#but all fattening up when they do come)

[magistralucis]

@absolut--kurant!

[aethersea]

another thing fantasy writers should keep track of is how much of their worldbuilding is aesthetic-based. it's not unlike the sci-fi hardness scale, which measures how closely a story holds to known, real principles of science. The Martian is extremely hard sci-fi, with nearly every detail being grounded in realistic fact as we know it; Star Trek is extremely soft sci-fi, with a vaguely plausible "space travel and no resource scarcity" premise used as a foundation for the wildest ideas the writers' room could come up with. and much as Star Trek fuckin rules, there's nothing wrong with aesthetic-based fantasy worldbuilding!

(sidenote we're not calling this 'soft fantasy' bc there's already a hard/soft divide in fantasy: hard magic follows consistent rules, like "earthbenders can always and only bend earth", and soft magic follows vague rules that often just ~feel right~, like the Force. this frankly kinda maps, but I'm not talking about just the magic, I'm talking about the worldbuilding as a whole.

actually for the purposes of this post we're calling it grounded vs airy fantasy, bc that's succinct and sounds cool.)

a great example of grounded fantasy is Dungeon Meshi: the dungeon ecosystem is meticulously thought out, the plot is driven by the very realistic need to eat well while adventuring, the story touches on both social and psychological effects of the whole 'no one dies forever down here' situation, the list goes on. the worldbuilding wants to be engaged with on a mechanical level and it rewards that engagement.

deliberately airy fantasy is less common, because in a funny way it's much harder to do. people tend to like explanations. it takes skill to pull off "the world is this way because I said so." Narnia manages: these kids fall into a magic world through the back of a wardrobe, befriend talking beavers who drink tea, get weapons from Santa Claus, dance with Bacchus and his maenads, and sail to the edge of the world, without ever breaking suspension of disbelief. it works because every new thing that happens fits the vibes. it's all just vibes! engaging with the worldbuilding on a mechanical level wouldn't just be futile, it'd be missing the point entirely.

the reason I started off calling this aesthetic-based is that an airy story will usually lean hard on an existing aesthetic, ideally one that's widely known by the target audience. Lewis was drawing on fables, fairy tales, myths, children's stories, and the vague idea of ~medieval europe~ that is to this day our most generic fantasy setting. when a prince falls in love with a fallen star, when there are giants who welcome lost children warmly and fatten them up for the feast, it all fits because these are things we'd expect to find in this story. none of this jars against what we've already seen.

and the point of it is to be wondrous and whimsical, to set the tone for the story Lewis wants to tell. and it does a great job! the airy worldbuilding serves the purposes of the story, and it's no less elegant than Ryōko Kui's elaborately grounded dungeon. neither kind of worldbuilding is better than the other.

however.

you do have to know which one you're doing.

the whole reason I'm writing this is that I saw yet another long, entertaining post dragging GRRM for absolute filth. asoiaf is a fun one because on some axes it's pretty grounded (political fuck-around-and-find-out, rumors spread farther than fact, fastest way to lose a war is to let your people starve, etc), but on others it's entirely airy (some people have magic Just Cause, the various peoples are each based on an aesthetic/stereotype/cliché with no real thought to how they influence each other as neighbors, the super-long seasons have no effect on ecology, etc).

and again! none of this is actually bad! (well ok some of those stereotypes are quite bigoted. but other than that this isn't bad.) there's nothing wrong with the season thing being there to highlight how the nobles are focused on short-sighted wars for power instead of storing up resources for the extremely dangerous and inevitable winter, that's a nice allegory, and the looming threat of many harsh years set the narrative tone. and you can always mix and match airy and grounded worldbuilding – everyone does it, frankly it's a necessity, because sooner or later the answer to every worldbuilding question is "because the author wanted it to be that way." the only completely grounded writing is nonfiction.

the problem is when you pretend that your entirely airy worldbuilding is actually super duper grounded. like, for instance, claiming that your vibes-based depiction of Medieval Europe (Gritty Edition) is completely historical, and then never even showing anyone spinning. or sniffing dismissively at Tolkien for not detailing Aragorn's tax policy, and then never addressing how a pre-industrial grain-based agricultural society is going years without harvesting any crops. (stored grain goes bad! you can't even mouse-proof your silos, how are you going to deal with mold?) and the list goes on.

the man went up on national television and invited us to engage with his worldbuilding mechanically, and then if you actually do that, it shatters like spun sugar under the pressure. doesn't he realize that's not the part of the story that's load-bearing! he should've directed our focus to the political machinations and extensive trope deconstruction, not the handwavey bit.

point is, as a fantasy writer there will always be some amount of your worldbuilding that boils down to 'because I said so,' and there's nothing wrong with that. nor is there anything wrong with making that your whole thing – airy worldbuilding can be beautiful and inspiring. but you have to be aware of what you're doing, because if you ask your readers to engage with the worldbuilding in gritty mechanical detail, you had better have some actual mechanics to show them.

[dmitriene]

cw: selling reader to close the debt, groping, kidnapping, dubcon, thoughts of impregnating.

being sold to outlaw könig, just so your daddy would be able to pay his debt to him, and since he had nothing but you, your dad got together to sell your pretty face to this terrible brute of a man, and your life was over about the moment when he brazenly picked you up in his arms and carried you to his horse with a satisfied squint of blue eyes.

you didn't understand why you had to answer for your father's debts, and even though könig ain't tried to harm you, he didn't react to the thick tears running down your cheeks and chin all the road that you were pressed against his chest, whimpering as he roughly squeezed at the softness of your body over your dress, cruel chuckle slipping from beneath the hood at his face.

könig didn't resell you to any other people, ain't even made a slave out of you, he gave you a clean, spacious room that belonged only to you in a house that wasn't bad, clean, looking like he didn't even live there, but instead of thanking him with your innocent eyes and chirping words, you had to run away from him, not knowing what awaits you.

the lingering perverse of his calloused touch on your body everytime he could grope you over your dress, nuzzle his face in your neck even through your shrieks and small kicks of your fists against his muscular chest, könig likes seeing you pick up a fight like a feisty kitten, not knowing that he's a predator there, and you're bounded to be with him.

to wipe puddles of blood on the floor almost everytime he comes back home by the night, stumbling through the doorway, to let him seat you on his beefy lap and press his face in your shoulder, palming at your body through almost translucent fabric of your nightie, doing a little job of hiding the softness of your curves, making his heavy, fattened erection poke in the swell of your ass.

but you wouldn't claw at him if he'd bury his thick cock in your weepy pussy, you can mewl that it's disgusting and he's gross all you want, while bouncing prettily on his fat cock, letting the ridge of his cockhead prod at the sweet, virgin spot in your cunt, your hole pulsing and oozing syrupy slick at every hump of his hips, hands holding onto his huge shoulders, as his rough palms swallow the fat of your asscheeks.

you should be grateful he kept you alive, hübsches lamm, and perhaps if he'll cream your pussy with his thick seed, sending you to sleep in your room with cum soaked panties, you'll be more docile, acting like you never been sold to könig, but belonged to him from the start.

his sweet little wifey, the one he would knock up as soon as possible, and then, you will be tied to him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[levisjinchuriki]

always will be - toji fushiguro

summary: you know the key to a man's heart is through his stomach. toji is no exception

warning: fluff!!!!!!, kisses

written separately, but can be read as pt. 2 of more to love!

toji had always been intimidatingly fit. his sharp abs, toned arms, and broad chest reflected years of discipline and a lifestyle that demanded he stay in peak condition. it wasn’t something he flaunted—walking around shirtless in his own home was just how he lived. he didn’t think much of it, and neither did you.

after deciding to move in together, subtle changes crept into his life, ones he hadn’t anticipated. every night, he came home to a hot and ready meal. you always made sure it was his favorites, learning his preferences without him needing to say much. and the snacks—that was his biggest weakness. you were thoughtful enough to have something sweet or savory on hand, excusing it by saying “just in case you get hungry later.”

now, as toji pads around your shared home, shirtless as always, you can’t help but notice the differences in his physique. his abs are softer now, the faintest hint of a tummy forming where there used to be none. his arms, still strong, have lost some of their definition.

the late-night snacks you share, the hearty dinners you insist he eats after long days, and the lazy mornings spent curled up in bed instead of at the gym— all of it has added up.

at first, toji doesn’t think much of it. he’s always had a big appetite—one you happily indulge. but over the weeks, the changes become harder to ignore. his pants fit a little snug, and the shirts that once fit comfortably now cling to his chest and stomach.

toji glances down at his stomach, giving it an experimental poke. his finger sinks into a soft layer that wasn’t there before. he grunts in realization, muttering to himself “guess i’ve been slacking.”

but it’s not slacking—it’s comfort. love. the ease of sharing a life with someone who makes him feel whole.

“babe” your voice calls sweetly from the kitchen. “breakfast is ready!”. the smell of sugar and cinnamon hits him as he makes his way to the kitchen. and then he sees it– the biggest, gooiest cinnamon roll he’s ever laid eyes on, sitting proudly on a plate you’re setting on the table.

“you’re trying to fatten me up, aren’t you?” he accuses with a smirk.

you glance up, genuinely confused. “what are you talking about?”. cooking for him has always brought you joy.�� watching him devour every meal you set in front of him, finishing with a satisfied hum and going up for another serving makes you feel like you’re doing something right. he’s never complained once, and the empty plates he leaves behind are all the validation you’ve ever needed.

toji gestures at his waist, where the elastic band of his sweatpants sits noticeably tighter than it used to. “these don’t fit anymore”.

your cheeks flush. you know full well you’re the reason for the changes, but it’s not something you feel guilty about. if anything, it makes you proud.

“not my fault” you protest, crossing your arms with a playful pout. “you’re the one who goes back for thirds”. your eyes wander over him, noticing how his facial features have softened in the time since you moved in together. his jawline isn’t quite as sharp as it used to be, and there’s a slight fullness in his cheeks now—a small change, one you can’t help but adore.

it’s not just his body that’s softened. there’s a new ease to him, a sense of comfort and peace that wasn’t there before. it shows in the way his shoulders relax when he walks through the door, in the way his laughter comes more freely these days, and in the warmth of his teasing smirk now.

“i think it’s cute” you add softly, your lips curving into a warm smile. you mean it, too. toji might not have the razor-sharp physique he once did, but he’s still the man you fell in love with—strong, handsome, and completely yours.

“cute?” toji raises an eyebrow. “i’m supposed to be intimidating, not cute” he retorts, his deep voice tinged with mock offense. but even as he says it, he knows the truth—he’s gone soft being with you, in more ways than one.

“yeah” you tease, stepping within reach. you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “but you look happy”. 

you’re not wrong. for the first time in his life, toji feels truly content. he doesn’t have to keep his guard up or keep himself for the next battle. instead, he has you, a warm home, and a life that no longer feels like a constant fight for survival.

if it costs him a few extra pounds, he can live with it—because for the first time, it feels like he’s really living.

he smiles, the sincerity in his expression reaching his eyes. “i am happy” he says quietly.

your heart swells at his admission, warmth spreading through your chest. your own smile mirrors his as you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“you better be. or i’ll stop feeding you” you tease after pulling away.

toji’s eyes narrow, his brows drawing together in a warning. “don’t you dare”. 

before you can react, he pulls you into his lap, guiding your back against his chest with ease. his grip tightens around your waist, and you settle into him, feeling the heat of his body pressing against yours. you both share a few playful, soft and lingering kisses before toji reaches for his breakfast. 

he breaks off a piece and offers you the first bite, feeding it to you with such tenderness. his lips hover near yours as he leans in to steal a quick kiss, humming in appreciation of the sweet frosting that sticks to you. 

if you’re being honest– you’ve noticed the changes in him. the extra pounds that have slowly added up, the snug fit of his shirts, the softness in his once-defined features. but it’s not something that bothers you. in fact, it only makes you love him more. the softening of his body is a symbol of the comfort, the safety, and the ease he’s found with you.

you rest your head against him, loving that he’s comfortable with you, comfortable in this space you’ve created together. toji doesn’t have to be the intimidating, hardened man he was before. he’s allowed to relax, to soften in all the best ways.

“i think you look perfect” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

the edge of toji's smirk falters. perfect. it's not a word he’s used to associating with himself. toji knows his scars, his flaws, the rough edges he’s tried to smooth out over the years. perfect was for things he never thought he could have, for people he never thought he deserved.

but here you are, saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

toji tightens his grip around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. he doesn’t speak right away. instead, he lowers his head, his nose brushing softly against your temple, as he repeats the sentence in his head.

“you really think so?” he asks, his voice hesitant.

you tilt your head to meet his gaze, your smile warm and unwavering. “of course. you’ve always been perfect to me. always will be".

the sincerity in your voice is enough to ease his worries. he believes you, knowing you'd never lie to him. he doesn’t know how to respond—how to put into words what your belief in him does to his heart.

so instead, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours. he's gentle, even as he deepens it. it’s not just a kiss; it’s a thank you, a promise, and a confession all rolled into one.

“guess i can live with that” he murmurs against your lips, his smirk returning, softer now. there’s a warmth in his eyes, an acceptance of something he’s still trying to believe.

---

a/n: thank you for reading. happy new year!! <3 what are your resolutions this year?

[wyvernest]

mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

[sunnie-angel]

week 2 (oct. 11) | overstimulation

✮⋆˙ lay all your love on me (3k)

jason needs to come. a lot. what's a good partner supposed to do but give him a helping orgasm? or two? or three?

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, groping, dirty talk, cum play, slight objectification, hand job, begging, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

a/n: working title was "jerking him off until he cries". @sanguineterrain at last the handjob fic i promised you

⊘ this is an 18+ fic. minors do not interact, you will be blocked

Jason Todd enjoys being the little spoon. It takes a weight off of his shoulders to curl up into you, have your chin hooked over his shoulder, and just trustingly melt. He’d been a little hesitant the first time you’d suggested it, sure that because of his size this wasn’t wanted from him. But after that first afternoon he’d leaned in a little more eagerly each time. Looked at you real sweet as he’d hemmed and hawed his way around asking if you two could cuddle again. Innocent, hoping for nothing more than a little light making out. Really, knowing how insatiable your appetite for him has been since the first time you’d kissed, he should have known that the two of you would end up here eventually.

It had started off innocently enough, the two of you spooning on the L-section of the couch he had insisted on buying when you had moved in together. Jason sits comfortably in the v of your legs with your arms wrapped around his stomach, warm and drowsy, some cooking show playing on the TV screen. He’d worn those grey sweatpants, the pair that you have a love-hate relationship with because of just how good they make his ass and thighs look. You haven’t been able to tear your eyes away from the faint outline of his cock through the cotton fabric. If asked, you probably couldn’t even name the show you’re supposed to be watching. He shifts, pulling the fabric tight against his cock. Saliva starts to pool in your mouth.

“Hey d’you mind if I try something?” you ask distractedly, focus narrowing to the crotch of his pants.

“What– OH,” he bites out as your hand closes around his dick, hips twitching and tone breathy.

“Go back to watching your show,” you shush him. “I just want to play a bit. You don’t mind, do you?” you ask. The fabric between your hand and his cock feels super-heated.

“I don’t– I don’t mind,” he manages to grit out. 

“Good.”

You move your hand along his shaft, gently squeezing, just trying to map out the shape of him now that you’re in no hurry. He’s a big boy, your Jason, proportional in all the right places. Trapping his dick against his leg, you stroke down, fabric bunching up beneath your palm. Jason’s breath stutters. Not wanting this to be over too quickly, you let him go. His hips twitch, chasing after your touch.

Instead you reach further down and cradle his balls in the palm of your hand. Roll them just to hear him moan quietly in your ear. If you had to guess, they feel heavier than usual, straining against the stretched grey fabric.

“Someone’s feeling a little pent up. Need a hand with that?” It’s some of your worst wordplay but it has the intended result.

“Might be,” he hedges.

Your other hand trails up to his pec and squeezes. His body is a lot more direct about what it wants, cock already fattening up in his pants.

“Getting fucked silly last night not enough for you, doll?” you pretend to pout.

“I cum a lot,” Jason confesses sheepishly, shame colouring his tone.

“Oh I know.” Fondly you think back to late nights in bed, Jason’s cum running down the inside of your thighs.

“I just mean that I hafta come a lot.” He tucks his chin into his chest. “Starts to get uncomfortable if I don’t at least twice a day. Hurts if I’m wearing the cup for patrol.”

You reward him for his honesty with another sharp drag at his twitching dick. On the television a contestant gets eliminated.

“So my big boy’s got a big load. Just more to fuck me full with,” you tell him smugly. He tries to thrust up into your hand, but you pull back, tutting. “Hey, you ever try and see just how much you can come?” You trace his chest through his shirt idly while he tries to piece together an answer.

