#entirely unbeta'd and self indulgent

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[sleepfight]

[fic] caught in your tangles

Fandom: Greedfall Rating: G

Chapter Warnings: None

Pairing/Characters: Kurt/Percy De Sardet, some cats

Six days out of the week, they camp on the road. But on Sundays, when the rare occasion arises where there is nothing to do, they lie in bed together.

Kurt is never awake when Percy makes his way home and slips into bed on Saturday nights. Their schedules are unpredictable and chaotic and the unrest on Tir Fradi often separates them for days at a time. So it is an indulgence when they are allowed to rest together in the mornings, quiet and still with the curtains drawn shut, trying to avoid the tiny sliver of golden sunlight that they can never quite block out. 

Sometimes, they share a pillow. Mostly, they do not, though, because Percy does not sleep, Percy nests, and if Kurt does not have his own pillow, he won’t have one at all. The covers are rarely shared either—they can never agree on how many are necessary. They are both big men and the heat can tip into the unbearable, particularly under the feather comforters that Percy prefers over Kurt’s more practical collection of cotton sheets.

Not that either of them minds. Better to be too-warm together than too-cold alone.

Kurt, most of the time, is awake first, but not by much. It’s in that half-awake state that he can appreciate how silent the house is and how comfortable he is in those precious seconds before he opens his eyes to what will inevitably be Percy drooling against his shoulder or their cats sensing that someone is conscious. Many of Kurt’s mornings have started with claws walking up and down the length of his chest, demanding breakfast. He prides himself on the fact that his cat is better about this than Percy’s. Percy’s one-eyed tortoiseshell is the most excitable hairball Kurt has ever had to live with other than its owner.

He’s more attached to them both than he’s capable of admitting yet, though.

If there is enough light, Kurt will sometimes turn Percy over onto his side, halting his low snores, and just look at him until he wakes. Somehow, Percy’s face never changes, even when at rest; he always has the same dopey grin, the same perplexed crease between his eyebrows. He’ll often talk in his sleep, sometimes in ways that make Kurt feel small and helpless, but the midnight debates he has with his dreams can be amusing when they aren’t keeping Kurt awake, which is more common. 

Kurt has been a light sleeper his whole life, which should make them utterly incompatible bed partners. Percy huffs, he squirms, he clings, he kicks, he does every annoying thing that a person shouldn’t be capable of doing while unconscious.

And yet.

He’s kind of cute when he has his face buried in Kurt’s armpit.

On the last Sunday of January, as snow blankets the streets of New Serene, an unusual event occurs: Percy wakes up first.

Kurt is tugged from the depths of his dreams by a tingling sensation in his fingertips. It takes his brain a moment to process it—he isn’t sure if it’s real or not until the feeling spreads to his knuckles, accompanied by a very, very gentle pressure. He hesitates, lingering on the bridge between sleep and awareness, too comfortable to want to be up but curious enough to crack his eyes open. 

He blinks, groggy, still not all there, and manages to register that the room is dark and the cats are silent, wedged in the crack of space between his and Percy’s legs. He’s bitter for half a second; they are still curled all over each other and dead to the world. Unfair.

Slowly, he turns his face out of the pillow and exhales through his nose. His fingers twitch—the tingling has turned into small circles in his palm.  It would seem that the source of the odd feeling is coming from Percy.

“Greenblood,” he murmurs. “What’re y’doin’?”

From somewhere in the darkness under the covers, Percy makes a bleary, non-committal sound. “I’m awake.”

“Can tell.” There is a shifting in the sheets and warmth envelopes his hand as it slides between both of Percy’s palms. “Asked what you’re doing.”

“Admiring you.” The tip of his thumb presses down on the top of Kurt’s wrist and slips down in a long line, straight to the tip of his index finger so he can hook it around his own. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Kurt does his best to suppress the crop of goosebumps that shoots up his arms in the wake of Percy’s careful touches. He isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to this kind of attention, no matter how much he enjoys it. 

“You did.” Kurt breathes in slowly. “S’alright.”

“I didn’t say I was sorry.”

“Implied it.”

“Did not.” 

Percy scrapes his fingernails in a light pattern down Kurt’s forearm, mindless little swirls over hardened scars and ticklish flesh alike that make Kurt shiver and smile. He slides his other arm out so he can slip it under Percy’s neck, prompting him to come closer. 

“What time is it?” He asks.

