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yayakoishii · 5 months

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hi! could i request for fluff and comfort with ace? there was this one reddit post i saw abt a guy who rambled abt being so grateful and happy that he's loved by his girlfriend, and the post described how he felt that way when they were having a bath together (nonsexual, i promise! feel free to look the reddit post up). i thought the prompt suited ace so much, esp since the guy in that reddit post mentioned that he cried out of happiness, so maybe smth like this with ace x fem!reader?

ofc, feel free to skip if it makes u uncomfy ^^

~ ♠️ anon

shower me in your love | Ace x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Warning(s): Nudity (non-sexual)

A/n: I loved this idea so much anon, I was so excited to write it for so long TT but post-exam creativity block really hit hard so this is a bit later than I had hoped to put out. Also, you asked for fem!reader but I think this fic never specified any body parts or pronouns at any point, so it ended up gender neutral haha... This is my first time attempting to write Ace, so please forgive any oocness ><

Please do not ask me the mechanics of a bathtub on a pirate ship and let's just pretend that can work out because the sea is on my side, 'kay? I hope you enjoy ♡ and thank you for the request!

also available on ao3!

The sun had dipped beneath the horizon but the sky was still clinging onto a fading orange. Above him, it was already starting to look like a dark midnight blue mixing into violet. Ace's shoulders slouched, the tension seeping out as he made his way to his sleeping quarters. The day had been hectic, and even the usually energised division commander was feeling a bit exhausted.

Ace couldn't wait to drop into his bed and fall asleep but the plan went out the window when he opened his door to find you sitting on his bed, your back to him.

"Hey," he called out, making you snap your neck around. Just the sight of your bright smile got a little more tension out of him. You bounced up to him, hands immediately coming up to cradle his face. You pulled him into a soft kiss and Ace exhaled slowly, pressing his body into your own soft one.

Out of the two of you, Ace was definitely the one with the higher body temperature but somehow, when you hugged, he couldn't help but feel that you were more… warmer. It was a different sort of warmth than physical– more emotional, he supposed. You felt a little bit like coming home, like coming to a fireplace after a day out in the snow.

"Hey," you said quietly, pulling back just enough to admire his face. He didn't have to say anything; he could see the understanding on your face with just one glance. "It's been an exhausting day, huh?"

"Mm," he didn't feel like talking about it, instead opting to drop his head on your shoulder. Ace pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, taking the familiar light scent of you. You giggled at the sensation, playfully pushing him without any real strength to it.

"That tickles!"

"You smell amazing," he whispered. You blushed, pushing at him with a bit more strength now.

"I'm sweaty, what do you mean?" You huffed out another short laugh. "And so are you, mister. C'mon, how about a nice hot bath, hm? I already set it up for the both of us while waiting."

Ace finally pulled away, looking at you with the softest expression. This time, he was the one to cradle your face in his hands. Pressing a light kiss on your forehead, he murmured a quiet admission of love. Gentle hands guided him toward the bathroom, shutting the doors behind him. Ace stood there as you removed his clothes and accessories with somewhat practised hands. When the both of you were undressed, you pulled him into the bathtub and sat down in between his legs.

This close, you could feel that Ace was running warmer than even the hot water around you. He quickly pressed a peck on the tip of your nose to surprise you, then grabbed the bottle of shampoo and soap to start but you stopped him. You took the shampoo out of his hands and smiled warmly when he looked at you with curiosity.

"How about I wash you today?" There was a hint of shyness in your voice, along with a sparkling in your eyes. Ace just nodded dumbfoundedly, watching you carefully squeeze out some of the shampoo into your hands. "Alright, stay still, I'll go sit behind you."

You stood up, the water splashing a bit as you carefully manoeuvred around to sit on the edge of the tub that was attached to the wall. Ace let your free hand guide his frame in between your legs and waited for a few seconds.

The moment your shampoo lathered finger dipped into his hair, he felt boneless. You weren't even doing much, just carding your fingers and working out the tangles as you ensured that the shampoo properly washed the roots and the tips, but it felt so good.

Ace couldn't really remember the last time someone touched him with such gentleness, such care and love. (He couldn't even remember who would have touched him like that the last time. Was it his mother?) You hummed a song he had heard you singing in passing, as you pressed your fingers into his scalp for a slight massage.

Another shaky exhale left his mouth along with the last remaining tension in his shoulders. Ace closed his eyes. With a soft hum, he pressed his head back into your stomach, heart singing at the sound of your giggle echoing in the small bathroom.

"Hey!" You said indignantly, pushing at his foam covered head. "Don't put your shampoo on my stomach."

It made Ace smile and he obliged, leaning his head away. You didn't touch him for a few minutes and he cracked his eyes open to look around at you, to find that you were shampooing your own hair now. You slid down into the tub and he made some space between the wall and him so you could sit properly. Once you were done, you wiped off the foam on your hand and switched to the soap.

"Alright, c'mere, my big baby," you grunted, trying to pull him by his arm. He blinked then let you pull him into the position you wanted. And then you are sitting in his lap, soap being lathered onto his skin with diligent hands. He didn't say anything and just stared quietly at you from the close proximity.

Normally, having you in his lap would get him a little… excited, but today, the action was so non-sexual and domestic, it seemed to hurt. Every movement and word you had said felt mind-numbingly relaxing. Half a year ago, if someone had suggested he would be in this position with you, he would have laughed and called them to get their marbles checked.

Right now though, he couldn't believe his own luck as your fingers dragged over him with a gentleness he had yet to experience from elsewhere. He was strong. Everyone knew that. You knew that. But even knowing that, you always touched him so softly, so gently, that it made him feel like he was made out of fragile brittle glass.

He kinda liked it.

To be vulnerable in front of you only was something he could agree to. No one had ever been this patient and loving towards him, and the fact that he loved you too much to even put it into words crashed around inside him as he watched you soap yourself up.

You were beautiful, obviously. He had to be blind to not notice how gorgeous you were. But sometimes, he couldn't help but think that your real beauty lies in how you just fit in with everyone so well. You were understanding, you were kind and you were there whenever anyone needed you. You were there when Ace needed you. And even though you were there for him, silently understanding what he needed, you never expected anything back for it. It was purely an act of love.