“No?” his voice rises, tremors running through it as you dig your nail into his nipple. A damp spot starts to appear through his sweats, right where his purposefully neglected cock head sits. “It’s embarrassing enough I gotta jerk off a coupla times a day. Don’t wanna think about it too hard.”

“Yeah? Do you think of me every time you sneak off to have a furtive session in the bathroom?” you ask, half teasing half serious. Your hand closes around his shaft again. “When your balls tighten and your cock kicks in your hand, do you picture me?”

“Ye–ah,” he moans out, chest heaving. You press a kiss to the hinge of his jaw and flick at his nipple just to feel his breath catch.

“Good. Then I’m going to give you something real good to picture tomorrow, and you’re going to show me just how badly you need this. Don’t want my baby doll hurtin’ ‘cause he didn’t take the time to take care of himself.”

He nods, jaw clenching, as you finally thumb over his slit. Dig in to the growing damp patch with the pad of your thumb until fine tremors run up and down his spine. You let go just as he works up the nerve to try and thrust into the pressure.

Tapping at his hip, you urge him “Up, up. I want these off.”

With hands that feel dreadfully clumsy for their size, Jason manages to push his sweats and boxers down just far enough to free his dick from its confines. He almost dies from embarrassment over the way it nearly smacks against his stomach, practically drooling pre-come. On the TV, a new lightning round commences.

“Always so wet for me,” you murmur, slicking your hand with his pre. “I don’t think I even need lube for you, doll.”

The first pass of your hot hand over his bare skin is electrifying and Jason knows his first (of many, he hopes) orgasm isn’t far off. You set a fast pace, an extra twist of your wrist right below the head that has his stomach swooping. It’s white hot pressure, wet and good as you murmur soft praise into his ear. His hips start moving unconsciously, prolonging the drag of your palm on his cock. He moans when you tighten and release your grip intermittently, caught off guard by the sudden change in pressure. Flickering heat builds at the base of his spine, so strong he can taste it like iron on his tongue. Clever fingers pinch his nipples and he careens into orgasm eyes shut, teeth closing around his earlobe.

His cock twitches in your hand as he comes, spurts landing on his clothed chest and tummy. After an eternity stretches out, it slows to a dribble, thick white globs catching on your knuckles as you continue to stroke him through it. Letting go of his now sensitive dick, you drag your hand across his stomach, causing it to twitch, collecting the cum in your palm.

You hold up your hand for his inspection, rotate it back and forth to show him just how wet your hand has become. Embarrassment burns through Jason at the sight, lights up his cheeks and tightens his chest, the image of his copious desperation shining in the lamplight seared into his brain. Cum pools in the webbing of your fingers and starts to roll down your wrist in hot drips.

“Didn’t mean to make a mess,” he says, stomach still spasming and hips still twitching.

“No?” You press warm wet kisses along his jaw. “Then we’ll just have to keep going until you do mean to.”

The first tug at his cock is electrifying, back bowing tight as a string, his head dropping back onto your shoulder. You mouth at the warmed skin of his throat, adding just a hint of teeth as you trace the veiny underside of his dick with a slick finger.

“C’mon doll, I know you’ve got it in you to make a much bigger mess,” you croon, reaching down to tug and squeeze at his balls until he’s moaning like a whore for you. “Want you to give it all to me.” He starts grinding into the air in desperation.

“Please, can I– wanna fuck your fist. Please?” he whines. “Wanna come for your hand.”

You give a slow, leisurely stroke of his cock that has his shoulders shaking, before pulling off completely, hand still clenched in a loose fist.

“You’re so polite.” You press a kiss to his temple, hook your chin over his shoulder for a better view. “Now c’mon, good boys get to take what they want.”

His hips surge forward, every taut muscle in his body working to piston his dick in and out of your fist. It’s a heady feeling, watching him flex and strain under your hands, sweat beading on his forehead. Jason whines when you make him work for it, holding your hand a little further away so his hips have to arch just that much higher. He’s more flexible than you thought, a fact you file away for later. You tighten your grip and pull your hand closer, force Jason to change his pace to something jackrabbit fast, punched out little uh, uh, uhs falling from his mouth. With every stroke he’s slicking his cock up with his own cum, all shiny and wet.

“Look at you, all covered in cum for me. Your dick’s so pretty like this, puttin’ on a show,” you murmur.

“Jus’ f’r you. S’all yours,” he slurs, brain melting out of his ears.

“Yeah?” You press your thumb into the slit of his cock head. “So that means this cock is mine, right?” Jason nods frantically, keeps trying to fuck his whole length through the vice-like clutch of your hand but you’re not done playing yet. You grab his balls with your other hand. “All of this cum belongs to me?”

“Yours, all yours,” he gasps, so far gone he barely remembers his own name.

“That’s right doll,” you coo. Dig your fingers into the sensitive spot just under the head. “It’s my dick and my cum. Mine.” Heat burns through Jason’s veins, hums with the desire-shame thrumming through him and pools in the pit of his belly. “I fuck myself with my cock whenever I want and I get my cum whenever I want. And right now I want all of it.”

“Yeah wanna– wanna give it to you. Please. Need ta come. Need it. Need it need it,” he whines through gritted teeth, tendons pulling tight in his neck. His hands scrabble for something – anything to anchor him – and close around your thighs.

“Be a good doll and come then,” you instruct him, voice heavy with your own lust.

You start jerking him off in earnest, palm wrapped tight around the fat girth of his cock. He keens, body seizing up. A wet hand trails up to pinch at the tight bud of his nipple, leaving damp cum stains across the front of his shirt. Jason comes with a throaty groan on a particularly wicked twist of your wrist, tries to tuck his face into your neck. Rapt, you watch the thick white fluid dribble down his cock, sticky between your knuckles. With a steady hand you stroke him through his orgasm, more interested in the way his dick glistens than the pleasure-pain overstimulation he’s riding.

Cum pools at the base of his dick. Forms a frothy ring of creamy white from where your hand has churned it up, clings to his pubes and gathers in the divot just below his hip bone. Its still warm when you dip a finger into it, use it to draw idle patterns over the skin of his lower stomach where his shirt has ridden up. His muscles twitch and jump under his skin as he lets out a high and reedy sound. Sweat clings to his temples. The hands clinging to your thighs tremble as you continue to tug at his cock.

Jason’s next orgasm rolls over him, builds so gently he doesn’t notice it growing over the harsh passes of your hand over his dick. Only a little cum dribbles out this time, pearls at the fat head of his dick before slowly trailing its way home to your hands. He mewls when you bite down gently on the meat of his shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering, his head drops back to loll on you. Fine tremors rack his large frame as he limply clings to you, spent and vulnerable, raw with pleasure.

“Kiss, please,” Jason demands, fucked out and sweetly. Wetness dots the corners of his lashes as he gazes up at you, your pretty boy.

The kiss is almost chaste in comparison to everything that preceded it, closed mouth and sweet. He sighs into your mouth and melts into the cradle of your body. Shifts his hand to thread it through your fingers not currently rubbing cum into the heated skin of his cock. Jason’s mouth chases after yours, starved for tenderness. Pulling back, you lay your forehead on his and close your eyes. The two of you stay there, rough inhales evening out into something soft. Intimate.

“You were so good, baby. So good,” you murmur to him. Jason squirms a little at the praise. Or maybe at the way you slip a hand under his shirt at the same time. “Can you be good just a little longer? Want you to come again–” he whines, starts shaking his head, “–just once. Just one more, okay?” You dust kisses across the tip of his nose, the scrunched up space between his eyes. “You can do this, baby doll.”

“I can’t. I can’t,” he moans. His fingers clench and unclench around yours.

“Yes you can, I’ll be right there with you the whole time. You’re not doing this alone. Why don’t we just try, hmm?”

He looks up at you, hazy eyed and trusting. Jason’s curls are stuck to his damp forehead and there’s high spots of colour in his cheeks. His lips are shiny and swollen from where he’s bitten at them. Tongue darting out between his parted lips, the growing desire to be good, to give you what you’re asking of him, is nearly tangible in the air. What a sweet picture he makes, your doll. He looks like yours.

“Will you– will you kiss me through it? Don’t wanna get lost, don’t wanna be alone. Promise?”

“You can have as many kisses as you want,” you reassure him, squeeze his hand with your own. “You can have as many as you want after too.”

You kiss him and he melts. You kiss him and reshapes himself into the image you create for him. Hips twitching at every feather light touch to his cock, balls drawing up tighter and tighter with each breath. You swallow down every sigh and whimper, soak up the way his breath hitches as you neglect his cock to trail the pads of your fingers across the tense muscles of his stomach. How eager he is to open up to you, mouth parting for your entry. You flip his hand over so you can hold it properly, let him clutch it to his chest for comfort as finally you start teasing his dick again.

You work him over, running the flat of your hand against the length of it just to feel it struggle to get to full mast again. Jason cries out when you finally close a fist around the base of it. He settles down again with another soft kiss pressed to his open mouth. His hips start to roll with the slow, gentle pace you set, eyes closed. He gasps when you speed up the down stroke, still tortuously slow as you glide back toward the tip of his dick. Slowly the muscles of his thighs start to twitch, no longer relaxed as they begin to lock up. Something slow and cloying as tar builds at the base of his spine, tugging and clawing it’s way from the tips of his toes and the prickle of his scalp to settle low in his gut. He forgets to breath. 

Jason’s desperate, thrashing under your hold, trying to escape the drag of the blade across his nerves, pleasure spiking. He could break free, if that was really what he wanted. Instead he lets you draw things out, begs and pleads for more.

“S’too much. God. Don’t sto-p. Please.”

He feels strangely divorced from his body as he comes on an exhale, jaw slack and hips arching off the couch. One single spurt and then he’s coming dry. The force of it burns through him, toes curling, heart shaking. He’s light headed, limbs so weak Jason doesn’t think they’d hold him. He pants, trying to force air into his lungs as his ears ring. His molars hurt the same way they do when he touches a live wire. He looks at you with stars in his eyes, white spots dancing across his vision.

“Oh you were so perfect, doll. Didn’t I say you had one more in you?” You nuzzle into his cheek before tenderly placing a kiss there. “And look at how much you came!” Dragging a finger through the puddle around his dick, you giggle. “You’re going to have such a good time jerking off to this tomorrow.”

He groans at that thought, already pained at the idea of orgasming again anytime soon. Still, he lifts your twined hands together to press kisses to your sticky knuckles.

“No more sexy talk, okay? You’re gonna kill me. Let me enjoy the afterglow a little before you start planning to pull my soul out of my dick again.”

“Okay, okay! Glad to know you enjoyed yourself too,” you laugh. “I’ll go get a towel to clean you up and we can restart the episode.”

“The wh– oh.” Jason darts a sheepish glance back at the TV where the credits are already rolling.

[feeder86]

Guy and a Gain...Again!

“Fancy doing this with me?” Guy asked his housemate, holding up an advertisement for a triathlon in the Spring.

Baz winced slightly. He was certainly a very fit man, but there was no point in trying to compare his athleticism with the likes of Guy. Guy was an absolute machine; his body a temple; a testament to years of tireless dedication and training. “Nah…” he replied with a sigh. “It’s right around the time of Lucy’s birthday. She’ll probably want to do something special.”

Guy nodded and resisted the urge to complain. Baz had been so much more fun before he got with Lucy. Soon it would be just like all the rest of his old friends: engagements, weddings and children. How boring! In Guy’s opinion, it was always far better to keep things casual and pursue your own interests in life, rather than getting tied down. He’d only fallen in love once, and that hadn’t exactly ended well. The only person he could ever truly rely on was himself.

“That’s fine,” Guy smiled. “I think they do another one later in June.”

Baz shook his head. “No thanks, Buddy.”

Guy sighed as he watched his housemate disappear into his bedroom. It wasn’t that Guy needed any help paying the mortgage on this condo; he’d sweet talked his way up to quite a level of seniority in his job and was always looking about for the next jump into something better. No, Guy had always had a housemate for the simple fact that he hated being there on his own. He craved interaction and the glory days, when he lived in the college dorms, with plenty of people about, at all times of the day.

Despite how messy and occasionally disorganised Guy had been in college, his apartment was a perfect utopia of minimalistic calm. He excitedly plumped up the sofa cushion and set some frozen pizzas to heat up in the oven as his buddies Christian and Harry were back in town for the night. He’d met them years ago, back when he was still seeing Mikey, his best friend in college. With Mikey’s interest in gaining weight, the pair of them had visited a few feedism events in their time; with Guy picking up more than a few friends that he still kept in touch with.

“Look at you!” Guy swooned, seeing Harry as he strolled in, belly first. He’d gone softer and jigglier, purposefully bouncing as he walked as if to emphasise it further.

“I’m up 45lbs since you last saw me,” he boasted, kissing Guy on his cheek. “I’m only fifteen away from the big four hundred!”

“Impressive!” Guy laughed. There was just something so joyful about the way guys like him shamelessly enjoyed their bodies. He didn’t care what anyone said - it was a definite turn-on.

Sloping in behind Harry was his feeder boyfriend, Christian. Usually stick thin and trendy, he appeared that day to be more than a little bloated. A thickness had begun to encircle his waist and his handsome face had puffed up with a doughiness that was surprisingly distracting.

“What happened to you?” Guy teased, patting Christian on his under-exercised butt and failing to find the tightness he was used to. “All the feeding finally got the better of you, huh?”

Giant Harry turned around, smirking. “His fast metabolism crashed,” he explained, failing to hold back a chuckle. “Ten pounds was all it took and his little dick was craving more and more blubber.”

Guy laughed and looked over his buddy, Christian. When he’d met him a few years ago, he’d been one of the kinkiest and least compromising feeders Guy had ever come across. He’d taken chubby Harry and poured gallons and gallons of fattening shakes down his throat until he’d swelled into the rounded blob that he was today. Yet, now look at him; his kinks turning inwards. “What is it about you feeders?” Guy asked, full of disbelief for what had become of Christian. “It’s like you all have some sort of expiration date before you start going all soft.”

Christian shrugged. “What can I say?” he smiled. “It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” he nodded, raising his t-shirt a little to reveal the swollen, pot bellied middle on him.

“Jeez!” Guy marvelled, having never imagined such a thing on the boy before. “Look at that!”

“That’s not all,” Harry grinned, stepping around Christian and pulling back his lover’s sweatpants to uncover the top half of his broad butt and lifting his shirt up from the back.

Guy couldn’t help but laugh when he saw what Harry was showing him. He reached out and stroked the skin where Christian had had a brand new tattoo of a small pig tale inked onto his body. “You boys are such kinky little fuckers!” he marveled, instantly getting an erection.

“I wanted something that would ensure there was no going back,” Christian explained, equally aroused to be leaning forward and showing this off to Guy.

“And how do you feel about this?” Guy asked Harry. He had always been the submissive one in the relationship, despite seeming to enjoy a slightly more empowered status at present.

“I love it!” Harry laughed, grabbing a full roll of blubber from Christian’s side and jiggling it. “I’m going to triple every pound he put on me, sending it straight back onto him!”

Guy grinned, his eyes dancing with delight. He simply loved the kinky talk between these two. He always had. They knew exactly who they were, and were proud to embrace it.

An hour later, the three boys were lying in Guy’s supersized bed. Sweat pouring off them, pizza and crumbs filled the bed sheets as Guy lay back with the two chubs resting their heads on his broad shoulders. It had been the first time Christain had wanted to be fucked by him and, although he had made a valiant effort, he’d found Guy’s size too challenging to take. Instead, Harry had stepped up, bending over beautifully whilst a horny Chritain gorged his chubby face on everything available as he watched.

“Do you ever hear from Mikey these days?” Harry asked.

Guy sighed at the mention of Mikey’s name, but it hurt a lot less than it used to. “Not for a few years now,” he answered. It had been his own fault. He had been the one to stop replying to messages and never picking up the phone. However, he’d needed to step away for his own mental health. It didn’t do to dwell on a lost love.

“You should see him now,” Harry laughed, handing over his cell phone with a clear picture of Mikey from his gainer socials: enormously fat, rounded and bursting with lard. “He’s well over five hundred pounds these days.”

Guy studied the picture with awe. There was the boy he had once adored, now consumed by his own hunger and lust for fat; his neck a distant memory, his arms giant sacks of blubber. 

“Good for him!” Guy smiled fondly, remembering the skinny boy he had once fooled around with. “This is exactly the sort of shape he always wanted.”

“You should come with us to the gainer evening tomorrow,” Christian suggested just as Guy handed back the cell phone. 

