - you can tell even if he’s trying hard not to show it right now. You see it in the way he carries his shoulders and the slow way he blinks. Yet here he is, taking care of you, ensuring you have the best possible finish to your birthday despite his absence. He’s so beautiful in the white bathroom light. If you could, you’d marry him all over again.

“I love you.”

The tinge of worry along his brow disappears immediately. He sets the mug down beside the sink and bends at the waist to reach you, one hand cupping your cheek as the other holds onto the tub once more to support himself as he kisses you once more. And twice, and again for good measure. They’re not slow, lazy kisses like before, either. He breathes into your mouth with each kiss, slightly shaky, as if he can’t contain his love for you any longer. On the second kiss (second only because he needed to pull back briefly for air), he almost gathers his wits again. On the third, he nearly loses them when you open your mouth to him, wet fingers tangling into his hair to pull him closer and keep him there as he runs his tongue along the roof of your mouth. He has to pull away then for fear of crawling into the bath himself, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours and taking in the bright, adoring look in your eyes.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, heart racing with so much adoration in his chest. “Happy birthday, my jasmine.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikacuzhc

[soaps-mohawk]

The Love Language Of Food

Kyletober Day 9: Feeding

Summary: He won’t let you go hungry. He just wants to take care of you, that’s all.

Pairing: Kyle x fem!reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Feederism, feeding kink, food, foodplay, weight gain, fat kink, weight kink, manipulation, gaslighting, guilt, body dysmorphia, insecurity, a little body worship but in a toxic way, oral sex, munch!Kyle

A/N: And this is where things start to get freaky 😏 there's no going back from here.

MASTERLIST

“Can’t let you go hungry, love.” 

Those are the words you hear most often from your boyfriend. More than ‘I love you’ and even ‘how was your day?’ The phrase is a staple in your household, gracing your ears at least twice a day, if not more. The concept of hunger and being well fed has permeated your life in all forms thanks to your boyfriend and his love of food. 

If food is a love language, then it’s his. 

He never lets you cook. Ever. You’re only allowed in the kitchen to grab food or drinks, but god forbid you put your hand on more than a plate. Even heating soup is frowned upon. It’s his job to take care of you, his job to provide, his job to make sure you’re fed. 

He does just that. 

You watch as he scoops a heaping second helping onto your plate. It’s bigger than the first helping, you think. He won’t let you do anything but sit there as he makes your plate. He knows your favorites, the ins and outs of how you prefer each dish he makes. He takes trying new recipes as a learning opportunity, not for him but for you, observing your eating habits in the way he’s done for the last two years. 

“Eat up.” He says, placing the plate back in front of you. 

You’re full, but you have to eat it. He’ll get that sad look on his face, those big brown eyes shining as he stares at you in disappointment. He’s just worried about you. He just doesn’t want you to go hungry. 

There’s a churning in your stomach as you pick up your fork, hand squeezing tight around the knife as you cut another piece off the juicy chicken. It’s delicious, as all of his food is. He is a good cook, taught by his mother, he says. You’ve met her, you’ve met his whole family many times. They’ve never brought up his habits, the way he always gives you a second helping and dessert, even if you look like you’re about to pop. 

You feel like it sometimes. 

Kyle watches you closely as you continue to eat your second helping. He’s done, plate cleared and silverware placed neatly across it. He’s watching you, eyes following the movement of the fork to your lips, watching as you chew, watching as you swallow before following your fork back down to the plate. 

You force the second helping down, not feeling up to an argument, the inevitable guilty look as you refuse his help, his care, his devotion. 

Food is his love language. 

You can’t break his heart like that. 

The band of your sweatpants is tight around your stomach as you finish the last bite on your plate. You lean back in the chair with a sigh, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. You feel bloated, distended, not an unusual feeling after a meal with Kyle. After every meal. 

He makes you sit on the couch as he does the dishes. You don’t get to touch them, not even when you offer to help him. The kitchen is his office, his sacred space. 

You adjust your sweatpants as you choose to lay on the couch, trying to ease some of the bloating feeling. Your sweatpants are almost too tight, though Kyle wouldn’t complain if you walked around in your underwear. He probably wouldn’t complain if you walked around in nothing. You might have to at this rate. 

None of your pants fit anymore. 

***

The tightness of your shirt has tears stinging your eyes. It’s one of your favorites, or at least it was. It’s too tight now, squeezing around the curves and lumps of your body, things that have only gotten bigger since you started dating Kyle. You let out a sigh, fighting to get the shirt over your head, tired of seeing the pattern on the front stretched across your boobs. You’ve had to go up two bra sizes just this year. 

You poke at your stomach as you stand in front of the mirror in nothing but your underwear. There’s a churning in your stomach as you stare at yourself, and it’s not just from how full you still are. 

“What is it?” Kyle asks as he enters your bedroom, always so aware and attentive. You might have grown to hate it, had it not been the first time you’ve ever had someone care this much. He sets the items he’s carrying on the nightstand before turning to you. 

“I’m gaining weight.” You say with a pout, poking at the rolls of your stomach again. 

“Nah, love.” He says, coming up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re perfect to me. Every inch of you.” He squeezes you tightly, so tightly you’re afraid you might do something embarrassing. “Come on.” He says, turning you towards the bed. His hand slides down your back to your ass, giving it a squeeze. Something else that’s gotten bigger. 

He’s never complained, though. 

“You didn’t have dessert.” He says. Your eyes flicker to the nightstand, and sure enough there’s the familiar chocolate sauce and whipped cream. He even brought the sprinkles up. 

He climbs on the bed, all lean muscle and long limbs. Sometimes you want to hate him, but then he gives you that dazzling smile and you fold instantly. He makes regular gym visits, but your days of working out are over. He gives you that disappointed look if you do even a squat, softly reprimanding you for possibly hurting yourself. 

‘My girl shouldn’t be doing anything. That’s my job. You just sit there and look pretty.’ 

You don’t feel pretty anymore. 

“What is it?” Kyle asks again as you hesitate at the foot of the bed. 