He wasn't talking much like usual today, but you didn't say anything about it. You only continued in your actions, washing away the soap and the shampoo with the water. Ace continued to stare at you, wondering if you were really real.

You were so good to him. He remembered when Marco had mentioned after you announced your relationship that you were good for him. He hadn't really understood the depth of that sentence until now. Until this moment, sitting in his bathtub that was definitely not made for two people, as you washed him even though he was a grown adult who could do it himself.

And it wasn't really about the ability to do it, was it? It was more about the feelings and the thoughts behind the action– it was about the care you felt. Of course you knew he could do it– but you wanted to do it for him anyway because you loved him.

You loved him so much, he couldn't help but feel thoroughly loved and blessed. You, who could have fallen in love with anyone, had fallen in love with him. On his down days, he couldn't help but think that you deserved better than him. Right now though, he couldn't think of anything else but the fact that he was so grateful that you chose him out of everyone.

Whatever made you choose him– he would forever be grateful to it. You were the best thing to happen to him.

"Ace?" Your concerned voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked at you. You were done cleaning off both of you, but you were back in his lap. Familiar hands came up to wipe away what Ace realised were tears streaming down his face. He felt a little mortified that he cried over something so small but, like always, it was like you could read his mind. "It's not insignificant if it makes you feel something so strong. Just let it out, hm?"

He didn't really need your 'permission', but the moment you said that, his body seemed to take it as the cue to cry even more. Warm tears rolled down his cheeks and he felt you guide his face into the crook of your neck– you knew he felt embarrassed about crying in front of you. You just did it to let him save face; you let him hide his face in your embrace.

Ace sobbed into your neck, body shaking as he felt your fingers card through his hair and draw hearts into his back, over his tattoo. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the tears finally stopped.

"Let's dry up?" Your eyes were soft as you helped him stand up and out of the bathtub. "And then we can cuddle in bed all night. How does that sound?"

You didn't need to say it out loud to let him know how you felt. Ace watched you wrap a towel around him and then yourself, the unspoken words lingering in the air alongside the steam.

"Sounds amazing."

I love you too.

°•❀•°

all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

★ Taglist for Ace:

@toertchen | @boomboom-tanjiro2019 | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki

let me know if you want to be added/removed!

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bandgie · 1 month

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Do Not Touch | Armageddon Event

Request: Death | Kim Hongjoong (ATZ) by ♠️anon! song!

warnings! MDNI18+, unconsensual exhibitionism!!, somno (reader isn't touched), fem!reader, masturbaiting (m!), cum on face, descriptions of blowjob but reader doesn't give one

notes!: Jesus fucking christ this was so hard to write omfg.

1.1k words

Even with one touch, Hongjoong is sure you’d be dead.

Quite an exaggeration on his part, but true nonetheless. The Horsemen of Death can kill with a touch, a stare, or a whisper. Any creature dead by him simply thinking it.

When Hongjoong was first personified, this power was great. It gave him the ability to wipe out life on Earth with ease. Not that it’s happened yet, he and his brothers are waiting for the signal to begin the apocalypse, but their Father has stayed silent.

So they wandered Earth. They explored the different lands on their own, coming to actually enjoy some aspects of humanity. But Hongjoong found what humans call a reason worth living for.

You lay asleep, breathing softly and steadily. Summer is hot so there's no need for a blanket to lay with. Your bare legs bend at the knee, creating a pretty curve with your hands tucked underneath your head on your side.

Death has a presence, it always does. That’s why even on this hot night, you shiver.

Goosebumps are raised on your skin by Hongjoong’s proximity. He can’t quite tell if he likes watching your human instinct react to him this way, but he doesn’t find himself hating it either.

Your lips just look so cute, quivering. They pinken from the blood rushing, a subtle blush on your face.

Hongjoong has come close to touching you. Feeling how warm your skin may be. He’s stopped just mere inches from your face, curling his fingers into a fist and forcing them at his sides instead.

That’s happening again. Thoughts of tracing your lips and brushing his thumb against the bottom one almost make him reach out. It almost makes him do something he knows he could never undo.

So Hongjoong stares. He stares and stares until his thoughts turn darker and more sinful. He thinks about how pretty those lips would look wrapped around him, sleepily lapping your tongue on the head of his cock.

What if he just ran his tip on you instead? Guiding his cock around your lips over and over until it smears with pre-cum. You’d wake up, you’d have to. In his filthy imagination, you’d open your mouth eagerly. You’d take his length inch by inch, propping yourself on your elbow to make sure he can properly fit.

Something in him stirs. A feeling he can’t quite place but one he’s not unfamiliar with. It’s a pressure in his cock, a warmness in his stomach. He’s felt this when he watched you change. When he first saw the true differences between yours and his body. It felt personal, intimate, wrong. When he told his brothers about this foreign feeling, Famine had laughed.

You’re starving, Hongjoong.

He didn’t quite understand what he meant then, but Hongjoong knows now. This hunger is more than merely sustenance. It’s primitive and it makes him feel more alive than he ever has before.

He can’t stop himself from sneaking a hand down, fumbling with the zipper, and reaching for his erection to pull out between the slit of his boxers.

The new heart in his chest beats quickly. It drums in his ears and veins when he sees how close your face is to his freed cock. It’s almost as though it’s trying to scream at him, to tell him to stop and leave. But no matter how loud the blood rushing in his body shouts, it’s no match for the simple fact that this entire thing feels…good.

Pumping his cock feels good. Feeling your warm breaths waft over him feels good. A sound wants to escape his throat. Hongjoong bares his teeth, trying to keep himself at bay, but experiencing such pleasure makes it near impossible.

“Fuck.” He whispers. His chest deeply expands with every inhale. Every exhale sounds more like a sigh. Hongjoong can’t help the rocking of his hips, trying to fuck himself into his own fists.

With a tight grip, he pulls his hand up. His knees buckle from the sensation of his tip being rubbed. It’s almost too painful, too much for Hongjoong to handle. Your mouth would make a much better substitute. He’s seen human kissing on the streets. He’s seen how the gentle smacks feel both uncomfortable and interesting to watch.

You must be able to do that with his cock, he thinks. Purse your lips just like he’s seen and place pecks on his shaft. Maybe you’d hold him at the base just to kiss under his cock, licking the sensitive part just below his head. Then, when his dick is shining with cum and spit, you’d part your lips and finally take him whole.