Guy chuckled at the idea. “I haven’t been to one of those in years.”

“You do like gainers though,” Harry smiled, noticing that Guy’s hardness had been resurrected after seeing Mikey’s picture.

“My dick likes a lot of stuff,” Guy simply replied. “Body confidence most of all.” But as the boys talked and talked, he was gradually persuaded, agreeing to meet them there the next evening after his date with a girl from his gym.

Upon arriving past midnight, Guy left his shirt with the bartender, setting about to flirt and enjoy the attention of all the fat men who were ogling him. The gainer scene had come a long way since he’d last been out. The pot-bellied boys had been replaced by extreme superchubs with at least one scrawny-looking feeder under their giant arms. Guy flirted and played with them all, happy to indulge their fat kinks. Yet, there was one younger man, standing to the side who kept catching his attention: tall, handsome, with strong, rounded shoulders and a slim waist. Throughout the early hours of the morning he stood alone, watching from the sidelines, nursing a beer and not getting involved. 

Perhaps the gainer scene had become more insular and harder to break into as an outsider, Guy thought to himself. It wasn’t a problem that Guy had personally. Harry and Christian could both vouch for him, and his strapping body caught the attention of any he didn’t yet know. Guy, it could be said, had never been shy. Even as a non-drinker, he never failed to insert himself, front and center, into any social event.

“So, what brings you here?” Guy asked, heading over to the handsome boy and introducing himself, seeing as no one else seemed to be making an effort.

The man stood up a little straighter, as if on high alert. He shifted his feet and passed his beer from one hand to the other, looking as if he was unsure whether to give his real name or not. “Dillon,” he finally offered. “And… Oh… I don’t know…I was just curious,” he mumbled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to come and speak to him, let alone ask him why he was there.

Guy smiled, finding the awkwardness surprisingly cute. If the boy was here, at this gainer event, there was going to be something kinky about him; something just waiting to be unlocked. “Have you slept with many fat boys, Dillon?” he asked, knowing his forward question would continue to make the boy squirm with such amusing awkwardness.

Dillon shook his head. “No… I’ve… I’ve not long been out of a relationship.”

Guy nodded knowingly. “Ah, so now the shackles are off and you’re free to explore?” he laughed, feeling like he was getting somewhere at last.”Well, if you’re looking for a good fatty to fuck, I can highly recommend that one over there,” he pointed. “Just shy of three hundred pounds, growing fast and as kinky as they come. Want me to introduce you?”

Dillon shook his head quickly. “No, no… that’s okay,” he shot back shyly.

Again, Guy grinned, knowing that he still hadn’t quite hit upon the reason why such a conventionally good looking boy was there that evening. “Or… if you want…” he offered slowly and teasingly, “...I could introduce you to some good feeders,” he smiled, giving Dillon’s flat stomach a little pat.

Dillon stared back at him with wide, wondrous and almost childlike eyes. Bingo! There it was: the real reason Dillon had come along that night. 

“So, how long have you wanted to be a porker?” Guy rolled on, deciding to take it all in his stride. Of all the arousing conversations he had had that night, nothing had turned him on like this. There was just something so exciting about finding genuinely fresh meat in this scene.

“What makes you think I want to get fat?” Dillon asked, giving Guy more eye contact than he had managed before.

“Hmm, let me see!” Guy smiled “The little bulge in your pants when I mentioned it. The slightly higher pitch of your voice just now,” he shot back at him, chuckling.

Dillon looked around the room and back to Guy. “Do you think anyone else knows?” he asked shyly.

Guy laughed once again and swept his large arm over Dillon’s shoulders. “Well, you just told the biggest blabbermouth in the room, so… yeah, pretty soon everyone is going to know that you want to be a little lardass too!” he teased. He looked at the boy up and down and smiled. “You’ve really never told anyone before, have you?”

Dillon shook his head once more. Then he followed without question as Guy led him out of the venue and into a cab, heading back to his apartment. His prize, secret catch for the evening.

Guy awoke the next morning with Dillon lying on his front next to him, still naked and splayed. As Guy had teased him about his gainer kinks, the boy had seemed to submit more and more; sucking him off with excellent skills and finally bending over and letting Guy fuck him without reservations.

“Morning, Sleepy Head!” Guy teased as the boy rolled over and realised he was waking up in a stranger’s bed.

Dillon looked at Guy, clearly piecing everything back together from the night before. “I can’t believe we did all that last night,” he chuckled.

“I can,” Guy smirked back. He’d inserted his dick so deeply into Dillon’s butt after making him down a protein shake, he almost panicked when the boy came; so intense and extreme was his moaning. “So…” he began playfully, leaning on his side and looking directly into Dillon’s eyes, “...Is today the start of a whole new era for you?”

“What do you mean?” Dillon replie/d.

“Well, you said last night you’d never even been with a guy before, let alone had your gainer kinks indulged like that.” He smirked, remembering just how hard he had gotten Dillon. His erection had been like concrete. “I know you can talk the talk when it comes to letting go and getting fat, but do you really have what it takes?”

Already, Dillon’s dick was starting to levitate and stiffen.”Oh, I have no worries there,” he nodded. “I love food. What turns me on is the idea of being able to eat whatever I want, whenever I want it.”

“Genuine greed,” Guy smiled knowingly.

Dillon nodded once again. “I mean, being fed by someone to the point of being absolutely stuffed just doesn’t appeal to me as much as the idea of just…”

“Letting go,” Guy finished for him. The idea was appealing, especially for Guy who had never been much of a feeder himself. He’d tried several times in the past to pretend that forcing food down a gainer’s throat turned him on. However, the reality had always been that he didn’t have the patience for it. Fattening, for him, was something a gainer should do in their own time. He only wanted to enjoy the horniness that derived from the evolving transformation. Not that he had ever come across a gainer who felt that way.

Dillon had had to grab and tug at his hardness. “Letting go,” he repeated. “That’s exactly it!”

Guy smiled, watching the lust taking over the pretty boy. “You know your job as a gardener will have to go, don’t you?” he asked. “If you want to grow your ass, you’re going to need something where you can sit down on it throughout the day.”

“You think I should quit my job?” Dillon asked, turned on that Guy had even remembered how he earned his living.

“Of course I do,” Guy chuckled back, still just watching as Dillon’s fantastic arousal sent him to higher and higher levels of submission to his kink. “Trust me, as a guy who has fucked so many fatties in my time, letting go is more than just eating. It’s about letting that entire softening process take over your body. Laziness. Lethargy.”

Dillon was tugging at himself at a faster rate than ever as Guy spoke. “I’m going to hand in my notice first thing tomorrow morning,” he declared, seeming to get closer to climaxing as the words left his mouth. “I’m actually going to do this!”

“Good boy!” Guy grinned, watching the kink consuming Dillon and sending him into a frenzy of lust. He didn’t even flinch as Dillon squealed and ejaculated all over the bedsheets in every direction. How fucking sexy! That shy, quiet guy back in the club now making a great mess and freeing his secret desires. There was simply nothing better.

Guy could have kicked himself for not giving Dillon his real number when he left. At least, he certainly thought that’s what he had done. It was a force of habit. As the weeks went on, he often thought back to Dillon, wondering what had become of him. There was no doubt in Guy’s mind that his date that night wouldn’t have actually started gaining. He was too pretty and far too reserved outside of the bedroom to actually do that to himself. Still, his kinkiness for it had given Guy a boner more than once when he’d thought back to their night together.

Months had gone by before Guy saw Dillon again. He’d actually been on a date with a girl from his new gym when he’d spotted Dillon working behind the bar at the club he had taken her to. He’d recognised the handsome face right away, but his breath caught in his chest when he took in the boy’s body. The fattening had clearly started. Dressed in a smart white shirt, the cheap material clung to the emerging love handles that puffed themselves over the tight waistband of Dillon’s pants. An overall thickness had spread into his stomach and chest, whilst a slight padding appeared to have amassed itself under his chin. It was a decent forty pound gain if ever Guy had seen one; no added muscle, just clear laziness and overindulgence.

Guy sat his date at a table and headed straight over to the bar, losing all interest in anything else. As he approached, he witnessed Dillon at the bar, turning around to the ice bucket and observed the beauty of his swollen glutes, rounded and bulbous, without taking on the complete broadness that came with the obesity that could come later. Having not been with any other men since their night together, Guy’s mind was able to return to the memory their night with ease; picturing those small, tight little glutes as they had been. Now his dick felt more alive than it had all evening, and when Dillon turned to serve him, Guy only had one question: “What time do you finish tonight?”

Dillon laughed and raised an eyebrow. “What about your date over there?” he asked, pointing across the room. He’d clearly spotted Guy from the moment he’d entered the bar.

Guy looked back as well. His date was pretty and surprisingly intelligent, judging by their conversations that evening. But it wasn’t her he wanted to take home that night. He turned back to Dillon and simply repeated his question.

Dillon seemed to consider it for a second. “Midnight,” he simply replied, knowing that Guy would be waiting outside to pick him up as soon as the clock struck twelve.

Getting rid of Guy’s date had been easy. He’d simply dialled back to flirtation and acted as a gentleman, taking her home with only a sweet kiss on her doorstep. Making her wait for a second date for anything more would only guarantee that she would be more eager next time.

“Well, well, well…” Guy grinned, leaning against the roof of his sports car as he witnessed an almost chubby-looking Dillon strolling out of the bar later that night. “Look at you!”

Dillon smiled and rubbed at his torso, seeing that they were going to bypass all the usual pleasantries. “I’m getting there,” he nodded. “It’s all just very slow. I feel like I should be bigger than this by now.”

Guy rocked his head to the side, inviting Dillon to climb into his car. Then the pair of them set off.

“I need to stop for something to eat first,” Dillon pointed, highlighting a fast food place only a few yards down the street.

Guy resisted sighing. He’d been waiting to get his hands on that bigger butt for some time. Now he had to wait whilst Dillon did the typically boring gainer stuffing? Nonetheless, he dutifully pulled over and followed the guy inside. He noticed a couple of the guys nodding at each other with a smirk at the sight of Dillon, as if they knew him all too well as a fixture around here. Then one attendant went to the cash register, bracing himself against it, as if preparing for something quite extreme from Dillon.

“Good evening,” he smiled dutifully. “What’ll it be tonight?”

A greedy little tongue slipped very subtly out of Dillon’s mouth, moistening his lips and he swallowed at the smell of everything cooking behind the counter. He began listing off a great number of items with ease that made Guy realise just how long they were going to be stuck here.

“Anything for you, Sir?” the young worker asked, seeming to know that everything that had come before it would be consumed entirely by Dillon.

Guy declined. He never ate at these sorts of places, but dutifully paid with his card, much like he would do with any of his dates. A great mountain of food began piling up on the tray and the two men soon retreated to a quiet table in the corner so that Guy could wait for Dillon to gorge himself.

“I see you quit the gardening job,” Guy smiled, appreciating how handsome Dillon looked in a shirt.

Dillon nodded; his eyes only on his food as he began throwing fries and nuggets into his mouth. “You were right. It was the perfect first step. I needed to cut the excessive calorie expenditure, day-to-day.”

Although Guy had come across more than a few gainers in his time, none of them had set about eating in the way that Dillon did. The boy seemed genuinely hungry, attacking the food in a cold and almost calculating manner, as if to ensure it was consumed in the most rapid way possible. He didn’t care that his mouth was sometimes full as he replied to their conversation, and he didn’t whimper with submission or lust as he started the third and then fourth burger. Nothing about the scenario was in any way theatrical, making this, by anyone’s standards, an act of pure greed. A chubby boy who simply loved his food.

“So that’s how I came to work at the bar,” Dillon finished fifteen minutes later, wiping his mouth with a napkin and sighing with relief as his stomach bloated more than ever before. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked, not even pausing to burp or appreciate his immense gluttony.

Unpeeling Dillon from his tight clothes that night had been one of the most erotic things Guy had done in years. A plush layer of fat had spread across the boy’s body, but pooled especially well in his love handles, chest and stomach. Guy growled with lust as he saw those doughy glutes and the pair set to pleasuring each other as if they had an expertise on how to make the other moan with lust.

Falling asleep with a hand resting on Dillon’s hip, Guy had felt more content than he had in quite some time. However, he awoke a couple of hours later, noticing that his date had slipped out unnoticed. He got up, pulling his underwear back on, just in case his roommate was sleeping there that night, even though he doubted that would be the case. Then he strolled into the living space hearing the sound of crunching over by the counter and the hunched silhouette of Dillion, sitting at a bar stool. He’d helped himself to a large bowl of sugary cereal that definitely didn’t belong to Guy and was busy munching away.

“It’s three in the morning!” Guy whispered, coming up behind the chubby boy, slipping his hands around his torso and kissing him on the side of his neck. “What are you doing up?”

Dillon chewed and swallowed. “I always get hungry at night,” he explained. “When I was growing up, my parents taught me to just ignore it. They said it wasn’t good for me to eat in the middle of the night. Now I don’t need to worry about that.”

Guy chuckled, nuzzling into Dillon even more and rubbing his protruding stomach. The more stories like this he heard, the more he realised that Dillon hah always been a fat boy, trapped in the body of a thin person. Slouched as he was now, his stomach fat seemed even more developed than Guy had realised, with his buttery nipples beginning to balloon and sag every so slightly onto the shelf below.

“Has anyone played with your tits yet?” Guy asked, beginning to massage them as Dillon resumed his eating. He’d remembered gainers telling him in the past how sensitive the nipples became as boys fattened up; he’d made more than one fatty climax simply by playing with them in the same way he would stimulate all the girls he had slept with.

Dillon moaned a little and twitched with stimulation. Guy could tell he’d never experienced anything like it before; perhaps not even realised that he had been developing such an erogenous zone. “That feels really nice,” he sighed, leaning back into Guy’s muscular chest.

“You wait until I have even more fat to play with here,” Guy teased. “If you think this feels good now…”

Dillon sighed with contentment at the idea. One thing was for certain: there was no way he was leaving without Guy’s real number that time.

“I want you to meet, Dillon,” Guy smiled, moving out of the way so that he could push Dillon forward. It had been a good few months since the last gainer event where Dillon had failed to make an impression. It was the reason why Guy had cleared his diary to make sure he could take him to this next one; holding his hand as they walked in.

Like a piece of meat, the eyes of all the men went up and down Dillon’s body. Guy stood back with pride. The boy’s love handles and protrusive stomach were some of his greatest features, but his butt too had developed a mass to it that was anything but athletic. However, more than anything else, the ring of freshly shaved fat that was starting to wrap itself under Dillon’s chin was undoubtedly the finest achievement of all. This wasn’t just a chubby boy they were dealing with; this was a true fat-boy glutton.

They hadn’t believed Guy when he’d explained how quickly Dillon had packed on his now eighty pounds of excess blubber, but the angry looking stretch marks surrounding Dillon’s belly button had gone some way to convincing them that he hadn’t just made it all up. Although he and Dillon were not officially an item at this event, Guy stuck close to him, feeling oddly protective. Usually, at events like these, Guy would have pulled his shirt off and enjoyed as much attention for his strapping body as possible. However, that night was all about Dillon and getting him connected with as many in the scene as possible.

Guy looked around seeing how many of the gainers and admirers were checking Dillon out; his handsome face and doughy body that seemed to cry out that this was a recent and rapid weight gain. Guy wanted them to look and see for themselves,but then another emotion began creeping in as well. Dillon was his discovery. He was the one who had helped him unleash the gainer and the one with a dominant hand on that big, wide rear. Why should anyone else feel they had a chance with him?

“So, how was it?” Guy asked afterwards, leading the way back to his car and secretly glad to be getting out of there’ especially after Dillon had told him he wanted to leave and get some food instead.

“Pretty great,” Dillon smiled, hopping into the passenger seat. “There were some very tight clothes on show though.”

Guy nodded. Dillon wasn’t the type to advertise his weight gain with figure hugging t-shirts or pants. “Well, some guys just like to show off,” he explained diplomatically. “Wearing tight clothes makes them feel even bigger and fatter than they are.”

Dillon nodded, noting some appeal in it. “But it’s just a fact of life,” he shrugged. “You overeat and your clothes get too small. What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, really?” Guy laughed. “Just a fact of life, huh? Maybe I’ll say that to you next time I notice your dick getting even shorter,” he teased, having witnessed Dillon squirting everywhere even at the mere mention of the groin fat that was starting to take off down there. He leaned in and kissed the fat boy, letting his large hand slide down the protrusive tummy and in-between his legs. There it was, the ever shrinking hardness, ready to go yet again.

“A point well made,” Dillon smirked back in surrender.

