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#but I need something that won’t leave me bloated tomorrow
becca-e-barnes · 2 years
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I just know Bucky would get so lost in you. Like the feeling of you around him has him going in and out of consciousness just mindlessly rutting into you. He would just start babbling saying how good it feels and how much he loves you and he just can’t stop. He’s just gone dumb on pleasure. I need him 😖
Oh god that’s so hot, like him almost losing control of himself while he fucks you because you feel too good 🤤
Because you’re fluttering and rippling and clenching around him and he’s never felt so dumb in his life. He’s so in love with everything about you but your body is just heavenly in a way that he can’t describe. You’re dripping wet, letting him fuck himself totally stupid in your sensitive little pussy and he’s not sure whether he’s going to cum, black out or cry from how good you have him feeling.
His hips are snapping so fast, chasing a pleasure his body just won’t surrender to. He almost thinks his body knows what’s best for him, not letting him cum because he won’t be able to handle it. It’s got him way too frantic though, fucking you like you’re just a hole for him to cum in and while he doesn’t like doing that, he needs it so badly.
“Holy shit, mhm Bucky no please, I’m going to cum again. Oh f-fuck please don’t make me.” You sob, your eyes rolled back in your head, clawing at the sheets but Bucky pays no mind at all. He’s too zoned out, rutting into you for his own pleasure to the point that yours is almost a hazy afterthought. He’d register your safeword and at this point, that’s just about all that he’d react to.
“Feel p-perfect. So fuckin’ tight. So wet n’ creamy. Y-you’re…. Fuck, it’s too much. ‘M gonna… O-Oh you’re gonna make me fill you. G-Gonna cum in you.” Bucky grunts with his face totally screwed up in ecstasy. There’s no stopping the slick slapping of skin on skin, your bodies shaking, desperate for the relief that only an orgasm can give.
“Bucky please, fuck, cum in me. Fill me, baby. Fill my little pussy and don’t stop.” You urge, right as you reach the point of no return. Your cunt practically robs him of his cum, forcing him to spill his load as deep inside you as your body will let him go.
He’s not even sure he’s fully present in his body as he cums. It’s pure bliss, somehow feeling like time has stopped and sped up all at once. His flesh hand grips your hip, holding you still as he sobs his release against your hot skin, pumping you full of such a huge load you feel it dripping over your asshole already and he’s nowhere near finished.
“S-so full. So full. Oh god, can’t fuckin’ stop. Y-you’re gonna be… Oh, I shouldn’t have - shoulda pulled out. You’re stuffed, fuck.” He groans, his whole body shaking from the force of his orgasm and the fact he’s not sure it’ll ever stop.
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bulletproofscales · 1 year
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fem boy feb day 4 - objectification (yoongi)
another half finished one, but i weirdly like it
tags: taegi, sugar baby tae, sugar daddy yoongi, fat yoongi , objectification, hurt comfort
1k words
https://archiveofourown.org/works/44889373/chapters/112946275#workskin
Again i'll probabtl add to this tomorrow
Yoongi is having a very hard day. He is having a bad day and he won’t tell Taehyung what's wrong. Since he arrived home he’s been deadly quiet, distant; as if he was far behind his eyes, someplace else. Though by now, he’s figured out that asking is futile. Yoongi is having a bad day is all he needs to know. 
Taehyung doesn’t know much about Yoongi’s life. He knows he has a harder life than he gives away; Taehyung is okay respecting the distance Yoongi sets between them. 
He still cares, though. Yoongi is only kind to him; even with that tiredness that clings to his eyes. Even if he hasn’t gotten deep into his client’s life, he’s figured out a way to make the older feel better. Yes, his services have always been more on the… receiving side. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t equipped for more.
He was already at Yoongi's house when he heard the older sigh; as if finally releasing the tension from the length of his day. Taehyung can see his silhouette as his forehead rests against the door, hand still on the knob. 
Not waiting another second, Taehyung stands up from the couch, smile already taking over his face with warmth. Giddiness taking over his tummy, he’s never tried this with Yoongi; but it's been a couple of nights of witnessing a soulless man arrive at his own home. He doesn’t lose anything trying. 