There are so many ways you could take him. Gently, slowly, roughly, quickly, and he’d endure it all.

Hongjoong usually stops when he feels that high building. The orgasm bubbles in his stomach and makes him shudder, briefly stopping his motions to cup himself instead. He’s thinking about it now, stopping. But with you being under him, blissfully unaware and asleep, he can’t find it in himself to do such a thing.

He pretends his hand is your mouth. Soft sounds of slickness fill the air, but Hongjoong keeps his pace.

He imagines his tip touching the back of your throat. He can see the tears in your eyes, feel the convulsing of your throat on his cock. A small moan manages to escape through his clenched teeth, causing you to stir just slightly.

It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Hongjoong doesn’t slow down in the slightest when spurts of cum land on your face. His release shoots in strings, wet and warm right onto your pretty, unknowing lips.

Unconsciously, you jerk back. Hongjoong stills in his place, covering his spurting dick with the palm of his hand.

Your eyes don’t open. You only turn to the other side, as if the cum of your face is nothing but a fly bothering you in your sleep.

Finally, Hongjoong breathes. His inhales are shaky - guilty. He has to shamefully tuck his cock back where it was and raises his hand to his face.

Cum drips down his wrist, trickling down his elbow until it will inevitably fall onto your floor. Hongjoong ignores the morbid curiosity of tasing his own release and wipes his hand on his shirt instead.

What’s worse is he doesn’t feel bad. Yes, he feels that disbelief and disgust with himself, but he doesn't feel it enough. What he feels is the desire to do it tomorrow night. And the next one after that. And after that.

Not being able to touch you only pushes him harder to try. He’ll come up with better plans, he’ll find loopholes.

After all, he has yet to discover the use of gloves.

#smut #atz smut #ateez smut #armageddon event!#hongjoong #Hongjoong atz #Hongjoong ateez #Hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateezsmut #ateez kim hongjoong #♠️ anon!

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daily-klug · 1 day

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KLUG #100

I am so sorry for those whose asks weren't counted in! If I HAD put them in, I would either had to overwork myself or delay it, and I don't want that, do not worry though!! Your request will still be completed during the days that follow this post

Anyways, thank you! Thank you for all the support you have given me during the past 100 days, wether it would be something as small as an ask or even a like, it means a lot to me :) I recognize everyone's name when they interact with my posts, and I am genuinely so grateful to have a community as sweet and nice as you all

Thank you, for everything <3

This sounds like a goodbye post guys I am NOT stopping daily-klug CALM DOWN

#milestone #🍎 anon #🦀 anon #♠️👻 anon #daily klug #klug #klug puyo puyo #puyo puyo klug #puyo puyo #puyoposting #art #my art #artists on tumblr #artwork

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a-not-so-clean-blog · 5 months

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Eiden x top FTM reader ♠️

The foxes toys. 1800 words

Reader keeps shirt on. Magic dildo.

Being with Eiden has been an absolute rollercoaster. You had met only a few months ago when he just came to this world, lost and almost out of his element. Despite being in a whole new world his charm and charisma was electric.

You were well aware of his growing clan, and how he stabilizes their essence. While physically you have an open relationship there is no doubt that you are the only one who has his heart. The clan members are also fully aware of you. Some are definitely more welcoming than others, but all in all you get along with them fairly well.

“Hey Eiden, I'd like to try something different tonight.” You ask as you sit next to him on the bed. He instantly perked up hearing that chime in your voice that he knows is going to lead to a fun night.

“I'm always down to try something new!” The spark of interest and excitement in his eyes shone like stars. The look only got brighter as you opened a bag filled to the brim with different shaped sex toys. “Where did you get all of these?!” He was surprised but his voice quivered in excitement as he picked up one of the toys and it started vibrating in his palm.

“I may have asked the fox to let me borrow them…” You blush a little when his eyes snap to meet yours, instantly suspicious.

He let out a low hum. “He never does anything without it benefitting him as well. What exactly did borrowing these cost you?” He asked slowly and rightfully cautious. Thankfully one look down at his pants and anyone could see he hadn't lost any of his excitement, maybe he even got a little more turned on.

You shrug. “He just wants to know which one gets the ‘best reactions’ from you.” Eiden gives a slight laugh at the air quotes. Any stress you had melted away at the sweet sound.

“That sounds pretty cheap for him, but I won't complain!” Eiden gives a toothy grin. “I don't want to waste any more time.” He takes your hand and guides it to his thigh. You chuckle softly at his eagerness. Cute and earnest, if a little demanding.

You gently push him back on the bed and take your time unbuttoning his pants. His breath hitched when you pulled his pants and boxers down around his knees. His cock sprung up and slapped himself in the stomach, letting out the sweetest whimper when you pulled away.

“What are you doing?” Eiden shut his mouth when you started to strip off your pants. His heart raced when he saw how erect your little dick was too. No matter how many times he gets to see your body he always thinks it was something glorious. He would easily worship you if you'd let him.

Taking out a blue dildo you turned it over a few times in your hand before looking at Eiden. It had a few straps attached to it and Eiden knew exactly what it was for.

“Kuya said I have to wait to use this, but said I should wear it for a while first.” You gasped softly when you put the base of the dildo to your tip and the soft material seemed to mold around your shape. You secured the straps around your waist and hips. It felt similar to wearing a jockstrap.

Eidens mouth was already watering at the sight of your new big blue dick but he only got more restless as you pulled out a few more toys, two small vibrators and a long tapered plug. He almost looked like a puppy trying to sit still while you dangle treats in front of him. You pushed him back down on the bed and took his pants all the way off discarding them in a heap on the floor, his shirt soon joining the mass of fabric.

There he laid completely bare for you, even spreading his legs to give better access to his cock and ass.

“Trying to make yourself more enticing for me?” You asked in a clearly teasing tone. Eidens smile just grew as he responded.

“Is it working?” You both already knew the answer but you also knew he got off on banter. He wanted to be a brat but was far too eager to commit.

