#been either overindulging in food or just not eating at all with no in between | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angstyaches · 1 year ago

Note

i’ve been thinking about a halloween prompt for donnacha because i’m so incredibly obsessed with his and henry’s relationship dynamic.

i know you’re not big into overeating, so you know how when you don’t eat, you eventually start to get a little woozy and gross feeling? donnacha hasn’t eaten in hours cause he’s been busy running last minute halloween errands (can you get more candy? we have to have this very specific sweet! that place was out? oh no! can you try here?!) for everyone and he’s starving by the time he gets home.

he’s staying in with henry this year because he doesn’t like going out and hen doesn’t really go out anymore either. plus, donnacha doesn’t want to see a repeat of last year where he walked in on henry anxiety puking on the bathroom floor after snapping at lucy. so he beats a hasty retreat to henry’s room to get away from the mayhem happening in the shared space after he gives everyone their stuff, and he’s got a bag of his favourite junk food with him that he starts to munch on while he jabbers on to henry about his day. everything is going great!

only… his belly isn’t really liking all the sugar and it isn’t really helping his headache go away and he’s getting quieter and quieter until henry finally asks him what’s wrong.

-🐭

Yes, it's December 2nd, and yes, I know this is late.

Thank you so much for this lovely, detailed, thoughtful request, anony 🐭, I appreciate you so much and I hope you're well.

I've had this draft for so long and I'm a bit tipsy right now as I'm posting it, so I'm sorry if there are typos/inconsistencies, or if it just straight up isn't good 👍

CW: overthinking, stomach pain, mention of cheating, mention of breakup, overindulgence (sugar), mention of chronic pain, platonic caretaking.

Word Count: 4,200+

___

Donnacha barely had a second to breathe as he stepped through the door, before he was being beckoned through to the living area by someone who didn’t even live here.

Autumn was dressed as Belle from Beauty and the Beast; her outfit was casual, nothing extravagant like the yellow ball gown from the movie, but he could tell that was who she was. He felt a pang of recognition at the lace detail on the collar of her yellow blouse. Had she worn that on a date once? Had he been with her when she’d bought it? A second pang, this one tinged with loss.

It still sent him reeling, sometimes, that she wasn’t his, and he wasn’t hers.

“What is it?”

“Get in here.”

Donnacha sighed. He’d been running on empty all afternoon, actively ignoring the rumbling in his stomach and the tension in his brain for hours now. Now that he was home, he felt like wilting.

He blinked in bewilderment as he stepped into the living area. Lucy had been stringing up Halloween decorations since halfway through September, but she’d really doubled down at some point since he’d left this morning. He could barely see the mouldings for the amount of fake cobweb and crepe paper streamers filling the corners and tapering off across the ceiling.

But it was the unfamiliar faces that really threw him.

“Donnacha, this is Dixon,” Autumn said, gesturing towards the Asian guy dressed as Legolas from Lord of the Rings, and then to the dark-skinned girl in the ladybird costume. They were both sitting on the couch, flanked by a seated Claudette on one side and by Autumn standing at the other. “And this is Leigh. We’re in the musical together. Guys, this is Donnacha, my –”

She didn’t falter as she spoke, but in between her words, Donnacha’s heart did a sickening flip. Was she about to bring up the fact that they were exes? He wasn’t sure he was comfortable advertising that with these people he didn’t know –

“Oldest friend,” Autumn finished.

Donnacha let go of a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “I mean, I’m not that old.” He smiled; both Dixon and Leigh had beautiful smiles, so it would have been a little difficult not to. “Great to meet you both.”

“You, too,” they practically said in unison, which led to Leigh curling her lip and softly backhanding Dixon’s leg. Next to Dixon’s knee, there was a glossy pride pin that caught Donnacha’s attention. It was attached to the strap of a side bag that he was holding firmly in his lap.

Donnacha breath caught in his throat as he thought about the flat cardboard packet that was currently sitting in the top drawer of his bedside table. Inside, still wrapped in plastic, was a bisexual flag pin. He’d been a little drunk and dizzy when he’d ordered on Etsy, and it’d seemed like a great idea at the time. He’d even smiled proudly to himself when it had arrived, but as soon as he’d started opening the package, as soon as he’d started thinking about actually wearing the pin, a pain had bloomed in the pit of his stomach. It just seemed as though advertising his identity was unnecessary. Maybe dangerous. Undoubtedly more trouble than it was worth.

He understood it now, though; he felt himself wanting to be seen, to be recognised, like Dixon.

Shit, he thought. Maybe he should have mentioned his pronouns after Autumn had introduced him –

It was too late now, because Lucy was scampering up to him, hands outstretched. “Thanks, hon.”

She relieved him of the shopping bags that had been testing the limits of his shoulder sockets for the past hour. He smiled at her tiredly and looked at her skinny denim jeans and plaid shirt, wondering if she hadn’t gotten changed yet, or had poured so much Halloween spirit into decorating the flat that she had none left to fuel a costume.

“You kept the receipts, right? I’ll pay you back tomorrow afternoon,” Lucy said.

“What are you dressing up as tonight?” Claudette asked from the other end of the sofa. Donnacha realised she was addressing him. Their eyes were pinned on Donnacha’s face over the rim of their cup. Autumn had promised – of her own volition – that she would never tell anybody that Donnacha had kissed someone else during their relationship, but he could never quite shake the feeling that Claudette knew something more than they let on.

“Eh, nothing.” Donnacha shook his head. “I’m… I’m actually not coming out tonight.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Autumn looked genuinely crestfallen, which gave Donnacha yet another strange pang in the centre of his chest. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he boxed it up, tucked it away in the back of his mind, and tried to stop thinking about it.

“Jesus, Donnacha!” Lucy called out from behind him. She’d propped the bags on the edge of the coffee table and was fishing things out, one by one. “You let us boss you around on the phone all day, and you’re not even partying with us? Why didn’t you say something!”

“Lu, it’s grand, seriously,” Donnacha smiled. He edged a little closer to her as some familiar packaging caught his eye. He’d almost forgotten that he’d grabbed something just for himself amidst all of the bossing around. “These are for me,” he chuckled sheepishly, reaching for the packets.

Lucy just nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, fair enough.”

“Anyway, I’d already promised I’d drive to the shops before this other plan came up…”

“Ooh-ooh, other plan?” Lucy lowered her voice, though everybody could still hear her, clear as day. “A hot date?”

“Oh, yeah.” Donnacha smirked. “I’ve got a date with this floppy-haired lad who works in web design and never leaves his bedroom.”

As soon as he made the joke, he wanted to snatch it out of the air and swallow it back down. It had somehow sounded like an unnecessary dig at his friend, and implied that it really was a date. How the hell had that happened?

“No – I just… Me and Henry, we’re just gonna watch a movie and hang out. You know, after what happened last year, I didn’t think it’d be good for him to be, you know, overwhelmed…” Donnacha couldn’t believe it was his own mouth that was saying these things. Nobody needed him throwing about reminders of Henry’s meltdown last Halloween, least of all Henry himself.

Autumn gave one of her politest smiles and turned to say something off-topic to Leigh. Claudette was still eyeing Donnacha with a curiosity that bordered on disgust. Even Lucy didn’t seem to know what to say, which was never a good sign.

Donnacha frowned, irritated. He’d spent all afternoon hunting down everybody’s requests for the Halloween party, edging through traffic jams, bothering staff members about their stock. He hadn’t expected to be hoisted up onto anyone’s shoulders like he’d scored a winning try, but shouldn’t he at least be allowed to be himself?

He pushed that feeling aside, packing it up alongside his confusing feelings about Autumn, and his reluctance about his identity, and his nervousness about Claudette, and his guilt about Henry.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his stomach, which delivered to him a nasty twinge to remind him that the last thing he’d eaten had been a pathetically small, dry article that had barely passed for a blueberry muffin at 10am. The packaging of his chocolate bars crinkled in his other hand, and he couldn’t help eyeing the half-empty plates that were scattered throughout the room, holding mini spring rolls and spicy wedges and breaded cheese sticks.

“There any food left?” he asked, feeling oddly grateful for the opportunity to change the subject.

“Yeah, lots.” Payton.

Donnacha turned around.

They were sitting at the dining table, and had been quiet and staring at their phone since Donnacha had come in. They were wearing a navy jacket and had curled the front of their hair, but Donnacha didn’t care to contemplate their appearance any further.

They half-smiled at him and nodded towards the kitchen. “Help yourself.”

Help yourself. Of course, Payton would know all about helping themself, since they’d helped themself to Autumn less than a fortnight after the break-up –

“Thanks,” Donnacha said, making a beeline for the kitchen.

Everything edible was spread out on baking trays and was dried out from the oven and cold from sitting out too long. It was hardly an appetising site, especially while Donnacha was already thinking about tearing into his Macaroon bars. He’d been hit with a wave of nostalgia when he’d spotted them on his hunt for Lucy’s obscure requests, and he’d bought them thinking they would be his desserts for the next few weeks, but who was going to stop him from making them into his dinner tonight?

His stomach gurgled quietly beneath his hoodie. On top of the sharp hunger pains, it felt knotted with tension. He couldn’t believe how easily he forgot how skipping meals affected him, making him shaky and emotional. It’d been a mistake to let it get this bad.

After tossing a small handful of wedges and some ketchup onto a plate, Donnacha tucked his chocolates under his arm and swept through the living area one more time.

“Happy Halloween, have a good night,” he smiled, and he didn’t stop to let anyone’s expression or response sink in.

___

“Oh,” Donnacha deadpanned, “you’re working?”

Henry didn’t turn around at first, and Donnacha realised it was because he had his noise-cancelling headphones on. He must have seen the light from the hallway reflected in the computer screen though, because the further Donnacha pushed the door open, the more Henry’s attention seemed to twitch away from his work.

He took off the headphones and swung his chair into a half-turn. “You’re late.”

That face was a relief to lay eyes upon. Henry had washed his hair, there was some colour in his cheeks, and the circles under his eyes were barely a smudge. His eyebrows were scrunched up in a frown, but that was hardly unusual, and Donnacha knew that Henry could be frowning himself into a knot and still be genuinely content.

He didn’t understand it, but he knew it.

“Did you say something, by the way?”

“Yeah.” Donnacha tossed his Macaroon bars onto Henry’s bed. He sat down on the mattress, his plate of wedges on his lap. “I was trying to ask what you’re playing at. Working? I thought we were watching a film.”

Henry’s mouth slid into a thin, stretched line, his expression taut with unvoiced laughter.

“What?” Donnacha asked. He thought for a second about what he’d just said, popping a mini spring roll in his mouth and crunching down on it. Then he sighed, replaying in his head what he’d previously said, hearing it through Henry’s ears. “Seriously? Fil-um?”

Henry cracked a smirk.

Donnacha pointed at Henry’s computer screen. “Switch that off.”

“I want to finish what I’m working on.” Henry held up his hands, pre-emptively stopping Donnacha from protesting. “This is on you. I had to start something to occupy myself, and now I have to finish it. You were very late.”

“Yeah, I’m extremely aware. Bloody starving as well,” Donnacha said over a grumble in his stomach, dipping a cold potato wedge into the little pool of ketchup on the side of his plate. “So, are we not actually watching this movie anymore?”

“Of course.” There was no little amount of judgement in Henry’s gaze as he adjusted the bridge of his glasses. “I still can’t believe you’ve never seen The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

Donnacha chewed without much relish. He took in, for the first time since entering, what Henry was wearing. “I still can’t believe you own a... baby-grow.”

Henry glanced down at his orange one-piece pyjama set. “It’s a onesie.”

“Same thing.”

Henry held eye contact with him for a few seconds as he pulled the hood of the onesie up over the top of his head. A Jack O’Lantern face was stitched into the hood, and a little green stalk sat at the crown of Henry’s head. “It was a birthday gift from Lucy.”

“Was it? All she gave me for my birthday was scratch cards.”

“Try being her friend for ten years.”

Eyeing the pumpkin pyjamas one last time, Donnacha shook his head. “You know, I think I’m good.”

“Mmhmm,” Henry grunted. Hood still pulled up, his attention had already been drawn back to his computer screen.

Donnacha let him work in silence for a couple of minutes, slowly chewing his way through his pile of wedges, but eyeing his chocolate bars with much more enthusiasm. He hadn’t had a lot to eat yet, but having calories inside of him had improved his mood drastically.

Licking a smear of ketchup from his thumb, he glanced up at Henry. “Did you get some food?”

Without tearing his eyes away from his work, Henry pulled his hunched shoulders further back into his chair, unblocking Donnacha’s view of a paper bag that sat next to his keyboard. “I secretly ordered Thai noodles while I was waiting for you. You were very –”

“Very, very, very, extremely late,” Donnacha finished for him. It brought a smile to his face, to picture Henry in his pumpkin onesie, creeping down the hallway to collect his food at the front door without alerting anybody else in the apartment.

“I have some leftovers, if you’d like to warm them up.”

“Nah. Thanks.” Donnacha reached over to put his half-full plate on Henry’s nightstand. The scratching sound of ceramic on wood made Henry’s gaze jerk to the side.

“Hmm. Thought you were starving?”

“I am.” Donnacha rubbed his palms together.

“Then, what are you going to… What are those?”

Donnacha grinned broadly as he tore open the first packet, and the wrapped chocolate bars fell onto the bedspread. He felt a spark of pride upon seeing Henry half-turn his chair again. “Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t know what these are.”

Henry’s head bobbed from side to side.

“They’re Macaroons!” Donnacha exclaimed. ��They’re a classic. Don’t tell me you never had these as a child?”

“My mother didn’t care much for sweets.” Henry touched the bridge of his glasses again.

“Want to try one?”

Henry shook his head. “I’m full.”

“Alright, but you’re missing out.” Donnacha picked up one of the bars and laid it to the side. “Know what, I’ll save you one.”

“Save me one?” Henry’s voice rose. “How many are you planning to eat?”

“Never you mind!” Donnacha waved a hand towards Henry’s computer before his fingers began wrestling open the wrapper on the bar. “Don’t you have graphics to design, or something?”

“I do.”

The first mouthful of the bar seemed to melt away on his tongue, but after the second, Donnacha began to feel the warm, giddy sensation of sugar settling in his belly. Mentally, he was right back in his hometown – or rather, the closest village to the remote area where his father’s farm was located – surrounded by crumbling stone walls and single-lane roads and the smell of vegetation.

Donnacha happily burned his way through three more of the bars, and was fishing the next one out of the packet when he let out an involuntary sound that Henry clearly found distracting. “Mmm.”

“Enjoying yourself,” Henry observed. Maybe it had been intended as a question, but there was no doubt in his voice.

Donnacha shook his head in a way that meant yes. “You have your cartoons and your old films, Hen –”

“Fil-ums,” Henry repeated incredulously under his breath. Every time, he acted as though it was his first time hearing Donnacha pronouncing that specific word in that specific way.

“But this – this right here –” Donnacha flattened the empty wrapper between his thumbs and stretched it tight, so that the words lay flat and the pattern unrumpled. “This is pure childhood joy for me.”

Henry’s desk chair creaked as Henry shifted his weight, bracing his hands on the armrests. He looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Donnacha was about to ask him if something hurt, but was cut off.

“You had those a lot,” Henry asked, “as a kid?”

“Every weekend, after mass,” Donnacha nodded, chewing quickly so he could swallow. “Da’d stay at the church because he’d be talking to the priest, and Mammy had this group of friends who would stand and smoke just down the road, and they’d – they’d give me and Aoife some pocket money, and…”

He took a break to swallow again, saliva filling his mouth as the sweet aftertaste lingered.

“And the two of us, we’d hightail it down the road, to the corner shop,” he said. “The shop owner was called Mrs. Breathnach, and she always took her time coming down to open up after mass, but me and Aoife were always the first ones waiting for her, and she used to know our favourites off by heart, so she’d be unlocking the shop and rattling off, ‘a Dip Dab for Aoife Ní Mhurchú, a Macaroon for Donnacha Ó Murchú, and one carton of milk’. Mammy always got us to pick up the milk as well, so there’d be milk for Sunday tea…”

He was quickly realising that there was no satisfying end to this story, no way for him to whip up the words to properly convey why these were such important memories.

Henry had stopped working altogether and was looking at him from the desk chair. His dull green eyes were unreadable as always behind his glasses, especially in the low lighting and with the computer screen glare reflected in the lenses.

“Sorry.” Donnacha swallowed again, realising his cheeks were burning and his stomach was doing flips. He took a bite of chocolate. “I’m rambling like my Uncle Seán at Christmas dinner.”

“It’s okay –”

Donnacha gestured towards the computer screen. “Do you not need to get your work done, so we can watch this movie?”

Henry was silent for a couple of seconds. Donnacha genuinely didn’t feel like chatting anymore, and he was really hoping that Henry wouldn’t push the subject. But he thankfully turned his chair back towards the desk and took the computer mouse in his hand.

After a little while, Henry reached for the chocolate bar that Donnacha had placed aside for him. He undid the wrapping so that there were no tears down the side, no damage done to the text or the design. His careful precision brought a private smile to Donnacha’s face.

“Want to finish it?” Henry asked after eating the quarter that he’d broken off.

“Aw. Do you not like it?”

“It’s nice,” Henry said, “but I’m still full from dinner.”

Donnacha pressed his lips together as he eyed the chocolate in Henry’s hand. His throat was dry, and his stomach was now pulsing with pain. “Wrap it back up. Have it later.”

Once again, he expected Henry to refuse, especially since he didn’t seem overly enamoured with the bar in the first place, but thankfully he nodded and folded the wrapper down over the open side. He went back to tapping away with his computer mouse.

Donnacha sank back a little on the bed, trying to find a comfier position that didn’t place too much pressure on his stomach. He started to reach for another chocolate bar but stopped himself.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Henry remarked after a notable amount of time had passed. “What’s wrong?”

“What d’you mean? You asked me to be quiet.”

“Never usually stops you.” Henry sat back in his chair, reaching up under his pumpkin hood to scratch his scalp. “Can I ask you a question?”

“’Course you –”

“Why did you stop telling the story about these bars?”

“Because – because it wasn’t really a story,” Donnacha frowned. “There wasn’t anything else to tell, and I didn’t want to just keep… you know, rambling on.”

“That word again.” Henry’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Do I ramble on when I talk to you about work, or movies, or my life, or whatever?”

Donnacha frowned. “No?”

“But that’s what it felt like you were saying. Do I tell you too much? Because it feels as though you never tell me anything about yourself.”

“There’s… not much to know –”

Henry scoffed loudly, a sound Donnacha had not expected to hear from him. It set his teeth on edge, and the sensation was uncomfortably similar to the hurt that flared up when he thought about Payton and Autumn.

“You don’t tell me shit either,” he said. He was trying for a calm, measured tone, but somehow managed to sound like a sulking child. Like he’d gone into the corner shop and they were all sold out of Macaroons –

“What?” Henry choked out.

You – you never told me why you stopped going out, why you stopped being Lavender, why you stopped bringing dates here… Donnacha’s stomach turned over, and he was hit with the sudden realisation that he might be sick. The back of his hand hovered towards his mouth. How the hell could he even have considered saying that? How could he compare the details of his silly little life story with... whatever it was that had kept Henry locked up at home for so long?

He was just grateful he’d managed to bite his tongue before speaking.

“I’ve upset you.” A dry hitch in Henry’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Hen, it’s not – it’s not about that.”

His breath caught in his throat, heat swelling in his cheeks, as his insides gave an uneasy shift. It mightn’t have been so bad – in fact, it relieved a little pocket of pressure in his belly – if it hadn’t sounded like a lawnmower engine trying to take off. No denying it now.

“Pain in my stomach,” Donnacha admitted, massaging his side. “Right here.”