Yoongi is still contemplating his existence by the door, so Taehyung calmly wraps his arms around his middle. Letting his big hands memorize the heft of Yoongi’s bottom roll; going from his rounded wide hips to the front. His back squishy with padding and perfect for Taeyung to lean against, resting his head comfortably on Yoongi’s shoulder; padded perfectly to his liking too. He lets his nose rub against the chub of his neck; double chin getting so big the fold is starting to reach the side of his neck. His hands play with the weight of Yoongi’s overhang, making the entirety of his belly bounce in unison; jiggly and pillowy. 
At the silence of Yoongi’s lack of complaints, Taehyung lets himself continue; letting his lips trail along his chubby neck, while his hands abandon the bottom of his sagging protruding belly to caress up the curve. A soft sigh leaves the older and Taehyung smiles against his warm skin. 
“It's so late… Please tell me you had dinner already.” His hands rub in slow circles on the entire expanse of his stomach. From this close, he can admire the slight heavy breathing Yoongi carries with him everywhere now. Taehyung tries to feel a bloat, but Yoongi’s fattened beyond ‘bloating’. 
“I did.” He throws his head back to rest on Taehyung’s shoulder too; melting under the younger’s hands. “I can’t trust you with cooking for us.” The gentle teasing is already devoid of the tension that riddled him when he arrived… Almost. 
He giggles gently, nipping at  his neck in harmless reprimanding. “You can’t.” His hands squeeze where they sit at the center of Yoongi’s belly. “But there's something else you can definitely trust me with.” 
Yoongi lifts his head up and tries to look over his shoulder to meet eyes with Taehyung. The younger just pleased to see the smile on his lips and feel the rolls that form on his neck. “And what would that be?” 
His groping hands sink further into the pliable fat, just to squeeze himself closer to Yoongi’s body. “You can trust me to make sure you end the night in a good mood.” The small sharp inhale from the older only fueling him more. “Wanted to try something new.” 
“Should I be scared? What is it, baby?” Yoongi’s chuckles are contagious, even if he wants to be insulted that his first reaction was hesitance. Lifting his head from his neck to brush against his ear instead. 
“Do you trust me?” Deep voice sends a shiver through Yoongi’s body, Taehyung can feel it physically rattle him. And the answer seems to take a minute, as if Yoongi is pondering just how much he can take this one day. 
“I do…” It's so telling by the sincerity in his tone. He bites his lips. “J-just take me to the bed.” Taehyung doesn’t need to hear anymore, letting go from where he was clinging to Yoongi’s back to turn him around. Ambushing his lips in a hungry kiss; smiling when he hears the older’s deep hum. 
“You’ll be my toy for the night.” Taehyung whispers in between kisses. Taking Yoongi’s fattened hand into both of his; boxy grin taking over his face. “Lets go.” 
Yoongi’s dinner makes itself known on their walk to his bedroom. Waddling through heavy huffs of air, smiling through his hard breathing with excitement to Taehyung. There was a point in their relationship, where Taehyung would try to make out with him on the way, squeeze him all over, grope his ass, find his dick underneath all that lard. But he’s realized it only makes Yoongi more breathless and it takes them twice as long to get to bed. 
He kind of enjoys this now, watching the gleaming excitement in Yoongi’s eyes, smiling wide and genuine. As he tries to get his legs to work as fast as they can, and that pace still being a slow trip. It warms Taehyung’s chest, only able to squeeze the dimpled chubby hand without exciting the older too much. 
They get there eventually, but Taehyung cherished each second of watching Yoongi’s cheeks bounce with each step. But now that they’re here, he doesn’t waste another second, quickly unbuckling Yoongi’s belt and tugging down his pants; their lips crashing again in the process. Taehyung knows better than to try to get him to lift his hips up when they’re already on the bed. He marvels at the dimpled skin of Yoongi’s thick legs. Immense expanse of soft skin, he caresses it for a moment before doing the same with Yoongi’s boxer briefs. 
