#fat running journey

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Walking In Two Worlds & The Everlasting Road

YA sff set in the near future where an opensource augmented reality is commonly used like social media, and there’s also a completely virtual fantasy game version

follows an Anishinaabe girl who who’s the top player in the VR game, and is constantly fighting to keep her place against the misogynist neo-nazi group in second place

as well as her real life, dealing with being a shy and self-conscious teen growing up on the Rez, and her brother having cancer

and a Uyghur boy who’s moved to her community from China after finding acceptance in an online community (even when he doesn’t agree with their more extreme views) - but when he gets to know Bugz, he has to decide who truly deserves his loyalty

great mix of sff and culture, the future while also very real community traumas of the past (and present)

[weightlosstransformationhub]

"From Flab to Fab: My Weight Loss Transformation Journey 🌟"

🏋️‍♀️ Fitness Enthusiast | Health Advocate | Transformation Storyteller 🌈 Embarking on a journey to a healthier, happier me! Follow along as I share my triumphs, struggles, and the secrets to my weight loss transformation. 💪 Let's inspire and support each other on the path to wellness! 🍏✨ #WeightLossJourney #HealthyLiving

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[bi-writes]

Okay but MOB sitting on Simon's lap, cuddling as they watch some movie Simon picked out because it was his turn. At one point she gets up and he thinks she's just going to use the restroom, hands on her hips to help stabilize her. Only instead of leaving, she turns around and sits on her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes at him but otherwise just soaking in how pretty he is. He probably makes a joke, says he loves her and when he still doesn't move figures she just wants a moment and continues to watch the screen.

When she finally works herself up to it, she starts sliding her hands up and down his thighs and just the sensation and imagery alone has him hard and he can't bring himself to ask her to stop when it feels so nice. Eventually her hands wander up further and she begins to play with the button of his jeans. Still not stopping her, even as she unbuttons and zips them down to pull out his erection. When he finally looks down, she stops and stares innocently up at him.

As soon as his attention's somewhat back up on the screen, she repositions herself and licks a stripe up his dick to bring his head into her mouth to swirl around. He doesn't even last that long and she doesn't let him pull her off when he comes.

Or something like that...

mail-order bride (18+)

simon likes action movies. they're his favorite, by far. he likes to watch the over-the-top car races in the middle of metropolitan cities, he likes big, stupid explosions and when the protagonist has their enemy at the end of their gun and says something cheesy like "you're not going anywhere now."

he told you once that he likes the simplicity. the happy endings. the key recovered, a family saved, the epic conclusion of an explosive journey that always ends in the bad guy in handcuffs and the good guy on a beach sipping a mai tai, getting the girl, saving the world.

you think maybe he likes it because it dampens reality. you have seen the aftermath of an op gone wrong; in this way, simon can fantasize just a little. he can pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world for 90 minutes or so.

what's so wrong with that?

he's so pretty.

he ran errands for you today. came back from the store with a paper bag in his hands, setting it down on the counter and unpacking it. you were sat at the kitchen counter, the orange cat wrapped up completely in a burrito of a towel so you could cut her dagger-like claws without risk of retaliation. simon was watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but as he unpacked the bag, you had all but melted in your chair.

a refill of your favorite makeup remover (you were going to run out tonight, guaranteed). vitamins (ya look right sick, baby, drink y'r juice). your favorite brand of pads (just tell me which ones, i'll get it right, promise). sour sweets (cherry-flavored, of course, sour because he likes the face you make when you pop them into your mouth). when the last box hit the counter, you had dropped the cat, much to her relief.

condoms. fucking condoms.

no, he's not pretty. simon is so fucking hot.

he doesn't budge when you get up to put the empty popcorn bowl into the sink. when you come back in the room, simon is still staring at the television, eyes trained on the spy on screen hopping between rooftops as they dodge bullets. you bite your lip watching him, unable to stop thinking about simon, simon, simon.

he's wearing nice jeans. straight jeans, but even the extra give doesn't matter when your husband is made of pure muscle and fat. you can see his stomach through his shirt since it's tucked in, white fabric showing off that nice pudge that you love laying your head on, your palm, knowing how solid and strong he most certainly is. nghghhhh, and his arms--big, bulging, tattooed, a perfect canvas for colorful markers or glitter or maybe your tongue.

it's subconscious, really. the carpet is soft under your knees as you kneel at his feet, lowering yourself so you can blink up at him big and wide as he keeps his eyes on the movie. he does notice you, however; his big hand slides down his thigh, and your eyes flutter a little when he passes it over your head then down your face, a pretty little pet between his legs.

"not supposed to be on y'r knees f'me, baby," simon mutters, but you can't answer because his thumb slips into your mouth. you wrap your lips around it absentmindedly, running your tongue over the thick pad of it. "tha's my job."

you sit up on your knees, leaning over him, and he gives you his attention finally, a twitch of a smile as he bends his neck a little and kisses you warmly. you steady yourself by putting your hands on his thighs, gripping the meat of them firm as you slip your tongue into his mouth and draw a low grunt from deep within his chest.

"always working for me, simon," you whisper between kisses. "always..."

fuck, the blood rushes to his cock almost immediately. he has such a soft spot for you. taking care of you, doing things for you, buying you what you need--it makes him so fucking hard thinking about fulfilling every need of yours. you deserve nothing but nice dreams, good meals, happy cats, a well-loved pussy, all the love his broken heart can give. he chubs up in his pants every time you ask him for something.

can you carry this for me, simon?

oh, i need some help with this, baby, just here...

can you get me more of this? i'm about to run out.

the zipper is stuck, simon...can you get me out of this?

ugh, you're his walking wet dream. and you're kneeling in between his legs, his sweet girl pouting up at him, and--oh, fuck--

your hands are soft under his shirt. you've untucked it just enough, your warm fingers sliding along the band of his jeans. he hisses a little, his body stiffening, and you smooth a thumb over his belt before kissing him again.

"you're so pretty, simon," you whisper, and he licks over your bottom lip in response, drawing a soft whine out of you. his thighs widen just a little when he hears the clink of his belt, feeling the waistband loosen as you draw it out from the loops and toss it onto the carpet behind you. "such a handsome man you are..."

"come off it," simon growls a little, and you giggle, freeing the button and slipping your hand down. his mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cup him with a hot hand, fingers sliding under his length to fondle his balls.

"mmm..." you follow his sputtering mouth, breathing him in. "actually, simon...i really, really wanna get on it..."

"wot a brat," simon murmurs, clicking his tongue. "can't be fuckin' patient--ahh!"

you pull him out of his jeans with a firm tug before sticking your tongue out and kneeling back down to lick a curious stripe up the underside of him. simon is pulsing, radiating heat and already leaking beads of stringy pre-cum, and as you suck the tip of him into your mouth, you realize just how thick your husband really is.

you've never seen him quite this naked, quite this up close. when he fucked your thighs, he had felt big, but his cock is truly making a space for itself in your mouth--

"ah!" you gasp as he fists your hair and pulls you off, leaning down to kiss you hard.

"baby--"

"i want it--" you whimper, using your hands, letting the spit from your mouth drip down his cock as your fingers spread it wide, pumping him softly. "simon, please! please! you always say...always say i can have whatever i want, please..."

when he lets your hair go, you dive. you suck him into your mouth, practically purring as you press him back into the couch and suck. he tastes like a man should, like a husband should, musk and a little sweat and just enough soap to have you a little light-headed. with the first bob of your head, simon shudders, a big hand cupping the back of your neck as he drops his chin to his chest to watch you. he uses his other hand to push your hair back, his mouth falling open a little as he watches your eyes roll back in your head as you try to fit more of him into your mouth.

your mouth squelches with every bob. spit gathers around the edges of your mouth, little globs dripping out as you slurp and flick your tongue over every vein and soft patch of skin. you're making a mess of him, all soft mouth and wiggly tongue and gentle moans that make him seize up.

it's not even a minute of your soft sucking, and simon is caught off guard by his own release. he wants to apologize, but you look so fucking pretty, coughing a little around his wet cock.

you don't stop then either.

some of it drips down around your hands, his own cum webbing between your fingers and getting onto the front of your shirt and staining his jeans, but you keep your mouth on him. you nuzzle the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, pull off just enough to suck so softly on the tip of him.

"baby, fuck--" simon chokes, watching you through lidded, hazy eyes. "please, fuck--"

"i want it," you whisper, smoothing a wet hand down his length. he's getting hard all over again, and he nearly cums a second time when you let your eyes find his and pepper kisses from the tip of him all the way to the base. "don't i get w-whatever i want, simon? c-can't i...can't i have more?"

simon chuckles a little. he uses his thumb to swipe a glob of cum off your chin, bringing it up to his own mouth to suck off with a snort.

"you want more, baby?" simon asks, and you sit back up on your knees, pressing your forehead to his as he eyes your lips. they're a tad swollen, kiss-bitten and wet. "wot more do ya want, hmm? wot is it my wife wants so much, huh?"

you smile, wide, those big eyes sparkling. you give him another slow stroke with your hand, and he hisses, gritting his teeth as he watches your smile get just that much bigger.

"i want you to stop playing games with me, simon," you say softly. "you'll never win. so just give me what i deserve."

"wot you deserve?"

"don't i deserve you, simon?" you ask, and when he fails to answer, you swipe your thumb over his cock, drawing a cracked groan out of him. "you won't make me beg, will you, simon?"

"no," simon pants, leaning further into you, pressing his face to yours. "never. my wife doesn't beg for anythin'."

"you promise, simon?"

"my wife gets woteva she fuckin' asks for. olways."

[shan-yee]

𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲

𝘑𝘶𝘯-𝘏𝘰 𝘹 𝘝𝘐𝘗!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

๏𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 = 1393

๏𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 = oral, noncon, imagine that Jun-Ho wasn’t taken away by the old man, reader is a VIP and the wife of one of the guys, the reader wears a bathrobe and underwear, blackmail, the reader always keeps her promises.

๏𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 = Jun-Ho wants informations, she has them. But nothing is free in this word.

๏𝘼/𝙉 = When « fine, i’ll do it myself » hits a little to hard. And i think that i’m getting better at writing smut-

๏𝘼/𝙉 2 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

[̲̅t̲̅][̲̅a̲̅][̲̅g̲̅][̲̅l̲̅][̲̅i̲̅][̲̅s̲̅][̲̅t̲̅] : @zeizeisjy @fnl9zer @missroro @skywalker0809

𝘪´𝘮 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘳𝘶𝘣 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺

—I will tell you everything you want, but first, i want you.