“Yes.” You picked up one of the vibrators and settled yourself between his open legs. After turning it on to a low setting you gently pressed it against his tip. He flinched and moaned softly as you slowly slid it down his shaft and let it rest at the base for a moment before playing with his balls. Once you were satisfied with the sounds he was making you dropped the vibrator lower and pressed it against his tight sphincter. The vibrations slowly loosen the muscle until you could press the toy into his ass.

Eiden started squirming as it slipped in completely and started massaging his insides. It wasn't until after he stopped squirming did you put the plug into his ass. Slowly driving the vibrator deeper into him as well.

“Mmmnhh~” He moaned loudly as the plug popped into place securing itself and the other toy deep inside of him. You kissed up his neck and groped his chest as the toys worked their magic. He was already singing like a canary but you wanted more. Grabbing the last vibrator you turned it on and started pumping his cock with the vibrator snugly pressed between your palm and his twitching member.

His moans became louder as he struggled not to cum. He looked so hot that you couldn't help grinding your crotch into the bed. It felt so good that you wanted to melt but then again Eidens voice always made you feel euphoric.

Eiden reached up and grabbed your shirt by the collar pulling you towards him. He looked so needy, so desperate for you. It was exhilarating. You gave him exactly what he wanted in the form of a sloppy kiss that would make an incubus blush. When you pulled away Eiden had coated himself in a thin layer of his own cum.

“Awww, couldn't wait for me first~” He blushed as you teased him. He could barely think right now but still knew what he wanted, what he needed.

“I can't help that you know all my weak spots. Now hurry up and fuck me before I cum again.” He whined, shaking his hips up and down waiting for you to pull out the still humming vibrator and plug. The plug slipped out easily and the vibrator followed with a satisfying pop. Before he had a chance to complain about the emptiness you lined up your new cock to his ass.

Your knees almost gave out as you pushed the tip of the strap through his clenching ring of muscle. It felt like pleasure was injected straight into your nervous system making your whole body light up at once. The dildo was clearly enhanced because as you pressed the tip against Eidens hole you could feel the heat as if it was against your own skin.

“F-fuck, is this what your dick feels like? Gods I'm jealous.” You bit your lip to hold back your moans and you slid all the way in. Eidens face contorted into a starstruck pleasure. You had to stop though as small tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“Eiden? I'm sorry, did I hurt you?” You gently cupped his face as you started to pull out. Immediately his legs wrapped around your waist holding you in place. He shook his head softly as he nuzzled into your touch.

“I'm just happy that I get to be fucked by my boyfriend. I'm so happy-” You cut him off with another deep kiss. Your heart felt light as your tongues danced in each other's mouths. His mouth was sweet but his moans and whimpers were even sweeter.

When you started moving again his sounds only tasted better on your lips. As Eidens legs locked tighter around your hips it became troublesome to do long strokes, so instead your thrusts became harder and shallower. Eiden was loving every moment of it. One of his hands tangled itself into your hair while his other hand clenched around your shirt. Your arms caging Eiden beneath you as you pounded harder into his ass.

It felt amazing, feeling all his sweet spots from the inside. Every time you hit a spot he liked you could feel him clench around you. You could feel how hot his insides were and how smooth it felt on your cock. Your cock, YOUR cock. Yes, your cock finally piercing your wonderful boyfriend, truly it was a dream come true.

You kept going even after you could feel yourself coming to the edge. Your head felt fuzzy and your skin sweaty, but that just added to your pleasure. Eiden was getting close too, his hard cock bouncing against his stomach every time you thrust deep inside him.

You could feel your own orgasm beginning to overflow. You wanted to cum, you wanted nothing more than to cum and fill Eidens ass with your cum. You are so close, just a little more and-

“Nnnnh~” You let out a low moan as you cum hard, like something snapped inside your gut. A lewd warmth spread between your legs as you enjoyed the feeling. For a moment you felt Eiden clench around your dick as he came as well.

Eidens eyes went wide as he stared at you in shock and amazement. “What?”

“Did you just cum inside me?”

“.... WHAT?!” You both looked down and sure enough a thick liquid was dripping from Eidens spent hole. A thick blue liquid. When you came you didn't realize that the dildo also reacted and melted inside of Eiden, acting as artificial cum. “Well that explains why Kuya gave me like seven of these.” You started to finger Eidens ass and more of the blue goo leaked onto the bed. Eiden let out a tired moan as you fingered him and you let out a small laugh.

Pulling him close you kissed him on his temple and whispered in his ear. “Let's get you cleaned up. Knowing the fox I have a feeling this ooze has some extra properties, so unless you want to find out what he has planned…”

“I'll take a bath.” Eiden smiled tiredly. “I think I've cum enough for today.”

“I'll get it ready for you.” With another chase kiss you left to go draw him a warm bath. This turned out much better than you could have ever hoped. Unfortunately now you feel like you owe that old fox. That was probably why he didn't ask for much in the first place now that you think about it.

#nu carnival #nu carnival x reader #eiden x reader #ftm reader #trans reader #♠️#a degenerate writes #i am so sorry this took me so long anon! i didn't realize it had been literal months please forgive me!

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scoops-aboy86 · 9 days

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Southern Hospitality

Prompt Used: aftercare (@steddiesmuttyseptember) and and fluff (@softsteddieseptember) | Southern Hospitality | Rating: M | CW: weight gain, belly kink, stuffing kink, belly play | Additional Tags: chubby steve harrington, fat steve harrington, feeder eddie munson, alcohol, referenced spanking, masturbation, food as a love language, hedonism, steve harrington has bad parents, brief nancy being tactless

Steve’s parents make an implied appearance here, but not enough to fully tag for. He probably shouldn’t have driven home but no way was he staying overnight with them, so sorry for the suggested driving home intoxicated.

The fluff is in how Steve feels instantly better when he gets home, even though Eddie is asleep. 🥰

Also this was first inspired by an ask that I’ll post in a minute and link here. Thank you September challenges for giving me the kick to work on this again!

It’s not that Steve didn’t know Eddie knew how to cook before they’d moved in together. He just hadn’t realized the sheer scale—or he’d thought Eddie didn’t realize, at first. That the whole “It’s bad luck to have leftovers, Stevie” was a smooth redirect to encouraging him to enjoy more, savor everything, again and again. Eddie is phenomenal in the kitchen so it’s not like it’s a hardship or anything.