Guy smiled and started the engine. He’d stop off at a fast food place and buy a load of stuff for Dillon to gorge himself on as he drove home. It was one of the things Guy liked best about him; Dillon didn’t need or want him forcing the food down his throat. He was more than capable of feeding his ravenous appetite himself. All Guy needed to do was place a gentle, encouraging hand on his thigh every now and then as he drove. Then, once they made it home, Dillon would be more than stuffed and wound up like a tightly coiled spring, bursting with arousal and more than ready to head straight to the bedroom with him.

“Who are you messaging?” Guy asked a few months later as he came in with a tray of breakfast pastries for his lover.

“No one,” shrugged Dillon, hastily dropping his cell phone in favor of the food.

Guy felt a little uncomfortable. It was a new feeling to him, this gnawing sense of jealousy. He’d first noticed it at the last gainer event they went to, and it had plagued his mind ever since. It was a selfish impulse, he reasoned. He himself had certainly got around with multiple people since he had started seeing Dillon. They were in no way exclusive and neither of them had ever expressed an interest in being so. So why did Guy have to fight back an unreasonable urge to check Dillon’s phone as the chub trotted off to the bathroom?

“I love having you here,” Guy whispered into Dillon’s ear as the pair still lay in bed, even as lunchtime approached. He had his hand draped over Dillon’s chubby belly and he rocked it, full of admiration for how much the guy had transformed himself in the last eighteen months. “How about you stay here tonight as well? We could watch a movie, order in some pizzas….”

“I can’t,” Dillon replied straight away. “I’m meeting up with a friend.”

Guy nodded. “Nice!” he smiled, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to pry. He didn’t have the right to feel the strange jealousy that had swept over him. “Are you up to something fun?”

Dillon nodded. “He’s going to teach me how to boost my capacity with pizza,” he chuckled, patting his large, padded stomach.

Guy nodded and pulled his lips back into a false smile, as if this all didn’t bother him, especially seeing Dillon getting aroused by just the idea of what was to come. “You’ve got to eat like a five hundred pound fatty if you hope to become one!” he nodded, repeating one of Dillon’s favorite mantras back to him whilst rubbing the boy’s rounded stomach.

Although the opportunity to work in London had been something Guy had wanted ever since he had joined his company, the month-long placement couldn’t have come at a worse time in his eyes. As Dillon became more involved with other gainers, Guy felt like he was less important in the man’s life. He was also going to be away when Dillon finally started his new office job and disliked the thought of missing out on such an important step in his lover’s life.

The girls in London had a sexy, alluring sophistication about them. However, no matter how many of them he bedded, Guy’s mind kept thinking of Dillon. He felt utterly smitten, messaging him as much as he could, always eager for updates.

Guy had been a victim of his own success. Everyone loved him in London, declaring that they had never come across anyone so capable of taking over the world of business. The project he had started at work began to take on a life of its own, building incredible momentum. He remembered the bittersweet feeling when he realised he was going to be away far longer than the original month he had planned. However, by the end of the fourth month, Guy knew that the scheme was ready to be handed over; with plenty of scope for him to implement similar changes back home. 

With a week off from work after getting back, Guy headed straight over to see Dillon. He carried with him a large bag filled with treats and presents from London and was excited to see how the fattening man was going to react to them all. He knocked on the apartment door, his breath catching in his throat with anticipation.

Suddenly, Dillon was standing there looking remarkably changed. The fat under his neck had swollen immensely, giving Dillon one of the largest double chins he’d seen on a gainer of his size in quite some time. His beautiful eyes had seemed smaller, as large, puffy cheeks dominated his face and his plump, kissable lips now looked like the gateway to a greedy, gluttonous mouth that would consume anything it came across.

The pair hugged and kissed; Guy’s hands roaming across all areas of the remarkably fatter and softer body. Lard had spilled into areas where Guy had never seen it before. Dillon spun around and posed for him, excited by his own remarkable transformation. With a desk job, the gainer’s glutes had seemed to shed all remaining muscle and bloat with pure blubber. He wanted it touched, handled and jiggled, directing an already aroused Guy on how best to experience the new softness. Three hundred and eighty pounds had never seemed so erotic when the person carrying it all loved it so much.

“I was half expecting you to have gained a few pounds after working so hard in London all those months,” Dillon chuckled, gazing upon the immortal physical perfection of Guy; unchanged. 

Guy slipped off his underwear and delighted in taking the kinky boy into his bedroom for a session he would never forget.

Being intimate with Dillon had cemented the feelings Guy had had during their separation. He was in love with him; utterly and completely: the easy way they communicated, the confidence with which they both held their vastly contrasting bodies. Dillon was touched by the gifts and how much Guy had remembered about his tastes and interests. Guy held him sweetly as the both drifted off to sleep.

“I’ve been thinking,” Guy began, feeling decidedly nervous later that night. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“So do I…” Dillon smiled back, acting as if he knew exactly what Guy was going to say.

“I know you’re doing so well with your weight gain now,” Guy smiled, unable to resist rubbing the fattened gut in appreciation; marvelling at the sagging nipples that had bounced and jumped the entire time Guy had been fucking him. “Your next milestone is so close. But, how would you feel about hitting four hundred… in London?”

“In London?” Dillon parroted back in surprise.

“They made me quite the lucrative offer before I left. I don’t have to take it, of course, but… come on! Don’t you think it would be so exciting?” he cheered, smiling brightly. “You and me, living in London together? All those restaurants and famous landmarks? I thought of all the places I want to take you. You can grow enormous there. I can give you everything you want. You don’t even need to work, given how much they want to pay me.”

“Guy, this is...” Dillon mumbled, overwhelmed.

“I know, I know… this is huge! But these last four months without you…” he sighed, remembering how utterly miserable he’d been at times. He’d only felt this way about one other person in his life, and he had lost out because he had never managed to build up the courage to say how he felt. Not this time…

“Yeah, it was a long time,” Dillon agreed, unprepared for what Guy was about to say to him next.

“I’m in love with you!” Guy blurted, staring deeply into Dillon’s eyes and wrapping his large hands around his bloated face.

Dillon was stunned into silence. “Guy.. that’s amazing… that’s…” he stumbled. 

“You don’t feel the same way…” Guy sighed in stark realisation.

“Well, it’s not as black and white as that…” Dillon mumbled on, clearly trying to catch his brain up with his mouth. “I think it could really work, us living together in London. I really do! But I have so much going on here now. I’m having so much fun supporting other gainers. You not being around gave me time to really lean in hard to all this. It’s the reason why I already broke my desk chair at work,” he chuckled, mentioning it for the third time since Guy had arrived.

“You didn’t miss me?” Guy shot back, feeling like his heart was about to be shattered.

“I did!” Dillon replied unconvincingly. “I was just…” he rambled, still figuring out what he wanted to say. He sighed deeply. “If I’m honest… I was just a little disappointed that you didn’t come back from London a little heavier than when you left.”

Guy looked down at his flat, chiselled stomach. “What?” he blasted.

“I’ve wanted you to gain weight for the longest time. I thought, the more we hung out together, the more likely it would be for my bad habits to rub off on you.”

Guy sat back a little, rethinking everything he thought he knew about Dillon.

“I’m not the only one,” Dillon marched on. “All the gainers we’ve met together say the same thing. We all can’t wait for you to give up the gym and start pushing out a gut.”

“Is that so?” Guy huffed back.

“It’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’d look so fucking hot! You’ve got the build for it. If we moved to London, I could make you huge!”

Guy stood up and started dressing, suddenly realising how badly he had misread his relationship with Dillon. “Gaining is your thing, not mine,” he explained calmly. “I like the way I look and I fell for you because I loved giving you the sort of confidence that I feel in my own skin.”

“But, trust me… when you start putting on your first few pounds…” Dillon retorted, like an all-knowing sage.

“It’s not me!” Guy shot back, cutting him short. “And you’d know that had you been paying any attention at all to me over the last couple of years.” He felt a sudden surge of annoyance. “Tell me… where did I grow up? What’s my middle name? When’s my birthday? Where did I go to college?”

Dillon looked blankly back. He really didn’t remember the answer to any of those questions. And so he watched as Dillon slipped his shirt on, then made his way out of the apartment for the last time.

“Jeff…” Guy said down the phone the moment he made it down the stairs. “I’m sorry to call when it’s so early in the morning there. I wanted to tell you that I’ve thought about your offer…” he explained.

Guy took a breath. This was a huge decision that would change everything.

“I accept,” he stated with absolute certainty. “How soon do you want me back in London?”

[listentoace]

Oh honey, just look at yourself. You gained another pound, didn't you? I thought you said you were going to slow things down. You just wanted to have a little fun, enjoy that bit of pudge, and be done with it. But that was 15 pounds ago, am I right? You said you were going to stop, over and over again, but the weight just keeps piling on. You don't even give off the impression that you're even trying to slow things down. I can see you snacking all day long, enjoy some junk food here and there, and I don't know when I've last seen you drink water instead of soda. You go for seconds more and more often, sometimes even thirds, if you really like the food, and don't think I don't notice you unbuttoning those pants before dessert comes around.

Your hips are softening up, your muffin top is growing into a real belly, and even your arms are starting to strain against your sleeves. You can't tell me you don't notice how all your clothes feel tighter. In fact, when you're wearing something that used to be a bit tighter already, where your fat just flows out right now, you look hideous. Look... You know just as well what you said. Gain a bit, have some fun, lose the weight again. So far, you've only managed to do two of those things. But darling, it's fine. If you want to be a little fatty, just keep eating.

I like how your body is changing. Your boobs are getting bigger, and your ass is getting really wide and juicy. And the way your belly rubs up against me when we are in bed is both cute and really hot. You may also have noticed how I kept stocking up on your favorite snacks, knowing you'd find and eat them all. And, if I'm being completely honest, you look hotter than ever. You're turning into such a fat mess, such a beautiful, fattened piggy, that it would be a shame to stop now. I know you love this. The food, the indulgence, the fat growing on your body. Just embrace it and admit to yourself that you won't be stopping anytime soon. It's not like you'd want that anyways, right? You chose this. You know you want more ~

[epigstolary]

Tough Guy

Tw: Fat shaming, toxic masculinity, gaining as femininity

I can’t believe you still try to act like the big, muscly tough guy you used to be several hundred pounds ago. I mean, come on, who do you think you’re fooling? You’re about as intimidating as a baby elephant. Sure, the deep voice and the sleeve tattoos probably probably made you look pretty tough when you were in shape and 200lbs of muscle; but baby, those days are long gone. There’s a ton of fat packed onto whatever’s left of your physique under there. Those tattoos have gotten stretched and folded over your fat rolls so much that I can barely tell what they are anymore. And I just can’t take the deep voice seriously when it comes out so husky in between the labored wheezing that passes for breathing with you. Nobody’s gonna be shaking in their boots when you’re out of breath just from sitting on the couch, are they?

And even when you do get up, you don’t exactly look like the picture of health and fitness. A slow waddle is your typical pace, all your fat shifting from side to side with each intended step, your body clearly having to fight against it to keep moving forward. And all your indulgence has left you with a wide, bottom-heavy, pear-shaped physique more reminiscent of a well-fed housewife than a strong, buff gymbro. Nobody’s going to be mistaking you for one anyway, though, since your lazy ass can’t help but get red-faced and exhausted after just a couple minutes of walking around. You talk a big game about your glory days and everything you could do if you put some time into conditioning. But let’s face it: you’re about as out of shape as someone can be, and those wide hips and thunder thighs don’t scream athletic or manly.

I know it must be hard for you, though, since that’s still the guy you are in your head. The big, beer-drinking, meat-eating, football-watching manly man. Well, you missed the part where all that beer had a ton of calories, all that meat had a ton of fat, and all that football left your fattening ass planted on the couch all weekend, every weekend. I totally thought you were going to say something eventually about not needing me to bring you so much to drink and so many snacks, but nope, you never seemed to notice that you’d worked yourself up to eating an entire party’s worth of food all on your own between Saturday morning and Sunday night. And it’s not like I was going to stop you, was I?

I’d have thought your bros teasing you about how fat you were getting would be enough for you to at least start thinking about it, too. They may not be the cut jocks they were when you were younger, but aside from a couple with dadbods, they’re all in reasonably good shape. But not you. And you let them pat and rub your belly to put you in your place every time they come over to watch the game, take their jokes about how the blobby flab inflating your arms is all muscle, let them snicker at you for finishing off the food they leave behind to keep to their diets. You think you’re still just one of the boys, when really you’re more like their fat, chubby mascot.

So here you sit, munching on nachos swimming in beef queso, eyes glued to the third match of the day. Love handles bulging over the waistband of your athletic shorts, overtaxed by the titanic rump, bulging hips, and bloated thighs anchoring you to your seat. Tits flopping across your beer belly as you shout at the refs on tv. Chubby, shapeless arms wobbling with your gestures as you criticize guys in peak physical condition, lecturing about how they should be playing when thirty seconds of that level of activity would leave you panting on the ground. And me, just smiling and nodding and agreeing, knowing those 2,500 calories of goo are going to be blowing you up even more by tomorrow.

This can’t last forever, of course. Eventually, you’ll wind up so fat, heavy, and hard to move that you won’t be able to ignore how far you’ve fallen. You’ll have to confront the (at least) quarter-ton body you’ve grown, and consider how blubbery you were when it stopped being manly. Spoiler alert: you passed that point a looooong way back. You’ll face the fact that there’s nothing masculine about a guy whose manhood is buried in several inches of soft, yielding lard. That there’s nothing macho about a guy who has to move fat out of the way so he can reach for the remote or his next meal. That nobody envies a former athlete who’s so bloated and heavy he can barely make it to the mailbox and back. That you’ve eaten yourself out of everything you used to know about yourself.

But don’t worry; I’ll still pretend you’re my manly man, and you’ll eat that up too so you don’t have to pay attention to the last of your fitness slipping away. I’ll tell you that you look so big and strong, while you’re shoveling those pork rinds into your mouth. I’ll giggle that you seem so tough and stoic, while you’re planted on the couch, huge fat rolls flowing in all directions. I’ll whisper that you’re still so fit and athletic, after you come back huffing and puffing from hauling your big back from the next room. I’ll say all the things you want to hear. Just keep eating for me, baby. I want my tough guy to be big, and strong… and big.

[luvrxbunny]

sweet

pairing: bf!Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: Eddie is trying to see what it takes for you to ask him for help.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, praise kink, dry humping, cum in pants (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i blacked out after two sentences i have no clue where the rest came from. apparently i was too horny to give a proper ending?

Eddie can see your hyper-focus on your hands, his heart is melting at the way you’re trying so hard to follow what he showed you even though he knows you can’t focus when you’re high. 

It’s 10:37 pm, you and Eddie are high and he’s been trying to teach you the chords to his new song for 20 minutes now. He’s chuckling quietly as your fingers fumble over the strings again, drawing a frustrated whine from your mouth. 

“Aww, It’s okay, baby. You’re doing much better than you were earlier! You’re actually picking this up way faster than I thought you would.” Eddie is genuine when he says it but it’s your reaction that changes that.. that changes his intentions. He watches your face as he praises you, he watches your eyes glaze over, and your lips part gently as a soft smile spreads over your face. 

“Th- Thank you, Eddie. That’s so nice of you, thank you.” You sound so out of it. It shocks Eddie for a moment but makes perfect sense. He thinks of all the time you ask him for help with your studies, even though he knows you know the material. He thinks of all the time he cheers for you after getting the right answer, how he praises you and calls you his smart girl. He thinks of all the times you bake for him, asking for him to taste test them even though you’ve made the recipe a million times, he thinks about his exaggerated moans of delight, how he would get on his knees and beg you to make him a batch. 

He thinks about times exactly like this one, when he’s playing his guitar for you and you beg him to teach you. He thinks about how quickly you pick them up and how you beam at him when you finally get it. The only difference now is that you’re higher than he’s ever seen you. 

You wanted to celebrate for midterms so Eddie rolled you a blunt instead of his usual joints. Of course, his little lightweight got high out of her mind. You got so soft and cuddly that he could’ve never denied you when you asked him real nice to teach you the new chords. 

He comes out of his thoughts just in time for him to hear you nail the part you’ve been struggling with, perfectly. His blood rushes to his cock when he notices the way you look up at him, expectantly, almost… desperately. “Such a good job, baby.” It comes out more sultry than he meant it to but he’s never been able to hide his emotions with you. 

He watches your eyebrows, twitch in confusion but you don’t break his gaze. You’re waiting for more. He has to take a deep breath as his sensitive tip presses against the zipper of his jeans. His hands are twitching at his sides as he gets up, leaving his desk and making his way to where you sit on his bed. “That was amazing, honey. You’re better than I am, you’re perfect.”