Her words resonated in the young policeman's head, he glanced at the remote control she held in a firm grip in her right hand and considered his options.

He could refuse and try to run away but she would set off the alarm which will let everyone know of his presence, or he could accept and she would give him everything he wants.

—Think fast pretty boy.

Jun-Ho took a deep breath and raised his arms in submission before placing his weapon on the oak desk to his right. The young woman smiled at him with a satisfied air and crossed her arms under her chest, she slowly ran her thumb over the big red button on the remote control before slipping it into one of the pockets of her bathrobe.

—Good choice, but just to be sure I'll keep that there.

She sat at the end of her bed and, silently, beckoned him to come closer, her mischievous smile reaching her ears, taunting him. Jun-Ho approached with wary and slow steps, his dark shoes clattering on the floor, near her, he placed a single knee on the ground and stared straight into her eyes. It was a kind of rebellion, a way for him to show her that even if she had him on his knee, he was not her slave and sooner or later he would regain his freedom.

[Y/N] seemed to appreciate his defiance and with her right hand she caressed his face, almost affectionately. She ran her fingertips over his jaw, delicately tracing it down to his chin, then touched his dry, pink lips before finishing her little journey on his eyebrows.

—You’re so pretty. She whispered after a few moments of intense silence.

While she had fun tracing each feature of his face, the young man had wondered how he had found himself in this situation. He had managed to slip away from the room where some VIPs were watching the fifth game take place but had to quickly hide before being noticed by a guard, which led him to enter the young woman's room.

In other circumstances he would surely have turned around when passing her in the street, in a bar, he might even have offered her a drink, if he wasn't too busy hatching a plan to find his brother.

Finally, with the tip of her thumb, she pressed on his chin, making him part his lips and slipped her tongue between them. Jun-Ho seemed surprised but feeling the young woman's nails on his neck, urging him to react, he closed his eyes and reciprocated the kiss.

He felt her breath intertwined with his, just like their tongues, and in a seconds he got caught up in this game of sensuality and his left hand slowly went up the leg of the [H/C] haired woman, from the ankle to the thigh passing through the knee. Once he reached her thigh he planted his fingers in its fat, making his partner smirk in their kiss.

Meanwhile, her fingers gripping his neck slipped through his sweat-damp hair and she passed them through his black locks with a certain tenderness.

Jun-Ho was the first to pull away to catch his breath, a light stream of saliva connecting them before it broke. The young woman smiled at him, a spark of desire shining and flickering in her [E/C] eyes.

—You’re good at kissing, let’s see if you’re good at something else.

The young man watched the VIP's fingers undo the knot that held her [F/C] bathrobe, he stared, breathless, as the fabric slid down her shoulders then spread out on the satin sheets of the bed. His eyes slowly moved up to her stomach and little by little to her chest, he admired it rising then falling with each of her inhalations, her [S/C] skin covered with a very light trickle of sweat.

Jun-Ho slightly straightened up to be face to face with her, he gave her one last disdainful look, which secretly hid another emotion, before placing light kisses on her collarbones. Little by little they descended on her chest and his tongue left a light trail of saliva mixed with her perspiration up to her sternum.

He took a moment to get used to the salty taste that came to prick his tongue before he resumed his kisses on her breasts while his hands, placed on her thighs, slided to the edges of her panties.

He took the underwear, after she lifted her butt off the bed, down her legs and let it fall to the floor. The young woman spread her thighs and he ventured between them without a word.

Their breathing quickened in unison and he felt her burning gaze on the top of his head as well as the skin on the underside of her thighs, which he held apart to have more room, heat up under his palms.

He heard the slats creak as she leaned back, her weight supported by her arms, she looked at him intently, her lips parted and impatient. Suddenly, feeling his hot, ragged, breath against her sex, she squeezed the black satin sheets before closing her eyes, her respiration hitched with apprehension since she hadn't been satisfied by a man in months.

Jun-Ho let go of one of her thighs and came to spread her intimate lips using his thumb, he observed for a few seconds before attacking her clitoris. He kissed it first before taking it between his lips and sucking gently. His black orbs observed her, admiring her face tense with pleasure.

Her reactions gave him a certain pleasure and he felt his breathing speed up as well as his hands becoming sweaty. He wanted to make her pay for this humiliation but a part of him found her sensual and seductive, perhaps without realizing it, he was enjoying it much more than he would like to admit.

Using the tip of his tongue, he made small, quick and precise circles. It didn't take long for Jun-Ho to understand what she liked, the leg of the young woman he held in his left hand beginning to tremble under his movements.

[Y/N] fell back, which surprised the police officer between her legs who followed the movement of her body and brought her pelvis closer to the edge of the bed, while letting out a small chuckle which quickly turned into moans. The back of her head sank into the covers as she bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her noises of pleasure, and quickly the fingers of her hand stretched to get lost in her partner's black locks.

She pulled lightly on it as the muscles in her lower abdomen contracted as she felt her orgasm coming. Jun-Ho seemed to understand this and his long movements became faster while two of his fingers came to venture inside her.

It only took a few movements of scissors and tongue for the knot that had formed in her stomach to explode and a long moan to echo through the room. The woman felt her eyes roll back and her thighs suddenly lock and cramp from the pleasure.

She had had many partners in her life, without her husband knowing it of course, but rare were the times when she had felt such ecstasy, not only was he handsome but his tongue was one of the best.

Jun-Ho slowly stood up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and retrieved his gun without taking his eyes off her. The [H/C] haired woman, after regaining her senses, stood up and gave him a confused look.

—You said you wanted me, you had me, now give me what i want.

There was a slight pregnant pause where she could observe his beautiful glistening skin under the dimly light of the room as well as a slight bulge in the chic black pants that he had stolen, finally the young rich woman started to laugh, her breathing still irregular, numb legs and wet forehead—like her inner thighs—.

—Alright pretty boy, give me your number and I will send you every proof I have.

[dandp]

Update: we may never get the true answer but I do think, as @fictitiousponies and @frumdyke both suggested, Dan's item is likely some sort of oversized blunt or the like. That does seem to generally make sense both visually and for why they would comment on it the way they did.

Phil's object has been guessed to be a potato or a painted rock? Rock makes more sense to me visually but without more context I honestly have no idea about that one (and I'm also stuck on what seems to be a little nub on top in the middle? what's this thing's deal) Would love to hear if anyone else has any guesses for it!

Am I dumb what are either of the things they're holding here

[grimesbunny]

when you sleep

cw dubcon. somnophelia. unprotected piv. dirty talk. prison era. secret relationship. not proofread idc.

the exhaustion festering inside rick’s bones takes the form of something more heady once his eyes adjust enough in the darkness to make out your sleeping form. clad in just his shirt and your cotton panties, rounded, plump flesh peeking out just enough to feel purposely teasing. it takes everything in him to constrain his groan, cock quickly filling the front of his blood stained pants. you’re none the wiser— turned away from him on your stomach as slow breaths cause your chest to rise and fall rhythmically.

gently, he reaches over your figure, brushing your wild hair behind your ear to get a better look at your pretty face. the lack of ponytail or braid leads him to presume you fell asleep on accident, probably succumbing to restlessness after having been waiting for him all night. that thought is what has him reaching down to palm at his bulge.

“my sweet girl.” he coos lowly. his voice sounds gravelly to his own ears after having spent the majority of the journey back to the prison in silence. “so beautiful, aren’t you?”

it’s as if a magnetic force brings his lips to your cheek, his calloused hand to your hip. cant help himself.

the bed dips under the weight of his knee, sliding it where one of your legs is perched off to the side. his warm hands feel you up innocently at first, sculpting the dips and crevices of your pliant body. reveling in how soft. . . how alive you feel. “missed you so much. missed touchin you.”

his inhibitions falter the longer he sits there, hovering over you. breathing you in. he lets his hips fall slightly to catch the friction of your ass against his hard on.

“god.” he laughs out in disbelief at himself. “feel that baby? feel me throbbin for you in your sleep?”

he looks up for a reaction, any indication that you’re somehow consenting and enjoying this, because he doesn’t know if he can just stop here. he pins his hands on either side of you for leverage as he bucks into you. the side of his brain nagging at him for how perverted he’s being is overtaken by the part that’s chanting desperately for more.

“drive me crazy. make me need you so bad, don’t even have to try.” he grits out the misplaced blame, his thrusts becoming more deliberate. he’s chasing his own high, using your unconscious body to get off. humping you like a dog in heat.

one particularly rough thrust jostles you slightly, making you shift in your sleep. rick doesn’t stop, not even when a soft groan slips out of your mouth. not even when you blink awake.

“rick? is that you?” the mixture of confusion and innocence in your voice only spurs him on, his breathing growing heavier by the second.

“shhh, it’s me, baby.” he places another kiss onto your cheek, soothing your hair out of the way in attempt to comfort you. maybe coax you back to sleep. his lips trail down to your shoulder, the snap of his hips never faltering. “so soft, honey. how’s it that in a world like this, you still feel so fuckin soft?”

your next words sound more clear, more awake. you turn to look at him in the dark. his hair falling over his forehead, still fully clothed and unshowered from the run. the lustful glint that has turned his eyes almost completely black. “what’re you doing, rick?”

“i know, i know. fuck.” he’s sympathetic, even as his hand travels up your shirt. as it trails along your stomach, as it gropes the fat of your breast. you gasp, your own hand coming to weakly circle around his bulging bicep. as if you could ever fight him off. “can you feel how hard you made me?”

you don’t respond verbally, because rick doesn’t count whimpering into your pillow as a response, but you push your ass back to meet his thrusts, still meek from sleep. he groans out, long and throatily and low, a proud grin etched onto his lips.

“there’s my girl. d’you miss me too?” his breath tickles the shell of your ear, followed by a rougher kiss to your jaw. “waiting for me to get home and take you?”

you nod as best you can in your position, letting yourself bask in the pleasure of having him pressed against you. you’re leaking, soaking the spot where your groins connect. rick has to reach down and feel it.

“sure feels like you missed me.” he chuckles, cocky. the rough pads of his fingers dip into your panties from behind, sliding along your slippery folds. “fuckin’ say it.”

“missed you s’much, rick.” you whine through delirium and pleasure, bucking down into his hand involuntarily. “was getting worried.”

