#kink tag: immobility

[gorgin-gals-muses]

thought about immobile preds again 😊

I think preds that are overpowering with physical strength or do-anything magic are cool, but sometimes the best pred just has a lot of political power and a lot of people sworn fealty to her. Enough that she doesn't have to lift a finger. Just making a request or barking a few orders is enough to get you in her mouth

[gainprincess]

Who’s your fattest muse?

There are...TWO contenders.

Medea of Colchis...is a fucking hog. Make no mistake, this Caster has not moved off her ass without Circe's magic for...likely months on end. She only eats, sleeps, belches, sweats, shaves, bathes, and repeats. She is a slave to her own rampant hedonism, and an undeniable glutton for anything and everything that stands before her.

Her foe?

This one is entirely the fault of IRyS. Bae wanted to stop eating after Second Dinner (TM), but ended up eating a third and fourth one. Every night. For weeks. And months. And years. But IRyS kept cooking for her, and Bae kept eating, and now her facecame shows more chin than face, and the rrat is utterly immobilized.

Quite the sight, but hey.

At least IRyS makes great mid-stream snacks for her~.

[idealteeth]

(actively turning everyone into blobs) theyre gay your honor

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well!! I read in one of your previous posts that things were a little hard right now. I hope they get better soon, if they haven’t already!

I wanted to ask about your TF141 mer au:

Do the shark mers like Soap, Price and Gaz go into tonic immobility if they get flipped upside down?

Cuz you mentioned they might beef with orcas from time to time, and that’s how orcas often kill great whites: they turn them upside down and hold them like that so they can’t fight back. This paper discusses the strategies used by killer whales to hunt great white sharks that have been observed in South Africa (TW: for pretty lengthy description of killer whales hunting sharks, as well as some slightly graphic descriptions of how the orcas ate the sharks). They also talk about strategies the sharks used to get away from the orcas being similar to how the sharks’ normal prey, seals and sea turtles, try to evade them! Which might mean the sharks are learning how to escape orcas based off how their prey escape them! And they hint in the conclusions that the hunting of sharks might even be a culturally transmitted thing from parent orcas to their calves! Which is insanely cool!! It’s a bit dry because it is a scientific paper, but definitely worth reading, if you’re interested!

But back to the point: If they do go into tonic immobility when flipped upside-down, how do they handle that in the case of dangerous creatures/divers doing that to them? I hope the guys are staying safe out there 😰

(Also, ps. Tonic immobility is theorized to be a sex thing, since sex underwater is hard. So I dunno if you wanna integrate that into your kinky headcannons about the shark mers :) )

yes, thank you!! wild. i have indeed been looking for ways to write in other types of mer, especially orcas. the problem is orcas are way, way overpowered in real life. even the ones that don't kill great whites for their livers are big enough to eviscerate anything that looks at them funny and smart enough to (as you mention) to develop these unique ways of hunting down prey. like… how do you introduce someone based on that without breaking the whole dang worldbuilding structure?

and the study, especially this bit--

In one case, a killer whale attempted to roll and invert a white shark into a position that would result in tonic immobility (Henningsen, 1994; Pyle et al., 1999) before biting into its abdomen just behind the pectoral fins.

so yeah. this particular group of orcas 1) noticed sharks are vulnerable to tonic immobility, and 2) weaponized that vulnerability to basically hypnotize, kill, and butcher them. and those orcas do so with this, like, insane technical precision. they know exactly where to tear into the great whites to reach their livers. iirc, they don't even eat the other parts of the shark--just the liver. all that murder just for a decadent lil treat <3

but yeah! tonic immobility. the idea of building that into a kink thing for the mer 141 is. hmm. phenomenal actually. people apparently speculate that tonic immobility puts a shark into a calm or rapturous/ecstatic (!) state of mind.

like…. cmon...... hypnosis kink.

imagine knowing how to drop any one of the 141 into subspace. you'd have a pod of horny monster men at your beck and call to bottom for you whenever you feel like it ;) shark sex isn't easy! there's teeth and claws and rutting and tail-winding and so much biting. if you knew how to turn any one of them into easygoing submissive mers instead of bitey aggressive doms, who would blame you for flipping that switch occasionally?? as long as you do with them what you want to do before that 15-minute window of tonic immobility trance time is up, of course, and they regain their senses. then all bets are off.

that would need to be a closely guarded secret indeed ( *︾▽︾)

(mer au tag)

[avelera]

