#its not like. burping or something its just like a growl that it does and it happens every like 2 seconds
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WHY IS IT 3AM AND I CANT SLEEP!!! my throars doing its dMn thang (growling)
#i dont know what it is it does this constantly i am so so so sick of jt#its not like. burping or something its just like a growl that it does and it happens every like 2 seconds#and its so annoying
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Extreme Fizz
As Tanner sat in his room working on his computer in some homework, he heard the front door slams, sighing at the thought of knowing who it was, seconds later his older brother, Jake, your typical and generic dumb jock with a sweaty tank top and shorts one could easy imagine, burst in with a mischievous grin on his face.
"Hey lil bro, I got something for you" Jake said, in his ussual deep voice tone, tossing a can of soda onto Tanner's desk.
Tanner looked up from his computer at him, then at the can, suspiciously "What is this?"
"It's a new soda brand I found at the store! you remember say you needed something to stay focused when you stayed till late doing your final semester proyect?, Thought it might help you with your nerd stuff" Jake replied putting the can closer to him.
Tanner raises an eyebrow, examinating the drink in his hands "Extreme Fizz? I certainly never heard of this brand before... but if it does what it claims, Thanks, Jake" He responded.
Jake just patted Tanner on the back. "No problem, lil bro, that's what brothers do! just remember who helped you to become even smarter" he mentioned letting out a dumb chuckle.
"Yeah right" Tanner said with a bit of sarcasm, finding funny what his airhead of a brother just said. Without thinking too much, he decided to open the can and took a big gulp of the fizzy drink "It if works and i get to finish this project sooner i'll owe you one, you big oaf" He said jokingly with a small laugh to Jake.
Almost immediately, a really strong and bubbly taste filled his taste buds , then he felt a strange sensation coursing through his body. A gurgle announced from his gut, causing him to suddenly let out a small burp, feeling a little embarrassed "BUuUrp!!...Gosh, Excuse me"
Jake chuckled again "Looks like it's working already, lil bro!, Keep chugging that stuff down, some gas is just normal"
Tanner hesitated for a moment and processed the situation, it was just rare how quickly it gave him gas, blaming it on probably how much he chugged at once, He continued to drink, Soon he could feel the fizz invading all his guts and stomach, his mind woking up and working at fast speed, He was in awe with the effects
But as Tanner continued to drink, he started to notice something else, his gut experimenting side effects too.
His stomach began to gurgle louder, then louder again, and felt a huge pressure building up inside him, before he lets out a fart that erupted from his ass.
"PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRTTT!!!"
Sounding pretty bassy and loud for his usuals, his embarrasment increasing only more.
"What in the hell did that drink had to cause such amount of-UUUUURRRRP!!!-Gas!"
UUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPP!!!!
He cried out to the jock, who seemed to enjoy this with a big smile.
"Just ignore that, bro It's a side effect of the soda, Keep drinking," Jake said, urging Tanner to keep consuming the gassy drink.
Tanner felt torture with this, but for some reason now he couldn't stop drinking, the flavor in each gulp just tasted better and better, till the nerd got addicted, He continued to chug the soda, even as he felt his body changing in ways he couldn't explain.
"What's happening to me?!" Tanner yelled terrified, seeing his new body in the mirror.
Jake gave another dumb giggle and grinned wickedly. "Looks like the soda is doing its job, lil bro, You'll become a real man, a jock, just like me, now why dont you belch a bit more? Jocks always love to burp to show off how manly they are" He requested.
As if he was in a kind of trance, he felt a growl in his stomach again "You wont hear me doin such-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRP!!" the gas slipped out of his mouth with ease, and the contaminated air seemed to affect his thougts too, not much later he found himself letting a deep and dumb laugh out, just like Jake.
Tanner continued drinking, savouring the liquid with exitement, unaware of his actions from now on, with his tongue out like a dog and eyes crossed that made him look like a fool, He felt the urge to let out some more gas trapped in, rubbing his belly, he simply lifted up a leg and proceeded to let loose.
PPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRTTT!!!
BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPP!!
"BROO it was a comboo hahaha" He dumbly said before flexing with an arm and scratching an itch he had in his butt with the other hand.
The room filled with the manly simphony of his man gas, He could feel himself becoming more brute, gross, and dumb, losing his once cherised intelligence and devolving to have an IQ no higher than an ape.
Feeling his mind slipping away as he transformed into a mindless jock, Jake putted an arm around his neck patting his back "Ain't it feel better bro? Just relax and let the gas rip like the dumb jock you-UUUUUUUUURRRP!!-are" He said before letting out a bassy belch in Tanner's face and giggle like an idiot.
"Dude i feel full and bloated" Tanner complained, but then he simply made a signal of 'wait' with his finger, and lifted his leg.
PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRTTTTT!!
Jake fanned the fart smirking "No more nerdy school projects for you, Now you can join me on the gym with me and the boys and show off your new muscles bro" He spanked his bro's meaty ass, walking out the room to work out together.
Leaving the now athlete boy's room, He was now nothing more than a burping, farting gross beast, just like Jake, ready to let a big one rip like a real man should, and have a good time with his bro.
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ROTE: my incoherent rambles
whenever Burpy is ghouled/gooned/sick in the show, Eli is SO. DISTRAUGHT. or at least happy when Burpy is freed. Like, pets their head, says "hi", smiles to them, quipps a joke; something to show Burp that their human is very happy they're back.
I watched the will shane gets cured scene again, and I forgot that Burpy is also ghouled there; the shot that saved his dad also freed Burpy. And does Eli retrieve Burpy, like he usually does?
No. He immediately thinks the worst, walking up to his dad on the ground. Burpy doesn't even cross his mind. And Burpy's chill with it, hopping to will shane just like Eli did. After all, Burpy and Eli only really bonded after Will's disappearance; he obviously knows how much the man means to his son.
Its a great way to subtly hit the viewer with how big and tragic it all is. Imagine watching lightwell and ROTE back to back? Eli nearly sacrifices himself for Burpy a million times, and would again and again and again. But then his dad returns, and the fabric of time (and our understanding of the lore) changes dramatically.
So much so that, in the chaos, Eli touch-Burpy-and-I-will-kill-you Shane has bigger fish to fry that Burpy being back. Its startling to watch. It's something so small, but so impactful. It's even made more clear when Jun - who we learn in slug-fu showdown demands more time from his slugs to trust them - warmly greets Joo-Joo again, and thats the only time we ever really see that from him. and even will says "hello, old friend." and after that? Burpy isn't even ANIMATED, OR ON SCREEN for the last 5 minutes. Like Burpy isn't a main feature of the battle. thats BIZZARE. until...the promise to save his dad. Burpy retook Eli's shoulder, right next to doc.
When else do we see Eli not go above and beyond for his slugs? When others show more care for their team than he does? Never, actually.
It was just there, when he realized he still had a dad, and needed to speak to him first. He's in full "omg dad's here and alive" mode. Of course he is; but a lesser show would have had him reunite with burpy. The end of ROTE is a very harrowing slugterra watch, and its little details like this that made it so poignant. Eli's slugs took the backseat to his dad, on screen and as a part of the narrative itself, till Eli needed them again when he lost his dad for deeply sorrowful second time.
If you ever rewatch this show, keep a very close eye on burpy. What they're doing, how they react to events. Knowing the little guys been around for thousands of years and probably knows all the shane secrets makes all the little emotions fascinating. one of the best things I noticed was when Will saved eli on the ground with burpy; Burpy was growling at blakk while being shot. We havent seen him growl like that since....eli first met Dr Blakk in episode 1 of the entire show. I now see that shot as Burpy's true revenge, for that moment 5 years ago; Will got to shoot Burpy and land a hit with them on the monster who sent him to the deep caverns. Justice at last, for both of them...till, you know.
I'll leave off with one more note: in the show, especially pre-movies, Eli looks to burpy for advice constantly. It's never pointed out, but Eli always checks in: "do i tell them this?" "Is this the right move", etc. When the five of them promise, he didn't have to check. Either he didn't need a second opinion - he knew what his mission was - and/or he already assumed burpy was in agreement. I don't know if eli "grows up" during the slugterra timeline - its only a year - but he does gain more confidence in himself. And thats not him getting over past trauma or not feeling guilty over things anymore - thats on him becoming more accustomed to looking ahead instead of behind him. Like what jun said to pull him back.
If you catch me on ao3, I'm fascinated with the shows absolute hatred toward backstories. I think that's convenient for the writers, duh, but I also interperet it as a mirroring of the shane gang's attitude towards their pasts. They need to go forward, yes, but they also desperately want to move on, to make the past not matter anymore. If they were to make any actual good slugterra content again, I would like them to keep making ROTE-like stories; not even necessarily giving us complete backstories (we didn't even get that with Blakk), but having our characters contend with past events. his dad, of course, but also: Twist. dana. tom por. the goon. eli's mom. any and all lore about pronto, kord, and trixie. Any of these things returning would fit well in any plot they come up with, and continue making slugterra's fight with good and evil more and more personal to the characters. that's what slugterra exceeds at - having a plot's lore tie juuuuuuust slightly to broader slugterra history/culture and making these characters learn and face it together. If you want to make a better future, the past must be resolved.
and I think eli finally realized that at the end of ROTE, even if he spends the rest of the running show letting other missions distract him from that painful reality.
also we can be saved ch 2 is in production and i have monday off, and legend says that if you comment on my other stories my depression will lesson and i can actually produce content again thanks yall i love this fandom :)
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Kidnapping The Grunk
In 2018, I was 17. I wrote a Gravity Falls/Rick and Morty crossover fic called "Kiddnapping The Grunk". I'm 23 now, and I was looking at my ao3 account, and I saw it. So, I decided to rewrite the fic. The original person who wanted me to write the fic no longer exists on Tumblr. But here's the new version in its entirety.
Stan’s eyes opened up into complete darkness. He started to move but found his limbs stiff and wrapped in something. He was stuck and started thrashing around. He’d gotten it into his head that he was twisted up in his bedsheets again and started screaming.
“Oh god! Soos! Get the jaws of life! Get some snips or somethin’! I’m stuck!” he shouted.
“Nobody’s gonna help you out here, ole man,” said a strange voice from the dark.
“Who’s that?” said Stan. His tone was not so much panicked but annoyed. “Robbie Valentino, this better not be some stupid prank. I’m not playing around with you and Wendy’s games anymore!”
A new voice chimed in, making robotic tutting, “Nah, you don’t get it do ya?” We’re holding your ass for ransom.”
“Ransom?” said Stan. He considered the thought for a moment. “If you cut me in on this, I can get my brother to fork over some more cash. I know he’s good for it.”
“Shut the fuck up!” shouted the first voice. “If your scrawny boy toy doesn’t deliver the Smidgens we want, we’re going to slit your Cromdamned throat!”
“Boy toy? What the heck are you talking about?” he asked and received a smack across the face for it.
Everyone who surrounded him began to laugh as Stan’s head spun.
“Don’t play dumb,” he said. “You were rolling heavy with Rick Sanchez in this part of the galaxy for ten years. Suppose your spastic lust pet doesn’t show up; we’re going to cut your head off and bury you somewhere like a vampire.”
“Who?” asked Stan.
---
A large green portal opened up into a land covered in prone grease grease-slicked grandmothers. Two aged scientists stepped out and into the town. The residents of the town looked at them with fascination. Stanford Pines looked down at his tracker pad, which pinged with a map of this area and the little tracker.
“I cannot believe that my brother has gotten wrapped up in your nonsense, Sanchez,” he said.
“Better believe it,” said Rick Sanchez, punctuating his brief statement with a burp.
“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you myself. What are they? Flansians? Predators? The Tall Whites?” asked Stanford, rapidly firing his questions at Rick.
“Beats the hell out of me,” said Rick. “If they’re after me through, Stan I’ll take care of them. Don’t worry your prissy little head about it.”
Rick reached over and started tussling Stanford’s hair drunkenly, only for Ford to take his hand away. “None of that!”
“You can’t still be angry because I didn’t call you after our night of passion in the Hamburger Fields,” he said. Dismissing him.
“I can be, and I am!” he shouted.
“Oh blah, blah, blah! BLIGHITY BLAH!” shouted Rick. “Stan’s a better man than you anyways. He knows how to make a man feel appreciated. Y’know?”
Rick then feigned ecstatic moans, “Ohh Stanley, yeah, yeah, yeah, right therreee!”
“That’s lewd,” growled Stanford. His face flushed a deep red.
“You would know,” said Rick. “I recall you getting very into me sucking on your fingers.”
“Nope,” Stanford walked forward. Stomping as he went. “Not listening. Just help me find my brother.”
Rick made a dismissive noise. “Bleh…fine….So, does he ever talk about me?”
“Hmm?” began Stanford. “No, never.”
“C’mon, i’m being serious right now. He must, right?’ asked Rick.
“Nope. Up until we got the note, I didn’t even know you two were acquainted,” said Stanford.
“What? We spent nearly a decade together, fucking and savaging around the country,” said Rick. “He must remember me.”
“Well,” said Ford apprehensively. “There’s a chance that he genuinely doesn’t remember.”
“Oh god, has he been hit with Alzheimer's?” said Rick, feeling his age.
“The truth is more…odd,” Said Ford. “Do you remember when i talked about Weirdmageddon?”
“Dumb name, yes.”
“Ignoring that…To destroy Bill, Stanley allowed him to invade his mind…Then we erased it,” said Ford.
“You sick son of a bitch!” growled Rick.
“Oh, grow the hell up, Sanchez. I heard about how you regularly erase your grandson’s memories over minor mistakes on your end,” said Ford.
“How did you hear about that?” asked Rick.
“Summer and Wendy are friends on Tumblr,” said Ford.
“Goddamn, Summer,” whispered Rick under his breath. But then Rick smiled, “Hot Damn, Fordy baby, you’ve just given me a chance at this bullshit thing called love!”
Rick pushed Ford over, and the old man fell on his ass. They opened up a portal that entered them into a dimension filled with bright blue slime bags, and they bounced off of them, weaving between each other as they fell. Rick blessed another portal into the wall of the dimension and it led into the back room of a bar.
Surrounding Stan’s tied-up form were impossibly tall robots and short dwarven aliens with big fly eyes. They all pulled their guns and started firing at the pair. They ducked behind pillars and exchanged looks. Ford looked ready to kill Rick.
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!” he shouted.
“Relax,” Rick stepped in front of the scene.
His body was quickly riddled with plasma fire. The bolts of liquid energy passed through his scrawny form like butter, but he kept stepping forward. The aliens screamed at him in their native tongues—horrid insect chirping. Rick’s left arm unfolded, forming a kind of gun made of green semi-metal and flesh. The flesh gun sprayed the aliens with a horrible mist that caused their skin to erupt in horrible sizzling boils and caused the metal skin of the robots to erode rapidly.
“Come to me, everybody!” he shouted. “Look at me go! Your gods might not be real, but I’m sending you to him all the same!”
Ford stood behind the pillar, picking off stragglers with his pistol and resenting every word that fell out of Rick Sanchez’ stupid head. He didn’t have to do all of this. They could have just killed them; they didn’t have to cook alive inside their bodies.
Once this mad violence was over, Stanford dashed over to Stanley and tore the bag off his head; his brother winced at the light.
“It’s okay, Stanley, you’re going to be alright,” said Ford as he began to undo the binds.
Rick turned and flashed Stanley a look. He thought it was sexy, with is hip cocked to the side and the bulge in his pants prominently displayed.
“Hey, hot stuff,” said Rick. “I’m Rick Sanchez, and I’m the rescue committee.”
“Yeah,” said Stan. “I know who you are.”
Suddenly, Rick froze. Shit, he remembers all the scumbag shit I did.
Once up, Stan strode across the room and pushed Rick up against the wall, forcing his tongue into his mouth and dry-humping him against the wall. Ford stood by, irritated that it built up to this. He turned his head so he didn’t have to see the image of the two.
“You scrawny son of a bitch,” said Stan. “You made me remember that I missed you.”
#fanfiction#stanchez#stan pines#stanford pines#rick sanchez#rick and morty#pocket mortys#post gravity falls#spanish pines
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Could you write something about that jimin vlive?
god, YES. this vlive really was (and is) my kriptonite, let me just get this bread ! (🔥ㅈ🔥)
also, sorry in advice, it's a bit messy since i just let the horny flow so,, yeah 👉👈
[ https://www.vlive.tv/video/182555 ]
[ !!burp kink / vm¡n ft seokj¡n ]
jm told him very clearly that he couldn't eat again, for his health. yet after wrapping up the vlive and taking some time to ease the satisfying fullness of his belly, another order of food knocks his door.
he's a little backed up when he sees the delivery man's hand him the exact same order, if not a little more, with a smile. the order is already paid, the delivery man says, and then goes from where he came leaving the heavy smell of fried kimchi rice and pork with jm.
wandering inside the plastic bags he finds a sticky note:
"you can always eat more, j¡min-ah ! don't resist, my treat.
best hyung sj"
this brat... jm breaks the note and curses, he wanted to go home and lie down. but now... his tummy growls at the food in front of him and he can't resist taking them out. he can always work out, for sure jk will love some company at the gym tomorrow.
he sets the phone again, emulating like he's back to an hour ago and the live actually hasn't happened yet. it's a bit pitiful and there is no need when he is all alone in the room, but he has to trick his brain a little as his tummy eagerly calls for the revealed plates.
they have a meeting set in less than an hour so jm doesn't have any time to waste. maybe the bites are too big, maybe the tempo is too fast, he can't seem to stop anyway when it tastes so good. it's even the exact menu he just ate.
he now drinks between bites, taking breaks from the suspicious light spicy taste. when the live was on he really tried not to burp and failed a few times, having to hide from the camera and stifle silent burps in the meantime.
jm starts feeling pressure on his stomach and stops. why is he so out of breath? he rubs his tummy, noticing how it bulges from his pants. the belt hugs his middle too tightly and undoing it sounds really relieving right now.
so he does just that, finding some trouble as the gas tries to make its way out. the next breath he takes turns out to be a deep belch and he blushes from how shameless he looks, but forces more burps on the way while pressing on his gut.
the belt is finally undone and he groans at the amount of room he has now. he resists untucking his tshirt, enjoying the way his bloated belly looks.
he scrolls through weverse while eating the extra servings sj added and finds himself whining when his spoon can't find anything more than grains of rice and plastic.
his stomach growls, either from fullness or disappointment yet he drinks the remaining bottle in an attempt to wash the spicy flavour from his mouth.
jm leans back, cleaning his greasy mouth and chin with the back of his hand. it does nothing as it is equally dirty with sauce and his clothes doesn't seem to be in a better condition.
"so messy, j¡minnie" he lazily scolds himself and cleanses the stains on his tshirt and jacket with a wet tissue, same as his face and hands.
maybe is the force of his attempt to get rid of the annoying stain or the amount of food he ate in less than an hour, but he swears the shirt fit just fine when he dressed up for work. he pushes it down and hides the exposed skin but makes his belly button mark on the thin cloth.
so much movement wasn't a good idea as he whines sitting back on the chair. he rubs circles again on his tummy, his pinky caresses the exposed skin everytime the tshirt rides up just enough and it's so warm.
he's still gassy but he feels too tired to let it out and he groans at the pain, eyes closed and hands never leaving his overstuffed midsection.
th must have seen the light was on on his way to the meeting room, and knocks lightly at the door.
"j¡min-ssi? i'm sk telecom. we are going to seize your phone in order to pay for your monthly bill."
a whimper leaves jm in response and th can't help but open the door, worriedly reaching for jm.
"j¡min are you ok– holly shit." he burst at the sight in front of him.
the trashcan full of containers and more on the desk that couldn't fit in. the culprit? the bloated mochi with spicy breath and tummy ache.
"can you help me get up, tæhyungie?" jm pleads with grabby hands. his cheeks are rounded and flushed pink and th just wants to cuddle him.
th coos. "ate too much?" jm nods with guilt and a little pout. "want me to help you first?"
"*hic* yeah..."
th sits in the other chair and gets close to him, cupping the older's hands in order to ask him for permission to touch.
jm burps under his breath with a simple rub and th takes that in mind. "are you gassy?"
he covers his mouth in embarrassment, "i'm so sorry"
"sshh. just do what you need to do to feel better. let it all out," th encourages him right before undoing the button of his pants too.
with one hand on jm's cheek and the other on his gut, th rubs a bit harder, gaining a grunt that trailed in the loudest belch of his life.
it's nothing too loud compared to some of the members or th himself, but it is compared to how jm usually burps and it surprises them both. jm hides his face in th's hand while the latter giggles.
"'m sorry, tæhyungie this is so embarrassing," he mumbles and groans through the little bubbles that th keeps finding. contradicting his words he rests his hand on top of th's, allowing him to add a little more of pressure.
the door unlocks revealing a tall figure to which th almost jolts his hand off jm if they weren't glued together.
jm turns his chair to look, and with the sound of his undone belt hitting the armrest he feels exposed.
"i knew you could eat one more meal," sj says with a smirk, leaning on the door frame.
"ugh.. shut u-UUURPP ".
sj leaves with an evil squeaky laugh and the two soulmates continue with their task, maybe too conscious now to talk.
when the pain and bliss are gone, and jm gets to button his pants without restraints, they walk to the meeting room with the others. okay, jm is a little groggy still and th can't stop staring at him from the other side of the table.
on his ride home after his shift, th sends him a text.
"i know you love food,, but next time you feel stuffed just call me and i'll help! my room is always unlocked for you if you need belly rubs j¡minnie >ㅁ<"
jm rubs his belly, and thinks. maybe helping himself with dinner doesn't sound that bad.
// the end //
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This Woman's Work Part IX (Alcina x Female Reader Fanfic)
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII
“You’re almost there, Maman. You’re doing great. Just a couple more steps.”
You take a deep breath in through your nose and blow it out through your mouth and push forward at your daughter’s coaxing, your arms gripping the railing that had been set up in your bedroom. The wound in your side is in agony but you take another step, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep from crying out in pain.
It has been three weeks since that horrible night. You had already lost a lot of blood by the time Karl and Alcina arrived at Donna’s place. In an incredible stroke of luck, Donna had surgical thread in her sewing kit and at Salvatore’s instructions (he was having one of his good days) sewed up the place where Alcina’s claws had torn through. You were in and out of consciousness, but every time you opened your eyes Alcina was there by your side holding your hand.
Alcina is sitting nearby in her chair now, gently burping Ecaterina after her feeding. She looks up at you and you see concern in her golden eyes and another emotion that has been a mainstay for the past couple weeks: guilt.
Things had been...awkward between the two of you since that night. No matter how many times you assured her that all was well and you had forgiven her, she refused to forgive herself. You had only been intimate one time since that night and it ended quickly after Alcina had forgotten about the wound in your side as she cupped your hip and you couldn’t hold back the scream of pain that came out of your mouth. Alcina had immediately gotten out of the bed and as far away from you as she could, as if afraid touching you would cause any more damage.
She had sunk into the chair and began sobbing brokenly. You had wished to go to her, but your Bath chair was already on the other side of the room. You braced yourself against one of the bedposts as you said gently, “Darling, it was an accident. The pain’s already subsiding. Please come back to bed.”
Alcina covered her face with her hands, but you could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t even make love to my wife without causing her pain. What kind of wife does that make me?” The raw self-hatred in her voice broke your heart.
From that point on whenever you had settled down for the night, Alcina kissed your forehead and turned out the light and that was the end of it. She kept to her own side of the bed and you greatly missed the feeling of her muscular arms about you with your shoulder tucked under her chin, her curls kissing your cheekbones.You had the sense that if you tried to move closer she would move away so you didn’t even try.
You try to take another step and suddenly the room spins around you and you fall forward. Daniela, however, quickly grabs your arm and puts her arm around your shoulder before you hit the ground.