Percy wriggles into the embrace and wraps around Kurt, scooting over until he has Kurt beneath him. “Early.” He yawns. 

He laces their fingers together and rests his head on Kurt’s shoulder, breath tickling the hair on Kurt’s chest when he starts to drop a line of kisses along the cut of Kurt’s collarbone.

“How early?”

“Too early.” He mumbles. Kurt can feel Percy’s eyelashes pat against his neck as he starts to doze off again. “To be awake anyway.”

Kurt rolls them both over, ignoring Percy’s half-hearted protest, and drops an arm over his soft belly so he can spoon up behind him, pressing his lips into Percy’s tangled, brown hair. 

“Should go back to sleep,” he says. “Nowhere to be today.”

Percy hums in agreement and from between them, the cats begin to stir. Percy’s cat--Dolly-- pushes herself into a big stretch and pads across the bed, bumping her forehead against Percy’s ear from where she settles expectantly on top of Kurt’s neck. 

Percy groans. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he grumbles. He brings a heavy palm up to stroke her head. “Did we disturb you?”

Dolly chirps and forcibly plops herself into the minute space between their heads, balling up so that she can nose at Percy’s cheek and flap the dense tuft of her tail all over Kurt’s face.

Kurt mentally congratulates his cat on being the more mature animal.

Still, when she begins to purr, Kurt can’t help himself and reaches out to join Percy in petting her. “Gonna have to feed them soon.”

Percy groans. He hides his face in her fur. “I did it yesterday, it’s your turn.”

“Cat’s lying on me, love,”  Kurt sighs. “Can’t get up now.”

“That’s playing dirty.” Percy yawns in perfect unison with his pet. “Besides, your cat is on my legs. I can’t get up either.” He burrows deeper into the covers and sighs, slow and even. “So I suppose we’re trapped.”

Kurt squints as the first rays of morning begin to filter through the crack in the curtains and splays his fingers out on Percy’s back, stroking gently. He lets his head sink back into the pillow. It’s still early. There is no rush.

“Guess so.”

end

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

can I have all those fat merman Steve thoughts? 👉👈🥺

I love him and your writing and this AU is so good it needs to be shared!!

❤YOU SURE FUCKING CAN ❤

Warnings for VERY self indulgent content below the read more cut including: unbeta'd, extreme weight gain, belly kink, immobility, merman × light-house-keeper stucky AU, some kind of plot (spooky and also incredibly rare here), etc.

Backstory for everyone but us two lunatics 🤣:

This AU idea sparked from a conversation between Dumpling and I about belly kink awakening content from our childhood's. I opened the conversation with the book The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle and then later re-disovered another picture book I read that Made Me Feel Things lmao

That second book was about these mermaids, little girls, who decided to not listen to their father and go talk to humans. Their Dad warned them that, hey, humans are bad and will trick you. Don't. But they didn't listen! And the two mergirls make friends with two human girls on the shore. These human girls then introduce the mergirls to human food (among other things) and they hang out everyday for a few days, swimming home in time to not get in trouble every time except-! Eventually, the human girls bring tons and tons of different food to give the mergirls rather than splitting half of their picnic lunch with them as they had before. And the mergirls eat all, all of the food. Eating and stuffing their faces until they're so heavy that they can't swim home. And they have to sleep on the shore for the night, returning in the morning to their ocean kingdom. The mergirls are then "punished" for endangering themselves with the humans as well as for their gluttony.

I never knew why I liked it so much as a child, reading and rereading, until I suddenly remembered it and connected my love of it to, well... the content on this entire blog 🤣🤣

But yes yes yes, personal backstory aside, now time for the AU backstory:

Bucky is the lighthouse keeper.

He lives alone on his little island with supplies and a few animals, mostly a bunch of birds he feeds, the flock depends on the season. Also though, he has a cat, Alpine. She hunts mice occasionally (when they become a problem) but otherwise she sticks to her fancy wet food. The little princess.

There's a boat or two dragged up from the dock at the rocky island shore to the land. He has to have some way to get back to the mainland.

And while the island is little compared to, like, fully established island nations, it is more than big enough for a lighthouse, garden, and plenty of open space.

Bucky loves his garden and grows all that he can- there's not a lot to do but cook and clean. He mostly cooks a lot before a trip back to the mainland when he drops all his treats off with friends and family.

Picture this Bucky:

(Personally I'm thinking modern-ish era but... eh, either way, 1940s or 21st century, choose your own adventure)

And STEVE

Merman Steve!