You shrug, looking down at the comforter. “Just not...feeling it right now.” You really aren’t. The bloating in your stomach, the fullness still weighing you down, and the weight of your body’s changes still fresh on your mind. You just want to put on a baggy t-shirt and crawl into bed so you don’t have to see yourself anymore. 

You can picture the frown that forms on his face, the way his brows pull together. “Come here.” He says, reaching out his hand. 

You stare at it for a moment before you climb on the bed, letting him guide you so you’re lying next to him. His hand gently rubs your stomach as he leans over you on his elbow. His lips are pulled up in a soft grin as you stare up at him. His eyes sparkle as he stares back at you, shining with the love you know he feels for you. He does love you. He wouldn’t insist on taking care of you in the ways he does if he didn’t. 

He wouldn’t make sure you’re fed if he didn’t love you.

“You are perfect to me.” He says quietly, still staring down at you with those soft eyes. “You always will be. You’re my girl.” 

His hand shifts lower, still rubbing your stomach. It moves with his hand, his fingers digging into the softness for a moment before relaxing. His palm is warm as it presses against your skin, and he offers no complaint about how it sinks into the softness around your waistline. 

“You know I care about you. That’s why I make sure you’re taken care of.” He leans down closer to you, his breath fanning your face. It smells like chocolate. He must have snuck a taste of the sauce before coming up. “You’re my good girl.” His voice pitches lower. “Always so obedient for me.” His hand presses harder against your stomach as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “So perfect for me.” 

You melt into him as he kisses you, lips moving softly against your own. He knows what he’s doing, kissing the air straight out of your lungs. His hand lifts from your stomach, cupping your cheek instead as he presses against you, a hard bulge pressing against your hip. You moan softly against his lips. All thoughts are wiped from your mind, all doubts and self-hatred out the window as he kisses you, as he grinds his bulge against your body, proving his love and unwavering attraction towards you. 

No matter what. 

“You didn’t get your dessert.” He murmurs against your lips, pressing one last burning kiss against them before pressing himself back up. “Can’t let my girl go without her sweet treat.”

Your stomach twists at the idea of eating again, of forcing more food into your body, but at least you know what to expect this time. Your body betrays you as Kyle leans over to grab the chocolate sauce and whipped cream from the side table before settling on his back. The dampness in your panties that had started as Kyle kissed you intensifies as he begins to spread the chocolate across his body, following it with the whipped cream. The sprinkles come last, some of them sliding off of him and onto the comforter. That’s going to be a mess later, but he’ll be the one worrying about that. 

You don’t have to do anything.

“Well? Come enjoy your dessert, love.” He says, motioning to the sweet treat waiting for you, slathered across his smooth skin. 

The mattress dips as you press yourself up onto your hands and knees, hovering over him from the side. You start at the top, pressing gentle kisses against his skin as you work your way down to his pecs where the first bit of whipped cream is waiting for you. His lips part as you lick at it, spreading the cream across his skin. His eyes are on your mouth as you suck and lick at his skin, cleaning up every last bit of whipped cream and chocolate sauce. You can’t help but hum at the sweetness, satisfying that desire for your dessert, something you always get after you eat. He’s conditioned you to expect it, conditioned you to need it. 

He’s sticky but satisfied as you work your way down his stomach, muscles clenching at the ticklish feel of your tongue on his skin. “C’mere.” He gasps, wrapping a hand around your thigh. 

You get the memo, straddling his shoulders as you continue to lap up the chocolate sauce on his stomach. It’s rich on your tongue, coating it in sweetness as Kyle pushes your panties to the side. You moan against his skin as he presses his face into your puffy lips, inhaling deeply. Your arms buckle as his tongue drags across your pussy, licking you just as you are him. 

He’s getting his own dessert as he eats you out, slurping at your juices as he holds your hips, not caring as you begin to rock back against his face. You had voiced your worries and hesitations once as he invited you to sit on his face. You’re too big, you’ll suffocate him. 

‘Then I’d die a happy man.’ 

All thoughts of self-doubt and self-hatred are wiped away as he continues to lick and suckle at your clit. Your face is pressed against his abs, your skin and his covered in chocolate as you give up trying to lick him clean. He’s perfect, the way he can make you forget, the way he can wipe the very thoughts from your mind with his mouth and his tongue. 

He eats you like he’s trying to devour you, just as he makes you eat to devour his food. 

Food is his love language, you think as your legs shake with your first orgasm of the night. He feeds you because he loves you. 

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[suugarbabe]

okokokok lorenzo berkshire idea??? your writing is so so good you def do him justice 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼☺️

enzo really likes you and all his friends know (maybe reader is in another house .. personally i’m hufflepuff but it really could be any) and they all flirt w you bc his friends know it gets to him and while reader is polite they don’t really encourage(??) the boys’ jokes/flirting bc they only have eyes for enzo too

possibly ending up together !!

i’m turning into such an enzo girly fr 😭💕💕💕 ilhsm

ugh, i have fallen in love with enzo so much, my little lanky broad boy 🥺 also, my requests are closed right now but I wrote it anyway because it was the last thing in my ask before i can get started on my other projects so no worries love x

You weren't really sure what happened, what changed and started making people act differently toward you, but it seemed like for the past two weeks a certain group of boys were paying you more attention.

So here you sat at lunch, deep in conversation with Luna when she suddenly cut you off, "You're being approached again." Her soft tone made it seem nonchalant, but when Mattheo Riddle sat down on the bench next to you the redness in your cheeks was apparent.

"Good morning, Princess. You look absolutely gorgeous this morning," Mattheo grabbed a piece of toast from the pile in front of him before picking up a knife to spread jam over it.

"Thank you, Mattheo, that's very kind of you," You cheeks burned further when he placed the toast on your plate for you before placing a few sausages on it as well.

Mattheo smiled at you, "I know you've got a big test this morning, you should eat well. Though I know you're brilliant so you don't really need any extra help."

You smiled shyly as you took a bite of toast. "Can I walk you to class, beautiful?" You nodded, not seeing a reason to tell him no. He was a gentleman, carrying your books for you, telling you to have a good class before seeing you off through the doorway.

During lunch you were approached again, however by a different member of the same friend group. Theo Nott approached you on your way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ciao, bella," Theo's eyes were definitely captivating. A light sea blue that often spoke all of the emotion he never let his face really tell.