“I think that should be enough for today, Maman,” Bela says soothingly.
You set your jaw. You only have three more steps to go before you clear the railing. “No, girls, I can keep going.” But your ragged breathing and forehead shining with sweat give you away. You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek and taste coppery blood from where you had bitten into it.
Cassandra rolls your Bath chair over to you. “Maman, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. You’re not gonna be of any use to Ecaterina if you run yourself ragged.”
You smile at Cassandra’s brutal honesty as she helps you into your Bath chair. “You’re right, dearest.”
Alcina stands up, having finished burping Ecaterina. She looks affectionately over at her daughters taking care of you and you see one of the first genuine smiles from her that you’ve seen in weeks. “You’ve been so good to Maman these past few weeks, dears. She and I really appreciate all the help you’ve given to us and Ecaterina.” She rests the hand not holding Ecaterina on the back of your chair and you take her hand in yours, kissing her knuckles. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away this time. “It’s time for us to put Ecaterina down for her nap and for me to change Maman’s bandages. If you’ll excuse us, loves.”
The girls nod in agreement and vanish into their bug shrouds. Alcina turns around and settles Ecaterina into her cradle. Ecaterina gurgles, her eyes mirroring the gold in Alcina’s. Alcina gives her a tender kiss on the forehead before turning to you. She motions for you to stand up and you obey as she kneels down to your level and helps you take off your day dress. Standing there in your slip with her hands on you reminds you of how long it has been since you have last felt her touch.
Alcina lifts up your slip ever so lightly and peels off the gauze bandage wrapped around your waist. Alcina sets her jaw as she uncovers the gashes she herself had inflicted on you. She takes off her gloves, dips the pad of her thumb in a jar of salve and applies it to your wounds. There is an unreadable expression on her face.
You try to give her an encouraging smile. “I talked to Sal the other day,” you posit. “He says that even though the wound is deep,if I don’t expose it to too much sunlight it won’t leave a scar!”
“Not a physical one at least,” Alcina mutters.
Ok. You’ve had enough. You turn her head to face you. “Darling, we’ve been over this,” you say, rubbing her cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “Are you going to keep punishing yourself forever?”
Almost despite herself, Alcina leans into your touch and interlaces her large fingers with yours. “I can’t imagine how much physical pain you must be in, my love,” Alcina whispers. “And all by my hand.” Tears begin forming in Alcina’s aureate eyes. “I nearly killed you.”
“You didn’t though, Alcina!” You move over to her lap and she gently almost tentatively wraps her arms around you and holds you close. You lean your head against her chest and resist the urge to sigh. It’s been so long since you’ve been held by your wife. “I know you were under Miranda’s control but something held you back from killing me outright. I know it.”
“You don’t know what it’s like being under someone else’s control.” You can almost feel Alcina’s body shudder as she recalls that night. “It was like I was outside my body watching myself. I was screaming at myself to stop when I kissed that woman.” The memory of your wife kissing Mother Miranda so passionately pops into your mind briefly but you shut it out as she goes on. “And when I stabbed you, I-” Her voice cracks. “I was practically begging myself to stop but my body just moved on its own.”
“Don’t you see, then, darling?” you ask. “You weren’t yourself when you were under Mother Miranda’s control. The person that kissed Mother Miranda, the person that stabbed me, that wasn’t you, so please.” You cradle Alcina’s face in your hands and stare into those beautiful discs of gold. “Please stop blaming yourself for this. Mother Miranda is dead. I’m alive. Our daughter is safe and healthy. That’s what matters now.”
Alcina kisses your forehead lovingly. “When did you get so wise?” she asks, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. You can see that you’ve finally gotten through to her. Her body posture is more relaxed, her jaw is loose, and her shoulders aren’t so tight. She carefully places the new bandage over your wound and you feel a pleasant tingle as you feel her bare fingers brush briefly over your tender skin.
She moves to pull your slip over your new bandage but you take her wrist before she can withdraw it. You hold her gaze as you take the strap of your slip off your shoulder and your slip coils in a pool of silk around your ankles. She takes you in her arms and brushes her lips against yours briefly. When she pulls aways, you see the same desire in her eyes. “Are you quite sure, ingeras?” Alcina asks, brushing the back of her knuckles against your cheekbones.
“Yes” you rasp. “Take me to the bed.”
Alcina picks you up as you wrap your legs around her waist, taking care not to touch your sensitive wound and carries you over to the bed. She gently, almost reverently lays you down on the bed. She lowers herself down to kiss you again and you bury your fingers in her curls. Alcina deepens the kiss, her tongue coaxing your mouth open as you unfasten the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. “I’ll go slow for you, draga,” Alcina murmurs against your lips.
“Alright, let’s see how our little patient is doing today- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK?”
It seems like Heisenberg has decided to check up on you today.
With a frustrated growl Alcina moves quickly in front of you while holding her own dress up. “Yes, Heisenberg, that is in fact what we were setting out to do before you arrived.” Alcina shakes her head at him derisively. “You seem to have impeccably bad timing, as always.”
Heisenberg’s face is beet red again, you note with amusement. “Well, excuse me for trying to check in on my sister-in-law and my goddaughter! Speaking of which, really Alcina? Getting down and dirty with the kid in the room?”
Alcina’s cheeks are also sporting a lovely red color. “Ecaterina was asleep.” Amidst all the commotion, Ecaterina has already woken up and is crying. “Well, she was until you came in.”
The girls suddenly materialize into the room. “Mother!” Cassandra chirps. “I thought I heard Uncle Karl in here and- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK!”
Alcina covers her face with her hands. Bela takes the book that Daniela is holding and holds it so it’s covering the image of you and your wife on the bed. “Really Mother,” Bela tuts to herself.
Daniela doesn’t seem to mind. She turns to the two of you, unperturbed by the state of your undress and asks, “Can Uncle Karl stay for dinner, Mother, Maman? Please? It’s been so long since we’ve all had dinner together!”
You smile indulgently at her over Alcina’s shoulder. “Of course he can, darling,” you say.
“Fine,” Alcina mutters. "Now if you please, will all of you kindly get out of our room?”
The daughters vanish into the bug shrouds, chattering excitedly about what Cook is making for dinner. Heisenberg leaves too, chuckling softly to himself.
You turn to your blushing bride and give her a chaste kiss on the lips before you both get dressed and join your daughters for dinner.
Together. As a family.
#alcina dimitrescu#lady alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#alcina x maiden#alcina x reader#lady dimitrescu x female reader#re8 fanfiction#re8 fanfic#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu x reader#karl heisenberg#mother miranda#re8 village#alcina x female reader#lady dimitrescu x maiden
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malleus? 👀
Malleus is such a bubbled off almost pure boi that he's very unsure what his fetishes are tbh. He doesn't have the words for it but he's a little affection starved so just being touched by Yuu is pleasurable to him. Not always sexually. Her caressing his horns is relaxing to him and makes him feel good in a more wholesome way. Same with if she caresses the top of his head in an almost motherly way. Mal can get really cute sometimes because he will gently bury his head into her shoulder with the cutest most docile smile on his handsome face when she pampers him like that.
Getting his tummy rubbed does actually turn him a lot whether he's full or if Yuu just wants to touch his tummy for any reason. They could be studying in the library together and his cheeks will burn if she starts to sneakily unbutton the button of his shirt and slide her hand under his shirt and start to rub his smooth but tone stomach. Even with how almost bashful Malleus can be he won't be able to hold back a pleasurable moan when she rubs his belly. Same applies if she caresses his throat when he swallows something and feels the lump sliding down~
He also has a navel kink as well. Belly buttons turn him on a lot which is why from time to time he can go a little blushy seeing other students shirtless or jumping in such a way that their shirts ride up and show off their belly buttons. Whenever yuu caresses near his own navel or fingers it he will groan loudly with erotic pleasure and be absolute putty in her fingertips.
Malleus is a big eater in the game. He gave himself heartburn from eating an entire ice cream cake because nobody came to his birthday party T_T
He doesn't stuff his face the way a lot of bois in NRC do but he eats so much that his tummy can bulge out into a really nice and taut bloat. And because he gets riled up by having his tummy touched his is a fetish that both pleases him and arouses his girlfriend at the same time letting her feel his bulging belly up from top to bottom side to side and everywhere in between.
Mal's tummy is also incredibly noisy so he can indulge Yuu's fetish for stomach noises. It gurgles like crazy when it's full getting really acidic about it so Mal will lean back and make his belly stick out more for Yuu to press her ear against it and listen to gurgling away.
Its equally noisy when Mal's hungry because his stomach will roar like a lion. So while that can be embarrassing for him his hungry growls drive Yuu crazy. Mal will lean back confused but nonetheless allow Yuu to listen to his empty tummy grumbling angrily in her ears.
Mal also gets pretty bad hiccups that he always tries to stifle which jerks his entire body and teases the heck out of Yuu's hiccup kink. If his tummy is full then it will jerk along with his chest and suck in and out making its contents slosh and churn and make his hiccups deeper. If he can't hold them in then when they exit his mouth they get really high pitched and occasionally turn into wet burps halfway in. The only drawback is while Mal can have some really sexy hiccups he can also accidentally hiccup fire. In canon when he was a baby Mal hiccuped on Lilia and burned his bangs which is the canonical reason why Lilia's hair is singed. So if he gets them really bad then if he doesn't get a lot of water in him he can still hiccup much larger torrents of fire than he did as a baby :o
And finally despite being very well mannered Mal gives the hottest closed mouth burps Yuu has ever heard. He'll either bring a fist to his mouth or delicately hold his fingers over his lips as a large closed mouth burp rumbles heavily behind his lips and even puffs his cheeks lightly. And with really thick ones Mal will sigh out gas laced with smoke breezily. He'll always excuse himself out of habit but because he knows Yuu gets really turned on he'll smirk coyly when he excuses himself with an air of teasing sarcasm behind it. He can even let himself be kinky enough to lean right next to Yuu's ear and give a raunchy closed mouth burp right near her ear then softly blow his smoky gas right in her face. Sometimes tho Mal can't hold a burp in and when he lets them out loud they're absolutely massive. Being part-dragon Mal has a lot of smoke buildup in his tummy and whenever he can't hold back a lot of gas rushes up at once and creates these massive throaty burps that can drag on for nearly five seconds and get really loud. If there's too much buildup in Mal's belly then he may even burp flames out too. When he's really full and letting Yuu push on his belly to make himself burp sometimes she'll push too hard and he'll burp out loud which can embarrass him but he takes solace in knowing how turned on it made Yuu instead of grossing her out. But he always tries his hardest not to burp out loud not because he's a prude but because the good boi is actually scared he'll accidentally burp fire X3
#kink canon#malleus#malleus x yuu#tummy kink#hiccup kink#affection kink#affection starved#tummy rubs#tummy noises#burps#burp kink#hiccups#navel kink#tummy play#i ship it
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Okay so this one is based on an anon request I got. A particular detail made me uncomfortable, but otherwise the concept was solid. If you want elaboration on my feelings on that, you can ask, but I don't wanna bog down the story with that ramble ^,....,^'
A wereboar discovers a human living beneath their floorboards. This person is in exile and being hunted; to make matters worse a very tough person is hunting this human. The good natured wereboar decides to help the human evade capture.
Content: soft, safe protection vore, panicking prey, willing human prey, boar-human hybrid pred, belly bulge, fearplay, threat/false claim of digestion, regurgitation, comfort afterward
Tuki walked up their front steps, feeling the familiar creak of boards beneath their feet. The bungalow stood alone in a woodland clearing, the perfect place for someone like Tuki to live. Isolated, yet close enough to civilization to get the supplies they needed.
Once inside they let their loaded sack fall to the floor. They knelt and began going through it, sorting the things within; food went to one side while fabric went to the other. Behind them, they heard a rustling noise. Very slowly they stopped rifling through the bag and listened. Their nose twitched and they snuffled curiously while slowly turning their head.
Something was scraping against a floorboard over there. Had to be big, a rat wouldn't sound like that. Maybe a raccoon? Looking around, Tuki could see one of the cabinet doors was open in the kitchen. That little thief!
The homeowner crept across the floor as quietly as they could. Unfortunately, stealth was not their strong suit. Their weight made the floorboards groan with every step.
The rustling went quiet. Tuki bent low and sniffed at the floorboards with little grunts. They had to be getting close. The scent of some creature wafted up; it didn't smell like racoon.
"Hey!" They called gruffly, "Get out here you vermin!"
A soft whimper and hasty scrabbling from below the floor was the only response. Tuki growled and leapt to their feet. In a flash they were out the door and scrambling under the cabin. Leaf litter and dirt kicked up as the creature tried to hurry away. Tuki crawled on their belly, moving arm over arm with surprising speed thanks to bulky muscles.
As the creature became silhouetted by the daylight on the far side of the cabin, its pursuer frowned. That almost looked like a person…
Tuki stopped and called, "Hey! I won't hurt you. Wait!"
It froze. They could see a head swivel and bob while it tried to get a look at them. They approached slowly.
The creature backed out from under the house, sunlight revealing its form. It was a human! Mud streaked their ashen face and twigs stuck from their unkempt hair at odd angles. They kept taking steps backwards, eyes trained on the crevice where Tuki would emerge.
By the time they were free to stand, the human was halfway to the tree line. They brushed themselves off and stood by the back of the house, "Hey! I said I wouldn't hurt you. You look like you could use some help. I- well I don't like that you stole some food, but you clearly need it. Come inside and I'll help you."
The frail person tilted their head one way, then the other. Big, dark eyes glittered as they considered the offer. They seemed human, but right now they reminded Tuki more of a yearling doe.
Tuki held out their hand, "Come here! I promise it'll be okay."
They blinked, then approached. Tuki let their arm fall and turned towards the front of the house. They didn't need to look back to sense that the bedraggled human was following a short distance behind.
Inside Tuki was able to heat some water so they could bathe. While they did, the host picked out some of their own clothes that might fit. An oversized shirt made a dress-length tunic for the human. Then they set to cooking up some warm food; they could tell it would do them good.
Over the meal, Tuki managed to gather that his name was Lark, and he was hiding from someone. He was vague about that, as if worried Tuki would change their mind about being so hospitable if they knew. Sensing the reluctance, they didn't press the matter.
After even this small bit of care, Lark was looking much better than he had been. His cheeks had a warm, healthy glow, and his hair was hanging in loose curls just above his shoulders. He looked a little silly in the large shirt, but at least it was soft and clean.
A loud knock at the door rang through the cabin. Lark jumped and spilled the soup he had been sipping from a bowl. His eyes were wide with alarm, and suddenly his whole body shook.
Tuki stood to answer the door but he darted over and grabbed at their arm. "No! Don't!" He hissed, looking up with pleading eyes.
They frowned down at him, "Why not?"
"They're here for me; they'll hurt me. You gotta hide me somewhere- somewhere they won't find me!"
Their frown deepened and they cast a worried glance around the simple dwelling. The only room besides the main area was their bed and bath room, but that didn't exactly have any hiding places. If he could get back under the floor, then maybe-
Another flurry of knocks rapped at the door. This time it was accompanied by a warning voice, "Whoever is in there, open up or I'll have to come in myself!"
Lark trembled and clung to Tuki's arm. His wordless plea was all across his face. Their face softened and they whispered, "Do you trust me?"
"I- what? I have to; if you have a plan, then do it!"
Tuki nodded and gently removed him from their arm. The human watched with a creeping dread as before his very eyes his host's shape shifted. Their face elongated, sharp tucks sprouting from between their lips. Their stubble lengthened and hair thinned, becoming thick bristles. Ears lengthened and flopped, and their form filled out their shirt better.
Beady black eyes full of concern gazed at Lark from that monstrous face. His host wasn't human; they were a were-boar!
He sucked in a shaky breath and fought the urge to turn and run. Filled with desperation, he knew flight was not an option.
He squeaked as their powerful hands grabbed his slight shoulders and lifted him. His feet reflexively kicked a little as they left the floor. Their jaws opened wide, saliva hanging in thick strands that trembled with their hot breath. The humid air washed over his face as he screwed his eyes shut. Terror pricked at his belly and sent his heart racing as he felt a slobbery tongue rise up to greet his face.
Their maw shut around his head and shoulders gently. Even if he wanted to cry out, he couldn't, smothered by wet flesh as they crammed his head down their throat. They swallowed; it was a sickening feeling to have those powerful muscles constrict around him.
He could hardly feel their hands grasp his hips now and heave him deeper in. His legs kicked wildly and he fought for air through the panic and slime. His whole body became completely enveloped in rippling muscle and coated in saliva as he slid downward.
Tuki wiped their mouth with the back of a hairy hand while the other slid down to support their swelling belly. They felt their gut stretch as their hastily gobbled prey slid down and was forced to curl. Their stomach walls were taut and smooth around Lark's quivering form. The bulge of their belly strained against their shirt, making it ride up a little. It wasn't very inconspicuous, but it would have to do.
They plodded over to the door just as whoever was outside turned the handle. The door swung inward to reveal the would-be intruder, a hulking man carrying a baton in one hand and clutching the short leash of a massive dog in the other. The beast snarled and snapped at Tuki, but they held their ground. The man looked surprised, but a snear took over, "There you are, you dumb brute! You couldn't hear me knocking?"
Armed and with that vicious dog, Tuki knew they couldn't fight. Especially stuffed full like this. They would have to talk their way through this. "I could," they said crossly, "but I was finishing my dinner when you so rudely interrupted."
"I have important business, more important than you stuffing your face, pig."
Tuki narrowed their eyes, "What is it then?"
"I'm on the trail of a dangerous fugitive who is an enemy of the state." At that Lark squirmed inside their belly nervously, but went still as the man continued, "I tracked him here, intending to apprehend him so he can be exiled permanently."
The dog was straining against its tether, sniffing with interest at the threshold. Its master didn't spare it a glance, stone-cold eyes fixed on Tuki and club raised menacingly. They replied, "Well I haven't come across anyone dangerous."
"He's a sly curr, might not seem dangerous. Have you seen any strangers around here? Heard anything odd?"
"Hmmmm," Tuki said, weighing their options. They scratched at their belly, drawing up the shirt to reveal the rounded bulge sagging over the waist of their pants. "There was this one little fella, big doe eyes. He stole some food from me," the anxious squirms started up again, making their protruding gut wiggle. "So I ate him instead!"
"You what?" The man snarled. Slowly his gaze drifted down to their taut stomach, and horror crept into his eyes at seeing it move. He looked back at Tuki with disgust, "You ate a man?"
"Hardly a man," they shrugged, "More of a vermin. I'm not too picky though," they said with a smirk.
Seemingly at a loss for words, he just gaped at the wereboars belly for a while. Then he looked past them, into the house, "I'm going to have a look around, just in case."
"You won't find much," Tuki gloated, patting their belly. A burp rumbled up and escaped loudly. The dog sniffed the air then bayed and reared up to investigate their snout. They laughed and the man dragged it away and into the house by its leash.
Tuki kept a wary eye on the two invaders while they leaned against the threshold. Lark still hadn't settled down, his body writhing within the flexible limits of the stomach. Little muffled grunts could barely be heard above the gurgling fluids shifting around him.
The dog barked with savage excitement as it found Lark's dirty clothes. The wash water had already been drained away, leaving little explanation. The man hooked the tattered clothes with a finger and brought them to Tuki, "Whats this? Is it yours?"
"No, you're welcome to it. I took those filthy rags off that human before I devoured him. I have some standards," they huffed.
The man eyed their still moving gut, "You ate him alive?"
"Of course! Killing is so messy, I don't like to do it in the house. Besides," they leaned in with a ghoulish grin, "I like to feel them squirm as I digest."
Lark flailed as best he could within the cramped confines, but the real reward was the brief widening of the intruder's eyes at that comment. He scowled, "Can't you spit him up? I have a job to do."
Offended, Tuki leaned back, "What? And waste a perfectly good meal? No, you were too slow. He's mine now. Besides, it's not like he's going anywhere. Just tell your master you did it; how're they gonna know any different?"
He considered, then trudged past the wereboar, hauling his dog along, "Fine. But if I get in trouble, don't think I won't send someone after your hide too!"
"I expect nothing less from a scoundrel like you."
He froze and clenched his cudgel. Tuki dearly hoped he wouldn't try to use it. Thankfully, that was the case, and he stomped off without another word.
Tuki shut the door and locked the bolt into place, just in case. They went over to their chair and sat down heavily. Their belly bumped against their legs as Lark continued to wriggle frantically. His whining could be heard by Tuki, and their heart lurched. The poor creature must be terrified. If only they had had more time to explain.
They got up and hurried to get a towel, then went to their bedroom and stood infront of the bed. They heaved, and with great effort Lark slid up and out of their stomach. He landed on the towel laid out to catch him and lay there shivering. Before he could scramble away, Tuki shifted back to their human form and bundled him up in the towel. He fought against the warm folds of cloth weakly before realizing he wasn't in danger. The wereboar sat on the bed and cradled the swaddled human in their lap, using a corner of the towel to wipe his face and hair.
He looked up with wide, tearful eyes, "You…." He couldn't find the words.
They hugged him tightly then gave an apologetic stare, "You're quite the mess, again. I didn't know what else to do. He would've found you if I hadn't-"
He cut them off, "I know. I know. It's just- the things you said, they were terrifying. Especially from, well, in there," his eyes flicked meaningfully to their belly.
They nodded and continued to clean him up carefully. He relaxed into their hold, inhaling the fresh air deeply.
Neither of them spoke. Both of their minds independently wandered to the same, simple question: what next? Neither of them had the answer right now.
#soft vore#safe vore#protection vore#digestion mention#reluctant prey#wereboar pred#anthro pred#human prey#belly bulge#bulging belly#similar size vore#same size vore#unintentional fearplay#panicking pred#regurgitation#hurt/comfort#debiteful writing
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29+1 (Part Three - Finale)
𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader?!?!)
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (fluff & definite smut)
𝔴𝔠: 10.7k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 18+ only. descriptions of sex (are you really that surprised after the last part?): including rejected then unrejected condom use (practice safe kids), possible more unprotected drunk sex, one night stands, lots more mentions of sex, slight unrequited love, more sexts, and Seokjin being a downright meanie (redemption arc?!)
𝔞/𝔫: each part just gets longer - sorrynotsorry. but here is the finale. life gets messy, but we only ever really learn from failures, right? feedback and comments are forever welcomed. as always, enjoy (:
part one | part two
The two of you fumble in the darkness into the room. The majority of guests have since returned home, but there is still loud music and the rhythms of its bass punctuating through the ceiling into the floorboards of the upstairs.
You had initially suggested any of the guest rooms but Seokjin had said that if there was going to be sex, it would be done in Junho’s bedroom where the bed is the softest and the pillows the fluffiest.
After a brief and awkward encounter with the security guard who had rejected the two of you away from the staircase leading upstairs, Seokjin had led you up the back entrance where only the occupants of the house could navigate to.
“No, fuck this is weird. Junho is going to sleep here tonight,” Seokjin suddenly says.
Your fingers fumble to undo the buttons of his shirt, but it has been tucked in so tightly it now hangs halfway undone.
“He’s your best friend. He’s probably heard you fucking through the walls when you were university roomies. Can you undo your own buckle? It’s making your shirt get caught,” you say hastily.
The door slams shut behind you, as he pushes you roughly against it. His kisses are heated, making you claw at his bareback as he works on your request.
“Where’s the – ”
“Zipper’s on the side,” you manage to rasp out. The knot in your abdomen tightens when your dress comes loose and falls to the ground.
You do not know how the two of you make it onto the bed. The room swirls with you as he throws you onto the sheets.