This Steve is pre-serum looking, very thin, petite, his ribs sticking out everytime he breathes in deep, underwater or on land. He's the "runt" of the pod of merpeople he's apart of and on top of that, this winter has been hard... its been Extra difficult to find food.

But, Steve,, Steve's eyes are hypnotizingly blue. As are his scales, his tail so so blue, the webs between his fingers blue tinted, scales at his elbows, the edges of his fan shaped ears, etc. His skin is so pale that it's nearly see-through. He probably, definitely has freckles... when you look close enough at least. Otherwise he's too pale for anyone to notice them. And Steve's hair is so, so blond. Underwater it looks platinum blond with the sunlight and water reflecting but above water it's wheat-golden, the longer hair at the top of his head juuust long enough to fall into his eyes.

Enough backstory! Onto the story-story!

Steve is no match for the late winter storm that centers over that patch of ocean one night. He gets bashed up against the rocks at the shore of Bucky's island. Getting bruises and thankfully only minor cuts. Mostly he's just confused as to where the fuck he is, currents pulling him this way and that. When Steve finds a smooth wooden surface to cling to instead of rocks... he stays put.

That surface is Bucky's modest dock.

And that same winter storm night Bucky feels his house tremble and shake around him. The lighthouse attached to his home is fine but... he feels as if he'll blow away in the wind! Alpine spends the night weaving nervously in and out of his legs as he walks around his home, heating up soup for dinner, taking a shower while listening to the rain batter the sides of his home and the howling of the wind beyond.

In the morning, the storm clears.

Bucky goes about the island ensuring everything is in one piece and investigating what might've been blown ashore in the night.

He finds Steve.

And...

Maybe it's the cabin fever talking; a result of being alone for so long on the island but... coming along just in time to watch this shaking, trembling creature (beautiful creature) crawl up onto his dock, battered and bruised, thin enough that Bucky might be able to snap him with his bare hands, Bucky feels the urgent need to help him.

Bucky has never seen a mermaid before.

Steve has never seen a human before.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asks.

Steve... Steve pauses and for a moment Bucky is pretty sure that he doesn't speak English but then- "I... I dont know."

"Can I help?"

Steve nods.

Bucky helps by telling Steve to stay there while he runs home to fill his bathtub with sea water since when he asks if salt or fresh water matters, Steve cocks his head and says he doesn't know what fresh water is. Isn't all water fresh? Bucky runs back and forth from the shore to his house, dumping buckets of sea water into his tub. Then-

Bucky gets a wheelbarrow, originally for his gardening needs, and easily lifts Steve up into it, rolling him home.

"What's your name?" Bucky asks, rolling him over the grassy meadow back to the lighthouse.

"Steve."

"Steve, hi, my name is Bucky."

"Bucky? Is that a common human name?"

"Not particularly, it's a... a modification of my middle name."

"Your middle name? You have a beginning and ending name too?"

"Yeah, kind of, I have a first and last name too. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky comes from the middle name, Buchanan. Buchanan is waaaay more common then Bucky."

"I'm just Steve."

"Well, okay, I like the name Steve."

Then-

At home, with Steve now resting in his sea water filled bathtub, Bucky cleans up the worst of his cuts and bruises with antiseptic after using some soap to scrub off the mud and seaweed- "are you sure this is helping?!" Steve asks, whining,"it hurts!"

"I promise it helps."

Steve might complain about the ache of cleaning his wounds but he does the exact opposite when Bucky feeds him afterwards...

Tail splashing water as he flicks it every now and again, first Bucky has him try some leftover but reheated cooked fish with lemon and garlic butter. Steve wolfs it down so fast and so eagerly (three whole big fillets!) that seconds have to be in order afterwards! Bucky cooks too much for himself anyway and just looking at how thin Steve is, Bucky wouldn't mind cooking more just for him. He can have more than three fillets. Seconds are a few homemade scones slathered in jam. Thirds are plenty of strips of smoked ocean salmon. Fourths are more scones on account of Steve's request.

But by the time he's done eating everything Bucky gives him, barely taking enough time to mutter a thank you before tearing into whatever it is, the meal (or meals rather) are visible on Steve.

Visible in how his stomach pushes out from his ribs harshly. Unnaturally almost- so large and round that Bucky thinks about asking if merpeople have stretchy stomachs before he reels himself back in. That's a rude think to ask. In human culture but also probably merperson culture.