Henry turned his head, just slightly, and Donnacha caught sight of the look on his face. Something more than a sneer, something less than an eye roll. And his eyes were trailing close to the packets of chocolate bars that sat next to Donnacha on the bed.

“What?” Donnacha demanded.

“No comment.”

“You think I did this to myself.”

Henry turned back to his screen. “No comment.”

“And no sympathy either, I take it.” Donnacha sighed and pressed a little harder into his belly as he rubbed. The pain was warm, tight, tucked right up under his ribs. It felt a little like bloating, without feeling overly full. Like all of the chocolate had clumped together in his stomach and was sitting like a dead weight.

“I never said that, now, did I?”

Donnacha looked up to see that Henry was actually shutting his computer down. “Oh... you’re done?”

“Mmm. Yeah. Let’s go with that,” Henry said, which suggested to Donnacha that he wasn’t actually finished, but Donnacha was too relieved to make an argument. He hadn’t really acknowledged it, but the main thing getting him through the day had been this – time with Henry, time in which neither of them had to pretend that they were something they weren’t, or less than they were.

Henry spun his hair to the side and eased himself to his feet, wincing as he unfurled his legs. It suddenly felt silly – insensitive, even – for Donnacha to be complaining about something as fleeting and, yes, self-inflicted, as a belly ache.

“Are you okay?” Donnacha asked, half-rising from his position on the bed. “Is – is your hip...?”

“My hip’s fine,” Henry said as he sat down heavily on the edge of the mattress, one arm extended in Donnacha’s direction. “Come here.”

Donnacha exhaled and allowed himself to sink into Henry’s embrace, to enjoy the feeling of soft waves of hair brushing against his own. His own was short, aerodynamic, clipped and primed for always being on the move, while Henry’s had an air of messiness, of softness, of a way of living that involved no urgency.

Good, Donnacha thought with an odd flare of protectiveness. With all the pain and hardship that he’d been through, Henry deserved that kind of life.

A hand pressing against his belly made Donnacha groan and cuddle in closer, but shame pushed against the warmth in his chest.

I was supposed to be taking care of you.

Donnacha heard himself let out a whine, and his cheeks flushed. In an almost instantaneous response, Henry wrapped his arm tighter around Donnacha’s waist, tucking his face into Donnacha’s hair.

“How about you just try to get some sleep.” Another question that wasn’t a question. An offer that Donnacha wanted to sink into. Henry’s arm trembled against his ribcage, but he kept the hug going.

Donnacha shook his head, hair bristling against Henry’s stubbled chin. “Let’s watch The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Donnacha rubbed at his eyes and tried to sit up a little, resisting the urge to let his body curl around the sickly pain beneath his abs. “I might need a few more belly rubs, though, if you’re up for the job.”

Henry clicked his tongue in the back of his throat and pressed a quick, passing kiss to the side of Donnacha’s forehead. “Of course you do.”

#Lucverse Donnacha #sickfic #stomach ache fic #stomach ache #hurt comfort #hurt and comfort #Lucyverse #Lucyverse Henry #platonic caretaking

8 notes · View notes

ruelpsen · 2 years ago

Note

heyyy I'm the anon who asked about submitting writing and happy to announce, it is done!

I loved the monster tropes so here are my characters Vesper, a Fae, and his human partner Salem with Vesper's stomach being sensitive to human food. Hopefully no typos in this!

Vesper was not good at self-preservation.

In fact, he was so bad at it, even his partner joked he had more of an anti-survival instinct if anything. He was great at being responsible for others but himself? He didn’t take that very seriously. Being a Fae, this wasn’t necessarily surprising, they tended to be a bit more reckless than many other species but also being a Fae living in the human realm, it was a little bit more consequential than under a lot of other circumstances.

These reckless behaviours didn’t stop at food. Salem was always quick to lecture them on both eating too fast or eating things they both knew would not be good for him. They could probably tell him a hundred times and he would still not learn his lesson, in fact they might have already have told him a hundred times. And Vesper of all people knew he should know better, he was a nurse, any other Fae might be uneducated about what they weren’t supposed to eat in the human world but he certainly was not. He just chose to ignore that knowledge because he had simply grown quite fond of human food.

And today was just one of those days were he just had to overindulge.

It had been a long shift, Vesper was exhausted and craved nothing more than to just get home. Well, that and fast food. After stopping in some random drive-through, he practically devoured his meal still in his car. Honestly, even at that point, he was very aware that he was going to regret it but it just tasted so good, he didn’t want to stop himself. At least he knew Salem wouldn’t mind, if anything they’d be just the slightest bit happy about it. They did seem to like rubbing his tummy and comforting him whenever he’d have an upset stomach (which was probably more often than he cared to admit).

By the time he had arrived at their apartment, he could already feel his stomach disagreeing with his choice of food, churning and gurgling and bloating uncomfortably. He attempted to relieve himself with a few quiet burps but none aided to ease the growing discomfort in his belly. It felt like something in him just squirmed and he made a bit of a face as he entered the flat. “Salem, I’m home”, he called while kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. Nothing came back in response but that wasn’t unusual, his partner was probably just immersed in either an audio book or just studying. One way or another, Vesper didn’t bother calling again.

He found his partner nestled in their bedroom, huddled in blankets and surrounded by notes and books, apparently very absorbed in whatever they were reviewing. Salem looked up suddenly, having noticed the movement in their peripheral vision and immediately picked up on the visible discomfort on Vesper’s face. They took off their headphones, letting them hang around their neck loosely. “So? You got anything to tell me?” The Fae looked at the floor sheepishly, unable to suppress a hiccup rising from their throat. “Over- hic- ate a little after work…”

“And now?”

“And now I’m bloated…” He felt another burp rise in his chest but managed to swallow it down.

Salem sighed with faked resignation before putting away the scattered papers and books neatly on the nightstand and opening up their blanket cocoon with one hand. They petted their thighs with the other in an inviting manner. “Come here you big baby.” They weren’t actually mad, how could they when Vesper looked to cute when he was bloated and needed some relief? The Fae toddled over and wordlessly sat down into their lap. His partner was warm. So was the blanket they wrapped around him. It was comforting and hopefully it would help with the bloating a little. Salem’s hand snaked between their bodies and skilfully opened his pants. His stomach expanded near immediately, at least that’s what it felt like, but it did ease a tiny amount of pressure.

“When will you learn, huh? I thought Faes were so smart, yet you do this at least once a week.”, they teased.

Vesper pressed his forehead into their shoulder as their palm rubbed soft circles into his taut stomach. “I blame this on s- hicuuurp stress… Sorry…” Salem shrugged faintly. “No need to apologize. You know I don’t mind. You’re pretty lucky with that though, I bet not everyone would be so happy to comfort you.” He attempted to answer something, opening his mouth but instead of words, the only thing that came out was a huge, airy belch rumbling through his small body. “Ugh, that felt good…” They snickered a little. “Yeah, I bet it did. How can your stomach hold this much gas, you’re like five feet tall.”

“Five foot one, I’ll have youuuUUOOORRrp know…” At this point, between the teasing words and the relief from the gas finally escaping from his stomach, he did not attempt to do anything to stifle or hide his burps.

Vesper could practically hear the grin in their voice now. “And yet you make more noise than people I know twice your size.” “Well, Faes are magic- hic- magical.” He flexed his abdominal muscles, trying to force out more air but apart from some small burps nothing came up. “Hold on, it’suuuurp it’s stuck, ugh…” Salem hummed, giving another push to his stretched tummy and feeling something move but it only drew an uncomfortably noise from the Fae. “Hm… Okay, gimme a second and let me try something else.” Their hand moved slowly over his side and to his back and began rubbing small circles into his back. While it was somewhat soothing, it didn’t really help.

“What’s that supposed to do…?” Salem didn’t answer, just started gently patting his back over the middle of his ribcage. Again, it didn’t do much and Vesper was struggling to wonder what exactly Salem was trying to do until-

“buuurrrRRRROORRRP!”

The Fae moaned with relief, his stomach feeling suddenly much less full as the monstrous belch erupted from his throat. “Holy shit, that felt amazing…” His partner smiled down at him. “See? I knew this would help.” Salem leaned down to kiss him and before Vesper could do anything another throaty belch ripped through him. Hot embarrassment flooded his entire body as he pulled away and immediately looked down to avoid whatever reaction awaited him next. Not that his partner wasn’t used to his upset stomach and bloating but this had to be a new low. Instead, all he got was a loving pet of his hair. “That was so cute. You could do that more often and I wouldn’t mind.”

They sounded so flirty, it was completely out-of-character but it just made Vesper flush even more.

“Shut up, youuuurp- you and your stupid kink…”

Salem just shrugged again. “Come on, you gotta be stuffing yourself like this on purpose at least a little bit, don’t deny it turns you on a little bit that it gets me going.”

As his stomach rumbled once again when his partner began rubbing it again and he felt another burp rise into his chest, Vesper made the sudden realization that this was going to be one very long evening and simply leaned against their shoulder again in defeat.

Ooh, I love this! I just know people are going to love it too...

#fr thanks so much for sharing this!#i got all flustered and turned on reading it #ask #answered #anon

11 notes · View notes

lestweforget5 · 2 months ago

Note

Hey! For the ask you just put up. Don’t know how correct these are but..

Millie had a late growth spurt as a teenager.

When Millie was younger, if she was out on the farm with Arch and later Cleatus, if she fell asleep anywhere they would pick her up and give her a piggy back instead of waking her up.

Either loves horses or they have a mutually avoidant relationship. Nothing in between.

Millie and Kenny have their special icecream birthday tradition when Kenny gets back and Millie overindulges to the point of feeling ill. One of the first times Millie gets excitement/enjoyment from food, rather than just calories/protein.

All the former POWs relationship with food has changed. Even years later John will have to remind Millie to eat and Millie makes sure that John doesn’t prioritise others eating before himself.

One of the first (and only times) Millie gets properly drunk is at Hambones birthday at either late 1945 or 1946.

Army helped her develop a better poker face (which she is thankful for whenever an officer says something stupid)

Hello, Nonnie! Thank you for the ask!

EDIT: Adding a cut for length.

Millie had a late growth spurt as a teenager: Maybe??? I'll have to think about it. I haven't done a ton of pre-war worldbuilding in my head, especially background details like that, as interesting as it is, aside from her utter non-interest in boys and the dog attack. Your idea is very interesting. Millie already feels a bit short next to Kenny, Cleatus, Brady, Curt and Dickie, etc. Now to imagine her having been even shorter late in her teenage years is a little 😆. (When growth spurts hit and what part of us grows can be so random. As a teenager, I had to catch up with my feet!!)

Arch/Cleatus would carry Millie around on the farm when she was young if she fell asleep: I'm making this true and canon because it brings a smile to my face and makes me go 🥺🥺. If she was asleep, it would be hard to carry her piggy-back style, but her uncle would definitely carry her back to the house, maybe tuck her on the couch until dinner. Cleatus is only a few years older than her, so she'd probably have had to be a small kid to make that work. It reminds me of a heartwarming video of two siblings I saw once on social media where big brother carries little sister, who's not that much smaller than him, over a little stream-let.

Horses: Maybe??? I've actually been batting around the idea of where the Lemmons have a mule or two, instead of horse(s). For possible reasons why, see here, for example.

Millie and Kenny's birthday tradition: This one, I'd have to say no to. Following her repatriation to America, Millie has a lot of issues centering around food and simply eating enough of it to put back on the weight she lost in the hospital/camps. (We've seen a little of this in the penultimate chapter of Sunward I've Climbed during Millie's late-night talk with her uncle, and we'll see more of this in future stories.) And if you haven't eaten as much sugar for a while, what you used to eat normally can seem sickly sweet, so she would be more likely to have trouble finishing her half of the ice-cream soda.

Relationship with Food: Very true, sadly. Your ideas would especially be relevant to maybe the first five years or so after the war and then maybe the bad days/weeks afterwards. Winter would be especially triggering. Some foods also could be quite triggering and require John more than usual to remind Millie to eat. (As she notes in an upcoming story, his "Don't think, just eat" is much more effective when he's telling it to her than when she's telling it to herself.) For example, Millie can't stand fried potatoes, which are common in Arkansas, following her return to America because of how great a proportion of their German rations potatoes were. Marmalade, prevalent in the German rations and in Red Cross parcels, could be another trigger. Corned beef could be another, especially because of its more pungent smell (from my experience) and how smells can be major PTSD triggers.

Millie and drink: This I also have to say no to. I actually doubt whether Millie would ever touch an intoxicating drink after the war. If she did at all, it would probably be nothing more than taking a sip of what John was drinking. She would have seen some of her fellow female airmen come back tipsy or drunk at Thorpe Abbotts, and after what happened in Germany, some of what happens to you physiologically when you're tipsy/drunk or what you can do when you're tipsy/drunk would make her feel very vulnerable, not that Brady would EVER hurt her or let anyone hurt her, but I still think she might very well avoid alcohol.

Millie's poker face: Very, very true. Developing a poker face is good for when officers are being stupid and when enlisted or officers are being misogynistic toward the female airmen. At least, her rank allows her to smack many of the enlisted back down to size.

#masters of the air #the sunward verse #ask answered #ask game

0 notes

chubbology · 4 years ago

Text

Overindulged

prompt: feeder boyfriend quits his job and balloons as fat as his feedee/feeder girlfriend

He drove his sleek BMW up his driveway and into the middle garage just as dusk settled into night. He’d stayed overtime at work again, and to make it up to his girlfriend, three dozen fresh assorted donuts sat in the passenger seat.

Sure enough, immediately upon opening the back door with his stack of boxes, he heard her voice: “Late.”

“It’s the end of the month,” he said. “What do you expect? Brought you something though, so don’t be mad. Come in here.”

He set the boxes down on the granite island, then waited, sucking in a breath. His pupils dilated as his favorite person in the world waddled through the wide archway leading into the kitchen. After giving him a pout, she pulled the boxes toward her with arms that hung, at their heaviest, over half a foot with fat.

She was a beautiful, enormous woman. He had met her on a plane three years ago on a business trip to Paris. She’d pulled him into conversation like a warm whirlpool, and he’d listened in awe to her life story: miserable wife of a banker to a happily divorced entrepreneur, flying first class on her own dime.

With a smug, knowing smile, she talked about how she used to be skinny for her ex’s sake and now was free. He couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over her blatantly overweight body. Thighs pressing firm on either armrest of the wide seat, bust prominent and heavy, belly button deep and visible through her dress.

Bad news is, she’d concluded, I just settled a messy lawsuit that lost me my career and nearly bankrupted me. But she shrugged, as if such was life. I’m taking my last-hurrah vacation until I have no choice but to eat tiny, unsatisfying meals again.

He decided that couldn’t come to pass, so he spent as much time with her outside his business obligations as he could, taking her to meal after meal, falling in love as she ate to her heart’s content and shamelessly talked about how she’d rather fallen in love with gaining weight. It titillated and empowered her. By the end of their two week stay in Paris, she was twelve pounds bigger and he had invited her to live with him for a while as she looked for a new career path. She accepted.

Three years later, she’d found her calling without having to leave his luxurious, spacious home. Doing what she loved.

She was almost four hundred and fifty pounds now, last he was updated. She always wore leggings that clung to every lump and bulge of cellulite, and she liked to tease him by wearing crop tops, letting her massive belly and side rolls hang out and wobble as they pleased.

He watched with soft eyes as she stuffed herself with four jelly-filled doughnuts. Between bites she said, “These long hours at your soulless job are no good. My fans want to see more of you.” More eating. “The last time you fed me on camera was weeks ago!”

She gave him an imploring look as she ate a fifth doughnut. Boston creme. Her face, once conventionally pretty, now had a sexy overindulged look. She’d lost her jawline to additional chins and neck fat, and her round, fatty cheeks quivered as she chewed. Even before she finished the fifth doughnut, she picked up a sixth. “And don’t think they haven’t noticed that little tummy you have now.”

“What?” He looked down at himself, blushing at how his tie sat out a bit on slightly stretched white buttons.

Before he could say anything, she pushed a chocolate doughnut in his hand. “I know people willing to pay a pretty petty to see you chunk out.” She smirked. “Pop a couple of those buttons.”

He laughed dismissively, but as he ate the doughnut, he contemplated the press of his new chub against his shirt. His pants felt a little tight in the ass, too, now that he thought about it. What if? he thought.

Suddenly, he found himself admitting: “I’ve been thinking of quitting.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“I want to spend more time with you,” he explained. He hadn’t meant to talk about it now, but here he was. Out of nervousness, he pulled one of the boxes toward himself and picked another doughnut, this one caving in under its sprinkles. He took a heavenly bite. “I have plenty of money saved and invested to take care of both of us for a long time. I just don’t see why I…”

She waddled over to his side of the island and took his free hand. “You know I’d support you.” Then she pulled him closer, into a smiling kiss. “I’ll support you real good.”

Before his two week notice even ended, he was eight pounds heavier, and he relished how his coworkers’ eyes lingered on his burgeoning waistline. Soon, his tummy was pushing over his pants. His chest felt thicker. He felt his ass spread wider when he sat down. He ate desserts all the time, and his girlfriend lavished him with attention (food) at every opportunity when he was home, encouraging him to eat in amounts he’d never let himself eat before. She started filming - with his consent, as always - the development of his chubbing up. Her fans loved him even more than they already did, compliments coming in faster than he could read them.

One month into being an unemployed man, she stuffed him on camera until one of his shirt buttons popped off. The experience was more of a revelation for him than even becoming officially overweight; that night, after she went to sleep, he got out of bed, squeezed into an old pair of slacks that barely fit him, then gorged himself in the kitchen until he gasped at the relief of his ass seam tearing open, unable to accommodate his butt, which everyone online said was growing gorgeously fat. His heart fluttered just thinking about it, and he hoped his ass kept growing.

It did.

“I admit, I never thought you’d be this much of a pear,” his girlfriend told him, six months into his steady ballooning. They were admiring his progress in the large bathroom mirror. He may have looked small relative to his partner’s morbid obesity, but somehow, they were both more fascinated with his growth at the moment. She outlined his bottom heavy figure with her hands. Fat had indeed stored most eagerly in his ass, thighs, and hips. His belly drooped soft and wide.

“I love it,” she said. “Love everything about you.” But then something else came into her expression. “Except how you’ve stopped picking up after yourself.”

He swallowed, and said honestly, “Sorry. I know I’m getting lazier.”

“We’ll have to hire a maid.” She grinned wickedly. “Or do two pigs deserve to roll in their sty?”

A year into living on his passive income and her subscribers, the couple had not yet hired any cleaning services, and his country club house was...well. Not trashed, but messy and disorganized. She blamed the five pounds she’d lost over the past month on having to constantly throw his trash away. She punished him by making him stand while drinking a whole liter of full-sugar soda. Since he’d developed a strong distaste for any physical effort as he sunk deeper into obesity, he grumbled the whole time. When he finally fell back on the couch, she sat too. Together, they took up most of it. But while she looked perfectly composed, he was panting raggedly, slightly sweaty, a food stain on his pants.

“Look.” She reached out and held his chubby wrist. “I can tell that the fatter you get, the more your natural inclination is to be a pig.” She spoke with total matter-of-factness. As if the emergence of his inner pig was unsurprising and inevitable. “It’s not uncommon in men - that urge to oink and eat as a way of life. But we share this space. I help pay off this house. Please throw away your take out containers.”

Then she added, at his long-suffering sigh, “I’ll reward you.”

He met her gaze. “Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

This time, there were no cameras. There was just her, sitting on one side of their king bed and him on the other, breathing heavy, taking her reward one bite at a time.

Everywhere in their bed were containers and packages and napkins and soda bottles. He had eaten mexican and noodles and burgers and fries. He’d eaten candy bars and sundaes and milkshakes and chunky cookies. He was so full he could feel the skin of his belly stretching. He could practically feel the skin of his thighs stretching, as if they were filling up heavier with fat right then, as he was determinedly overfed. He swallowed another bite of greasy cheeseburger.