From the light casted in through the windows, you find yourself dwarfed by the silhouette of his broad shoulders and muscular torso. You scoot back to make room for him on the bed, the only thought overwhelming your mind is the need to feel this man on you.
He growls, hitting his shin on the jutting edge of the bed. He swears quite loudly (and foully), but it doesn’t stop him from advancing, eyes lusting over the rise and fall of your breasts and the glisten between your legs.
“Fuck,” he says again, coming onto you with a ferocity of an animal in heat. He pins your arms above your head and begins to lower himself down.
“Wait!” you suddenly scream. It makes him balk in his advance. “You might have good genes, but I’m not risky any bratty children even if my eggs are shriveling up by the second.”
He brings his hips closer to you once again.
“Seokjin! Protection? Condom?”
His eyes scan the room wildly. “It’s fine. I don’t want any of your bratty children either,” he brushes aside your concern.
You sit up. “Fuck no. How am I sure that you’re not going to pass on something weird to me? We’re using one.”
He pulls open the drawer next to the bed but comes up empty handed.
“You don’t have one,” you say when it hits you, “Mr. I’m-Prepared-For-Anything was not prepared for this.”
You see him hunker down in the slightest, bringing a hand in front.
“I don’t get how I’m supposed to anticipate when I have sex. But for your information, I do. It’s just the one I have might be old and ineffective.”
Laughing, you push him onto the bed and reach down to where your small purse had been discarded for the night. You wonder if he has comprehended the impact on your sexual drive when telling you that he carries old condoms.
The deep moan escapes from him before he can stop it. Your hand holds his shaft as you slip the protective latex over it. Then before he can say anything more, you lower yourself onto him.
...
Drunk sex can be fun, but for the most part, it is mostly just downright messy.
You hope he does not remember when you had been moving just a little too roughly, ended up sitting on him at an awkward angle and causing him to yelp in pain. You also hope that it had been your imagination in throwing up just a little bit when he had his dick shoved up your mouth.
Right now, however, is pure bliss.
Your fist tightens your hold on his hair and the other hand pushes against the headboard of the bed. Your panting increases as you continue to gyrate against his lips and tongue, his nose burying itself and hitting the bud every so often.
“Oh my god,” you breathe, buckling when he grips your ass.
You have lost track of time. You don’t care if Junho doesn’t make it to his bedroom tonight. All you know is that twenty minutes ago you had tried to fall asleep only to find Seokjin nibbling your ear and hands slipping beneath your pubic line. Not to mention the hardening of his boner against your back.
“Oh god,” you breathe again. The thought of the aforementioned sends you into a deeper lust.
You are torn out from your thoughts when you notice that he is saying something at the moment. Looking down at him, your heart skips a beat in seeing the mess you have made on his face.
The air is sickly with the scent of alcohol mixed with your perfume and his cologne.
“I want to fuck you,” he is saying in nearly a moan, “I need to fuck you.”
He removes himself from under you. On his knees behind you, he pulls your hips towards him and your face falls onto the sweat soaked pillowcase. He is not gentle when widening your stance so he can enter from behind. A hand is firmly pushing on the crook of your back, and the silent ‘o’ of your face reflecting back upon the mirror over the bed sends a painful spasm down. His erection grows impossibly bigger.
He moves at a merciless pace, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body and the room fills with lewd sounds of skin slapping and sucking as you take in the length of his shaft. Reaching around so that he can only stretch your walls further and ram into you deeper, his fingers circle your clit to hit it in a way that brings tears into your eyes at the stimulation. He is content when a line of profanities mingled with his name stream out from your mouth.
“Come for me, baby girl. Come for daddy.”
Your words hitch in your throat upon hearing his command. With all your will, you push yourself away from him and turn to face him.
His chest glistens as he kneels erect in front of you. The thoughts that swirl around in your mind right now; the things that you want for him to do; the things that you want to do. The things you are willing to beg to do.
“Let’s get this straight. First things first, I am not your baby girl,” you say, bringing yourself up to your knees. His lips are swollen and he does not hide the way his eyes rake over every inch of your body as you are before him.
“Secondly,” You grab him and pull him down with you so that your back hits the bed first. “You’re going to fuck me like this.”
Your fingers are coated in your arousal when you guide him so that he slides his entire girth between your folds. You watch as his tongue flicks out and swirls around two of your digits before he gorges them to the knuckles. The sound he makes at this moment sends you hurtling towards the edge.
“And third,” you stop yourself short, biting onto his shoulder while he begins to thrust into you again. “You’re going to come first, Daddy.”
You cannot prepare yourself for the impact. He brings your legs above his shoulders, moving at a pace and depth that you did not think he was possible of until now. Your nails rip into the skin of his back, your chanting of his name like a prayer for him to keep going.
He feels you shaking beneath him, and god, you are so incredibly sexy even with your hair plastered across your forehead. He knows that you are about to tip over but he cannot disobey your order. You mewl in displeasure when he stops, his head in you just far enough to stretch the beginnings of your walls.
“Me first, right?” His eyes do not leave your face. Anther few inches deeper.
You meet him with an angry kiss, grasping for him. He slides the entirety of himself in, and the muscles of his glutes tense at the impact. Letting him ride until he has reaches his high, you bring him even closer to you as you feel his warmth spread through you. He dips down, cleaning you with his tongue, and his lips do not leave yours until you have released yourself over the curling of his fingers.
The both of you are panting heavily as you lay side by side on the king-sized mattress with its silk sheets and lavish satiny blanket. There are unceremoniously dumped rubbers on the floor. You pull the sheets over yourself to cover the stark nakedness you feel, and you inhale sharply at the realization that indeed, you just had sex with your boss.
You hiccup, and a loud burp erupts from you filled with the aftertaste of high-end liquour. You giggle, still ever so slightly inebriated from the events of the night.
“You’d better not be this drunk next weekend,” Seokjin says from beside you. He takes a corner of the sheets and covers himself as well. Even his voice electrifies you. You have to hold your breath for a moment to will yourself to not crawl back closer to him.
“Don’t worry. This is why we did this dry run,” you reassure him.
The house has been quiet for a while and somewhere in the distance, you hear the chime of a bell. It indicates that it is very well past midnight at this point. “I really hope that Junho doesn’t sleep in here tonight,” you say, still staring at the ceiling.
“I texted him,” is Seokjin’s reply.
You turn your head and look at him, face stoic. He returns with a look of his own, the dark pupils of his eyes only beginning to ease the previous hunger. Your heart does a painful leap, and you return your gaze back upon the ceiling.
“Did you have a condom on?”
There is no response. You see that his eyes are closed and there is a gentle rhythmic movement of his chest.
You turn your back to Seokjin’s sleeping form and do not wake from your slumber until early the next morning.
Well, shit.
...
It is the day before the Silver Gala. Taehyung had asked you if you wanted to grab dinner with him. You agreed, and went home first to freshen up before meeting him at the restaurant as he had to stay later at the office to finish up some work.
You hadn’t known exactly what to expect on the Monday when you returned to work. The following day after the whole escapade (ahem sexcapade), you had met with Jimin and Taehyung as previously planned. Neither commented on your choice to wear a scarf despite the humid summer weather. Brunch had been pleasant enough, but your mind had been distant throughout the entire afternoon.
You had felt guilty lying to your own brother when asked how your night out had been, and since Taehyung had not brought it up, you had chosen not to speak to him about it either. And that desperately killed you because you had discovered that you did not like keeping secrets from him. You liked being able to talk to him about anything and everything on your mind.
When you dropped Jimin off at the airport a few days after brunch, he had made a small comment about how he’s glad you’ve found someone to talk to. He had been worried that his little sister would be alone throughout her internship. You had reassured him that you are more than capable of handling yourself, but thank him for his concern nonetheless. You even reassure that you have only about a two and a half weeks left of this work contract, and that you may just decide to return home for a while. He had given you a much longer hug than anticipated, then said, “Good people are hard to come by.” You had asked him what he meant by that but all you received was a cryptic smile.
The days had continued to roll by uneventfully. No longer did you have lunch meetings with your boss. Not that you had minded, considering the pile of work that seems to be growing on your desk. And the minor fact that whenever you looked at your boss all you could see was his naked sweaty body.
You have noticed, however, that he has been just a little bit kinder to you. He is a little more courteous; you catch a small “thank you” one morning when you deliver his coffee. You even contemplate on not submitting the Starbucks receipt for reimbursement as a small gesture of gratitude to him for taking care of you (in more ways than one) that night.
All in all, things had been running fine.
Okay, okay. You may have omitted one big thing; let’s do a tiny bit of a rewind.
To begin, your thoughts on the situation are completely valid. The two of you had been consenting adults. Sure, some alcohol may have been involved, but when you break it down, the two of you had an itch that only the other could have satisfied that night. Nothing wrong with that.
So why the night after meeting Jimin and Taehyung in the morning for lunch had you taken a photo exposing more than just your toes. Of course, you hadn’t sent it (you’re not trying that desperately to ruin your own life), but it sits in your gallery a button away from flying.
It is this photo that you stare at while sitting on the toilet, minutes away from leaving the house. Your fingers hover over the trash can icon. You had to admit to yourself that you looked good. The red frilly garter set that sat at the back of your lingerie drawer had not been used since…well, it just hadn’t been used. But seeing yourself all dolled up made you feel sexy and extremely confidant.
“Just delete it,” you whisper into the air. “Why are you keeping it anyways if you’re not planning on sending it. And if you truly want to send it in the future, you could always take a new one. But also: delete it.”
Seriously though. You find yourself extremely frustrated in the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a photo of yourself. And in all honesty, you felt a little sad if it were to be permanently gone. Like a missed chance to show someone just how good you could look.
Let’s find your name beside the definition of “narcissistic”.
“Fuck it,” you say, pulling your pants up. You zip up the jeans and stick your phone in the back pocket, turned off and conundrum forgotten.
You are putting a final brush of lip gloss when your phone buzzes on your vanity table.
7:48pm “Hey Y/N. Sorry I’m running a little bit late. I just need another five minutes.”
You promptly reply.
7:48pm “No worries. I can go to the restaurant first and get us seats. Pick out a wine or something for us to share?”
Keys, wallet, extra cash. All check. You glance at your phone again and see that Taehyung has yet to reply. Knowing him, he is probably rushing right now trying to finish whatever it is. He hated being late and keeping people waiting.
Buzz.
7:50pm “I need to see you.”
You stare at the text, feet frozen on the ground. Your palms suddenly get strangely clammy and the more you stare at the text, the more the words seem to shift and blur in your eyesight. Your heart is thundering as you type a response.
7:53pm “At the office?”
His text back comes immediately.
7:53pm “No. My house. I’ll send you the address.”
Indeed, the address is shot through, and you recognize the street name as part of an expensive neighbourhood with fancy buildings and bougie restaurants. Surely, it must not be professional for you to go up directly to your boss’ place of personal living. Also, what would he need you for that could not be done at the office, the place of work?
You desperately wish you had somebody to talk this over with, but Jimin knew nothing about you and Seokjin, and neither did Taehyung. Besides, the latter was still at work. Taking a seat on the stairway by the door, you decide to consult the next best thing: Google.
“Booty call (n): someone who receives a text or call by a bastard between the times of 12am – 3am for a hookup. The bastard will usually greet the booty call with a simple ‘hey’ or ‘what’s up?’”
You nervously bite on your fingernail. Technically, it is only 8pm. He also did not greet with “hey” or “what’s up?” but then again, he never texted you before. His direct message may as well have been the equivalent of “hey” or “what’s up?”. Swallowing, you scan through the next part of the text definition.
“The bastard enjoys using the booty call for sex and nothing else. No friendship is involved.”
You set the phone down beside you. Two consenting adults. An itch that only the other could satisfy. No. Seokjin’s lame ass probably wouldn’t even know what a booty call was. It’s always about work with him.
8:00pm “I want you”
8:00pm “Right now.”
You suddenly see yourself in that garter set again with its frills and open hearts in all the wrong/right places.
...
Seokjin drums his fingers on his bar table impatiently. He had sent you the text over half an hour ago and had not received a single response. He ponders if you had even received the text message or if you were already drinking the night away, as you had often told him would be your Friday evening.
Meandering over to his personal shelf of liquor, he uncaps a bottle of whiskey and prepares an iced glass.
He hopes that you will be the answer to his problem. If somebody had asked him only a few weeks ago if he could have ever envisioned himself in this situation, he would have denied it vehemently. However, the weekend with you had had him contemplating things over and over in his head all week.
Most thoughts were often of matters strictly at hand, but sometimes he found himself staring into space after a particularly sinful image of you interrupts his client meeting. It also hadn’t helped that with the incoming heat wave summer brings, the general population elects to wear a little less than usual, and you being in that halter dress had done him zero favours.
Blinking, he realizes he has poured a little more than his usual amount of whiskey. He exhales sharply, duly noting the slight increase in his heartbeat, and clears his throat despite being the only person home. There is the low rumbling of a car engine in the background, and he is reminded of a moan that suspiciously resembles an employee he cannot wipe out of his mind.
He checks his phone once again to see if there had been any missed messages while combing his fingers through his hair. The least you could do would be to at least send some type of message of whether or not you wanted to come. He wouldn’t be offended – it is slightly inappropriate to be seeing you outside of the office (you as his plus one as an exception) – but he knew he would be more offended if you simply left him hanging.
The sip of whiskey helps ease the tension around his neck after sitting in video conferences all day. Without much of a thought, he swipes the barstool beside him and inspects it of dust.
The doorbell rings.
You are tugging at the jacket you have chosen for the occasion: the longest one you own. During your Uber over, you had tried your best not to make eye contact with the driver, but you do not know if that had made him more or less apprehensive of his passenger. You knock this time, the itch building beneath the jacket.
“Did you tour the city?” he says with a drawl when he opens the door.
You meet his eyes shyly. They are regarding you with amusement. There is the smell of robust acidity when you brush past him to enter his penthouse. The lights are dimmed in the space except for a bulb hanging over the enormous kitchen island counters. A wall of expensive bottles line one side of the wall, and you spy the culprit of the previous smell on the bar table.
He continues to watch you with a bemused smile as you stand transfixed at the large space decorated with post-modern furniture. Most of it is a near clinical white, but a splash of pink and greens accent the walls or as a central statement piece.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks.
Startled, you glance at his wall. You recognize none of the labels and tell him that you’ll just take whatever it is that he has. You stand in your spot and watch as he rolls back his sleeves to pour you a drink. Your fingers clutch and pull the jacket around your shoulders tighter around your body as you are reminded of the muscles beneath the set of his light tunic and velvet trousers.
He hands the drink to you, noticing how cold your fingertips are when they brush against his. This is the first time he has seen you with your hair fully down and not in the work day ponytail you often sport. He notices the flush of pink blush you have applied and the same scent of perfume he has smelled before. Your legs are bare and he can’t help but wonder where you had been planning to go before he had called you to be dressed up like so. He also notices how often you are picking at your jacket.
“Sit.” He gestures to the couch. “You can take off the jacket if you want. I don’t have a coat hanger so drape it over a chair if you want.”
It may have been his imagination, but you seem to turn an even lighter shade of pink.
“R-Right now? You want me to undress now?”
He crosses his arms across his chest. Even though the tunic is loose-fitted, it does not hide the broadness of his shoulders and the definition of his deltoids. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. The jacket is borderline hideous so maybe keep cover whatever else you’ve got planned underneath there.” He takes a seat across from you and crosses a long leg.
You can feel your entire body heating up as he runs his eyes up and down your body. It should not be possible for someone to look as good as he did simply sitting, swirling his cup lazily with the barely there smirk.
No friendship. Just sex.
You throw back the drink, nearly gagging at the unfamiliar taste. “I haven’t ever really done this before, so I’m just going to go for it,” you say. You stand and inhale deeply. Taking a few steps forward, you walk towards him.
Seokjin watches as you come closer. He sees as you begin to fumble at the buttons of your jacket. In one swift motion, you have suddenly ended up straddled on his lap.
You press your lips against his, gripping the back of his head and interloping your fingers through the soft tendrils of his hair. He tastes like the sweet whiskey you had both shared and an undertone of mint. You press your own heated body against his chest.
“What in the – ” he says, pushing you off him. He is stopped short only when his eyes land on what you had been concealing beneath the jacket.
...
Taehyung had ran as fast as he could from the subway station. Just as he was exiting, he had spied a small flower stand and in the spur of the moment, had decided to purchase a bouquet consisting of magnolias and roses.
He hadn’t meant for the entire thing to have taken that long. He had planned the speech in his mind for days prior, and had even rehearsed it in front of his mirror that morning of. Yet when it came time, and they were standing before one another, his mouth had simply went dry.
He hopes that you haven’t been waiting long, as the five minutes he had texted you about had turned into a solid thirty. He knew there would be raised voices, and he knew that there might even be tears. But he had not anticipated his own feeling of sadness in knowing that there was truly no going back.
“Um, table for two? I think my friend may already be here,” he says to the hostess when he arrives.
Her fingers deftly flip through a few pages of her book. “Do you have a name?”
Taehyung offers yours. “But I don’t think we have a reservation. She may have walked in a while ago?” He proceeds to give a simple description of what you look like. The hostess shakes her head; Taehyung thanks her and shuffles to the side so that the couple behind him could have their turn.
8:42pm “Hey, Y/N. Sorry again. I just arrived. Text me where you’re sitting? I have something that will hopefully make it up to you.”
He leans against the wall, trying his best to catch his breath while ignoring the frantic thumping of his heart. He still does not know if what he did was for the best. He doesn’t know what this could mean for his own future. All he knows is that he needs to speak to you first.
Five minutes pass. Ten. Another fifteen.
He has sent you another text with similar words as the first, but has yet to receive any reply. Calling you has only lead to your voicemail, and knowing that you are not an avid checker of that, he was not able to leave you a message there either. Deciding that maybe you had gone to the bathroom or perhaps you had simply not arrived yet but stuck in traffic elsewhere, he sends you once last text.
9:12pm “Call me when you receive this. I have something important to tell you.”
One incoming text.
Taehyung grips the bouquet harder, missing the vibrations of his phone. His mind is preoccupied with the other speech he has prepared once he is able to see you face to face.
9:13pm “Fuck you, Kim Taehyung. For the record, you’re not the one breaking up with me. I am. I hope the two of you burn in hell together.”
...
Your entire face is burning hotter than your body had been minutes earlier. You have returned to the seat you had been in originally and Seokjin had moved to the further end of the couch across from you. You are no longer only in the bright red lingerie from before, but in a collared shirt that he had thrown to you after he had thrown you off.
Seokjin clears his throat. He keeps his gaze on either your face or somewhere behind you. He does his best not to comment at the fact that he can still see the red of your thong beneath the sheer shirt he had given you. The shirt dwarfs and swallows your smaller body in it. While he might have commented that you looked cute, he shifts himself uncomfortably in his seat after accidentally (?) glancing at your nipples which protrude beneath the thin material. He gropes awkwardly for a throw pillow but notes that it is on the end of the couch closer to you. He crosses his legs instead.
“So what exactly did you think I called you here for?”
Maybe you could just casually fake a stomachache to escape. But it’s a little too late now. Not that you could exactly run outside looking like this. You slide a little lower in the couch, the cheap material of your thong digging into slits that it should not be digging in. You had spied that the heart shaped cut outs of the top were evident through the transparency of the top, so you had elected to take it off when given the privacy to change. Now you wonder if that had been the correct choice as you are nearly certain that the constant rubbing on your boobs on the shirt would make other things evidently pop.
“You were the one who said that you wanted me. Here I quote: “I want you. Right now.” You show him your phone with the receipts.
He barks out a curt laugh, pushing your phone back to you. He ignores the missed button of your shirt that has exposed more of your skin when you had leaned forward with your phone. “I meant I want you here right now. I’ve been stuck at home in international meetings all day, and wanted to speak with you so I could have my dinner in peace after. I didn’t need you to waste any more of my time by waiting by the doorbell until whenever was convenient for you.”
“Well I’m sorry… You could have maybe switched around your words,” you mutter beneath your breath. Peaking beneath your lashes, you can tell that he has pretended not to hear you. He wets his lips with his tongue before sipping again at his drink. When he removes the cup, they glisten with moisture and look delectably soft and plush.
He can see that you are watching him. Your somewhat shy demeanor at the moment throws him off, and he has to adjust the way he sits again. “Hasn’t anyone taught you proper posture?” he chastises you. Your slouching had only drawn the large shirt up your legs. After you adjust the way you are positioned, he reaches over to a folder that had been on the wooden coffee table. He hands the package to you. “This is the reason that I wanted to talk to you.”
There are pages upon pages of the contract. The words with line after line of legal terms and jargon make you blink several times.
“Isn’t this basically what Yerin does?” you ask once you have breezed through it quickly.
He has returned to sipping at his drink. In the light (and your own soberness), you note how quickly he glows under the influence. You swallow the laugh before it can escape, thinking how much he looked like a little chibi character with his over-dramatic blush.
“Yerin’s due for a contract renewal. I also know that your contract is about to expire as well. In all honesty, you have done more work around the office than she or anyone has.”
“I mean, I’m honoured. But look at the two of us right now. I don’t want the rest of the office to think I’ve slept my way into a position. I’ll be fine after my contract expires.” You say the last sentence as consolation to yourself and him.
He shakes his head. “She gave me her resignation letter last week. She’s moving with her fiancée. I now have a vacant position and I need it filled immediately. I believe that you’d be a good fit.”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “A lifestyle of getting Starbucks orders that run into next week? Can’t exactly say it’s all that enticing to be working for a spawn of Satan.”
This time he laughs loudly audibly. “Is that what you think of me? I’d thought you’d at least be more creative when coming up of nicknames.” He stands and walks back to his liquor cabinet. Returning, he refills both of your cups with a new dark liquid.
“I need time to think about it,” you tell him honestly. “As you have probably figured out, I didn’t exactly plan on being offered a job tonight.”
He uncrosses his legs and leans forward. The neck of his shirt falls, opening up to a dangerous black hole to his chest. “I still can’t believe you thought I had texted for a booty call.”
You lean forward and match his stance. “Your text was seriously misleading, okay? Besides, we haven’t exactly talked about what happened last week so I’m sorry for misinterpreting the weird signals you’ve been putting out.”
“I’ve been sending weird signals.”
“Yes. You haven’t spoken to me all week.”
“I told you, I’ve been in a lot of meetings with our new development plan. You’re not exactly a saint yourself by the way; coming in with new outfits everyday and sashaying deliberately in front of my room to the kitchen.”
You hadn’t known that he had picked up on your new wardrobe, let alone your dumb plan of checking in on him while you go get food. “I didn’t know if we were just going to pretend that it never happened or if, I don’t know, there was something.”
“Do you want there to be something?”
“I said I don’t know.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m nearly 30 years old. I’ve worked over a dozen unrelated jobs. I’m currently an intern slash personal assistant slash whatever job position you have just offered me. I live in a tiny apartment and spend my weekends either home alone or at a bar with a singular friends. I don’t think I’m exactly screaming sexy vixen here.”
You do not miss the raise of his eyebrow at your last sentence.
“I don’t believe your age needs to have anything to do with your accomplishments,” he says.
“Says the younger successful CEO of his own company,” you snort.
“I believe in bringing out the best colours for any employee in my company. I started DailyHive off with just an idea and nobody to explain to me what I should be doing. It is people like an experienced intern or a helpful stranger on the street who helped me figure out how to set a company off. The only thing that should be addressed with one’s age is that they’ve got extra years of wisdom. They don’t offer anything less because of a few less letters after their name; they offer so much more.
Even if an individual doesn’t stay at the company, I am content in knowing that I am able to be a part of an individual’s journey to better themselves.”