Maybe it’s a little bit that Steve is still smarting from Robin moving clear across the world for school, abandoning him. Far be it from him to actually voice any of those feelings… He’d just thought they were forever, you know? Platonic soulmates, attached at the hip for life. A bond that even some super cool P.h.D program in Europe couldn’t come between. She’d never asked him to come along, not even as a joke. But he’s not… He wouldn’t say that he’s hurt, it’s not her fault that he has a life and a boyfriend here tying him down. He just misses her like a lost limb is all.

Maybe it’s because when Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle had swung through Indy for a visit, and Nancy had eyed him up and down saying, “You’ve, um, grown!” Which Jonathan had elbowed her for, and Eddie hadn’t even heard because he’d been in the other room getting everybody drinks. Argyle might not have even been paying attention because he’d immediately asked if anyone wanted some Purple Palm Tree Delight—which, to be fair, had soothed Steve’s ruffled feathers immensely. He might’ve better if Robin had been there too, agreeing wordlessly with him that sure, maybe he has put on some weight, but that’s because he’s finally able to sleep through the night again and can stomach three homemade meals a day instead of being hung up on Upside Down trauma all the time. The trusty old nailbat that used to live in the trunk of his car, or sometimes under his bed, has been retired to a cobwebby corner of the garage. Why can’t Nancy just be glad for how far he’s come?

(She is, Steve knows. It was just a blip, though a prime example of why they probably wouldn’t have worked out even without all the Upside Down crap. And Nancy hadn’t apologized—for that, or anything else really but that’s water under the bridge—but she’d at least let it go. Which is a lot, for Nancy Wheeler, Investigative Journalist.)

Anyway, that had just been one night. One night, when every day Steve has Eddie. Wonderful Eddie who always kisses him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Who makes him breakfast, lunch, and dinner so he doesn’t have to worry about it, and doesn’t shy away from the unhealthy but delicious side of Southern cuisine. They have chicken and waffles once a week, with Steve absolutely soaking his in syrup. And the desserts—holy fucking christ, Eddie has so many recipes and they’re all stored seemingly endlessly in his brain, every one of them a winner.

Whatever the reason, either the little stings or the healing balm of things going wonderfully in his relationship, Steve hasn’t bothered to note the signs. Overall, everything is fine. Why worry about anything when he’s so happy?

The sex they have after especially heavy meals have become Steve’s favorite; the kind where he’s left so full he almost doesn’t want to, could just as easily take a nap instead, but Eddie takes the time to tease him until he’s squirming, whining for it. Sometimes Steve plays up his reluctance a bit just to stretch things out even further, the thrum of anticipation in his veins and taste of good food and Eddie on his tongue. Sometimes he could swear that Eddie has extra hands because of the way he’s so comprehensively everywhere—buoying him up, holding him down, introducing him to pleasure after pleasure until Steve is spilling over with it and yet somehow Eddie still catches him, all of him.

Though it’s funny… for someone who thinks leftovers are bad luck, Eddie always seems to prepare way too much food for two people. Steve has never been one to turn down a home cooked meal when he can get it so he always gamely does his best. It’s not like Eddie ever makes a big deal if he can’t finish, just sympathetically rubs his overtaxed stomach whenever he admits to being too full.

And willingly hands him anything he changes his mind about if the rubbing soothes his burbling tummy enough.

So yeah. Steve knows he’s gained some weight, but it doesn’t bother him. He’s happy, he’s healthy, and putting a relative value on his waistline would just be an exercise in manufacturing stress. He’s had enough of that shit to last a lifetime.

The denial about just how much weight he’s gained lasts right up until a particularly long evening at his parents’ house. It’s one of those ‘social gathering’ things they like to do, basically a dinner party without calling it that. Steve only goes because there’s one last matter of his inheritance that he needs to clear up with his dad before he can basically cut ties with them indefinitely; he’s not there for the collection of eligible young ladies his mother has invited for the occasion, after all, and hadn’t even bothered passing along the half-hearted invitation to bring his ‘roommate’ along. Eddie hates these things almost as much as Steve, and has an early shift at the garage tomorrow anyway.

The food is crap. He doesn’t bother telling his mom to fire the caterer, just drinks too much and goes home hungry despite making quick work of quite a few trays just for something to do between his lines in the mind-numbing small talk. Thinks he might’ve been rude to some of those poor girls whose only real fault was not being Eddie, but, oh well. At least now they won’t try to call.

On the drive back to his and Eddie’s apartment, he cranks the windows and leaves them open the whole way in an attempt to sober up. It kind of works.

Steve finally gets home around three in the morning, shuffling into the apartment, stripping out of his stupid formal clothes piece by piece and step by step as soon as the door shuts behind him. It’s expensive fabric, and it’ll wrinkle being thrown around like that—he doesn’t care. Had distantly registered hours ago that the suit was a little tight, even though he could’ve sworn the tailor at the dry cleaners had taken it out enough just last week. But, again, Steve doesn’t care. He’s distracted.

His stomach is growling. He's down to nothing but his briefs and socks and he needs real food, not puff pastry appetizers with more air than filling or weird under-seasoned crap piled onto limp endives. Eddie is long asleep, but if he’s quiet…

Yes, jackpot. Steve leans into the glow spilling out the refrigerator door, scanning hungrily over the stacked Tupperware containers labeled with Eddie’s swooping, spidery handwriting and grins. Bad luck my ass. This is the best thing that’s happened to him all night.

The only thing he bothers to put in the microwave is the gravy boat. Eddie’s gravy is so good hot he could literally drink it—can and has and will again—but the rest is good regardless of temperature. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself as he pulls a stack of containers out and starts popping lids. Pancakes and bacon and breakfast sausages from that morning, too eager to bother finding a fork and instead just popping each bite straight into his mouth with his fingers. Chicken salad from lunch, which he piles up between hefty slices of homemade bread and eats with one hand while fisting a beer in the other, eager to wash the taste of offensively expensive whiskey from the back of his tongue. Bite, swig, bite, swig, bite, swig… until he finishes the can with a muffled belch, crams the last bit of sandwich in his mouth, and sets himself back up with another of both. He can’t help it, Eddie’s food is so good, almost an acceptable substitute for the man’s presence.

Almost. But Steve doesn’t want to wake him when he has an early day, so he’ll take what he can get.