“poor thing. gonna make it up to you.” he hums absently. too lost in the feeling of you. your puffy mound, the scent of your hair. he dips a thick finger into your spongy entrance. “look at that, always open up nice and easy for me, huh? could slide right in.”

you instinctively clench around him at that. your thighs threaten to close— they would if it weren’t for the way his knee has rooted in between them. “yeah? want me to stuff this little pussy?”

you manage to squeak out your confirmation and he removes his hand, but the sound of his belt unraveling behind you is enough to make you whimper in anticipation.

“yeah, you need it just as bad as i do.” he states. he takes a pillow from beside your head, lifts your hips with one hand and slides it under you in one swift motion. it’s a position he’s taken you in several times, but neither of you have gotten used to just how deep it sends him. and it’s one of those nights where he needs to be as deep as possible, breach uncharted parts of you. “don’t you?”

you feel his spongy, thick tip press against your entrance in the dark and squeeze your eyes shut. he’s painfully hard at this point, and it takes every last bit of resilience from rick not to shove himself inside and pound your cervix until it’s bruised. of course, you would take whatever he gives you without complaint. but he’s not a barbarian.

“oh— mhm. need you, rick.” you confirm, though it feels like you’re speaking through cotton with how exhaustion and pleasure are playing tug of war inside you. it’s far from a lie. you need him in more ways than one, much like how the rest of the group needs him.

only this part of it, the one saved for when the two of you are alone, spoken through silent glances and subtle touches throughout the day— this is sacred. just between you.

“you’re gonna get me, honey.” he knees your thighs farther apart to make room and eases his way in. his ego soaks up your gasp at the intrusion, the stretch.

it winds him too, sends him toppling forward and landing with his hands pinned on either side of you for stability. he’ll never not marvel at how warm and tight you are inside, sucking him in like you never want him to pull out. it’s almost gotten you pregnant more than a few times.

“yeah, that’s it.” he groans, careful not to wake anyone in your cell block. the heavy weight of him envelopes you from behind, pressing you uncomfortably into the prison mattress. your bones are sure to be sore and bruised from it tomorrow, but all you can focus on is his voice, his breathing, his scent— his cock. filling and stretching you so nicely. curving enough to slot inside your stomach.

he’s grunting out strings of praises into your ear — “so fuckin’ perfect. takin’ care of me…” — and all you can manage out are mindless mewls, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. he doesn’t warn you before he cums inside, just fucks into you rapidly until you feel the warmth blossoming in your abdomen. it momentarily snaps you out of your entranced state, and you attempt blink back at him.

“rick, did you—”

“couldn’t find condoms, baby. i tried.” he sounds completely unfazed. he kisses your cheek one more time before he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. “go back to sleep.”

and with that, he rolls over next to you. it’s not seconds later that you hear snores falling from his mouth. you try your best to ignore the feeling of his come leaking out of you and close your eyes as you snuggle up next to him, knowing he’ll be out of your bed long before anyone else wakes up in the morning.

[msbigredmachine]

Cheat Meal (Roman Reigns)

The OTC is hungry for a whole lot more than just good food.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem OC

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Based off Roman's TikTok where he complains about his diet😂

Enjoy!

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

gif by @romanreigns

He shoves the last tiny piece of broccoli in his mouth and dumps the plate in the sink with a resigned sigh. The ‘breakfast’ will barely register inside his stomach but it’s the price he must pay to be in the shape he’s currently in, the best he’s ever been in. Even if it makes him miserable and slightly cranky until it’s time for his next bland meal in another couple of hours. 

Retreating to his bed at the back of the bus, Roman checks the time as he waits patiently for his wife to return from the diner across the road so they can head on to their next destination. They’re already running behind schedule with a near two-hour drive still to go. More excruciatingly, he’ll have to deal with the smell of greasy, albeit delicious food that he can’t even look at, let alone eat.

Minutes later, the sound of her perennially cheery voice floats through the air, followed by the driver thanking her for her generosity, having bought him his own breakfast. As the bus restarts its journey, the bedroom door slides open, and Roman does a double take. The yoga pants and tank top he swore he saw her exit the bus in has been replaced with one of his old t-shirts. Nothing else. The outline of her nipples betray her lack of brassiere and that fat, juicy ass of hers jiggles with every step she takes as she places a tray full of food on the dressing table, the small bedroom instantly filling with the aroma of a hearty breakfast. 

“Sorry babe, I had to wait a little bit for my milkshake,” Elise explains, piling pancakes onto a porcelain plate. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Baby, this is not how you were dressed when you left,” he points out, soaking her in as he sits up against the headboard. 

Elise giggles and settles down on the edge of the bed next to him. One glance at the contents of her plate - buttermilk pancakes smothered in butter and honey, a couple of sausage links and two thick strips of bacon - has Roman salivating. “That diet is really fucking with your head, babe,” she jokes, as he rolls his eyes. “I’ve changed into something comfier. All the better to eat my comfort food with.”

“Why you ain’t eating in the kitchen, then? You just gotta fucking tempt me, huh?” He’s not sure which one he’s talking about anymore; the food or her appearance. She looks good enough to eat every time, but she looks amazing either dressed down or in next to nothing. Like now.

Of course, nothing at all is his absolute favorite.

“Cuz I wanna share it with you. Sorry but I don’t have your discipline. Just a day on that dry ass, rabbit food ass diet of yours would fuck me up,” Elise gripes. “And don’t get me wrong. I’m so proud of you and what you’ve done with your body. You look carved from damn marble. But you’ve lost hella weight and it’s making your big ears stick out." She pouts. "I kinda miss my thick neck Daddy. There was more of him to climb.”

“You still climb me with zero problems. And I can’t eat this stuff. You know that,” he laments.

“You say that while you eye-fuck my bacon.” She picks up her fork, cuts into a pancake and daintily takes a bite before moaning in delight. The warm fluffiness of the pancake, the rich, sweet honey, the smoothness of the butter, all come together in her mouth, textures and flavors melding together as she chews and swallows. "Mmm, this is soooo good," she gushes.

Roman grits his teeth and growls sullenly, “I hate your ass right now.” 

“You’re making me feel bad.” Carefully balancing the plate in her grasp, she shifts around and straddles him, and he hisses at the way her ample backside seats flush on his crotch. Sure enough, she has no underwear on. “Daddy, have breakfast with me. You need to eat more. A couple of bites won’t hurt.”

Roman sighs heavily, smoothing his hands along her thick thighs that complement the rest of her thick body. “You know damn well I can’t say no to you when you call me Daddy.” It’s not a lie either. Three kids in three years and a closet full of Birkins, Louboutins and many other luxuries are proof of this.

Elise muses over her plate and selects one of the large strawberries topping the pancakes. “Let’s start with something sweet.” She offers it to him, seeing him relax upon realizing it’s something relatively healthy. “Eat,” she instructs.

Roman opens his mouth obediently, closing his eyes as the juice bursts on his tongue, some of it dribbling down his bearded chin. Elise grins as he moans in satisfaction, and she makes him eat the rest, his full lips streaked red from the fruit. Cheekily, she places her own lips on his, tasting the flavor for herself, and smiles triumphantly as he makes a surprised sound but deepens the kiss anyway, cupping the back of her neck to hold her against him.

“Oh, it’s like that?” he asks when she pulls away, light panting punctuating the air between them. His eyes sparkle with lust. “Thought you were only feeding me.”

“I’m multitasking.” Kissing him again, she stabs the fork into another piece of pancake, dipping it in honey and feeding it to him. She loves to do this. It’s her favorite form of intimacy. Her love language, if you will. Taking care of him, pampering him. Her gestures never fail to stir his heart, as well as other parts of his anatomy. “My sweet baby. Feel better? You’re not hungry anymore?” she teases him several bites after.

“Nope. Not for pancakes anyway,” he says. The words are cryptic and shrouded in mystery, that’s until his hand slips between her thighs. At her sharp, indrawn breath, he smiles darkly, flattening his palm so that he firmly cups her sex. “There’s another…delicacy…I wanna feast on.” 

Her husband is insatiable for her. Always has been, and she loves it. Feeling desired and wanted by such a beautiful, high-value man like him does wonders for her self-esteem and their marriage. But after one passionate, bed-rocking round earlier this morning and little food fueling him, she would think his energy is depleted. “Baby, you should rest,” she tries to reason, but he’s adjusting her already, forcing her to put her food away on the nightstand.

“I’ll rest after you come in my mouth,” is his curt, yet loaded answer. And just like that, her resolve is reduced to ashes.

He scoots his big self down the bed until she is seated on his face. Elise barely has time to collect herself when his calloused hands scrape her thighs and clutch her hips to hold her in place. Her body jerks as his tongue finds her folds in record time, lapping greedily. Heat instantly washes over her with a wave of nerves and lust as he works her with that unmatched skill that brings her to surrender. In mere seconds, she is lost in the pleasure, her pussy dripping from a mix of her juices and his saliva, all of it slurped up by his talented tongue.

"Fuck, Roman…” she moans, squirming on his face, her body ablaze. He’s so damn good at this shit, it’s damn near unfair. It feels like her whole pussy is in his mouth as he licks and sucks to his heart's desire. He tightens his arms around her thighs, his massive hands prying her open for further onslaught. The warmth of his breath, the prickle of his beard, his moans against her sensitive flesh has her mind spinning, prompting her to rock her hips in rhythm with his circling tongue, grabbing her breasts through her t-shirt for added stimulation. Her entire being hums with anticipation as her orgasm builds and builds. “Ro, I'm...I…oh fuck, Daddy,” she gasps, unable to string a simple sentence together in the state of bliss she’s in.

But of course, her husband knows exactly what she wants. What she needs. To give it to her, he works harder, incorporating his nose and chin, gliding them back and forth along her wetness, buoyed by the quiver of her thighs as he sends her over the edge. The explosion of her body is of seismic proportions, and Elise slaps her hand over her mouth to muffle her scream, bucking, writhing, whining as pleasure consumes her whole.

She’s still reeling as Roman carefully lifts her off his face and drags her back down. His mouth captures hers with a dizzying urgency, exchanging the sweet tanginess of her arousal. They lick and suck hungrily on each other’s tongues, his hand reaching up to curl around her throat making her pussy spasm with need, so much so that her essence begins to smear the center of his gray sweatpants. Roman looks down at her mess with a proud, arrogant smile, and he lifts his hips just enough to pull the stained pants down his legs and kick them off. He strokes his dick, long, thick and hard, for a few seconds before guiding it inside her.