You draw your legs up beneath you. “You’re damn lucky to have found your own colour in the world. I’m a year-old tube with dry stuck paint at its opening. I don’t know what I want.” It takes you a moment to see that he is looking anywhere else but you, when you feel a breeze shift along your butt. You lower your legs again.
“So many people are fixated on finding their own colour,” he says with a sigh. His gaze lingers outside his windows overlooking the city’s twinkling lights filled with bustling cars and families winding down for the night. “I think life is really about creating your own palette. Nobody is ever created with a singular colour. We’re multidimensional beings with changing goals and motives. We can love one thing and hate it the next moment.”
You bring your legs even closer to you. Damn him for being so freaking attractive while talking about humans being a paint palette.
“Yeah okay. Again, let me think about this,” you grumble.
He turns back to look at your. His eyes are solemn but kind and understanding. He brings out his phone. “Send me your resume. Even if you decide against it, at least I’ll have you on file. I’ll forward it to Yerin before she goes so she can send it off to HR as needed.”
You nod. “I’ll AirDrop it to you right now before I can change my mind. Give me a moment.” You curse him and his words that have now begun to worm its way into your mind. Swiping distractedly at your cluttered gallery, you click the file and send it over to his phone.
“There,” you say once you have completed the task. You look up when he does not respond, noting that he is staring intensely at his phone. “Yeah I get it. Like I said, a lot of random-ass jobs. But I’ll be working on building my palette as you’ve so elegantly put it.”
“I, uh,” He clears his throat. “Could you send it again? I don’t think I got it.”
You roll your eyes. “What are you talking about? Here let me see. You probably don’t know how to access it.” You reach for his phone.
He retracts his hand quickly, immediately clicking the lock button. “No!” he says loudly, “I know how to access it. Just send it again.”
You shake your head, back to scrolling through your phone when it shuts off on you. He pushes you off his lap. “Uh, I can’t. It just died.” You look up and see that he is distracted by his phone again.
“It’s fine,” he says after a moment. “Just send Yerin an email directly, I guess.”
“Okay,” you say. The two of you glance at each other in silence. “So,” you begin, “This is a little awkward but I hadn’t really thought I would be going home. Dead phone means no Uber.”
“I have an extra guest room,” he says before you can finish. “I’ll have someone drive you home tomorrow.”
“Still got some good pillows and sheets though, right?” you say cheekily.
He rolls his eyes and gestures for you to follow him.
...
He tosses and turns in his bed after the two of you have retired into your separate rooms. A particular image cannot be removed from his eyes, and the subject of said image lies only a few walls apart from where he is. He reaches over for his phone.
You know you should have been able to fall asleep quickly, especially with the silk pajamas he has lent you and the extra soft pillows he has prepared on your behalf. Yet, there is an enticing thought that continues to run scenarios through your mind. You need a cup of water or at least some fresh air to clear such thoughts, and remember seeing a balcony by the dining area.
Padding as quiet as you can to the door, you open it as smoothly as you can to not disturb the owner of the house. You are about to walk through when you find a large wall in your way.
Seokjin stands in the doorframe. He looks down at you, a sensual shadow that makes you choke on your breath.
He holds up his phone, the last image he received lighting up your room.
...
“You’re sure this is what you want?” you ask, peeking from behind the door frame. Seokjin lounges on his bed, one leg up and both his arms spread across the back of the headboard. Your toes curl upon laying eyes at his long limbs with that deceiving baby face.
“That was your original plan when you showed up, no? Might as well go through with it.”
You take a deep breath and walk into his room, back into the garter set of the photo you had unintentionally sent him.
He sweeps over you in one movement. He is suddenly ravenous, and you are exactly what he needs to fill his appetite.
“Turn around,” he states.
You do so. He follows the length of the stockings up your thighs, the barely-there thong that opens up with little heart encasing your skin around the side, front and back. Then the frilly top that leaves nothing up to the imagination as they cling onto your skin in one thin strap.
“Come here,” is his next command.
You approach the edge of his bed, then crawl up towards where he has lounged.
“Sit.” He can barely manage the singular word. You had said you were not a vixen before, but that is all he can envision right now. He pats the spot.
Seeing where his hand rests, you lift it and place it on your body. The heat it emanates travels directly to your core. You then sit where you want, and feel a twitch beneath where you have placed your body. This time, he does not push you away when you weave your fingers into his hair and give him a deep kiss. Your tongue sweeps teasingly along the plump lips you had been eyeing earlier that evening, darting in and out without truly meeting his.
He throbs against your thigh. His hands travel from your back to your waist and finally up to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and gives it a light squeeze. He feels you hum at his movements. Traveling to a soft spot in your neck, he suckles it gently all while rubbing the hardening bud.
“Let me hear you say it again,” he whispers between a nip on your earlobe and leaving a wet trail to the top of your breasts. He slips lower on his back, creating a wider cradle in which you rest within his lap.
You adjust yourself, sucking his full bottom lip. “Daddy,” you sigh. This time the twitch is aggressive and you know that there is a growing wet spot where you sit. You sit up with a small groan as he cups your entire breast in a hand. He brings his lips to it and he suckles on your nipple this time. His tongue brushes against the sensitive skin. One hand trails down your abdomen and brushes against your folds. He presses a thumb that easily slides between to your bud.
“Oh, you are so wet.” The sentence comes out as a breathy erotic moan. “Daddy will take care of you tonight.”
Lifting you off him, he slides out of his pajamas before crouching above your figure. He shares another heated kiss, all the while tugging at the laces that hold your outfit together. Your nails dig and leave red markings down his forearms and back, while you bite back a growing moan and heated drop in your body.
“Tell me what you need,” he exhales.
You close your eyes as his tip presses against your pelvis. Reaching, you take his member into your hands and begin to tug at it. You bring yourself to meet him, then begin coating yourself over the entirety of his shaft. When his body spasms above yours, you circle his tip with your thumb and rub it against your clit.
His breathing increases until it becomes a staggered sob. You feel him tightening and he grunts. Taking him to you again, you draw his face towards you, opening his mouth with a swipe of your tongue. He battles against your tongue with his own all the while you increase the speed at which you continue to roll your wrist along his length.
He shakes again violently, and you know he is at the start of his climb. The growl fills the room when you grab him and deny him of is orgasm. He bites into your lip, drawing the iron taste of blood.
“That’s for last time,” you say, the feeling of pain barely registered above the sensation of pleasure.
“Let’s call it even now,” he says. He loops a finger through one of the cutout hearts of your bottoms and the buttons holding it together separate with a pop. He presses gentle kisses on the soft part of your abdomen, then the squishy part of your pelvis, drawing closer to the middle of your thighs, and all the while leading up to your drenched core.
You cannot do anything else but writhe and moan beneath his tongue.
“You should wear that more often. In different colours. Different styles like a babydoll.” The vibrations along his lips only drive you closer to the edge. He latches onto your clit and continues to drink in the sounds that come out from your mouth. “Such naughty sounds from such a pretty mouth,” he rumbles. You yelp when he pinches your nipple with a force, and that animalistic noise has him drawing back up to you.
Your own hunger is overwhelmed when you taste yourself in the harsh kiss he has given. He lines himself up and begins to thrust deeply into you; his fingers dipping into your mouth as you begin to suck. Crude incoherent growls arise from him, his pace not slowing. His fingers leave so that he can reposition himself and watch as he enters and exits you each time. There is only the sound of heavy breathing from the both of you and finally.
You bring your hips to meet his at the same time that he releases himself all over you. You follow only seconds later, the orgasm so intense that for a moment you are knocked breathless. You then feel his soft tremoring kisses on your forehead, your nose and finally a long one on your lips.
“I really need to watch what I send you,” you whisper. In the dim light of the room, you see a large grin as he presses his forehead against yours.
....
The first rule in one-night stands is that you are to never fall for the person. Boundaries are to be set up and these boundaries are not meant to be crossed. Yet throughout the next day, you find yourself hurtling towards the other side of these boundaries at a dangerous momentum.
There had been more love-making sessions that you would like to care to admit. It just hadn’t seemed right to send you home without first having some breakfast. Then you couldn’t because your phone was not finished charging. By then it had been lunch. It is the day of the Gala anyways so why don’t you just stay and he’ll have somebody swing by your place to pick up your outfit?
You had never known Seokjin to be particularly sweet, with his no nonsense attitude and extremely picky choices as your supervisor. Yet when he had placed a meticulously curated meal before you, you had to admit that he is an extremely good cook who also happened to remember your food choices from the times you had shared lunches together.
No breakfast meats as too much salt straight off the bat made your stomach complain. You hated citrus, so he opted out of that when making salmon for lunch. He had made some homemade pesto pasta instead, knowing that you had often inquired of if green was actually healthier than the usual red or white. He made sure you were fed, kept warm and content.
There had been a brief few hours of the day when he had to be in his home office to take some calls. But that had not been a problem. You had retired back into the guest room to take some much needed sleep, after not having had much the previous night. Then he had joined you in bed when the call was over.
He was also such a different lover when neither of you were intoxicated.
“The Gala is in three hours. Perhaps we should start to get dressed,” he whispers into your hair.
You straddle him, your head on his wide chest and one leg intertwined between his. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and nip at jaw. “Too early. Another hour,” you murmur, your hand already stroking his half hard cock.
The laugh rumbles like an impending thunderstorm. Seokjin had never anticipated how much he enjoyed having another presence in this large, empty void he occasionally called home. He had often felt a sense of dread leaving the office building knowing that he would be away from people and back alone for the next few hours until he could return to work. He liked the feeling of warmth having you in his arms; having somebody to enjoy his cooking; having somebody to share the mundane tasks of everyday life.
He has to make an effort to remove you from him despite the yearning as aftereffects of your teasing. Brushing your hair away from your eyes, he places a delicate kiss on the tip of your nose.
“I might not need three, but from our dry run I’ll suggest that you utilize all the time you have,” he says.
You roll over onto your stomach all the while watching as he stands up, previous sheets sliding past his lean torso and revealing him in his entirety. He nearly hops back into bed when he meets your dilated pupils filled with carnal hunger. “I’m going to take a shower,” he says with finality.
Groaning loudly to complain at him for leaving a cold pocket of air in the once warm sheets, you flip back onto your back. You grope blindly at the bedside tables until you find one of his shirts to cover yourself with. Your body shivers when your feet hits the icy floors. You pad over to where you had left your phone charging near the kitchen table and turn it on for the first time since it had died last night.
Your heart does a triple flip when you see the amount of missed calls and texts from Taehyung. Shit.
He picks up on the third ring.
“Taehyung,” you gush immediately.
He sounds tired when he answers. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see this until now; my phone had died last night.”
“That’s okay,” he clips the words.
“A-Are you okay?” you return the question. “You said you had something important to talk to me about.” He is not talking to you like he normally does, and that worries you. Something had definitely happened.
“I did. But it’s resolved now. Where were you last night?”
You know that he is genuinely upset at something, whether that something be that you had left him alone for dinner, so you cannot even lie at your whereabouts. You begin to chew at your fingernails as you tell him, “Seokjin called me last night. It was an emergency; he needed me to help him with something. But he’s okay now. And guess what, Tae? He offered me a permanent job! Looks like I’m sticking around just a little bit longer.”
“Huh,” he says. He remains distracted and distant on the call. “Fei is calling me right now. We can talk later.”
“I’ll be at the Silver Gala with Seokjin. I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“Right. That’s tonight. Have fun.”
“Okay, bye, Tae. Tomorrow, I promise.”
You are met with the end tone of the call. You wince when you hit a sensitive part of your nail bed.
...
There is barely enough time for you to breathe, let alone think about the situation between you and Taehyung, and you and Seokjin.
You are wrapped up in the whirlwind event of the Silver Gala. It passes without a hitch. You act like the perfect arm candy of young playboy (?) worldwide handsome CEO of DailyHive. Despite all the warnings, you are however unprepared to face the hurricane of comments that arise from the night’s events.
Junho had planned for a few reporters to comment on Seokjin’s plain-Jane date. He did not expect the paparazzi to dig into anything deeper and start rumours about the mysterious woman by the side of Kim Seokjin. He did not expect to see blurry photos of the two of them playing golf at his birthday party a week prior.
Nobody expected you to be named his girlfriend.
You hate the attention that it brings. In particular, you hate the whispers from all the coworkers and the stares whenever you enter into the office alone. Just a few days ago, you had walked in on a particularly distasteful conversation in the lunchroom.
“Why would he take her of all people?” you hear someone whisper, oblivious to the fact that you are walking down the hall towards then.
“She tried to fuck my boyfriend.” This voice you do recognize as Fei’s.
“Really? Did you hear she’s got a job offer here? Do you think she’s trying to sleep her way up? You’d better keep an eye out on Taehyung then.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let that slut run her way through here. Not again.”
That last sentence had been said straight to your face. You knew Fei hated you. You just couldn’t be bothered anymore.
You have not spoken to Seokjin since the articles have been released and instead partake in your meals on the roof where not a single soul dares to go in fear of the unrelenting summer sun.
Despite it all, you cannot help but feel a little sorry for him. You were a nobody, and so the dirt that the tabloids had dug up were really quite more like dustballs compared to the information about Seokjin. You know it must be hard for him to have his life scrutinized 24/7. It cannot be easy to have every single action picked apart for some sort of deeper meaning. That daily stress can make even the nicest person a bratty annoying SOB.
It still sucks that you’re a part of it though.
These are the thoughts that occupy your mind and make you unaware of the argument that has unfolded in the conference room.
Having always been looking for your faults, she did not falter when presented with the opportunity to use you as a scapegoat.
“This is extremely unfair. She’s just an intern and she should not have a say in decisions like these,” Fei says, her voice raising, “She’s going to be gone next week anyways.
Your attention snaps up towards them. A few minutes ago, Seokjin had asked for your opinion regarding DailyHive’s upcoming year development plan. You want to correct her in saying that it’s technically the week after that. Additionally, there is the fact that you would return after.
Seokjin sits a little straighter in his chair. “I don’t understand what Y/N has got to do with any of this. The issue I have is with your – ”
Fei does not let him finish. “You’re being prejudiced because the two of you are dating.”
The whole room watches this encounter with their breaths on hold. Taehyung lifts his gaze from his silent spot across from you.
At once, the two of you stand and shout, “No.” and “Oh my god, you’ve got it wrong!’ simultaneously.
Flustered, you begin to explain yourself. It is one to ignore your co-worker’s comments and the nuisance of the tabloids, but you at least wanted to clear any misunderstanding with Seokjin,
“He and I aren’t dating. We’re strictly in a boss and intern level relationship.” Seokjin follows this with, “Exactly. Besides, I’d be doing her and her family a favour if we were.”
This shuts you up.
“She’s old, first of all. She’d be lucky to have a younger, handsome man by her side. Secondly, it’s not like her family’s made of gold. If we were to date, I’d clearly be the one paying for everything. And imagine if we were to eventually become married! She could never afford so anything on her measly salary. Everything would definitely be coming out of my pocket.”
All the words tumble out even as his mind desperately pumps the brakes.
“I’m above that.”
There is silence in the room following the outburst. More eyes are on you than he, and they continue to watch you as you slowly rise from your seat.
“Above that?” you mutter, turning your back to the room after firmly closing your laptop to place in your bag. You hear the sound of the scraping of a chair from somewhere behind.
“She’s just an intern.”
You zip your bag, your fingers shaking with the effort to not big the whole damn thing up to throw it across the table. When you turn around, you see that Taehyung has risen from his seat while Seokjin has sat back down on his own.
“Excuse me,” you say, your voice wobbling, “Might I remind you that she is right here, and she thinks you’re a total jackass, Mr. Kim.” His name hisses from between your teeth like a whistle. “You may have money. You may own a big fancy house with expensive furniture and a whole array of million dollar pieces in your closet. But you are not above me.”
He does not meet your harsh glare.
“You know what? This entire company sucks. I might just be an intern, but I still believe that I should be treated with the same level of respect and courtesy given to any as basic human rights. So screw you. And while I’m at this? Screw you too, Fei. You suck the most. Good fucking riddance to everyone.”
...
You have been wandering the streets, still very much annoyed and heated from your outburst. You have ignored Taehyung’s calls and even Jimin’s who strangely knew to call you.
So now you are jobless (or very likely jobless). And even though you want to feel and live off the anger, the emotion that overwhelms you the most is your guilt. Because you know everything he had said about you is right.
What if you had just tried harder?
He is above you.
Would your life still be this miserable?
God, why had you ever thought that maybe he cared.
You only wanted a simple life. Was that too much to ask for?
Fate played you like a doll with your one act role as Cinderella that night.
You are a nobody.
You plop down at a park bench, blocks away from the office. And you had been so close to finishing that contract too.
Add that to your growing list of failures.
You might as well begin job searching again because you highly doubt that job offer still stands.
Your phone buzzes again with an incoming call.
“I didn’t think you still cared, Tae,” you say without even looking when picking up.
“Jesus, Y/N,” there is obvious relief in his voice, “I thought something had happened you. You’ve been gone for two hours already. And why wouldn’t I care about you?”
“Does it matter? Just pack my things for me. I’ll pick them up from you some time this weekend,” you say. The reality of your actions have finally settled, and the reality is truly devastating.
“Come back. Fei was out of line there. I don’t think even Mr. Kim would let something like that slide.”
You want to tell him that Fei is not the true problem, but you are too tired to make that correction. Instead, you say, “I’m old. I’m also tragically single. And you know what? I haven’t told you this but the flat I live at isn’t even truly mine. My parents are the one paying for it because the best thing I could afford was being roommates with some college kid who I’m sure sold drugs on the side. I think I needed a reality check. It was a harsh one, but if I don’t start achieving something of my own soon. I don’t know.
I’ll be worthless.”
You close your eyes.
“I’m fine. Thanks for checking up on me, Tae,” you say at last, doing your best to sound perkier, “If you’re talking with Jimin apologize on my behalf. I don’t think I will be the next Zuckerberg. He can continue having his information stolen from Facebook instead of me.”
Staring at the blank screen of you phone, you have hung up before you can listen to another attempt at consolation. A big fat droplet of water splashes and smears over your screen. It lights up.
I saw you on the Internet! Are you really dating the CEO of DailyHive?? BTW, this is Kiko!!
You huff.
Another droplet of water falls, hitting your face this time.
As if life couldn’t get any shittier, there is a sudden onset of rain. The sun quickly disappears behind the clouds.
You had wanted a movie. Life gave you a mockery of Cinderella, and now your classic drenched k-drama protagonist in the rain. Hey, Controller of Destiny, would it be too much right now to ask for the male lead to swoop in with an umbrella?
“You look like a drenched rat,” you hear a voice say. His voice sounds distant and muffled.
Looking up, you see a stranger holding an umbrella over your head. In his other hand, he holds out a phone currently connected to a call.
“Seokjin?” you ask into the open.
“You could have picked a further place to run to if you really were trying to run away,” he says over speakerphone. “Come into the car. Your health benefits don’t exactly kick in until later.”
Following Seokjin’s chauffeur to the black limousine parked only a minute’s walk at the park’s entrance to which you had been sitting at, you muse at the turn of events. Even a k-drama metaphor is apparently too good for you.
Seokjin hands you a handkerchief when you finally sit down beside him. “It probably wasn’t in any of our best interest that I said all of those things,” he mutters quietly.
You raise an eyebrow and say with a tilt of your lips, “Huh, you think? Was it also too much work to just come and offer me an umbrella yourself?” You work to dry your rain-soaked hair, but end up looking more and more like a wet dog.
He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “This is a very expensive suit, you know? It shouldn’t really get wet.”
Sighing, you turn to him. “Are you here for a particular reason or should I just get back out into the rain. I’m probably also drenching these leather seats.”
He contemplates something and then reaches into his breast pocket. He hands over a small box to you. It weighs in your palm like a paperweight.
“Is this your version of an apology?”
He snorts. “As if. I’m just saying – and purely stating a fact here – that it probably wouldn’t be that bad if somebody were to date you. You’re somewhat pleasing to the eye; you’re mostly hardworking and you can be useful to have around.”
He does not add that last night, he had dreamt he was that somebody.
“Also,” the next words take a while to form on his lips, “I’m regretful of the things I said earlier at the office.”
You cannot help but feel a smile tug upon hearing the strange words that are coming out of his mouth.
“God help us all if that’s what you think an apology is.”
“Open it.”
You sigh and unravel the string. In the center of the packing is a golf ball, with your initials monogrammed onto it.
“What’s this?” you ask.
He clears his throat. “I had Yerin run the paperwork so we can get started with your onboarding. I saw that today is your birthday.”
“I didn’t know you cared so much about your interns, Kim Seokjin,” you say. The smile refuses to leave your face as you turn the golf ball around in your hands.
“Fine. I saw Taehyung leave something on your desk this morning,” he finally admits.
“We’ll work on your apology. But okay. Consider your regret noted at this moment.”
He gestures to the chauffeur to start the car. From outside the vehicle, the rain dissipates. Once again, there is warmth in the air and a glow from the sun as it emerges from behind the clouds.
“Um, Seokjin. The office is the other way. You might need to hire a new chauffeur,” you say. Your shared office building grows smaller in the distance.
The scene begins to fade like the epilogue of a movie.
Seokjin leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. “I know. I just thought, screw the company. Let’s go play a real game of golf.”
You lean back, holding the golf ball close in your lap.
Maybe, your 29+1 might not be so bad after all.
#bts#seokjin#jin#taehyung#bts fanfic#seokjin fanfic#jin fanfic#taehyung fanfic#bts imagines#seokjin imagines#jin imagines#taehyung imagines#bts scenarios#seokjin scenarios#jin scenarios#taehyung scenarios#bts fluff#bts smut#bts x reader#seokjin x reader#taehyung x reader#namjoon#jimin#jungkook#yoongi#hoseok
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if i was your partner... I'd take you on a date to the county fair. I know you have a sweet tooth, and I promise to buy you whatever you want. When we get there, we haven't had dinner yet so we get a big meal of hamburgers and hot dogs, and some fried dough and cotton candy for you. I tell you I want to take a lap around the fair to see what rides there are, and get you as many treats as you want. Ice cream, churros, sodas and milkshakes all end up in your belly... 1/?
I’ve never been to a fair/amusement park or anything so when my beloved suggests we go I’m excited. Since I was a child, I’ve always wanted to go to these things because friends that have gone always have such cool stories about the rides or cute ones about laughing and having fun with their dates. Also…the occasional fair food item sounds delicious.
At the same time, I’m wary of the food because I’ve eaten stuff like ice cream, churros, milkshakes, and hot dogs before. Not at a fair setting and definitely not all in the same day. Past experience tells me that these are the kinds of foods that give me a queasy tummy ache individually. The idea of eating them all in the same day has me apprehensive. Absentmindedly, I press my hands to my tummy as though guarding it from the thought of such a nasty ache.
The day of the fair arrives and excitement has given way to nerves and those nerves have gone straight to my stomach. As we get out of the car and approach the fair grounds my stomach clenches and does flips. An empty growl splits the air but peters off into an inaudible, nauseous burble. I haven’t eaten much since you told me about our visit to the fair. The thought of fair-food filled me with dread since I knew we were coming and I guess I subconsciously lost my appetite in preparation…to try to give the fair-food a blank slate as though in hopes it’ll hurt less if it’s just the fair-food bouncing around in my gut. I rub my tummy with both hands, squeezing my eyes shut against the sensations rolling within it. I want to bolt. I want to go home. It’s like my tummy knows exactly where we are going and knows it’s in for something nasty.