The microwave beeps, and the chicken salad is all gone so Steve redirects himself to fried chicken and gravy. Still not bothering with silverware, he dunks each piece straight into the boat and keeps having to lap up the gravy that drips down his fingers, his wrists, his arms. Wipes it from his face with the back of his hand and licks that up too with a little moan. Another beer, another few belches, and he has plenty of room left to empty the entire large container out. So fucking good—his tastebuds tingling, he barely takes the time to breathe between shoving more greedily past his lips. Steve loves leftovers actually, because they’re like bonus food. You don’t have to order it, or make it, or do anything other than get and eat. It’s perfect. Maybe that’s why Eddie always makes sure they have some after all, because he knows how much his sweetheart enjoys the extras at times like this. Eddie takes such good care of him…

Such good care, in fact, that behind all the Tupperware there is a pristine and exquisitely frosted cake. German chocolate, Steve’s favorite. His mouth waters, but. He’s not quite ready for dessert.

First, he guzzles down the last of the gravy. It goes down thick and heavy, leaving him panting when he finishes and pleasantly aware of that heaviness in his stomach. The perfect antidote to a stuffy evening surrounded by pretentious assholes, he thinks, already feeling warm and hazy with the comfort of being full. And right back to the far side of tipsy now.

Now it’s time for cake. He really doesn’t intend to eat the whole thing… He’s finally starting to approach his limit, for one thing. It’s better, easier to eat dressed down like this, because any of his pants would be digging into his middle by now. That happens enough lately that he’s kind of getting used to it, kind of uses it to gauge whether he should stop—but tonight he has no desire to even touch the brakes, not now that he’s gotten going. Not when it’s a delicious overload in all the best ways, even down to the smears of achingly sweet frosting and perfectly moist chocolate cake around his mouth as he works his way through slice after slice.

Halfway through (not that he’s keeping track), he pauses to get the milk out of the fridge too. Instead of pouring a glass he puts the cardboard spout to his messy lips and pours it straight down his throat in sloppy gulps, desperate to wash it all down so he can fit more. More, because it’s all so good and his full stomach feels good and this has been practically all he could think about all through that stupid party that wasn’t called a party and celebrated nothing. None of those people know how to fucking live.

And yeah, Steve is also vaguely aware that his belly juts out and sags over the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down in front. He knows he’s reaching the point of overfull where he has to stand differently, big round gut moving as a unit with every breath because it’s packed so tight. He leans back against the counter and finds it bumping into the softness of his back sooner than he expected. His entire midsection hangs, and he keeps absently touching it, smearing chocolate where it juts out at top as he tries to coax more burps out. He’s hit that wall where it’s kind of a slog to keep going, an endeavor, a challenge; he keeps going. Ironically, following the same competitive urges that had made him a decently successful high school athlete.

Because he’s hungry all the time now, even when he’s full. Doesn’t give it too much thought that his belly has taken over for his brain: there’s food, he wants it, he’s eating it. Loves the flavors and textures, the act of chewing and swallowing, having something in his mouth at any opportunity.

And then, finally, he reaches for more cake and finds only crumbs and frosting that he scrapes off the platter with still-greedy fingers. Grabs the partly empty milk container, a whole goddamn gallon, and goes to work gulping it down. Feels it settling into the last of the gaps and his tired knees go weak; he slides down the kitchen cabinets to plop heavily on the floor while he finishes.

Or, almost. There’s still maybe a cup or so left when he finally throws in the towel, because he can taste it in the back of his throat with every strained swallow.

Steve’s head lolls back, finally sated and bloated from all that dairy, his skin hot and stretched and thrumbing. He gingerly feels over the top of his belly and it’s tight, no give at all. But the rest of him…

Okay. Maybe he’s put on more than just a little weight. His belly rounds out before him so far that he can’t see his own lap, and as firm as it is on top it’s soft on the bottom, teardropping between his meaty thighs to kiss the cool linoleum floor. He slips a hand underneath and lifts, testing; drags his palm over the more-than-just-a-spare-tire spilling over his underwear and bulging out over the sides until his hand passes the widest point and it drops free with a jiggle that affects almost every part of him. Gives it a slap, to more jiggles and a bitten-off groan because it jars his stomach, but not in a bad way. Like when Eddie spanks him, something Steve sometimes has to go out of his way being bratty in order to earn, and there’s pain but following it is a warm rush that makes his jaw drop and cock twitch.

Like it’s doing now, and Steve realizes suddenly that he can’t reach it. His big, wide, doughy belly is in the way, too stuffed for him to comfortably manhandle out of the way. Too heavy to lug his weight off the floor. Too glutted to care, even as he rocks into the hang of his own fat, pressing wherever he finds provides a little extra pressure against his weak grinding. The fabric of his briefs, he realizes, is wet through with how much he’s leaking, as if his full stomach is pressing directly on the pleasure centers of his brain, a satisfaction so complete that it’s already got him halfway to the edge.

And that’s how Eddie finds him, smeared with the evidence of his late-night-early-morning snack and breathing so heavily he’s practically moaning. Lazily humping his fat—because he is, Steve’s gotten fat and it feels so fucking good. He’d ignored all the signs because he hadn’t wanted to slow down. Still doesn’t want to, not ever. Indulging feels too amazing.

Eddie finds him just in time to catch the finale, all of Steve shaking and quivering as he reaches his peak. Comes so hard in his briefs that it seeps between his thighs where they try to rub together on one final, savoring squirm. Bows forward a bit, but hiccups weakly between shallow gasps and sags back against the cabinets when it puts too much pressure on his distended gut. Heaving to catch his breath, blasted out of his mind on pleasure, floating but so decadently heavy at the same time.

When Eddie comes to him, kneeling down and cupping his pudgy, chocolate-smeared cheek in one hand, Steve can’t even process what he’s saying. It’s like the adults in Charlie Brown, all wah-wah-wah or whatever. Instead of trying to make sense of it, he turns his head slightly and mouths at his boyfriend’s thumb. He sucks the whole thing into his mouth as soon as Eddie lets him and immediately wants more.

He always wants more these days. It’s like he can’t stop. Even though he knows Eddie has work in the morning and should be sleeping, feels kinda bad that he must have woken him up, he’s by no means disappointed to see the man.