“Keep going. I can tell you're slowing down, but I’ll have none of that yet. I want to see progress from you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you want to feel the ecstasy of squeezing through a doorframe or are you going to plateau at being just fat?”

He let out a breathy moan as he ate another bite of the cheeseburger. His girlfriend knew him too well. She knew he liked the new challenges being big was causing him. She knew it turned him on that he sat so much fatter in his own car, belly pressing against everything, ass barely fitting at all. She knew his hands had begun cupping his hips as a half-unconscious habit, admiring his own width.

He liked how his thighs had to push past each other, jiggling every time. He even liked when he accidentally bumped into things, because it was a hot reminder that he wasn’t the same. He was like her now. He was fat. He was a pig. He wanted to eat and get so big he could barely even waddle. He wanted to squeeze through doorways. He wanted to get stuck.

“I want everything,” he said. And she smiled, temporarily pleased.

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

#weight gain #fic #female feeder #male gainer

493 notes · View notes

echo-of-sounds · 4 years ago

Text

daddy dom pt.2

Headcanons on the types of Daddy Dom Toshinori, Hizashi, and Fatgum are.

All three of these men are underappreciated.

Warnings: Daddy Dom relationship, (the rest is only mentioned, there’s no real detail) punishments, slapping, spanking (with and without a paddle), anal play, ball gags, handcuffs, and rough sex

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori’s been exposed to dominant play in sex, but it’s never captured his interest. Sex to him is sensitive, sensual, and intimate. The harsher side, slapping, choking, and anything close to rough, he is more than unenthusiastic towards. He can’t find pleasure in pain, even if the pain gives you pleasure. It’s caused so much heartache in his life, and he truly can’t bring himself to incorporate it during a time that’s supposed to be passionate and loving.

However, he isn’t opposed to being a Daddy. When you bring it up, he reads about and talks to you about it in detail before making a decision. He doesn’t mind being dominant. In fact, he quite enjoys being your protector, someone who you can confide in, who you can snuggle up against, sheltered in his arms while he pets and kneads your body. He’s your number one supporter and shields you from the stress of the world.

Toshi is the sweetest Daddy. You’re his sweetie, his sweetheart, and his sweet girl. Whatever catches your eye, he keeps in mind to buy for a present because he overindulges your every whim. He has money. He has the necessities. He rarely buys himself expensive, lavish things, which means he has plenty of money to spoil you with: books and movies you’re interested in, new clothing and jewelry, that adorable stuffed animal you reluctantly walked past, board, card, and video games, lotion, blankets, etc…

He dislikes punishment and so very rarely uses it. It’s at most a light spanking to get your attention. Daddy prefers positive reinforcement and talking to you about your misbehavior. That way, you can understand who important listening is, especially when it comes to his rules. You shouldn’t eat too many cookies because it’ll upset your stomach. You shouldn’t leave clothes and books strewn across the floor because someone could slip and fall. You shouldn’t cum before he permits because he is your Daddy and listening to him is important. The second you apologize, he’s back to caressing and kissing you.

You should always try to wear Daddy’s favorite colors. It gets you more cuddles and compliments. Anything in lilac, baby pink, and soft cream draws his hands towards you like a magnet. Panties with cute, little bows are a cherry on top. Wear a cream dress at home. Your lavender panties can be seen through the thin material. From across the room, you can feel his eyes. He’ll eventually tell you to come and sit on his lap. He massages your sides as you rest on his shoulder. If you want, start grinding. Your gradually wetting underwear informs him of your arousal. Don’t worry, he’ll take care of it for you.

For bedtime, he has a soft spot for cock warming. He absolutely loves falling asleep when you’re connected. He’ll lay down. You just have to straddle him and slip him inside. Don’t move. Simply lay on his chest, kissing his collarbones and neck, drowsily mumbling how and why you love him. His hums of love warm your body. His breath warms your skin. As you start to drift off, his arms cushion you safe and sound- your own little safe haven.

Soft sex is the norm. Daddy’s respectful, attentive, devoted, and eager to feel the heat of your body. Each easy thrust pushes deep, stretching you to fit him perfectly. Don’t hide your face or moans. They urge his hips to forage for more. When you’re fussing because you’re right there, he speeds up, kissing you profoundly, fiercely, whispering in his amorous, baritone voice, “It’s okay, Sweetie. Let yourself cum. Daddy’s right here. Daddy’s right here.”

Because of Toshi’s physical health, he isn’t able to have sex as frequently as the other guys. But he still pampers you plenty. He’ll buy you a pink vibrator to circle your clit with. You can ride his bare thigh, spreading your wetness over him as he guides your hips. He’ll watch you hump a pillow and cry out for your Daddy. He’ll finger you till you’re satisfied. He just wishes you to be pleased however, and whenever you need it.

Rough sex isn’t exactly rough sex. But you do get to ride Daddy however you want. You can bounce excitedly or grind hastily or buck in sheer, vulgar heat. His compliments mix into groans the more you ride. He sucks your breasts. He spanks your ass. He grips your thighs until his nails nearly cut skin. It’s the time for you to have your fun and make Daddy feel pleasured like he always does for you.

Yamada Hizashi

Straightaway, Hizashi knew dominance was something he wanted. He likes leading and commanding someone under him, probing, inspecting, and licking every part of them. When you start a relationship, he opens up to you, wanting to know what you do and don’t like, and his interests are shared back.

You’re his one and only baby girl. No one else gets that name but you. You’re his teddy bear, snuggling you at bedtime. He shows you new places, feeds you new foods, and gives you new experiences you’ve never had before. Your joy and delight is the epitome of beauty. He strives to see it in your eyes and smile as much as possible.

On top of being his baby, you’re also his little experiment. He does everything to you, in whatever way he wants: fingering your ass, slowly spreading you wider and wider, praising your patience; having you ride two dildos at once as he watches your breasts and expressions; forcing you to stand still with a vibrator deep within you, unable to cum or whine or even move until he’s completely and utterly satisfied. No matter what it is, he just likes having fun and thinking of new ways to make you squirm.

When he’s out and about, go onto his laptop and search for whatever you want. Do those panties look incredibly comfortable? Add it to his cart. Is that necklace calling your name? Add it to his cart. Is that cute glass wand something you want to play with? Add it to his cart. He’ll buy them all. And the second they arrive, you better use them. Wear only the panties and necklace. Lick and rub yourself with the dildo. Show him just how much you enjoy the presents.

One thing you can do to help your Daddy relax is to let him suck your breasts. Hizashi hides his stress well. When he’s abnormally snugly, burrowing his head into your chest, hibernating under the blankets with you, it’s stress. Take off your shirt, and he’ll attach to your nipple. It’s not sexual. Something to nurse on is soothing for him. Daddies need comfort too!

Hizashi is super playful when he’s in his Daddy mode (not that different from his usual self, but he’s more hyperfocused on you). Keep in mind that that doesn’t mean he won’t discipline you after any mischief. If you don’t follow the list of rules on the fridge, fun Daddy goes away and it’s punishment time. His go-tos are timeouts, no phone, no Tv, early bedtime and, as much as it pains him, no cuddling.

When you’re being really disobedient, his voice lowers, grating his throat, vibrating his chest. It’s definitely provoking. His spankings even more so. As he stuffs you full of anal beads, you begin to think it isn’t even a punishment. But then he blindfolds and ties you up. You’re left all alone in the bedroom, in the cold air, can’t see, can’t move, only able to feel the toys gorged deep inside you for hours. If you fuss, he comes and puts a ball gag in your mouth. It’s best to wait it out until he’s convinced you’ve been appropriately disciplined.

Punishments often transition into rough, fast, dominating sex. You’re still bound and gagged and stuffed as his thrusts start. Let him hear your helpless whimpers. Let him listen to your drenched, lewd sex every time he sinks deep. He spreads you wide open and fondles you however he wants. Don’t be a bad girl. Grant him ownership of your body. It frequently ends with him cumming in your ass and plugging it with a butt plug. Keep it inside because the punishment isn’t over.

While he does enjoy the rough and tough, Daddy also values slowing down, kissing your body, and gifting you with plenty of loyal, loving rapture. You can choose the position: do you want to ride him as he kisses you? Or do you want Daddy to draw out his time on top of you, thrusting deep and intensely, giving you all the pleasure in the world? Either way, he makes do, nuzzling your neck, squeezing your thighs, praising his baby girl for everything she is.

Taishiro Toyomitsu

Taishiro is naturally so playful and so willing to experiment. The way he unconsciously praises his partner is a hint to his inner Daddy just waiting to come out. He sighs, ‘that’s a good girl’ as you blow him. He groans, ‘good job, baby’ as you cum. He grunts, ‘you’re taking me perfectly’ as he releases, thick and heavy, inside you. All you have to do is whimper for your Daddy and from then on out, that’s exactly who he is.

Baby, baby girl, little girl, good girl, Daddy uses them all. You’re his major weakness. He’s your biggest cheerleader, your safest space, your confidant, the one you can run to when you’re upset, overwhelmed, excited, and scared. He never wants you to feel alone. It’s a Daddy’s responsibility to ensure his little girl feels respected and heard, and he always assures you’re loved.

Daddy loves bathing you. He sits beside the tub and washes your back. He’ll coo loving praises as he cleans your body thoroughly. The plush washcloth and soothing soap brushes feather-light across your shoulders, down your back, and between your legs, making sure you’re neat (and cute) as a button. After you’re wrapped in a huge, fluffy towel and carried to bed where you’re slowly patted dry. Then he bundles you to his chest for sleep.

Compliments your ‘pretty pussy’ all the time. It’s Daddy’s and it’s beautiful. When he’s watching TV and the mood strikes, he slowly lays you down, lifts your dress, takes off your panties, and fingers and stretches and strokes you to his heart’s content. But he won’t let you orgasm. And you can’t complain or touch yourself. You can only lay open for his pleasure. He delights in your tongue sticking out, searching for something to suck on, and your glazed-over eyes silently begging for him to give you so much more.

Tai is definitely the type of Daddy who likes to be comforted now and then. He tries to hide his insecurities so you don’t worry. But he deserves the care and attention he’s always showing you. When he’s fidgeting with his clothes, ask him for some skin-to-skin cuddling. Kiss his stretch marks. Sigh or sing for him. Just woo his beautiful, handsome heart.

Cock warming is one of his favorites. It can be a punishment when you’re back talking or not listening. He makes you sit there for hours, your wet, swollen lips around his cock as you squirm, trying not to touch yourself. Then when he finally finishes, that’s it. You don’t get any gratification for misbehaving. It pleases the dom part of Daddy Dom. He also uses it whenever he misses you and your body. You sit on him and relax against his tummy, softly kissing, gently stroking him as both your arousals drip and mix together.

Rough sex means you’re going to get controlled. Cute, pink nipple clamps go on, handcuffs restrain your wrists behind your back, and a paddle will spank your ass raw. The paddle has little hearts in it, imprinting the designs onto your sore skin. Every thrust jerks your body, bearing his weight brutally into you. Every clit slap arches your back, harsher and higher. Every little sound you make will be praised, earning you more and more spankings. As you cum, the thrusts keep on coming, fully intent on making you orgasm until the sheets are soaked.

But when you finally collapse, Daddy tenderly releases your hands, gently lifts you, then carries you off for a warm bubble bath. If you ask, he’ll most certainly join. Arms will cradle you perfectly to his chest. Lips kiss all over your shoulders and chest, cherishing your scars, idolizing blemishes, worshiping every inch. He wants you to know and feel how much he treasures you, especially after particularly rough sex.

To start soft sex, Daddy expects you to sit on his face. Grind as his tongue tastes all of you. You have to cum on his face at least once before proceeding. That’s his one rule during lovemaking. Other than that, you can ask for anything, and he’ll oblige. Holding you close, he walks you through every orgasm, asking, ‘how much do you love Daddy?’ With how highly he coddles and comforts you, it’s indescribable.

1K notes · View notes

pokemonispain · 3 years ago

Text

Choke it down-Chongyun/Xingqiu

Summary: In which Xingqiu suffers the consequences of forcing himself to eat too much during a special family dinner.

______________________________________________________________

Xingqiu scowled ever so slightly as he fidgeted at his family’s rather large dinner table. His gaze flickers between the numerous dishes on the table before glancing down at the food sitting on his plate, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep that polite smile on his face when he sees the carrots sitting there among the dish.

Tonight was a rather special night, his family had invited a rather prominent business associate over from Fontaine, this business associate was also a friend of Xingqiu’s father as well. It was no secret that this person was an honored guest which is exactly why Xingqiu had been a bit on edge as this day slowly grew closer.

Xingqiu had been especially nervous today, that slight anxiety buzzing in his chest making it hard to focus on anything else even Chongyun’s normally calming presence had done little to help remedy it, although it definitely helped soothe Xingqiu a bit. This anxiety had caused other problems too, however, with Xingqiu finding his appetite barely there or not there at all so he hadn’t eaten anything all day besides one or two small snacks, a faint queasiness nagging at him throughout the entire day.

Xingqiu always had a rather small appetite and wasn’t really a person to overindulge in food even if it were something he adored. So he can’t help but find himself rather hesitant as he stares at the plate of food that’d been placed before him.

Xingqiu absolutely hated carrots in any form or fashion, finding the flavor of them utterly revolting, and often just the thought of that horrible nearly overpowering disgustingly sweet taste was often enough to either make him gag or feel slightly queasy most of the time. And Xingqiu finds himself biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep from gagging as he gives the food a weary look, his eyes roving over the bits of carrot sprinkled in the dish.

But even without the carrots being present the other problem with the food on his plate was that it was a rather large serving for him especially, just looking at it made his stomach ache a bit. Xingqiu glances up catching his brother’s slightly concerned gaze for a moment before flicking over to the business associate.

The man looks at him, seeming slightly surprised by the fact that Xingqiu hadn’t begun eating yet as those around him had. “Is something wrong,” he asked Xingqiu with a slight frown.

Almost reflexively Xingqiu shook his head, that polite smile on his face. “No sir, I assure you everything is fine. I was just trying to decide where to begin, it all looks so incredible after all.”

The man chuckled, a grin spreading over his face. “That’s good to hear, help yourself to 3rds and even fourths if you like there’s quite a lot to go around.”

Xingqiu merely nodded as he grabbed his fork hesitantly brought a bite of the food to his mouth, he took a deep breath in an attempt to prepare himself even slightly before he placed the food in his mouth. It seems fine as he slowly chews, completely silent as he stares at the table. The taste is a tiny bit strong for his already slightly unsettled stomach but it’s not utterly revolting or anything so he takes another hesitant bite.

The moment he places the second bite of food in his mouth he freezes, his body tensing up ever so slightly as he struggles not to spit the piece of food out almost immediately. Carrots, he can taste that disgustingly sweet taste of carrots spread over his tongue, carrying a slightly earthy taste that would be pleasant to most but just tasted like unwashed vegetables to Xingqiu.

He closes his mouth, gritting his teeth, the back of his throat spasming slightly threatening to make him gag.

But he can’t spit it out. Not only was that disgusting and unsightly it was rude to the family friend who had brought it to the dinner.

Xingqiu gives a soft shaky exhale and does everything in his power to chew, and he does that disgusting flavor only spreads though nearly overpowering as it coats his mouth. Swallowing it is a struggle for him and he can’t help the tiny shuddering breath he lets out once he forces it down.

He does briefly notice his brother sending him a slightly concerned look but Xingqiu doesn’t acknowledge it as his eyes instead return to his plate of food.

Xingqiu swallows repeatedly, almost frantically, trying to rid his mouth of that horrible taste of carrots before it makes the slight queasiness already lurking in his stomach all the more worse. However, no matter how much he swallows the taste coats his mouth and he can feel that slight nagging queasiness begin to grow stronger.

Xingqiu grabs his cups of water and quickly takes a few sips doing his best to retain his composure as he sets the cup of water back down. The taste of carrot is still there although much fainter than before, while the water he just drank seems to settle a bit heavily in his stomach, sloshing around ever so slightly before settling a bit like someone gently swirling a wine glass.

That sloshing sensation combined with the heaviness as if he’d just swallowed a small rock has his queasiness growing stronger becoming an almost cold, slimy nausea that seemed to wash over him briefly.

Closing his eyes and swallowing thickly for a moment, Xingqiu takes a deep breath before eventually opening his eyes and taking another bite of food feeling slightly more confident and determined than before. He just needed to finish this one plate then he could excuse himself and go spend time with Chongyun who was no doubt waiting for him in his room. All he had to do was keep eating and simply drink the water to keep that horrible taste out of his mouth and he would be fine.

~~~

Xingqiu gives a very soft sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as he took deep breaths, swallowing thickly when he notices the faint taste of carrots coating his tongue causing his nausea to spike sharply for a moment.

Xingqiu was uncomfortably full, not beyond his limit but just enough to make it slightly painful. While the water he’d been drinking had helped rid his mouth of that god-awful taste, it had left his stomach feeling even more bloated, and each slight movement he made seemed to send the liquid shifting as it sloshed and swirled in his stomach in a nauseating fashion, attempting to settle.

Still, even he is unprepared for when his stomach makes a rather loud growling noise, clearly rather upset at having more food than it was used to inside of it. For a moment Xingqiu freezes his eyes rather wide, blush rushing to his face when both the guest and his older brother look at him.

Xingqiu quickly glances away feeling absolutely mortified and even more heat rushing to his face as his stomach continues to growl. “E-Excuse me,” he said softly, his gaze on the table before him.

“Ah, no need to be embarrassed,” the guest laughed. “It sounds like you’re still hungry though please help yourself, there’s plenty enough to go around.”

Although the guest’s words are said with kindness, Xingqiu feels nothing but a sense of dread at his words and he struggles to keep his eyes from widening in horror as the man picks up his empty plate and begins filling it with food.

Xingqiu quickly glanced at his brother, sending him a pleading look before speaking up himself. “Please, there’s no need. I'm sure my older brother needs it more than I do.” He’s praying to the archons that the guest gets his hints, changes his mind because it took so, so much work just to force down that one plate of food already and Xingqiu isn’t sure how much more he can take.

His prayers, however, are swiftly denied as the host chuckles before placing the now refilled plate in front of him and if possible this portion is even bigger than the last. “Oh no I insist, you’re a growing boy after all.”

Xingqiu merely gives a polite smile back before turning his attention back to the food in front of him. Just seeing the pieces of carrot sprinkled in the dish, not to mention the amount of food on the plate has the nausea turning and sloshing in Xingqiu’s stomach suddenly grow stronger, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from weakly gagging.

He can feel air bubbling at the back of his throat, more than likely a hiccup or a burp threatening to erupt out of him but he does his damndest to force it back. He feels his stomach grow slightly tighter when he does, both the ache and sensation of uncomfortable fullness as well as the nausea growing ever so slightly as the contents of his stomach slosh for a moment.

Xingqiu closes his eyes for a brief moment as he tries to prepare himself for what he has to do. He could do this, all he had to do was force it down then afterwards he could go spend time with Chongyun, preferably just laying down because truthfully he didn’t feel his best at the moment.

Opening his eyes Xingqiu begins eating, few his brother’s eyes on him the entire time.

His brother is the only one who notices how Xingqiu seems to get paler and paler the longer he eats, how Xingqiu would shift slightly discreetly rubbing at his stomach below the table with a trembling hand, not to mention the way his throat would shift as he swallowed almost frantically.

Both of them know that this definitely isn’t going to end well.

~~~

Full. Xingqiu was so uncomfortably full that his stomach felt as if it were a water balloon on the verge of bursting. Each step he took had the numerous cups of water he drank sloshing violently in his stomach in a nauseating fashion, eliciting low gurgles from the overtaxed organ as everything shifted around struggling to find a place to settle.