I toy with the idea of asking that we just go on rides. I try to formulate the words, to make up a reason why I won’t be eating anything at the fair. Variations of “my tummy’s upset” or “I ate earlier and I’m full” come to mind. The latter wouldn’t be something I could fool you with. We’ve been together the whole day and you know naught but water has passed my lips all day. If my stomach weren’t sickeningly empty, I would definitely have thrown up by now. The anxiety of the impending situation twists in my gut, and I feel like a solid mass is forming inside my hollow gut…an imagined mass that sends urgent “puke” signals to my brain. I feel my stomach muscles convulse and I squeeze my eyes shut as it snarls again.
Your hand comes to my stomach and jolts me out of my thoughts.
“Aww…hungry?” You say as you pat my stomach through my clothes. You heard the hunger part of the growl and you took my hands on my tummy as a sign of a hunger pang. Or so I think.
“Uhm…n-not exac—"
“They sell food in there. Let’s grab some hotdogs before we check out the rides.” You pat your own stomach, triggering a growl that has no hint of nausea in it. “I’m hungry too.”
My stomach burbles as you all but push me forward, walking us to the entrance of the grounds. Each step brings the thought, “dead man (stomach) walking”. I had opted to eat less/not at all in preparation for this day because I didn’t want to come to the grounds with an upset tummy. My own stupid anxiety over what this kind of food does to me foiled that plan. If I had known my stomach would be upset entering the grounds regardless of whether or not I had eaten anything I would have just eaten something rather than endure hunger for so long.
“Uhm…d-darling? Hotdogs…uhm…y-you know what hot dogs do to my stom—”
“Ooh! Chilli-dogs! Yeah, those beat hot-dogs any day. We’re getting some!” It’s like you didn’t hear me. Tears prickle my lashes as I realize you’ve cut off all my attempts at telling you something is wrong. I open my mouth again but the glint in your eye shuts me up.
You know. The way your hand is snaked around my waist and how your palm is pressed up against my tummy is a new clue. The gentle, subtle rubs you’re giving me, that I haven’t noticed until now—you’ve done similar motions before. When I lost a dear family member you made those same motions on the back of my neck and on my shoulder when you put your arm around me. It’s your go to ‘comforting’ move. You know what’s on my mind. You know how upset my tummy is. You know I’m anxious about the impending stomach ache. And I know about your fascination with my stomach; we aren’t just here for the fair.
“Let’s walk and eat. Fair grounds are huge and I don’t know exactly what rides they have this year. Let’s do a lap, or two, and fill our tummies with all the different food as we narrow down which ones we want to go on.”
You’re still rubbing lazy circles on my tummy. Your voice and the gentle rubs slowly bring me out of my own head and the tight vice-like coil of anxiety in my gut unclenches just a little. The anxiety lessens just enough for a hungry growl to squeeze out. You know exactly what rides are offered. You studied the pamphlet thoroughly and I know for a fact you have a ranking order of your favorite rides. You love the fair and are a seasoned fair-goer. The walk is for my benefit. Suggesting two laps and suggesting that we slowly fill our bellies is entirely for the sake of my tummy. Starting at the fair with an already upset tummy wasn’t in the plan. You don’t just want to deal with an anxious tummy or a sickly one…the food and the fair-experience are part of your script for tonight. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. If I let myself throw up it’s all over—that’ll be the end of the night. I don’t want to rob you of your opportunity to enjoy the fair. It only happens once a year. I don’t want to imagine having to deal with an entire year of an anxiety-induced stomach ache—knowing that you’ll try again next year.
“O-Okay…uhm…c-could we just split the food? I-I just want a bite or two of everything.” I pat my tummy. “You know my capacity is garbage.” You grin.
“Sure! One large chili-dog it is. Wanna choose what flavor milkshake we get? Oh, and the churros at one particular truck are to die for—you gotta try ‘em!”
And…we’re off. Your hand slides away from my waist and takes my hand instead as you pull me into the fair. I slide a reassuring hand on my tummy, hidden behind my messenger-bag. I rub my tummy gently, trying to quell the upset.
2/? ... and by the time we're ready to ride a ride, I can hear your tummy grumbling noisily. I ask if you're okay, and you insist, though you look a bit nauseous. We end up on the Tilt-A-Whirl, and afterwards, your stomach is louder than ever. I ask if you're hungry, if maybe that'll help your loud, bloated aching belly, and you say yes. More treats end up in your tummy, until its aching so bad you can barely stand...
A large chili-dog, a sub-par burger, and a churro have disappeared between both our guts and I’m currently polishing off the large choco-banana milkshake we ordered. Sure, you had most of the chili-dog and the burger was because you were still hungry—I’ve let you have the lion’s share of the solid foods. I meant to let you have most of the milkshake too, but you’ve been sneakily finding ways to have it end up in my hands and to my lips.
My stomach is comfortable right now. There’s a barely-there queasiness in it but it’s slight enough to be ignored. It’s quite noisy though, churning away as it tries to break down what’s gone into it. You’ve been rubbing my tummy as we’ve been walking for the last ten minutes or so and I’m sure your rubs are the only reason my stomach is comfortable right now. Without the rubs, a normal fast-food combo has been enough to give me a twisting ache in my gut, enough to get me to cry and dash off to a bathroom to be rid of the mess.
“Oh, hey! Let’s go on that!” You gesture to the roller-coaster we’ve arrived at. I’ve never been on one. “Oh…damn…no drinks allowed on it.”
I raise my eyebrow quizzically as I rattle the empty milkshake cup. You offer a sheepish smile and hold up a full cup of cola you’ve been clutching in your other hand. “Came with the burger. Could’ja help? My tummy’s gettin’ kinda full.” You place a hand on your slightly rounded tummy.
Sure, it’s only cola…but neither of us is in the habit of wasting food. Steeling my nerves, I grab the cola and begin to suck at the straw, taking it down in gulps and thanking the heavens that it’s small as far as beverage containers go.
You pat my grumbling tummy as I finish the cola, forcing a sharp belch to pass my lips. “You didn’t have to chug it, we could have come back.” You coo as you continue to pat and rub my tummy. I groan, realizing my stupidity. My stomach sloshes sickeningly and rumbles violently at the sudden addition.
“Nah. We’ve already done two laps around the grounds. If we’re going to ride anything now’s the time.” A part of me just wants this night to be over. That cola pushed the discomfort meter in my gut higher. There’s a tight pressure inside of me right now and I want to believe it’s just the carbonation from the cola.
We share a car in the roller coaster. I grip the bar. Do not throw up. Do not throw up. Do not throw up. Repeats like a mantra in my head. Just as the coaster starts rolling, you release the bar and put both hands on my gut. You knead into my tummy, forcing burps out as I grip the rail tightly for the both of us. We have seatbelts and all that…the bar is just there for an extra level of safety. You’re experienced, you know we won’t fall even if we aren’t white-knuckling it so you put your hands to a different use. Each loop and sharp turn of the coaster causes your grip on my tummy to tighten. A particularly sharp turn sends your entire form slamming against me and your elbow meets my stomach and has me feeling something wet surge up my esophagus but I fight it down. You’ve managed to get most of the gas out of my tummy before the big loop of the coaster, at which point you offer one last pat to my tummy and turn to face forward properly. My stomach churns as we slow and watch the looming loop seeming to creep up on us. As we crawl up the loop my own hands clutch my tummy and I begin to squeeze, short and small burps burble out of me. You raise an eyebrow but are more fixated on the coaster. I want the gas out. I don’t want the inversion to cause a burp to bring up something else when we’re completely upside-down.
As we climb out of the coaster all that is left in my gut is a dense mass of thick sludge swirling around in a lake of cola. Some of the milk from the shake most definitely curdled in the acid bath of the cola. I let out a few moans as I walk and my hands have not left my tummy since we got off. I cradle my churning gut as I make my way to a miraculously empty bench.
“Babe, you okay?” Concern colors your voice as you skip after me. I need a few minutes for my stomach to re-orient itself. I can feel the thick sludge swimming in my gut and it is not a pleasant feeling. The squeals and whines from my gut betray that it doesn’t like the sensations either.
You’ve disappeared and I’m too absorbed in the activity in my tummy to care. Bathroom break, maybe. I press into my tummy cautiously, wincing at the churning grumble that is pushed forth from it. I can’t help but groan under my breath. My stomach really sick. I feel like it’s a sack of vomit churning violently rather than a stomach at this point.
I hear the crinkle of paper and I open my eyes. Something crisp and golden is shoved into my face as though you are presenting me with a bouquet of flowers.
“Is that?” My eyes widen.
“Yup! A Bloomin’ Onion! I saw a stall selling ‘em while we were on the coaster.” You announce proudly as you plop yourself down next to me.
Eagerly, I reach to tear off a piece of the treat, my nauseous tummy forgotten.
“I thought you’d need something to settle your stomach and maybe absorb some of the mess in there.” You pat my noisily churning tummy. “A-also…you’ve always wanted to try this thing, right? ‘cuz you love onion rings.”
“Mmph.” I give you an affirmative grunt as my mouth is full of the treat. You giggle and tear off some for yourself.
Once the onion has disappeared between the two of us my stomach is feeling moderately better. I’ve eaten most of it. I’ll definitely come to regret putting something so oily down the hatch, but I take your hand and suggest more rides before it has time to bloom into a full-blown sickly ache. I’m resigned to it now. We’ve got precious few minutes before my stomach begins to literally belly-ache about what’s gone into it.
We arrive at your favorite, the Tilt-a-Whirl. Nothing will stop me from letting you enjoy this ride tonight. I hope my stomach gets the memo. As I hear the screams from the ride, I notice someone off to the side of it, hurling into a convenient trash bin. I grimace, willing that not to be me.
“Babe, you sure you’re up for this?” You’re worried. I take your hand as we get in the (thankfully) short line.
“Yeah. You love this ride. It’s fine.” My tummy grumbles deeply, sounding like a dying lawn mower or something.
You slide your hands around my waist, rubbing and patting at the upset vat that is my stomach. Your hands are magic. By the time we’re at the front of the line my stomach is still churning, and aching, but not as violently as it was before. There’s a very present ache in my guts but it’s just under the threshold between a full-blown stomach ache and something that could just be classified as discomfort.
The seatbelt is tight against my tummy and I have doubts, almost caving and telling the staff I’ve changed my mind and to let me off before the ride has even begun. As the cup spins the centrifugal force causes the belt to cut into my stomach jostling it every which way. I grow steadily more and more nauseous as the ride goes on. I don’t have your miracle hands on my tummy and that thought is enough to make me want to cry. Seeking some escapism, I let my mind wander as I try to focus on anything but the violent churning in my tummy. This ride has accomplished in thirty seconds what it took your hands thirty minutes to fix.
I imagine how this ride looks from above. It must look pretty cool—my thoughts are interrupted by a new one: how this ride looks from above is how my stomach feels right now. Uneven, unpredictable churning with little bits seeming to churn within the mess. Yeah, the inventor of this thing must have seen some cruel irony in fabricating a ride that was an external representation of what it was causing internally.
When the ride ends I practically stumble into you. You laugh, dizzy yourself, and we move together. I’m leaning on you, whimpering and clutching at my distressed tummy. I can feel it. I want to throw up. The vomit signals are very strong but it feels like one of the chunks of curdled whatever has blocked the path to my esophagus. My stomach convulses and I whine as it grumbles angrily.
Your hand comes to my tummy. “Aww…baby…you hungry? The most of a solid thing you’ve eaten today has been that onion. Maybe something more solid in your tummy will calm it down?”
I can no longer tell if you’re sticking to your kink-script or if you genuinely believe my sickly tummy is in need of some proper sustenance. My stomach feels too awful to care so I let you lead me by the hand wherever it is you want us to go.
I don’t protest when something is shoved into my hands. You tell me to eat and I mechanically bring it to my mouth and take bites. I don’t even know what it is you’re making me eat, but many different treats disappear into my tummy. I think there was a burrito of some sort at one point. At least two different churros have made an appearance too. A slice of pizza, dripping with grease, is definitely one of the items if the layer of grease floating in my gut is any indication.
“Ergh…ugh…” I curl, bringing my knees up and sandwiching my arms over my belly. You led me to a sort of hidden bench. We’re kind of behind one of the tents for some carnival game and there’s tree-coverage around us. You wanted some privacy while you fed me and I’m grateful for it because I’m certain my stomach is about to spill out of my mouth and I do not want an audience. Upset doesn’t even begin to cover how bad it feels. I feel like I’ve swallowed lava and the molten mass is burning away my digestive organs. The lingering ‘discomfort’ of an ache threatening to bloom finally explodes and I curl up tightly, the added pressure not doing any favors for my poor, achy tummy. “Ugh…urp…n-no more…please? Ugh…babe…it hurts. My tummy hurts so, so much…” My stomach protests just vocally as I do.
I end up flopping over onto my side on the bench, knees still curled up to press my arms into my sickly belly. You guide me to make sure my head is on your lap. You try to get me to uncurl, to grant you access to my tummy, but my limbs refuse to budge so you settle on rubbing my side and back.
“Aww…baby…maybe a walk would settle your tummy?” Your voice is sickly sweet and I groan as it goes straight to my stomach, feeling like I just guzzled another cola.
“Umph…nuh-uh—nope. Not gunna.” I curl up, my tears soaking into the fabric on your lap as I whimper a little. I try to bring up a burp, desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure in my gut. Nothing comes up. I know there’s some in there—there has to be—but each time I clench my abdomen it feels like there’s something sickly blocking the path of the gas. If I were to really push it I could maybe clear the blockage…but I’d almost definitely end up vomiting all over your lap.
“Babe…how about that walk?” You suggest again and this time I glare at you from your lap. I glare at you and uncurl just a little. You can see the pain lancing through my eyes for a split second. I watch as your gaze travels to my gut and then I jab at it with a hand. I bite back the groan of pain so that you can hear the resulting rumble. The turbulent sounds from the jab continue for a few moments even as I curl up again.
“A walk? You kiddin’ me? My tummy hurts, babe. Hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it. I can’t even stand up straight ‘cuz my tummy is imploding; and you want me to walk?!”
I’m being curt with you. I know I am and I regret it even as the words spill from my mouth. It’s the stomach ache. I haven’t had such a nasty one in a very long time.
3/3 I feel terribly you're not feeling so well, and offer to help you to the car. You lean on me heavily, and I rub your aching belly as we make our way back to the car. I have to help you in, and the seatbelt barely fits over your round tummy. I rub it as we drive home, and carry you into our house where I'll nurse your tummy back to health... or maybe give you more snacks ;)
“Oh, baby…I’m sorry.” You’re genuinely sorry and that makes me feel even worse about snapping at you. I pull a hand out from its position on my tummy, reaching over to brush against your face, to apologize in some way.
A sharp cramp shoots through my unhappy tummy and I let out an exclamation of pain. It felt like I got punched, from the inside. I whimper and close my eyes, breaths labored as I clutch at my tummy again. My stomach convulses violently and you can tell that I’m trying very hard both to vomit and to keep it in me. The struggle exhausts me and it breaks your heart to see it go down.
The fit dies down after a while and I eventually lie still on your lap. My stomach continues to churn within me and you can hear the sickly burbling. You’ve taken to carding a hand through my hair and using your other hand to rub at whatever you can reach—arm, side, back. The shooting cramps die down somewhat and I manage to uncurl. I find your hand and guide it to my stomach and you rub it gently. I’m still biting back grunts with each breath but you can tell that your massage is slowly doing something for my sickly tummy.
“Do you think you can get to the car? I think we’re done here.”
I whimper, shaking my head and guiding your hand back to my tummy. “Not yet. Ugh…please?” I look at you, silently begging for more rubs. “If I get up now I’m gonna hurl.” You continue rubbing my tummy and we continue in our positions for a while.
My stomach is fairly distended. I usually don’t eat much in a single day and you managed to cram a whole lot of stuff I usually wouldn’t touch into me today. Sugar, fried foods, salt, milkshakes. This is stuff I only allow myself to indulge in a couple of times a year…and only one at a time, usually. Like…before meeting you I was the type to see a can of cola as a treat. That was my dessert quota for the day or week. After we got together the occasional scoop of ice-cream became another dessert option—but always only one scoop. This is our first time at the fair as a couple and you really let me have it. You gave me the ‘full’ experience in more ways than one and my tummy is suffering for it.
“Urp…ugh…nachos? When did I eat nachos?” You laugh at my observation, a sign that I’m doing a bit better.
“I think it was between the second burrito and the banana split.” You inform me as I sit up.
“Second? Banana…split?” I’m surprised. I know I was out of it when you were feeding me, too caught up in the agony swirling in my tummy, but I didn’t think I was that out of it. “Wait…when was the pizza?” You laugh at my dumbfounded expression.
“I only gave you a few bites of the banana split ‘cuz I wanted it…and ‘cuz it looked like you were going to be sick at that point. You ate a whole slice of that pizza before the ice-cream.” My stomach burbles as it’s reminded and I put a hand on it.
“I don’t think that qualified as pizza. It feels like it was grease with a side of dough and cheese.” I groan, patting my tummy gently and rubbing up and down slightly. I still feel sick but the crippling ache has subsided…for now.
I take your hand and get up off the bench. You’re up immediately and drag one of my arms over to rest around your shoulders. We stumble our way toward the exit with your hands resting on my waist. My other hand on my belly is more to support the extra weight while yours provide some much-needed rubs. It’s a team effort to get to the car in my state.
You help me into the passenger seat as I moan. The cramps are building in intensity. You fasten my seatbelt and I almost push you off when you put too much pressure leaning over me to get the thing buckled. Now that I am sitting up my belly is really prominently distended. As you back up I immediately recline the seat, giving my belly some much needed room.
“Do not throw up in the car.” You admonish.
“Urgh…urp…ulp…ugh…no promises.” I whimper. You close the door and the impact jostles my belly. I clutch at it with a groan, swallowing back something thick and wet.
It’s a long drive back home. I’m reclined as far as the seat will go. You have one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing absentmindedly over the crest of my tummy when it’s not needed to steer or shift gears or whatever.
A part of you feels horrible for what we have done tonight. While both of us are into tummies, this is the first time we’ve ever done something like this. We’ve done some minor stuffings before. We’ve done other things in the realm of tummy kink before. This is a first where you stuffed me with foods that would normally cause me great distress all on their own and you decided to cram them all into me in the span of six hours.
I’m lost to the pain as we pull up to our place. I’m in the same incoherent state I was in when you fed me all those things I didn’t register. Gently, you unbuckle the seatbelt, guiding it home so that it doesn’t have a chance to upset my belly further. I groan and nearly lose my gorge as you slide your arms under my back and my knees and lift me out of the car with a massive heave.
The vertigo goes right to my tummy and I’m a groaning mess as you whisper reassurances at me. We’re almost home. Don’t throw up on you. Etc.
You set me on the couch. The bedroom is too far a walk and you don’t want to risk dropping me. The extra weight of all that indigestion is more than you anticipated.
I can’t move. My tummy is pinning me down and the threat of vomiting is extreme. I feel like a thermometer or something with the sludge going up and down my esophagus.
You set a bin within reach of me before disappearing to the kitchen. I whimper, wishing I could call out. I need your hands on my belly. I feel so sick.
I hear clattering in the kitchen. The tell-tale signs of something being microwaved. I hope it’s a heat pack or something even if the added pressure of it is sure to make me vomit. You return with a plate of pizza bites and my stomach pulls a move where it feels like it’s trying to drop out of me and run. I can’t move. I’m too full, too sick, and in too much pain. I only hope you have a night of rubs planned and that you’ve got a hair-tie somewhere ‘cuz there is no way this night ends without me throwing up.
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Please don´t die on me... Please
AN: This is my entry for @some-piece ´s 2.5k Follower celebration.
My prompt is the title of this fic and I chose a
Platonic! Killer X Reader pairing.
Wordcount : around 1.1 k
Warnings: Battle, angst , cursing (its the kid´s pirates: duh.)
I HOPE IT IS UNDERSTANDABLE its like 10pm here and work is hell, so my brain sometimes does not really work grammar wise.
The Damage was heavy and the Victoria Punk was barely able to stay afloat since the battle started a day ago.
It all began during their stay at the last island almost a week in the past. The crew had been drinking and partying at this little bar at the edge of town for most of the day.
Killer and Heat had gotten into a drinking match that resulted in the later burping flames at one point. This paired with his love for spicy food quickly turned into a “hot” situation: the capsaicin contained in the Chili turned his breath, and therefor his flames, into bio-hazard weapon.
Because of this very reason he was banned from drinking a lot of booze while being on the sea.
The first time this happened, the men of the crew decided to try and use it to their advantage.
It failed. Horribly so. Why? His aim was off because of the alcohol concentration within his bloodstream and he burned everything down except his targets.
One of the things he burned was you.
And ohh did you not like it. You were furious and it took Killer, Wire and the Captain to get you off him. But not without getting themselves a few bumps and bruises as well. They had played their own part in the incident after all.
Now back to the situation at hand. “Captain Shakesbeer, it is a long way back to the island I hope it was worth it attacking us over just some burned hair.”, you growled down at the opposing captain who was kneeling on his deck, before jumping in the air and destroying the ship with one last haki-fueled punch.
“Now back to you lot!”, you hissed, eyeing every single male with squinted eyes, “Think about a good story you can tell me as an excuse as to why this all had to happen. I will go and make me something to drink.”
A bunch of bruised and scratched faces nodded in understanding, with not even Captain Kidd daring to bring one of his many “I am the Captain” speeches. He knew better than to argue when you were pissed and in need of something to drink.
But it would never come to that: stepping into the kitchen you froze. It had gotten damaged during the battle, the ceiling and walls had multiple holes caused by canon balls and the kitchen was in more chaos than after a drunken brawl between Captain Kidd and Killer.
You sighed, it would be a lot of work to get the kitchen back to how it was before and you cursed yourself for sinking the other ship. You could have made Captain Kidd and the others transfer the kitchen (at least what was working) to the Victoria Punk and maybe get an upgrade out of it.
But you couldn´t even think about running back on deck to see if there might be some way to salvage the wreck, because it was that moment you saw what you feared to see: Your savior in this world of drunken idiots, cruel pirates, and unpredictable weather laying between the rubble of what was once the thick oaken table that had survived far to many fights between the crew.
A screamed filled with pain and grief left your lungs and you sunk to your knees.
“no no no no no!!!”, you cursed, injuring your hands and legs trying to get the rubble out of your way.
Splinters embedded into the palms of your hands. But you did not care. You needed to save your comrade. You owed it. You couldn´t survive one day on this ship without the help you received.
While you scrambled and cursed you were fixated on the meekly shimmering lights of life you could still see, and the broken noises that reached your ears.
“Please”, you sobbed, “Please don´t die on me...Please.”
But no pleading and cursing helped, the second your fingertips touched the cold body of Winston, the lights went dark and no noise reached your ears. He was dead, and you couldnt do anything to help.
“NO!!!”, you sobbed in agony, your fists hitting the ground beneath you in anger.
Until strong, yet gentle hands grabbed your wrists and pulled you against his chest.
“Shh. Calm down, (y/n).”, Killer hummed. He was your closest friend on the Victoria Punk. The one you talked to whenever something (or someone) was on your mind. He was the one you would entrust with shopping for you on islands whenever you had watch, and he was the one you snuggled against when the crew went out for a night of drinks and you were to tired / drunk to keep going. It went so far that the crew joked you were together. But in reality, you were more like twins, two sides of the same coin.
“What´s wrong? Are you injured?”, he asked, worry clearly edging into his voice.
“NO. Well yes, but … WINSTOOOOOOOON!”, you sobbed, “He is dead! And I couldn´t do anything to help.”
A sigh left his chest and a small chuckle followed. He had feared the worst when he had heard your scream and then found you in that state.
“Winston. You are crying and screaming like this because of Winston?”, he asked for clarification.
“YES!! He is the only thing that helped me stay sane during long bouts on the sea! And now he is dead. I can see his innards.”