Joke's On You (I'm Into That) (22846 words) by Avelera Chapters: 4/? Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Betaed, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Bets & Wagers, Under-negotiated Kink, Dark Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Fuckboi Hob Gadling, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Humor, Sexual Humor, Sex, The Dreaming Realm (The Sandman), Tudor Era, Hate Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Feeding Kink, Belly Kink, Inflation, Oral Sex, Bottom Hob Gadling, Top Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream Sex, Immobility, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Feminization Summary: At the 1589 meeting, Hob is unwilling to let his stranger’s attention wander so easily. Not after Hob held off on his own marriage just for the chance to ask for his stranger’s hand instead. Dream does not take this proposal well. Disgusted by how Hob has squandered his immortality with the vulgar pursuit of wealth, he sets out to prove that Hob could never hope to endure the horrors of courting the King of Nightmares. OR That time Hob pissed Dream off so badly it started a sex competition between them in the Dreaming. With both of them too proud, pissed off, and horny to back down, things get weird very quickly.

--

I'm BACK! With a chapter in which I can only urge in the strongest terms for people to HEED ALL WARNINGS because this bitch gets INTENSE. Hope you enjoy!

[puppyfriedrice]

Pinned post~

Hi I'm Cj this is my kink blog so it's 18+ (I'm 33) and prefer you to be at least 26+ if you're in my DMs. Use my ask box! I love the ask box!

Not looking for feedees please don't dm me asking to make you fatter. I've been obsessed with someone for 15 years I'm good. If you still feel the need to slide into my DMs at least pay me

No DNI- I just block whoever I feel like ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I'm non-binary and use Roger rabbit pronouns (whatever's funniest)

I write and draw original and fanart/fic you can commission me via Kofi or DM me and we can discuss what you want

Stuff you'll find here: feedism, weight gain, bellies, stuffing, pregnancy, armpits, furries, mild bdsm, mild intox, general t4t horny posting

Not into personally: piggy/hog, death feedism, immobility, cnc, saying people have 'ruined' their bodies, hard humiliation

Red light no go: piss, scat, abdl, slob

Feedism jars here!

Check out the tags -

[gorgin-gals-muses]

“Oh, I’m very comfy, but I won’t deny more~”

He reached back and gripped a handful of Shini’s fat and wobbled it, laying his head in Yuma’s rapidly expanding blubber

"Mhmhmm, and are the sounds of the walls creaking from our dearly beloved fattening up underneath us comforting too~?" She grinned down at him as she pressed further atop him, his fondling touch causing her to wiggle more as she held him in place. Yuma let out a muffled groan as the entire room felt tighter, more cramped.

[chubunited]

In this house, we turn our friends into fat dragontaurs for @feybeasts!

[eatforcherry]

INTRO

My blog is 18+ ONLY. I will block minors and no age in bio accounts. Please have your age somewhere if you follow or interact with my posts. "18+" does not count as an age. I do check.

Basics:

✩ I’m Cherry, it’s what you can call me.

✩ I’m 36. From the UK

✩ FAT- 348lbs

✩ Non-binary/femme/AFAB/Queer (Whichever ya want) ✩They/she pronouns, please.

✩ Pansexual

✩ You might know me as Cherrybombe on Feabie :)

✩Asks- Yes ✩DMs- Yes I’d love to make friends on here. If you're under 27 please don’t DM me for anything other than SFW conversation. I am not interested in anything else with those who are much younger than me. Please respect this <3 I prefer followers to be over 21, but you can follow and interact with my posts only if you are over 18.

Vanilla me:

✩ Casual games -Animal Crossing, Stardew Valley, Pokémon etc.

✩ 80’s music. Punk, New Wave, Proto-Punk, Post-Punk, Grunge, Rock, Glam Rock, Metal

✩ Too many craft hobbies

✩ Sanrio enby (sorry)

Kink Me:

✩ Feeder, fat admirer, enabler, etc. etc. Not a feedee or gainer myself. ✩ Soft-ish Domme. ✩ Ethical BDSM & D/s ✩ Kink posts are gender neutral for anyone to enjoy 💕 ✩ Ask me to tag anything for you. (On anon is fine. Don’t worry, I’ll always accommodate) Yes: ✩ Stuffing ✩ Teasing ✩ Chastity ✩ Belly/body appreciation ✩ Praise ✩ Sissy & gender play ✩ Soft Domme ✩ FFA/QFA & Feedism

No: X Minors X DDLG/ MDLB X Animal/Zoo X Blood/gore/etc X Real immobility X Death feedism/illness, etc. X Transphobia/TERFs/Detrans X Homophobia X Racism/race fetishism x Pregnancy/Mpreg

Anything resembling harm to minors or real dubious consent is an instant block and report.