And Xingqiu muffles a loud hiccup into his hand not bothering to keep the facade up any longer now that the guest was gone and he was alone. The hiccup however brings with it the horrible taste of carrots which makes Xingqiu cringe, swallowing frantically in an effort to force back the nausea violently churning in his gut.

His stomach was taut and noticeably bloated as he placed his hand on it, the organ shifting beneath his fingertips as it struggled to digest everything, low tense gurgling noises coming from his stomach.

All the food he’d eaten beforehand, now set heavily in his gut like a boulder. His lungs felt as though they couldn’t expand all the way as if he had a tight band wrapped around his abdomen.

The mass of food he’d eaten sitting heavily in his stomach, practically feeling as if it were solidifying into a ball. Every movement he took had his stomach sloshing sickeningly, the water he’d drank during dinner sending that ball of food brushing against the walls of his stomach in a nauseating fashion.

Muffling another nauseated hiccup into his hand, Xingqiu slowly continued making his way to his room where Chongyun was waiting for him.

Chongyun has been waiting in Xingqiu’s room for the other boy to return for quite a while truthfully. This wasn’t anything new to either of them, especially if either of their families had plans that day.

Both of them often spent time together in each other’s rooms, sometimes it was to simply talk and enjoy each other’s presence, sometimes it was for sex but it truly didn’t matter as both of them considered their rooms their own little private hideaway in a sense. Where there were no prying eyes and no need to really hide anything from each other.

Hearing soft familiar footsteps approaching Chongyun looks up from his seat on the edge of the Xingqiu’s bed a small smile spreading across his face, although some part of him can’t help but notice that the footsteps seem a bit heavier than usual. Clumsy almost, which he does find a bit odd considering Xingqiu was anything but clumsy. This small detail has a tiny bit of worry springing to life in the back of his mind however he ignores it for now at least.

As the door to the room opens, however, that small smile shifts becoming a concerned scowl when Xingqiu slowly trudges into the room, his face pale as a sheet, one hand clutching tightly at his stomach like an open wound. Xingqiu looked completely drained of energy as well as extremely nauseous, a soft slurred groan leaving his lips and his grip on his bloated stomach tightening when it made a loud almost harsh gurgling noise that nearly made Chongyun cringe.

Climbing off the bed Chongyun walks over to Xingqiu, his worried scowl on his face the entire time. Now that Chongyun was closer he could see that Xingqiu’s stomach seemed to be incredibly bloated as well, the fabric of Xingqiu’s shirt stretched tightly over his abdomen practically digging into the skin there.

“Xingqiu, what’s wrong? Are you alright,” Chongyun asked as his eyes roved over Xingqiu for a moment.

Both he and Xingqiu flinch when Xingqiu’s stomach makes a harsh growling noise as if snarling at him. What little color Xingqiu has in his face seems to slowly drain away, and he gives a soft slurred groan, swallowing thickly, the sound audible when a wave of nausea rolls over him.

Xingqiu muffles a distinctly queasy-sounding hiccup into his hand, his stomach feeling like someone violently swirling a wine glass. The water in his gut is constantly shifting and sloshing, rolling the mass of food around in his stomach like a ball rolling across a floor as everything he’s forced inside of him struggles to settle among the already cramped space.

“I…feel sick…”Xingqiu mumbles, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he clutched tightly at his stomach when pain stabbed out the inside of it. It felt as if someone were grabbing his insides, sharply tugging and squeezing them.

Chongyun bites his lip as he stares at Xingqiu, his gaze full of concern. “Do you think you’re going to be sick,” he asked gently.

Xingqiu pauses looking at him as he blinks slowly for a moment or two, then he gives a soft huff. “I don’t know,” he murmured as he walked past Chongyun and carefully sat down on the bed.

Xingqiu’s eyes are closed as he rubs carefully at his stomach, the overtaxed and abused organ gurgling loudly as it worked relentlessly in an effort to break down everything. Shifting and rumbling beneath his fingertips as it writhed as though it was a living thing with a mind of its own.

His stomach almost felt like a warm water balloon, the water sloshing and churning in him like a whirlpool rolling the mass of food around in his gut. The contents of it practically boiled and bubbled inside of him.

He swallows thickly forcing back the air bubbling at the back of his throat, along with the saliva filling his mouth both of these actions are a mistake because it feels as if his stomach grows even tighter due to the trapped air, while the saliva only seemingly adds to his already full stomach.

Chongyun tries to be careful as he sits on the bed beside Xingqiu, not wanting to upset his clearly volatile stomach even further but even then it’s not careful enough as Xingqiu gives a low groan when he’s jostled slightly.

A hiccup bubbles out of him and if possible Chongyun thinks he sees Xingqiu grow a shade or two paler. Xingqiu closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing thickly when the jostling makes his stomach slosh sickeningly, a strong wave of nausea rolling over him, eliciting a soft groan from him.

He tries to take deep breaths but it’s hard to do so when he can barely breathe around the mass of food in his gut.

Xingqiu is regretting even attending the dinner in the first place truthfully. His stomach wasn’t particularly used to big portions and it definitely wasn’t used to him gorging himself as he had done at the dinner.

And yet some part of him feels bad because the guest clearly meant well and no doubt had no clue that Xingqiu wasn’t a big eater nor that he absolutely hated carrots.

“Is there anything I can do to help,” Chongyun asked as his eyes glanced down at Xingqiu’s stomach. He can clearly see the fabric of Xingqiu’s shirt digging into his stomach, straining tightly against the bloated area. He has no doubt that Xingqiu is in a lot of pain.

Xingqiu is quiet for a moment before he cracks one eye open and eventually nods. “Can you rub my stomach, please? For some reason when I do it, it doesn’t work.”

Chongyun froze for a brief moment before nodding. “Sure, I’ll help. Come here.” Chongyun knows that he’s just helping Xingqiu and that there was nothing really strange about it, but some part of him, a part he always kept suppressed can’t help but feel slightly flustered.

Xingqiu sighs as he lays his head in Chongyun’s lap, stretching a bit and shifting to get comfortable before eventually giving a soft huff as he laid out on his back one hand still clutching tightly at his stomach. He grimaces slightly when a cramp twists sharply at his stomach, that dull ache and pressure leaving him feeling as though someone was squeezing his stomach.

For a moment or two Chongyun looks down at him, his eyes roving across Xingqiu’s face simply watching him, taking the brief moment to take in those familiar features he loved so much. Those long beautiful almost delicate eyelashes, his soft lips that Chongyun found his eyes frequently drawn to whenever Xingqiu spoke.

Xingqiu frowns slightly, opening his eyes a bit, those honey-colored irises looking up at Chongyun. “What’s wrong,” he asked softly, confused as to why Chongyun wasn’t rubbing his stomach.

Chongyun shakes his head, both to give Xingqiu a response and to clear his mind. “It’s nothing, I was just worried about hurting you.” What Chongyun says isn’t completely a lie but he has a feeling that he’ll be teased if he tells Xingqiu the truth.

At that Xingqiu gives a soft snort, a slight look of amusement crawling across his features only to be replaced by a grimace when his stomach made a loud, tense gurgling that sent pain darting across the entirety of his stomach. The clearly overtaxed organ having a bit of trouble getting everything in it to settle down.

Xingqiu gives a huff, narrowing his eyes a bit at the pain before his free hand reaches up, patting Chongyun’s head as a slight smile spreads across his face. “Trust me Yun, I highly doubt you can do anything to hurt me right now,” he told him, trying to reassure him.

It is only when Chongyun merely gives a nod that Xingqiu lowers his hand and closes his eyes again.

Taking a deep breath to calm his mind and prepare himself, Chongyun reaches out. He does his best to work quickly, methodically almost as he unbuttons Xingqiu’s shirt to at least ease the pain on his stomach a tiny bit, trying his best not to think about how this scene is reminiscent of another one in his memory.

Still, despite the mental preparations Chongyun takes he isn’t prepared for the loud moan that leaves Xingqiu’s mouth as he loosened the last button, Chongyun freezes his eyes wide as he starts to feel heat rushing to his face. This was bad. Very bad. It would seem that Xingqiu could be dangerous even when he wasn’t trying to be.

“Oooh Archons, that feels a bit better,” Xingqiu muttered as he shifted slightly. His stomach is still killing him and the nausea is still relentlessly crashing over him in waves, but the pressure that’d been squeezing at his stomach relentlessly like a rubber band eases up ever so slightly.

Chongyun takes a deep breath, doing his best to imagine the cold mountain cliffs of dragonspine in an effort to keep himself calm and under uncontrol. Then he reaches out again, gently placing his hand on Xingqiu’s stomach and he can’t help but be surprised by what he feels there, his eyes widening in shock.

The taunt heaviness of Xingqiu’s stomach presses back against his hand, the contents sloshing and swirling under his touch like a warm water balloon. The area is very soft and plush, jiggly almost at the moment, but Chongyun can feel the tension and tightness lurking beneath the surface completely packed with a combination of liquid and food.

It gurgles loudly as it sloshes and shifts practically rippling beneath Chongyun’s fingers sounding a lot like a pot of water threatening to boil over as it does its best to break everything stuffed inside of it down. Chongyun would be lying if he said it wasn’t at least somewhat morbidly fascinating, especially since he can’t remember a time he’s ever seen Xingqiu eat this much food.

Xingqiu grimaces, his body tensing up and his eyes squeezing shut as he writhes for a moment in Chongyun’s lap and Chongyun can’t help but cringe in sympathy when Xingqiu’s stomach makes a harsh, tense gurgling noise practically screaming at Xingqiu for putting himself in this condition.

Gritting his teeth Xingqiu sighs before opening his eyes ever so slightly for a moment. “I’m fine, you can keep going,” he reassured Chongyun softly giving the other boy a small nod as he spoke before closing his eyes once more.

“Right,” Chongyun murmured more than a little concerned by Xingqiu’s current state and unable to stop himself from feeling a bit guilty over his thoughts from earlier.

Despite Xingqiu’s reassurance, Chongyun is still hesitant as he applies a bit more pressure glancing at Xingqiu’s face for any type of change that would tell him it was too much. However, there is none, as Xingqiu simply lays there breathing deeply and his eyes closed, in fact, if Chongyun didn’t know any bettered he’d swear Xingqiu had drifted off to sleep somehow.

“How did this happen,” Chongyun asked as he began to move his hand carefully along Xingqiu’s stomach. Chongyun’s fingers sink ever so slightly into the currently plush skin, he can feel his stomach shifting beneath his fingertips as it sloshed and swirled, loud, tense gurgling noises coming from it as it does its damnedest to digest everything, its wriggling, and rippling reminding Chongyun all too much of a water balloon.

Xingqiu’s skin was soft and warm as well, Chongyun knew this better than anyone but this is different it's squishy almost not unpleasant to the touch either. And Chongyun can’t help but glance away briefly, his heart pounding slightly in his chest when Xingqiu moans softly, shifting a bit as he tries to lean into Chongyun’s touch clearly chasing relief.

Chongyun naturally ran colder than most people, and sometimes when Xingqiu got a bad migraine Chongyun would place a hand on the back of his neck which always seemed to help a bit, neither of them knew why truthfully, it just did. And it seemed to be helping Xingqiu’s stomach ache a bit as well thankfully.

Xingqiu muffled a soft hiccup into his hand before giving a soft huff and shaking his head. “I ate too much,” he murmured despite the answer being very obvious considering his current state.

At his words the look on Chongyun’s face becomes one of sympathy, he knows better than anyone that Xingqiu isn’t a person who overindulges on food, especially not to this level so Chongyun knows that he must’ve had little to no choice to do so. “I know that must’ve been very hard for you,” Chongyun told him, his tone gentle and soft barely above a whisper as if he’s afraid of disturbing this moment between them.

It honestly feels as if they’re in their own little world at the moment and under different circumstances they both would’ve definitely enjoyed it a lot more. Still, they’d both be lying if they didn’t admit that just being alone in one another’s presence was soothing enough.

Xingqiu cracks his eyes open slightly, giving a soft snort, the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “After the first plate of food, it was already too much. I just…figured he’d take the hint at some point.” While his words are seemingly harsh Chongyun can tell that Xingqiu is more venting his frustrations than actually angry considering there’s no venom in his voice.

Chongyun nodded as he continued to rub Xingqiu’s stomach, his fingers moving slowly as he carefully works his way down the soft expanse of Xingqiu’s stomach, doing his best not to think about how soft the skin there is. His fingers apply the slightest bit of firm pressure in an effort to ease some of the tightness and cramping in Xingqiu’s stomach. It gurgles loudly beneath his fingers sounding as if it were a pot of water on a stove threatening to boil over.

“You really did eat a lot,” Chongyun muttered almost absentmindedly as he worked a slight scowl on his face. Xingqiu nodded slightly, his eyes still closed as he does his best to ignore the waves of nausea relentlessly rolling over him, swirling and churning fiercely in the pit of his stomach. He felt as if his lungs could barely expand all the way, the mass of food sat in the near lake of water in his gut like a sunk rock, creating a horrible tightness and pressure in his gut that only served to fuel the ache there.

“Most of it was carrots too…” Xingqiu mumbled then shuddered slightly, swallowing thickly when the thought had a wave of disgust and cold almost slimy nausea washes over him making his stomach slosh sickeningly. A low slurred groan leaves his lips as he shifts slightly in some vain attempt to get comfortable once more, but it's easier said than done in his current state.

“Maybe some qingxin water would help with the cramping,” Chongyun suggested as he looked at Xingqiu, his hand stilling for a moment on his stomach. With his hand like this Xingqiu can feel just how upset it is, as the overfilled organ ripples and writhes into his touch, tense almost pained gurgling noises coming from it.

Xingqiu groans as he shakes his head however, a nauseated sounding hiccup leaving his mouth at the mere thought of drinking or eating anything at the moment. And he swallows thickly almost frantically when he feels the mass of food brush against the walls of his stomach making his nausea spike sharply, “Even if I wanted to I can’t fit anything else in my stomach right now.”

“Right,” Chongyun said nodding as he scowled slightly.

As his fingers move to the top of Xingqiu’s stomach he finds a rather tense spot right in the center, as he gently presses on it Chongyun freezes, nearly pulling his hand back and his eyes going wide when Xingqiu moans at the sensation.

The way Xingqiu's eyes flutter slightly and he leans into Chongyun’s touch, his back arching ever so slightly. The way Xingqiu’s lips part, the slight pink blush dusting his cheeks all of it, has Chongyun’s heart pounding like a drum in his chest and some part of him can’t help but vaguely wonder if Xingqiu knows what he’s doing.

Xingqiu opened his eyes slightly, a faint scowl on his face. “Hm? Why did you stop,” he asked confusion coating his voice.

“Um...I need a moment please,” Chongyun told him quickly glancing away embarrassed. He needed to calm down for the sake of his sanity, Archon knows what would happen if he actually allowed the heat to overwhelm him.

Xingqiu gives a soft snort, a small smile spreading across his face as he reached out gently grabbing Chongyun’s hand and guiding it back to his stomach. “I promise you, you’re not hurting me. If anything it feels really nice and it’s helping so please keep going,” he reassured him giving Chongyun’s hand a soft squeeze, and waiting until Chongyun slowly nodded before he released his hand and closed his eyes once more.

Xingqiu is telling the truth honestly, Chongyun’s touch is incredibly soothing and feels so, so nice. This was good, Xingqiu would be able to keep everything down, he just had to get his stomach to settle, and then he could just pass out in bed next to Chongyun and when he woke up everything would be digested.

In Xingqiu’s mind throwing everything up wasn’t an option for multiple reasons, not only was it something disgusting and unsightly but he also felt like he’d be spitting in the face of his father’s friend if he did.

The man had clearly worked hard on the food he brought over and had been rather eager to share them with Xingqiu’s family during the dinner, it was another reason Xingqiu had found it so hard to decline when the man offered him extra as well. So he had no other option but to force everything down and keep it down, he just had to, the thought of not being able to keep everything down made a sensation of guilt well up in Xingqiu’s chest.

Chongyun is so focused on trying to calm down that he accidentally applies a bit too much pressure to one of the tighter sensitive spots on Xingqiu’s stomach, causing Xingqiu’s body to slightly as he muffled a loud, almost wet sounding hiccup into his hand.

“S-sorry,” Chongyun told him quickly as his hand on Xingqiu’s stomach froze.

Xingqiu is quiet for a few moments, his eyes closed and his hand still hovering over his mouth as he does his best to take slow deep breaths in to try and calm the dizzying waves of nausea washing over him and swirling like a whirlpool in his stomach. He hiccups again and can faintly taste the horrible disgusting taste of carrots at the back of his throat which does his nausea no favors.

A dull ache shooting across the expanse of his stomach with each breath as its contents sloshed inside of him in a sickening fashion that had Xingqiu’s bloated stomach hitching slightly, the back of his throat spasming slightly as he did his best not to gag. It had to stay down it, just had to.

“Xingqiu,” Chongyun said after a moment, more than a little concerned when he sees some of the color drain away from Xingqiu’s face not to mention the fact that his stomach is gurgling so loudly it sounds almost as if it’s snarling. The organ clearly upset and in pain and Chongyun can see Xingqiu’s stomach hitching ever so slightly, nearly spasming.

Chongyun hears Xingqiu take a deep breath and swallow audibly before he exhaled, slowly lowering his hand from his mouth panting softly his eyes still closed and his face pale. He looks completely and utterly nauseated making Chongyun feel a bit weary. Xingqiu gives a soft groan, his face twisting in pain when that deep ache that had been settled in his stomach intensifies sharply alongside the swirling nausea sloshing in his stomach.

Xingqiu opens his eyes slightly and looked at Chongyun. “I’m alright,” he murmured softly as his body gradually relaxed once more although he’s still panting ever so slightly. “Please keep going.”

Chongyun is silent for a moment as he stares at Xingqiu, but eventually, he nods. As Chongyun begins rubbing his stomach again, his touches are more hesitant at first, slow as if he’s still afraid of hurting Xingqiu. But eventually, when Xingqiu seems to become more comfortable under his touch, Chongyun begins to relax more as well allowing his fingers to move carefully along Xingqiu’s stomach as he does his best to massage out any of the cramps and tightness he finds there.

Xingqiu’s eyes are closed as he tries his best to pay attention to Chongyun’s hands on his stomach and how nice the sensation feels on his stomach, instead of the fact that he can faintly taste carrots lingering in the back of his throat threatening to make him gag. He tries to ignore the waves of cold slimy nausea intensely washing over him relentlessly in waves.

His stomach is sloshing violently, its contents brushing against his walls with each breath he took feeling like a pot of boiling water threatening to overflow.

Xingqiu swallows thickly feeling the back of his throat spasming slightly threatening to make him gag. At some point Chongyun’s once soothing touches begin to only exacerbate Xingqiu’s nausea, his stomach sloshing in the directions Chongyun moved his fingers.

Chongyun realizes it before Xingqiu does surprisingly, a scowling on his face as he watches the color gradually drain from Xingqiu’s face over time, the way his throat bobs as his swallowing becomes more frequent and frantic, the way his breathing began to shudder ever so slightly signaling that he was rapidly losing his battle against the nausea assaulting him.

Before Chongyun can say anything however Xingqiu suddenly grabs his wrist with a trembling hand. “W-wait…please…” he told him, his voice wavering. Xingqiu slowly sits up, wrapping his arm around his stomach with a groan as the color rapidly drains from his face and he swallows frantically the noise audible in between his hushed panting.

“Hold on,” Chongyun told him, not even bothering to ask Xingqiu if he felt sick or not considering the answer was obvious. And even if Xingqiu was going to deny it, the harsh sickly gurgling noise his stomach was making sounding like an overactive cauldron was more than enough proof to contradict him.