Either way, Bucky keeps looking, hiding in plain sight of just being a curious human. His belly... it's so stretched. Pink and taut.

Steve stretches out, sloshing some water over the side onto the floor, and moans. "God, if I could eat like this all the time, I would! And I'd never swim again..." he chuckles, "I'd sink like this I think," he slaps a hand over his stomach, forcing a burp out of himself.

Bucky laughs to cover his own moan but can't help continuing to stare at how Steve's webbed hands rub his swollen stomach. And without another actual thought, beyond ohohohohoh Bucky adds, "i-if you can't swim tonight, that's okay. You can stay here. If. Uh. If you want to. I'm not- not trapping you here. You are free to leave but if you want to-"

"Oh, yes, thank you-" Steve murmurs, still rubbing his own impressively large stomach, eyelids drooping as he turns his head to look at Bucky.

Bucky stares back and puts his foot in his mouth again, asking, "do you want help?"

Fuck. Oops.

"With what?"

"That-" he chokes out after a moment of stuttering, eyes flicking to his tortured, bloated stomach.

"Uh, I guess, how'd you be helpi-?"

"Like this," Bucky interjects to lay his hands on his skin, fever hot and thin, stretched over the rock-hard mass of food inside him.

Steve moans. He struggles to lift his hips up into the touch too.

Bucky has never felt more- more electric. Since the moment he first spoke to Steve he knew he was special and he liked him but touching him... fuck. Bucky is pretty sure he's in love with him. He's beautiful and smart and-

Full.

(Bucky later jokes to Steve that if he had known better and been more guarded he might've thrown Steve out with accusations of him being a siren, not a normal merman. Or maybe he wouldn't've... he might've been too hypnotized.)

But... it goes on like that, Steve lives in Bucky's bathtub, eating as much as Bucky will feed him. Probably even more than Bucky would've give him, if not for his asking for more. But sometimes Steve gets into a fit of feeling like he's too reliant on Bucky for everything or whatever and will ask to be put back into the wheelbarrow and taken back to the ocean. They say goodbye but he never really leaves. He stretches his fins in the ocean for a while. Staying low enough that Bucky can't see him from the shore or lighthouse but never returning to the ocean depths. Eventually, sheepishly, Steve turns up back on Bucky's dock.

They don't make comments on how or why he's back. Bucky is simply happy to have him back.

Steve gains weight.

It usually doesn't hit Bucky, how Steve is changing, until he takes him from the shore back to his home with him after his adventure alone. He stops looking for the signs of his changing body when he's always in the tub, day after day...

He really does change though. First, he gains enough weight that Bucky can no longer spot and count each of his ribs but instead looks healthy. Then he looks a little husky... some of the weight goes to his muscles, sure, but calories seem to favor becoming fat when in his body. Then he's chubby. His stomach rounds out first, a little pot belly that grows larger until its a gut, but subtlety, all the while, his hips and tail catch up to his gut by filling out wider and wider with blubber. His pecs fill out too. Little chubby tits that match his swollen tummy and his thick tail. He gains weight until he looks so soft that Bucky kind of wants to either grab him and sink his fingers into his blubber or he wants to bite him. To feel how soft he is.

He gains and gains, stuffing himself with human food and hardly swimming. Just sitting and plumping up in Bucky's tub. Waited on hand and foot (tail?), stuffed with more food than he could ever hope to catch.

And Steve. Well, Steve just eats and responds to Bucky's prompts or questions or general conversation between bites. Bucky leans against the bathroom wall or the side of the tub and talks between his trips to the kitchen. He never gets tired of feeding Steve or talking to him.

Somewhere along the way, they also become Bucky and Steve. Getting together. Bucky doesn't really know when or how that happens. He's very glad it does though...

Once, when Steve genuinely wants to stretch his fins and isn't pretending to go back into the wild, Bucky struggles to lift him up. He's truly fat now. He forgets how fat he's gotten. It seems like that stick-thin, angular merman is so far away. Besides, Steve looks much more like himself fat. Its hard to describe but fat Steve looks more like Steve than a half-starved, haunted merman.

Steve gets into the wheelbarrow with Bucky's assistance, he swims for a hour or so (only an hour?? he felt like it was so much longer... has swimming always been that exhausting?!), then returns to the tub and, oh-

He doesn't fit very well in the bathtub anymore.