“Get this dick, baby, c'mon,” he orders, his low, gruff command sending yet another tremble through Elise that he both hears and feels as her breath catches. They moan together as she sinks lower onto him, balancing herself with her hands on his bare, muscular chest. Her hips roll back and forth, grinding on him, keeping him pinned to the sheets while she chases down their collective pleasure. 

He fucking loves it when she’s on top. It allows him a holistic view of the body he's been obsessed with since the day they first met. His big hands roam her front, relieving her of her t-shirt so he can properly idolize her breasts, so plump and pillow-soft as he massages them, gleeful at the way her nipples harden from his touch. He then travels south to grab her ass, enjoying the round, supple cheeks flexing against his palms as she rides him. He grips each one possessively and proceeds to lift her up and down on him, bouncing her on his throbbing erection. 

“Fuuuuck...”

“Nah, you can take it. And not too loud now, we don’t need the driver hearin’ us again, hmm?” Roman taunts, squeezing her left cheek and spanking it hard, earning a yelp from her. His eyes are blown as he studies the expressions on her beautiful face. “My fine ass, sexy ass wife. Climb me like only you can, baby,” he encourages her with soft moans of his own.

Falling forwards, Elise tucks her face into her man’s neck, her breathy kisses warming his skin as she manages to maintain the pace he’s set for her. He’s so deep inside her, nearing her cervix it feels like, the sweet sensations amplified by their chests pressed together, his large hands caressing her with so much love and care and reverence while talking her through it with his deep, husky voice and dirty words. Years together and their lovemaking is still as earth-shattering as their first time, and she appreciates it more than he’ll ever know.

Roman kisses every part of her his mouth can reach, reveling in her increasing moans as he angles his hips, keeping his dick buried in the ocean of her cunt. “Leese, you feel so fuckin’ good…” he groans on her shoulder, licking the butterfly tattoo etched on her skin, “Damn, baby, I could stay inside you like this all day…”

Elise tries to agree with him, but her jaw drops when he bucks up into her without warning, his hands planted on her ass holding her down to take every inch of him. The depth, the intensity and precision of his strokes render her speechless. Her eyes roll back as his lips find her nipples, suckling the swells of her heavy breasts, the wet smacking sounds of his hungry mouth and her gushy pussy sounding around the bedroom. The shit is so good that neither wants it to end, more than content to just remain on the bus and fuck all day long.

"Daddy," she whines, her fingers sliding over the back of his hair, tangling in the long, soft locks as she locks hazy gazes with him. His brows are furrowed, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth; telltale signs that he’s close, just like she is. "Oh baby, I'm gonna come again..." she whimpers.

"Yeah? Is my girl about to nut?" Roman asks, grasping her chin and brushing their lips together. "Gimme that nut, beautiful. Soak Daddy’s dick with your wet ass pussy," he goads her with another kiss, another smack on her backside that makes her ride him harder. Her pupils are dark and dilated with desire, reflecting the passion he’s feeling. He wraps his huge arms around her middle, and pushing up on his heels, he accelerates, fucking her faster, thrusting deeper, until her moans dissolve to broken, breathless cries as she trembles on top of him. Her walls milk his dick greedily and trigger his own release. Roman’s groans and curses fill the room, his body shuddering too as he empties his load, filling her to the brim. 

With a soft whine, Elise melts on her husband’s heaving body, both parties spent but immensely sated. An eternity passes before either move, Elise reaching over Roman’s prone frame to grab a piece of bacon and pop it into his mouth.

“Good? There's more if you want,” she asks, watching him chew on it.

Roman sighs contentedly and rests his head on the pillow. “Mm-hmm. That's another couple added minutes on the treadmill though.”

Elise giggles and snuggles up against her action figure of a husband. “You’ll be fine. And you’re perfect to me already, by the way,” she assures him.

THE END

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

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[bellyyearner]

Office life at 550+ lbs

Word count: 1061

Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective

No gender mentioned POV

Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.

As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.

And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.

Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.

You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.

The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".

Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.

Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR

"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."

Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.

Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"

A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.

With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy

Part 2

[werecreature-addicted]

I have been waiting for this! This has been stuck in my head since you mentioned how there's too many werewolf x bunny fics.

Imagine there's a village of prey hybrids. All the villagers that live there are some kind of prey animal.

The village is very peaceful, but is the target of a tribe of predator hybrids that dwell in the deepest part of the forest.

Every year, these predator hybrids would attack the prey village and would kidnap any villager unlucky enough to be caught.

These attacks typically happen around mid to late spring, from dusk to well into the night.

The prey villagers always hide around this time, but at least one to three people end up being taken.

Last year was one of the reader's friends. A sweet little sheep that was said to be taken by a large male black wolf. Poor girl was likely eaten by that horrible beast! (In a way she was eaten~)

This year, it is reader's turn.

Reader is a deer hybrid that got caught while out gathering food in the forest. Only to be jumped by a strong and handsome male mountain lion hybrid and taken back to his tribe.

There reader finds her friend as well as other people from her village, all well and alive and with large clearly pregnant bellies as well as a few children.

Turns out the predator tribe has been taking people from your village as their mates. Even treating their prey mates with the utmost care.

Something the reader will understand fully once she's been bred with her first litter of cubs.

your parents had always warned you to be careful when you left the safety of the village, especially during spring when nearby predators would go into heat and kill little deer girls like you to feed to keep up their strength. You were so careful, the fastest in the herd, the best at running away, no predator could ever catch you....other people weren't so lucky. Every year a few people would go missing, trail too close to the border, stay out foraging after sunset, and disappear.

Most of the time, you don't know the prey who gets taken, but sometimes you do, like when your best friend got dragged off by a horrifying wolf. You grieved the loss of your friend and redoubled your commitment to safety... but you got cocky. you were the fastest in your age group, no one could catch you, especially not some heavy, slow predator.

It's a warm spring evening, the breeze gentle and sweet, smelling like honeysuckle and green grass. the sunsets casting the valley in golden light, your basket is full of fat wild blackberries. how could anything go wrong on a day like this? A twig snaps to your right, and you turn and freeze, looking carefully at the tree line. you don't see anything... but your heart is still racing, by the time you spot the hungry green eyes peering up at you it's already too late. you take off running, but for once, you aren't fast enough.

The mountain lion pounces and lifts you off of your feet, throwing you easily over his broad shoulders, you freeze, your heart beating faster and faster, you need to think, he hasn't killed and eaten you yet- maybe you could escape, you just need to keep your head.

It's a much shorter journey to the preditor village than you would have thought, you'd never traveled far from home so you had no idea that they were so close this whole time. What's even more surprising is the amount of prey animals, wandering around town and looking happy. A rabbit boy with big floppy ears hanging off the arm of a buff-looking wolf, a deer hybrid like yourself flirting with two different lions, and a sheep- a sheep that you recognize. Your eyes go wide as it clicks into place. the people being taken weren't being killed at all.

The mountain lion puts you down and looks at you closely, evaluating you. "I wasn't too rough was I? You're not hurt?" he asks. you shake your head slowly

"n-no. I'm not hurt just- scared," you admit shyly. He nuzzles you comfortingly,

"awe, don't worry my mate, I'll keep you safe... I won't let anything happen to you, no one else will touch you while you're with me," he purrs and you shift, embarrassed to tell him that it was him you were afraid of. although you had to admit if this big scary mountain lion is guarding you, and claiming you as their mate, you do feel a little safer.

[diwatopia]

★ kisses as payment ; remus lupin.

info: fluff, remus lupin x gn!reader, less than 1k.

two mugs sit atop the coffee table, completely forgotten as the last bits of steam roll off the lip's edge. the window is up, air fluttering past lace curtains and chilling you along with your tea.

"how's your book, dove?" remus asks, hand gliding along your shoulder as he allows himself to bask in not only your presence, but the soft texture of your (his) band tee that has him keening like a kitten.

"'s good, rem. want me to read to you?" voice soft, barely above a whisper as you run a gentle hand through his coffee hued curls with an absentminded touch. he hums in response, crawling between your legs before lifting the hem of your shirt up slightly to press a small kiss to your hip, a silent agreement as he plops all his weight atop you.

it was almost impressive how easily remus melts into you. his body nestled between your thighs with lanky arms wrapped around your hips to keep you pinned under his weight. now he definitely knows that you can't leave, not like you would ever choose to.

you giggle, reading the next three chapters with an honeyed tone, so full of life that it makes remus feel as if he's genuinely tagging along with the protagonist and their journey when his eyes close.

"love your voice, dovey..." he drawls sleepily.

it doesn't take long for a bookmark to find its way between the pages of your book, the paperback tossed to the side on the coffee table to match with the cups of tea you totally hadn't forgotten about as his voice slurs so sweetly in your ears.

"how about a nap?" you whisper, giggling as a ditzy grin graces his scarred lips. remus lifts up the bottom of your oversized shirt, tossing the fabric over his head before peppering kisses that start from your navel and past your belly button.

"hey!" you snicker, nails gently scratching at his bare back. "where'd you go?" you play along, head tilting back in hysterics as he blows a raspberry to the curve of your waist.

"stop, tha-that tickles!" voice a soft squeak as you choke on your laughter. remus attempts to lift his head and look at you but manages to get stuck between your shirt making a soft guffawing noise that gets intertwined with your own.

his nimble fingers rush to remove the shirt from his head, but not before delivering a fleeting kiss to any random patches of skin.

"you get all cute when you're sleepy," you whisper.

"i do not," he slurs softly, as if offended.

your eyes roll in response, "you never answered my question. you fancy a nap, hun?" you repeat. he takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers before he plants a peck to your wrist.

"what are you doing?" you sigh out once his lips meets the nook of your elbow, kisses littering up your bicep without a single word to exchange. there's a moment of silence that lays over the two of you like a thick duvet, remus hums with another trail of wet kisses up your shoulder and neck.

"i think you deserve kisses for reading to me..." he smoothly replies before planting a fat kiss to your lips.

you snort out, hands tossed around in his curls. "you think you're so smooth..." you whisper softly.

"i am smooth, dove."

★ diwa's notes. hiii tysm for all the love you've shown my drabbles too <3

© hobietopia 2024.

[queermccoy]

I was thinking about a prompt where Buck edges Tommy til he’s a drooling, whimpering mess 👀 he’s so pent up that he briefly looses consciousness when Evan finally lets him cum which scares Buck a little but Tommy is SO into it he swears his brain chemistry was just rewired…

it's what he deserves

this one got away from me so it's under a cut :)

(i wish you'd write a fic where...)