Xingqiu is quiet for a few moments, merely panting softly as he tries to swallow back all of the saliva suddenly rapidly flooding his mouth, a slurred groan leaving his mouth when the action of Chongyun getting up from the bed jostles his stomach slightly. “I-I…I’m alright…” Xingqiu manages to force out in between his shuddering breaths his voice wavering. He freezes however clamping his lips shut when the mass of food and water seems to flip inside of his stomach.

It sloshes violently as though someone were violently shaking his stomach like a water balloon and Xingqiu screws his eyes shut curling further in on himself, one hand clamped over his mouth and the other rubbing at his stomach in some desperate last-ditch attempt to get it to settle. He couldn’t be sick he just couldn’t, he wasn’t scared of vomiting at all but the fact that he wouldn’t be able to keep the food down, the food that the guest had worked so hard on, definitely stung and had a combination of guilt and shame welling up in his chest.

However, between the way his stomach is violently writhing under his own hand practically rippling as it growls and gurgles the mass of food shifting in his stomach, along with the way it hitches and clenches slightly as if trying to squeeze its contents out, lets Xingqiu know that no matter how much he may hate it, his stomach isn’t going to settle in this state.

“Here,” Chongyun told him as he held out the trashcan for him. As Xingqiu took it with trembling hands whimpering softly, Chongyun sat beside him on the bed once more, resting a gentle hand on his back. “It’s alright. Just do your best to get it up, you should feel better afterwards.”

Xingqiu groaned weakly, sniffling as he raised his head a bit to look at Chongyun. “There’s…no reason for you to stay here for this…its gross. Just…leave me alone for a few moments please…” he managed to tell Chongyun as he panted over the trash can. He feels absolutely mortified at the moment, even more so when he feels drool leaking from his mouth all of it becoming too much to swallow back at this point, and Xingqiu quickly buries his face in the trash can as if to hide it as his face burns with embarrassment and shame.

He sticks his tongue out allowing the drool gathering in his mouth to trickle off of it, considering swallowing it is only adding to the sensation of fullness in his stomach as well as the fact that it feels strangely heavy on his tongue.

He feels Chongyun’s hand move gently along his back, in slow but soothing circles. “I want to stay here with you and help you feel better however I can,” Chongyun told him and Xingqiu can instantly tell from the familiar stubborn tone in Chongyun’s voice that nothing he says will persuade him.

In response to his words, Xingqiu merely groans softly as he sniffles, drool rapidly trickling from his lips into the trash can. “This is bad…” Xingqiu whispered softly, more to himself than Chongyun. “All that food is going to waste…he worked so hard on everything.”

Talking is Xingqiu’s mistake, however, considering that just breathing had him ready to gag seconds before and his body suddenly tenses up, shuddering as he lurches forward gagging emptily over the trashcan drool a torrent of drool pouring from his mouth.

He can’t help but internally cringe at the vile, harsh-sounding noise his face burning with embarrassment. “S-sorry,” he whispered softly as he sniffled blinking back the tears that gathered in his eyes from the force of the gagging. He feels as if he can barely breathe with the dizzying, overwhelming waves of nausea crashing over him, an uncomfortable heat prickling at his skin as his stomach gurgled almost viscously.

Chongyun shakes his head despite Xingqiu doing his best not to meet his gaze at the moment. “It’s fine, besides you can’t help it,” he murmured as he continued to rub his back feeling Xingqiu trembling slightly beneath his touch.

Xingqiu however merely whimpered in response, his breathing shuddering as he closed his eyes the nausea leaving him feeling lightheaded and weak. A soft slurred groan leaves his slightly parted lips along with more drool, he knows what Chongyun is saying is true but some part of him just can’t accept it.

Chongyun can see it as well as Xingqiu sits there slightly slumped over the trash can, the almost dazed look on his face as the last bit of color drains from it, the way his bloated stomach spasms and hitches causing his body to tense up slightly, the soft shuddering breaths along with the drool dripping from his lips, Chongyun can clearly see that Xingqiu is fighting tooth and nail to keep everything inside of him, and Chongyun would be lying if he didn’t admit that it was worrying and a bit disturbing.

Xingqiu’s stomach heaves slightly and while Xingqiu is slightly prepared for that what he is not prepared for is the taste of a splash of slimy, bitter carrot-tinged bile to coat the back of his tongue. That taste is the straw that breaks the camel's back and Xingqiu simply can’t hold it down any longer.

He freezes for the briefest moment, his eyes going incredibly wide as his breathing hitches then he lurches forward with a violent, harsh, absolutely guttural retch that has a surge of murky, mostly watery vomit spraying from his mouth and nose. The souplike mixture splashes heavily into the trash can, sounding like someone pouring a bunch of water into a bucket as Xingqiu is left violently spluttering and coughing wetly as he gasps for air his eyes glassy with tears.

It stings and burns the inside of his nose so, so badly each breath feeling like sandpaper scrapping over his sinuses. His stomach is absolutely killing him feeling as if someone just set off fireworks inside of it, his face burns fiercely with shame and he feels utterly mortified.

However, he gets no chance to breathe as a loud, gurgling burp tears from his lips, the noise becoming garbled and incredibly wet on the tail end as Xingqiu’s stomach immediately heaves again desperate to rid itself of all the food stuffed inside of it. He lurches forward again as a surge of thick, semi watery orangish-brown vomit poured from his lips as if someone had uncorked a wine bottle.

“There you are, you’re doing good. Just get it all up and you’ll feel better soon,” Chongyun murmured trying to reassure Xingqiu in any way he can his hand still rubbing soothing circles on Xingqiu’s back, feeling his back curve and tense with every heave.

While Xingqiu clearly can’t speak at the moment he does manage to give Chongyun a weak, groan garbled by the vomit surging up his throat and Chongyun feels Xingqiu lean into the hand Chongyun has on his back.

Chongyun reaches out with his other hand, gently brushing Xingqiu’s hair away from his face, unable to stop himself from cringing when a loud, sickly sounding glorping noise comes from Xingqiu’s stomach. A violent rumbling retch tore from Xingqiu’s lips along with a torrent of drool, his eyes glassy and glazed over with tears as he leaned over the trash can his throat spasming slightly with weak gags as his body did its best to bring everything up.

A loud burp leaves Xingqiu’s parted lips, the noise echoing almost, right before an enormous wave of incredibly thick, lumpy faintly watery poured from his lips. The mess splatters heavily into the trash can, the chunky oatmeal-like slurry practically congealing into a clump in the watery vomit already inside the trashcan.

Chongyun can’t help but be concerned at how violent Xingqiu sounds as he’s throwing up, it sounds almost as if he were drowning, every breath wet and desperate, garbled by liquid as even more vomit poured from his lips. From what Chongyun can see a lot of what Xingqiu is bringing up is both water and also coming up mostly whole.

Xingqiu gives one final loud, wet, sick sounding, gurgling burp as his bloated stomach heaves violently sending up another thick, large wave of vomit adding to the growing mess of his undigested dinner in the trashcan as it steadily pours for his mouth for a few moments before gradually tapering off.

Eventually, Xingqiu slumps forward a bit with a loud sigh, his body trembling, completely exhausted and spent. Tears running down his face as he coughs softly and pants, his face pale as a sheet, he barely manages to muffle the soft hiccups still leaving his mouth as his stomach continues to cramp and hitch ever so slightly, still unsettled, a dull ache shooting across it.

Pure shame and humiliation feel etched into his very soul so much so that he doesn’t do anything when Chongyun takes the trash can from him, his gaze on the floor. Chongyun eventually comes back after a few moments and joins him on the bed once more, however after such a shameful display Xingqiu can bring himself to raise his head to look at him, especially not when his face is a mess of tears, drool and vomit of all things.

So he can’t help but struggle slightly when Chongyun cups his cheek and tilts his face up to look at him. “Stop…I’m a mess. Don’t touch me,” Xingqiu protested softly, his voice is completely shot from his vomiting episode carrying an abnormal rough rasp to it.

Chongyun doesn’t release him, however, although much to Xingqiu’s surprise he does pinch his cheek rather swiftly making Xingqiu jump slightly. “H-Hey!”

“Good, you seemed a bit out of it. I’m going to clean your face alright,” Chongyun told him with a slight smile.

Xingqiu merely blinks for a moment and that is when he notices the wet rag Chongyun is holding in his other hand. “Oh,” Xingqiu whispered, then he sighed softly closing his eyes.

A soft sigh of relief leaves Xingqiu’s mouth and he practically melts into Chongyun’s touch when he feels the sensation of the soft cold rag gently rubbing at his face. Both of them are quiet as Chongyun works, Xingqiu because he’s still incredibly embarrassed not to mention exhausted and in pain while Chongyun is quiet because he’s focused on his task.

Although his heart does admittedly flutter slightly in his chest when he gently brushes Xingqiu’s hair back and away from his face so he can continue cleaning his face, Chongyun’s grip on the cloth tightening slightly when Xingqiu nuzzles his hand a bit causing Chongyun to briefly glance away his heart almost racing in his chest.

Eventually, Chongyun finishes his task setting the rag aside with a scowl as he looks back at Xingqiu noticing the slight grimace tugging at his features. “Do you need anything,” he asked him.

Xingqiu is quiet for a moment before eventually nodding, he slowly met Chongyun’s gaze. “Can you…please rub my stomach again? It was helping a lot before,” he asked almost hesitantly.

It’s admittedly kinda strange to Chongyun to see Xingqiu’s usual personality so muted but at the same Chongyun is a but used to it considering this was just how Xingqiu tended to act when he was sick or didn’t feel well. He became quieter, a bit withdrawn.

Chongyun nodded a smile spreading across his face. “Sure, if it’ll help.” He reaches out gently grabbing Xingqiu’s shoulders as he guided him to lay back so that his head was in his lap. “Comfortable,” Chongyun asked when Xingqiu was seemingly settled in.

Xingqiu merely nodded still sniffling softly, admittedly he does feel as if he can breathe a lot easier now that all the food is out of him although his stomach is sore and still aching quite a bit. His sinuses a still stinging a bit as well and that rancid taste is still faint in his mouth. But right he just wants comfort more than anything.

Chongyun smiles slightly as he places a hand on Xingqiu’s bare stomach being a bit surprised by what he finds. “It’s gone down quite a bit,” he murmured almost thoughtfully as he allowed his fingers to glide over Xingqiu’s stomach for a moment. The difference was like night and day truthfully.

He meets Xingqiu’s gaze. “Please let me know if I’m hurting you at all alright.” Chongyun waits until Xingqiu nods slightly before he begins gently rubbing Xingqiu’s stomach, his smile growing when a soft sigh of relief leaves Xingqiu’s lips and he leans slightly into Chongyun’s soothing touch.

Chongyun’s cool hand on his stomach, combined with the soothing massage and the exhaustion settled over him has Xingqiu practically melting under his touch.

It’s so soothing and relaxing that the pain Xingqiu was experiencing moments before seems to slowly disappear into nothing and very soon it becomes a struggle for him to actually keep his eyes open. He feels Chongyun’s hand still on his stomach for a moment as Chongyun’s other hand runs through his hair. “You should get some rest, you deserve it.”

After Chongyun speaks unsurprisingly it isn’t long before Xingqiu drifts off to sleep.

#emetophilia #emeto fic #Genshin emeto #My writing #chongyun genshin impact #xingqiu genshin impact #chongyun x xingqiu #genshin impact #fluff #belly rubs #accidental overstuffing #accidental stuffing

27 notes · View notes

smiting-finger · 3 years ago

Text

alive, and back on my usual nonsense

So after getting preoccupied with other things and temporarily falling off the face of the planet (for like an entire year ಥωಥ), I was thinking about the kdrama Mr. Queen (which I've been meaning to watch), and the Chinese novel it was based on (太子妃升职记, which I read a few years ago and very much enjoyed), and this popped out--

Wei Wuxian’s first thought is that there seem to be an awful lot of female voices around, for a bedroom inhabited by two men. Did he drink too much last night? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s overindulged on a trip to the town and woken up in a strange place the next morning, but that kind of problem has been cropping up a lot less frequently now that he has Lan Zhan around to ferry him home.

(Sometimes literally, on his back. His broad, strong--)

But perhaps Lan Zhan had gotten drunk, too? In which case, Wei Wuxian should consider them lucky to have woken up surrounded by people, rather than chickens, rabbits or, notably, on one occasion, mounds of resentful cabbages.

The chatter around him continues, pitched high with youth and - is that anxiety? It's interspersed with the odd interjection from what sounds like one (calmer, if more exasperated) older woman and a man. Probably not a nunnery, he decides. Perhaps the back rooms of a pleasure house? Although, if that’s the case, this amount of excitement over a mere two men is honestly a little excessive.

He reaches out tentatively, but pats all the way across the mattress to the edge without finding his usual bedfellow. A much less tentative venture towards the other side produces similar results.

Hm.

Wei Wuxian cracks open an eye and heaves himself upright, absent-mindedly scratching at his (unusually soft - as much as he hates to admit it, maybe Nie Huaisang has a point about drinking less and training more) side and squinting into the too-bright light until the person-shaped blur in front of him sharpens into focus.

“Niang niang!” a complete stranger cries tearfully, clutching at the sleeve of his other arm. “You’re awake! Thank Heavens, you’re awake! Physician Liu, quick, quick!”

A cushion is produced from somewhere and thrust expectantly between Wei Wuxian and the elderly man sitting at his bedside.

He sighs. It’s probably not worth fighting.

Wei Wuxian smacks his upturned wrist onto the unusually lavish brocade and is only a little surprised when it’s covered by a cloth before the physician reaches to take it.

(Do they think he’s diseased?)

((Is he diseased?!))

(((Is that why Lan Zhan isn’t here?)))

He looks at the row of young girls (+ 1 matron) kneeling along the wall to his left, dressed identically to the first and also now beginning to prostrate themselves and wail about “Niang niang!” and blessings and deserving to die.

Not a pleasure house, then.

He looks around at the rest of the richly-furnished room and its intricately-carved wooden furniture, the wealth of jade carvings and the obscene amount of gold that's gilding … everything (so shiny). The opulence of it all would put even Jin Guangshan to shame.

So, not a nunnery either.

He looks down at the small hands, delicate wrists and - he clutches one abruptly just to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him - breasts of the body that he certainly was not inhabiting yesterday.

“Well,” he says aloud, unable to stop himself from wincing at the high, soft voice that emerges despite fully expecting it. “It’s not the first time this has happened.”

===

Two days, one diagnosis of shock-induced memory loss and some discreet enquiries (as well as some indiscreet enquiries) later, this is what he knows about his situation:

He’s the main consort (unfavoured) of the crown prince of whatever place he’s landed in;

Three days ago, following a disagreement with one Consort Yun (favoured, main competitor for husband’s affections);

In the course of this disagreement, both women somehow fell into a palace lake and mostly-drowned;

Consort Yun (admittedly quite pretty) was revived at the scene, but Wei Wuxian took a full day to “miraculously” recover;

Angered by the unseemly behaviour of her daughters-in-law, particularly upon learning that the Crown Princess’s first act upon waking was to stumble upon a chance meeting between the Crown Prince and Consort Yun in one of the pleasure gardens and bodily throw herself between them (a tactical error on Wei Wuxian’s part. He’d been trying to throw himself over the battlements to freedom, but he’d gotten lost and scaled the wrong wall), the Empress (Crown Prince’s political opponent, not particularly fond of either consort) grounded both of them to their respective residences for a month, with no visitors allowed.

Which brings him to his current position, feeding the fish in his personal pond as an excuse to be alone. Not truly alone - he shoots a pointed glance at the maids watching anxiously from the other side of the courtyard - because he’s apparently a “suicide risk” now (and honestly, yes, he’d meant to throw himself off that roof, but he hadn’t meant to die - it’s simply that this new body’s cultivation level is not what he’s come to expect even from Mo Xuanyu’s modest abilities), but alone enough to start planning his next move.

Direct escape is out - he didn’t have a plan for what to do once he’d gotten out anyway, and honestly he’s better-resourced for finding out how he got here in the Palace than anywhere else, so it’s no great loss.

“What do you think, Master Fish?” Wei Wuxian asks a gold and black spotted koi with particularly sage-looking whiskers. “Shall I just stay here for the time being?”

It’s not a terrible place to be for the time being, he must admit, throwing more food into the water and watching the fish swarm. Being grounded, he’s at no risk from the Crown Prince’s amorous attentions for a month (a salute of gratitude to the Empress for the inadvertent protection). And thanks to Consort Yun and her voluptuous figure (and if the Crown Prince is more partial to that than the Zhao Feiyan style of willowy fragility that Wei Wuxian seems to have inherited, who can honestly blame him?), he’s at no great risk from them after that, either (a salute of gratitude to the unknowing sister-in-arms, taking one - and hopefully a great many more after that - for the team).

According to his maid (sleeve-clutcher extraordinaire, who even now is boring two holes into his skull with her woeful gaze from across the way while he does nothing more suspicious than scatter another handful of feed towards some latercomer fish), the body he’s inhabiting comes from a powerful military lineage. In particular, her father is (was?) a powerful general who currently commands more than half the nation’s military forces and has the absolute trust of the Emperor. So that more or less keeps him safe from the machinations of the majority of the nest of vipers in this palatial cesspit.

That just leaves the Empress, who - if his servants and the smuggled letters from the Original Goods’s mother (a salute of gratitude to the worthy woman for spelling it out so that even such an interloper as he can understand) are anything to go by - would definitely kill him to damage the Crown Prince’s political standing or throw any sort of roadblock in the way of him from becoming Emperor.

Less immediately - if his secret informants are anything to go by (a salute of gratitude to the resourceful host for cultivating such a valuable resource if not her dantian) - it also leaves the Crown Prince, who, upon cementing his power as Emperor, would also definitely kill his current Crown Princess in order to wedge his beloved Consort Yun into the Empress role.

Really, the only road to any sort of security for someone in his position is to raise the next Imperial heir, outlive the Original Goods’s faithless husband and become the Empress Dowager.

Hopefully Wei Wuxian will be long gone by then, but if leaving means the Original Goods will return (from … Mo Xuanyu’s body? The Ether? Or???) - well, he doesn’t want to repay her hospitality by leaving her house in a mess, so to speak. So he’ll try to set her on that career path, if he can.

But that’s an aspirational goal. First, he has to not-die before he can find out how to get himself home.

And find out how to get himself home.

If getting himself home is even possible.

Wei Wuxian dumps the rest of the fish food in the water and yells.

(It startles the maids, the fish and the poor eunuch the Crown Prince has sent as a spy into falling out of the tree he’s been hiding in and into the prickly bushes below.)

===

The problem with “staying for the time being” is … well, how interminably boring it is. The approved list of hobbies for an Imperial consort seems to consist of: eating (but not too much), sleeping (but not too much), embroidery (which he can’t do), reading (but only texts on female virtue and the occasional terrible novel), playing music (but not the flute), conversing with his maids (who are very sweet, but are all like, 12) and walking in the gardens (which he’s not allowed to do).

Honestly, it’s no wonder all the consorts turn to scheming and murder.

It only takes a week of confinement for him to snap and sneak himself out for a nighttime adventure, setting off to explore the grounds and see … a night-blooming flower, a ghost, a rat, he’ll take pretty much anything at this point.

In the end, he finds none of these things, but the walking is still pretty nice, and he even hears the faint sounds of a guqin wafting over from one of the other consorts’ residences. (He should probably learn who lives where at some point, but it’s not exactly a priority. What’s he going to do with the information when he can only visit during the nighttime? Peep?) When Wei Wuxian wanders closer, the notes resolve themselves into the familiar strains of Flowing Waters, and his breath catches on a sudden surge of longing to hear the same song, played by a different set of fingers.

(First played on a familiar guqin and then, later, accompanied by soft humming between soft, worn sheets, played across the edges of Wei Wuxian’s ribs, along the dip of his spine, and finally lower, into--)

((Is Lan Zhan thinking about him?))