“(Y/N).”, he hummed, “I bet Captain Kidd can revive him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. And I am sure it will be his top priority. And if not I am sure he, Heat and Wire will get you a new one.”
“NO! No one can replace Winston. He made the best hot cocoa ever! And the temperature for tea is always perfect. And don´t let me get started on the coffee….”
“(y/n). I bet there are machines out in the grand line that are just as good or even better. Just please: don´t cry and do not kill the Idiots before they were able to find one.”
“So it WERE those three who caused the trouble.”, you squinted, your pain over the lost of your morning beverage nearly forgotten, “They will life. At least until they got me a new coffee-machine. And it better be one worthy of a world-noble.”
A cold wave of haki pulsed through the ship, letting every single member of the crew shiver in discomfort.
“You want to go and see what is taking Killer so long to look after (y/n)?”, Heat asked his Captain on deck.
“Am I crazy? You heard her scream. And seeing that there is no fighting going on I assume the kitchen did not survive the battle. Captain would be crazy going there now. Better we wait for Killer to return and tell us what happened and in how much trouble we are.”, Wire mused and the other two nodded in acceptance. They all knew you needed your drink in the morning, and without… lets just say you were not known as the “Victorian Banshee” for no reason.
AN2.0: hihihihi, WHo would have thought about a small plotttwist like that happening? I hope thas was allowed, if not: my apologies !
So what do you think?
#2500 gremlins for bas#massacre soldier killer#kidd pirates#platonic relationships#killer x reader#one piece
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Christmas Gift
Apologies for a Christmas-themed story being a few weeks after the holidays. I hope you enjoy regardless
“I don’t care that it’s December 23rd! I’ll get them gifts eventually!”
“You better before Christmas or your presents are going to Goodwill!”
The Kolstit family wasn’t exactly your vision of a nuclear family. They had a mother, father and children, yes, but they didn’t behave like what you’d expect of a typical, american family. For one, they were an immigrant family from Ecuador. They had moved just about a decade ago, when Adam was 8. The family was hesitant at first, but with promises of a better life from relatives it was hard to pass up.
Now, the Kolstit family comprised of a mother, a father and three sons. The mother, Norma, was a kind woman, but strict on her children. She had deadlines for chores, high expectations for grades and above all wanted them prepared for the world on their own.
Her children didn’t really see that, especially the middle child, Adam. Adam was the child who got the most verbal smack from his mother, a result of his desire to “be one of the popular kids in school” as Norma put it. Adam tried to shirk off his responsibilities at home as much as possible in order to hang out with his friends or play football, better known as soccer amongst Adam’s peers. Norma had other ideas for her son, however, which usually involved him cleaning up around the house.
“I’m going out.” The dark-haired boy simply said as he walked out of the house with a ball in his hands, a blue soccer jersey and gray track pants on.
“Put on a jacket at least! It has to be near freezing out there!” Norma shouted as her child abandoned her cries. She shook her head and went back to preparing dinner.
Adam furiously walked away from his home. “Why does she always put so much pressure on me? I’m just a high school kid!” Adam thought to himself as he walked to an empty field.
The grass was stiff and cold, as if intimidated by the air. Two poles rested a few feet apart on one side of the field, the other side only having one pole. Dirt marked the playing field, the only place where there wasn’t a plentiful amount of grass. Rabbits scurried away as Adam approached, hiding back in their dens as a gust of wind blew the grass aside for them.
Adam sighed as he dropped the ball down and started to faintly tap it, slowly bouncing the sphere back and forth from each foot. He didn’t want his mother to hate him and he didn’t want to hate his mother. She was just so annoying sometimes. If he wanted to live his life one way why should she prevent that? Adam punted the ball down the field, hitting it right next to the singular pole. He imagined a crowd cheering as he scored a goal. He missed football season and wished it would return sooner. Unfortunately he had to wait another year for it, and Adam went back to weakly moving the ball across the field, moving slowly up and down as time passed by.
As the sky turned to a dim orange, Adam realized his time at the field was up and decided to head back home. As he went to leave the field, though, he felt incredibly tired and weak. He wasn’t sure why as he hadn’t really exerted himself. This was mostly to calm down and relax a bit. A huge gust of wind blew past Adam, causing his body to shiver from the chill. He saw a wooden bench and decided to sit down to regain his strength. When he sat down, though, Adam felt like he was going to pass out. He had fallen asleep at an airport before, and Adam figured sleeping on a park bench wouldn’t be much different, so he decided to lay down on the bench. “Maybe just a...quick nap…” Adam yawned before he crashed. Though before he closed his eyes Adam saw two figures approach him, as if they wanted something from him.
When Adam woke up he thought he was still asleep. It was so dark he couldn’t see his own nose. Plus, he was sitting up instead of lying down like he had been on the bench. Suddenly, a light turned on above him, though he still couldn’t really see farther than 5 feet away. Surrounded by darkness, Adam just decided to try to find his way out only to be stopped completely. He looked at his body and saw that he was tied down to a wooden chair, and tightly at that. Wriggling his wrists and legs, Adam tried to struggle against his restraints only to be met with no sign of them letting up.
A few moments later, after Adam had given up trying to get up, he heard footsteps in the dark. Out of adrenaline-driven fear, Adam cried out, “Who’s there?” A figure in what looked like a space suit emerged shortly after, holding some kind of syringe in his hand. “Just sit still and this’ll go by quickly.” They said, with a voice muffled through their helmet. It was almost like they were directly out of a sci-fi film which gave Adam hope that this was just a dream.
Adam decided to listen to the strangely suited figure, whether that be out of fear or his own will. He felt the syringe pierce his skin as whatever was inside flowed into his bloodstream and eventually the rest of his body. After that, the person walked away and left Adam alone in the dark once more. Adam wasn’t sure what was happening, but after a few minutes of being alone again he felt his tummy rumble. How long had he been out? Long enough to go without a meal, clearly, but how long was that? A few hours? Half of the day? An entire day? Adam was really worried now, especially since nobody knew where he was.
Eventually the grumbling of his stomach grounded Adam’s mind, bringing him back to reality. And reality smelled pretty good, almost like a feast prepared on Christmas Eve. Just as Adam thought it, the lights turned on and before him laid a table filled with food you’d see a family eat for a holiday celebration. Stuffing, mashed potatoes and slices of ham lay across the table on many plates. Fried chicken, french fries and spaghetti were even on the table, to Adam’s surprise. His family usually ate those things as a tradition so it was something pleasant he wasn’t expecting. Near his hands, a tall glass of milk was set, as a drink for the meal Adam assumed. In the middle, a giant, stuffed turkey laid ready to be cut. It took up twice as much space as other plates did, and just the smell of it nearly made Adam drool.
Then, to Adam’s further surprise, the restraints were undone around his hands. Immediately, Adam reached down to undo the ones on his legs, but a voice overhead said, “I wouldn’t try that if I were you.” Adam stopped, his body jumping in shock of hearing the booming voice. “W-what do you want with me?” Adam tried to ask. There was a pause before the voice responded with, “Just eat your feast and then we’ll talk.” Then, silence. Silence only to be broken by Adam’s stomach growling in hunger.
Adam decided he might as well eat, if only to survive and find out why he’s here. He grabbed the large serving spoon that was dipped in the mashed potatoes, trying to find a plate to set it on to eat. Finding no such plate, Adam decided to eat the mushy meal right from the spoon. Setting it in his mouth, Adam could taste an explosion of flavor. Whether it be from his starving appetite or the taste of the dish, Adam didn’t decide to question it and went right back in for more. Though, as he ate the potatoes Adam couldn’t help but notice a strong, buttery flavor. He shrugged it off, though, as he was hungry and the stuff tasted too good to deny eating it.
The other dishes continued in a similar fashion. The stuffing melted right in Adam’s mouth, melding right along with all of the other dishes to not only enhance them, but revamp their tastes completely. The ham was sweet, but seasoned in just the right way so it wasn’t overpowering. The chicken was fried to perfection, with the chicken still being moist beneath its flaky skin. The fries were similarly prepared, though they were covered with a decent amount of salt. His milk was creamy and delicious, but it didn’t take away from any of the dishes Adam ate. And the spaghetti was divine, being covered with parmesan cheese and a tomato sauce that Adam swore was from the ripest tomatoes.
After Adam finished all those dishes, he looked back to the table to see the giant turkey sitting, waiting for him. He decided now was as good a time as any, and decided to cut into the beast. Just like Adam expected, the turkey was phenomenal. The meat was still juicy and melted on his tongue. Adam kepting taking pieces off the turkey, not realizing how much of it he was eating. Only until the fork met the base of the plate did Adam notice his immense appetite. He had eaten the entire turkey without noticing.
Letting out a slight burp, Adam decided to sit back in his seat, expecting his bloated belly to take up a lot of space. However, when Adam leaned back he noticed his belly wasn’t as large as he had expected. It wasn’t as bloated, either. In fact it didn’t look bloated at all. Adam lifted up his jersey to find a tan, chubby belly where his flat stomach used to be, much farther off than he had expected. Adam put his jersey down and noticed the outlines of small moobs beneath his shirt and shorts that had much less space because of his thicker legs. Now nervous and scared of what would happen next, Adam tried to untie the restraints on his legs only to be forcefully pushed to the back of his seat by one of those space suited people. They tied his arms down again, Adam now regretting trying to make a move.
“Now you see our goal for you. You’ll eat and grow until we decide you stop.” The voice came back to ring overhead. Adam was now angry, in addition to his fear from before. He wouldn’t be able to play football if he was too fat, plus, no one would recognize him as a tub of lard. He had always been the lean, football player, not some food addicted fat ass. “Why do you want me fatter?!” Adam shouted at the ceiling. “Oh, you’ll find out later. For now eat like you did before.” And once again, there was silence after that.
Though Adam still did smell good food, the table was still empty. Out of the shadows to his left, a person dressed in the strange astronaut suit walked out, holding some kind of bowl. On the right, another person emerged, but they were holding a plate of ham. The one with the bowl lifted up a large serving spoon filled with mashed potatoes and held it to Adam’s mouth. “Eat.” The person bluntly demanded, nudging the spoon on Adam’s lips. The food smelled so good, but Adam didn’t want to grow any fatter.
Despite eating tons just minutes prior, Adam’s stomach let out a growl. Upset his stomach betrayed him, Adam felt it wasn’t long before he snapped under the pressure. Sure enough, he was taking the spoon in his mouth, swallowing the entire spoonful of mash before eagerly opening his mouth for more. Adam didn’t want to eat, but he was just so hungry he didn’t feel like he had a choice. A second after he opened his mouth, Adam tasted the other person shoving a forkful of ham into his mouth. He alternated bites from both of the people in front of him, not even realizing when they switched to a different food.
Eventually, the two people in suits stopped feeding Adam to let him drink some milk. Adam had been so enraptured with the food’s taste that he hadn’t been able to keep track of himself. He looked down to a terrifying view. His stomach had gotten so big it lifted his jersey up just above his belly button, the tan piece of flesh resting on his wider lap. Moobs were clearly outlined under his jersey, poking against the fabric. His shorts looked even more strained than before, basically stuck to the sides of his thighs. Adam couldn’t see behind him, but if he were able to he’d see that his shorts and undies had been pushed down from the added weight to his rear and they were close to revealing his crack.
Adam freaked out as he finished the milk. He desperately tried to get out, but again to no avail. His added weight tired him out further, too, making him struggle less than before. “Still concerned about your weight, it appears.” The voice rang overhead. It was quiet for a few moments, but the two people in suits came back with more food. One had a tray of cookies and one had a platter of pie. As Adam resisted their demands to eat, a loud ‘thunk’, followed by a ‘click’ was heard before he saw a movie being played on a television in front of him. It was just beyond the dining table, but large enough that Adam didn’t have to strain his eyes to watch.
“How about you relax by watching something while you eat.” The voice suggested before disappearing again. As Adam’s gaze turned towards the TV, he let his guard down long enough that the person with the cookies was able to sneak one into his mouth. The taste was divine and Adam knew resisting now was futile as his bigger stomach took the lead, forcing him to eat whatever was placed in front of him.
What Adam didn’t realize was the film he was watching was designed to alter him. There were short flashes of guys putting on weight and growing fatter. Some images were of guys who were already fat, enjoying themselves in luxurious lives. Quiet, almost inaudible messages saying things like “Grow bigger,” and “Fat is hot,” played throughout the film. Though, Adam wasn’t really to blame for not noticing. The entire point of these things was so Adam would subliminally start to desire to be fat and grow fatter and so he didn’t notice his mind was being changed to do so.
Two films and a lot of eating later and Adam was being fed more milk as a break from all the food. The TV switched off, bringing Adam back to reality. He remembered his situation and looked down at his body one again. His jersey could barely hold his body, his belly completely on show. It was so big it was starting to become divided into two rolls. This left his jersey to only cover his moobs, which looked like they would burst out if Adam put on any more weight. His shorts had split on his thighs, slowing becoming more and more undone as Adam put on more weight. His pants and underwear had been moved further down because of his growing ass which now showed off his plump butt crack, though he wasn’t aware.
However, Adam didn’t seem as worried when he saw his body. He looked at it for a few seconds before looking back up and saying, “I wonder if Melissa would like me like this. Maybe she’ll even feed me good food too.”
To his surprise, neither of the people in space suits responded, but the voice overhead replied with, “Who’s Melissa?” Adam, being more relaxed now, gave the voice an answer. “Melissa’s my girlfriend,” Adam started, “She’s really nice to me and I was hoping my body wouldn’t turn her off.” Adam told the voice. More quietly, he mumbled, “I hope she’s not worried about me.”
A few seconds passed with Adam figuring whoever the voice was had just left again, but Adam was surprised by the voice saying, “That’s strange. I don’t remember you liking girls.” Adam was puzzled. He had never said anything about his relationship, nor his romantic life, before talking about Melissa. “What do you mean? I’ve liked women for as long as I can remember.” Adam replied, and after a few seconds the voice further replied with, “No you don’t, Adam. You like men.”
Adam’s head was spinning. What were they talking about? What was even going on. “W-what are you talking about? I’m not gay.” Adam bluntly said. The voice replied more quickly now, saying, “It seems you’re flustered. Why don’t you watch some more movies and eat to calm down.”
The people in space suits, not giving Adam much choice, shoved a spoon of chocolate pudding into Adam’s mouth as the TV turned back on. Adam admitted defeat early, habitually opening his mouth for the other person to feed him a piece of cake.
Again, Adam didn’t realize that these movies were designed to manipulate his mind. All of the movies had incredibly attractive men cast as actors, with the actors becoming more important with each consecutive movie. And, once again, whispers of messages played in addition to the previous ones. Though this time the messages were saying things like “Men are sexy,” and “Don’t you just love when a hot guy takes off his shirt?” All the while, he was being fed by the two people in space suits, but Adam just ate like it was normal. He just habitually opened his mouth and chewed whenever something was placed in it, used to the process by now.
As one of the movie’s credits rolled, and Adam was being fed a large glass of milk, Adam realized he had just watched quite a few movies and figured he had been distracted for a long while. He looked down at his body, finding it harder to do so now, to see what the hours of eating had done to him. Adam first noticed his belly, which was now pooling into his lap, covering basically all of it. The tan mass of flesh nearly reached Adam’s knees and was now dividing itself into multiple rolls. The legs his belly rested on were quite thick to be able to hold the large, jiggly piece of fat. Adam’s thighs were nearly twice as wide as his waist was before he started eating and his legs weren’t far behind. Because of their size, Adam’s shorts had torn off during the movie, but he was too busy having his face stuffed to notice. His shirt had torn off too, allowing his large moobs to be on display. They rested on top of his ginormous belly and were big enough to hold in your hand. Additionally, because Adam’s shorts tore off, his ass was completely out and the two globes of flesh could be seen clear as day. They looked to be as big as bowling balls and provided Adam with enough cushion so he wasn’t uncomfortable on the wooden chair.
And speaking of the chair, constant creaks were heard from the thing. Adam was too fat for the chair to contain. His belly looked squished between the arm rests and his ass was starting to get a bit cramped too. After Adam was fed another fudge cookie, the chair snapped and left Adam to fall on the ground. His entire body shook, jiggling for at least a minute from the force of the fall.
Adam could’ve escaped then and there, but he was having a hard time getting up with his fat body. Giving up after trying to get up one time, Adam just decided to wait for help. With his arms free now, he decided to feel his grown body up for the first time. He grabbed his belly and let it fall back into his lap, feeling the jiggling sensation go throughout his body. Adam then cupped one of his moobs in his hand, then doing the same to the other one. “This isn’t half bad.” Adam said to himself.
Just then, the two people in strange suits had come back with a new chair. It looked pretty sturdy, being made out of metal and having a wide seat for Adam to grow into. The seat also looked like it retracted, which confused Adam, but he really wasn’t in a place to question them. The two people helped Adam sit in the chair, allowing the big boy to rest somewhere other than the ground.
“It seems like you’re enjoying yourself more.” The voice said once Adam was comfortable in his chair. Adam agreed, so the voice asked, “Did those movies help jog your memory?” Adam was a bit confused at first, but remembered what the voice was referencing. “Yeah I have to admit, some guys are pretty cute.” Adam said, which pleased the voice. But then Adam also added, “But I still prefer girls, and it’s not like I’d want a guy to fuck me. I’d be the one on top.”
The voice was quiet for a few minutes. Then, out of nowhere the voice said, “It appears your memory is still cloudy. We can help with that.” After that, one of the people in suits shoved a tube in Adam’s mouth. Shortly after Adam felt something flow through the tube, which he shortly after tasted in his mouth. It was incredibly delicious and Adam couldn’t help but suck the stuff down. He didn’t know he was eating an incredibly fattening combination of grease, lard, fat and sugar. Then, the TV screen came back on, but this time a movie wasn’t playing. This time there was a black and white, swirling spiral on the screen. Adam was confused and wanted to look away, but found it incredibly difficult to do so, strangely enough. Finally, Adam felt a part of the chair beneath him retract, which further confused Adam. He let out a yelp as the chair seat came back, only this time Adam felt the chair had stuck something in his butt. It was cylindrical, almost tubular. Then it started to move further into Adam’s rear and then slowly moved back to its original position, the entire motion causing Adam to let out a loud, muffled moan. This helped Adam confirm that some kind of dildo was in him, or something of the sorts. Each thrust caused Adam’s entire body to jiggle, the constant movement causing Adam’s mind to be even more thrown off.
“Hopefully a night with this will help bring you back to your true self. Goodnight, Adam.” The voice said. The two people in suits left Adam’s view, with Adam letting out confused moans that were muffled by the tube in his mouth. Adam was completely lost and his mind was starting to be clouded by immense pleasure. Shortly after the voice and people left him, Adam came all over his underbelly, making a mess from the pleasure. Adam was embarrassed but knew he couldn’t help it. The dildo object in his ass was hitting some kind of pleasure nerve and it was hard to resist it.
Feeling like there was nothing else to do about his situation, Adam just stared at the TV and let his mind drift off. Adam was left in a daze, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the continuous spiral. He didn’t feel like he had much of a choice to do otherwise. All the boy felt like he could do was wait for tomorrow, and whatever came with it.
Luckily for Adam, it felt like the next morning came quickly for him. The TV shut off, causing Adam to come back to reality. Even though he had been wacked out of his mind for the entire night, he had still been drinking down whatever substance was constantly being pumped through the tube. Not only that, but the buttplug thing in his ass had been pushing into him the entire night. He eventually got used to the feeling, but it still brought him immense pleasure each time it thrusted into him.
“Good morning Adam. It seems your night was fruitful.” The voice said shortly after Adam came back to his senses. Adam was confused at first, but looked at his body to realize what the voice was referring to.
He had grown massive overnight. Adam’s feet had grown so fat that they had finally snapped his sneakers and socks off during the night. His feet looked like plump little marshmallows attached to a fat piece of meat. Adam’s legs were also much thicker, growing wider as they approached his thighs. His thighs were basically tree trunks now, maybe even wider than that. Adam’s belly rested on his thighs, well for the most part it did. It had grown so fat that it was starting to hang over the edges of his thick thighs, causing flab to hang from Adam even when he was sitting. This wasn’t to mention the numerous rolls that Adam’s belly had, and each looked sweatier than yesterday, most likely due to the treatment Adam’s rear was receiving. Pillow moobs sat atop his belly and they looked like they may start sagging off of it soon. Each moob was about the size of a beach ball and it made it difficult for Adam to look down at himself. As Adam tried to move his moobs to see himself, he realized how heavy his arms were. It was incredibly tiring to move either of them, and when he did move them tons of fat sagged and jiggled off of the appendages. Adam’s face was filled with fat too. He was working his way to a third chin, and his cheeks jiggled whenever he moved now too.
It would be safe to be on Adam not moving a ton now. He looked like he was already overflowing the new seat he had been given. And Adam didn’t even look phased by this. In fact, as he looked over his body, one could’ve sworn that Adam came a few times.
“So,” the voice started, “how are you feeling today Adam?”
The tube was removed by one of the people in suits, Adam not noticing them walk over to him. Just as the tube was removed, Adam let out a humongous belch. It caused his body to jiggle for a good minute and the person who removed his tube had to step back a bit from the surprise force.
“I’m hungry.” Adam bluntly said. Shortly after, he came and added, “And horny.”
There was a pause once again, but after a few seconds the voice said, “Good! So it would be safe to assume you remember what your life is really like, yes?”
Adam was puzzled, scrunching his face up to say, “Huh?” He let out a burp as he said this, not nearly as large as the last one. He also let out a fart, despite the dildo-like object still being in his ass.
Adam couldn’t see it, but the person behind the voice smirked before continuing. “Oh, you know.” The voice said in a friendly tone. “Things like your weight. You’ve always been a fatty. Too lazy to do physical stuff, like sports. Always hated gym and running, none of that.”
As Adam listened to the voice, childhood photos of him appeared on the TV. There were pictures of him in gym class, his chubby face looked tired and, in a later image, exhausted. More images popped up, this time from a few years later. He was sitting on the couch, naked with his chubby belly out, eating a bag of chips and chocolate. This continued until more recent photos popped up, school yearbook photos of Adam as his fat ass self.
“Yeah...I’ve always been huge…” Adam said as memories started manifesting in his mind. He started to forget about his love for football, it being replaced with food. Whenever he felt pressure from his parents or anyone else to succeed, Adam would always eat. It calmed him down and he quite liked being bigger.
“Of course I remember that. I know I’ve always been big.” Adam said, almost as if he was offended.
“Oh? So then you remember your boyfriend, Jason?” The voice went on.
“Wh- huh?” Adam blundered again.
This time, an image of a brown-haired boy with blue eyes appeared on the TV.
“He asked you out in 9th grade. You’ve been together ever since. He’s helped fatten you up. I wouldn’t think you’d forget about him, you two are quite inseparable.” The voice added.
As Adam looked on at the images of the boy, more memories flooded back into his mind. He remembered when he first met Jason, in one of his English classes. When Jason asked him out, Adam was ecstatic, further so when Jason told Adam about how Jason wanted him fatter. He remembered nights of being stuffed to the brim, and some moments of Adam begging Jason to feed him. Any memories of being straight or liking girls had left Adam’s brain.
“He’s so hot…” Adam said in awe as he looked on at the pictures of his boyfriend.
The photos of Jason continued to come and with each photo it looked like Jason lost more and more clothing. Eventually Jason was completely naked, but Adam seemed happier about this than disturbed. He let another burp out before the voice continued to talk.
“And I’m sure you remember how...dominant...Jason is.” And Adam did. He remembered how coercive Jason was when feeding Adam, getting him to down an entire table in just under an hour. Jason made Adam feel like a fat pig, and this was no different in the bedroom. Adam couldn’t remember once being on top, always wanting to please Jason as much as he could.