----

Buck pushing his fingers languidly in and out of Tommy, dragging the pads of them across his prostrate on each stroke. It was a struggle to keep pace when all he wanted to do was work him until his arms ached. But that wasn't the journey, it wasn't the right move. Instead, he kept up that slow, steady build; fingers in and then out just far enough to kiss Tommy's puffy pink rim before creeping back inside.

With his other hand, Buck stroked Tommy's cock.

It was beet red, flushed painfully with blood and hot to the touch. Buck knew that if he leaned forward and stuck it in his mouth, he'd taste like copper and desperation. But he didn't, and he wouldn't, even though he wanted to. He worked Tommy's fat dick the same way he fucked Tommy's hole. Methodically. Carefully.

A fierce confidence welled up in Buck's chest with each pained whimper that escaped Tommy's splotchy throat. He sounded like each stroke would be the thing that killed him, and it made Buck hard in his briefs.

They were in Buck's bed, sunshine spilling through his curtains and Tommy's labored breathing echoing in the open walls of the loft. Buck had brought Tommy to the brink five times already, watching his balls tighten and contract close to his body. Buck stopped him every time, taking his hand away abruptly and letting Tommy's cock bob. Listen to it slap his belly, leaving behind lube and precome on his trembling stomach muscles.

"Fuck, god, please," Tommy begged. "Come on, please!"

"Please, what?" Buck asked, just to be a dick. He smirked when Tommy slammed his head back into the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. He kicked his foot out against the bed, heel driving into the sheets. Buck could feel both of his thighs shaking around his body. More of that slick confidence burst in his chest.

Tommy cried out, halfway to a sob and so miserable. There were tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, matting up his lashes and falling down his cheeks. He tried to swipe at them with his fingers, but his hands were clumsy with how bad he needed.

"Please, what?" Buck prompted again. He slowed down even more, the push pull drag of him in and around Tommy's body going at a glacial pace. Hardly moving at all. He loosened his grip on Tommy's dick.

"Please, baby, I need to come. Please," Tommy breathed, huffing and puffing and whimpering. He was squirming, big body writhing under Buck's touch. Fuck, yeah.

Buck made a noise like he was thinking about it and then tightened his fingers around Tommy's cock. He started thrusting into his body, dragging over his prostate with quick, short strokes. Buck watched hungrily as Tommy's whole body went taught, eyes flying open and shoulders half up off the bed. Hot satisfaction was curling sweetly in the pit of Buck's stomach.

Feeling great, proud and accomplished and good, Buck leaned forward and touched the flat of his tongue to the underside of Tommy's cock.

The sound Tommy made was...wild. He sounded like a wounded animal. It was the quietest he'd been in almost an hour. Buck looked up through his eyelashes, past the ropes of come, and immediately panicked.

Fuck fuck fuck!

Tommy's eyes were closed and he'd stopped moving. He was still in a way that made Buck's blood run cold. All that confidence he felt squeezed itself into a heavy rock that sat in his stomach, crushing the satisfaction he was feeling and replacing it with worryguildpanicworrypanicguilt.

Tommy was passed out.

Buck pulled his fingers out of his hole and off of his dick. He scrambled up the bed, come dripping off his face, and shook Tommy's shoulders. "H-hey! Hey, Tommy!" he exclaimed. He was trying to remember where he left his phone. Did he need to call 9-1-1?

Finally, ten years off his life later, Tommy blinked open his eyes.

"That was amazing," he said, dazed. "I've never come that hard in my life."

Buck laughed wetly. He swiped at his eyes with the backs of his wrists. They came back wet with tears and jizz. "Don't do that!"

"What? What happened?"

"You! T-tommy, you blacked out or something! I th-thought something was wrong," Buck told him, pushing on his shoulder.

Tommy furrowed his brow and held his arms out weakly, pulling Buck in and down against his sweaty chest. Buck nosed into Tommy's damp chest hair. Having Tommy's arms around him was already making him feel better.

"I'm okay," Tommy promised. He ruffled Buck's equally sweaty hair. "You reset my brain. I was rebooting."

Buck pressed his face into Tommy's chest harder, inhaling the smell of him. "Old," he mumbled against his skin. Rebooting. God.

"Yeah, rebooting. It feels like I have a brand new operating system. Can I suck you off?"

"No," Buck said. His erection had flagged from the stress of thinking he killed his boyfriend. Then he shifted his hips and his cock dragged against the hard muscle of Tommy's thigh. He corrected himself. "Yes."

Tommy smirked at him and moved down his body, lips pressing biting kisses to his skin.

And when Tommy took him into his mouth, Buck wondered what it felt like to come so hard he'd pass out. He was curious, intellectually. And hornily.

Maybe next time.

[fatpiggyblob]

Im an insatiable and gelatinous fat blob intent on destroying my body and health with extreme obesity. I’m a female (biological) and very much a pig 🐷 but this blubber has basically turned me into quite the shapeless pile of fat! All donations to my growing body are greatly appreciated as it helps continue my journey and it also helps me keep my blog running and enables me to continue to post free content

[alphynix]

Spectember 2024 #02: Swimming Swine

An anonymous submitter asked for a "buoyant ungulate that runs atop the sea":

Pontoporcus plotus is a 1.5m long (~5') amphibious pig descended from a feral population of domestic pigs left on a small tropical island. After inadvertently wreaking havoc on much of the local ecosystem, its ancestors eventually turned to a more marine-based lifestyle foraging along beaches and in coastal waters.

Naturally highly buoyant, Pontoporcus actually floats so well that it's mostly limited to the water's surface, unable to dive to any significant degree. But despite this it's a fairly good swimmer, using broad hooves with wide fleshy pads to paddle itself along in an aquatic trotting- or running-like gait.

It forages both on land and in the water, mainly eating soft vegetation and marine plants, but much like its ancestors it will also opportunistically feed on whatever smaller animals it can catch or scavenge. Its semi-prehensile trunk-like snout is used to grasp at food items, to probe and root around in soft sediment, and as a snorkel.

Its hairless skin is very susceptible to sunburn, but it secretes a thick oily red-brown substance (similar to modern hippo "blood sweat") that acts as a natural protective sunscreen.

These pigs are accomplished island-hoppers, regularly traversing the relatively shallow seas all along their island chain – but their natural flotation and long fat bodies also make them prime targets for large aquatic predators attacking from below, so these journeys tend to involve groups of Pontoporcus "running" along the sea surface aiming for their next destination as fast as they possibly can.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x f! reader, established relationship Masturbation (F&M), guided masturbation, edging, phone sex(kinda) Summary: Steve receives a special kind of phone call when the journey to his business conference is interrupted by bad weather. WC:3.4K

He'd hoped to make it into town before sundown, badly in need of some rest ahead of the conference tomorrow but the rain put a stop to that.

It started with a light drizzle, a gentle pitter patter of barely there droplets before it turned into a downpour so heavy Steve could barely make out the road in front of him no matter how swiftly his windshield wipers swept from side to side.

So heavy that he grit his teeth and reluctantly pulled over off to the side, clicking his tongue with irritation because the winding stretch of road ahead lay draped in darkness and obscured by thick sheets of rain.

The car comes to a stop on a soggy stretch of grass just by the forest line and he kills the engine, body slumping against his seat with a sigh. Several hours on the road and he's less than pleased to hit the brakes during the home stretch of his journey.

All Steve can really do about it is stew there for a while, rain pelting so hard against the roof of his beamer like the sound of a hundred soldiers marching by. He knows waiting for the shower to cease is his only option, left idle and with little else to do but try to keep from falling sleep.

In the roaring still of his BMW Steve makes a genuine effort at being productive, thinking about the conference and all the things he'll need to do to prepare for it tomorrow. Thoughts of keynote speakers, slideshows, workshops, panel discussions and more fill the space in his mind though the longer he spends on it the more it upsets the remaining calm he'd managed to retain since the rain began.

One by one those thoughts wrap around each other in knots tight enough to choke, entangling into a head throbbing mess that has him calling it quits with another irritated click of his tongue.

Brushing the tiresome details of his business trip aside, Steve rests his temple against the window for some relief. Thankfully the cool glass soothes the thick pulsing vein that runs through there below his skin before a migraine has a chance to sprout roots in his head.

Silently, his half lidded eyes follow the fat droplets of rain as they smack against the glass and turn to rivulets that spiral down his car and soak into the soil below. Watching the sight closely for a while gets his mind working again only this time it doesn't trigger any throbbing in his head.

He thinks back to how even before he'd seen the first signs of rain a few hours back, ashy clouds blooming in size to swallow up a perfectly azure sky, he had you at the back of his mind.

Inside his red knit sweater his chest puffs and fills with a fondness so warm because he's reminded of you once again, the way you love cozying up when its all whistling winds, dense showers and charcoal skies — your favorite kind of weather.

This time he isn't afraid of letting his eyes slip shut, making it easier for him to picture you back home in Hawkins and warm in your bed. How you stayed warm he could never figure out though. You were the type who habitually kicked the covers off in your sleep, and even though what you had on underneath should have done little to keep you warm, you never so much as let out a shiver in your panties and billowing baggy t-shirt.

The same outfit you'd had on this morning, Steve recalls happily. His lips quickly curve as he smiles to himself, remembering how you looked when you wished him a safe trip after having breakfast together.

Of all the things that went wrong today, Steve cursed himself the most for having to leave you looking like that at the door, wishing he'd had just one hour more to say goodbye more thoroughly.

Your legs had been bare, easy for him to admire when the hem of your t-shirt rested just below the swell of your ass. Silently, he ogled that too as you moved around the kitchen, little glimpses of your panties showing whenever you reached for the top cabinet. And underneath the thin cotton that had wrinkled while you slept with patterns like tree branches stretching high and wide, your perked nipples showed, always drawing his attention as Steve watched the shape of your tits jiggle with every step.

Already the warmth which began in Steve's chest starts to trickle down his bones, leaving him unsure if he should hit the breaks on this feeling before it's too late. The thing was, it didn't take much to get Steve going and it was near impossible for him to hold himself back once he's worked up. Most times all it took was a cheeky flash of your breasts or a firm kiss deepened with tongue and teeth, enough to have him eager to strip you both of your clothes and pull you into the bedroom.

Now that exciting familiar feeling weaves through the spaces between his ribs and swirls at the pit of his stomach. He does his best to deter it despite how much he wants to let it take him over, looking for a distraction to stop the blood in his body from rushing south but temptation gets the better of him.