(((Is Lan Zhan looking for him?)))

Stumbling blindly on, he’s so caught up in missing Lan Zhan that he misses the first few stanzas of the next piece, and it isn’t until the music starts to rise in a familiar refrain that he freezes.

He knows that song.

He’s one of the only two people who know that song, which is in fact how he got caught out the last time he found himself in a farce of an identity charade, by the only other person who knows that song, who must be - who must be -

Lan Zhan, his blood sings in his ears as he takes off in a dead run towards the source of the playing. Up ahead of him, small courtyard glows softly with the light of the only burning lamp in their vicinity. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan-

He scrambles up the wall with the ease of a lifetime’s practice, using bloody-minded determination to make up for the lack of muscle memory.

“Lan Zhan,” he yelps, forgetting to whisper in his excitement as he flings himself over the top and into the branches of a convenient, wall-side tree. “Lan Zhan, it’s me, I-”

This is, naturally, when his foot slips. He manages to catch hold of a branch, but his tender hands and puny wrists, unused to holding up anything heavier than a chicken leg, fail to maintain their hold through his weight, and he tumbles down the trunk into a sad puddle of fabric on the ground.

“Lan Zhan,” he gasps, fighting to untangle himself from the ridiculous train that, admittedly, made a considerable contribution to cushioning his fall. He clambers up onto his hands and knees--

--and looks straight into the wide-eyed stare of Consort Yun.

===

“I cannot believe,” Wei Wuxian growls, palming the ample softness of one exposed breast with one hand, while shoving the other deeper into the many (too many) layers of fabric between them and between Lan Zhan’s splayed legs, “that after everything that’s happened, you’re still taller than me.”

Lan Zhan huffs a laugh that turns quickly into a moan, and Wei Wuxian swallows it, smothers Lan Zhan’s gasping breaths with his own parted lips and sucks them greedily down even as he coaxes out more with twisting fingers here, another tug to Lan Zhan’s poor, abused nipple there.

He slides his fingers back between slick folds and then upwards again, pushing in and out in a few languid strokes before curling them to make Lan Zhan arch harder against the wall behind him, tilt his head back and expose a beautifully vulnerable stretch of neck to Wei Wuxian's teeth.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmurs, and his voice is different, the shape of his lips is different, but the way Wei Wuxian’s name fits inside his mouth (tender, beloved), the way he tucks the flyaway strands of hair behind Wei Wuxian’s ear, the look in his eyes when their gazes meet (warm, open, knowing) are the same, same, same.

===

I am entirely too lazy to write the rest of it, but afterwards they regroup and it turns out LWJ has been in this world for exactly one more day than WWX, having woken up in Consort Yun’s body when she was “revived”. Consort Yun is the daughter of a high-ranking Minister in the Treasury or something, so Lan Zhan been using his new position as the daughter of a ~scholarly family~ to build a reputation for being really into Buddhist scripture, and eventually he’s going to request to be allowed to go to a nearby Temple to attain some virtuous brownie points for the Imperial family via prayer as his penitence.

That there’s also an elderly monk living there who’s got a reputation for being super good with the divine mysteries and spiritual lore about curses and whatnot is totally immaterial, if Lan Zhan happens to run into that guy, it’ll be a total coincidence, yeah.

So WWX also starts on the divine penitence route, and if everyone thinks it’s because the Crown Princess refuses to be outdone by Consort Yun, then even better, and two weeks into confinement they wear the Empress down into letting them make the trip, and when they get there, turns out the monk is Nie Huaisang.

(NHS: “OH THANK GOD, I’ve done the research but the lynchpin of this mess is definitely somewhere in the Palace and I could not for the life of me figure out a way to get in.”

WWX: “That's nice, but seriously, how come you got to stay a man?”

NHS: “My friend, I may be a man, but my balls are currently swinging somewhere around my ankles.”

WWX: “...show me.”

And LWJ is like “NO.” except WWX can tell by the look in his eye that he sort of wants to see, too).

So they return to the Palace and WWX whirls into one of their morning audiences with the Empress, distraught about a ~dream from the ancestors~ where they warned him about disrupted ley lines or accumulated resentment or an offended minor god that needs investigation by someone, and “How convenient, because we met just the guy!” And the Empress looks like she was Done Five Years Ago, but the Empress Dowager, who’s old and doddery, is like “oh no, you must bring him!” and the Empress mutters “to fucking what, offend some major gods and really do the job properly?” and that’s how they find out the Empress is Jiang Cheng.

In the meantime, the confinement edict expires and WWX+LWJ are allowed to return to their regular programming, which means that as the legal wife, WWX can continuously summon LWJ to his residence for increasingly tenuous and spurious reasons. The best thing is, it’s not even out of character for the Crown Princess, who used to regularly summon Consort Yun to subject her to not-so-veiled barbs and petty torments. So WWX summons LWJ, and then immediately expels both their entourages from the room, instructing that no one is to enter on pain of death.

So LWJ’s maids are gnashing their teeth helplessly while all sorts of piteous moans, pained gasps and the occasional scream emanate from behind the closed door, and when their mistress finally emerges there are no marks on her body, but she’s weak-kneed and having trouble walking straight, so who knows what kind of terrible tortures the Crown Princess has visited upon her.

The Crown Prince obviously hears about this, so he bursts in one day without warning, only to find the two sitting together, the Crown princess’s arms around Consort Yun’s waist, her cheek pillowed on one heaving bosom, and although she’s smiling besottedly at him now, he could have sworn that he felt killing intent being directed at him only a second ago? And to tell the truth, he’s not really in love Consort Yun either, it’s all an act to keep the two consorts (and their families) pitted in a power struggle against each other until he can finally outmanoeuvre the Empress and cement his position as heir to the throne (and also to protect his actual favourite, a third consort who’s a nondescript nobody with no political backing). So the fact that “It was all a misunderstanding, we’re friends now,” his Crown Princess says sweetly (and did she … rub her cheek against his Consort’s chest? Must be his imagination) is not the worst thing (at least neither of them/their families can be enlisted by the Empress in support of her son, and if they’re caught up with Being Besties, then at least they’re not bullying his actual favourite), but for some reason he still feels kind of … threatened? Like someone’s making moves on his wife, which is absurd because they’re both his wives, but the vibes he gets from the first one in particular are kind of … off?

In any case, the crew solve the mystery, find the lynchpin object (which turns out to be a jade dildo belonging to one of the Emperor’s favoured consorts because of course it is), and wake up in their real bodies, in their real world, to a very apologetic hermit-inventor-cultivator whose property they stumbled onto while pursuing a resentful beast. Turns out they triggered the glamour/enchantment/psychic maze world he created as a security system because, “I just didn’t want to risk people getting into my stuff, you know? I’ve got some things that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands”. WWX is like “oh yeah, for sure” and JC is like “WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOR SURE? HOW IS THIS AN UNDERSTANDABLE RESPONSE, IF YOU’RE AFRAID PEOPLE WILL TOUCH YOUR SHIT THEN JUST ENCHANT SOME FUCKING WARRIOR GOLEMS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.”

#CQL #The Untamed #mo dao zu shi #Wangxian #fic #not-fic

68 notes · View notes

walviemort · 3 years ago

Text

Fairy Godfather, part 2

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! This is kind of consuming me so you’ll be getting these pretty often, I hope! thanks to @sancocnutclub for all her encouragement ;)

rated T / 2.2k words / part 1 / AO3

He didn’t wake until mid morning the next day, and was still fairly fatigued, but otherwise felt alright—just a bit tender about the middle.

A shower helped dissolve most of the lingering soreness, and he took some time in front of the mirror to look for any changes.

Given that his stomach had never returned to its previous hardened state, it was hard to notice any discernible change in shape, but when he poked around, there was definitely a rounded area that hadn’t been there before.

He also took a moment to memorize his body as it was; it wouldn’t be long before the babes made their presence visibly known, and the changes that happened while pregnant with Hope were still fresh in his mind. He was both glad that Belle was keeping track of his stats, and already dreading it.

But she was probably waiting for him, so he needed to get a move on—and something to eat; he was starting to feel peckish, but couldn’t tell whether or not it was more than usual.

His normal jeans still fit comfortably, albeit a hair snug. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d relish it while it did. At least his shirts would last longer; he’d found a new appreciation for the forgiving cotton knits of this realm in his second trimester.

Emma was already at the station when he got downstairs, but she’d left behind plenty of pancakes, and he ate a few more than normal; he wasn’t sure how to interpret that.

Before heading to the library, he went to pick up Hope from her sleepover with her grandparents. David greeted him at the door, with tiny Ruth asleep on his chest.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked, hardly able to keep his eyes away from Killian’s midsection.

“Fine, as far as I could tell. Weird, but fine.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No, thankfully, but I’m sure there will be plenty of aches and pains later.”

David winced. “Man, am I glad they asked you and not me. This one was enough,” he said, patting Ruth’s back gently.

“I don’t disagree, but…”

“But you feel like you owe them,” David finished.

“Aye.”

“Well, I think it’ll be the other way around by the end of this, but we’ll help you out as much as we can.”

“I appreciate it—and I’m sure we’ll need it with this one,” he replied, nodding at Hope, who was attempting to escape out a window.

She was easily wrangled, though, and happy to see him. He had no idea what fairy infants were like, but if they were half as charming as his daughter (who definitely took after her grandfather), this whole town would revolve around them.

As he thought, Belle was waiting for him, tape measure in hand. “Seriously?” he griped as he set Hope down next to Gideon in the playpen behind the circulation desk.

“You can’t possibly be surprised,” she threw back. “But if it’s any consolation, I won’t do it again until next week.”

“You only did it monthly last time around.”

“You were only carrying one babe.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Though his waist measurement remained unchanged, his weight was slightly higher (more than could be expected by a few extra pancakes). “I can feel it,” he confirmed when she asked. “There’s definitely something in there, though I only notice it if I go looking for it.”

Belle made a note and then flipped back and forth between some pages. “That matches up with when you found out you were expecting Hope; so do your measurements, and that was, what 8 weeks?”

“Yeah, thereabouts.”

“Second pregnancies do show sooner, too.”

“Especially this one,” he grumbled.

“Oh yeah,” she agreed.

The day continued normally, although his hand did gravitate to his stomach pretty often, without thinking about it. Even if it wasn’t noticeable, he still knew what was there, and his subconscious seemed to have already set out to protect it—that, or his hormones were already starting to affect him.

Based on his reaction when Emma arrived that afternoon—particularly to his train of thought when she bent down to pick up a napping Hope—it was definitely hormones. His jeans felt a very different kind of tight then; something he acted on later that night, after a slightly larger than usual dinner.

“Those hormones kicked in fast,” a sated Emma breathed as they came down from their shared high. “You haven’t been that voracious since we found out we were having a girl.”

“Are you complaining?” he panted.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.” And they went for another round.

In fact, he was so insatiable the next couple of weeks that, despite his elevated appetite, no other discernible change in his weight was noticed; his waist actually went down a bit.

“Are you feeling alright? Keeping food down and everything?” Belle asked, worried, as she recorded his 2-week measurements, comparing them to his 10-week from his first pregnancy. “Last time, you couldn’t eat more than chicken rice about now.”

“Trust me—I feel more than fine,” he assured her. “Were it not for Emma’s implanted contraception, we’d likely need to be planning for a more traditional pregnancy.”

“That’s a very eloquent way of saying you can’t keep your hands off your wife.”

“I could have phrased it crudely—how many synonyms for ‘sex’ did you want Gideon to learn today?”

“None!” she exclaimed, covering her son’s impressionable ears. He was at the age when he repeated anything said around him—a fact they noticed when Gideon’s favorite phrase became “bloody hell.”

“What are uncles for, though?” he teased with a wink.

Belle just groaned and threatened to teach Hope how to read with romance novels. Killian, however, was just glad she slept through the night so she didn’t interrupt the real thing.

---------------------------------------------------------

Where there had been some hubbub about town during Killian’s first pregnancy—and quite a lot of gawking—no one seemed as shocked this time around. They’d made no effort to keep it a secret, letting the Storybrooke rumor mill do its job, but either the town was more aware than Killian had been about fairy reproduction, or they had become jaded to such magical oddities (he assumed the latter).

That said—he had to assume the gawking would eventually return.

Especially with the way Granny was feeding him. To be fair, she wasn’t letting him overindulge, but he’d noticed his portions were larger, and the amount of vegetables increased. He wondered if Blue had given her some nutritional instruction, or if it was just her innate grandmotherly instincts.

The first time she slid an extra helping of broccoli over, he tried to protest, delicious as it looked.

“Oh no—eat up, young man,” she commanded. “If my math is right, you’re eating for 10. I should probably be feeding you more, actually.”

Emma snickered next to him—they were on lunch break from the station—but he wasn’t sure if it was at Granny’s tutting or the fact that Killian had just realized the magnitude of…well, all of it.

So when Granny slid some extra onion rings across the counter, he didn’t complain (but obviously shared them with his wife).

He wanted to blame it on those extra treats—onion rings, fries, pie, muffins—when they noticed an expansion in his waist measurement at 3 weeks, but it was definitely the babes; he could still wear his normal jeans, but was seeing some rounding behind his navel.

And at 4 weeks—a month since the babes were transferred—it could finally be deemed a bump: there was a gentle curve to his whole stomach, from just under his pecs to his hips (which had been aching a bit as they widened some, likely in anticipation of the heavy load to come). Given the way he and Emma’s evening activities hadn’t slowed, he knew it was all the babies.

Belle hummed as she compared the notes she’d just taken with those from last time. “Well, that’s interesting,” she commented.

“What is?” Emma asked; she’d joined them for that week’s check in, curious to see where things were.

“This week’s measurements match up with those from the end of the first trimester last time, which I suppose isn’t a huge surprise, but…”

“But I have a lot more to go than two trimesters,” he finished.

All eyes were on his stomach for a long while after that, likely all wondering the same thing: just how large would he get?

The only thing that took their attention away was the ringing of the bell over the door as someone arrived—Blue, it turned out. “Hi,” she greeted, clearly trying to be casual. “Just wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”

He wasn’t naive enough to believe she’d stay away from him for the duration of the pregnancy, although he had expected more subtle surveillance.

They chatted briefly about how he was feeling, and she studied his stomach with an outstretched hand, he assumed to do her own magical assessment. “Yes, they seem to be doing quite well; that’s good.”

“Did you think they weren’t?” Emma quipped.

“No, of course not,” Blue assured her. “Would it be odd to express my excitement?”

Well, they all understood that. “How long has it been since your last brood?” Belle had to ask.

“Over fifty years,” Blue answered. “They’re usually every five to ten, depending on the solstice.”

“And when you don’t have a series of curses in the way,” Emma added.

Blue glanced over Belle’s notes with interest. “That does seem to match up with past broods, though I don’t think anyone ever thought to take such detailed notes.”

“Are there any?” Belle asked. “I don’t have anything here, but if you had some back at the convent, it’d be great for comparison.”

“I’d have to check our library,” Blue answered. “There might be a few scrolls, but we’re not much for recorded history.”

“I can tell,” Belle complained.

After some more chatting, Blue excused herself, but did ask if it was alright if she checked in periodically.

“Of course,” Killian said. “It’s your brood. Plus, I’m certain we’ll need to take you up on the offer of help sooner rather than later, if this is where I’m already at after only 4 weeks,” he added, gesturing to his still-small bump.

“Absolutely,” Blue said. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled her wand out of nowhere and twirled it at Killian’s midsection. His skin grew warm for a moment, but then returned to normal. “I’m not sure if the original spell will account for the size, as far as how it treats your skin; that should eliminate any damage.”

“No stretch marks?” he wondered.

“No—not any new ones, at least.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

She then left as quickly as she appeared.

“Guess that’s something we’ll have to get used to,” he sighed, and then they went about their day. But he was starting to grow very concerned about what lay ahead for him; he knew this wouldn’t be a small feat, but was worried it would be more than he could handle.

As time progressed, his bump steadily grew, though not unnaturally so. At 5 weeks, it was yet more noticeable; at 6, he finally had to concede defeat and dig out his maternity jeans, though they were still plenty roomy. By the end of the second month, he wasn’t quite where he’d been at the end of his second trimester, but it was definitely a baby bump—roughly where he’d been around 24 weeks with Hope, even though he was only at 8 with this one.

It was around then, though, that he noticed the first flutterings inside. He thought he’d noticed it the week before, but chalked it up to gas or something like that; Granny had been feeding him a lot of black beans lately. But late one night, after yet another glorious session of lovemaking, Emma’s hand had drifted to his belly and even she took notice.

“Wow, they’re actually starting to move in there, huh?”

“Seems like it. You don’t suppose they actually have wings already, do they?”

“Normal babies hardly have limbs at this stage, so probably not.”

They lay peacefully in the afterglow for a bit, before he asked quietly, “You are okay with this, right?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d ask, nor was it likely to be the last. But it was a large undertaking and though she hadn’t exactly protested, he knew it wasn’t something she’d have volunteered for.

“For the hundredth time, yes. Even if this was partly fueled by guilt, I know you probably would have agreed anyway, and that big heart is why I love you so much. And can I say something else?”

“What’s that, love?”

“I was so attracted to you with that baby bump last time, even when you thought you were massive. So as long as your libido holds out, I think we’re both going to be very happy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, I think I might need some convincing.”

“Then let me show you.” And oh, she did.

Gods, he prayed he’d be able to do that for a while. The next several months were going to be very interesting.

------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @88infinity88 (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #fairy godfather #my ff

32 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

Until the end of the World - 2

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2623

Rating: E

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, smut (MMF bisexual threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex).

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 2

The day at the Magic Kingdom had been exhausting, exciting, and emotional. Steve had thought his heart had stopped when Geo had called him dad, and then it broke a little when he thought he’d hurt the boy. Then, after whatever it was that Bucky had said when the two had talked, Geo had just started calling Steve ‘dad’ like he’d been doing it all along. Steve had tried to play it cool and not make a big deal about it. Geo clearly didn’t want attention called to this momentous step in their lives, but it was big and Steve wanted to make a big deal about it.

So he spent the day holding it in, riding roller coasters, and buying terrible park food and souvenirs before coming back at the end of the day and eating Prime Rib at 1900 Park Fare, and heading up to the room.

Steve had gone all out on this trip. Four years of living together and promising holidays but failing to deliver had made him want to spoil all three of you in the hopes it would somehow make it up to you. Steve had the money, he had earned a huge payout from the Army when he’d woken up again, so that was not an issue. The problem was he wasn’t used to spending it. Growing up poor and with as many health issues as he had, his relationship with excess was tenuous. He had given away most of his wealth to charity. He tried to live frugally. He especially hated eating expensive food or eating at all if there was a big audience. But he wanted to spoil you, Bucky, and Geo and give you all the things he’d grown up wishing he had.

This trip was the overindulgent result of that. It was two weeks in a suite at the Grand Floridian at Disney World. You’d be seeing all the parks, eating at most of the character restaurants, and there were trips to other theme parks too. On Geo’s birthday, they had the In-Room celebrations booked and a cake would be delivered to the restaurant after their dinner.

It was an essay in excess and it made Steve very uncomfortable. The only thing that saved it for him was the fact that he’d been taking Geo out to do things like work in soup kitchens and donate blankets and clothing to shelters so that he had an idea how the poorest people lived too.

That and the fact that Geo had called him dad.

Steve had read to him that night - the boy still enjoyed a bedtime story as much as he enjoyed jabbering away to FRIDAY, but tonight Geo was so exhausted from his day out that he passed out halfway through the chapter.

Steve crept from the room and switched off the light, before heading to the main bedroom. Bucky was stretched out on the bed in just his boxers, watching something on the big screen TV. The bathroom door was open and he could hear the occasional slosh of you shifting in the bath.