He watches your thighs tense, trying to rub together as your hips lift to press you against his guitar as you get a faraway look in your eyes. You’re looking right at him as you grind yourself into his guitar, he doesn’t think you even realize you’re doing it. He lays down next to you, watching your bottom lip tuck under your teeth as you shake your head with a small smile. “No, not better than you, Eds. I could never beat the best, baby.” 

Eddie has to actively bite back a moan at the pet name, he feels like he’s gonna fucking pass out as all his blood rushes south. He knows you’re trying, he knows you’re trying to turn him on, asking him to make you feel good without actually saying the words. 

He’s told you time and time again how hot your pet names get him, he knows it’s silly but he cannot help it. Every time you speak to him with any ounce of sweetness he’s fattening up in his jeans. “But you’re perfect then?” He presses his hips forward, loving the pressure your plush thighs provide against his throbbing cock. His eyes almost roll back as he watches a silent moan fall from your mouth as your hips twitch, forward first against his guitar but back again to press into his boner. 

He smiles and raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you. You never initiate. He knows you’re shy, he knows it’s hard for you. He knows he’s all of your firsts but he needs— he craves to hear you beg him- to hear you ask him to touch you. He’s insecure, he can’t have this be so one-sided. He wants to see how far he has to push you before you say something. 

You’re nodding at him desperately. “Yes- Yes, I’m perfect.” He’s smiling so fondly at your agreement, his dick twitching painfully in his pants. He knows you feel it by the way your hips twitch, pathetically confused and you whine. It’s short and cut off as you turn to put his guitar away, placing it gently on the ground. You brush his cock and give him a beautiful view of your ass in the process. He’s silently begging you to say something, he doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. 

You turn back around and just stare at him, waiting for him to say something. He watches confusion bloom over your face, your head tilting like a puppy. He mimics your action with a teasing smile. “Do you have something to ask me, baby?” He watches realization and dread spread over your features. 

“Eddie…” Your thighs are rubbing together, nervously or for friction. He doesn’t falter, just looks at you expectantly as you pout. His hips are subconsciously thrusting up into the air, getting hot under your gaze. You press your hand to your forehead, astonishingly stressed at this seemingly simple task. Eddie considers letting up as he analyzes the distress on your face but you speak up. 

“Eddie can you-” You whine and avert your gaze. “Can you make me feel good? I—“ You huff out a breath of embarrassment. “I want you to make me cum… please.” His heart bursts at how nicely you ask. He’s taking a slow deep breath, trying to calm himself before answering you but you take his silence as a demand for more. “Eddie please!” You sound so upset, it's so cute. It makes him so hard. “Please, I- I need it. I need you, Eddie, please.” You’re still not looking at him as you whine. 

Eddie turns your head and smashes his lips into yours just to shut you up. If you had kept rambling about how bad you need him he would’ve cum in his pants. “Yeah. Yeah, I can make you feel good, baby. What do you wanna do, pretty girl? We can do whatever you want. You asked me so nicely, honey. You’re so sweet.” 

He’s desperate and all over you as he speaks. His hands are in your hair as he kisses all over your face and down your neck. You feel like you could suffocate in his need for you, it rushes over you and makes you need him more. “Your- Can we- Eddie.” 

He’s biting into your neck as you try to answer. You can feel him smirking in your neck as you struggle to answer him. “ ‘M sorry, baby. Go on, talk. You’re doing so well, honey.” He pulls himself closer to you so he can press his bulge into you again, his eyes fully rolling back at the pressure this time. “I want you to…. fingermeplease?” He moans at the way you rush out the last part of the sentence but still manage to use your manners. 

“You want me to finger you, baby? Fuck, yeah. I can do that. Mhm. You wanna sit between my legs? Let me open you up and play?” You’re nodding frantically and whining against his face as he lets filth spill from his lips. “Yeah? Will ‘ya squirm, honey? No, no I bet you’ll stay put like a good girl, huh?” 

He pummels you with his embarrassingly arousing words as he gets up to take his pants off (as you do the same), leaving his boxers and situating himself against the headboard. His thick thighs spread wide over his bed, leaving room for you to crawl between them. You don’t move though, you’re too mesmerized by the way his cock is pressing against the fabric, leaking into it and leaving a rapidly spreading dark spot. It can’t help but twitch as you admire him, he can’t take it; the hungry yet somehow innocent look in your eyes as you crawl towards him. 

Normally this is the part where you turn around, your legs spread and trembling over his as he shoves his fingers in your pretty pussy over and over until you’re quivering around his fingers, moaning and gripping his hair behind you desperately. Normally this is the part when he presses his boner to your lower back, thrusting against you in time with his fingers, imagining that it’s actually his cock inside you and willing himself not to cum when he pictures it for too long. 

Instead, you lift yourself to your knees. His face becomes level with your panties, his hips thrusting into the air as he groans at the pink bow resting on the band. You put your hands on his shoulder and slowly lower yourself onto his lap, letting out the sweetest moan as his soaked cock pushes into your dripping lips. His hands come up to your hips and force you down to him rougher than he meant to when he hears the sweetest whimper of “Oh, Eddie” slip from your throat. 

“Oh my fucking god, baby. You feel incredible, so fucking perfect. I can’t take it. Mm- Oh— What happened? I- I thought you wanted my fingers, sweetheart?” He’s throwing his head back and groaning when you collapse into him, leaning your weight on his bulge. You’re huffing out like you’re gonna cum, looking up at him with your pretty, glazed over, fucked out, high as fuck eyes. 

“I dunno, Eddie. I- It looked like he was- like he was crying for me.” Your hips stutter with a moan as your eyes roll back, Eddie’s hard cock rubbing against your clit perfectly. He feels like he’s gonna cum as you confess. It confounding to him; how you can say the most whorish things in the sweetest way. 

“You are in-fucking-credible, my love. I have no clue how you do this to me. I’m already so close, baby. You’re so amazing, so soft for me, love.” His eyes roll back and he’s losing it.

“You’re gonna make me cum— fuck. Holy shit—faster. Oh-h f-fuck me faster, baby. I love you so much. I- I’m gonna cum so hard. I- dammit. I wanna make you cum first. L-lemme make you cum first- shi-itt.”

You’re rabid against him, your hips moving at a pace that has him weak. You have him questioning who’s in control. He’s wound even tighter when he feels your hips falter, losing their rhythm as your mini whines evolve into desperate moans. “H-Help- Ed—” 

Your breathing is scattered as you whine and twitch against him. “Yeah, I’ve got you, baby.” He grabs your hips and grinds you against him, lifting his hips to meet your heavenly pussy and pressing magnificently into your clit. It has your hands digging into his shoulders, dropping down to his waist as you hug yourself to him. You’re moaning into his ear as he feels your thighs tensing on his sides.

“T-tell me-” You whine higher, more pathetically than he’s heard all night, his cock pulses, spurting out a dangerous amount of pre-cum into his boxers. “Tell me I’m good. T-Tell me I’m pretty—” You cut yourself off with a gasp as you buck your hips against him, a newfound energy coursing through you. “Oh- please- please tell me I’m pretty.”

Eddie’s right on the edge, moaning so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole trailer park heard him. “YES- Yes, oh my god. You’re so beautiful, my love. You’re a fucking goddess among peasants. You’re a flower in a field of fucking hay, you’re my dream. You’re my soulmate.” He dissolves into a whine as you cum against him. You’re moaning into his shoulder, trying to muffle yourself in his shirt but you’re too loud. 

“There you go, fuck yes. Good girl— Oh shit. I’m gonna-” His eyes are in the back of his skull before he can finish. His hips twitching insanely and spurting out an outrageous amount of cum into the fabric of your panties. He’s panting as he tries to come down but you’re deliriously humping him. Forcing more ropes of cum into his boxers, he just can’t seem to stop. 

“Oh. Oh my god- I- I can’t stop. You’re such a good girl. Mine. My good girl. Askin’ me to make you feel good, takin’ what you need. God-” A ragged moan bubbles out of him as his cock finally stops drenching your poor panties. 

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

[dmitriene]

cw: hybrids, dubcon (?), trapping, knotting and things.

dog hybrid simon riley that tries to mount you, it's not his fault, it's his owner who's responsible for bringing a sweet, docile kitten in the house that already has a big dog, he's never showed his affection to any possible animals around, even to his own specie, how he should, but upon meeting you, soft, supple thing with groomed tail and fluffy ears, he remembers he has a cock to stuff and breed.

you expected him to scent you and then forget about you, after all, he's a scary dog, and the man that took you promised that he's lazy and wouldn't even bat an eye at you, but as soon as your feet touched the floor, simon bumped you down on the parquet floor with his whole, heavy weight, pressing his rugged mug between your legs, huffing out a terrifying, pleases groan, his tail wagging left and right.

it's led to you almost clawing his eyes out, hissing and scurrying as far away from him as possible, threatening that you'll slice his face if he'd try it again, defensive little thing, a sight that pulls a lopsided grin to his pale lips, making your fur stand up on your ears and body, forgetting about trying to make up friends, knowing best than talking to this horny mutt.

yet simon plays it off, acts as apologetic as he can, tucking his excited tail between his burly legs, lowers his ears down, almost manages to do these honeyed, puppy eyes when he passes you across the house, getting under your fur, by helping you, giving you his sleeping place while the owner orders a new one for you, even stoles some treats for you from the kitchen.

anything, just to lower your awareness of him, making you warm up to an unruly mutt and feel comfortable with and beside him, pushing his inappropriate behavior to pure curiosity, seeing that he ain't trying to do something like that again, even through there's a sleazy murkiness to his eyes you can't piece together, until your heat doesn't hits you.

you come to him willingly, padding from your bedding to his, where he's all sprawled out, deep asleep with rumbling snores, and your mind to hazy to comprehend what's happening, why it's so hot, why you're all leaky between your furry, supple thighs, plopping beside him with loud, needy purrs, as you rub against his whole body, ass perched out with your pretty, curving spine.

simon knew you'd come, waited for your heat to struck, for you to seek him as your comforter, nuzzle your adorable face with whiny mewls in his thick palm, he's not a patient dog, and he won't torture you by acting like he's asleep, so he rises and tugs you close, pressing you into his bed, making you arch sweet and sharp enough to present your needy, fluttering hole, messy with dripping slick.

he eats your pussy properly, messes his whole maw with your slick and creamy cum, nose pressed in your silken, soaking fur, while he flattens his rough, thick tongue against your puffy folds and bumpy, swollen clit, slurping down on you when he nudges at your slit, licking further to your clenching hole, stuffing you with at least something for a short time, preparing you for his knot.

you welcome his chubby cock properly, your hole tight, yet so slick that simon is able to sheathe himself along your rippling, pulsing walls in couple of squelchy slides, flicking his finger against your throbby, little bud of nerves, looking at the way you purr and meow in pleasure as he stretches you out, filling you so full your soft, little tummy bulges out from his girth.

simon will knock you up, knot your tight pussy nice, making you claw at his wide shoulders while he slobbers over your fluffy, plump tits, rough tongue torturing your perky nipples, suckling wet kisses on your tender body, that would be even more so after he'd make sure you're pregnant with his chubby pups, as you keen his name and plead him to breed you.

ears pressed tight to your head, flicking at each pound of his engorged, fattening cock in your leaking hole, rutting his thickening tip against your cervix, your spongy spot rubbing against his veiny shaft rapidly, making you writhe, turning his wide, muscular back in a mess of bleeding crescent scratches, as your long tail wraps around his leg, brushing against his thumping one, accepting simon's popping knot with pitchy meows and gushy hole.

your pregnancy would be an owners problem by the morning, when he'd stumble across you tucked against simon's solid chest, purring in your peaceful slumber after being sufficiently filled with loads of potent, thick cum, morning air filled with guttural, protective growls and clogging scent of sex, and it's seems like it's wouldn't be easy to make simon stay away from you from now on.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Trying II**

HERE IT FINALLY IS! I hope you guys enjoy the conclusion to this AU! If you want more of this pair feel free to request updates on them! Read Part I and related blurb here!

Warnings: dirty talk, P in V (unprotected), breeding kink, free use kink, light gagging, edging and orgasm denial, overstimulation, oral sex (fem receiving), slight pain kink, alcohol consumption, mention of minor fertility issues

WC: 8.2K

Life had taken an extremely eventful turn for both, you and Harry in the last few months. For Harry, the opportunity to expand his business had risen very suddenly. The unit beside the brewery was a boxing gym and they had outgrown the space. Harry worked out there sometimes so he was friends with the owners and when they decided to relocate they asked him if he was interested in buying the space before they put it on the market. After talking about it with you and crunching some numbers he had bought it and now was in the middle of renovating. Obviously, this took a lot of his time and Harry had been really busy with the brewery as of late and it would stay that way for a few more months.

He had big plans for this expansion. He was going to expand his beer selection and also start working on brewing three of his own beers. The brewing portion was the first thing they were getting set up for the inspection and licensing process so that he could start fermenting his own brews on site. You were so proud of him and everything that he was doing but you missed having him around as much as you had previously. His expansion project pushed you to become an adjunct for an art class at the community college to bring some money in and also stay busy, so you truly hadn’t been smothering each other as much as you normally were.

On top of things shifting in your work lives, you had learned that you weren’t ovulating every cycle. You’d always assumed that if you had a period you had ovulated, but apparently that was not at all the case. It took you nearly six months with no success at pregnancy before you went to the doctor and had some tests done. Your hormones were a bit out of whack, thankfully no abnormalities had been found, so you had just been taking some medication to help block estrogen receptors and encourage the release of an egg each cycle. You had been on this treatment for three months now and you were very optimistic about it. More than ever before you felt and recognized the phases of your cycle more markedly, especially when you ovulated or were getting close. Sure, you were a naturally horny person to begin with but this was something else. It was like you had no resolve whatsoever. And despite the decrease in scheduled baby-making time because of your busy schedules, these changes had led to far more spontaneity in your sexual life with Harry. Like now…

“Baby…” Harry laughed breathily as you pulled him into the bathroom of the little bridal cottage of the vineyard you were currently at for a friend’s wedding. “Wh-what if Darci comes back for something and-”

“She’s not. She’s busy fake-crying at the toasts.” You assured him as you reached for his belt buckle. Harry chuckled into your kiss and his laugh morphed into a raspy groan as you slid your hand down the front of his slacks and groped over his semi-erection. You loved the way his cock fattened up so fast for you. As much as having a taste made your mouth water, you needed him inside of you and rearranging your guts more. “Please fuck me, daddy. I’m so fucking horny for you.” You said in a small voice as you peered up at him. Those, pretty eyes holding such an innocent look in them absolutely melted him to his core.  

He smirked at your request, “Need my big cock, baby?”

You nodded in response, “Yes, daddy. So bad.”

“Alright, but we have to be quick, okay? You can come the first chance you get, alright?” You nodded in understanding.

Before you knew it Harry had you bent over the counter, your hands holding your bunched up dress in tight fists with your thong stuffed in your mouth because you could not keep it down while Harry fucked into you impossibly deep from behind. Your legs were trembling so much that Harry was basically holding you up. It was hard for you to come standing up and when Harry realized that you were struggling to come he quickly picked you up and set you down on the empty counter space and plunged back into you.

“Fuck…I’m obsessed with your tight, little pussy, baby.” Harry muttered as he thrust in and out a few times. He then started swiveling his hips a bit more and it was making your head spin. The tip of his cock was rubbing into your g-spot with each gyration of his hips, it was making your eyes roll back as you rubbed at your clit steadily. “Shit, you squeeze so fucking tight! Fuck baby, squeeze m’cock…yeah, come for me. Come on daddy’s big dick.” He encouraged you through your muffled curses. Your body shivered as these tingling feelings radiated all over your body from the deepest part of your core, right where the tip of Harry’s cock was colliding and out towards your extremities. It was causing your orgasm to draw out far longer than you were accustomed to. 

“H-Harry!” You mumbled against the fabric in your mouth as the overstimulation made your legs start to visibly shake. Harry smirked down at you devilishly, his eyes dark with lust and excitement over wrecking you like this. You had the most worn out and tortured look in your eyes, it was going to push you over the edge again. “Fuuuuck!” You groaned in desperation. You couldn’t help but let out a whine, thankfully it was muffled. But he literally saw as your mind went blacn as the sopping, velvety walls of your pussy constricted his throbbing erection. Your eyes rolled back before your body started to tremble as your orgasm started to take you out.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Squirt on my cock…” he encouraged as you literally burst at the seams from the pleasure that was coursing through you. You were just seeing white hot ecstasy behind your closed eye lids. Your skin was covered in goosebumps as he continued fucking into you in long and deep strokes as he sought after his own orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come so deep inside of you. Gonna flood your little cunt with my cum.” He mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours. He moaned from deep in his throat as his rhythm started to falter until he was blowing his load inside of you. “Fuck, there it is…” he mumbled softly as his orgasm started to course through his body. Harry’s knees were nearly buckling as he came undone. You were clinging to his shoulders, nails biting deliciously into his skin through his silky dress shirt. Your head was rolled back as you just saw spots on the bathroom ceiling. Harry grunted lowly as he gave a few more thrusts before holding himself inside of you. He gently pulled his upper body back and tucked your hair behind your ear with one hand before plucking your thong out of your mouth with the other. “You alright?” He asked softly.