After a few more minutes of naked Jason photos, the TV went pitch black before turning off. Adam had nearly cum 4 times throughout his “reminders” but he didn’t really seem to notice. He had ejaculated so much during the night because of the chair that he didn’t realize when he busted his load.
“Now, it’s breakfast time. Eat up!” The voice finally said to break the silence. But Adam didn’t even realize the voice had spoken, his face full of bacon and donuts from the two people in space suits. The voice was then quiet as Adam ate. The boy continued to be pleasured from behind, feeling a constant state of hungry, horny and pleasurable relief.
Just as fast as Adam was fed breakfast, he was fed lunch. “Hungry, mphf, need to eat…” Adam said as he was stuffed with burgers and fries, among other greasy junk. Grease dripped down his chins and onto his moobs, as well his chubby cheeks. Burps and farts continued to be released from the growing pig and he seemed to be sweating more too. He looked to be exhausted just from eating the food shoved in his face. Adam didn’t think anything was wrong and just wanted to eat.
Dinner soon came and Adam didn’t flinch at the sound of several carts being pulled up to him. He didn’t see them because of the dark room and his fat obscuring his vision, but he didn’t really care what the food looked like. Adam cared about it being in his gut, opening his mouth wide to be fed more. Greasy pork was shoved in his open maw, along with more fries, creamy potatoes and more juicy turkey. “Want...more...hungry…” Adam panted out before a belch erupted from him.
All the while Adam’s ass was still being toyed with by the chair. He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t rock hard, his dick somehow still spurting out cum. Gluttony and lust clouded his mind, Adam being reduced to his base desires. He continued to be fed, sweat dripping in between his rolls and onto the chair.
As Adam finished a turkey, he opened his mouth expecting more food. Nothing came, however, which annoyed him a bit. The feeling in his rear stopped too, with a loud “plop!” sound being accompanied with the feeling of his ass being empty. No longer was there pleasure from behind or food from the front, so Adam was left with nothing to do but wait.
Adam tried to admire his body as he waited, seeing how big he had grown from all the eating he did. His belly drooped down in front of him, hanging nearly to his ankles. Each of his moobs looked to be the size of two pillows stacked in one pillow case, his nipples now as wide as a pepperoni slice on a pizza. Adam didn’t feel like he could move his arms, or at least move them very well. The same went for his legs, which were connected to thighs so wide they’d intimidate a redwood tree. Adam’s face was swaddled with 3 chins that were dangerously close to adding a fourth. His cheeks were as big as his face once was, jiggling whenever Adam made the slightest movements. And Adam’s ass, which had been constantly jiggling from the treatment from the chair, was holding him up about 3 or 4 feet in the air. Each butt cheek looked to be around the size of an exercise ball, all completely made out of adipose.
The sound of footsteps snapped Adam out of his admirable trance, figuring the two people were back to feed him some more. However, they appeared empty-handed and simply said, “Let’s go.” “No desert?!” Adam shouted, but realized that took a lot of energy out of him. “I...need to...eat…” He panted afterwards.
“Oh, you’ll get enough desert to last you until next year. Just get up so we can get you to where you need to go.” The person in the suit said. However, that’d be easier said than done. Adam looked like he was stuffed into the chair, his love handles over flowing from the arms of the chair and Adam’s ass and thighs were pouring out of the spaces under the chair arms. The two people in suits tried to lift the sweaty boy up, but it only resulted in creaking from the chair. Eventually, Adam felt the creaking grow more intense until it finally snapped under him. Adam jiggled for a good 5 minutes, his belly and rolls bouncing up and down along with his ass cheeks and moobs.
Afterwards, the two people heaved the fatty up, struggling to keep hold with all the sweat pouring from Adam’s body. Adam tried to help by lifting his legs, but that did nothing but move his belly a bit. The fat boy let out a fart from all the movement before panting, “Where...are...we...going?”
The people in suits didn’t even look at him, waiting a second before saying, “You’ll remember soon enough.” Remember? Were they taking him to a place he had been before? Did Adam actually know these people? What was even going on? Adam plagued himself with enough questions that he passed out from mental and physical exhaustion, not even being conscious to leave the room he had been trapped in for so long.
When Adam woke up, his eyes had to adjust to the sunlight. Was he outside? The more his eyes adjusted the more he realized he was just inside a well-lit room for the first time in a while. He was in front of a beautiful fireplace, the sides made out of well-crafted stone with a wooden finish on top. The walls were also beautiful stone, and Adam realized he was sitting on a very comfortable black leather couch. Looking to his left, Adam saw a very well decorated Christmas tree with numerous delicately wrapped presents underneath. Adam felt very out of place in this fine, luxurious room being the sweaty, fat pig of a slob he was.
However, Adam felt like he recognized this room. But, where exactly was it? As Adam tried to think, he got a massive spike of a headache thinking of his life. Luckily a loud, excited scream, one he recognized, put him in a good mood. He turned towards his right, where the scream came from, and gave an excited, “Babe!”
The brown haired, blue eyed boy ran over to the sweaty blob and gave him a big hug. “This is the best present ever!” He shouted, giving Adam a big kiss on the lips. “Well, we had to make it for the best son ever!” The father said, and the mother followed up with, “Merry Christmas Jason. You still have more presents to go through with Adam!”
The family enjoyed their opening of Christmas gifts, Jason receiving seemingly everything he asked for and Adam getting some new clothing, most notably an incredibly large thong. Adam remembered he was visiting...no wait...he lived with his boyfriend, Jason. Adam couldn’t remember living otherwise, so he was puzzled as to how he got any other idea in his mind.
After unwrapping presents, everyone headed towards the dining room for Christmas lunch. Adam, of course, would be getting a Christmas dinner later, but Jason and his parents usually filled up on Christmas lunch so much they couldn’t spare a bite for dinner. Adam sat in his huge seat, almost like a throne, though it looked the same as all the other chairs. Jason sat on Adam’s sweaty lap, which was mostly just Adam’s belly at this point. Jason fed Adam nearly everything that wasn’t on his parents’ plates, nearly forgetting to eat himself. Adam graciously ate whatever Jason held in front of him, letting out a belch as he finished the food.
“Lunch was great Mrs. Trebuk!” Adam thanked Jason’s mother. She graciously thanked him for the compliment as Adam tried to stand up, with Jason’s help of course. Adam started to waddle towards the living room to relax, but Jason had other plans. “We’re not done just yet.” He whispered to his large boyfriend. Adam felt his tool poke into his fat at the sound, excited for what came next.
Jason led Adam into his bedroom, which looked to be the size of a regular master bedroom. The bed was bigger than a king sized bed, which was necessary for Adam’s size. Jason heaved his boyfriend on the bed before he started stripping down. “This is my Christmas gift to you, fatty.” Jason said as he let go of his thong, revealing his sizable package. Jason then got on the bed with Adam, who was lying on his stomach, and then behind Adam.
Adam braced for what came next and excitedly moaned as Jason entered him from behind. “I’m so glad I have my fat piggy to play with. You’ll love this too I bet, you sweaty blob.” Jason said as he rammed himself into Adam, having to because of Adam’s ginormous ass cheeks. Adam just moaned, everything just bringing him massive amounts of pleasure.
A few moments later, the bed was covered in Jason and Adam’s sweat, though it was mostly the latter’s. Adam could feel himself coming to a climax, as well as Jason. Jason moaned out Adam’s name as he released into the pig, shortly afterwards saying, “Merry Christmas fat boy.” Adam came himself shortly after, panting and mumbling to himself, “This...is the best...Christmas...ever…” Adam passed out shortly after, waiting for his Christmas dinner, which would be just as fulfilling.
Epilogue
The Trebuk family was a very well-off family. Mr. Trebuk had inherited his family’s programming company, among the other stocks his father had invested into other companies. Mrs. Trebuk was a famous psychologist, renowned for her study in psychoanalysis and suggestion. Having made several books and gone on many early morning talk shows, she brought in nearly as much money as her esteemed husband.
Their son, Jason, was also well-off, but more genetically than in regards to his success. Jason had inherited his father’s metabolism and body, but his mother’s eyes and hair. The combination made Jason a typical pretty boy, though Jason had a bit more muscle than the average ‘pretty boy’ archetype you’d expect.
Jason was also peculiar in the fact that he was gay. With his fame on social media apps like Instagram, TikTok and Twitter for his body, one would expect him to be straight, just like most other boys were. But that wasn’t the most interesting thing about Jason either. Jason liked bigger guys, and not guys who were just more muscled and had a bit of fat on them. No, Jason’s ideal boyfriend was one who was huge, fat and barely mobile.
He had even expressed this to his parents, as the family was very open about their lives. So, when his parents asked Jason what he wanted for Christmas, it wasn’t surprising when he said, “I want a boyfriend who’s a fat pig, but I don’t want someone who’s already fat. I want a guy who’s thin and fit, like me, but make them fatter. And I want them to adore me. And I want them to be a slob. And…” Jason trailed on and on, his parents getting a little skeptical they could even fulfill his wish. Hell, they were concerned they could even get their son a boyfriend.
They proposed saying something on social media about it, but Jason told them he didn’t want his online personality to invade his life. He’d rather his fans think of him as a typical, attractive guy who flaunts his body online. Jason had been hoping this would bring him modeling opportunities, which it did now that he had turned 18, but he would be lying if he didn’t say he appreciated the attention.
As Jason finished up with what he wanted, his mother asked, “Is there anyone at school you like? We could try to base our ideas from there.” Jason eagerly went to his room, but his parents weren’t sure what he was doing. He came back with his yearbook, flipped to a marked page and pointed to a photo of a boy in his same year.
His father put on his reading glasses, while Jason’s mother tried to lean over for a view. “Adam Kolstit?” They both asked in unison. “Yup! He’s sooooo pretty! And I think he’d look even better as a fat pig!” Jason said, his parents afraid of him going on like he had earlier.
“Well, why don’t your mother and I talk about this for a bit and you’ll see what happens on Christmas.” Mr. Trebuk told his son. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Jason said, hugging both his parents tightly. The parents laughed and went back to their bedroom, locking the door so they weren’t disturbed.
“That boy is a handful.” Mr. Trebuk said. “And a half!” His wife added, then going on to say, “How are we gonna get a boy, another human, as a Christmas present?!” Her husband didn’t respond, busily typing away on his computer. “Are you even listening Dave?!” She yelled at him. “Quiet, Amanda, I think I’ve got our out.” Dave said, motioning his wife to his monitor.
Being the CEO of the programming company the town uses on a majority of their technology, Dave had access to nearly every computer in town, and this included security cameras. On screen, he had the camera right outside of a restaurant downtown. “That’s him!” Amanda said, pointing towards the boy. “I know it’s him that’s why I called you over here!” Dave yelled back. “Well follow him!” Amanda retorted. Dave kept switching to cameras until he saw an open field.
“Great Dave, we lost him.” Amanda whined. Dave kept watching the screen though, and said, “Don’t think so.” He pointed to a figure in a blue jersey with long, white pants on. They had a ball in their hands, which they dropped to the ground and kicked around. “So he likes soccer. Big deal.” Amanda said, walking away from the computer to sit on the bed. “It is a big deal! We know where he goes in the afternoon now!” Dave said
“Well now what? It’s not like I can just psychologically make him what Jason wants.” Amanda muttered. Dave then sat up, “But what if you could?” “Huh? I swear you get more senile every-” Amanda was interrupted by her husband saying, “The old warehouse a few miles out. We could store him there.” “And then what? We fatten him up in under a month?” Amanda questioned. Dave smirked and said, “Don’t worry, I know people. With your cooking and their science, we can make him ten times the size he is now.” Amanda then perked up to the plan, “And with my suggestive techniques…” “Now you’re getting it!” Dave complimented his wife. The two had a plan and just needed to execute it. Jason would have his fat boyfriend by the time Christmas came around.
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Excuse me, do you still take requests? Because I wanted to ask for a burping story regarding Golden Time's female protagonist, Kouko Kaga. Specifically about her feeling rather gassy after eating at a buffet with her boyfriend. If possible, I don't know if you could sneak a fart or two in there?
Sorry, I don't do any eprocto stuff. Everything else I can happily do, though. Also, I'm really glad to get an ask for this anime, it's def one of my favs, but it's also been a really long time since I watched it through so sorry if anything seems ooc 🙏
“Wow, you really were hungry, weren’t you?”
K.ouko stopped short, the noodles still ungracefully hanging from her mouth. She quickly swallowed them, trying to regain her composure. “I-it’s just because I haven’t eaten all day…”
“Ah, I didn’t mean anything by it, K.ouko. I’m glad you’re eating a lot now, it’s not good for you to skip meals.”
“I-I’m not really eating a lot, am I?” She looked at the table, realizing that she was on her third plate. “Oh…”
“Don’t sweat it, K.ouko!” He grabbed a forkful of his own pasta, shoving it into his mouth. “See? Now I’m eating a lot, too!”
“You’re talking with your mouth full, B.anri,” She giggled.
Embarrassed, he quickly swallowed. “O-oh, sorry…”
By the time they’d left the buffet, K.ouko felt beyond stuffed. The walk back to B.anri’s apartment was agonizing, and every other step brought a little bit of food into the back of her throat.
“Was everything good, K.ouko?”
She didn’t want to be rude after B.anri had treated her to a nice meal, but she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, the air (or worse, the food she had eaten) would come back up. So she simply nodded, not meeting his eyes. She could see him frowning in her peripheral vision and her heart dropped. ‘Now he’s going to think I’m ungrateful, isn’t he?’
“Ah, looks like we’re here, K.ouko. Be careful on the steps!”
She took them slowly, but it was still a great effort. She felt unbearably heavy and drowsy, and by the time they reached his door, she thought she might heave. She had intially been excited when B.anri had asked her to come over, but now, all she wanted to do was curl up in bed. She looked to B.anri to see if he was struggling in the same way, but he seemed alright, and was staring at her with clear concern on his face. “Are you cold? Let’s get you inside, okay?”
She nodded, following him in to his cozy yet somewhat minimalistic apartment. She felt a bit better in its warmth, but she was still heavily feeling the effects of her binge. She chided herself harshly, ‘Why did I have to do this in front of B.anri… this is something that a cute girlfriend definitely wouldn’t do…’
“K.ouko, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet, I’m starting to worry, a bit…”
K.ouko wanted to respond, to tell him that she was just fine, but suddenly felt a pocket of air rise up from the pit of her stomach. It was right at the top of her chest, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe around it. She stood up quickly, about to excuse herself to the restroom, but the upward motion brought everything up faster than she could stop it, and she let out a surprisingly loud burp.
She clapped her hands over her mouth, mortified. Some of the physical tension had been released, but the mental tension had increased tenfold. ‘Why did this have to happen now of all times… just when we finally have some alone time, too. He’s going to think I’m such a pig…’
She slowly looked over to him, hands still covering her flushed face, to gauge his reaction. To her surprise, he didn��t seem offended or grossed out at all. He simply smiled, and pushed out a longer, deeper belch of his own.
She let out a startled gasp. “B-B.anri! Mine was an accident, you did that on purpose!”
“Don’t be so embarrassed, it’s totally natural. I’m just glad you did it first, I’ve been holding that in this whole time!”
K.ouko sighed. “Geez… and here I was, worried about what you would think of me this whole time.”
“I thought I was the one who was worried about you… You’ve been so quiet, I thought that maybe I’d done something to make you upset or uncomfortable. I’m really glad you’re not angry with me, K.ouko.”
K.ouko blushed at his honesty. “Of course not, B.anri. I’d tell you if I was upset, I just… ate way too much.”
B.anri’s eyes moved to K.ouko’s stomach, visibly distended even through her shirt, and she quickly turned it away from view. “Please don’t stare at it!”
B.anri blushed, turning his head away. “Ah, sorry… Does it hurt?”
“...Yeah. It hurts a lot, actually. I really overdid it, I swear I don’t eat this much, usually. I was just really, really hungry.”
B.anri scooted backwards on the bed, with his back pressed against the wall, and patted his lap. “Come sit… I-if you want, that is…” He said shyly.
K.ouko hesitantly eased herself onto his lap, holding her bloated stomach protectively. He reached under her shirt and she gasped slightly as she felt his icy fingers touch her bare stomach. “Ah, sorry, it was really cold outside. Do you want me to stop?”
“N-no, that’s okay… you can keep going.”
B.anri hummed, and began kneading her flesh slightly. “Let me know if I’m making it worse, okay?”
She nodded, and let more of her weight fall into him. Being held in his arms was very comforting, and the soft, kneading motions were loosening up the tightness in her stomach.
He pressed underneath her stomach with his knuckles, and she gasped sharply as a cramp shot through her abdomen.
B.anri started to apologize, but his words were drowned out by the long, growling belch that left K.ouko’s mouth. She instantly felt everything in her stomach shift into a more comfortable position. It would have been very satisfying, were she not currently cuddling with her boyfriend.
“E-excuse me!”
“It’s ok! That’s what I wanted you to do, K.ouko! I bet you feel better now, don’t you?”
“A little bit, but you can’t just decide to do that on your own! I’m your girlfriend, I don’t want you to think I’m gross! And please don’t be so rough! Or put your hands so low…”
“Ah, sorry, K.ouko, I didn’t mean it like that, and I would never think that you’re gross... I just thought that it would help to release some pressure.”
“Well, I guess it did.” K.ouko sighed in slight frustration. Scolding him had been a natural response, but one that she regretted. It really had helped, very much so, but she could still feel more air swirling around in her stomach uncomfortably. She tensed up her chest, hoping to let it all go at once and be done with this embarrassing situation. It only shifted the dense mass of food in a dangerous way, and she sighed in defeat. “Maybe we could… do that again?”
B.anri grunted affirmatively, and resumed rubbing with gusto. He seemed enthusiastic to be taking care of her, and K.ouko had to admit that she was smitten with this side of him. He was rough, but not too rough, and seemed to be hitting all of the right spots. He dislodged another pocket of air, and she let out a low, airy belch. “Mm. That feels a bit better…”
She shifted, trying to get more comfortable. As she moved, a deep, rumbling belch sounded, one that was actually not her own.
“B.anri! That was right in my ear!”
He chuckled, and she could feel it reverberating in his chest. “Sorry, K.ouko. It got pushed out when you shifted. I ate a lot of food, too.”
Before she could respond, he pressed her stomach harshly, and a sharp belch ripped from her throat. “*uURP!* Hey...”
“You’re not allowed to be mad!” He teased, “We’re both pigs today, okay?”
A soft, airy belch popped out of her effortlessly, and she sighed, giggling slightly. “Okay, B.anri.”
Encouraged by her acceptance, he started to press even harder, until she jolted with a sharp hiccup. “Ah, sorry, K.ouko!”
K.ouko sat up slightly as a wave of hiccups took her. She started burping after each one, getting larger each time as the hiccups got more violent, bringing more air up with them.
“I’m really sorry, K.ouko! You’re not going to be sick, are you?”
K.ouko simply shook her head. The burping felt good, but the hiccups were getting increasingly painful, so she tried holding her breath. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t hold back a particularly violent hiccup. She felt a large shift in her stomach, as if a switch had been flipped, and let out a massive, deep belch. She blinked in surprise. She had never belched like that in her entire life. She could barely believe that it had come from her own mouth, but the way that her stomach suddenly felt half as full reminded her that it, in fact, had.
“Excuse me…” She said, holding a fist to her lips. She was a bit dazed with relief, but the mortification was quickly taking hold of her.
B.anri burst out into laughter behind her, “Looks like you startled your own hiccups away!”
“Hey!” She stood up, pointing at him accusingly, “Don’t laugh at me! This is your fault, you kn- hic!” Her hiccups suddenly returned full force, and she groaned in frustration. “Ugh- *hic*, B.anriii…”
“I know, I know… I’m sorry, K.ouko.” He yawned, going horizontal on the bed. “Why don’t you come lay down with me? It might help if I rub your back.”
“... I think you’re just trying to come up with excuses to put your hands on me.”
“W-what?” It was now B.anri’s turn to be embarrassed. “You know I’m not that kind of guy, K.ouko! I just want you to feel better.”
“I know,” She laughed, settling down next to him, “I’m just teasing you.”
#burping#burp kink#stuffing#stuffing kink#belly kink#belly rubs#my writing#ask#request#g.olden t.ime
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You’re into that too!?
Ship: Hwanwoong x Keonhee !
Rating: M (smut)
Contents: smut. belly kink !! stuffing, belly noises, gas.
[ hi! this is my first post! im sorry if it’s not too good, but hopefully i’ll get better... enjoy!]
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Dear lord.. Coming over for a pizza dinner night was a BAD idea... Hwanwoong thought, relaxing back into the sofa, bringing a fist to his mouth to stifle out a quiet burp. He and Keonhee haven’t hung out together in awhile, and when pizza was mentioned Hwanwoong just couldn’t refuse the offer. The boys have spent the last 2 hours, scarfing down two large pizzas and shared liter of coke. Keonhee has always been a big eater, but not Hwanwoong, so it wasn’t surprising to see the look of discomfort twisted on his face as he placed a hand over his taught belly, using his fingers to prod an massaging the quietly bubbling mass. Keonhee seemed totally unfazed by the bloat in his belly, even acted as if he could take another few more slices. Standing 5’11, tall, thin and lanky, it wasn’t hard to notice the dome under his tight shirt as he made his way back into the living room to meet his best friend. No body knew this, but Hwanwoong had a huge thing for bellies, especially stuffed ones. The sight of his own bloated stomach was enough to cause the tips of his ears to heat up, but the moment he laid eyes on the scrawny boy, his midsection swollen to the max, hwanwoong felt his whole face turn red. “Mmh, that was great.” Keonhee spoke, flopping down onto the couch to sit with Hwanwoong, the mixture of undigested pizza and bubbly soda audibly sloshing against his stomach wall, causing him to groan and let out a deep, rumbling belch. “Fuck. That felt good.. Y’a finished, too, woong?” The lanky boy asked, turning his head to look over at the much smaller boy besides him. In pure bliss at the burp he just heard, hwanwoong didn’t respond, instead his eyes fixated on Keonhees belly that was now slightly exposed just above his bellybutton. The burp stirred everything up in his gut, the sounds of soft rumbles now emitting from the swollen mound, which only made Hwanwoong blush ever deeper.
Keonhee raised an eyebrow, shifting his attention to his stomach, wondering if the other boy was grossed out by the sight. “Oh-.. Sorry.. I’m such a slob—“ He chuckled, pulling his tee down to cover his stomach. “NO!” Hwanwoong blurted out, freezing as he realize how weird he just sounded. “Y-youre fine- Not a slob at all! It was just cute, that’s all!” Keonhee blinked at the boys words, nodding his head a little. “Oh- Thank god. I was worried i was grossing you out— Would it be okay if i unbuttoned my jeans? It digging into my stomach.” Keonhee asked, not wanting to put any wrong ideas into Hwanwoongs head. The smaller boy nodded his head frantically, watching as Keonhee popped the button to his jeans and released the swollen belly. A deep rumble of relief shook through his belly, his hand rubbing over the gurgly tummy. “Oh, yeah.. so much better.” Hwanwoong sat besides his best friend, the arousal becoming more and more noticeable with his cock stiffening in his shorts. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, adverting his gaze from Keonhee’s stomach, trying to act normal. Little did Hwanwoong know that Keonhee’s eyes were glued to him, watching every little movement and dart of Hwanwoong’s eyes. He was turned on.. by his stomach? Interesting. It looks like they had something else in common. Yes. Keonhee, too, had a thing for bellies, and he was shocked to see Hwanwoong did too. How does he approach this without freaking him out? Just then, something shifted in Hwanwoong’s stomach, his eyes shifting to the quietly rumbling mass, placing a hand to his underbelly to cradle the seemingly agitated tummy. His stomach let out a sickly gurgle, causing the smaller to groan out and arch his back against the cushions. “Ah!—.. Belly ache..” He cried out, pressing his palm into his stomach, feeling the contents shift roll against his touch.