He really couldn't help it, plucking his phone from out from his back pocket to get a look at you. Steve expects to see you both pictured in his lock screen as usual, smiling cheek to cheek with him all sun glistened skin the last time he'd taken you to the beach but what he finds ballooning up on his screen instead is a notification flashing bright with your name.

Unlocking it with a swipe, Steve finds he's missed a call that'd come from you an hour ago, unable to get through to him because his phone had been set to silent like he always did when he drove.

His thumb hovers over his screen, about to scroll and call you right back, hoping all is well on your end when he pauses. Steve notices you've left him one more surprise — a voice mail. Probably asking him to call you back, he figures, but when he thinks on it a little longer he decides to listen to it first since you'd gone through the effort of sending one. Not to mention that the sound of your voice is just what he needs right now, it alone able to mend all the bitterness that'd scratched at him so fervently from the inside since he'd parked on this dark and isolated spot.

Fiddling with his phone, Steve makes sure to turn the volume all the way up so he can make out everything that you're saying clearly despite the heavy rainfall, still showing no signs of tapering as he hits play.

When the sound of your voice filters through the speaker it hits him like a beam of sunlight, exactly what he needed to hear this far into his journey, bringing a rush of warmth all throughout his body to counteract the chill brought on by the rain. It's enough to make his heartbeat pick up at the raspy tone that wraps around each of your words, soft like you're letting him in on a secret, enticing like you're curling a finger at him to beckon him closer.

"-guess you're still on the road. I was hoping you'd be at the hotel by now because...well, the thing is I miss you already. I know, I know. Clingy much, right? but it got me thinking about how you'll be all alone in that hotel room...while I'm all alone in our bed...I just— I've been thinking about you all day Steve and it's been driving me crazy."

A few wide eyed blinks is all Steve can muster as your words hang in his mind like stars peppering a pitch black sky. He shifts quickly to attention, no longer slumped in his seat as he listens on attentively, spine straight and making no effort to stifle that feeling brewing in his belly any longer.

"...this'll have to do...I know how hard you've been working and I wanna make you feel better while we're apart. So go ahead, lean back and get comfortable while I tell you what's been on my mind... Promise you're going to want to hear this", you tell him as you let out a little giggle, making Steve shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the weather outside.

"...I've been so distracted at home. I couldn't get anything done...I really did try to control myself but I couldn't...it's all I want to think about. Steve, you're all I want to think about...you and the way you touch yourself... and now I'm- well, I'm imagining you rubbing your cock while you listen to my voice... and I need to touch myself while I think about you too. Will you touch yourself for me? please, I'd love to know that you're stroking your cock for me while I'm running my hands all over my body."

Suddenly, Steve couldn't be more thankful for the heavy rain that's rendered him trapped in this lonely spot. Having passed no other vehicles in the last hour, and in no mood to deny your requests, especially when you're talking to him like that, he's free to follow your instructions without any fear of getting caught. Placing his phone on the dashboard to free up his fingers, he undoes his belt and zipper before reaching in and pulling his cock out his boxers with clumsy haste, too overeager and cloddish for his own good.

Holding a hand up to his lips, he spits out a warm, generous glob of saliva into the well of his palm, wrapping it around the thickness of his veiny shaft to pump himself to fullness. It doesn't take long with the way his length had already begun to kick up and rise at the sound of your voice, listening very carefully as you continue.

"...It's so cold here without you beside me...'been trying to warm up by taking my fingertips and running them all over myself...all the places I need your touch the most... tracing them up my thighs... slowly across my hips... up to my chest... and I'm brushing them lightly around my tits... feels so nice...m' starting to play with my nipples now... I'm wetting my fingertips with my tongue...then rubbing them so gently in circles... watching them start to perk up...'n pinching and rolling them just for you Stevie... getting them all nice and hard...feels amazing but I miss having your mouth on me...having your teeth around my nipples...the way you suck and lick them better...there's nothing else like it" you mewl softly, your voice all breathy.

The more hushed sighs and moans you let out the easier it is for him to picture you and feed the fiery ache building inside. His eyes slip shut and his hand moves up and down with shallow strokes as he imagines you in bed, your soft, naked skin gliding against your bedsheets as you touch yourself just as described. Steve's able to imagine the subtle floral scent of your favorite perfume too, powdery and sweet with a hint of cream. It always mixes well with the natural musk of your sweat, the memory of it making Steve's mouth water from all the times he's buried his face in your neck while his hips rut against your own.

"Please tell me you're touching your cock for me... I want you stroke it lightly with just your fingertips? need you to tease yourself— just like the way I'm teasing my body... need you to really work for it, okay?...so rub your fingers around the tip... do it gently before sliding your hand back down to the base...Stevie, please, I hope you're leaking...your cock looks so pretty when it does that...I love when you get it everywhere...make it messy while I start to squeeze my tits... that's it..."

Steve's hands roam dutifully to wherever you dictate, teasing himself as requested. "God, yeah— doing it just how you want me to, baby", he groans out, fingers wet with his saliva and clear pearls of precum that dew and spill copiously from his slit.

There was a time when his chest would grow tight with embarrassment, unsure how you'd react to the way he'd drip so many thick droplets from his slit all the way down his length and onto the dark hair that grew at his base.

He was relieved to find he needn't have worried, nearly overwhelmed by the way you took charge and hungrily lapped him clean. Steve couldn't help but feel so impressed by the way you savored his taste and worshipped his cock too, rewarding your busy mouth with plentiful spurts of cum as you sealed your lips around his tip and sucked down all he could give you. Even begging him for more as his spend dripped out the corner of your mouth and made its way onto your chin, never too shy to wear him on your skin.

But without you here to wrap your tongue and lips around his cock, his spit and precum trickle all the way down to his balls, made even messier when he reaches lower to cup and gently squeeze his heavy sack, enough to bring him some relief.

"...I'm going to start sliding my hands down to my pussy now... and I'm using two fingers to rub gentle circles above my clit... I think I can feel it swelling up...getting me so worked up just thinking about you rubbing your dick for me... I want you to reach down to the base of your cock with one hand- grip it lightly...I want you to stroke it for me... long, slow strokes... keep going... that's it... baby, don't stop stroking yourself for me"

Steve wants more — needs more but he's not about to stray from your instructions, purposely denying himself by keeping his touches languid and light despite his own hunger.

"Shit, you're such a bad girl for working me up like this...", he breathes into the dark, flashes of how he'd like to reprimand you popping up in his mind one by one — his hand around your neck while he thrusts into you, your knees raw from kneeling between his legs with his cock nudging the back of your throat, you pulled over his lap as he cracks his hand over your ass until you're sore. He fully intends to try every one of them when he comes back home to you.

"Ngh, my clit— it's so sensitive. I'm rubbing it slowly— it feels so good...but I miss having your fingers on me more...'m spreading my legs wider, reaching lower now so I can rub my fingers over my pussy lips... just teasing myself...please, tease yourself with me Steve- just swirl your fingertips over the tip of your cock but don't touch anything else, okay?...I want you to grip it a little harder for me and pretend you're pressing the head into my hole like I'm doing with my fingers— filling myself with just the tip."

"Mm, Jesus...fuck", he leans over to dribble more spit onto the head of his cock, imagining the way your wet heat would welcome his intrusion by wrapping around him tightly.

"-And I'm pulling them out again... this time I'm sliding them in a little further, just an inch or so...slide your hand down your cock just a little bit more and pull it back up again... slide your hand a little further down your dick for me, about halfway and give it soft strokes up and down the top half of your cock while I try to...while I try to fuck myself with my fingers-"

Even with the rain still coming down heavily Steve can hear the distinct sound of you touching yourself. He's completely tuned in to the sound of the sticky clicks coming from between your legs as he hears you pulling your folds apart, wishing he could see you bare your tight hole to him before you fill it with your fingers.

"Oh god! -it's so warm and soft inside Stevie...there's so much- 's so wet every time I pull them out...it's making my thighs all sticky...it's so filthy but I need to know how it tastes...my fingers are covered in it...so slippery and glossy...just have to- have to lick them clean...before I put them back inside...mm!"

The thought of you tasting yourself makes him feel dangerously close to cumming, eyes ready to roll back because you're enjoying how sweet you taste, making his thighs tense and quiver until the sound of you gasping out urgently has him slowing his pace.

"Stevie, baby, don't be mad...I know it feels good fucking your fist but I want you to stop what you're doing...take your hands away and I want you to just sit there for a minute while I pull my fingers back out too"

Steve whines, reluctantly pulling his hand away, watching his aching cock blushing bright pink and twitching on its own without his hand wrapped around it.

"God I want it so badly — I'm not even touching myself and I'm so close to cumming for you. Will you cum with me baby? please?"

"Yes — shit that's what I want", he whines again as if you can hear him, as if he can sway you when you hear the desperation in his voice as it slips past his lips.

"Okay, you can touch yourself again... I'm sliding my fingers in again too and I'm doing it all the way this time — shit... they're buried deep...take long slow strokes with me up to the tip and back down to the base, baby — oh fuck— and up to the tip again and back down to the base... I want you to do it faster and faster...this feels so good oh fuck, keep going Steve..."

It's a mess, both his mind and body.

Steve's cock and fist are covered in a wet, viscous layer as he begins to buck his hips up to meet his hand with every pump and stroke, his whole body dewy with a light sweat. He can't remember a time he's worked harder for an orgasm, every muscle flexing and contracting around his bones, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat all pulled taught.

"...I wish I could watch you stroking it for me...the way your fingers fit around your cock...even though they are bigger than mine, your cock still looks so thick in your grasp...gosh, Steve, I love knowing how hard my voice makes you...I love..mm!..I love knowing that you're getting off to the sound of me touching myself ...oh my god, speed up for me... speed up for me- I really want us to cum together... you think you can do that for me? Steve?... fuck yourself for me... do whatever you need to make yourself cum... play with your balls, jerk your shaft, rub the tip... I don't care. Just cum with me please-"

"I'm close, shit. I'm almost there pretty girl", he spits out, eyes screwed shut.

"Oh shit. 'so good.... oh please... please please - oh fu- right there! I'm cumming...!"

In that moment Steve's treated to the sweet sound of you giving into your release just a few seconds before his own, the sound of you inhaling sharply before you cry out and writhe enough to push him over the edge. His fist works himself vigorously, until he feels it shoot up his spine, throwing his head back when he spews thick lines of sticky white all over his fist and belly — some even managing to catch on the bottom of the steering wheel too.