[feedergirlblogger]

Welcome 🌸 quick introduction

18 yo / FFA/feeder

Will block anyone who is doing too much spam in my DMs, pls Im so done will all those strangers messaging me. We can chat but dont always expect me to answer immediately okay?

Also as i mentioned, Im a really young adult so don't write directly to me anything too sexual, especially if you are more than 30yo (you will be blocked if you do lol)

Im mostly here to write about my fantasies and thoughts about the kink and reblog from other creators.

Kinks/stuff Im into

Obviously feedism, especially the soft side of it

Cozy domestic life with handsome fat men

Royalty aesthetic

The whole spoiling, luxury espect of indulging in decadent food

Feminine fat men, femboy trope

Some decrease in mobility and health with weight gain (wouldn't call it death feedism but yknow what i mean)

Immobility (only as fantasy though)

Height difference (fat tall men specifically)

My tags:

#old fashioned bliss and indulgence - for feedist Hazbin Hotel AU/fanfic im working on

#our perfection in mess - my original feedist story

#personal - my drawings, thoughts etc

[plushefemme]

✎ hello! ❤︎

✦ call me plushe :)

✦ nonbinary lesbian, she/her, white, 27

✦ single, femme4butch/stud/masc ⚢

➹ my posts ➹ my pics ➹ my asks ➹ my audios ➹ my erotica ➹

✦ this is a kink/nsfw blog. MINORS & AGELESS BIOS DNI, i do not want you here!! i try to check my followers but i am overwhelmed & baffled by the sheer number of ppl following this blog, i do My Best™

✦ message to the (cis) straight men.... don't give me any reason to block you and we'll be fine. (sidenote to queer ppl: i will not rb anything with men dni in the caption. if you don't want me rbing your stuff pls just block me or ask me not to rb, no hard feelings)

✦ exploring my feeder side, i'm also a feedee/gainer (trying to gain... we'll see) and i'm into mutual gaining

✦ mostly soft queer feedism but add a little bit of ✨spice✨

✦ tags i use as a heads up/in case you wanna blacklist: burping, intox tw, drugs tw, alcohol tw, cnc tw, breeding, force feeding, pet play, manipulation tw

✦ this blog will NOT contain: harsh teasing/humiliation, misgendering kink, forced feminization, fatphobia kink, immobility, medfet, farting, scat, vore, emeto. no hate, just not my thing!

✦ i use the tags personal, unsexy post, or not feedism related for me blabbering about random shit, blacklist if you'd rather have a one-track following experience

✦ i also tag fatphobia tw & ed mention but these rarely come up

✦ i follow from my sfw main blog

✦ this blog aims to be a safe space for trans women and transfems, gnc folks, people of color, disabled people, as well as anyone recovering/recovered from an ed

✦ other things to note: 1) attraction to fat people is not a fetish. 2) if you don’t place the safety and wellbeing of fat people above all else then go away. 3) fat liberation always. 

thanks for reading, take good care!~

[avelera]

(With thanks to @fishfingersandscarves for the art, originally posted here!)

Joke's On You (I'm Into That) (29841 words) by Avelera Chapters: 5/? Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Additional Tags: Betaed, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Bets & Wagers, Under-negotiated Kink, Dark Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Fuckboi Hob Gadling, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Humor, Sexual Humor, Sex, The Dreaming Realm (The Sandman), Tudor Era, Hate Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Feeding Kink, Belly Kink, Inflation, Oral Sex, Bottom Hob Gadling, Top Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream Sex, Immobility, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Feminization, Breeding Summary: At the 1589 meeting, Hob is unwilling to let his stranger’s attention wander so easily. Not after Hob held off on his own marriage just for the chance to ask for his stranger’s hand instead. Dream does not take this proposal well. Disgusted by how Hob has squandered his immortality with the vulgar pursuit of wealth, he sets out to prove that Hob could never hope to endure the horrors of courting the King of Nightmares. OR That time Hob pissed Dream off so badly it started a sex competition between them in the Dreaming. With both of them too proud, pissed off, and horny to back down, things get weird very quickly.

--

New chapter is up, closing out the Tavern Maid sequence! So much thanks is owed to Readertee, NanamiToamata, and MsDonnaNoble for the beta reading and workshopping assistance!

[templetogavage]

Hey there! I've noticed a few tags appearing on multiple posts like 'gone to seed' and 'sampling the beefcake', and I was wondering if you had like. A directory for all the different tags you use?

Not as of yet! So I guess I should start.

General

#adipose answers: This tag identifies ask answers.

#fattening feed: This tag identifies reblogged content.

#delectable diet: This tag identifies original content.

#rotund roundup: This tag identifies roundup content.