Bucky turned off the TV and smiled up at Steve. “Does he need us to say goodnight?”

“No, he passed out mid-chapter,” Steve said.

“Knocks it out of him,” Bucky said, patting the bed beside him.

“We’ll do another part-day tomorrow and then the day after he can go to the Mousketeers and we’ll have a relaxing day,” Steve said, climbing up next to Bucky and resting his cheek on the other man’s shoulder.

“There’s always the pool too,” Bucky suggested. “He can swim while we lie in deck chairs.”

“Is chlorine okay with the arm?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out,” he said and looked at Steve. “We not going to mention how he’s calling us ‘dad’ now?”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “Can you believe it? When it happened he looked like he was going to be in trouble.”

“He did think he was going to be in trouble,” Bucky said. “I guess we should have talked to him about it.”

Steve nodded. “I didn’t want him to feel like he had to. But I’m really glad he did.”

Bucky hummed and nosed at Steve’s cheek. “Mmm… me too.”

“Can you believe it, Buck?” Steve asked. “When we were growing up, I was so in love with you, but there was no way I’d get to have you, let alone this.”

Bucky started to unbutton Steve’s shirt. “I kinda figured I’d get married and have kids. Didn’t expect this, and this is so much better than anything I imagined.”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, playfully.

“What’s it look like, you little shit?” Bucky teased. “We gotta have the talk about the birds and the bees again?”

Steve laughed and caught Bucky’s hand, the cool metal fingers curled around Steve’s warm flesh ones. “Bucky,” Steve whispered. “We’re dads.”

“I know,” Bucky chuckled. “It’s good, isn’t it?” He brought his lips to Steve’s. Steve hummed at the prickle from Bucky’s beard as it moved over Steve’s lips.

As Bucky pushed Steve back on the bed, there was a sloshing sound from the bathroom and the gurgle of the drain as you let out the bath. A moment later you padded into the bedroom and cleared your throat. “Starting without me?”

Bucky pulled back and offered you his hand. “Feel better after the bath?”

“Mm much better,” you said, letting your towel slip as you climbed up onto the bed. “Though, I do want to talk about what happened today.”

“We were just talking about that too,” Steve said as Bucky kissed your neck.

You hummed and closed your eyes, tilting your head back. “You’re really both okay with that? I mean… I know you’ve both been filling the place of his dad, but we’ve never spoken about… any of that.”

“We are all for it, darlin’,” Bucky hummed, kissing down your collarbone. “I love that kid.”

Steve nodded and caressed your jaw. “I’ve definitely been thinking about him as my son, it feels good that he feels that way about me too,” Steve said. “How do you feel though, sweetheart?”

You tensed up a little and Bucky pulled back and looked at you. “You don’t want him to?” He asked, sounding hurt.

“No, it’s not that,” you said quickly. “I just with his dad had got that too.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve soothed, pulling you close. “I know.”

“I’m happy,” you said, obviously trying to reassure them both. “I love you both so much. It feels right. Don’t you think?”

“It does,” Steve agreed, as Bucky went back to kissing your neck. “We’re a family. But you’re right, ever since we all moved in together we’ve just been coasting with what we have and not spoken about what we want.”

Bucky sat back with a huff. “You are both killing my boner.”

“Buck, this is serious,” Steve scolded. “What do we want? Is this it? I mean, we can’t get married. Was living at Avengers’ Tower the four of us the happy ending?”

Bucky furrowed his brow and you shrugged. “When we were on the run, I didn’t think I’d get to stop running. I’m happy where I am. But if you wanted something else…”

“Can I say something?” Bucky asked.

“That’s why we’re talking, Buck,” Steve said.

“If I think about what I’d like… how I see our ideal life… we live in a house with a yard and we have a cat and a dog, and we have a couple more kids,” Bucky said.

“Buck, we can…” Steve started.

“Let me finish,” Bucky said. “Because that’s what my dream life looks like, but I still don’t think I’ve earned it. I love you guys so much, and I love Geo, but even this feels like more than I deserve. I need to keep working with the Avengers. How’s Tasha put it?”

“Wiping the red from her ledger?” Steve suggested.

“That’s the one,” Bucky said with a nod. “I think if we left the tower I would constantly be waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“You want more kids?” You asked.

“I mean… yeah. I don’t… I don’t think I need them, and before I met you, I would have said no way, but I kinda like this whole ‘dad’ thing,” Bucky said. “But if you don’t want them…”

“No,” you said quickly. “I do. I would.”

Bucky pulled you into his lap and went back to kissing your neck. “Damn. Talking is good.”

Steve chuckled as he watched the two of you. “You both deserve all the things you want,” Steve said.

“And what do you want, Steve?” You asked.

“Bucky’s dream world sounds pretty good to me,” Steve said. “But I also don’t know if I can stop either. So the house might be out for me too.”

“Geo loves living in the tower,” you said. “He’d miss FRIDAY if we left. And if he’s happy, I’m happy.”

“Are we really going to try for more kids?” Bucky asked, looking up at you.

“I’m game if you both are,” you said.

He pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss and you tangled your hands in his hair.

Steve cleared his throat. “We still have a lot to talk about.”

“Steve,” Bucky groaned. “I love you. But we’ve talked enough for now. We aren’t knocking her up this second. It’s been a long fucking day.”

“Fine,” Steve chuckled, pulling off his shirt. “If that’s what you want.”

Bucky pulled him down into a kiss so that you were pressed between both of them. You kissed Bucky’s neck and reached behind you, running your fingers through Steve’s hair. Bucky made a sound like a cat purring. The three of you edged down the bed a little. You kissed down Bucky’s chest and turned, sucking a patch of skin on Steve’s neck. Steve broke the kiss with Bucky and leaned down, capturing your lips. Bucky curled himself around you and pulled one of your nipples into his mouth as he reached in between Steve’s legs and palmed his cock.

Steve’s cock hardened under Bucky’s hand and he pushed his hips forward. Steve moaned into your lips and nudged you so you were half on top of Bucky. The kiss moved again as you pulled away from Steve and began kissing Bucky. Steve took the opportunity to move his way down both your bodies. He kissed around your hip and worked Bucky’s boxers down. The scent of your sex blended with the floral aroma of the soap you used and the salt from Bucky’s sweat. It was intoxicating. Steve licked a stripe up Bucky’s cock, collecting up the bead of precome that had leaked from it and begun smearing on your skin.

Bucky moaned and tangled his flesh hand in Steve’s hair. Steve smiled and lapped over the head of his cock and moved to your cunt, swirling his tongue over your folds. You moaned and spread your legs a little wider, giving him more room to lap up your tart fluids.

He hummed and flicked his tongue over your clit and sucked it into his mouth. Your moans got louder and you pushed your hips up against Steve’s mouth. He switched again, sucking on the head of Bucky’s cock. He cupped Bucky’s balls in one hand and rolled them gently as he began to rub your clit with his other hand.

Above him, Bucky was sucking on one of your breasts as you threw your head back and moaned loudly. Steve switched again pushing his tongue inside you and swirling it around before starting to suck hungrily on your clit. Your arousal ran from you, coating his tongue.

“Oh god,” you moaned. “I need …”

“What do you need?” Bucky teased, pulling back and looking at you.

“Bucky…” you whined.

Bucky pulled you on top of him. “On my face, babe.”

You climbed on top of Bucky, straddling his face.�� Bucky didn’t wait at all, he was hungrily sucking on your folds before you were even fully in place. You dropped down and began to suck Bucky’s cock.

Steve watched the two of you for a moment, stroking himself as the two of you used your mouths on each other. He moved up behind you and as Bucky sucked on your clit, he teased the head of his cock over your wet entrance.

Bucky hummed and lapped his tongue over the head of Steve’s cock. It made a shiver run up Steve’s spine and his cock jumped against you. He groaned and eased into you.

The wet warmth of your sex encompassed his shaft, squeezing and massaging it, and Bucky licked over the base. He groaned again, the sensation sending a current right through his core. He began to thrust.

Bucky continued to suck on your clit as Steve fucked you. You mewled, arching your back. Steve braced his hand on your shoulder and picked up his pace. The way Bucky kept flicking his tongue out over the base of Steve’s cock as he lapped at your cunt, Steve was sure he wasn’t going to last long. From the way your cunt fluttered and you moaned, Steve could tell, you weren’t either.

You began to pant, but you kept moving your head up and down on Bucky’s cock. Bucky had begun to snap his hips up into your mouth, though you never gagged. Steve leaned over and kissed your spine and with a loud moan, you came, your cunt clenching tight around Steve’s cock.

Steve groaned and kept thrusting, fucking you through your orgasm. You shuddered and moaned and seemed to speed up the bobbing of your head. You slipped your hands between Bucky’s legs and started playing with his balls as you sucked his cock. Bucky groaned and his hips started to stutter under you. Steve picked up his pace, pounding into you and pushing you down onto Bucky’s cock more. Bucky grunted and arched his back a little, pushing you up against Steve more, and with a low moan, he came, releasing straight down your throat. You pulled off, swallowing it down, and then just rested with your head on Bucky’s thigh, gripping the sheets as Steve fucked you and Bucky sucked on your clit.

You panted between both men, your body shuddering as another orgasm approached. Your muscles tensed at once and you came, shuddering under him. “Oh god,” you moaned and bit softly on the inside of Bucky’s thigh.

Steve kept thrusting, chasing his release. Your cunt squeezed and spasmed around his shaft, massaging it and making his balls tighten. Bucky lapped his tongue over them, and with a grunt Steve snapped his hips forward and came, his cock pulsing inside you as he emptied inside you.

“Fuck,” you sighed. Under you Bucky slowly lapped his tongue over the place where you and Steve joined, drinking up the results of both your orgasms as they dripped from you.

Steve pulled out and flopped down on the bed. As you rolled off Bucky and he crawled back up the bed, Steve wrapped his arm around both of you pulling you both close, so you were sandwiched between the two large men.

“I’m really glad you sprung for the two-bedroom suite,” Bucky said as he tried to get comfortable.

Steve smiled. He knew Bucky was talking about the sex, but the three of you had only been here one full day and already Geo had started to call him dad and the three of you had made a decision to make a big jump in your relationship. “Mm…” Steve hummed. “I’m thinking this trip was exactly what we needed.”

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #pregnancy #until the end of the world

175 notes · View notes

fluffysparklyham · 4 years ago

Text

Uni Student Akaashi Headcanon Dump

I am highly invested in literature university student Akaashi coming out of his shell and enjoying uni life + bokuaka

Now with Bokuto’s side here

Akaashi gets through his first year with wonderful grades, he's well rounded and good at gen ed courses but he's always loved to indulge in literature.

He's afraid of telling his parents that he's decided on what is considered an arts course. They tell him he could be a successful businessman, a lawyer, doctor, so why settle.

But ultimately, it's Bokuto, abroad with an international team, who tells him that, "Life's no good if you're not doing what you love." That makes Akaashi a bit more brave.

By 2nd year he moves into the dorms with other literature students. They are colorful and kind, all obsessed with variations of media, icons, and art, and it expands Akaashi's mind.

What Akaashi loves is that the student body is so diverse that his resting stoic face and calm demeanor does not dissuade anyone from approaching him.

He also realizes that there is no such thing as caring too much. His classmates over analyze character intentions, costume designs, author appeal, reader influence. This applies to real life scenarios too, suddenly everyone speaks so candidly (a contrast from the traditional way he was brought up).

Eventually Akaashi ends up with a solid group of friends and they go to slam poetry sessions, group studies, karaoke, and college parties together. They eventually ask him if he's single and uhh-

Bokuto and him are a thing. Bokuto has always been candid about his feelings, it is Akaashi that's holding back because- "You'll meet many new people, Bokuto-san", and, "University keeps me busy, we might not have the time."

And as a compromise, Bokuto stated, proudly, that he would court Akaashi for as long as it took. "Court... like volleyball court?" "DON'T SAY THAT AGKAASHI, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN."

What he means is the idea from old traditional English literature that detailed the process of a man winning over his object of affection through time and offerings of love. Bokuto has learnt this from Akaashi's many literature readings and thought the idea was great!

"We're Japanese, Bokuto-san, things are different." "But I like you, Akaashi! What difference does it make."

Being courted by Bokuto means receiving random food deliveries to his apartment while Bokuto is overseas and getting convenience store flowers when he comes by to visit. They see each other multiple times a month, Bokuto becomes friends with his roommates, and they hold hands when they go out to dinner.

Their dynamics don't change, Bokuto knows Akaashi likes him back. He compiles playlists for him to listen to before big games, asks about his food intakes, progress, and teammates, and comes to all local games. Bokuto is aware that they are both young, he's not earning much yet, and Akaashi is drowning in his readings, part time job, and probably not sleeping much.

What Akaashi both likes and dislikes about literature is that brains don't factor much to success. He's used to studying, practicing, even memorizing but with writing, you need talent, passion, skill.

He does great in his theory of literature class but his writing is embarrassingly subpar at first. His teacher, a younger woman who lets her class call her by her first name and comes to class 10 minutes late, tells him such. "Your grammar and construction are good, Akaashi-kun, but this is a love story and I don't feel the passion."

What she means is that despite Akaashi describing the feeling of falling in love like seeing the stars for the first time, he paints the girl as someone with brown hair and eyes. There is no synergy with the heroine and the apparent love story.

"I don't think she's the one you are writing about." His teacher gives him a knowing smile, but Akaashi feels embarrassed and exposed at how easily undone he is.

He thinks about why he chose literature, unstructured and unpredictable. Why he chose to endure his parent's disappointment and the expectations of his peers. Why he enjoys the debates his new friends drag him in, absorbing new types of literature every week, writing essays on what each author wanted to say just for him to be wrong.

Most of his friends go either way, or are at least curious, it's not even a revelation to them when he comes out. But for Akaashi, it's something he's struggled with and something he rather Bokuto not struggle with as he gets recruited into a division 1 team.

"But Akaashi, all the greatest love stories begin with overcoming the greatest challenges. Think of the Greeks, the Romans, the-", the comforting words of his roommates.

In the end, Bokuto knows about Akaashi's tendency to overthink. He gives him space but knows when it's about to burst. All his feelings, frustrations on his writing, anxieties on Bokuto's progression and his own future- come out while Bokuto is staying over and his roommates are visiting home.

Bokuto listens, chuckles and brings him tissue, let's himself be cried on. It's not embarrassing for Akaashi to pour out his feelings, there are never secrets between them.

"It'll be hard but not impossible."

Bokuto says, just like the last time Akaashi cried during their last tournament. A refute that left him speechless before and leaves him speechless yet again.

"You know Akaashi, I think you're easy to love."

He knows this isn’t true, after all he's released several months of pent up emotion despite them already existing domestically, practically together without the label. Bokuto goes to practice, Akaashi is in university but it's always been easy for them to give space and get back together. They've always had the reassurance that there would be more laters, a future for the two of them. For Akaashi, love wasn't like literature, it was easy.

Bokuto adjusts from being the-guy-Akaashi-is-dating to Akaashi's-boyfriend, much to his friends' delight.

Akaashi is still bad at writing romance. "Too flowery, too much fluff- I think you're overindulging yourself here." But his professor is happy and teases him relentlessly; he sticks to other genres to avoid talking about his boyfriend every assignment.

Akaashi in university is really happy. He eats too much unhealthy food, doesn't always arrive to class on time, participates in every ridiculous plan his friends have, and openly shows off his boyfriend when he starts making the news.

#haikyuu!!#akaashi keiji #bokuaka #hq #bokuto #hq headcanons #just throwing this out into the void #I love how furudate kept akaashi's poetic inner thoughts consistent with his ambition #he could have been given a job to match his serious demeanor #but our boy is artsy and feels a lot #let him enjoy uni while bokuto plays vball #whispers he didnt get into lit because he can only write fluff #he's all smiley post timeskip and this is why #talk hq headcanons with me #hamposts

269 notes · View notes

elysiangalaxy · 4 years ago

Text

Fire Signs Love Reading (April 2021)

I wanted my first post to be a channeled love tarot reading. What will be going on in love for your zodiac sign in the month of April. Keep in mind this is a general reading and it can apply to your Sun, Moon and Rising signs.

Aries - QoC rx, PoW rx, 4oS, QoP rx, Tower rx

You are still emotionally attached to someone who you are no longer talking to. Your connection might have ended some weeks ago but you may still e waiting for things to get better. You are trying to detach yourself from this situation but is taking you some time. Be careful not to read old texts, not to look at old pictures/videos that will revive what you two once had. This connection was there to teach you a lesson. That’s it. If you haven’t been *really* focusing on yourself lately than the QoC and QoP both reversed are telling you that now would be a good time to do that. Spending time in nature, starting a new beauty routine, maybe a new health routine; working out, eating healthier. There’s a need for you to observe your feelings and actions this month as they will reveal what you have been refusing to heal. These could be wounds from your childhood or maybe wounds that this latest connection left in you. But the cards are strongly encouraging you to observe your actions and feelings as they need to be released immediately. Another message that is coming through for you is don’t be afraid of change as it is blocking your intuition. Have you been in a codependent relationship for a long time? Because this to me feels like you’re scared of opening yourself up to new romantic options. It’s like your intuition is trying to tell you that that connection is over, that person was there to teach you a lesson just like you were there to teach that person a lesson but you’re not paying attention to it. If you were in a co-dependent, unhealthy relationship and you’re still attached to that person maybe this could reveal childhood wounds that you have suppressed or that you are trying to get away from. Tarot is saying the month of April is for you to focus on yourself, your healing, what you want to do, where you want to be. It’s a month for you to clear the old and get ready for the new. I feel like there’s a big change coming for you in love beyond April but if you are still focused on the old, you won’t leave any space for the new. Black obsidian is a great and powerful crystal to help us bring forth any emotional wounds that we’re not aware of, it removed negative energy and is good for everything. If you have a black obsidian that would be great. But rose quartz and amathyst are good for healing and self love too.

Leo -

As I was shuffling the cards I noticed a heaviness in my head. I felt pressure and slight pain in my head almost like I have been crying for hours over something or someone. I get the feeling that you’re crying because you feel like you’ve lost someone you loved

You had the 3oS, 8oC, 6oW rx, 5oS rx. Leo you are going through a major heartbreak right now and I’m so sorry for that. You are the most hopeless romantic sign together with Pisces, you’re always getting hurt in love. You walked away from someone and it was so painful for you to do so. That connection was full of fights and mind games, full of breaking up and getting back together. I’m not saying that it was all bad, but the bad definitely outweighed the good. You tried to hold onto the little bit of goodness in that relationship but you couldn’t anymore. That connection was draining and exhausting for you mentally, emotionally and spiritually. The 6 of Wands is one of the cards that represents Leo and it’s in reverse. You’re not feeling like yourself anymore. You have lost yourself in this connection. The bad part is that deep down you still want to reconcile with this person. I feel guided to pull some advice cards for you Leo. QoP, AoS, 3oP and QoS rx popped up. Don’t be scared to open up to your mom, grand mom, your friend or a loving woman in your life. A woman who is like a mother figure to you, will stay close to you and will be of great help through this heartbreak. If you have a idea for a new project , start it. Most importantly avoid any type of communication or connection with that past person. Avoid listening to songs that remind you of him/her/them, don’t look at old pictures, old messages. Completely detach yourself from that person, block them. Don’t give them an opportunity to come back and manipulate you into going back to that situation. Don’t delay your healing. You need to heal from that person, allow yourself to cry to that mother figure, let all the pain out but don’t go back to that connection. This is a time to release, cleanse. Just like I told Aries, crystals like obsidian, rose quartz and amethyst are great in aiding you through healing. If you don’t have crystals and simply don’t believe they will do anything for you, then I would suggest you spend time in nature, with your loved ones or pets. I know with everything that’s going on right now it may be difficult but find a way. Being alone helps with releasing some of that grief but I see that being close to loved ones (especially a female figure could be a Taurus, Virgo or Capricorn woman) will aid you. Avoid overindulging in food, alcohol, drugs (escapism). STAY AWAY FROM SOCIAL MEDIA. Don’t be all over Instagram posting quotes or on Twitter sub-tweeting. That will only make you look bad and desperate. Don’t wait on getting back with that person either. April for you will be all about dealing with your sadness, releasing all your pain, getting in touch with your loved ones and yourself again. You deserve to be surrounded with love after all you’ve been through.