"Hello, Theo," you smiled lightly as the tall boy slowed to your pace. "Could I sit with you at lunch?" His tone was gentle and sweet, so you nodded, giving him permission.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you two entered the hall. If you were more aware of your surroundings, you'd notice Theo chance a side glance toward his own house's table. However you were too in shock that a second boy, a second handsome boy, was not only paying you mind but also eating another meal with you.

Theo was a lot funnier than you expected, making you truly belly, head thrown back laugh. You were surprised that you got along with him, but your humor seemed to be so similar and building off each other.

He asked if he could walk you to your afternoon classes and you accepted. He kept his arms around your shoulders again, continuing to make you laugh the whole way.

After classes were finished and dinner was over with, you and Luna went to the library. You tried your hardest to focus but you couldn't take your mind off of everything the happened earlier today.

"Luna," you called your friends name causing her to look at you, "did you think today was weird?"

Luna smiled happily, "Every day is weird if you look hard enough." You huffed out a sigh, "No, Lunes, I mean, wasn't it weird how nice Mattheo and Theo were to me today. Like, why today? They see me all the time. What's different now. I didn't do my hair differently, what did I do to make them so nice to me?"

Luna sat for a moment, seemingly thinking about her answer, "Are you asking because you think they should be mean to you, or because you wished it was another one of their friends being so nice to you?"

You felt your face pinken for the umpteenth time that day, "Who do you mean? I don't know what you mean..." You knew you sounded unconvincing, but you didn't think you had made it that obvious.

"Lorenzo is actually sitting over there if you want to talk to him," Luna's statement gave you the answer you needed, and also made your stomach fill with butterflies.

But after today, you couldn't hold back any longer. When you got up you saw Enzo a few tables away, his back facing you. You left your belongings at the table with Luna, walking quickly but quietly to where the real boy of your desires resided.

You pulled out the chair across from Enzo, causing him to jump slightly at the sudden movement. When you sat your started immediately speaking, barely giving him time to even register that the girl of his year long affection was finally in front of him.

"Why didn't you come up to me today?" Your question kind of stunned him, Enzo continuing to look at you with a dumbfounded expression.

You let out an exasperated sigh, "Why were two of your closest friends so nice to me today, why did they make me breakfast and walk me to class and put their arms around me?"

The more you spoke of his friends doing, the tighter Enzo's grip was on his quill, tighter and tighter until it finally snapped in his grasp. You let out a small gasp.

"I-I'm sorry. They were doing it to upset me. T-to make me, man up, as they put it," Enzo was playing with the two pieces of his quill, doing anything and everything but looking at you.

You reached across the table, doing your best to cover both his large hands with one of your smaller ones to stop the action. Enzo looked up, meeting your gaze, "Why were they trying to upset you, Enzo?"

Still looking you in the eyes, Enzo took a deep breath, "Well, because I, erm, I fancy you, Y/n. Have for some time. But you're just...Merlin, you're so pretty and whenever I get near you I forget how to speak properly and I lose my train of thought."

You looked at him with a goofy grin, "You think I'm pretty? You...fancy me?"

Enzo mirrored your smile, "Well, yeah. How could I not?" He laced his fingers with yours now.

"Well, then I guess their juvenile plan worked," you traced the top of Enzo's hand with your thumb. When he tilted his head in slight confusion, you gave him a further explanation, "I fancy you too, silly."

Enzo's face made a small 'o' before a huge grin broke over his face, "Do you think that, erm, may then, ehm, you would like to go to Hogsmead with me this weekend?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "I would love to."

"Great, wonderful, fantastic. Okay well, erm, I'm going to, just, go tell the guys if that's okay?" He stood abruptly, making his chair squeak slightly and a few other students look your way.

He was much taller than you now, him standing and you sitting. You had to crane your neck to look up at him properly but you smiled, nodding your head to tell him it was okay to tell his friends.

"Okay, well I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Breakfast together?" he asked, you nodded again, then Enzo did something neither of you expected him to do. He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You knew your face turned red instantly, Enzo's turning a similar shade. As he walked out of the library, you made your way back to your friend.

"So are you and Enzo accompanying Blaise and I these weekend?" Luna asked without looking up from her studies.

"Yeah, yeah we are," you smiled to yourself, still unable to get your work done, but now for a perfectly acceptable reason.

[tiredfox64]

Since my identity as an anon have been exposed for that fic I did request,,,,

Can you make Pipsqueak pt. 2,,,,

*looks at u with my big eyes*

(I need to know the stupid shenanigans,,,,)

(Sorry got gay)

Little Bitty Pretty One

Yip notes: in my best Italian accent Don't say I neva did anything for ya. You are in debt to me.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: Haha you still small!

It seems when you need Liu Kang the most he is not there to answer. He could at least leave a message.

Well, you’re still small, unfortunately. Or maybe you like this situation. You’ve been stuck this way for two days now. Just as Bi-Han thought, you are incapable of doing many things. You’ve been depending on him for everything. You truly had no choice but to obey your grandmaster. Cause when you are the size of a Norway rat but lack the abilities of one your survivability is at a low possibility. So do him a favor and act good.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bi-Han tries his best not to wake you up in the morning. He’s been keeping you in his room so he can keep an eye on you and prevent you from getting hurt. He has to tiptoe around or else he will wake you up. Little does he know you’ve been waking up when he does because he always groans when he wakes up. What a loudmouth. You stir in your makeshift bed made of soft cloth material and a sponge before pretending to still be asleep. He doesn’t know that you like to peek at him when he is getting ready for the day. He doesn’t sleep with a shirt on…need I say more? It’s enjoyable to watch him tie his hair into a bun, he looks so pretty. But you can’t watch him change fully he puts a bowl over you to prevent you from seeing. No worries there are holes at the top to allow you to breathe. Alright, now he will wake you up.

He pokes your back viciously but not enough to possibly break your spine. You smack his finger which does nothing, go figures. Then he scolds you lightly for hitting your grandmaster. Again, he can’t yell or else he will risk bursting your eardrums.