“Course.” You whispered with a smile. “Sorry for…kinda shoving you in here.” You chuckled breathily and he grinned.

“That’s alright. It’s not like I didn’t want to…” he hummed and you giggled before kissing him gently. Your kiss deepened and after a few minutes you were pulling apart when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He sighed and ensured you were steady before stooping down to grab it. “It’s Ted.” He mumbled.

“Mmm…” you smirked and he chuckled. Ted was one of Harry’s friends who had moved out of state and returned for this wedding. They weren’t close according to Harry but Ted apparently had an entirely different perception of their friendship. You could’ve sworn he had a crush on him, but Harry didn’t think so because he was sure he was straight. Regardless of what Ted was, he was really intent on reconnecting with Harry and he’d agreed to go to the bourbon and cigar bar which would open after the toasts. “They’re probably about to open the bourbon bar.” You reminded him.

“God…I shouldn’t drink any more or we can’t get back to the hotel.”

“I’ll drive. I’ve only had three glasses of wine and don’t want more. With a little dancing later I’ll be good to go.” You assured him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, honey.” You smiled and he leaned in to kiss you again, “Jus’not too much, ‘kay? I need you to fuck me again when we get back to the room.” You added and he smirked.

“Mmmm, if anything, being a little buzzed for it would make it better.” He said and you rolled your eyes, “You don’t believe me but you’ll see.”

“It’s just you do this thing where you try to find the sweet spot and when you arrive there you don’t hold off long enough before you start up again and next thing you know you’re passed out in my lap for an hour and my arms and chest are itching all over for the next week from being in the sun too long.” You explained. Harry might own a brewery but he was a complete lightweight when it came to alcohol.

“That was one time.” He chuckled.

“Actually, that was just one example. I’ve got five more.” You said with a smug smirk.

“Alright, I’ll be mindful, baby.” He appeased you.

“Thanks.” You hummed as you wiped your smeared lipgloss from around his mouth.

You quickly cleaned up and Harry got back into his trousers before you were rushing back to the reception tent. It had cooled down pleasantly and you were enjoying the short stroll back with Harry, hand in hand. As soon as you were within eye-shot of your assigned table Ted stood and waved you both down as if you’d been gone for ages or lost.

“He’s so fucking eager.” Harry mumbled as you approached the table.

“He missed you.” You said sweetly.

“I’m telling you, we weren’t that close so it’s a little weird.” Harry reiterated.

“It’ll be fine.” You said.

“Where’d you two wander off to?” Ted asked with a chuckle as soon as you two stepped up to the table.

“On a little stroll so we could make out.” Harry said as he squeezed over your hip and you scoffed before playfully rolling your eyes.

“Harry.” You mumbled and he just smirked down at you. 

“That’s understandable.” Ted responded as he smiled at you when you looked over at him. When you realized that he had really just said that you chuckled a bit uncomfortably before averting your eyes and Harry was stunned into silence for a few seconds before you squeezed over his hand on your hip and he glanced down to you.

“Well ummm…have fun at the bourbon thing.” You said and he offered you a soft smile.

“Sure you don’t want to come?” He asked you.

“That’s alright.” You assured him and tip-toed to hug him. “Just take this man with you.” You whispered to him and Harry chuckled as he kissed your cheek.

“C’mon on Styles, no need for the formal send off! S’not like she’s gonna get snatched away.” Ted said and you were glad you were facing away from him because the face you made would give away your slight annoyance at this comment from Ted.

“Take him. Please.” You implored and he giggled before you two pulled away. As they headed off with Fabian, the other guy at your table, Ted briefly glanced back at you. You saw it from your peripheral vision.

“I think Ted’s got a crush on you.” The woman beside you, Gaia, said.

“Oh god…I thought he had a crush on Harry. I’ve been teasing him about it all evening.” You said and the other ladies giggled.

“It’s because you kinda look like his ex. She was like, the one that got away.” Heidi, the woman across the table explained.

“Oh…” you hummed in understanding. 

“Yeah, so sorry about him. He’s not usually like that, he’s just had a bit much to drink.” She explained. 

You could understand that, so you didn’t want to make too big of a fuss but it had made you a bit uneasy in the moment. When Harry returned almost an hour later he was pink in the cheeks with a dopey smile on his face, and lidded eyes. You couldn’t help but shake your head as he approached. 

“Baby, lets dance.” He said as he extended his hand to you and you immediately stood and shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over your bag on your chair before walking off with him.

Harry pulled you out onto the dance floor and you immediately started to sway to Tony Bennett’s rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight”. You were both singing softly as you swayed together, gazes glued to each others. You often felt lucky to have him as your husband and it was happening right now. You giggled before reaching up to grab his face and kiss him. Your lips met in a deep and loving kiss before parting.

“Love you, honey.” You mumbled and he pecked your lips again.

“Love you too.” He whispered. “So…Ted asked me if we would be open to a threesome.”

“Jesus.” You scoffed and he chuckled.

“So…is that a no?” He asked and you rolled your eyes at his feigned disappointment.

“Shut up…” you muttered and he laughed lowly. 

“I actually almost hit him over it. Had to remind myself he’s piss drunk to stop myself.” He explained. “And well…don’t want to do anything to fuck up Darci and Tim’s big day.”

“Well, I’m proud of you for having that self control.” You smiled. “Besides, Ted’s not even my type.”

“I know. Too straight.” He said and you laughed aloud, disturbing the romantic environment of the dance floor. A few of the couples around you shot you irritated glares and you whispered an apology as Harry shook with laughter.

“Oh, you’re too funny, baby. That was very clever.” you assured him through your soft giggles.

“I know…” he said smugly. “It’s true though.” He said and you giggled.

“Would you ever want to do that? Have a threesome?” You asked quietly.

“My body tells me yes, but my gut says no.” he said, “I just don’t think I could handle it. I don’t want to see anyone else on you. And I would hate for you to see me with someone else like that.” He explained, “I just wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself.” He added.

“Yeah…same.”

“Why did you hesitate, then?” He called you out with a knowing grin and you giggled.

“I mean, I’d feel guilty fucking someone else in front of you. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you fuck someone else.” You explained.

“Oh…didn’t peg you as a cuck.” He chuckled and you scoffed. “Hey, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re inadequate. It just means that it turns you on to watch me fuck someone else.” He explained.

“Oh…well, wouldn’t that actually make me a voyeur?”

“No, because it’s not watching anyone that turns you on. It’s that watching me fuck turns you on.”

“Oh…then yeah, you’re right.” You conceded and he smirked. “But it doesn’t even necessarily have to be fucking someone else. I mean, it’s just you. You turn me on. A lot.” You giggled, “To the extent that if you ever feel like getting yourself off around the house feel free to do so.” You said with a grin. 

“Noted.” He smirked. 

“You better not fall asleep tonight.” You warned him lowly. You were still very turned on and you needed more from him.

“I won’t.” He assured you and you tutted, “Honey, I won’t.” He insisted and you smiled.

“Okay…” you hummed with some reservation.

Sure enough, Harry passed out on the drive back to your hotel from the venue. It took nearly five minutes to get him lucid enough to get up to the room and washed up before he undressed and plopped into bed. When you finally got into bed after a quick shower, you leaned back into the mountain of pillows and turned on the TV. The noise seemed to make Harry gain some consciousness and he requested that you play with his hair. That’s how you ended up with Harry’s head on a pillow in your lap with your fingers threading through his thick curls as you mindlessly watched some Lucy Show reruns until you passed out.

After you and Harry hadn’t been as sexually active as before it wasn’t odd for you to have spicy dreams when you’d been left sexually frustrated. So when you felt a lovely little flame of pleasure licking away in the depths of your core you just eased into the feeling. You were teetering between being awake and asleep which made it feel all the more real. But when you felt your legs being parted by Harry’s hands you started to stir. And then, Harry was smooching down your stomach, making you a bit impatient as he hovered over your mons and continue nuzzling up against it as his fingers rubbed against the crotch of your shorts. 

“Hurry up.” You mumbled groggily and he chuckled but proceeded to grip the band of your shorts and pulled them down. You helped him a bit by raising your hips and once they were out of the way he delved in eagerly. His tongue felt magnificent on you, it didn’t take long before your pussy was becoming all slick and fluttery with the things his mouth was doing to you. 

Every inch of you was on high alert and feeling each and every wave of pleasure that started to ripple from your core and towards the rest of your body. The closer you got to your climax that more intense it felt until your muscles were growing tense and you reached the peak and then he waited a second too long and your almost orgasm slowly started to fizzle out. You couldn’t help but whine out at the loss, but it was just another second before he was back to your clit and flicking it over and over with his tongue until you were right there again, you were expecting it this time so it didn’t upset you as much, but you were still annoyed. Edging? At this hour? Especially when you had gone to bed so horny for him, it was criminal, but he could use you whenever and however he well pleased, so you decided to not complain about it until you couldn’t handle it any longer.

“Daddy, please…” you whined after your fourth almost orgasm. You were lamenting the loss as the euphoria just faded from your reach…all that potential gone.

“I’m going, honey. I’ve got an aching boner so m’not gonna last too long. I wanted to let you have your fun before I get in there. Still owe you for last night.” He reasoned and you smiled down at him.

“You are forgiven, just make me come.” You huffed.

Harry smiled before pressing himself up and well yeah, his cock was standing straight up, despite it’s size and weight. It was also looking a slightly painful shade of deep pink. Your mouth watered as he stroked his foreskin over his tip and then back down. You nearly whimpered as his lovely, fat tip came back into view. You wanted to suck on it until you were slurping the cum right out of him. You had always been a bit of a cum slut, but now that your hormones were acting more or less how they should, well your craving for his cum was something else entirely. You wanted to taste it, or feel it pooling at your lower tummy, or squirting on your face or breasts. You liked how much he came and how you could feel each twitch of his cock shooting it inside of you when he fucked you from the back. You loved how warm it was and how he did the most to ensure it tasted as good as it could for you. You love the consistency of it and got turned on by seeing it slowly oozing from your stretched out little hole. The thought of him busting inside of you made you so feral so you did not care if it was fast or not, you just wanted to feel him inside of you.

“How do you want me?” He asked you.

“Do it from behind.” You requested and you both grinned at each other before you flipped over.

Harry stuffed a pillow beneath your hips before guiding his hot and stiff cock between your slimy and warm folds a few times to let your arousal coat his cock. You were desperate to feel his girth stretching your entrance. And when he finally pushed the tip in you braced yourself for him to plunge the rest of the way in but he stopped. You could feel his fingers digging hard into your hips. You were just about to tell him to stop teasing but then your felt his cock start to twitch hard as a breathy and slightly distressed “fuck” slipped past his mouth.

“D-did you just come?” You asked in shock through a giggle and Harry groaned.

“Yep.” He admitted with a huff, “M’sorry hon, it just felt so good inside of you. Was edging myself for a while before I woke you.” He explained.

“Oh…well now you have to keep going ‘cause I haven’t come.” You said as you glanced back at him.

“I know.” He assured you, “Just…just gimme a minute here, it’s so sensitive!” He yelped and groaned before smacking your ass playfully. You had squeezed your walls nice and hard around his sensitive cock and it completely caught him off guard. You laughed a bit as you relaxed your muscles completely and he sighed in relief. “So fucking mean.” He grumbled. “Fuck you.” He chuckled lowly and you giggled again.

“I had to. S’pay back for last night.” You reminded him.

“This is me paying you back for last night.” He reminded.

“Really? Blowing your load the second you put it in?” You teased and he chuckled.

“Touché.” He replied and you grinned. 

“S’alright, very amusing though. Just go slow.” You said softly and he hummed and pushed his length in a bit further into you before drawing out. You could feel him shivering a bit as he tried to keep himself composed but you loved that. “Give me more, daddy. Want to feel your big cock all the way inside. Love it when I’m stuffed with you.” You uttered seductively and he groaned as he fought against the sensitivity he was feeling in order to sink back inside your pussy. 

You felt nothing but relief when Harry started setting a steady pace, still a bit slow for how horny you were so you started to push back to meet his thrusts. Then you wedged your hand between your body and the pillow and with your own movements started humping your clit against the heel of your palm to get some friction to the throbbing little bundle. Harry felt your hips moving beneath him and held still to allow you to take over and go at your pace. Your  heart started to pound faster and your moans to climb in pitch with each prod of Harry’s fat, leaking tip to your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, you’re so good, daddy. Your cock is so good.” You slurred, starting to get drunk on the pleasure you felt simmering in your blood. He had pushed past the point of the sensitivity now and just needed to come again. He needed you to go faster, he was going to lose his damn mind. 

“Faster, honey. Go a little faster for me.” He encouraged you and you started to shift back a bit faster. 

Harry’s hands smoothed up the sides of your thighs and over your butt. He squeezed and groped a bit before gripping around your waist and then leaning forward to grab your jiggling breast in his right hand. You moaned as he started to tug and gently pinch your nipple. In moments your breath started to shallow as you started to approach your climax. That lovely pulsating feeling that was running through started to increase in intensity. Your body started to grow hotter and your limbs to tense. You moaned and let your upper body just fall into the pillows before you as you started to give in to the feelings. Harry watched the way your spine curved so beautifully as you kept your ass up for him. He watched your free hand clench the covers tightly while you played with your clit with your other hand. Harry groaned and reached into your hair, grabbing a fistful and gripping it tight to keep you in that position. He mustered up whatever strength he had left and pulled your ass tighter against his front as he plunged deep into your dripping cunt with the most brutal and unforgiving thrust. Your brain blanked for a moment and gasped as he you felt him collide with what to you felt like a totally new spot.

“Fuck me hard, daddy…Make me ache!” You supplicated and Harry moaned at the whiny tone of your voice and the light slur you spoke with. 

With your body bent the way it was it was already a little hard to breathe, but he had effectively knocked more air out of you with that first thrust. He released your hair and gripped your hips hard as he continued his merciless domination of you as you rubbed your clit in quick but precise little swipes. Side to side, side to side. So fast that the tingle in your core started to travel down your legs until your toes were curling for a second as your body tensed up. Then you felt it traveling up, making your tummy and chest tighten impossibly. When the feeling finally made it to your head you completely lost yourself.

“I’m coming!” You gasped before you buried your face into the bed to muffle your lewd and uncontainable moans. 

Your were feeling relief and ecstasy as your body rode this perfect wave of euphoria. It was so easy to overdo it and you had. Your legs had started to tremble but you couldn’t stop rubbing, it felt too good. Even more so with Harry giving you his cock as hard as he was. It hurt so good that you were drooling. You were going to come again. And surely enough, just moments later you shrieked in shock as Harry held you down on his cock while he started to come with a deep grunt. You were a goner in that moment, completely fucked out. The feeling of him being that deep all while you rubbed your clit past the point of comfort was making you dizzy as you came on his dick. He could feel your pussy throbbing hard around his girth, it was dragging out his orgasm. He needed more of you. He wiggled in a little deeper until he brushed again your cervix, you tensed up and then he pulled back before he did it again and again as you held so perfectly still but remained so tense at the overwhelming feeling. He then shifted a bit and laid over you and you gasped as this made him drive in as deep as was possible. 

“T-too deep!” You winced and he smirked and dropped more of his weight over you causing you to whine lowly and tighten your fist around the covers again.

“You said t’make it ache. So that’s what I’m doing, baby.” He said lowly, lips swiping your shoulder before he planted a gentle smooch to your warm skin. He then dropped the rest of his weight over you and your eyes squeezed shut as your brain went blank in response. “You’re gonna feel me for days, baby. Thoroughly fucked. Cute little cunt all wrecked.” He mumbled and you nodded. “Pussy bred.” He added. You could hear the smirk in his voice and smiled as well.

“Thank you, daddy.” You mumbled, drunk on him and his cock and the cocktail of pleasant neurotransmitters firing around in your brain. 

“You’re welcome, baby.” He hummed in satisfaction. 