Sagittarius - Magician rx + 8oC, 4oS, World rx, Hermit rx

Of course these cards would pop up in a Sag love reading😂 Have you recently walked away from a connection because it got boring? Or maybe you got away from a manipulative person. The 8oC, 4oS, World rx and Hermit rx are all cards of withdrawal I don’t know what else to say. The World card reverse (rx) and the 8oC is telling me that although you have walked away from a connection, there is still some type of attachment lingering. There are still some feelings there, reminiscing about the past and not wanting it to be over yet. If this connection has been stagnant for a while, if you two have not been communicating at all, this can mean that either you or the other person is thinking about coming back. Someone (or both of you) is thinking whether or not is a good idea to come back, to revisit this again or not. If you have worked on yourselves after this connection was over, then I don’t see why not communicate again. You both still have feelings for each other, you think about each other a lot (at least one person does). The world rx can also mean someone being blocked on social media lol. There’s unfinished business between you two. At least that’s how you feel. If you are not stuck on a past person these cards could mean that you are too closed off for love. You’ve withdrawn from love for so long that you may have just become too comfortable being alone. Think about what you really want in April. If you still have feelings for someone from the past, then don’t be afraid to communicate with them. If you want new love then put yourself out there. Be open to give and receive love.

This was the general - channeled and tarot fire sign love reading for April. Leo had it the worst. I’m so sorry Leo💙

13 notes · View notes

chubbyheroesworthyheroes · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do a story with Wil and Dart from FE7, please? Preferably, it would start with Dart gaining weight unintentionally and Wil would then gain some weight accidentally as well. Thanks and sorry if I did this incorrectly.

Dart and Wil hadn’t really gotten off on the right foot when they first met back in the war. Wil had come off as a bit empty-headed, and had mistaken the pirate for someone he knew but had since lost contact with. Dart had been more than a little brusque with the young man, simultaneously seeming to want to brush him off and pound his face in out of sheer annoyance.

But, after a few run-ins, they sort of found even ground with each other. They were able to fight alongside each other well, and even saved the other’s skin more than once on the battlefield. Dart might not have been who Wil thought he was at first, but a bond had still been created on the trust of comrades.

This carried over years later, when the war with Nergal and the Black Fang had been finished, and everyone had resumed their lives. Wil had gone back to Caelin, staying there in the archery division even after Ostia took over control of the area. Dart had, of course, gone back to Fargus’ pirates. The two met up as frequently as they could in Badon, sharing stories both old and new. Of course, with only so much time before one of them would inevitably get pulled away to handle their individual duties again, they tended to stay in Badon and catch up as much as they could.

They tended to share a room at this pub that also had lodging -- if you knew the right people, or so Dart said. The room was cheap enough when split between them, and they only had to go downstairs for a drink or some food. It made it incredibly easy to just chat the days away, since they didn’t have to go running all over the port town for their needs, but it also made it very easy to, perhaps, overindulge a bit.

Whatever time of day it was that they were able to meet at the pub, they’d settle in for whatever meal was being offered at the time. Being a port town, more often or not it was some sort of seafood, but sometimes there were other offerings available. Plates piled high with all kinds of fried fish and shrimp, with equally loaded up sides of vegetables smothered in some sort of creamy sauce or heavenly soups that warmed them up from the inside out. And, without fail, there was always plenty of beer to go along with the food and their hours of talk. The more they drank and chatted the hour away, the more they could foolishly pack away into their stomachs before eventually, drunkenly, staggering their way back up the stairs to collapse into a deep slumber.

Only to repeat it the following day, and the one after that, until either Dart was called back to his ship or Wil back to Caelin proper. Several months would go by, and then they’d meet up again for the same old binge and chat routine.

Not seeing each other for such long periods of time, they completely missed seeing how their little get-togethers were affecting them until they met up again.

Wil had gotten into Badon first this time around, and as he sat back with his drink in hand, he couldn’t help staring when Dart finally swaggered in. And while it was a bit of a swagger, as he got a better look at the seaman, Wil thought it was more of a waddle -- and with the extra weight his friend seemed to be sporting, that wasn’t really a surprise. It wasn’t a huge amount by any means, but it was noticeable enough. It was most obvious in his middle -- which jutted out in a taught, round beer belly -- as well as around his thighs and ass; pert bubble butt bouncing with each step and his thick thighs fighting for space. The weight didn’t take away from how strong a man he was, though; Dart still looked like someone who could easily toss you over the side of a boat one-handed, but now he had added mass to make the threat look even more believable.

“Wow, you’re looking healthy!” the archer chuckled, not even meaning it as a possible insult. The other man did just look healthy to him! Being out to sea for stretches of time with only a small variety of food and a strict, physical schedule to keep was grueling. So, it was good to see Dart looking like he was living off of more than just salted meats and dry bread.

Dart grinned, flexing and showing off his powerfully muscled arms, honed by years living on the tumultuous sea. “Ha, I know! The crew’s been talkin’ about how much I’ve been bulking up recently! Can’t complain about having more muscle to help move things along when we’re out at sea.”

And this cheerful greeting quickly segwayed into their usual back and forth. Wil gave wandering, somewhat air-headed stories about the mostly peaceful life in Caelin -- how Kent seemed hellbent on teaching him knightly decorum if he was to remain a part of their forces. And Dart told awe-inspiring tales of sea travel -- embellishment highly likely taken with some, but greatly bought into for the fun of listening. And, all the while they talked and joked, they ate and drank and called back for more until they were both fit to burst.

It was amazing to watch the pirate pack it away, and if Wil was more observant, he likely would have noticed how much more his friend could consume. How much more he also tried to eat in order to keep up, and to keep the night going on longer. Belts were unbuckled, all ceremony lost between old friends and plenty of good booze, and chairs pushed back on their squeaking legs in order to make room for over-packed bellies.

They hiccuped their way through some silly tunes, until they could take no more food or drink and could hardly keep their eyes open. The stairs creaked louder than times before as they lethargically climbed up to their usual room, Dart letting out a boisterous laugh when Wil went to lay back on his mattress, but misjudged the distance and ended up bumping his foot against a leg of the bed and tumbling backwards with enough force to send his stuffed gut swaying as he groaned.

“Ugh, didn’t-- didn’t know I needed sea legs here on land,” Wil burped out somewhat queasily, cradling his abused middle with both hands in an effort to calm it down.

“Ah, you’ll get used to it! Just gotta get you back into the swing of things!” Dart laughed, patting his bloated gut with a sense of pride, “Life in a castle has made you a li’l soft there, pal, you’ve forgotten how to have fun with yer best mate!”

Of course, being so stuffed full and pleasantly drunk as he had been at the time, Wil laughed along in total agreement, and that week in Badon was one of the wildest they’d had to date. But, later on, when all the food and drinking, late nights and even later mornings started to catch up with Wil, he had to wonder if it was really the castle life that was making him soft.

A year later saw them still maintaining this ritual of meeting up, and while not much had changed in their lives, their size certainly had.

Dart was ever the larger of the two, his physical life aboard Fargus’ ship helping to balance out whatever fat he put on with well-honed muscle. He had a presence that made him feel larger than life, and it was hard not to think he was when you saw this massive sea-faring lad shifting cargo on and off the ship with ease. While he had a gut that spoke of indulgence at the table, there was hard muscle to back up the ball of chub that hung there proudly. His arms were still thick with muscle, and though his legs were just as strong, it was obvious that they had a healthy padding of pudge to them; giving him a slightly pear-shaped but mostly boxy appearance to his frame.

Wil, on the other hand, didn’t do nearly the same amount of physical activity on a daily basis as Dart. Sure, being in charge of Caelin’s archery division meant that he had to run routines and training sessions with all the rest, but it wasn't constant, nor was it as demanding. So, when the weight finally started to sneak on to the brunette, it was more obvious on him. He was plush all over, with a doughy stomach than rested in his lap -- a top roll starting to develop and divide his middle into two, clear rolls of flesh -- round, budding moobs sitting nicely atop his belly when full. His ass wasn’t nearly as large as Dart’s, but it was pleasantly soft all the same, leading down to plump thighs that quivered when he walked. His face was cherubic, and though through his continued practice of archery, Wil’s arms had maintained most of their definition, there was some pudge starting to creep onto his upper arms as well by the time the two of them got together again to swap stories and indulge in whatever Badon’s port town had to offer them.

#Anonymous #male weight gain #male wg #chubby!dart #chubby!wil #these are two from fe7 that I'm not the best at writing but I hope it was okay!#we stan these two being idiot friends even if dart doesnt remember being dan

18 notes · View notes

redrobinhoood · 4 years ago

Text

no choir | chapter 1, no choir

A sequel to illicit affairs

A/N: Posting more because I wrote A Lot this weekend. Experimenting with posting whole chapters onto Tumblr for this story.

AO3 Link | 2800 words (approx) | Chapter 2

Story Summary: It’s been one month since the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire. Riyo and Fox are trying to move forward as if nothing has changed, but they’re still trying to play by the old rules.

It had been one month. One month since the war had ended. One month since the Galactic Empire was founded. One month since the Great Jedi Purge. It was the beginning of the dark times and the fall of democracy. It was the end of the Republic. But for Riyo, it was the twentieth night in a row that she had woken up in Fox’s arms. She had been counting. In all the chaos of the new government it was now easier for him to slip away to her in the evenings and to stay gone all night. They had a routine. He would arrive a little after 19:00, strip out of his armor, then help her make dinner. After dinner, they would curl up on the couch and watch the HoloNet until the petting became too much or they had nothing else to talk about and they would retire to the bedroom. Then, Fox would hold Riyo in his arms and whisper sweet nothings into her ear until they were ready to sleep. Occasionally the roles were swapped, with Riyo holding Fox against her chest and reaffirming her love to him until his breathing slowed down into sleep.

Last night had been one of those first types of nights, which is how Riyo found herself awakening to a rough hand running softly over her hips. She kept her eyes closed for a few more moments, savoring the touch and the last remainder of sleep. If it weren’t for Fox, she could have never kept such a schedule as she did now. Before, she had stayed up until the chronometer had ticked over into a new day before thinking of retiring. Now, she was going to bed long before the new day and waking up with the sun, if not before it. The crazy things she did for the man she loved.

“Good morning.” She groaned, refusing to open her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled herself into his chest, breathing him in as she pressed her forehead against his beating heart.

“Good morning.” He mumbled back, smoothing down her untamed hair. “You need a shower.”

“Join me?” She almost didn’t have to ask. The morning shower had also become a part of their routine. Riyo’s shower wasn’t small, but it was certainly intended for only one being. Neither of them minded, and Riyo often found herself laying her head against Fox’s chest or back. The shower gave her a few extra minutes to hold him before reality set back in. Besides, it was harder to push him out of the warm water flow than it was to join him in it.

After the shower, Fox would shave while Riyo dried her hair and put it into one of the many elaborate traditional Pantoran hairstyles that she utilized as part of her senatorial regalia. Fox would finish first then ‘help’ her by tugging down on one section of parted hair and kissing her until she unwillingly pushed him away. While she pretended to be offended by the fervent displays of affection, she was still craving his touch. She hoped that this feeling wouldn’t fade away over time, or worse, be replaced by apathy.

While she didn’t trust Fox with dinner, he had gotten the hang of cooking breakfast and she found herself emerging from the bathroom to any number of breakfast foods that he had found in her fridge. It had taken a few weeks for Fox to adjust to eating anything but ration bars and barracks food, but she had a feeling that one day she might trust him to cook a good dinner.

“How are the boys?” She asked once he had sat down to eat with her.

"Just as overwhelmed as I am. We were made to fight wars, not found governments.”

“Wouldn’t you suppose that the founding of a new government may be the reason for a war?”

She loved the smile that Fox’s lips formed when she challenged him. Very few beings had ever challenged the head of the Coruscant Guard, and as far as she knew, she was the only one whose challenged he liked.

“Too much free-thought, not enough following orders.” He waved his hand in faux dismissal. “You don’t teach your gun the fundamentals of a fair government.”

“Perhaps that is why we have found ourselves in the situation we are in now.” She watched his expression carefully. He had been guarded on his thoughts on the new administration and she wasn’t fully comfortable criticizing their new government. She still considered herself to be loyal to the Republic, now Empire, after all. She just disagreed with them on some of the finer points. Like that her democracy had become an empire.

“It’s been a month. Change doesn’t happen overnight. And the Emperor did end the Clone Wars.”

“And then arrested sixty-three senators who stood against him.”

"They stood against the Empire, not the Emperor. I know that some of them were your friends, but they were traitors. If you continue to try to associate with them an investigation will be opened.”

And that was the sticking point. Riyo had been cleared from her preliminary investigation rather quickly due to the commanders of the Coruscant Guard vouching for her character and her own sworn loyalty to the Empire. But if the investigation was reopened, they would be discovered. She and Fox had been subtle, but not subtle enough to hide their affair from anyone who looked further than the surface.

"I know.” She sighed. “I will try to concern myself with things that I can change rather than those that I cannot.”

“Speaking of which, we should be going.” He gathered their empty plates from the bar as Riyo slipped on her shoes. When she straightened back up he was ready with her datapad in one hand and his helmet tucked under his arm. Officially, Fox escorted her to the Senate every morning because she had asked for a bodyguard. The requested time was one that was unlucrative to many, if not all, of the men and Fox had kindly taken the billet after two days of no response. Unofficially, Fox had provided her with the most inconvenient time frame for her request, one that only he or Commander Thire could have reasonably fulfilled. Not that Thire would have taken the posting either. He was at the Emperor’s constant beck and call, a role that was wearing him down. That left Commander Fox to retrieve the senator and provide protection against any remaining Separatist sympathizers, or worse, anti-Imperialists. Of course, her worries had been completely fictitious. It just made for a better cover story for their close relations as far as the public knew. As for the Coruscant Guard, Riyo was certain that every man who was in the office on a day to day basis knew about them. If they didn’t, that was likely due to purposeful obliviousness.

“Thank you, Fox.” She accepted the datapad and a kiss on the cheek from him, his newly scarred lips brushing gently against her skin. She really hoped that he would never grow out of the overindulgent kissing. She’d learned very quickly that his love language was touch after he practically melted the first time she’d lain a hand on his shoulder. Riyo wouldn’t have called herself a touch-starved being, but she certainly was more distant in the Senate than she was back home. Thus, she had taken to this language with ease, enjoying the warm feeling of his flesh beneath her touch. Of course, there was also his armor, but she was afraid that he was giving her a complex regarding men in uniform.

He put his helmet on and stepped out of the door before her, waiting for her to activate her security and close the door behind her before he spoke again. “What are you working on today?” He asked as if it wasn’t the same thing she’d been working on for the past week.

"Still switching Pantora over to the new Imperial regulations. What about you?” She asked as if it wasn’t the same thing he’d been working on for the past month.

“Still the riots. And our presence is not helping the public’s stance on clones.”

“Ah, yes. That’s why COMPNOR is rebranding the force, right?”

When they reached her speeder, she remained standing as Fox ducked underneath the chassis to check for bombs.

“Yes, the stormtrooper program.” He said as he came back up empty-handed. “We’re not clones anymore, we’re storms.”

“Menacing.” She taunted as she leapt into the passenger’s seat. She waited until he was settled and they were above the city before continuing. “I’ve heard rumors that they’re going to start recruitment of non-clones into the program.”

“In the long run, yes, that’s the plan. I personally don’t think they’ll follow through on it after they see the first trials. Even Commander Cody couldn’t train a nat-born to be as proficient as we are.” Riyo had never met Marshal Commander Cody, but she knew him from the stories Fox had told of them growing up on Kamino. His reputation gave the prediction a hefty weight.

“Have you never heard of the phrase ‘quantity over quality’, Commander?” She teased, though she agreed with his opinion on the matter.

“Yes, Senator, but to be quite frank with you: we’re the best.” He cast her a sly look, or at least that was the body-language that so often accompanied a sly look.

“Oh, I know.” She reached over with her leg and tapped her knee against his. That was one of the most affectionate things she could do to him in public. Even in their offices they had to take some caution. She’d never realized how little clones cared for privacy until Stone walked into Fox’s office without knocking in the middle of a make-out session. She’d been in Fox’s lap at the time, mid-kiss, and had a front row view of Stone patiently holding out a datapad between them for Fox to sign. After that they stopped meeting in Fox’s office.

When they arrived at the Senate, Fox escorted her to her office, half a step behind her on her right. If she’d had to make a list of things she loved about him, this would be one of them. She’d never had other senators move out of her way so quickly as they did when Fox was with her. At her office, she took his hand in gratitude, giving him three quick squeezes before letting go. That was the other way she could show affection to him in public, by hidden movements in formal gestures.

“Thank you very much, Commander Fox. I shall see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They rarely spoke when out in public. It would be too easy for one of them to slip up and say something intimate. Besides, it kept their relationship looking strictly professional. No one else needed to know that she would see him again that evening for some unprofessional relations.

---

“How’s Riyo?”

“How’s janitorial duty?”

“Don’t try that with us.”

“We both know that we don’t have the manpower for punishments.”

Fox tried his best to glare at the two men sitting opposite his desk, but they had a point. They had lost too many men in the Jedi Purge.

“How’s Riyo?” Rys asked again.

“Ask her yourself.” Fox said.

“But she’s not here, so we’re asking you.” Jek shrugged.

“Where’s Thire?” Fox countered.

“The Emperor’s office.”

“Came in, checked his messages, and left just before you arrived according to the night shift.” Rys continued.

“Maybe they were awake after all.” Thire stepped into the office, holding a datapad with the Emperor’s seal across the back. “Looked like they were all dead on their feet this morning.”

Fox bit back a retort. Thire looked dead on his feet as well most days. Before the Empire, Thire had been able to get through most of the day before the misery set in. Fox used to be able to pinpoint the cause of the energy drain as working for the Chancellor and the high focus that came from serving him. Now, Fox could do nothing to alleviate the commander’s stress. The two of them were stretched too thin. If Thire had taken off his helmet, Fox would’ve seen dull, sunken eyes and too-prominent cheekbones. But he would never call him out for it in front of the men. “Thire, are you alright?” Fox gestured for Thire to sit, which was refused with a short wave of the hand.

“I’m fine, Fox. I just need a moment alone with you.”

On the word ‘alone’, Jek and Rys shot up, saluting their commanding officers before leaving. Thire didn’t move towards the empty chairs.

“What is it?” Fox asked, gesturing once more for Thire to sit.

Thire continued to stand. “Darth Vader would like to speak to you.”

Fox shot Thire a quizzical look. “Darth Vader? Who is that?”

“He… I don’t know. He works for the Emperor.” Thire had never tried to lie to Fox before, and Fox decided that he wouldn’t push him today. If it was something he needed to know, Thire would tell him. Better to let a bad lie slip away than train Thire to be a good liar. “He was in the briefing this morning. He said that he wants your assistance tracking down a Jedi.”

Now that was something he needed to know. Fox hesitantly took the datapad from Thire and began to scan over the Jedi’s file. His initial glance complete he turned his attention back to Thire. “Take me to Darth Vader.”

#foxiyo #commander fox #cc-1010 #riyo chuchi #commander thire #clone trooper jek #my fics #no choir fic

11 notes · View notes