Breakfast time! What do you want? Trick question, you have no choice. Whatever Bi-Han gives you is what you get. He purposely leaves some of the food big to make it seem like you are a rat nibbling on it. As he eats his breakfast he’ll occasionally look to his side to see you nibbling on a slice of carrot, your teeth leaving little marks. Now you’re whining, saying you need much more than that.

“You are acting very greedy. Have I not done enough for you already?” Bi-Han asked but you know he is being petty. When is he not.

Fine, he gave you a proper meal. Though the slice of cucumber he provided was still too big for you so you had to munch on it for a bit. He found it entertaining to see you stuff my cheeks full of food like a hamster. You did look silly that way. Especially with that glare you gave him.

Time for practice! Not for you, you’re too tiny for that. You’re gonna be staying in the palm of Bi-Han’s hand where he will proceed to pet your back with his finger. He starts from the top of your head before sliding down to your lower back. For some reason, you immediately relax when he does that. You fight a little because you know he likes finding people’s weak spots and exploiting them. But you stood little chance since even when you were big you still couldn’t fight him off. So you are forced to partake in this wonderful torment where he slowly watches you melt in his hands.

Bi-Han was so distracted by tormenting you he forgot to give orders to the rest of his clan. They waited with confused expressions. Kuai Liang had to tap on his brother to get his attention, only to be glared at by him as he quickly cupped you in his hands. He thought someone was trying to snatch you away from him. He can’t have that happening.

“What do you want, Kuai Liang?” he asked in annoyance.

Kuai Liang craned his neck in the direction of the clan to show that they were waiting. Bi-Han groaned as usual and gave them an order. Something mundane because he couldn’t care less in that moment. He was more preoccupied with you which you were trying to squeeze out of his hands again because you didn’t appreciate him leaving you in darkness.

Your little hands were trying to scratch their way between his fingers before he realized what you were doing. He uncapped his hands and you looked up at him like he just committed the ultimate betrayal.

“Don’t give me that face.”

He had you sit on his hand while looking out to the clan so you could watch them. His pointer finger and thumb were constantly squishing your face or rubbing below your chin. At this point anything he is doing to you is subconscious. He doesn’t know that he is doing it but it feels right to do, like twirling a pen while writing. It is necessary to squish something so small and fragile. You’re not having it. You’re out of here! Plan your escape!

You started walking on his arm, occasionally having to grab onto his arm guards to prevent yourself from plummeting to the ground. He sees your efforts and he does not like it. He tried to grab you but you kept swerving out of the way. Soon enough you were at his clothes and used them as a way to get down. You heard him saying words such as ‘stop’, ‘no’, and the occasional ‘obey your grandmaster’. You’re your own person, you can handle yourself! You can survive without your grandmaster’s assistance.

Never mind there was a giant golden orb weaver on the ground. It’s a female unfortunately so it’s humongous. You are not ready to handle that.

Bi-Han!!!

He froze the weaver in a matter of seconds before shattering it into millions of pieces. You were hugging his boot with your eyes closed, wondering if he demolished the arachnid. He picked you up by your uniform and you screamed thinking it was the spider before realizing it was Bi-Han.

“Will you listen to me now?” he asked with his usual grumpy tone.

“Yes, grandmaster.” You replied with your head lowered.

You obeyed him for the rest of the time, thank the elder gods. I would say that it made everything easier but you were still left being poked, petted, and squished by Bi-Han. At least when dinner time rolled around you were able to breathe. You got to munch on a nice, fat dumpling. Took a while before you got to the filling but it was so worth it when you did. That dinner could have knocked you out immediately after. You almost did but you were startled when Bi-Han picked you up and brought you to his office.

Escape plan part two!

Forget it, he already knew what you were planning. You tried to run around on his deck but he quickly pulled you back before placing you at one end of a hand towel. In one fell swoop he rolled you up like sushi. There, now you will stay in one place.

“Hey! You can’t do this! I’m a human being!” You yelled in a shrilled voice.

“A human being who drank a potion when I told you not to.” He got you there.

You could be angry all you want but you did get yourself into this mess. So just lay there and take your medicine.

You were forced to lay there silently as Bi-Han worked for about half an hour before the door opened. Finally, Liu Kang is here to help you. But for some reason, Bi-Han didn’t seem to be thrilled about this.

“I have been informed that there was a little incident,” Pun intended, “Let me assist in making things righ—oh.”

Liu Kang saw you wrapped in the hand towel with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. He gave a questioning look towards Bi-Han but at the same time, he could understand if your grandmaster had a hard time keeping you under control. Liu Kang had to hold himself back from chuckling as he reached towards you. He was going to unravel you to help get you back to normal but Bi-Han snatched you away. It nearly gave you whiplash.

“Bi-Han, I need them to get them back to normal.” Liu Kang informed him but Bi-Han walked out of the room with you in hand.

You were shouting at him and asking what he was doing and saying that this was what he wanted. You may think this whole situation was a hassle for Bi-Han. You would be slightly wrong. He finds this situation very entertaining and even, though he would never admit, adorable. It’s like having his own personal pet. A pet that has to depend on him because they don’t have any animal-like skills.

He will have you return back to normal one of these days. But this day won’t be it. Liu Kang was trying to get an answer from him but he wouldn’t say a word. He walked right into his bedroom, made a wall of ice to prevent anyone from getting in, and sat right on his bed.

He unraveled you before carefully placing you in your makeshift bed. He didn’t want you asking any more questions so he started to pet your back again. It’s too easy. With the food in your belly, the tight wrap from the towel, and the feeling of Bi-Han petting and rubbing your back you were out like a light. You were even drooling a little.

Bi-Han hasn’t felt this much joy from something in a long, long time. He wasn’t even allowed to have a pet when he was young. So let him enjoy this for a little longer then he will bring you back to normal.

But when you are back to normal you better not drink another strange potion he swears to the elder gods!

Now he can get ready for bed. He needs to mentally prepare himself for the next day. Who knows what you could do then.

Are you peeking at him taking his shirt off again? Turn your head! Damn rodent…

Yap notes: Last time I wrote for you that spine-eating goofball payed me a visit. He better not come around again just cause I did this for you. Also I hope you are feeling better I saw that you said you were sick get some Vic’s vaporub, ginger ale, and an egg to cleanse yourself. Adiós!