Now was Keonhee’s chance... ”Oh gosh.. Cmere, let me rub your tummy.” He open his arms and before he could even finish extending them, Hwanwoong was sat on his lap, caressing his round, bloated midsection. Keonhee was quick to press his hands to the dome, earning a moan from the smaller boy. He could feel all the food and soda churning against his palms, the churning soon becoming very audible. A soft whimper fell from Hwanwoong’s lips, looking down at his midsection to see Keonhee’s fingers pushing and massaging deep into the swollen, gurgly mass, each new press creating a chain of deep rumbles in his stomach, the contents shifting under Keonhee’s touch. “Oooh... settle, please...” Hwanwoong muttered to his belly, placing his hand to the side of it, giving it a gentle pat. “Please do.. No one likes an achy belly..” Almost as if the orb had a mind of its own, it let out a deep, burbling rumble, one that could be felt in his upper stomach, all the way down to his bellybutton. Just like that, the ache in Hwanwoong’s belly eased, his lips heaving a relieved sigh, a faint smile on his lips as he now rubbed his hands over his rumbling tummy. Suddenly, the smaller boys eyes widened, shifting a little in Keonhee’s lap. Was.. was that his cock he could feel..? Was Keonhee... turned on..? His attention turned back to the boy under him, seeing that he was still rubbing at Hwanwoong’s belly, totally entranced by it. Hwanwoong’s own cock twitched in his shorts, reminding him how much he enjoyed these kinds of things.. And now he had someone who.. might enjoy them too? With a bite to his lip, an idea came to mind, praying that his suspicions were correct. “Man.. You really stuffed me good, huh? My whole belly feels so tight.” Hwanwoong hummed, turning his attention toward the other belly in the room. Keonhee blinked, ears turning red at the others words, looking up at the boy in his lap. “i-.. i guess so...” The taller boy swallowed hard, watching as Hwanwoong pulled his hands away to cup the sides of Keonhee’s stuffed belly, hearing it growl at him. “Ooh, i hear you. no need for that.” Hwanwoong argued with the bloated tummy, giving it a gentle smack. “Oh-mmf!” Keonhee brought a hand to his mouth, his stomach letting out a loud grumble, bloating outwards a little more, a soft burp puffing out his cheeks. He placed his hand over the even more swollen stomach, feeling it churn beneath his hand. Hwanwoong watched the event unfold, hands still cradling Keonhee’s ballooning belly with a deep red blush on his cheeks, both of the boys now noticeably hard. “So... Youre into this, too?” Muttered Keonhee.
Over the next few minutes, the boys took in what just happened.. The sounds of their bellies rumbling being the only things that could be heard. A soft whine from Keonhee’s belly broke the silence between them as Hwanwoong cooed and leaned forward, leaning against the other with their bellies pressed into each other. Simultaneously, they both let out a soft burp from the pressure against their stomachs, causing them both to chuckle. “Suddenly, you’re a whole lot sexier, Mr Lee.” Hwanwoong whispered, watching as Keonhee rolled his eyes. “Mm, unfortunately for you.. your still a whole lot shorter.” Keonhee teased back, laughing softly with Hwanwoong before their eyes met. Soon, both of their bellies were gurgling with messy digestion, and in that time, they were both now aware of each other’s strange fetish. They spent this time flirting and kissing, letting their bellies do must of the talking for them. The ache in Hwanwoong’s belly soon eased with little burps Keonhee managed to massage out of him, his stomach becoming quieter once more. “Oh~.. Good boy.” Keonhee muttered, praising the belly for calming down. Hwanwoong giggled as his stomach let out a soft groan in response, leaning down to wrap his arms around the others neck, their bellies now pressed together. “Mm, you’re still digesting.. I can feel it against my stomach.” Hwanwoong hummed, pressing his lips to tallers, Keonhee chuckled and pushing up into Hwanwoong a little more, their bellies crying out between them. Their hips began to rut and roll against one another, each movement making their stomachs churn against one another’s. “Such a round little belly you’ve got, baby. it’s so fucking full.” Keonhee whispered, whining when he felt the others stomach pull back. Hwanwoong sat up in Keonhees lap, resting a hand over his soft burbling belly, hips grinding down against the other. “Oof.. I can feel everything moving through me. Fuck, i feel pregnant.” He giggled, taking the end of his shirt and slowly raising it up, exposing his round little pot belly full of pizza. Keonhee groaned at the sight, bucking his hips up needily. “You hear that? My belly is thanking you for the meal~” Hwanwoong commented, the burbles and rumbles in his get getting louder once more. Teasingly, the smaller boy began to bounce on Keonhees clothed cock, moaning and holding onto his belly as it sloshed and gurgled with each movement. Keonhee was just about to flip them over when he felt the movements and rumbling of the others belly stop. He looked up at hwanwoong, seeing him caressing the swollen orb, a worried look on his face. “Ooh, gosh.. i think i upset— mmf...” He was cut off by a deep gurgle from deep within his stomach, the gurgle shaking his belly as it rumbled up through his throat, releasing with a bone rattling belch that could be heard from the streets outside.
It was silent for a moment, nothing but the sounds of their bellies gurgling together. Keonhee blinked, watching as Hwanwoong cradled his belly again, letting out a soft giggle. “Whoops... Where were we again?”Before you knew it, the two boys pressed their lips together in a soft kiss, which turned hungrier and more passionate by the second. Soon, rumbles and sloppy kisses filled the room, Keonhee’s hands finding their way to Hwanwoong’s ass. The smaller boy pulled back with a moan, pressing down against the cock that prodded against his ass. “So hard... already?” He smirked, nipping at Keonhee’s bottom lip. “Mm, you say that like you’re not throbbing up against our stomachs.” Keonhee whispered, Hwanwoong’s eyes widening against and pulling back a little and glancing down between them, seeing that his cock has pushed passed the hem of his bottoms, his tip exposed and pressed between the rumbling orbs. “Fu-.. fuck im so so—“ “SH!” Hwanwoong was cut off by a shush, Keonhee’s hands pushing down hwanwoong’s bottoms, freeing his cock and soft, plump ass. “It’s sexy~ Just like you and your belly..” Hwanwoong was quick to shift himself out of his bottoms, and tug Keonhee’s down as well, watching his massive cock slap up against his round belly, covered in his own pre-cum. “God i want you so fucking bad..” Hwanwoong climbed back onto Keonhee’s lap, laying back down against him, this time being a lot rougher as he pressed their bellies together, causing them both to gurgle and churn harshly. “Oof.. mm.. i think my belly is getting gassy..” Keonhee groaned, letting out a series deep belches, All while his belly gurgled and sloshed with digestion. Hwanwoongs belly, on the other hand, churned hard, the food sitting in his belly like a rock, not wanting to digest much anymore. His stomach groaned and cried with indigestion, making his whole belly upset again. The vibrations of the two bellies grumbling together surrounded Hwanwoong’s cock, feeling the food in their stomach shift and slush against his cock, and at this point, he didn’t care if his belly got upset. “K-Keonhee.. I need you.. I.. I need you..” Before Keonhee could react, Hwanwoong was pushing himself down onto his cock, bulging out his belly even more as everything shifted inside of him. The two boys moaned and whined, the heat around keonhee’s cock was almost too much for him to bare. He was already so close. Hwanwoong sat up straight and cradles his belly again, bouncing himself mercilessly on Keonhee’s cock, his belly sloshing with each bounce. A burp fell from Hwanwoong’s lips, taking the others hands and placing them to his swollen gut. “You feel all that? can you feel all that moving around in there, baby?” Keonhee groaned at the others words, nodding his head as the contents in hwanwoong’s belly sloshed up against his stomach walls roughly. He gave a solid smack to the sloshy tummy, causing Hwanwoong to moan and place his hand over it, letting a deep, sour burp rumble out his throat. Keonhee watched as the belly shook with the burp, unable to hold his excitement any longer. He gripped onto the swollen orb and forcefully nicked his hips up deep into Hwanwoong, releasing his thick seed deep side of him, stomach groaning with each pump of cum. “K-KEONHEE!” Hwanwoong yelped, feeling his stomach bloat out more with Keonhee’s seed. With a whine, Hwanwoong reached his high, shooting his cum all over Keonhee’s gurgly belly.
The two rested there, bellies full, balls empty and heart’s content. And that’s how they stayed for the rest of the night. By morning, they laid snuggled up on the sofa, the sound of a hungry Keonhee tummy waking them both up. Yawning, Keonhee turned into his back, Hwanwoong snuggling his side as he stretched out. Hwanwoong giggled at the hungry gurgles the others belly let out, reaching over and lifting up the tallers shirt. The bloat was almost gone, and what bloat he did have laid in his lower belly, ready for the next stage. Hwanwoong rubbed his hand over the swell of Keonhee’s lower belly, smiling as he thought about the night they had. Another rumble from his belly made Keonhee finally sit up and slip his boxers on, standing up and ruffling Hwanwoong’s hair. “I’m gonna start breakfast... I’m thinking big..” Keonhee smirked. Hwanwoong rolled into his back and propped himself up, hearing his stomach let out a sickly groan. Keonhee’s face fell as both of the boys watched Hwanwoong lift up his shirt and reveal and much more bloated belly than last night, another deep, sickly rumble shaking the belly. Hwanwoong looked up at Keonhee with worry, placing a hand over it and feeling it churn the still undigested meal from last night. “i-... i think i’m going to be sick..”
To be continued <3
#stomach kink#belly kink#stuffed belly#gurgles#stuffing#stomach#digest#rumbles#tummy ache#belly ache#burping#oneus smut#keonhee#oneus#hwanwoong#oneus hwanwoong#oneus keonhee#sick#sickfic#belly#tummy#kpop smut
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Since Sooga likes Bokoblins, could Link please give his friend a Bokoblin mask so that he can hang out with them without having to fight?
THAT'S A FUCKING ADORABLE IDEA, LETS DO IT.
"This looks like a good spot!"
Mipha exclaimed. Sooga and Link immediately put their things down, looking around the forest area. Sooga nodded in approval.
"Fairly secluded, right by a river, stable land. Excellent choice, Mipha."
The four of them were here because princess Zelda wanted a silent princess specimen, and this spot was supposedly the best place to look. Kohga stretched, already in the mood for a nap.
"Sooga, get started with the tents and stuff. I wanna take a good nap. And did you bring my camping pillow?"
"Of course. I know your feet hurt otherwise. Just let me-"
Link and Sooga immediately turned towards a sound in the distance. Naturally protective and ready to defend their loves, they had their weapons at the ready. Link nodded for Sooga to follow.
"You two. Wait here."
Sooga followed him, and in a small clearing, was a group of bokoblins, dancing around a campfire. Link was about to dive in to slay them all, when Sooga grabbed his shoulder.
"Wait. They're a bit far from our camp. Leave them be."
"Rather empathetic of you, Sooga."
Sooga turned to look at Mipha, brow furrowed under his mask.
"I told you to stay at camp."
"Bitch, I tell YOU what to do. Now what's going on?"
Kohga piped up, suddenly appearing right next to Mipha. Sooga sighed, and gestured to the bokoblins ahead of them. Kohga nodded in understanding.
"Oooh. Okay, I get it."
"Does Sooga not like bokoblins?"
"Oh the opposite. He loves 'em. Thinks they're cute."
Link and Mipha raised a brow at him, clearly not getting it. Sooga shrugged.
"They're just...so helpless. The way they snort like little pigs and burp after they eat. And they have just big ears and little tummies-"
"Oh my god you're going into baby language again."
"Look at them!!"
A bokoblin smelled it's own armpit, before passing out on the spot. Mipha gave an uncomfortable yet supportive smile.
"Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder, I suppose."
Sooga grabbed an apple from the tree above, before rolling it over to the bokoblins. Two scrambled for it, before tripping on it, falling on its ass. Another ate it greedily, before letting out a loud burp. All while Sooga looked at them with complete fondness.
"They're just so precious. I choose to not kill them, if I am able. And I feed them if I have a good hiding space. But...I suppose there's no time for that now, we have work to do."
Sooga, a bit disappointed, turned to walk away. Kohga looked at Link, and nodded. Link stopped Sooga by grabbing his hand, and handing him something. Sooga looked it over in his hands. A rather crude looking mask.
"A...mask?"
Link had another pair, and had strapped it to his face. He hunched over his back, and held his arms out to the sides, occasionally making a few grunts. Sooga raised a brow.
"Does this...act as a disguise? I mean, I would love to give this a try, but-"
"Just go before I change my mind, Sooga."
Sooga hesitated for only a second, before strapping the mask over his own mask, practically giddy.
"Lead on, Link."
They pushed past the brush, and slowly joined the group. Mipha and Kohga watched on as they approached the camp. It was small, with only two red ones, and one Grey one, but a good hit would be enough for these two to have to defend himself. The Grey one was immediately interested in Sooga, and sniffed at his face. Sooga tried not to lose his mind as it almost touched him, before pulling away, clearly hesitant. The other two surrounded him and Link like vultures, just as curious. Sooga didn't think it was going to work, before Link pulled out some fruit from his pockets, dumping them on the ground. Two of them beat the third one to it, making the little fellow grumble and growl in discontent. So, Sooga pulled a banana from his pocket, and offered it to him.
He accepted it immediately, stuffing it in his mouth, peel and all. The banana mashed through its messy rows of teeth, its tongue slopping it up from its lips without manners. And when it was finished, it burped, then went right back to the campfire, alongside the other two. Link nudged him, wanting an opinion.
"They're adorable and I will love them until I die. I don't mean to be emotional, but as Kohga would put it, 'lowkey I could fucking cry right now'"
He turned to look at Kohga, who only motioned him to keep going. Kohga turned to look at Mipha, shrugging.
"Guess the boys are gonna be busy. Just you and me, little red. Let's go."
The things he did for this man.
------------------------
"Is he STILL out there?"
"Yep. Watch, I'll call him."
Kohga had actually let Sooga stay with the bokoblins for two days now. Did it feel like a lot, having Cil take over for him while it was gone? Sure. But the guy needed a break, why not give him one. Kohga called him on the slate, and Cil tried not to laugh as he saw Sooga in a bokoblin mask.
"Master Kohga! So glad you called! Me and Grey were just talking about you!"
"Grey?"
"Yeah, he named them-anyhow, how's it going, Soogy?"
"Great! They've accepted me as one of my own, and I love them terribly."
Kohga gestured towards the slate, as if asking 'see what I gotta deal with?' Cil raised a brow as Sooga turned the screen to look at his new friends.
"So...you've just. Been hanging out with these three?"
"Grey, Red, and Bread, yes."
"Bread?"
"He loves Bread. He punched Red in the face when I gave them a loaf."
It was currently starting to sprinkle where Sooga was at, and they both saw that Sooga had made them little tents, with their own little fires to keep them company and keep them warm. It was kinda cute, honestly, how much Sooga cared for these little guys. Sooga appeared to be right next to one bokoblin, who was currently eating a banana, loudly and honestly, disgustingly. Cil scoffed.
"You...think this is cute?"
"He's ADORABLE. And I've been talking to Bread all day about you, Master Kohga. In fact, I want you to see him face to face. Bread. Bread, take five seconds-look!"
Bread burped at the camera, before studying the face on the screen. Kohga waved a bit awkwardly, before Bread grabbed the slate, studying it with great interest.
"Bread is sort of my favorite. Wonderful listener. And, he actually doesn't like fish! It made me think of you. Bread please don't lick the screen. Bread. Bread get that out of your mouth. BREAD NO DON'T EAT-"
The screen cut out, and Cil looked at a confused looking Kohga.
"You're sleeping with him. Did that register in your head?"
"Yep."
"Should I go fetch him?"
"Nah. Give him one more day. He's happy. I can tell, He's taken a million pictures. Besides, just means you get to do more stuff for me."
"True, true~"
#asks#Kohga#Sooga#Link#Mipha#Cil#Sooga loves his boko buddies#they're so cute and precious to him#also fun fact!#bokoblins will shiver when they get caught in the rain!
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Brother, Brother (Part 2)
Arashi knew something was up once he opened the front door with a tipsy Shinyo leaning on the frame. Stumbling inside without much permission, Shinyo began a drunken rant about “how ungrateful my little prick of a brother can be”.
Arashi sighed. He knew the routine. First the blonde will go on and on about how stupid his younger brother is, then it’ll end in him sobbing about how pitiful his life is. At first the swan-hero found it amusing but now it was extremely grating.
He watched as Shinyo took another swig of his drink, letting out a loud burp and looked lazily in his direction. His hair was a mess; out of its usual ponytail. His face was dusted with a pink hue with alcohol painting his lips. Arashi would appreciate the sight if the other stopped babbling.
“Shinyo, calm down” he patiently said. He would kick the other out. But he knew Keigo needed at least a few days to rest. He already dealt with the weight of being a hero and now he has to keep his older brother out of trouble too.
Arashi knew all too well what stress being a hero felt like. His work took place mostly at night dealing with the underground, big-bad villains that the daytime heros never bothered to deal with. He can imagine that stress was the same on both sides, day and night.
He also knew how stressful Shinyo can be too. Not only does he stay in trouble; coming home drunk, not working, giving unnecessary sass; all that was a package deal with Shinyo.
Shinyo and Keigo are like day and night. Keigo, for some reason, is way more mature than Shinyo. He make better choices, considerate and think with his head. Smart too. Shinyo is the exact opposite.
Don’t get him wrong, Arashi admire Shinyo a lot but some things he will never understand.
Shinyo and Keigo came from the same household. They both grew up with abusive parents. Shinyo protected Keigo from their harsh world. So how did Keigo end up being the only one to become a hero.
“My fucking parents sold ‘em” Shinyo would bitterly say. “No shit he’ll become on top. Those fuckers can give two shits about my little brother’s wellbeing as long as they get what they want.”
Arashi sighed at the thought. Maybe he was overthinking again?
It was a moment before he realized that the living room fell silent. Shinyo must have finally burn put of energy and crashed out.
Arashi peeked into the living room to see Shinyo laying sloppily on the couch, snoring like a bear. His wings were spread out, the massive red covering most of the couch.
Arashi chuckled to himself, grabbing a spare blanket and headed over to cover the other. Shinyo mumbled in his sleep. Arashi smiled softly, brushing the wild, blonde bangs out of Shinyo’s face.
He felt his heart flutter looking at his best friend’s sleeping form.
‘Shinyo’
“Keigo, stop crying, ok?” I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Shinyo! Keigo! Where the hell are ya, you little brats!”
“H-He’s gonna hurt us, Nii-san.”
“Yeah, over my dead body!”
A loud bang sounded on their bedroom door. Shinyo could hear their mother through the thin wall.
“Forget about them. Don’t waste your time.”
“The little punks sold me out! I just know it!”
Keigo whimpered as the banging continued, his feathers fluffing up in fright. Shinyo scowled, hugging his little brother and circling his own wings around him in and effort to comfort.
“Shinyo!”
“Suck it, you old fuck!” the ten-year-old snapped. “We didn’t even do anything to you!”
The banging stopped. The only thing that could be heard is Keigo’s sobbing.
“N-Nii-san...”
“Shhh, it’s ok. Big brother will protect you, baby-feathers.”
Another loud crash as the door caved in revealing a rather large man. He looked furious as he glared down at the two. Shinyo glared back while Keigo hid his face in the other’s shoulder.
“Come here, you little brats,” their father hissed. “I’ll teach ya to open those big mouths of yours!”
“Nii-san!”
“Keigo!”
---
Shinyo jumped out of his sleep, his breathing loud and rugged. He felt his body shake, not in fear but anger. The dream was a memory and that memory of his little brother getting hurt because of him lingered.
He groaned once he realized that it was now morning. Or mid-day. No telling how long he’s been out. He had no clue where the fuck he was until it dawned on him that this place looked all too familiar.
The scent of coffee greeted him. It was tempting but he was almost sure he would not be able to hold it down with a hangover.
Standing up on wobbly feet, Shinyo stretched his body and wings. He heard footsteps which made him wince. Fucking good ass hearing can be a curse sometimes.
“Moring,” Arashi greeted. “Finally up? I thought you died at some point.”
“Fuck off, swan-bitch,” Shinyo grumbled. “Fuckin’ head hurts. Where the sake? If I drink more, it’ll cancel out.”
“Or you die of alcohol poison,” Arashi said, rolling his eyes. “Here, dumb-ass. This is for your head.”
Shinyo didn’t care what it was. He wanted the headache gone so he snatched the pills and swallowed them dry.
“Remember anything from last night?”
“Eh, Keigo kicked me out, I went to the bar. Saw some cute ass girl...or guy, I don’t fucking remember. How the fuck did I even make it over here?”
“You work in mysterious ways,” Arashi chuckled. “And that cute girl you saw was me, dumbass. You probably drunk-flew all the way over here.”
“You need to cut your fucking hair,” Shinyo said with a raised brow.
“And you need to stop being a cry-baby ass alcoholic,” Arashi quipped back. “Hungry?”
“Na,” Shinyo said flopping back onto the couch. “Is it ok if I crash here for the night? Or two? Or forever?”
“Look, Shinyo,” Arashi began. He sat on the couch also, lifting Shinyo’s legs before placing them back down on his lap. He allowed his beautiful white wings to relax, hanging on the back of the couch. “You can’t blmae Keigo for being pissed at you. You start trouble, a lot. He’s a very well-known hero. Number two now. You going in and out of jail will eventually be leaked to the general public and it will make Hawks look bad.”
“Like I give a piss,” Shinyo growled. “It make the Commission look bad. That’s what he’s worried about. Fucking puppet.”
Arashi sighed. He wasn’t a big fan of the Commission himself which is why he doesn’t take direct orders from them. He can see where Shinyo was coming from but still.
“Grow up, ya bum,” Arashi said with a chuckle. “Stay here as long as you need to. Lord knows Keigo needs the break.”
“Suck my balls, feather brains,” Shinyo said with a boyish grin, flipping the other off.
“Gladly,” Arashi smiled back with just as much charm.
That caught Shinyo off guard, his face dusting pink.
“Fuckin’ asshole,” he grumbled as he looked away.
A sudden knock was on the door.
“Who could that be?” Arashi asked himself as he stood up. “Stay put, I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Arashi headed for the door on high alert. Opening it slowly, all he say was red. With a scowl, he opened the door wider to see Keigo in his street clothes, holding a bag in his hand with something that smelled amazing and a six pack of beer.
“Oh, hey, um Arashi,” he said nervously. He was fidgeting a bit as if he was nervous around the other. “I- hey, I’m sorry if Shinyo is bothering you. I brought food and drinks as a thanks for putting up with him.”
“Keigo,” Arashi greeted with a big grin. “It’s no problem at all! I know how much Shinyo can be.”
“You have no idea,” Keigo said with a sigh. “I also came to, uh, talk to him too?”
“Now? He’s a little snippy because of his hangover.”
“Drunken idiot.”
“He is.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with it.”
“It’s fine, really! Come on in!”
Keigo nodded his thanks, taking off his shoes and entering the apartment. It was a tad bit smaller than his own but that only makes sense since the other lived alone. He paused at the doorway to the living room, looking at the back of Shinyo’s head as he lounged on the couch. With a sigh, Keigo stepping inside.
“Shinyo.”
“Baby-feathers.”
#keigo takami#shinyo takami#arashi aikawa#bnha fanfiction#arashibelongstocreampuffsstuffandsleepwalkersqueen#shinyobelongstosleepwalkersqueen#bnha
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