“Don’t want you to focus on anything else, okay?” Taehyung whispers with wide pleading eyes as he guides Yoongi to sit on the bed; loving the way it creaks and groans from his heft.  What's even better is the way the hem of his shirt rides up the curve of his stomach just from sitting. Showing the silver of skin that's the perfect entrance for his hands to caress up his torso and peel of the garment in the process. Forcing Yoongi to look up at him, equally aroused. “Just focus on me.” It's the last thing he says before Taehyung gently pushes him down to lay on his back. 
“T-Taehyung what?” His words get cut off by a small exhale of air that gets coaxed out of him, probably by his own weight more than by Taehyung’s careful ministrations. Out of the sagging overhang of his belly and the squishy fat pad underneath it, he sees the aroused tip of Yoongi’s dick and flicks it…Maybe that shut him up.
“Toys don’t talk.”
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blu-joons · 2 years
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When You Kiss Him Because You Want Something ~ SHINee Reaction
Onew:
“Can we go and get a coffee?” You asked, pointing across to the store that was just across the street.
“We’ve only just left the house,” Jinki chuckled as you tugged against his arm, “how can you already want a coffee when we’ve walked for five minutes.”
Your head shook as you took a step towards him, trailing several kisses along the length of Jinki’s jaw, “we need something to walk with, and coffee is perfect.”
“Y/N,” Jinki smirked, knowing exactly what you were up to, “you know people are beginning to look across at us.”
Your head nodded proudly, “let’s go and get a coffee and then I’ll stop, but you know that I won’t let you go until you agree to get a coffee.”
“Do you really want one that badly?”
“Of course, I really fancy one.”
“Come on then,” Jinki sighed, taking a hold of your hand as he led you across to the crossing, “I can’t believe I’ve caved and given you what you want so easily.”
The smile on your face continued to grow, “your jaw has always been a weakness, I learnt that as soon as I started dating you.”
“You know me too well, it’s so unfair.”
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Key:
“Don’t leave without me,” you pouted as Kibum got his final bits together before going to work.
“I’ve got a schedule,” Kibum reminded you as you held onto his arm, stopping him from going anywhere else, “there’s a car waiting outside too.”
You moved closer towards Kibum, pressing several kisses against his cheek, “do you really want to spend the day without me? We could have fun and be together.”
“Will you really be able to control yourself whilst I’m recording?” Kibum challenged, slowly beginning to cave.”
Your head nodded, knowing that you were wearing Kibum down, “I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” you vowed, continuing to kiss him.
“You can’t be doing this all day too.”
“Do what? I’m not doing anything.”
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” Kibum smirked, pinching against your waist, “and in case you’ve forgotten, two can play this game if you want to.”
Your head nodded as you grabbed your jacket off the back of the door, “I just always know how to get what I want from you.”
“Just this once, don’t get used to it.”
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Minho:
“Do you have to stick to your diet tonight?” You frowned across at Minho, tucking beside him.
“I said that I’d help you cook if you’re too tired to do it yourself,” Minho reminded you, wrapping his arm around your frame, “I don’t mind.”
You shuffled closer to Minho, beginning to trail kisses against the crook of his neck. “Just say no to the diet for once, I know that you’re tempted by takeout.”
“I’ve got to watch my figure,” Minho squirmed, struggling to keep it together as you continued to tease against him.
Your shoulders shrugged as your hand trailed against his chest, “from what I can feel, you’ve got nothing that you need to worry about.”
“Do you know how bloated I’ll be tomorrow?”
“You can do an extra hour at the gym.”
“How long do you plan on keeping this up?” Minho chuckled, feeling his heart start to race as you managed to find Minho’s sweet spot against his neck.
You pulled away momentarily to meet his eyes, “I’ve got all night long if that’s what you want, I don’t need to go anywhere.”
“Fine, you win, pass me the takeout menu.”
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Taemin:
“Please can I come and watch,” you smiled across at Taemin as he picked up his bag for work.
“You never let me do any work when you come to the studio,” Taemin reminded you, only for your shoulders to shrug in reply to him with a smile.
You stood in the doorway as Taemin approached, pressing several light kisses to the tip of his nose. “I love watching you dance though.”
Your hands cupped either side of Taemin’s face to keep him in position, “how do I know that you won’t just distract me once you’ve watched me dance.”