#weekly weighing: This tag identifies weekly roundup content.

#content type: [type]: This tag identifies the type of content featured: text, audio, video, photo, art, or AI art (AI art is separated because I know some prefer not to see it).

Body

These tags refer to body type, mostly, but includes a few other factors about how a man looks.

#bears out of provincetown: This tag applies to men with the bearish quality- hairy, perhaps a bit of muscle, typically a firmer gut, and with a hint of masculinity. This is mostly about Vibes and doesn't require all of the things I just mentioned, and I rarely tag this with #chasable chub.

#chasable chub: This tag applies to men without the bearish quality- hairless, lacking muscle, with a softer gut, and with more of a feminine energy. This is mostly about Vibes and doesn't require all of the things I just mentioned, and I rarely tag this with #bears out of provincetown.

Dynamic

These tags refer to whether there is a dominant, versatile, or submissive element to the post.

#throwing his weight around: This is the fat man as the bully, the boss; he is bigger and better and badder than you, and he can prove it.

#lard work and delicatessen: This is the fat man as the gainer, the man who has dedicated time and effort to getting as big as he is, and wants to show it off. (Self-assured and dominant, but submissive in its desire for worship)

#prize hog at the county fair: This is the fat man as the helpless hedonist, the pig who needs to be fed, who is being fattened up for someone else's pleasure.

Props

These tags describe additional elements of the post that make it hot, in my opinion. Typically this is an aesthetic, props, etc.

#a massive man in uniform: This tag applies to men in police, firefighter, military, and sometimes particularly formal attire. Anything that could pass as a Halloween costume if needed, basically? If I think the clothes he's wearing make him hot because of what they represent, it goes here.

#dressed for excess: This tag applies to men who are peeking out of, bursting out of, or otherwise struggling to fit into the clothes that they are wearing. Tight clothes, but also shirts riding up.

#geek physique: This tag applies to men who have props that make them seem like big geeks or nerds. Video game console? D&D paraphernalia?

Kinks

These tags describe other kinks that for me, overlap and intertwine with gaining & encouraging, but are separate enough that they're tagged to represent that flavor of post.

#bound to immobility: This tag refers to an emphasis on immobility, difficulty moving, etc. Anything in the realm of immobility kink goes here.

#funhealthy lifestyle: This tag refers to an emphasis on unhealthy gaining. Unhealthy eating, sedentary lifestyle, smoking if I ever find a post like that I'm into which is rare...

#measure twice cut once: This tag refers to an emphasis on measurement and numbers. Tape measurements, stats about clothing sizes, popping buttons, etc.

#temple to gluttony: This tag refers to an emphasis on feederism, food, chugging, and similar things that are visceral and physical and specifically highlighting eating.

[Will be updated as I write up more of my tagging system.]

[gorgin-gals-muses]

“I’m always down for more Yuma~”

He winked at both of them, then crawled up the sea of lard that Yuma was, laying before her face and gently cupping her fat cheeks. He smiled brightly

“Hello~”

"H-h'llo... Mmmmphh..." Yuma huffed out as Wool cupped her cheeks. For someone who gained weight at or above her chest only rarely, the fat of her face had now far exceeded Shinigami's, as huge and doughy as her belly used to be, now that her actual belly was comfortably within the weight of a small car. Wool felt Shinigami descend over on top of him, her floating fat blanketing his back and shoulders as she plugged the nozzle into Yuma's face and got it to work.

"Mhmhm, you know who's milk is in that thing? I'll let you take a guess, it's not Monika's! ...Yet."

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Dumpling (@achubbydumpling) reblogged my chubby Bucky Orbeez belly post (x) with the tags:

#bear bear bear bear bear bear bear bear bear bear #I'm fine I swear just 😳😳 *bear* #and Steve's comments about him bulking for winter!!!

And it set off a bomb in my head. So, welcome back, Dumpling. You're already making me feral. Have this as an offering 😂

Warning for unbeta'd stucky belly kink ahead, lots of stuffing, bloating, tight clothes, talk of weight gain/eventual immobility, animal play (nickname "bear"), humiliation/teasing, etc.

It’s been a long day of training recruits at Stark Tower (Steve never liked the look of that building. It’s a big eyesore as far as he’s concerned. But, he’s at least come to appreciate the people in it more and more, especially now that he isn’t the ring leader, it’s Sam’s turn to do all that, making commands). So, Steve is more than happy to be home, shouldering his way through their front door, shrugging out of his leather jacket, shoes, and listening for any sort of noise that might indicate where Bucky is inside. He’s really looking forward to seeing Bucky again. Even 8 hours can feel like too long to be away.