Fat belly. Fat tail. Fat tits. Fat arms. Fat. Fat. Fat. Steve is fat. Too fat for Bucky's bathtub, evident by the tight feeling of his big body pressed against the cold porcelain. Too fat to swim away from sharks or predators but also too fat too catch fish in the ocean. He's no longer slim, no longer slipping quickly through the water. He lumbers now, especially on land. Clumsy and fat.

😳😳

Both Steve and Bucky pause, staring at each other. Steve wedged in the tub. Bucky bent over him, looking down at the mountain of blubber he makes. His tummy especially.

Fuck.

It's been an entire year since they've known each other now, winter melting into spring, hinting at summer all over again, and Bucky promises that come spring and summer, he'll begin digging out an in-ground pool for Steve to live in. Something he can't outgrow.

"I'll have my own zoo then, huh? A live-in zoo with my pet whale. All to myself to spoil and play with, yeah?"

Steve squirms where he's wedged. His blush works down from his forehead to his soft chest. His nipples are hard. His belly has had time to digest from his swim and he aches to have Bucky stuff him full again. He wants to be rock-hard under his layer of blubber. Bloated and stuffed so full that Bucky can press down with his fingers and feel it.

He wants to be fed so big that Bucky won't be able to pick him up. Outgrown the tub and wheelbarrow...

By the time the pool is dug and water is rushing into it, ground water and salt water and rain, near the end of summer Steve really can't fit himself in the tub. His fat sides squish out over the edge. His tail is about as wide as the tub and sticking his ass down into the tub, then moving, creates suction. So much so that he almost can't shift in the tub without help. His gut and incredibly intensely stretch mark-ed sides are always dry, sticking out of the top lip of the tub. He is huge. A whale. Not a little mermaid, slim and svelte as he was when he first showed up. Now he's covered in bubbler and stretch marks and fat and rolls and he has trouble swimming. He has trouble moving, with or without Bucky's help. When swimming, Steve can't really dive, his blubber makes him too buoyant. But he can float on his back, like an otter. Belly to the sky.

His belly is his biggest part of him. To the point that he looks SWOLLEN. Pumped full. Strained around the constant snacks and meals and desserts.

Everyday when Bucky finishes cooking breakfast, he greets his boyfriend by humming, "good morning, whale," and every time it makes Steve shudder inside, hot for it.

He might already be a whale but he's seen bigger whales. He wants to be bigger.

The move from tub to pool is extremely slow and strenuous. They have to stop twice to get Steve snacks before they're done. Bucky jokes that it's unfair that he's so hungry because it means that he's heavier for the rest of the journey to the pool 😤

Not that Bucky doesn't want him bigger or heavier, of course.

Steve loves his pool (other than the part where he has to swim more often but don't worry, he just starts eating more and he gets some muscles under all of that fat)!! He gets to feel the sunshine and breeze and he keeps getting all the same amount of food too. It's lovely. He's even happier. A little ball of lard. Endlessly round with roll after roll, stacked up around his dome of a gut. He's more fat than anything else, spending his days in the shallow end of the pool with Bucky feeding him until he literally can't eat another bite, moaning and surrendering.

Bucky climbs on top of him like that, Steve so fat that he's held down to the bottom of the pool, even in a few inches of water, heavy, and straddles his tail. Rutting his dick against his blubber-thick tail and burying his face in Steve's obscenely round belly (his arms have to be spread wide to reach the ground around his round gut). Stuffed, PACKED full of his love in food form.

Bucky gasps and moans and works himself into a frenzy on top of him. And all the while Steve simply enjoys, drunk on food and arousal, wet with burning hot desire but... again, he's food-drunk, body slugging through all the fat and grease and flavor, so he can wait while Bucky gets himself off.

Bucky could fuck Steve, his slit gets wet and would hold the shape of him sort of like a vagina but usually he can't wait. Bucky needs it now.

Bucky mouths at his soft fat over his hard, packed tight belly, and humps him. Splashing water all over. About to come and muttering, crazed, about how big his whale is. His prized whale... whining about how blubbery and huge his trophy whale is. Bigger than everyone else and yet he's still going to get bigger. A growing, greedy whale. Bucky keeps going, winding himself and Steve up by promising that he's going to go to the town on the mainland next time and buy everything he can, every type of food, and stuff all of it into him so he can make more blubber. Get bigger. His whale. He loves his big, fat, huge whale. Fat enough and full enough that he can't even swim. He can't move. All he can do is get bigger, fatter, larger. His whale.