[archangeldyke-all]

could you please write vika with a reader who has a hard time gaining weight but needs to? maybe just taking care of them, scolding them, reassuring them, etc. it'd be really helpful.

(tw: ed, you don't need to include this) i've been doing my best to recover from being heavily underweight but it's frustrating because of the mindset and my body working against me, it makes me feel so desperate, so anything helps! feel absolutely free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable please, i won't mind 🫶🏻

of course!!

men and minors dni

when your doctors give sevika the go-ahead to start tracking your food and making sure you eat enough every day, she's thrilled.

your entire relationship, sevika's always wanted you to eat more. you're underweight, unhealthily so. she tried her best to get you to eat-- insisting you buy your favorites on date night in an attempt to get you to eat the whole plate, carrying snacks in her pockets to hand to you every hour or so-- but you'd usually just refuse her.

now though-- sevika's grinning evilly as she walks you back to the car from your doctor's office.

"what're you smiling about?" you ask, worried. sevika's usually so upset after your doctor's appointments-- worried about you.

sevika cackles. "your doctor just gave me the green light to give you the fuckin' royalty treatment babe." she says, grinning. you groan, and sevika starts to chuckle. "i'm talkin' breakfast in bed, every morning."

you snort, and sevika grins. "you think i'm joking-- but i'm not! you can't say no to treats anymore-- i'm gonna fuckin' spoil you!"

you just laugh, not knowing what you've gotten yourself into.

the next morning you're awaken to sevika entering the room with a full american breakfast. pancakes, hashbrowns, eggs and fruit-- it was all there. you cackle.

"there's no way i can eat all of that!"

sevika giggles and shrugs, climbing into bed next to you. "that's what i'm here for." she says.

and... surprisingly... you manage to eat a lot more food with sevika by your side, rubbing your back and hand-feeding you each bite, between her own bites.

and while the fanciness of your breakfasts vary-- it becomes a daily tradition in your house to eat breakfast in bed together.

(of course, sevika always complains when climbing in bed at night about the toast and cereal crumbs left behind in the sheets-- but that never stops her from bringing you a meal each morning.)

once she establishes one good, hearty meal in your day to day life, she takes it a step farther.

she learns to bake for you.

it's a lot of trial and error, but after a few burnt pastries, and one embarrassing call to the fire department, she managed to figure out the perfect cookies.

and every night before bed, sevika sits down beside you with a big glass of milk, and you guys snack on cookies before bed.

each week, she'll make a new batch. she loves to experiment with flavors, trying to find one that you'll love even more than last time. her favorite is snickerdoodle-- but she doesn't bake for herself. she bakes for you.

she starts offering you snacks more and more often.

sometimes, you take them without complaint.

but, sometimes everything catches up to you, and eating seems like the scariest thing in the world.

sevika sits with you, holding you the entire time as you cry and breathe through your anxiety, slowly stroking your back and kissing your head.

and then, whether it's ten minutes or two hours later-- sevika will sit beside you, kissing your head through each bite of your snack, praising you and thanking you for taking care of yourself.

"i want you around forever, baby. thank you for makin' it more likely." she whispers.

when you return to the doctor's one month later for a check-in-- sevika cries tears of joy when you step on the scale and have gained a dozen pounds or so.

she lets out a sweet sob of relief, right before she wraps her arms around your waist and spins you in a circle in the middle of the doctor's office. you squeal, and a bunch of nurses give you dirty looks, but this does nothing to keep sevika from pressing endless kisses on your head and face.

"oh, i'm so fuckin' proud of you, love." she whispers through her tears.

you get the same reaction in subsequent months, as your weight steadily, healthily climbs.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty @claude999

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hey I like your writing! I’d like to request headcanons if you are still taking them? I follow you on a separate account, so that’s why I had the courage to ask this with anonymous off.

I was thinking of the men competing for the reader? It would be like: Raiden/Kung Lao, Kenshi/Johnny, Lin Kuei brothers are each other’s rivals and they do their own things to one up each other or to gain the reader’s favor more 😆

author note: Don't worry! Anyway you don't need to follow me to request something!🫡

Raiden vs Kung Lao: -Ohhh the sparks. No way Raiden will back down, and Lao knows it. -The fight for your heart starts now. -Their approaches are different. Raiden is all soft words and quiet dates (masked as friendly outing). Raiden bets everything on his sweet personality because he thinks he doesn't look good enough for you. -Lao is all for showing off his physique. Biceps always exposed, smiling more than usual to show off the dimples you seem to like so much (and also because Lao is just happier when next to you). -He has no doubt you can fall just for his amazing personality too, but you know, since he has such a great physique, it would be stupid not to use it. -Lao is like a peacock showing off his round tail, hoping to impress you. -Raiden doesn't show off, but he'll always pay when he takes you out to eat or will make you win bets on purpose. -His proud smile makes your knees go jello. -They won't play dirty tricks to each other because, after all, they are friends! -The choice is yours!

Johnny vs Kenshi: -Master rizzer vs Secret rizzer. -Johnny knows about his friend's crush on you, but doesn't mind. No way his introvert friend can woo you! -What he doesn't count is that his friend is an ex-yakuza, and as one, had to seduce people and get into their pants to steal information more than once. -And Kenshi was always successful. -Johnny doesn't mind fighting for your love; he fully believes you'll reciprocate his crush! -He is all sweet smiles and warm eyes gazing into yours. Johnny tries to show off every time you are near him. -Johnny asks you out daily, and sometimes you accept. His smile on those occasions could light up an entire mansion. -He acts like a big lazy cat. If you compliment him back, you can hear a purr blossoming from Johnny's chest. -Everyone can tell that he is wrapped around your fingers. -Kenshi is way more subtle but much more intense. -He'd share a meal with you under a blossoming tree in complete silence. -"I love spring. The flowers on the trees are beautiful." Kenshi would chuckle at your words. Then he'll grip your chin, his hand going so smoothly on it you almost forgot he is blind. "I'm sure it's a way to thank you for blessing them with your beauty every day." Kenshi says it so naturally that you believe him. No comeback goes through your brain. -He is gonna use all his knowledge to woo you. -He is there for you, but never clingy. Kenshi is all subtle touches that leave you hanging. You need to miss him. -Also more prone to talk down Johnny. Kenshi is a man with a mission and needs to brush away all the obstacles to reach his goal. -The tomcat or the sneaky ninja? Okay, maybe the comparison doesn't sound fair… -Welp! It's your choice!