Your hands continued to grab at Taemin, trying to keep his attention watching you, “you won’t even know that I’m there with you.”
“Do you promise to be quiet whilst I rehearse?”
“I promise, the room will be silent.”
“I suppose that you can come, but if you distract me, I’ll make sure that you pay,” Taemin warned you, “management won’t be happy too.”
Your head nodded in reply, “I’ll sit in the corner, and watch without saying a word, like another member of staff.”
“I could find some work for you to do actually.”
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buckylattes · 3 years
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It hurts that you think about yourself like that-B.B.
DON’T STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY STUFF!!!!
a/n- Please like, comment, and reblog!! It means a lot to me that i know anyone who reads my stuff, likes my work! Don’t be afraid to send me asks as well. I’m currently taking requests(for sds and main fics), and i’m always open to talk to new ppl:)
Summary: You’re going through a hard time, but Bucky is there as always….even more this time than previously.
Warnings n stuff: 18+, this is very self indulgent, beefy!avenger!bucky, plus size!civilian!female reader, kissing, fluff, but lots of self doubt from reader, body weight talk, body negativity, gaining weight, talks of not eating/skipping meals & talks of binge eating, talks of mental health, stretch marks(don’t know why that’d be a warning but just putting it here), mentions of sex but no sex, if i missed anything pls let me know!
needed some way of spilling some things i’m feeling within my head recently, and i’m glad i can do that here:) please read the warnings as this is probably one of the most serious/critical things i’ve written in a while and can trigger ppl!!! not all of this plot is true to my situation, but enough of it is.
It’s like clockwork, by the time you start to feel better, things start to go south, then that causes you to crash. You’ve been doing great, absolutely fucking great, until you saw that you gained those few pounds as soon as you stepped onto the scale that’s in your bathroom.
The scale.
It’s a monster. It taunts and laughs at you whenever you step on it, and just to make things worse, the number seemingly always rises even when you’ve thought you’ve been doing good. It’s hell in the form of digital numbers and metal.
You want to curl up and just disappear. That’s it. You’d rather stay in bed all day long and sleep, no meals included, and let the days pass. You’re not even hanging out with your friends anymore. They invite you to go out, but you feel as if you’re not needed- or wanted- and even if you did, what would you wear? The clothes you felt good in a few weeks ago, just don’t seem to fit right anymore.
Bucky, your best friend, has been blowing up your phone for a couple of days now- when it all started up again. He keeps asking what’s wrong, because he knew that something was up when you told him that your guys’ weekly movie night was canceled on Wednesday. You don’t know it, but his heart dropped when you told him that. He could hear that something was wrong over that short phone call you two had, and you hate sometimes just how well he fucking knows you- how well he can read you.
You’re expecting him to come to your apartment door at any hour now, and knock on it. Arms full of your favorite things, but those won’t cheer you up this time. Maybe his company will, but that’s a reach.
When you get to feeling bad, Bucky is usually the first person you call or text. He’s the one you tell everything to. It’s hard not to when he knows you so well. It’s almost like he knows when you’re upset, like he has some sort of radar that goes off when you start to feel the tiniest bit of sadness or dark thoughts. Bucky goes out of his way to help you, to cheer you up, and you’re grateful for that.
He never pushes you to do things you’re not comfortable with, he always gives you a choice. He always tries to include you even when you’re having an off day, because he knows how bad it feels to not be invited. He makes you feel cared for, wanted, understood, and grounded. Something someone has yet to make you feel all at once.
As expected, your ears pick up the knock that’s being placed on your door right now, bursting you from your thoughts. It’s a thud, after a thud, and another, followed by one more. You lazily get up with a sigh and shuffle through your slightly messy bedroom into the small living room and past your measly kitchen. Then you’re at your apartment door. You unlock it and there to no surprise is Bucky. He has a smile on his face, but shockingly nothing in his arms. “Hey, doll. Figured we could use some time to catch up and i’m off for the rest of the day and tomorrow. Whatcha say?” He stands in front of you now, beaming, looking at you with those pretty blues and you give in. How can you not? Why wouldn’t you give in? It’s Bucky, your best friend.