Bucky comes, splattering messily over Steve's gut. The part of his whale he's made the largest. Steve moans because as crazed as Bucky is for this, Steve is more. He's the one who's put on so much weight that he's unrecognizable. He is the one still opening his mouth.

So, yeah, extremely fat merperson Steve 🥵

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

lately i’ve been thinking about nat having kept a really strict diet/fitness regimen for so long and then finally indulging a little bit. and then a bit more. okay, a lot more. she really starts putting on weight and she’s always hungry all of a sudden and she goes from having been able to run a mile with ease to being out of breath just from walking from the couch to the fridge. she’s a little embarrassed about it (especially so when she gets really burpy, always flushed in the face and murmuring the softest “‘scuse me” when she lets a belch out) but she’s even more embarassed by how much it turns her on to have such a big belly and to overeat.

she knows there’s no going back to how things were when she realizes her belly is so big it dwarfs her tits 🫣

(hope this is okay, i just wanted ur thoughts on the concept + if u had anything to add!)

Oooo yes, I love this ex-jock adjacent journey for Natasha!

And you know what I thought of immediately upon reading your ask? I thought about this chubby kink fic I’ve re-read probably a thousand times “Doubling the Recipe” by caloriebomb. It doesn’t have Natasha getting chubby (it’s a stucky fic with feedee Bucky) but there’s this part where Natasha mentions:

“‘Lots of guys get a little belly when they're discharged,” Natasha said. “I probably would, too, if it weren't for the patriarchal double-standard that won't let girls get fat without giving them shit. Though I guess you've appointed yourself Bucky's shit-giving angel.’” (taken from chapter 3 specifically)

So, of course, moving out from that connection… this idea obviously then makes me think about ex-military Natasha. She’s been honorably discharged, she’s done her time, and now she’s just a regular civilian and so she doesn’t have to keep up that strict diet and even more strict fitness regimen. Why would she? She doesn’t need to be able to outrun enemies, she doesn’t need to be societally appealing in order to get details out of pig-headed men that are in charge of shit simply because they’re men, not because they’re the best at their job, she doesn’t need to be able to throw people off of her despite her usually smaller size, she doesn’t need to be able to slip through tight spaces, she doesn’t need to do any of that anymore. And she’s tired of doing all that. So… doesn’t it make sense for her to go the other way and eat all the things she wasn’t allowed to before? She deserves to relax.

Romanogers below the cut, you know the drill, unbeta'd. This is your Belly Kink warning. At first, its solo Natasha stuffing, weight gain, and masturbation. Then Steve comes into the picture 😏

And it becomes a habit. Do you know how hard it is to go back to a world of perfectly nutritious food and the proper amount of exercise once you’ve tasted a whole new world of flavor and texture and, just, enjoyment that you’ve never been allowed before?

Exorbitantly hard.

Natasha has spent her entire professional career being resilient and using up all of her self-restraint, meaning she doesn’t have any left to, do what exactly-? Fit in with what society deems beautiful in the current era? Body types a part of the fashion industry, coming in hot and going out soon after. Pfft. Fuck that.

Why would Natasha fucking care at this point in her life?

However, that being said, the first healthy chunk of weight comes on as a result of letting loose just because she can. It’s an accident. But once she comes to terms with her increased weight and has to decide what she values more: what other people think and say about her OR what feels good to herself and what makes her happy, well, then the weight that comes after that is all intentional. She is helpless to give in when indulging is probably the best thing she’s ever felt in her entire life. Holy shit, it feels good to be full. It feels so good to stretch her abdominal muscles to their breaking point not from doing countless amounts of crunches until they spasm and ache but stretched to breaking as they try to keep all the food she stuffed down her hungry throat attached to her. Cramping. Heavy. Rounded. Full. Like, outrageously, illogically full. It feels so good.

And it’s an accident - just like how the first bit of weight came on before she decided to dive in head first to this whole idea - when after one of her stuffing sessions she slips into masturbating. It’s uncorrelated she tells herself after it’s over, jolted out of the haze of pleasure and gluttony panting, eyes shut, with her hand still resting over her pulsing, wet slit. Her whole body is on fire with embarrassment even though she’s the only one around. She just-

God.

Why had she done that? But also… when was the last time she let her own hands fall between her thighs to pleasure herself? When was the last time she felt pleasure in that way for pleasure’s sake rather than it being a part of a honey-pot mission? She can’t recall the last time. So, obviously, it’s been a long time coming. And based on how much of her newly retired life she spends full up to the brim with food… it only makes sense that she’d end up cracking when she was still panting, out of breath under her bloated, stuffed belly. When isn’t she in such a state, stuffed silly?