"...oh god that was...that was...so good....Steve? The aftershocks keep rippling through my body, oh fuck...I really can't wait until you're back home with me...there's nothing like having the real thing..."

Even as his heads spins he hangs off every word you utter into the phone until the message cuts out not much long after, nothing but the sound of Steve's own haggard breathing ringing in his ears as he unsticks his hand from around his spent cock.

Chest heaving, hand all sticky, Steve rests his temple against the window as he did before, breath fogging up the glass as he wonders how best to go about cleaning up when suddenly he notices outside-

The rain's come to an end.

[justluxy]

Neighbor - (2/2)

Please go support the original writer https_Poki on wattpad!

Douma x Bottom Male Reader

Where Douma finally fucks his neighbor, you!

Warning: Smut, use of daddy, spanking, breeding

"Neighbor~"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

One of the things he had always wanted was to fuck his neighbor

Now what seemed to be an unattainable dream was becoming a reality, how much he had wanted that moment, every time he saw him pass by moving his hips in front of him shamelessly, how much he had had to hold back from going after him to squeeze that fat ass in his hands, that innocent look how many times he had wanted to break, small body that screamed for his cock, but now it was his and he would make sure not to let it go

Pinned against the wall, you moaned desperately, feeling his long, thick, and hard from your dreams bursting abruptly inside of you. You tried in vain to hold on, feeling your hands slip with each thrust that rammed into your abused hole. The man of your fantasies was now fucking you shamelessly

The white liquid slid down your legs, your aching body, your teary eyes, the thread of saliva running down the corner of your lips and face with a satisfied expression was a sign that you were enjoying it

That dildo you bought was nothing compared to a real cock

-AwH~! DOUMA~!

A symphony that filled the rainbow-eyed man's ears, a tune he would be willing to listen to all his life

He pulled out out of you, getting a frustrated sigh from you

-Don't get desperate, honey, we'll go somewhere more comfortable~ - he hum

He took you in his arms, carrying you to what he supposed was the student's room. You moved your hips hoping to feel that cock returned inside you, but you only got small touches that drove you to crazy. You whimpered in frustration

The blonde entered the room heading to the bed, he positioned you in the bed, took your legs, placing them on his shoulders, kneading the thighs between his hands, those plump thighs so soft to the touch against his skin, he left a path of kisses down the calf that caused you tickles, he continued his journey until he reached the thighs, he bit one of them, sinking his fangs into them, feeling the metallic taste of the blood that he tasted, listening to the small moan of his companion, he moved away, proudly observing the mark of his teeth, he planted a small kiss on the damaged area to leave another bite on the next one, he left hickeys that would let him know that you belonged to him, he continued until he reached your average-sized cock that caused him tenderness, releasing a small hum, he licked the pink tip, listening to the soft moan that prompted him to continue, he put it in his mouth, swallowing it with his tongue, your legscontracted, leaving his face imprisoned between the soft thighs, how many times had he wanted to be between your thighs, he continued with his work until he feels the salty liquid invading his taste buds

-Spread your legs for daddy honey~

Shamelessly, you separated your legs, holding them in your hands, giving him the view of your hole that was leaking his cum

-So obedient, you deserve a reward~

He took his hard cock and positioned the tip and entered slowly, further despairing his lover. He started with slow movements, gradually increasing his speed. He took you by the waist and lifted your body. Your gazes crossed and approached each other, joining your lips. Your soft lips moved inexperiencedly, not knowing what to do. You felt a strong thrust, releasing a moan and the blonde took advantage of the moment to let your tongues come together, seeking dominance. Your hips began to move, giving small bounces on the blond's cock.

You broke away from the kiss, your arms wrapping around your companion's neck

-Ah~ daddy~

Douma guided your hips, moving them as he pleased, increasing the pace of you uncoordinated movements. Admiring face and expression, he noticed a dildo behind you and let out a playful giggle, spanking your ass

-Oh~ honey you've surely been waiting for this moment~

You felt discovered, well at some point he had to know, he surely knew it for a long time with how obvious you were, embarrassed you hid your face in the blonde's neck hoping to get rid of the embarrassing moment, you felt another spank on your ass that made you let out a moan

-Get on all fours like the little slut you are

His playful tone turned serious, scaring you a little, you obeyed his order and got on all fours, restings your elbows on a pillow, curving your back so that your ass looked more voluminous than it already was

-AH~!

You moaned, the thick cock attacked you mercilessly, brushed your prostate again and again, the thrusts made the bed creak as the crash against the wall could be heard, the thrusts were almost at an inhuman rhythm, you held himself against the pillow biting it, your hair was taken lifting your face

-Don't hide your moans, I want the neighbors to hear you begging for me~

-ngh~ p-please~ Douma~... more~

Your strands were released, your trembling body did its best to stay elevated as you whimpered, you felt the knot in your stomach waiting to cum, the blonde's hand took your cock jerking it off, his thrusts became faster looking for his climax.

-ah~

You moaned in satisfaction, your cum staining the wrinkled sheets, feeling your insides filled again with the warm liquid. You let yourself fall, feeling his cum slide down your legs. Your eyes began to close from exhaustion, hoping to finally be able to sleep, but the hands on your hips interrupted your thoughts

-Who said this would end here, honey?~

[alwaysmicado]

hi i was just wondering if you could write a pregnant joel miller fanfic (where joel is pregnant) thank youuuuuu

two hearts, one bond

3.2k ♡ Joel Miller x f!reader

post-outbreak, established relationship, pregnancy Summary: Joel experiences sympathetic pregnancy. A/N: Sweet fluff with angst sprinkled on top. Thanks so much for your request, Anon! I hope this is to your liking even if Joel’s not physically carrying the baby. Enjoy and let me know what you think! Dividers by the wonderful @cafekitsune.

keep you warm ♡ Joel masterlist

Joel stands in front of the bathroom mirror, his reflection staring back at him. The towel around his hips barely conceals his nakedness as he scrutinizes his own body. He frowns, his fingers grazing over the small swell of his belly.

It’s nothing compared to yours, but to him, it feels like an unwelcome intrusion.

“Hey, sweetheart?” he calls out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You glance up from the book you’re reading in the living room, eyebrows raised attentively. “Yeah?”

Joel’s gaze remains fixed on his reflection as he hesitates before finally speaking. “Do I...do I look fat?”

Your brow furrows in surprise. Joel has never been one to fret over his appearance, especially not like this. “Fat? Joel, you’re not fat. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

He pokes his head out of the bathroom, his expression pleading for reassurance. “Are you sure? I feel like I’ve gained some weight lately.”

You set your book aside and waddle your way to the bathroom, your steps careful yet eager. Wrapping your arms around Joel from behind as far as your eight-month bump will allow, you nestle against him with a deep exhale.

You feel the warmth of his skin, the comforting rise and fall of his chest, and the soft hair that trails from his chest to his belly button.

The overwhelming intimacy of the moment floods you with gratitude. You are thankful for the love of your life, for the miracle of growing a child, and for the simple, profound gift of being alive to share this journey.

“Joel, you’re not gaining weight,” you murmur. “And even if you were, that would just mean you’re eating well, which is a good thing. Little one and I need you to be strong and healthy. Besides, I love every part of you, including this little belly of yours.”

He lets out a shaky sigh, leaning back into your embrace. “Thanks, darlin’. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I just...I feel off. Can’t sleep at night and my stomach’s been givin’ me trouble.”

You press a kiss to his shoulder, trying to ignore the ache in your own body as you hold him close. If you could, you’d absorb all the things that pain him in a heartbeat.

Since starting your journey together, you’ve tried your best to help Joel carry the heavy things that weigh him down, to shield him from the things that dull his shine, to mend his broken heart by loving him unconditionally and wholly.

To show him that there is light in darkness.

You’re convinced he’s your purpose in life. And now that you’re close to meeting the child you two have created, you’re more protective of him than ever before.

You love him. And you need him.

“Hmm, maybe you’re stressed because the baby’s coming soon?” you muse, running a hand through Joel’s hair, softly scratching his scalp. “I am too, believe me. Just existing is exhausting at this point. But hey, we’ve faced clickers, and infected, and raiders together. We’ve clawed our way out of so many hopeless situations that should have killed us, and now look at us. We made it. We’re safe. We can do baby. We can do anything if we stick together, hm?”

You’re saying this to him as much as you’re saying it to yourself. You’re very aware of the little changes in Joel’s behavior, you know he hasn’t been feeling well. And it’s stressing you out.

Joel’s tense shoulders relax under your touch, and he looks at your reflection in the mirror with a mixture of gratitude and adoration.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’,” he says softly. “And you’re so right. We’ve been through hell and back together. What’s one more challenge, huh?”

You smile, feeling a surge of affection for the man who’s shown you more love than you ever knew existed.

“Exactly. And just think, soon we’ll have a little bundle of joy to add to our adventures.”

Joel turns around and cups your face with his warm palms, pressing a lingering kiss to your soft lips. The sensation sends a delightful shiver down your spine, and feeling his smile warms your heart as it always does.

Yet, in his eyes, you catch a flicker of sadness as he pulls back to get dressed in the bedroom.

Sitting on the couch again, you watch him with growing concern as he grabs his rifle and backpack, puts on his thick winter coat, and promises you and your little one that he’ll be back before sunset.

He heads out, leaving you to your freshly brewed coffee and to your book, but you can’t shake the unease settling in your chest.

“It’s okay, little one,” you groan as your baby’s kicking you, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. “Your dad’s got a lot of responsibilities and that can be tiring and stressful, you know? But you don’t need to worry. Mommy’s looking after him. Just like she’ll always look after you.” 

You try to catch your breath, softly stroking your belly in the hopes it’ll calm the baby down. It works, sort of, and after a couple of minutes you feel strong enough to get up and get dressed.  

Anxious, you try to fill your day with chores and a few hours in the library, all the while reminding yourself that Joel wouldn’t keep secrets from you, that he’s healthy, that everything’s going to be okay. You repeat these reassurances like a mantra, but as the days pass, Joel’s unease only seems to grow. 

He becomes increasingly sensitive to smells, gagging at the slightest whiff of certain foods cooking in the kitchen. Some mornings, he’ll only drink his black coffee, refusing to eat a single bite of the breakfast you’ve lovingly prepared. He assures you it’s not about your cooking, but he can’t fully explain why he’s so turned off by foods he enjoyed just days ago.