But he stops half way in the door frame when you move to the side. “Is there anything that i can get you first? I didn’t know if you’d eaten or anything yet.” You feel bad. You can’t ever lie to Bucky Barnes, he’s the one person you’re not good at lying to and he picks up on it every single time- even if he’s not a good liar himself. Maybe it’s because of how truthful he is with you or how caring he is that makes it hard to lie to him. But you just cannot do it.
Your eyes dart to the floor and you sigh, “not really been in the mood to eat, Buck.” His smile falters and his heart shatters at your low toned revelation. “Doll, why not?” His flesh hand lightly cups your cheek and he tilts your head up so that you’re looking at him. You feel as if he can see everything you’ve never wanted to tell him, you feel that he can see right through you. His eyes trail over your face, then he looks at what you’re wearing. Baggy clothes- nothing unusual- but usually you’re more comfortable in your own abode and chill around in shorts and maybe a more fitting shirt- perhaps even a tank top or a shirt and no shorts. Today you’re not. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with that, in Bucky’s eyes you look absolutely lovely in everything and he couldn’t careless what you wore honestly, but today you’re dressed in a baggy shirt that goes down to the middle of your thighs and baggy black sweat pants.
He furrows his eyes at you with a turn of his head, then his thumb sweeps across your cheek. “Talk to me? Can you do that?” His voice is soft and your heart aches. You want to tell him what’s wrong, god don’t you wanna, but is it really the best idea? “You cancelled movie night, so i know something is wrong, doll. Do you want me to go get some food for us? We can talk about what’s going on?” You nod hesitantly, because no matter how hard you try not to eat, you want to binge and binge on food, but you also know you need to eat something. “Sushi? It’s not as bad as other food and i kind of-.” “Oh, doll. It’s that again, is it?” Bucky’s tone makes you nearly collapse. Of course it’s that again. Of course he knows that it’s that again.
“I hate that for you.” His hand drops from your cheek and his arms go around your shoulders, bringing you into him. His eyes close as he inhales the scent of your apple blossom shampoo and he hugs you with so much meaning- so much love- that he feels like he might break you with how tight he’s holding you. You nearly cry at the warm and comforting embrace from his bigger and warmer body- the scent of his cologne still clings to him even after a day of work; the crisp smell of the ocean. The way his face nuzzles into your hair has you clinging onto his jacket tighter, never wanting to let go. This feeling is too good to want to let go, even if you’re on the verge of tears. The silence is soon broke though, now it having been around a minute or so, by Bucky, “we can talk all you want to after we get the food, deal?” You nod at his question, head pressed against his chest. His hand rubs up and down your back to soothe you even more, and suddenly you’re not feeling like a burden or that you’re not wanted- all because of Bucky.
-
It takes food around forty minutes to arrive, so you and Bucky scroll through movie options seeing as he’s made it clear by now that he’s spending the night here with you. As you both now chow down on the dish, Bucky is the first to start up conversation. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want to, because i’m here for you to talk to. It’s a judge free zone and i’ll help in any way that i can.” He says after he swallows the food in his mouth.
You think silently for a moment if you really want to tell him and bother him with your shitty emotions and thoughts. Then you begin to think about how Bucky has never once complained about listening to your issues, but you’re still hesitant as always. “I don’t know, Buck. I don’t wanna bother you.” You stare down at the plate in your hand and you hear Bucky sit his down. “You’re not bothering me, you’re not gonna bother me. Please tell me, don’t close yourself off and let it eat you up inside, doll. I know how that feels. I tell you this every time and i’ll continue to tell you, you’re always able to come to me and talk to me. So please do.” He rests a reassuring hand on your knee in your criss-cross position and you finally look up to meet his eyes, then you begin to spill.
“I’ve gained a few more pounds recently……. I can’t seem to stay away from that god damn scale even though i know i should. I weigh myself almost every two hours just to see if i’m gaining or losing anything. I don’t want to go out anymore because i feel like i can’t wear the clothes i need to when i want to go out- like the dresses and stuff. I look fat and bloated in everything except my baggy clothes. I feel like my thighs are too big and i hate the way my stomach looks. I was doing so fucking good too, Bucky. I was doing so good and now- now i don’t even know how to cope with it. This happens every time.” A tear trickles down your face and you can’t seem to remember seeing the expression that’s on Bucky’s face currently at any other time other than when he’s being sympathetic for you.