There’s ambient noise from the TV, so Steve heads there first. When he gets there…

His boyfriend makes the perfect picture of sloth. Laziness. Lethargy. All of that.

It's clear as day, he hasn't moved in the 8 hours Steve has been gone. Clearly, he isn't aware that Steve's back yet, zoning out, staring at the TV. The light flickering and dancing over his face, highlighting the new fullness in his cheeks and the expanded softness underneath what once was a very sharp jaw. He's so invested in whatever show or movie is playing that he doesn't know how much he's eating. It wouldn't surprise Steve if he didn't know he was eating at all. There are bags and bags of snack food piled on the coffee table, a few settled next to his marshmallow soft thighs spread out, large and puffy, on the couch, and even a few bags overflowing onto the floor. Amongst all the processed crap from their well-stocked pantry (living through the Depression will do that to a man, making him stock up like a doomsday prepper) are trays and dishes of microwavable or oven-ready frozen food. The kind that tastes mostly alright but certainly aren’t alright if you're trying to watch your weight. Chalked full of sugar and fat and salt and chemicals that are better not thought about.

Worst of all, Bucky has zoned so far out, eyes trained on the TV, uncaring about everything else, that there's a true pile or crumbs on the top of his gut and speckling his round, girlish chest. His moobs.

He looks like a size 2 sausage in a size 1 casing… maybe a size 3 or 4, even with how his soft fat is bursting out of his poor clothes. Another Depression mindset there, huh, Steve thinks to himself, Bucky has had those (once loose) basketball shorts and that red Henley for months on months. They don't look comfortable, and they're worn out, but he's still crammed himself onto them. Steve knows from doing the laundry that the elastic of those shorts has long given up. It's so worn out and demoralized that the elastic has started to fray apart with strings and rubbery pieces crushed under the weight of Bucky's big belly and accompanying equally huge hips and love handles. The legs, as strangely loose and baggy as they seemed when first becoming acquainted with the future and new fashion, can hardly contain the girth of his thighs. Steve is surprised his legs haven't worn through the inside seams or that they haven't burst when he bends down with an overburdened groan to forage through the lower cabinets. His shirt, though, somehow, his shirt is worse off. It's probably because he's had it for longer. The fabric has been worn so, so thin, Steve can see the tone of his skin through parts of the shirt and… in other places he doesn't need to see through the shirt because the henley has risen up, not even bothering to try and cover his excess fat. Like right now.

Right now, Bucky is zoned out but he's continued to shovel food into his gaping maw like he's starving (far from it, truthfully) and so he hasn't thought to try and make himself decent. The stretched, worn fabric has given up the fight, rolling up to expose more than half of his dome-like gut. It's just… hanging out.

So achingly thick and fat, and marked deeply, lovingly with stretch marks that are so intense they look like he's been clawed at. Thick. Reddish purple. Flushed. He's getting so big! So fast! His skin (and the serum) can't dream of keeping up with his out of control appetite. Steve can hear Bucky's fuzzy tummy churning and sloshing with the unbearable amount of calories he's crammed down his throat from across the room, over the sound of the TV.

Bucky belches and Steve, Lord have mercy, can only stare at the way his belly jolts and quivers. The movement of his swollen, balloon belly is an earthquake that shakes his tits, too. He's so big. Swollen. Steve knows his chest, even though his struggling shirt contains it (for now), is also marked up. It’s literally bursting at the seams with how fat he's making himself. Uncontrollably eating and stuffing and growing. Putting on ample winter weight. But even if he can't see those stretch marks on his chest through his sad excuse for a shirt, Steve can see the engorged outline of his tits, smushed up against the neckline and begging to spill out. His stretched nipples, the cutest shade of pink, are hard and jutting out through the thin fabric.

Suddenly, Steve has to swallow, his mouth flooding with saliva. He licks his lips, imagining tonguing his sensitive nipples through his shirt, making them harder and forcing Bucky to try (and fail) to squirm away, his thick body jiggling in waves. He imagines pulling Bucky's shirt down. He would have to smack his buttery middle until he whimpers and finally sucks in so Steve can fit him back in his shirt. Then, Steve would tease his belly button through the shirt. Maybe he'd lick his belly button, too. Maybe he would bite the hang of his gut where his fat is the thickest and softest.

Steve shivers in place, finding that he can't just stand here and watch anymore. He needs to intervene in the session of gluttony his boyfriend is mindlessly plowing through.