Bi-Han vs Kuai Liang vs Tomas Vrbada: -Mortal Kombat begins now! With the difference that, this is really mortal. -Every day is a brawl. They try to bring the other down all the time. -When Liang thought he had to win just against Tomas, he was quieter. He still wants to conquer your heart, but he doesn't try to bring his brother down. -The same could be said of Tomas. He wants to win your heart fair and square, not spreading lies about his rival and brother. Simply making you fall for him. -But when they noticed how Bi-Han looks at you… -They both look at each other in the eyes, and realisation hit them both like a brick. -Bi-Han really doesn't care about them and will also try to brush his crush for you off. He is grandmaster he doesn't have time for foolish stuff like love. -But when Bi-Han noticed his brothers crush for you… now he absolutely wants you. -Oh, Liang stood you up? "Damn, I'm so sorry. Come with me! I'll pay for everything you want at Madame Bo!" Tomas replies, voice thrilling full of happiness. -If only you knew that Liang didn't arrive because somebody trapped him in the woods. -Tomas forgot about your birthday. "That fool only cares for himself. Take this. My gift for you." Bi-Han pushes it toward your chest, fake indifference dripping from his gestures. The "By Tomas" note carefully replaced with "By Bi-Han". -That ass of Bi-Han froze the walls of your house? Don't worry, dear Liang will help you out warming the house up. And if you don't mind, he'll embrace you "So at least you can warm up." His handsome face dangerously close to yours. -If only you knew Bi-Han and Liang bickered before and the pyromancer made sure for Bi-Han's attack to hit exactly your house… -They are like beasts always going at each other thorats. Sadly, this make them all grumpier. -If they keep going like this, you won't end up with either of them. -But if you are interested, move fast! Or the world will have fewer ninjas soon…

[torchflies]

Hi TG Fandom! 

I love giving Hangman a difficult family life, sometimes for more reasons than one. 😅🫡

Jake doesn't marry Bradley because of his family. He breaks up with the only boy he's ever really loved because he loves him enough to understand that they will be dragged into The Life, in one way or another. He doesn't want that for Bradley. 

When Giacomo Ferretti Jr, called Jake by his friends at school and Buddy by his family, was a little boy — he didn't know any better. He was a surprise baby, born ten years after the last of his six brothers; ten years after they stopped trying. So, when he was born, they gave him his father’s name and called him Little Buddy instead. 

He thought they were a normal family when he was small, that every father had a job he didn't like to talk about and that everyone’s big brothers started to go off with their father on special trips when they got big enough. He thought everyone’s father had a band of close friends who were like honorary uncles to their children, shepherding them to school and the park with a scowl on their face and a gun on their hip, hidden by their leather jacket. That everyone’s father had friends who would appear at the kitchen table in the middle of the night, blood soaking through their shirts like deepening sauce stains from dinner. 

“Buddy!” One of his uncles, Tommy, orders him. “Get a kit from under your Mama’s sink!” 

It’s the first night that Jake plays Patch-Up, but it’s far from the last. He gets his undergraduate degree in Human Physiology and becomes an EMT, long before he joins The Navy. If only to be of greater help to the soldiers he puts back together on the table where he eats his meals. 

It’s only when he's a teenager that his long-grown brothers sit him down and explain, properly explain, the rules of The Life. The one that they were all born into, but that they chose and the one that nobody wants him to join. 

“You don't need to be a part of this,” His oldest brother Enzo tells him, eyes turned hard. “Pop will keep you out of this and when Pop goes, I will. You understand?” 

Jake nods and they take him to the airport the very next day. 

Still, The Life is always there. It doesn't matter that he changes his name, or that he's a decorated naval aviator now; he will always be the Godfather of New Jersey’s youngest child, a massive target. 

Bradley doesn't deserve that life; that constant worry that someone will find out, that someone will break the laws that govern The Life and attack/hurt someone who isn't in it. 

So Jake never tells him, he just runs away. 

It’s what he's always been the best at, after all. 

[hollyhomburg]

I haven’t had an idea about hybrids in a long long time but 🥺 what about pup hybrid koo who gets abandoned by his owners for being too high energy, who waits by the door every day for them to come back, doesn’t like to talk to other humans because they’re not his owner but then slowly, the volunteer who comes into his room to talk to him every day and eat his meals with him and feed him treats starts to chip away at his heart and adopts him.

only to have him wake up Literally lying on top of them, deal with him breaking out of the house and following them to work, everywhere- jk is just so worried about being left behind again but! It’s a good thing his owner is really understanding and doesn’t mind that he’s a clingy little puppy.

And of course Doberman! jk is also still covered with tattoos just like irl jk 🥺 big floppy ears hanging over his face, the breed and tattoos usually turn people off from adopting him because Dobermans you know- they’re /protection/ dogs, they don’t see jks wide terrified eyes hidden behind his big ears. They just see the tattoos and piercings and walk the other way. Im imagining the first time jk ever falls asleep on the m/c, head on her lap, her fingers rubbing against the spot on the back of them where they’re sensitive and tingly saying to herself “at least he didn’t doc your ears, I would have expected- given the other /modifications/ he made to you, that he’d have done that. At least he had the decency to leave them alone”

And she asks cuz of course she does, why jks old owner covered him with tattoo’s and maybe she should have waited until he was more awake but jk just says “liked to come with hyung to work, saved his best designs for me”

Maybe years later they have a run in with Jks old owner and it’s one of the other boys, tattoo artist yoongi maybe? but 🥺 jk finally gets his closure because he finds out yoongi didn’t abandon him he just got into an accident and was in a coma for 6 months and then had 18 months of re-learning how to walk after that. How to do art, how to tattoo again and yoongis finally back on his feet. Even when he was in a wheelchair yoongi never stopped going to different shelters to try and find Jk. Yoongi never gave up looking for his pup 🥺

Imagine tattoo artist yoongi with arms full of pretty floral tattoos in the same style as the ones on jk’s arm 🥺 and the m/c once again questions him about it and jk gives her the honest answer of “I asked for them”

Maybe jk is now faced with the horrible choice of being the one who leaves his new owner who he loves a lot and going back to the person who he once missed more than anything! Of course his little pup brain just comes up with the simple solution! They both just have to move in together to look after him! That way he gets both!! And only- the m/c and yoongi are really opposites- but they decide to try and make being roommates work if only because jk deserves it.