“N-need you,” he manages between gasps and hiccups. Each of the latter is like another slap, or maybe a squeeze—something hard and fast, whatever it is, like a spanking but like. An internal one. He’s already twitching, starting to get hard again.

What he wants is Eddie to fuck him, but there’s no way he’s moving right now. Instead, Eddie pulls himself out of his sweatpants and tucks the front of them behind his balls, lazily fisting his cock at about the level of Steve’s panting mouth. And oh, he thinks, starting to drool a little, even better. He licks his plump lips, groaning at the sweet smears of chocolate that light up his taste buds, then lets his tongue loll out in invitation.

He’s willing to beg for it if he has to.

Because Steve has gone beyond wanting—he needs Eddie’s cock. It’s all he can think about as Eddie nudges against his wet tongue, smearing his blushing cockhead until all Steve can taste is that familiar, musky bitterness. Needs to be filled even more, really unhinge his jaw and let everything Eddie cares to give him go straight down his throat just like all the rest. Whines around him when Eddie finally pushes in properly, sucking and licking and nibbling. Grabbing clumsily for Eddie’s hands so he can move them to dig into his hair. It’s already a mess, just like the rest of him.

A moaning, quivering, empty-headed mess.

And it feels so good.

Steve comes back to himself some time later, smacking his lips absently and rubbing both hands over his swollen middle with a pleased sigh when he feels clean, recently lotioned skin. His throat feels rough, but no more sore than his jaw.

He barely remembers Eddie cleaning him up with a series of warm, damp kitchen towels after they finished, murmuring a steady commentary on how flattering it is that Steve likes his food so much. His underwear’s gone, and the dip of the bed beneath his ass is a lot more forgiving and comfortable than the kitchen floor. Fuck, he must’ve been seriously blissed out to not even remember climbing the stairs like this, so stuffed that he aches.

Working at the mechanic shop has really been paying off for Eddie to get him upstairs in that state, Steve thinks with a pleasant shudder.

When he lifts his head, he can’t see over his domed, still quivering belly at all and that—

“How come you didn’t tell me I got fat?” Steve asks, slurs a bit, not sure if it’s because of the alcohol in his system or how wholly, blissfully sated he feels. He rubs hands over himself, grabbing and pawing and even slapping a little, transfixed by the idea of achieving perpetual motion, of leaving a handprint somewhere he can’t even see without the help of a mirror.

Eddie’s hand joins his, a fingertip circling idly around his navel. Little electric jolts of pleasure roll through Steve whenever his boyfriend’s callouses from years of playing guitar rasp against the rim of his increasingly sunken belly button, nudging him towards another hard-on until he’s squirming from something so simple.

“You really didn’t know?” Eddie murmurs, sounding amused.

Steve burps, moans, shrugs. “Mm—sort of. Not really. Don’t care, though. Feels good. Your food is the best, Eds, I could eat it all day.”

A Cheshire grin spreads across Eddie’s face, but all he says is, “Thanks, sweetheart.” He doesn’t need to comment on the fact that Steve often does spend all day eating his cooking. That the excesses have started to paint red stretch marks on Steve’s belly and thighs—some of which Steve has found with his fingertips and is stroking, not concerned but definitely curious.

“It’s like that new thing Robin keeps telling me about,” Steve continues dreamily. (There’s always a new thing for his best friend to talk his ear about whenever she calls, chattering fast to avoid wrecking complete havoc on their phone bill.) “About love languages? Like, how you show it to other people and how you want to hear it back… I think your love language might be food, baby.”

Because he’d come back from his parents’ house starving, and now he’s so blissfully full of his boyfriend’s cooking he’s had two orgasms about it, lazily contemplating a third. So that sounds about right, as metaphors or whatever go.

“Making it, sure,” Eddie agrees, still teasing his belly button and eliciting the occasional shiver or gassy burp. “What’s yours?”

Steve grins beatifically and shifts to spread his legs, feeling over the lowest curve of his belly. He’s aware now that he’s had it, that he’s been big for a while; doesn’t know how he hadn’t quite realized before tonight, because the way his own body gives and squishes and springs back as he explores his fatness is electrifying, all-encompassing

Tomorrow he’ll track down a scale and see how much he’s gained. Maybe do some clothes shopping before his next shift, size up his wardrobe as needed. Most likely get more groceries. They’ll definitely talk about this: both Steve’s not so little journey of self-discovery tonight and how on board Eddie already is with it.

For now, because he doesn’t remember the official love languages Robin had told him about, Steve just says, “Pretty sure mine is eating it and then wanting you to fuck my brains out. I know you have to be up early, but—”

Eddie growls deep in his throat, lunging for the lube in the nightstand drawer before shoving Steve’s thick thighs further apart and planting himself in between—exactly where they both want him.

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

#wg steddie #chubby steve harrington #fat steve harrington #feeder eddie munson #scoops words #steddie smutty september #steddie soft september #ask #♠️♥️ anon

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bxxth1ll · 4 months

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Hypothetically speaking if you were to wake up from stainless metal clanging and drill buzzin' and the first thing you saw when you open your eyes was me disassembling your stomach cavity and then I got surprised and accidentally (purposely) cut off your power supply and then got knocked out for 12 hours straight and then when wake up with your stomach is securely attached to your body so you think that whatever you saw was just a dream and continue to do your daily routine of being a galaxy ranger for 8 months straight and then when the final month came around you hear this constant beeping for your stomach cavity and get it checked up to your mechanic and to both of your surprise there was a small button being installed in your belly button area that keeps blinking red light and your mechanic now alarmed and skeptical of what that button would active if pressed did end up pressing it and your stomach cavity opens up as smoke (?) pours out of your said stomach cavity to find a robotic fetus peacefully resting in your stomach.

Also I was sitting next beside you holding your hand while holding a gender reveal cake :3

That's all thank you 🫶

~ ♠️

WHAT THE ACTUAL MUDDLEFUDGIN' FUDGE IS THIS QUESTION??!??