“A few more pounds isn’t bad, and i know you’re going to egg on and say it is. I know that it’s hard for you to think differently about it- about yourself, but i know you will eventually. And that’s why you’ve been declining everyone’s invites? Doll, please don’t stay away and leave yourself out of things just because of your mind. You need to live, have fun, wear comfy clothes if you want to when you go out. No one has said you need or have to wear a dress or a skirt or even something revealing or tight. Wear what you feel comfortable in………How about we throw that scale out tomorrow? I’ll take it with me? I’ll toss it away?” His questions catch you off guard, but his advice is right. You shouldn’t be bothered to feel like you have to wear revealing or even tight clothes out n’ about. You can be comfy in other things and still have fun in the process.
You nod at his questions, thinking that it might help you a bit to get rid of the scale. “Okay, good. If you want, it’s completely up to you, i go to the gym four days of the week. If you want to tag along on some days, you can. Don’t feel obligated though, just let me know. I’ll make sure you don’t over work yourself, and we’ll start off slow. Only if you want to.” You nod your head, “i’ll think about it. I would like a gym partner, maybe that’ll help a bit.” Bucky smiles and then his hand is on your thigh. He gives it a light squeeze and you smile for the first time today- a genuine smile that is- because of Bucky. “Just let me know. Do you want me to put the sushi up for now?” He asks you and you nod.
Bucky then grabs the plates and takes them to your kitchen. You hear him shuffling around for a minute or so, then he’s back on the couch with you. “Anything else you want to tell me? I’m all ears.” He says after he plops down onto your small, cream colored couch. “No, i think that’s it. Thank you, though. You didn’t have to do this, you didn’t even have to listen to me rant.” You lightly chuckle, but Bucky can sense the bit of pain behind it.
“Don’t say that, doll. I’m always willing to listen to you and your problems, i always have! I care, and i love you.” Sure, you and Bucky have been best friends for a while now. You’ve both established that you’d go to great lengths to protect the other. If you’re in danger, he’s there in a heart beat kicking whoever’s ass is trying to hurt you- which has happened more times than you’d like to count. You’ve also admitted that if he ever needs to go into hiding again, you welcome your apartment to him with open arms, but you’ve never said “i love you” to each other… so it takes you by surprise. “Thank you, Bucky. I love you too.”
You two then go on to watch the movie you selected over an hour ago- some kind of action movie. You get half way through it when Bucky’s phone goes off with a text. He checks it and you glance over. It’s Sam. “What’s that about?” You ask as you shift a bit on the couch. “Sam asked to go grab some drinks. I told him no.” He places his phone down onto the small table beside his side of the couch and you feel a bit of guilt wash over you. “You can go if you want to.” You mumble while staring at the tv- the people on screen fighting some bad guys.”
Bucky looks over at you and can tell that something’s bothering you. “No, why would i do that? I want to spend time with you. I’ve not seen you in four days, y/n. I want to spend time with my girl. Sam can wait.” He declares after he turns to you. “Are you sure?” “I’m absolutely positive.” The title he gave you did catch you off guard, but you decide to not think anything of it and just go on to watch the movie with Bucky and enjoy your time together- because, as he said, you’ve not seen each other in four days.
-
About an hour later after the movie has ended, you both decide to go ahead and get ready to lay down in bed. You both brush your teeth and take quick showers. Bucky has plenty of clothes at your place for these random “sleepovers” as you like to call them, so he gets dressed in a dark green shirt with his boxers that he left a few times ago. “You can sleep in here with me tonight, if you want.” You tell Bucky just as you watch him beginning to grab the pillows for the couch. Sometimes you two sleep in the same bed, sometimes you don’t. Tonight you want him close to you. “You sure?” “Yeah, come on.” You slip into your bed, inviting Bucky in to join you, and Bucky follows behind you. The lamp is still on on his side of the bed, illuminating just enough light to where you can see each other.