And maybe yoongi starts taking care of her too because he always did let jungkook depend on him lots 🥺 for cooking and brushing out his long fluffy hair and showers after boxing class. And yoongi fusses because around her work schedule she forgets to eat a bunch and he ends up going to drop off lunches because honestly- the tatto shop kinda runs it’s self since namjoon and taehyung took over during yoongis accident- they never met jk because they only bought into the business after yoongis accident when he had to sell off half of it to cover his medical bills (I’m picturing calico mini- a new addition, who took over jks job of checking people in for their appointments and answering the phone)

But anyway back to yoongi and his babying It’s natural for him to say “up!” To her (a total accident he swears) when she’s wearing a soaked shirt after coming in from the rain, blushing hard, but kinda grinning when she follows obediently. Because jk always liked it when yoongi would dress him 🥺 hyungs perfect little puppy doll all pliant and good. And it would be okay if only she didn’t slip up too! Accidentally calling yoongi a good boy on more than one occasion or going in for a “good pup kiss” cuz jk is like- kinda a kissy puppy, likes good morning kisses and thank you for putting your dishes away and “I missed you cuz you just peed kisses and I was worried a monster was gonna eat you in the bathroom” kisses. Jk has them both very well trained.

Of course he’d tease her endlessly for that. “Maybe we should get you a pair of puppy ears for Halloween if you’re gonna listen to me the way that jk does” “yeah? I’ll get you a pair of kitty ears and tatto whiskers on you in your sleep” only what if one day yoongi reveals he actually does have whisker tattoos they’re just black light 😭

Only why don’t they kiss each other the way they give him good boy kisses 🥺 why don’t they cuddle each other like they cuddle him??? Why don’t they good hands the way they hold hands with him when he goes out so that they don’t get lost! Jk has to remedy this right away 😠 he can’t loose either of them ever again so he’s gotta set them up!!!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I love love your writing lovely!! Seriously are amazing!

I am on my hands and knees for some slow soft sensual sexy time with iii, only if you feel up to it of course! Let’s say he’s come home from tour and just wants to savour every bit of you and show you how much he missed you 🥺

Tysm sending hugs and hope you’re doing well! 🌸💗

Crumpled bedsheets

First of all, what good have I done to this earth to deserve a request from you, a queen of st stories herself. I can only wish to satisfy. Second of all, I think i blacked out writing this cause this is iii and my brain usually short circuits when it CUMs to him… ehem… enjoy.

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“Just landed”, read the latest text between you two, causing the biggest smile to spread across your lips. A smile that hasn’t left your face ever since. You had been restless for the past couple of days. Just the thought alone of finally getting to see your boyfriend was enough to keep you up all night. You both haven’t been apart for so long before. So the past month and a half had been torture. The bed felt empty without iii’s long limbs occupying most of it. It was too quiet. No one was strumming mindlessly on the sofa. No one was obnoxiously clacking pots and pans in the morning.

You had busied yourself with cleaning all morning. Changing the sheets. Fluffing the pillows. Tackling the last bits of laundry. Anything to keep you away from just sitting by the door. You even wiped up his favorite roast. More than sure that he had missed proper home-cooked meals. If you had a car you had probably driven to the airport yourself. Desperate. You were desperate to finally see him. Feeling slightly dazed by the level of both anxiety and excitement swirling in your body.

Your whole body stiffened when you heard the familiar jingle of the keys. A loud thud following suit as his bag hit the floor in the entrance room. Your body was drumming with anticipation yet you couldn’t seem to move. Not until your legs suddenly took off towards him. You barely caught a glimpse of his shit-eating grin as you rounded the corner. “Here you are, got me worried for a moment, thought that you packed up and…”, but iii’s words are cut off by you practically jumping into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck as you let yourself breathe him in. One of his arms wraps around your middle while he aimlessly runs his free hand up and down your thigh, before giving your bum a playful squeeze, “Missed me much?”, he muses, even if his own heart is threatening to leap out of his chest.

You pull back, eyes glazed with tears, “You tell me”, you crock out before cupping his face between your palms. “Don’t cry, baby, you got me back home, there’s no need for tears now”, he brushes his nose against you before leaning in to kiss you. It genuinely feels as if someone finally remembered to plug you into the electricity socket. As if you had been running on empty all this time and now, finally, you were catching a glimpses of feeling whole again.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss, wrapping your legs even tighter around him. iii moans against you, kneading your ass. “Wine and dine me first, geez”, he pulls away breathlessly, before leaning into you to bite your bottom lip. “Shut up and get your pants off”, you grunt, pulling at the white shirt he’s wearing. A low laugh slips past his lips, “It’s starting to look as if what you missed most is my dick not me”, with one raised eyebrow he watches you halt before your eyes meet his. A mischievous smirk paints your face, “Oh, sorry, you thought I missed you?”, emphasizing the you part you tilt your head to the side, biting your lip. “Careful, baby, mighty thin ice you are walking on”, iii lets out a deep groan as you chuckle to yourself leaning in to brush your lips over his, “Just want to feel you closer, this doesn’t feel real”, you mutter, nuzzling into his neck once again. “Does this feel more real?”, his big palms push you closer to him. Making sure that you are rubbing right against the fully erect bulge in his pants. The sensation after weeks of mediocre orgasms is enough to send a shiver down your body. “Fuck, iii”, you moan, already feeling the wetness soaking your thong. “I intend to fuck you, trust me”, he grunts, “The thought of coming home to you alone had me hard the past couple of days”. There’s something both sweet and so sensual about his words. The knowledge of being able to affect him even when you are apart.