#((this question surprised me so much i had to answer it rn))#boothill #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail boothill #boothill honkai star rail #hsr #asks #answered asks #♠️ anon

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lifesteal-headcanons · 3 months

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I was sendind a headcanon but for some reason it kicked me out, so here it is but actually finished this time:

I like the headcanon that ClownPierce is human, he's just a little weird and offputting (he just like me fr) so players think he's not, but I also like the headcanon that he's some sort of shapeshifter void monster/creature! I don't know how to explain myself but the closest thing I can think of would be Kedamono from Popee The Performer, except that he also has some kind of face to look human, kind of like mask > fake humanoid face > actual mouth. Sorry my explanations kinda suck, if I ever get motivated enough I will draw and post the concept

During fights, he can't just take off his mask to eat gapples since it would take too long and it would make him vulnerable, so I think he would just lift his mask up a little then eat them in one bite. Other lifestealers have pointed out how it looks like they just dissapear right in front of them but no one has actually asked Clown.

Sorry for bad english! It's my second language, also, could I please be ♠️ anon if it's not taken? or 🎭. Thank you!

#ask #headcanon #lifesteal smp #clownpierce #♠️ anon

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plural-userboxes · 3 months

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requested by: 💜♠️anon

requests are open!!

#Time to explore☆#💜♠️anon☆#system userbox #system stuff #plurality #pluralgang #actually plural #userbox #userboxes #pro endogenic #endo friendly #endo safe #sysblr #plural #endogenic #pro endo #anti syscourse

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alluralater · 8 months

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Okay I have to say I read your response when I first woke up and it viscerally sat in my mind all day while in class and as I was doing work, and I just now got time to read it over again and my brain turned to mush and I think I'm still recovering.

You can definitely leave all the bruises you want because just the thought of seeing them later or the next day, I know I wouldn't being able to function beyond remembering the feel of your lips, the bite of your teeth or nails. Even as my fingers gently trace over the marks to try and feel that sensation again, it wouldn't compare to you, only making me crave you all over again. You ask what would bring me to my knees, the answer is you. You could simply smile, laugh, or say my name and I would happily do anything to see or hear that again. I have no doubt that the feel of your hands on my skin, around my neck, or the sound of your sweet, commanding voice would draw me right into that lust-filled daze. And in or out of that daze, I'd be so good for you, so willingly trained to take what you give, just to hear that praise or to hear you call me a good girl. Letting you move and position me however you want, letting you hear just how good you make me feel, and doing everything I can to make sure I'm perfect just for you too.

And once I'm finally on my knees as you lay before me, your hand guiding me until my mouth between your legs, it would be the best reward, and the perfect way to return all the pleasure you've given me. Dazed but not completely spent, I'd still be hungry for more, craving a taste of you and only spurred on by the sounds you make when my tongue presses flat and flicks against your swollen clit. I want to give you more, want to have you equally as desperate and dazed as you made me. My eyes flit up to yours, taking in the sight of your parted lips, head tilted back as I lick along the curve of your pussy before sucking your clit into my mouth. I'd alternate between dragging my tongue on the length of your center and sucking and lashing at your clit, until your hands are tangled in my hair, hips raising as you tell me just what you need, voice caught between a firm command and a needy whine. But I'd still want to be good for you, immediately listening, as I slip my tongue into your pussy, eyes rolling back and moaning at the way you clench and the heat of you wrapped around my tongue. This time it's my nails, pastel blue, trailing over your hips, one hand holding you down as the other rubs circles over your clit while I work my tongue inside you. You'd take it so well too, letting me hear those delicious moans that I want to capture as I kiss you, hips rocking against my tongue and spreading your wetness over my lips as you're pushed into the first orgasm.

Though once I've had a taste and seen you cum on my tongue, giving you one won't be enough. I'd need to hear those pretty moans again, those soft, needy cries you make as you tug on my hair, hips arched as you ride your orgasm. And you'd let me wouldn't you? Mind fuzzy from the pleasure, you'd let me coax you down from your high, and when my tongue finally pulls out you eagerly take my fingers, which slip right into you. Sitting back on my ankles, your legs over my legs and encasing my hips, I'd take in the sight of your flushed and heated skin, fingers slowly pumping inside you as my thumb brushes against your clit. And just as you did on my skin, I'd lean down and leave little bruises along yours, enjoying the way you shudder as I drag my teeth and bite down before having you melt when I sooth away the string with my tongue. Each bite and kiss mapping out all the places that drive you wild so I can commit them to memory, from your hips, to your nipples, to your neck and finally your lips. Only when your soft lips slant against my own, tongues twirling and sliding against one another, only then would I let my fingers move faster, curling inside you, thumb circling quicker over your clit as I eagerly swallow your sounds. Just as you did for me, I'd draw out your pleasure, over and over again, counting down from the number of times you made me cum. After all, I did say I wanted to return all the pleasure you gave me, it seems only fair that if I'm going to be good for you that I stick to what I promise, don't you think?

Okay also tangent, but not really and I anticipate it'll definitely be a rant of its own but I adore that you adored what I wrote. I was shocked and awed and blushing at your reply, I don't have enough words! You're so sweet and you deserve to hear it every day, and I hope you do! And the way I said yes immediately to girlfriending you up because whoever gets the privilege of calling themselves yours and you theirs would be the luckiest person in the world, hands down. Because I mean come on what a dream it would be able to wake up to the sight and presence of you because I have no doubt you look beautiful bathed in the morning sun, to hold you and cuddle with you, to kiss your lips and be the reason you smile. Being able to take you on cute dates, gifting you little trinkets that reminded me of you, and listening to you talk, rant, and rave about anything and everything not only because I adore the sound of your voice, but because if it's important to you it would be important to me too. But also I am cognizant that I'm a whole ass country away and haven't been intimate or been in a relationship before and would literally die of joy in the same way just to be your friend. Adore you and your deserve the world! I'm going to stop now before this gets longer than it already is.

- ♠

okay but can i scream?? this was- hello??! this was a love letter, a lust letter, regretful pains of distance and yearning for more letter, heartfelt beauty in prose type letter. i can’t believe all of this was in an ask. if you ever find yourself in seattle or i’m in your country, i’ll be taking you on a fucking date

#asks #anons #♠️ anon #🟢#allura.addressed💌#i want to reply to this but it will be the length of a NOVEL by the time i do so i will be addressing your anon in a post instead <3 #holy fucking christ #the things this did to me… i can’t even begin to explain #anon hall of fame

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