As he walks into the room, getting closer to the mess that Bucky is and the mess he's made, the impulse to touch only gets worse. He's so delectable. Huge and fat. Radiating heat. The hair on his belly is fuzzy and the same deep brown of the hair on the top of his head. Steve is so fucking glad he's decided to let his body hair be. Steve’s developed a thing for Bucky's longer hair - he will never tire of watching Bucky pull it back into a bun. But he’s developed another thing, too. A thing for the hair on his chest, the hair on his tummy (especially), the hair on his legs, even on the hair on his forearms. He looks so… masculine. He’s got this great beer belly shape to him. He can't fool Steve, though, he's all sugar and sweets and food. None of that fat is hard, alcohol-fueled weight. It’s all junk. Anyway, he’s shaped like a big, excessively spoiled, fat man and he's hairy like a man. It's, actually, reminiscent of a teddy bear. Or a real bear - a brown bear. Heavy, fat, and lumbering.

To break him out of his food-coma and brain-melted-TV-coma state, Steve smacks the side of his belly the moment he can, standing in front of him, awed at just how dedicated he is to growing and getting stupid. No thoughts. Just TV. Just calories. Entertainment. Nothing else.

Bucky jumps as much as he can. Which, spoiler, isn't much. He's all bloated and weighted down.

“Look at this thing!” Steve smacks his gut again, the sound satisfying and the look even more satisfying. It's so unbelievably tight at the top. His stomach is undoubtedly stretched to the point of almost popping, but he's got so much fat that all of him still wobbles like extra firm jello. His hands still sink into inches of excess fat. It's all excess. He's excessive. Staying home and doing fucking nothing but adding to his widening ass.

Bucky, once he recovers from his initial shock of being snuck up on (some great assassin he makes), he squawks. Good naturedly offended.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all day, big guy?” Steve asks, sitting down next to him (ignoring the crunch of an empty chip bag (or two) under his ass, he'll pick up after his big butterball later), already knowing the answer and not bothering to wait for his reply. “You’ve been so lazy lately, Buck,” he scolds, gleefully watching how Bucky’s eyes slide shut like he’s savoring it. “The cold weather must be getting to you, huh? Making you crave hot cocoa, soup, and…” Steve looks around, licking his lips, “everything? You tryna get more insulated for the season or what? Goddamn. You are packing it on.”

Even though he really has been stuffing himself like he’s getting ready to hibernate, bedding down in a dim, quiet place surrounded by comfortable blankets and pillows but also a huge, fuzzy gut extending out from him, big enough to be its own entity, Bucky shakes his head insistently, talking through his latest mouthful of over-processed, crappy food, “nohh lazyy, ‘ard work!” He barely keeps all the food in his mouth, his cheeks pooched out, full and bloated. It should be gross. It isn't.

He's so fucking hungry he just can’t stop. It's hot.

Hard work, my ass, Steve thinks. But… also, Steve takes inventory of just how flushed he is and…

Maybe it is hard work.

His face is beet red, his blush diffusing up into his hairline and over his ears as well as spreading all the way down his neck. Hell, his chest is probably red, too. Hot to the touch like he has a fever instead of being too well insulated. His belly is definitely red, too. Steve can see it. There’s no need to imagine. That fucking thing is still hanging out and still bloating bigger. Stretched extremely. So packed and tight that all of his blood is being redirected to send the energy he needs to digest mountains of food. It’s hard work to metabolize through pure sugar and fat.

Bucky’s flushed head to toe and sweating terribly. Sweating like a pig.

Still, Steve shakes his head, letting out a single, “ha!” Before murmuring in sarcastic disbelief, “stuffing your fat face is hard work? Yeah, right, bear. Bulking comes naturally to you.”

Bucky shakes his head more frantically as he finishes chewing and swallows.

“It's’hard!” He protests.

Steve has a million jokes immediately. Hard. Yeah.

As Bucky shakes his head more, his double chin triples for a moment. Steve has to fight a moan from coming up. He's so soft.

Then, to show how much he means it - it’s hard work - he plucks at his barely surviving shirt, un-scrunching the fabric to reveal the crescent moon sweat stains from under his flabby, heavy breasts. Steve just raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. So, next, Bucky lifts his arms clumsily - the wings of fat under his upper arms jiggling - to show that he’s also got wicked pit stains from getting so hot.

“You’re sweating? Pfft. Anything would make you sweat, tubby, you’re so out of shape.” Steve teases him, loving the reaction he’s getting. Hot and bothered. He's saying it to say it. Bucky has a lot of shape these days. Much better shape than the soldier he once was. “You can hardly lumber around the apartment without getting red in the face. Waddling from one room to the next means you need a minute to catch your breath like you've actually done something impressive.” Steve laughs meanly. “Honey, even the tuckered out, sore, and barely-trained new recruits I've been working with could beat you after a day of working out!”