Knowing the apartment like the back of his hand, iii steps through the corridor, lips still linked with yours as he pushes the door leading to the bedroom with a firm kick. His hands reach for the hem of the shirt, pulling it over your head only for a sea of curses to follow suit. His hands reach out, pushing your breasts together as he flicks his fingers over the slowly hardening nipples beneath the mesh material. “Fucking hell, I missed you”, iii mutters, leaning in, biting at the swell of your breast before nuzzling against your chest. “Me or the titts?”, you throw his own words at him, making him chuckle, “Don’t be a hypocrite now”, he shakes his head.

“That’s my favorite bra”, in any other scenario being gawked on like that would make you want to hide. Curl into yourself. But not here. Not with iii. Whose eyes are practically black with lust as he takes his time, massaging each of your breasts between his fingers.

“I know”, you breathe out, pushing his head only further into your chest. And then his movements halt. Only for a moment but he stops. As if finally realizing that he is back. He is home. That you’re in his arms. His piercing blue eyes look up at you. “I fucking love you”, iii states pushing upwards to kiss you one more time, “You have no idea just how much I missed you”. Your fingers slip to the back of his neck, pulling him face-to-face with you. You know that he can see the same emotions in your eyes. So you don’t feel a single ounce of guilt as you mutter, “Say that while thrusting into me”. A growl-like sound slipped from the depths of his throat, “Bloody hell, you will make me bust a nut before I’m even inside you”, “Then talk less and thrust more”, you grunt, pulling at his sweatpants, letting your fingers slip between the waistband of his boxers.

“Fuck”, “Shit”, you both moan in unison from the touch alone. You could feel the precum dripping all over the hardness of him and he’s just so touch-starved at this point that the feeling of your fingers alone make his thighs shake. “Spread your legs”, he breathes against your neck and you waste no time following his wish. He pulls back for a heartbeat. Yanking his t-shirt over his head with one hand before dropping back down to kiss you. Letting his lips trail down your neck, reaching the valley of your breast before kissing each of your nipples over the mesh cup of your bra and only then moving swiftly to unhook it. The feeling of his stubble against your sensitive peaks making you arch against him.

“Fuck me already”, you cry out in frustration, trying to find friction between you both. “Let me worship you first”, his firm palm slowly itches between your thighs. A loud moan slips past your lips when he finally presses his thumb against your clit. You bite the inside of your cheek when he lazily circles it, putting just the right amount of pressure, making you grind into his palm, “Don’t hold back, I want to hear you”, he urges, leaning in to kiss the inside of your thigh before his lips hovers dangerously close to your heat. “iii, please, don’t play games, baby”, you whine, watching him watch you before he dives in, pressing a kiss to the center of your wetness before his teeth pull the soaked material of your thong off your body. “Shit, fuck me”, a breath hitches in your throat as you watch his movements. The way his eyes never leave you till the skimpy material is in his hands, carelessly being tossed to the side. iii stops to kiss the inside of your ankle, leaving a trail of kisses back to your core. And you know what he’s after. The way he licks his lips speaks volumes but you catch the side of his face, “Dick”, you grunt, “you can eat me out later”, it’s pathetic almost how you tremble at the thought alone. He doesn’t argue to your surprise. His big frame hovers over you as he pushes your legs apart for his likeing. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”, he hums, the very tip of his dick brushing over your folds, as he coats himself in your arousal. “iii”, you whimper, hands running down his chest. “Do you think you can still take me after six weeks apart, mhh?”, he nudges the very tip inside you making you melt in a deliciously warm feeling that spreads all over you. “Yes”, you nod eagerly, “All of it”, you mutter. “Really?”, iii muses, “Let’s see”, his hand reaches out to squeeze your throat as his eyes lock onto you. “Eye on me at all times”, he whispers against your lips before snapping his hips upwards, making you both cry out in pleasure. “Relax”, iii grunts, reaching out to pull one of your legs more to the side, “I can barely move when you’re squeezing me so tight, fuck”. Your hands grasp at his back as the feeling of that aching fullness fills your senses. “You’re so fucking big”, you mewl when he withdraws with a chuckle before thrusting back in, this time with much more force. “Fuck you feel…”, his head falls onto your shoulder when he finally nearly bottoms out inside you. “Baby”, you cry out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing him even deeper into your heat.

He slowly sets a steady pace. One that is enough to make your head spin. The sound of the headboard hitting against the wall and grunt after grunt filling the room. All this time his hands are there, guiding your hips onto his dick as he chased both of your releases. “So good”, you mutter, “just… there”, your head fell back onto the pillow when iii nudged just the right spot deep within you. “Like this?”, his eyes watch your agape mouth as you silently drown in ecstasy of one another. No words. No nods are needed.

His fingers slip between you both, lazily flicking your clit. “Fuck… fuck, iii, fu…”, you cry out for him once more before reaching for the back of his neck as you pull him closer, crashing your lips into his. The kiss drowning out the pleasure that shoots through your body. iii pulls away with a growl, throwing his head back as you feel him swell and twitch within your walls. “Love”, he muses, leaning in, swirling his tongue around your nipple, making you clench around him. Finally making you pull him over the edge. His grip on you tightens as his release chases right after yours. The slow thrust still making you both shiver with the last drops of orgasm.

Burying himself balls deep, iii stops, letting himself melt into the warmth of your body. You can feel his heart beating fast. Matching your own. Both breathing raggedly. He lifts back onto his elbows after a while, dazed eyes watching you sprawled on the sheets in front of him. “That’s one hell of a way to welcome me home”, iii muse, pressing his lips against yours, you just shoot him a smile. Too content to break the blissful daze. He moves to pull out only to be met with the iron grip of your thighs around his torso. “Baby…”, he grunts and you can feel him slowly hardening inside you once more. “Stay”, you muse, “Just till we go again”, “Again?”, iii raises his eyebrows at you, “Already?” You blink up at him innocently, “Afraid you can’t get it back up?”, you tease, earning yourself a harsh thrust as he yanks you onto his dick with both hands on your hips, “Oh, I can get it up just fine, you should be worried about getting up after, baby”.