And as you laid there in the postcoital bliss you were glad that you’d be staying an extra day before flying back down to LA. You’d rented yourself a vintage luxury car for the weekend and were just treating this as a romantic getaway since you’d both been so busy lately. When you looked at the clock you saw that it was barely 7:30am, you had your first wine tasting reservation in a couple hours and then an early dinner planned before settling in the for the night since you’d be flying out the following morning. You had agreed to get really into this wine tasting afternoon when you’d booked it so you two had dressed up in a vintage, old-money aesthetic. Plus, driving the sleek, light blue, topless, 1963 Mercedes 300 SL roadster through the seemingly endless sea of vegetation really fed the aesthetic you were going for. 

“God, I love California so fucking much. Never gonna leave.” Harry had said to you as he drove you two to your next destination. 

Your had so much fun at your activities with Harry without a care in the world for anything else that was going on. It was just you two again talking, making memories, and sharing things you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about yet. The way he ogled you and touched you and flirted with you was reminiscent of when he was first trying to get you to fall in love with him. All all throughout dinner he’d been asking about you and how you were doing now that you were working again and you had just finished telling him that you felt that it was going well and that you really liked all of your students.

“I’m glad your class is going well, baby. Just…don’t fuck a student.” He cautioned, “Bad idea.” He added lowly and your eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay…I’m gonna need to press for more information regarding this sudden, unsolicited advice?” You probed with a smile.

“I just…have experience in this area.”

“What?! Since when have you taught?” You asked him in surprise.

“Not me.” He scoffed, “Well, yes me, but I was the student.” He said. Your jaw dropped, you were genuinely gobsmacked for a few seconds. Learning that little Mr. Goodie-Two-Shoes here had fucked a teacher was not on your bingo card.

“I need you to tell me all of it.” You said with an excited grin when your brain finally proceeded the information. Harry chuckled but got to sharing the anecdote.

Apparently, during the summer before Harry’s second year at university he turned into the statuesque, god-like being he is now. All baby fat gone, bone structure and musculature carved immaculately by god herself. And in turn he got very confident very fast, he had said cocky, but you couldn’t picture Harry being unironically cocky. He then shared that he had been single for nearly a year after his first relationship and really just wanted to fuck so he got on an app and started seeking someone out. He was in a college town, it was a small community, so he lied and said he was not a student at the local university. And well, she lied about not being a professor at said university and they met up and hit it off quickly so they hooked up. 

They were a consistent hook up, maybe once a month, two or three if they were particularly needy, but they had agreed it was just sex for a few reasons. First and foremost their age difference, she didn’t intend to be dating a teenager. He was 19 and she was 35. But as time went on she started to like him more. Suddenly she didn’t mind that he was 19, in fact, she found it more refreshing because he listened to her, respected her, and apparently men in their 30’s and 40’s could hardly keep it up for twenty minutes. They were a good match sexually and after five months of getting to know each other and hooking up she told him she was in love with him. Obviously, Harry let her down gently but she took it very hard. A few weeks of radio silence later she tried to start things up again, despite her knowing Harry had no deeper feelings for her. He rejected her multiple times because he didn’t want to lead her on but it was getting hard to because he really was attracted to her. So he was glad that school was starting up again and he’d be more busy and he’d have more excuses to avoid her. 

That was all going to plan until the Thursday evening of the first week of school. Harry shared that he hadn’t been paying too much attention when he’d walked into the lecture hall because he was walking in right at starting time. He quickly found a seat in the aisle seat of the second row since everything else was quite full. He still had one AirPod in as he waited for the last minute of his podcast episode to end as he started to settle in and unpack his things. Simultaneously, she had started going down the class roster so he hadn’t clearly made out her voice either, he had the time anyway since his surname started with S. Harry recalled that he had just glanced up to the front of the class at the sound of his name and when their eyes met she just froze for a moment before glancing down at the sheet in her hand again. She apparently barely got through his name from the mere shock and mortification of it all. Apparently after that class ended she resigned, so he had no idea what had come of her.

“Jesus…you’re a whole ass career ruiner!” You exclaimed and he nodded.

“Yeah. See, bad idea.” He reiterated.

“Welp, there’s not any cute students in my class anyway. Well…maybe they are cute, but just cute, you know? They look so small and juvenile, s’not really my type anymore. I quite like how manly you are.” You said and he chuckled.

“You mean mature.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, that too I guess. But regardless, you do it for me just fine.” You assured him and he smirked.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He hummed before kissing the top of your hand. “Look, I know that we’ve been a little distant lately.” He started, “But I will make more time for us.”

“Well, we’ve both been busy and-” 

“It’s not that.” He said and your brows creased as you nodded, urging him to finish, “I know that we’re trying to start a family, but when we’ve had sex I feel like I’ve just been using you.” He expressed and you pouted, “Like yesterday, it’s been all fast and spontaneous, like whenever the opportunity arises. And I know you gave me the permission to do that but because I’ve been so busy it just feels…different.” He explained, “It’s hot, I mean it always is with us, but I want to be more intentional about it. Specially when we’re also doing it to make a family together.” He said and you smiled. “So I will try to be more present and to make more effort for us.” He promised.

“Thank you, baby. But believe me, I understand that what you’re doing with this expansion is also for our future.” You assured him and he smiled and nodded. “Like, I know it’s also for your self-fulfillment and with your own beers it’ll be something you’re doing for fun too, but that’s alright with me. Seeing you happy professionally is also important to me.” 

“Thank you for being so supportive and understanding, my love. As always.” He smiled and you squeezed his hand in yours.

In the end, this is what you loved about your relationship with Harry and also why your marriage worked. You were both so considerate of each other, so thoughtful. You had no idea when you would finally get pregnant, but you were just so excited for it because Harry would be the most incredible dad. He showed you every single day how much love lived inside of him, you were certain it would be boundless with your baby whenever they came.

…. A COUPLE MONTHS LATER ….

Harry had kept his word and did prioritize making more time for the two of you. You’d decided to do a sort of book-club thing together. You both read the same book and would have a date every Thursday night to talk about it and how your week had been going. You usually helped out at the brewery on the weekends, but had started to do more of that in the last few weeks since Harry was starting to work the flavor profiles for his beers and was quite consumed with that a lot of the time. Like this particular weekend, Harry was out visiting a few brewing labs around so-cal with Jeremy and you had stayed behind to run the brewery. 

On Monday though, he would have the opportunity to make a small sample batch of possible types of beers and flavors he wanted at one of the labs. You were bummed about missing this part of Harry’s process but you had an appointment to check your hormone treatment that you could not miss. Any imbalance in hormones could tip you back into not ovulating as you were supposed to and you didn’t want to risk that which he fully understood, so you both agreed that you were okay with missing these things for each other. 

Your appointment was early so that you could get back home and hop on zoom for a few hours to hold some virtual office hours and grade a bit. You were just waiting for Dr. Zelaya to come in and when she finally did with a big smile you immediately perked up.

“Y/N, guess whaaaat?” She sang as she came in and closed the door behind her.

“It worked?” You asked with an excited smile and she nodded.

“Oh, it worked! You’re pregnant!” She shared with an excited smile and your jaw dropped.

“I am?” You asked in disbelief.

“You are, lovely. ” She confirmed and your eyes immediately welled up. 

“Oh my god!” You finally exclaimed and cried tears of joy. Dr. Zelaya chuckled as she grabbed the tissue box and handed it to you “That’s such excellent news!” You sniffled through your chuckles of excitement.

“Yes. Congratulations! Now, if you don’t have more time today we can set another appointment for an ultrasound and see how far along things are. But if you can push things off I had a cancellation for 11:30 and can squeeze you in?” She offered.

“Oh yeah, I’ll come back! Besides, I skipped breakfast because I woke up late.” You confessed.

“Happens to the best of us.” She assured you. “So I’ll let the nurse know you’ll be back in a little while. And may I recommend you try the Marmalade Cafe, it’s on Ventura, right after Kester. They have a delicious chorizo Benedict, there’s a vegan chorizo option too if you’re of my persuasion.”

“Ooh, I’m not vegan but you guys do seem to have some the best foods.” You said and she giggled.

“Yeah, things have gotten really impressive on that front.” She nodded as she finished typing a few things on the computer. “Alright, I’ll see you back in about 2 hours for your first ultrasound. Will your husband join?”

“He’s actually out of town on a business trip. But I want to have pictures for him for when he gets back tonight.” You explain.

“Oh, he’ll love that. What a nice surprise for him to come home to.”

“Exactly.” You added with a smile. You chatted a bit more before you headed off. 

It was genuinely so hard for you not to call Harry right away and tell him the good news, you were bursting at the seams. You also wondered how everything at the flavor trials was going, you were genuinely disappointed that you were missing such an important milestone in this process for him. He really wanted you to be a part of this because despite being married to him, you weren’t necessarily a beer girly. So he had said that he’d want your input on the three beers he wanted to have so that he could get a novice’s critiques on the beers. He also really valued your input as his life partner and you often helped him ask the difficult questions and things of that sort. Not that he wasn’t able to stick up for himself, but he never wanted to come off as insecure or maybe even difficult to work with, but you were so diplomatic about everything that he loved when you’d bring up the difficult or challenging things before he did. Regardless, you wanted to make up for not wanting to reschedule this appointment and this would definitely be the best thing to share with him to make it up. 

Before you knew it you were back at the doctor’s office and watching the monitor with tearful eyes again as the doctor pointed out the embryo to you.

“I’d say you’re about six, almost seven weeks along.” She shared with you and you nodded, “Have your periods been more or less regular?”

“Yeah, they vary a bit with the medication but honestly I have just been so busy that I lost track of my cycle this time around.” You explained.

“Okay, just making sure.” She said, “Everything is looking as it should. I know you’ve been taking such good care of yourself, so keep that up, s’good for the future baby.” She said and you nodded with a smile. 

Once you had your photos printed you headed off to get a dessert to share with Harry and a little picture frame for your sonogram picture. You were sure he’d want to keep his copy with him so you’d just break the news to him with your copy. You were just getting in when you saw Harry, freshly showered and making himself a sandwich in the kitchen as you came in from the garage. 

“Baby, hi!” He greeted you cheerfully.

“Hi!” You greeted with a bright and surprised smile, “What are you doing here?” You asked happily as you put everything down and hurried over to hug and kiss him quickly.

“We got to the tasting and I just couldn’t do it without you there. It just didn’t feel right to start the process without you. I rescheduled for two weeks from now and we can make a little weekend out of it? We went to this incredible sushi restaurant that I know you will die for.” He said and you giggled.

“Speaking of beer and sushi…” you said through a small chuckle, “I have some good news for you.” You teased and he smiled wide.

“Your treatment is going better than expected?” He asked and your brows raised.

“More than…” you said with a smile, “I’m pregnant!” You shouted with a huge smile and Harry’s features softened.

“Honey…” he said tenderly as he came up to you, “Yeah?” He asked for confirmation as he grabbed your face gently and you nodded. Your eyes started to well up when you saw the tears forming in his own eyes.

“Yeah. You’re gonna be a dad, H.” You confirmed and he dipped down to kiss you deeply before pulling back to hug you and hold you close.

“Oh, you just made my whole fucking year. My whole fucking life…” he hummed “I’m so happy I don’t even know what to say.” He chuckled as he swayed your bodies a bit and you laughed.

“I mean, same! I was so surprised when the doctor told me. It was very unexpected.” You explained through a happy giggle as you rubbed over his back, “I bought a slice of chocolate cake and framed a picture of the sonogram for you to see. Had a whole thing planned since I thought you were getting in later.” You disclosed and he let you go to allow you to grab the image of the sonogram. When you handed it over to him his tears definitely started to fall. 

  “I don’t even know what the fuck I’m looking at but I just know they’re already perfect.” He said through his sniffles and you laughed and then brought your hand up to the image.

“It’s right…shit, was it this thing or this one?” You questioned as you pointed between two different areas on the sonogram.

“Baby…” he huffed.

“I’m kidding! It’s this little smudge. I’m almost seven weeks along.” You shared as he set it down and then picked you up and spun you around happily as it finally hit him. You shrieked as your sandals were flung off by him spinning you.

“We did it!” He chanted a few times as you spun before he set you down on the counter. “Oh baby, you’re going to be phenomenal. Everyone at the brewery is going to be so happy when they see your bump coming in!” He said as he squeezed your thighs in excitement, “And well, I mean, I don’t care what we’re having, I just want to buy stuff and look at baby names immediately!” 

“We can do all that.” You giggled as he started to get a bit hyper over this but he was just so fucking pleased with the news. “We’re gonna be good at this.” You said softly and he nodded.

“Undoubtedly so.” He hummed as you ran your thumb over his cheek bone. “You’re really pregnant.” He chuckled again in slight disbelief. “I’m over the moon. I feel like I have super powers, like I could fly.” He chuckled.

“Please do not test that theory.” You joked and he sniggered.

“And here I thought I already loved you as much as I could.” He hummed and you grinned.

“Wait until we meet the baby.” You said and he sighed and smiled.

“It’s going to be so cool.” He hummed and you nodded and then your smile faded a bit.

“Thank you for being patient.”

“Oh, no…” he said, “Like any of that was in your control…”

“Well, if I had just listened to you from the beginning and gone to get checked we would’ve caught this sooner.” You acknowledged and he shook his head.

“None of that…it happened when it was supposed to. If it had happened sooner you’d be in the middle of that while we’re in the middle of this expansion. It would’ve been a lot of stress to deal with. I mean, maybe I would’ve even passed up on the opportunity if you were pregnant when they offered the unit to me.” He said and you sighed, “Besides, it can be scary to go and get these things checked out. There’s always a risk of receiving bad news and that’s anxiety-inducing. I understand, baby. But we finally did it.” He said and you nodded before kissing him deeply.

Harry wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. Your legs wrapped around his body and you slightly pulled back from his lips.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, my love?” He asked.

“Can we eat the cake now?” You asked with a little grin and he chucked.

“Yeah, we can eat the cake.”

“I just have a simple request.”

“Shoot. Anything for m’girl.” He said with a smile.

“Put it in the microwave for like 20 seconds. Like when it’s all warm and melty.” You said and Harry smirked.

“You know what I like all warm and melty?” He said suggestively and you giggled and kissed him slowly for a moment. 

“Promise me we’ll be like this with each other forever?” You asked and he smiled, “Kids can be great but they can also change things with us.” You pointed out.

“You’re right.” He agreed, “But I want you to know that to me, you’re the top priority. Always.” He shared and your gaze softened, “Everything I do, I do with you in mind.” He shared, “I exist because you do.” He said and your heart melted in your chest as he said this, “And as long as you’re alive I will choose you every day. I’ll always be in love with you.” He assured you and as your glossy eyes met his you saw his sincerity and believed him. You grabbed his jaw and pulled him in for a searing kiss before pulling back, “Believe me, we were meant to do this together.” He assured you and in that moment you knew everything was going to be alright.

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[slut4thebroken]

Urges

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x reader

Summary | The Lazarus Pit had some unexpected side effects.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, grinding, in public, humiliation, light dubcon, multiple orgasms, no female orgasms, so much come, like genuinely so much, angst?, fluff, Jay is secretly a sweetheart and a simp, obviously.

Words | 2.8k

Notes | Based on this. (Lol imagine that’s you know what all over him in the pic🫣🤭)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

The pit didn’t just give him trauma— it affected his body too, giving him enhanced strength, speed, durability, and healing. But there was another, lesser known side effect. 

Honestly he hasn’t even thought about it for the past few years- always too focused on recovering from fucking dying, then on revenge and helping Gotham the way Batman couldn’t. But once it hit him… it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He doesn’t know where Batman or Nightwing were and why they weren’t with you, but there you were, the Batgirl suit even more flattering on your now mature body, making his cock strain in his pants. And you— you stupid little girl— decided to go after him alone. 

He tried to fight it, really he did, but when he had you pinned under him in a matter of seconds, he couldn’t help the way he pushed his crotch against you, trying to get a little bit of relief. 

“W- Get off me, you fucking creep!” You yelled once you noticed. He didn’t give you an answer because he knew exactly what would shut you up. So he took off the helmet and tossed it to the ground as your eyes widened. “Jason?” You said through a breath, making him growl at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. He parted your legs, then settled between them and leaned over you as he rutted against your clothed heat. He only lasted a few seconds before the tightness of his pants became painful, so he leaned up to open them and pull his cock out. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You gasped, but there was no malice in your tone. Just pure shock and arousal. He leaned back down, shoving his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply, not able to control the way his hips started rutting against you  just from your scent. You still wear the same fucking perfume that always used to make his cock fatten up in his pants whenever he got too close to you. 