“But my belly hurts!” Bucky protests again, whining, “my abs are all stretched out! ‘M sore, too!” He pouts, huffing, “‘s not fair to me either.” When he crosses his big (fat, not muscle, not anymore) arms over his chest, all he succeeds in doing is looking more adorably grumpy and giving himself deep, deep cleavage. It's not intimidating in the slightest.

Steve's mouth actually goes dry, eyes lost in his cleavage for a moment. That can't stop him, though. He's having too much fun with Bucky. Teasing him. What's he gonna do anyway? He can't fucking move. “Abs?” Steve recovers enough to draw a curved line down the front of his heavy, round belly where there used to be an impressive cut between rock-solid muscle. “Oh, Buck, honey, you don’t have those. They're all gone.”

Bucky whines, but the wiggle of his oversized hips says otherwise to his verbal complaints. He's enjoying this.

“You couldn’t even pull yourself off the couch if I tried to make you,” Steve lays it on thick, pinching all the extra flab he can fit between his four fingers and thumb. An overflowing handful. “There’s no way you’d be able to do a single fuckin’ sit up. Your abs are long, long gone.”

Bucky huffs at him, wiggling again, trying to prove him wrong.

Steve watches him, hot to the core, as he struggles to sit up straighter, less reclined into the soft couch with all his soft mass, then struggles to work around the ball of his tummy, trying to reach forward, leaning over the expansive thing, and do… something, anything. He can't. His fingers wiggle in mid-air, arms out straight in front of him.

Overall, he barely moves an inch. A sheen of sweat glistens above his upper lip.

Steve represses a shiver when he realizes his blue-grey eyes locked on target, that he's reaching for a box of snack cakes. Oatmeal creme sandwich cookies. A classic. He can't ever resist them. He’s got a tooth for everything, but especially sweets. And even with the feast spread out around them, it's a miracle any of the oatmeal creme pies are surviving in that box, let alone 4 of them. There were 12 in the box, that's only 3/4ths of it! He can do better. Steve will help him do better, like he always does. He's so nice.

Bucky flops heavily back onto the couch, panting impressively hard for having done no work at all. He blows a lock of hair out of his face. His chest and belly are heaving.

Without opening his mouth, just looking at him, Steve communicates, I told you so. He sighs, satisfied, and neatly and easily bends at the waist to reach the box himself, “you ate your way right outta that fit, little body, a long, long time ago, Buck. Now look at yourself.” He manhandles some of his big, big body. Jiggling waves of fat. Fuck. Before he gets too carried away, Steve shakes out one of the snack cakes.

And Bucky moans softly as Steve tears the clear plastic packaging of one of the cookies, opening it and positing himself to feed him.

Holding it to his lips, watching his pretty, white teeth and full, pink lips and wet tongue, Steve talks him through downing more calories on an already overfull stomach, “and, oof, baby, the way you’re going, you’re never gonna get that summer body back.” Shaking his head when Bucky takes another ravenous, large bite, he adds, “you're like a bear! Packin’ it on for winter, but…” Steve clicks his tongue, pretending to be disapproving rather than drooling over the mind-melting changes. All the weight. Piling on. Rolls on rolls on rolls. Inches added to his waist (and his everything). “Not even months of sleeping off all this food is gonna make you skinny again.”

Bucky finishes the snack cake. He burps.

“There’s not gonna be any seasonal fluctuations. You’re too greedy. You won't let that happen, will you, bear?” Steve smirks, smacking his tender belly hard enough to leave him whining. He shakes his head. Steve smacks him again. “No, you won't. You’re too fat! So fat. And you love it. All this winter weight, it's gonna stick around.”

Bucky shakes in place, both from the anticipation, imagining all that heavy, heavy, hot weight appearing on his body all at once. Ballooning. Expanding. Growing. Getting bigger and bigger and bigger now, putting on hundreds of pounds immediately. Now. Please. And from the more immediate threat of Steve opening another little cake. He’s relentless.

Bucky bites into it anyway. Eyes rolling back into his head.

“Next winter, you’re just gonna be bigger. Then, the winter after that, you're gonna be bigger, too.” Steve could coo at how Bucky nods, thoughtless and docile. “You're gonna be the fattest bear ever. Definitely the fattest I’ve ever seen with this fuzzy tummy dragging on the ground between your thick thighs and arms.”

Lips smacking, Bucky demolishes the last of the oatmeal creme pie, “more?” He begs, eyes soft and round. Just as soft and round as he is. Though it's hard to match…

Really hard.