You notice his restless nights too.

He isn’t sleeping, and you often find yourself awake, hearing him get up in the middle of the night to take a walk outside. He always tries to be quiet, believing he hasn’t woken you, but you lie there, listening to his footsteps fade into the darkness.

He usually returns after half an hour, slipping back into bed behind you, and attempting to find some semblance of peaceful sleep.

The most striking change, though, is in his mood. His calm, reassuring demeanor has been replaced by irritability and anxiety. Every little sound seems to set him off, and he jumps at the slightest touch.

You try your best to be patient, knowing that he’s going through a tough time, but it’s hard when your own patience is wearing thin.

“Can you please pass me the salt?” you ask one morning, reaching across the table during breakfast.

Joel flinches as if your voice startled him, nearly knocking over his coffee mug in the process. “Sorry,” he mutters, handing you the salt with shaky hands.

You sigh inwardly, trying to keep your frustration in check. “It’s okay. Just...try to relax, alright?”

He nods, but you can tell he’s still on edge. As the morning wears on, his sensitivity only seems to increase. He jumps at the sound of a door closing, flinches when you accidentally brush against him, and seems on the verge of tears at the slightest provocation.

Finally, you reach your breaking point.

“Joel, could you please stop being so jumpy? You’re acting like a nervous wreck, and it’s driving me fucking crazy!”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you immediately regret them when you see the hurt look on Joel’s face. His eyes well up with tears, and he sniffles, his lower lip trembling.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he chokes out, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry, I’m so–”

You rush to his side, wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

“Oh, Joel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” you look into his wet eyes and pull him even closer to you. “I’m just so worried about you. It scares me and I feel helpless when you don’t feel well.”

He buries his face in your shoulder, his tears soaking into your shirt. “I don’t understand what’s goin’ on with me. It’s like...I can’t control it, you know?”

You stroke his back soothingly, trying to offer whatever comfort you can.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here,” you coo, holding him close. “It’s probably just the stress of everything going on. You’ve been so busy these past few months, helping out with patrols and construction so much. Plus, I’m close to giving birth and, as wonderful as that is, it’s scary as hell. I get it. But Joel? We’ll get through this together, alright?”

He nods against your shoulder, his grip on you tightening. “I know, darlin’. Thank you.”

Later that night, lying in bed together, Joel’s hand drapes protectively over you, feeling the baby’s gentle movements.

For the first time in over two weeks, he falls asleep and stays asleep through the night. The steady rhythm of his breathing eases your frayed nerves, giving you hope that he just needed to release all that pent-up emotion and that crying it all out helped him.

But, despite his mood improving a little over the next three days, his physical state seems to worsen. You try your best to support him through it all, but it’s clear that something is genuinely wrong.

One evening, as you curl up together on the couch, watching the flickering flames of the fireplace, Joel’s stomach churns audibly. He pales and clutches his abdomen, then suddenly bolts upright, rushing to the bathroom. You follow close behind, worry etching deeper lines into your face as you hear him retching, barely making it in time before throwing up his dinner for the third night in a row.

“That’s it,” you declare, determination and concern in your voice, as you rub his back and hand him a damp cloth to wipe his face. “You’re going to the doctor tomorrow.”

Joel protests weakly, his voice strained. “I’ll be fine, darlin’. I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Joel,” you reply firmly, your eyes searching his for understanding. “You’ve been feeling off for weeks now and I can’t stand to see you suffer like this anymore. We need to find out what’s going on. Not only for your sake but also for mine and the baby’s.”

Joel looks at you, his eyes softening at the mention of your child. He nods resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

“Alright. I’ll go.”

As Joel heads out to his doctor’s appointment alone—you couldn’t join him since you’re experiencing horrible back pain—you’re left lying in bed, your mind consumed with worry. Every worst-case scenario plays out in your head, and you can’t shake the feeling of dread gnawing at your insides.

What if something is seriously wrong with Joel? What if he’s sick? What if, no matter what you do, no matter how much you love him, that just isn’t enough? What if…what if you can’t protect him this time?

It’s the same intrusive thoughts you’ve been having since falling in love with him all this time ago, but now that he’s shown actual symptoms of some sort of illness, you’re scared to death.

Your own discomfort from the pregnancy seems magnified as you lie there, feeling helpless and alone. Tears stream down your cheeks as you reach a hand to gently caress your swollen belly, whispering words of reassurance to the tiny life growing inside you.

“It’s okay, little one. Daddy will be back soon. We just have to be strong,” you murmur, though the anxiety in your voice betrays your attempt at calm.

You know your baby can feel your stress, and that knowledge only heightens your anxiety. Your heart races, and you struggle to breathe evenly. The minutes stretch on endlessly, each one an eternity as you wait for Joel to return. 

Finally, you hear the front door open, and your heart leaps into your throat as you strain to listen for any sign of his footsteps. You try to judge by his gait and the pace with which he takes off his coat and boots how bad the news is going to be, but you can barely hear anything over the loud thumping of your heartbeat and the rushing of blood in your ears.

Joel finds you sitting up in bed, his expression one you can’t read.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, crossing the room to sit beside you. His face falls when he sees your tears and how scared you look, and immediately lifts his hands to caress your cheeks. 

“Oh, darlin’, I–”

“Please just tell me,” you blurt out, feeling like your heart is going to explode if you have to wait even one second longer. “I can take it, I promise. What did the doctor say?”

“Well,” Joel starts, taking your trembling hands in his, his voice slightly sheepish as he looks into your swollen eyes. “The doctor said that I, uh–he said I have Couvade syndrome.”

Oh no. No, no, no. That doesn’t sound good. Couvade syndrome? You’ve never heard of it.

“What’s that? Is it dangerous? What can we do to—can it be cured?” Panic seeps into your voice as you clutch Joel’s arm.

“Darlin’, calm down,” he says, leading your hands back into the safety of his own. “There is a cure.”

“Okay, what is it? You need to take medication? Have surgery? What is it?”

“There’s no need for medication or surgery,” Joel assures you, softly squeezing your hands. “And, uh,” he clears his throat, “I’ll apparently be perfectly healthy again in about a month, more or less, dependin’ on when our little one decides to meet us.” 

A small smile creeps onto Joel’s lips as he speaks, but you furrow your brow in confusion. His hands move to your bump, caressing it gently.

Your mind races, connecting the dots of Joel’s recent symptoms—throwing up, food aversion, sensitivity, complaints about his belly, and sleep troubles.

Then it hits you.

“Are you kidding me?” you whisper in disbelief.

“No, darlin’, I’m not,” Joel chuckles, watching the fear in your eyes morph into a mix of outrage and bewilderment.

“It’s called sympathetic pregnancy. It means my body’s been mimickin’ your pregnancy symptoms. The nausea, the fatigue, even the weight gain. The doc said it’s rare but harmless. I’m not sick, darlin’. I’m just goin’ through this with you.”

You’re still staring at him, mouth agape, slowly shaking your head. “Sympathetic pregnancy? You mean...you’ve been feeling sick because I’m pregnant?”

Joel nods. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Relief washes over you, but the absurdity of the situation also hits you, and you can’t help but laugh through a new set of tears.

“What the hell, Joel? I thought I was going to lose you, and now you’re telling me this was all psychosomatic? I can’t believe it. You were so sick, and I–huh?”

Joel chuckles and pulls you into a tight hug, drawing soothing circles on your aching back. You relax in his arms, and for the first time in weeks, feel like you can breathe freely again.

“When I said I’d be with you forever and stand by you through it all, my body must’ve heard that and decided to make me feel what you’re experiencin’ with this pregnancy.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. “All this moping around was that?”

“Hey, that mornin’ sickness is no joke, I actually felt like I was dyin’.”

Eyebrows raised, you pull back to look at him with an expression that says, “Seriously? You’re telling me about morning sickness?”

Joel can read your thoughts and he grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“This isn’t a competition, darlin’. Who’s to say who’s pregnancy has been harder or who’s been feelin’ worse–”

He doesn’t get any further before you’re pulling him into a hug again, effectively shutting him up.

“I was so scared, Joel,” you whisper, digging your fingers into his back. “I was so scared I’d lose you.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He softly strokes the back of your head. “But you’re not gettin' rid of me that easily. I made a vow to you and our child, and I intend to keep it.”

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur. “My big baby.”

The morning sun filters through the curtains as you shuffle into the kitchen, feeling like you’ve barely slept a wink. Joel is already there, slouched over the table, a look of utter exhaustion on his face.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you tease, crossing the kitchen to sit on his lap. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he mumbles with a tired smile, happily wrapping his arms around you, and capturing your lips in a kiss that leaves you even more breathless than you already were.

“Someone’s feeling better,” you murmur, gently nudging his nose with yours.

“Much better,” he nods, his eyes crinkling with affection. “I still didn’t sleep too much last night, but just havin’ a diagnosis helps a lot. Now we just have to wait for our little one to arrive, and I’ll be good as new.” He kisses the tip of your nose, his gaze filled with adoration.

“How about we cook some bacon and eggs, hm?” you suggest, and Joel’s eyes light up. He’s incredibly hungry.

As you work together in the kitchen, Joel occasionally has to take breaks to sit down, claiming his ‘pregnancy fatigue’ is kicking in and that his ‘feet hurt’. You roll your eyes fondly, knowing he’s milking his this for all it’s worth.

After a filling breakfast, you both settle on the couch, cuddled up together in your favorite little love blanket. 

“I’m so happy you’ve been eating better,” you murmur, tracing circles on his arm. “I need you, you know?”

As the baby kicks inside you, you place Joel’s hand on your belly, feeling the life you’ve created together.

“I still can’t believe we’re going to have a child,” he whispers, his voice filled with emotion.

You lean your head against his shoulder, overwhelmed with love for him. “I know, it’s pretty incredible. And hey, if you survive these pregnancy symptoms, I know you’ll be the best dad.”

He chuckles softly, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I sure hope so. But seriously, darlin’, you’re incredible. I don’t know how you’re handlin’ all of this with such grace.”

You give him a playful nudge. “Well, I have a great partner to help me through it. Even if he does complain about his swollen feet more than I do.”

Joel grins sheepishly, pulling you closer. “I’ll try to tone it down a bit. For you.”

Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts & if you have any ideas for future fics. I love hearing from you!

keep you warm ♡ Joel masterlist ♡ AO3