He was panting against your neck now, his cock, trapped between your bodies, growing so incredibly sensitive that it almost fucking hurt. And his balls— god, he doesn’t ever remember a time in his life where they were this fucking heavy and full and aching. 

It wasn’t long before he was nearing his orgasm, especially when he focused on your breath on his neck and the way the swell of your tits felt against his chest. He choked out a moan, not able to control the way he started whimpering- so fucking desperate for relief. His brows furrowed, mouth open in a silent moan as his cock started twitching, then shot out rope after rope of come. He’s had enough orgasms to know that the way this one felt was definitely not normal. Even after a few years without it, it shouldn’t be this fucking intense and long. 

“God- what the fuck?” He whined, hips still desperately rutting against you as he rode out the endless orgasm. He could feel the mess through his own layers of clothing and he knew that your suit would be fucking wrecked when he was done. But it didn’t stop. He came for what felt like hours, listening to the pulse in your neck, smelling your perfume, feeling the delicate skin on his lips. 

“Fuck,” He whimpered, still rutting against you, but the friction was starting to lessen because of his cock being completely soaked with come. His balls just barely lightened, still feeling incredibly full and sore. When he finally, finally felt his orgasm fading, his hips slowed to a stop as he panted, trying to catch his breath. 

“Jesus fucking christ-“ You moaned through a breath. His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, never even having a chance to start softening before his whole body burned with need again. He leaned up to examine the mess, finding the entire crotch area of both of your suits completely soaked, as well as most of your mid sections too. He looked down further, finding come still dripping down the flushed tip all the way to his balls. His cock was so hard, it was almost visibly throbbing and his balls looked almost as full as they felt. 

“Jason?” You asked quietly, making his eyes snap up to yours with a growl. Your cheeks were pink, lips red and swollen as if you were biting them and he wanted nothing more than to shove his cock between them and make you drink his come, but even with the primal urges overtaking his brain, he couldn’t do that. Not to you. So with another growl he flipped you over, his come making a slapping sound as you landed. This time he kneeled over your legs instead of between them and he laid over you again to hold you still as started rutting against your covered ass. 

If he thought the smell of your perfume was intoxicating, it was nothing compared to your hair. He took a deep breath and let out a quiet groan, remembering how he used to be able to smell it when you hugged him. But back then it didn’t make him feel like this— it didn’t make his cock throb and it didn’t make him start whining. 

“Jason,” You suddenly said, trying to push yourself up, but his entire body weight was holding you down. He didn’t want to listen to your protests— to your rejection, so he placed a hand over your mouth, making you release a startled moan. 

“Shh, I’m sorry. It’s okay, I just- I need this, baby— need you.” You whined against his palm, the sound sending a jolt to his cock. 

It took every fiber of his being to not tear your suit and fuck your cunt- fill you up with load after load of his come until you milked him dry. But through those thoughts, he could hear a quiet voice reasoning that he wouldn’t be able to come back from that and he would lose you forever. And even though his cock was begging to be buried in a tight, warm cunt— in your tight, warm cunt— he knew it was true. So this would have to do for now. Just thinking about fucking you had him barreling toward his second orgasm. 

“Oh fuck- oh my god.” He whined, resting his forehead on your shoulder. His free hand was clenched so hard to keep from touching your tits, or anywhere else, that his fingers were starting to hurt.  

Despite him pinning you down completely, you managed to push your hips up a little, pressing your ass even harder against his cock. The action had him gasping out as he fell over the edge again. He couldn’t hold in the whimpers and moans as his cock twitched between your ass and his pelvis, spurting ropes of come into the tight space. His balls were practically throbbing— pulsing with each shot of come that left his cock. 

He continued rutting against you desperately, trying to get the most out of this agonizingly long orgasm. While he could feel some of his come coating his cock, it seemed like most of it landed on the small of your back that was arched as you held your hips up. The ache in his balls was already starting to alleviate, but they weren’t empty yet, so he sat up on his knees to continue, groaning at the sight of the entire lower section of your midriff covered in his come.

“Jason?” You asked quietly, but he ignored you as he lifted you onto your knees, pushing you down by your upper back when you tried to rise on your hands. 

“I’m sorry- Just one more, I promise, baby, one more.” He whined, positioning you how he wanted, with your legs squeezed together. The sight of his come rolling up your back into your cape had his cock twitching in need, so he slipped between your thighs and immediately started fucking you. There was enough come covering his length that the friction didn’t hurt, but honestly he could’ve used a little more friction, especially because the material of your suit had him sliding in and out easily. 

His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you whimper so that they didn’t drift to your ass. Bucking into you as he desperately chased relief again, his eyes trailed all over your body, mostly focusing on your ass through the skin tight suit, but moving up your come covered back too. His balls slapping against your thighs with each thrust was almost starting to hurt, but he couldn’t stop— not even if he wanted to. 

“Oh god- I’m so close. Almost there, baby. Just one more I think— Just one more and I’ll feel better.” He choked out, bucking into you wildly. The sound of his wet pants hitting your wet suit was deafening on the otherwise quiet rooftop. When you squeezed your thighs together even harder, he let out a broken moan, cock throbbing, anxiously awaiting the pleasure. 

“Oh fuck-“ He groaned, cock twitching between your legs as his come shot out, painting your stomach. Quickly pulling back, he fucked his fist, watching as his come covered your ass and dripped down your thighs. “Shit,” He whimpered, when it just didn’t stop. It was less than his previous orgasms, but still enough that you were practically kneeling in a pool of his come. The last few spurts landed on his fist, dripping down his hand to the puddle on the ground as he panted, trying to catch his breath. 

Releasing his cock, he watched the way it still twitched pathetically, but despite that, he knew he was done. What he didn’t know however, was how he was going to clean all of this shit up. His cock was slick with his arousal, dripping down to his balls, adding to the mess on his pants. His hand and clothes were in a similar state. 

“Jay?” You asked quietly, making his eyes snap up to you. 

“Shit-“ He helped you up so you were sitting in front of him. The come that was on your stomach had rolled up to your chest, coating your tits, making him hiss as his cock twitched at the sight. You were practically covered head to toe in it. “I- Are you…” You flung yourself at his body, wrapping your arms tight around his torso in a hug. He tried not to focus on the way that his come would now be on his chest too. When you pulled back— way too soon, he thought with a frown— you slapped his arm, making him grab the slightly aching spot. 

“Ow- What the hell?” 

“You have a lot of fucking nerve to be asking me that when you’re the one who needs to start explaining.” You growled, crossing your arms over your chest with a scowl. 

“…You’re mad?” He asked sheepishly, watching your expression start to shift into one of amusement before you hardened it again. 

“You’re dead. What the fuck, Jason?” 

“I’m sorry. Can we just- go somewhere other than here and get cleaned up, then I’ll explain?” He asked, gesturing to the pool of come you were both in. A light blush painted your cheeks when you glanced at the mess. 

“Fine.” 

He took you to his safe house and apologized profusely, promising to clean your suit for you. Only once you were both dressed in his clothes and sat on the couch did you suddenly realize that Jason is in front of you. Jason who you haven’t seen in years, Jason who’s older now, but still just as pretty as the day you met him. Jason who you couldn’t save.

“How long have you been back?” You asked, trying to hide your emotions as you crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I had to… work through some things.” You tried to wait patiently for him to explain, but it didn’t seem like he was going to do that anytime soon, so you continued.

“Tell me what happened. I don’t understand how you’re here right now.” He sighed, glancing away from you. 

“Do you know what the Lazarus Pit is?”

“The thing Ra’s Al Ghul uses, right?”

“Yeah… He- put me in it. That’s how I’m back.” He muttered. 

“Shit- are you okay?” You’ve heard the stories of what it can do to a person and your chest ached knowing that he went through something like that. 

“I’m alive.” He shrugged with a dry chuckle. 

“I’m sorry.” You moved to wrap your arms around him in a hug, but stopped when he leaned back. When he saw your hurt expression, he rushed to explain himself. 

“It’s not you! I just- I can already smell you from here and it’s taking everything in me to not do something I’ll regret. Again.” Your brows furrowed in confusion but when you glanced at his crotch, your eyes widened in understanding. 

“I don’t understand how you can still be hard after that. Actually- I don’t even understand how that was possible in the first place.” 

“I didn’t know it was possible either… When I came back, I was different— stronger, faster. I guess that changed too.” He explained and you nodded in understanding even though it still barely made sense to you. “Plus the last time I came was like a week before I died so it’s been a while.” 

“Jesus- Jason, tmi.” 

“That’s tmi?” He scoffed in disbelief. “I just fucking came on you three times and that’s too much?” 

“Oh my god- stop.” You muttered, burying your burning face in your hands. “Why did you wait so long though? I mean, I’m assuming you had at least a little bit of time after you came back.” 

“The thought never even crossed my mind. Not until— until I… saw you.” He mumbled the last part so you could barely hear it, but you did. “Look, I’m really fucking sorry. I know it’s not an excuse to say I couldn’t control myself, but even then, I still shouldn’t have done it.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Are you kidding? I assaulted you!” He exclaimed, making you roll your eyes. 

“Okay well maybe my mess wasn’t nearly as bad as yours, but if you’d bothered to check, you would’ve found evidence to the contrary.” His eyes widened slightly, lips parted in shock. 

“You-“ His eyes moved down to your pants as if he’d be able to see what you were talking about.  “I don’t… What?” 

“You’re so clueless sometimes, you know that?” You chuckled, giving him a small smile. 

“I’m not.. clueless. I was just distracted.” He muttered, a blush painting his cheeks. 

“Uh huh. I have a question.” You said, changing the subject. 

“Shoot.”

“Why me? I’m sure you saw plenty of other girls throughout the years so why did I make you break?” His lips curled up into a small smile and you couldn’t help but feel like there was an inside joke you weren’t a part of. 

“You’re so clueless sometimes.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frowned. 

“Jesus- I don’t know what job you have, but I really fucking hope you’re not a detective.” He chuckled and you hit his arm again. 

“Shut up. Just tell me.” His expression suddenly dropped into a more serious one and you felt anxiety start to twist in your stomach. 

“Because I’ve had a crush on you since we were like 14.” He muttered. You stared at him in shock and when he turned to finally look at you, you could see the moment where he realized he wanted to backtrack. “Which is really fucking awkward if you have a boyfriend or don’t feel the same way because I did not think this through nearly enough,” 

“Me too.” You said, putting an end to his rambling. 

“What?” He choked out. 

“I’ve had a crush on you too. But since we met, not since we were 14.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah… Why did you think I was so fucking awkward around you?” You chuckled, making him smile. 

“I don’t know, I just thought you were awkward.” He shrugged. “Do you… still have a crush on me?” He asked coyly, as if he was giving himself the opportunity to pass it off as a joke. 

“I wouldn’t have let you come on me three times if I didn’t.” You said teasingly, your smile widening from his reaction. You liked turning the tables, making him blush for once. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

“I wouldn’t have come on you three times if I didn’t.” 

[sun-kissy]

stars & spaghetti | r.b.

a/n: here i go again, not taking a break 😭 i swear i just needed to write this! thank you @lovemenotts for encouraging me to post it 🫶 i love you lily

tw: eating disorder recovery

Regulus knows where to find you, but he also knows better than to act like he was looking for you with two bowls of food in hand.

“Hey.”

You almost jump at the sound of his voice. You turn around from where you’re sitting on the porch, giving him a small smile. “Hi.”

His heart drops a little when he sees your face, with your sunken eyes and tired expression.

“I didn’t realize you were home already. Did you come through the back?”

He hums an affirmative, sitting down next to you on the steps leading out the house.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as you slouch onto the railing on your left, blankly staring out at the road. “How’s your day been?”

Regulus casually twirls his fork into the spaghetti in his bowl before bringing it to his mouth. Maybe he believes he’s being slick, you think, but it’s obvious that he’s got twice his usual serving.

“Today’s been fine, yeah. Just busy. How was work?”

He nods in response, “Good, actually. Mark finally sent me the files I needed to get that huge contract signed, and —” He presses his fork into the pasta again, but this time brings it up to your mouth (hoping you’re too distracted to mind).

His heart drops and how instantly you swerve backwards, almost crashing into the step behind you.

“Reg,” it comes out as a betrayed hiss. You take a shaky exhale before sitting back upright. “I don’t want any; I’ve eaten dinner already.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, I —“

“Then why’s the kitchen completely clean?”

Regulus never takes a harsh tone with you, and he wasn’t going to start now. There’s nothing but quiet, genuine concern in the way he asks. Guilt claws at the back of your throat anyway.

It was one of your worse days; thoughts of excessive calories and not having worked out being all you could think about. You’d stared at yourself in the mirror for what seemed like hours, cursing every flaw of your body and wondering why me.

Without your boyfriend home, it had just felt like there was no reason to fatten yourself.

“Hey,” Regulus mutters, laying his palm facing upwards on your lap. You take it. “You’re getting in your head again.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, lovely girl.” He reaches out to gently brush a stray hair away from your face. “But do you think you could try to eat something? Please?”

Your heart stops, and it’s like your mind is reeling back into its hiding spot already. No lies on the tip of your tongue.

“It doesn’t have to be a lot, dove, he continues quietly, rubbing your fingers. “Just a few bites. You need fuel, you know.”

Regulus is looking into your eyes with that silent look now, the one which makes you feel like he’d do just about anything to save you from yourself. You don’t think you could ever say no to him.

And it wasn’t like you’d eaten anything today. You were allowed this, for your boyfriend, right?

“Fine.”

He smiles softy and tugs you closer, stamping a kiss to the side of your forehead and picking up the bowl of pasta from beside him. “So, remember that bouquet I bought you last week?”

He starts to make casual conversation as he feeds you, and you do your best to listen. It goes all the way from those flowers were expensive! to maybe we should get a cat — or a new apartment — but NOT a dog.

The food gets lodged in your throat every now and then, but you force yourself to swallow. The ‘full’ feeling starts to creep up on you like your shadow.

Regulus can sense it. “Okay, but why the hell do you like dogs?”

You decide to indulge him and go off on a tangent about the fluffy beasts, which pulls your mind away from its dark corner. The conversation makes the chore of eating easier.

You’re sure he knows what he’s doing, but you’re going to let him anyway.

Before you know it, you’re laughing so hard you don’t even realize the bowl is empty. He stands up to put it away before you get the chance to think too hard about it.

Regulus sits back down next to you. He starts to tell you about the stars, then, and you listen intently. It’s late, but you wouldn’t know what time it is. Time didn’t exist in your little bubble.

At one point you’ve curled into him the furthest you can. Your eyelids are being pulled down by the weight of fatigue, his comforting presence lulling you closer towards sleep.

He thinks you don’t hear it when he murmurs a soft I’m proud of you. You do.

[clearlyonhere]

I’ve been putting on a lot of weight recently and it’s getting obvious so I think I should go back to the gym. I have noticed I’m blowing up like a balloon with all of the fat piling its way onto my body. I don’t even recognize my body in the mirror anymore. I used to have high sharp cheek bones and a defined jawline, now I have rounded chubby cheeks and what will soon be able to be called a double chin. My neck is thicker. All the definition once visible in my toned arms is disappearing. If I don’t do something soon I know the muscle under the fat will make them look that much fatter. My once small but nice boobs have grown to be hugely round tits the size of cantaloupes…. My toned legs are softening and expanding at a rapid pace. My thighs have begun rubbing together. My ass used to be firm, but now it’s jiggling with every step I take. And my belly is the worst. I used to have defined abs. People would come up all the time and ask how I got my abs to be so defined. My abs have disappear under a thick layer of marshmallow like fat. I’ve had people say I’m so round I look pregnant. I have a roll of fat that hangs over the waist band of all my pants because they are getting FAR too small for my ever growing figure. I’ve gone from such a fit sexy girl into a round chubby piggy. The only problem is, I just tried on some work out clothes to go to the gym and they are all way too small! I can’t even pull them up over my gargantuan belly! They are squeezing my ass and thighs so tight I feel like I’m a bust can of biscuits. The other problem is I don’t know if I can stop eating. My belly is constantly demanding to be stuffed full of fattening foods. My old gym friends haven’t seen me in months. If I go they may comment on just how BIG I’ve gotten. I’m sire if I showed up in this I’d be stared at the whole time. Whispers would start. All the people who used to ask my advice and come talk to me would probably not even speak to me. And if they did they would probably ask when I’d gotten so fat. I can’t imagine even trying to run now. My belly jiggles when I walk. I can even feel my love handles jiggle! I don’t even know how to lose this weight! Maybe I should just accept my fat(e) and accept that I’m meant to be a chubby girl.

If you saw me in the gym now compared to last summer what would you say to me?

The before photo is me from last summer

[feeder86]

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86