Right?

It has nothing to do with the tight ball of throbbing heat that overtakes her when she reaches that glorious point of being so packed full that she stops being able to lift her hands to her mouth. Her body quitting on her because it knows if it doesn’t she will just keep eating and eating and eating. Everyone feels that when they eat too much. The whole nauseous after eating too much thing is… a pop culture myth? (Right?) It feels glorious to glut for everyone.

Right?

Okay…

Fine.

Maybe they are tied together. Her masturbation habits and her eating habits that is.

Maybe…

Maybe, there’s something here, she tells herself when it happens again and again and again, lying on her bed, surrounded by food wrappers from both her pantry - chips and junk food of the like - and from the restaurant a block or two away from her apartment. She could’ve walked to pick up the food, but she didn’t. She paid extra for delivery (really extra so she wouldn’t have to pant as she slowly staggered her way there, working around her bloated gut). Also- there’s a two-liter somewhere around here too; the entirety of it bloating out her tight, tight stomach, bubbly and sloshy and delicious. A two-liter on top of a whole day's calories twice over. Jesus. All of it stuffed into her just in time for her not to drop into a food coma but perfectly in time for her to bend her arm around the swollen, pale mountain of her belly to get at her throbbing, wet center. It’s harder to do so these days, her capacity increased massively. But anyway, she was so ready to touch herself that it must’ve taken her a minute, tops, to get off. And, yes, okay, fiiine, she was getting off to the feeling of how bursting full she was.

She was and is getting off on it.

And she might get off again, shifting under her belly to feel the tight, heavy dome of it wobble and slosh, pinning her down. I’m so greedy. She whimpers at her own thoughts, and shivers, her fingers already dipping back into her wetness, spreading it around. I’m so full. So heavy and unable to stop stuffing myself. God. I can’t stop. I’m gonna get huge. I’m- I’m gonna get so, so fat. Natasha gasps, both at her thoughts and at the feeling of angling her hand, still working around the beach ball attached to her front, to slip her fingers inside of her throbbing pussy. Hell fucking yeah, she’s gonna get off on the feeling of being packed full of delicious food again. A complete glutton. In every sense of the word.

Later, after that realization that not everyone has this electric connection between food and sex, Natasha digs deeper into it…

Well, really, first she lets herself go even more. Without shame and with fully conscious knowledge of what she’s doing- Nat goes on a spree of all-day stuffings over multiple days, getting off to it as many times as she can. Constantly with one hand exploring the fat, round curve of her tummy where it sticks out further than her boobs while the other shovels food into her mouth. When she’s done eating, that hand moves down… slipping into her panties or just between her bare legs when she gets too full- okay, really, too fat to fit into even her most forgiving pair of underwear. And, fuck, does that feel naughty and fucking incredible in the best ways. She’s too fat. She’s outgrown her fucking panties. She forgot that could happen. It's never happened to her before.

With this exploration over three… four… five days she’s constantly munching, constantly packed full, and orgasming multiple upon multiple times during the day. Hell, on the night between the fourth and fifth day, she wakes up with her cunt wet and her tummy gurgling - gurgling as it tries to digest the colossal amounts of food she’s packed into it, but she pretends it’s gurgling out of hunger - and she waddles to the freezer to down the rest of the pint of ice cream that she couldn’t finish after her third dinner. Then. Then, still with the last swallow of ice cream in her mouth, lounging back in her bed like a spoiled queen, she dips her fingers into the puddle of wetness she’s made. So fucking hot over the new height of greed she’s reached; fingering herself until she comes with a yell. The darkness of the middle of the goddamn night only adds to the hotness, feverishly thinking, I’m so gluttonous. I can’t even get through the night without waking up to stuff my face. I can’t even get through the night without coming. I’m addicted. I’m addicted to this. To my fatness and greed.