His stomach is actively bloating bigger. Expanding like a marshmallow in the microwave. Steve lets his mouth run, smashing the next and next snack cake into him, feverishly rambling, “you're gonna be overheating in your cave, Buck. Too fat for winter, hmm? You ever heard of that?”

Crumbs on his face, hands on his overburdened gut, trying and failing to soothe the bursting-at-the-seams ache of his stomach and stretching fat, Bucky tells him no with another shake of his head. He's even redder now. Sweatier. Working harder. Panting. Moaning softly through every heaving, gasping breath. Too much. Too much. Not enough.

“Well, it's gonna be you, bear,” Steve growls, letting his boyfriend lick the remaining sugar from his fingers, wiping his hands on his stretched-out shorts, and then joining him to grab and massage and shake his gurgling, expanding belly, “you're gonna be a bear too big, with so much lard packed onto ‘im that he could survive winters back to back to back without having to bulk back up in between. Hell, how're you even gonna crawl in your cave and bed down, bear? You're too big for the entrance now, I bet. Can't fit through! What am I gonna do with you?”

Bucky groans, his head thrown back. His thick, pale, fat neck looks juicy and tempting. Steve wants to bite him, he wants to choke him, he wants to shove a hose down that throat and funnel calories into him to really blow him up.

“What. am. I. gonna. do. with. you?” Steve wonders, smacking and pinching and groping his sensitive belly to punctuate each word.

Miraculously, Bucky answers, crying out, “feed me! Feed me more!”

“More, bear?” Steve nearly chokes in disbelief, “how are you gonna fit more in you!? You're already so big! I don't think you can get bigger without exploding.”

“Wanna be,” he slurs, drunk, head lulling to the side and eyes glassy, “wanna be heavier.”

“You'll break our bed,” Steve whispers harshly, rubbing big circles on his massive belly. Trying to touch as much of it as possible at once. He fucking loves this jelly belly.

“Don't- don't care,” he pants, his poor, poor shirt has rolled up more, covering exactly none of his bear’s gut. It's aaaaaall hanging out. Flabby yet tight and marked. “You said! Too big for my den. Wanna be.”

“Ohh, you wanna get stuck in the doorway, hm? These fat hips too damn big to get through.” Steve chuckles to himself, playing with his body, fat and doughy all over, “gonna come home one day and find you like fuckin’ Winnie the Pooh, aren't I, baby? With your head stuck in a jar of honey, belly too wide to get outta the fuckin’ front door. But you're too dumb to learn your lesson aren't you? You'll do it again. Stuff yourself again. Bigger. Fatter. You just keep forgetting that you don't need to put on more weight.” He frowns theatrically.

Bucky whimpers. All needy and desperate. He's plush with extra weight. So touchable and firm and blubbery.

“Oh, bear, you're so stupid,” Steve coos, “it's precious. You're just so greedy, and you can't help it. It's instinctual. More more more. You just want more. You wanna bulk up and hibernate constantly, won't be happy until you’re one huge blimp.”

“Yea-h, yeahh, I can't, can't help it,” Bucky works out the words, still catching his breath. It's not helping that Steve is touching him like he's a giant stress ball. Squeezing. Groping. Feeling all that heavy, heavy food sitting in his poor, abused belly.

“I just don't know what to do with you, bear! You don't know what's good for you, and you're getting so terribly fat.” He clicks his tongue, “tsk, tsk, but I can't help it, either, just look at that sweet face! How am I supposed to say no to you? Even when you're too heavy to get off your fat ass and you're telling me to get you more…” he sighs, “I can’t help it. So. I hope you're ready to balloon, bear. ‘Cause there's no stopping you.”

“Yes!” Bucky moans through a hiccup, “bigger!”

[valrvn]

Help!

Rough draft form for the artist directory, I need input, especially tagging for kinks I don't have (vore, blueberry, inflation).

3 Images Name: Platforms: (tumblr, DeviantArt, twitter, Furaffinity, etc.,) Support the Artist: (Ko-Fi, Patreon) Content:

preg tags: fpreg, mpreg, tfpreg, tmpreg, nbpreg additional preg tags: lactation, breast inflation, ass inflation, hucow, pregnancy weight gain, stretchmarks, birth, labor, breeding, oviposition

weightgain: bbw, bhm, ssbbw, ssbhm, immobility, stuffing, force feeding, feedism additional weightgain tags: slob, burping, gas, pear shape, noisy digestion, hupig

vore tags: softvore, hardvore, female pred, male pred, female prey, male prey additional vore tags: noisy digestion

blueberry tags:

inflation tags:

general tags: teratophilia, furry, milf, dilf, transformation, bimbofication, ftm, mtf, femboy