Upon running out of literally anything to eat in her apartment, Natasha comes out of her fantastical delve into all things gluttonous. She comes out of the exploration and realizes-

None of her damn clothes fit other than the pair of sweats Maria Hill (her friend since they met in boot camp in the military) left the last time she slept over. Maria is a full five inches taller than her with a larger frame, fit to her taller height, and the waistband of the sweat pants is still viciously tight on Nat’s hugely bloated and fat (fatter every day 🥴) waist. And the only top that fits Nat is one of her hoodies that when shipped to her came in a way too big size. Way too big when she originally got it. Now… her belly presses tightly to the kangaroo pocket. She has no underwear that fits either, so when she goes out clothes and food shopping… she'll be going commando. 😳😳😳

She really, really wants someone else to do this whole stuffing, weight gain thing with. It’s really damn hard to keep going when she’s by herself! And she knows she could do better- she could get bigger if she had someone to help her...

The first realization is an easy enough fix, an expensive fix, but an easy enough fix.

The second realization takes her back to the internet, back to researching the feederism community… maybe she could pay someone to help her? God knows she has enough money to do it with the monetary compensation the good ol’ US government gave her to shut her up for the shit she’s done and not complain about any mental or physical blowback. But- there have to be, like, sex workers that wouldn’t mind helping Natasha out with her kink, right? Or maybe, she doubts it, but maybe she could get a hook-up that could help her? She knows this isn’t an out-in-the-open type kink though so… that second option is less likely. However, it’s the option she ends up getting to try because she finds a website specifically for kinky people. A hook-up/dating/networking sight. She searches by fetish. She finds lots of people that are willing to “play” with this fetish. This kink. Lots of people with listed limits and safewords and references. Lots of people looking for feedees. But the most interesting- the most appealing person she finds is Steve.

He’s one of the rare people that has a fully shown face, not just body pics or pics of their face but hidden with sunglasses, masks, hats, or whatever other creative thing people can come up with. Privacy, yeah, of course, Natasha gets that but…

She can’t help but lick her lips, staring at Steve’s handsome face. Hungry for him. Her eyes widen as she scrolls through his photos- they make her mouth water. He’s big. Not big like Natasha wants to get - not fat - but muscular. Obviously strong. Full body shots that look to be taken after the gym, sweaty and huge; she zooms in on his hands. She imagines his hard muscle against her softening body, his impossible abs against her ever-expanding gut, his big hands grabbing Natasha’s chin and her new double chin and forcing more food down her throat, helping her continue with her stuffing and helping her chew and petting her throat as she swallows, strong and dominating but encouraging too. Praising her for getting everything down. Petting her stomach when it aches after she’s eaten too much, both genuinely wanting to help her out but also wanting to tease her. He has two hands, one could be on her stomach and the other between her legs but… he uses both to massage her, at first. Then, oh god, Natasha’s thighs squeeze together as she imagines those thick, big fingers crooking inside her and rubbing her clit when she's so full already. She shuts her eyes, her blush burning hot on her cheeks. Fuck, she can’t imagine how much better gluttony and sex would be with this man.

She has to message him. It takes her nearly an hour to draft the perfect opening message. Then another hour to take her mind off of it, stuffing herself on top of what she’s already eaten throughout the day. (Not that her mind stays off of this stranger, Steve, because her thoughts circle right back to him when she gives in to the need to come. Whimpering, fantasizing about having to do so little work that her hands are tied to the bedposts and he’s sitting on her jiggly, soft, spread thighs, straddling them, feeding her and controlling a dildo he’s fucking in and out of her at the same time, telling her he’s going to stuff her and stuff her and stuff her, incrementally feeding her more and splitting her pussy open with bigger and bigger toys. He’s going to fill her more than she thought possible.)

Eventually, Steve messages back, saying all the right things, raising all the green flags even as he teases her- calling her first timer yet verifying that she actually wants this, she’s thought it through, treating her both respectfully and gently. He's more experienced than she is. Much more experienced.

They talk back and forth.

Talking through the site at first, then they exchange phone numbers and speak over the phone. At which point Steve tells her he loves her voice, saying he’s never met someone who sounds so husky and sensual in everyday life, like an old movie actress, voice rough from too many cigarettes. It makes her laugh and her heart flutter, excited for their instant chemistry and what it’ll translate to later…

Later but not too much later because it turns out they’re near in locations, so they pick a date soon. A test run at Natasha’s place. They’ll hook-up more if the first time goes well. Nat knows it will go well. She looks forward to blowing up.

Christ, she’s gonna get so fucking fat with Steve’s help…

(And, of course, they go from being just fetish-fuck-buddies to being lovers eventually because I said so lol. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. Natasha is fat and growing and Steve is a great doting but also domineering boyfriend.)

Enjoy the filth!! I went a little off topic from your prompt 🤭 I hope that's okay lol