When Bucky slips in and gets situated, he’s facing you. “Hey, doll.” He smiles and whispers. You smile back at him, his eyes gleaming under the soft, yellow light from the lamp. “Hi, Buck.” You mumble back. You’re about six inches apart, staring at each other in a comfortable silence. The distant car horns, crickets, and some music can be heard from down the street as you two lay in your warm bed. “God, this may sound really cheesy….” Bucky starts off in a low tone, and you squint your eyes at him, “but…” he then reaches behind him and turns off the lamp, only allowing the moonlight to shine in through your window, “you look absolutely stunning in the moonlight, doll.” He finishes his compliment and it has your cheeks heating up as he admires you in the dim light, now.
Bucky just cannot take his eyes off of you. The way your eyes shine, the way the small dimples in your cheeks appear when you grin like that because of him, the way your hair splays out onto the pillow like you’re a fucking goddess. He’d worship the ground you step on if you’d let him. “Buck…stop.” You giggle out a bit, overwhelmed by his compliment. “It’s true, you look so soft…so pretty. Your lips…..they look so fucking kissable.” Bucky can’t stop the words that are spilling past his lips, he’s been waiting ages to say these things to you and much more, he just can’t hold it back any longer. “Can i find out?”
His question takes you by surprise, for the hundredth time tonight. “Find out what?” “How soft you are, how kissable your lips are.” He mumbles as his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to meet your shiny eyes. You can tell he’s leaning in a little, waiting for you to give him an answer. “Bucky….you don’t want someone like me, i mean…look at you!” You exclaim, and that breaks Bucky’s heart. Yes, he does want you. You’re not going to make that decision for him just because you think you’re less of value than him. It’s not true, at all. “I do want you, you’re worth so much. Can i show you how much i want you?” His face is merely three inches away now, and your heart is thumping in your ears.
You nod, “yes…show me, because i’m not so sure.” Within an instant, Bucky is pulling the covers back and tossing them off of your body. His lips meet yours in a loving, earth shattering kiss. He was right, your lips are so kissable. They fit perfectly with his and he can’t seem to get past the taste of your lips, they’ve got him wanting more and more of you.
His hands roam over your clothed covered body. He can feel how plush your skin is, how soft you’re going to be underneath your clothes. He can feel how much love is radiating from you…and you can feel the love from him as he peppers kisses to your lips over and over again in rushes.
“I hate how you talk about yourself….it hurts that you think about yourself like that.” Bucky whispers as he peppers kisses to your neck and collarbone. He’s laying in between your legs, his bulky body over yours. “I want to praise you, tell you how much you’re worth because god damnit you just don’t fucking get it.” Bucky mumbles against your bare shoulder- exposing it since he pulled your shirt over a little- before placing a kiss there. Little whimpers pass your lips, but sex is definitely not something you were expecting tonight. Not that you don’t want it with Bucky, but you’d like to take your time.
Your hands grab onto his biceps and he stops- sensing something might be wrong. His eyes peer down at your messy hair, your parted lips, and your pretty eyes as he waits for you to talk- tell him what’s wrong. “Bucky… i don’t want to have sex tonight.” “That’s completely okay, babydoll. But let me show you how much i love you. Do you trust me to do that? No sex involved at all?” You nod and he slips his fingers into the waist band of your shorts, pulling them down. “No further than this and i’ll lift your shirt up a little. That’s it, is that okay?” He asks and you reply, “that’s fine, Bucky” fully trusting the man before you.
You let him discard of your shorts, then his hands are placed on your thighs. His metal hand caresses the skin and his flesh hand does the same to your other thigh. He can’t get over how soft they are- how pretty they are. The little stretch marks he can see makes a smile come to his lips and his heart is beating hard in his chest. The fact that you have razor bumps on your thighs concerns the absolute shit out of you, but Bucky doesn’t even seem to care as he looks and admires the sight of your thick thighs. “God, doll. Your thighs are so pretty.” He mumbles before he lays down on his stomach, his head right in between your legs. You curl up a bit, but Bucky gives you a reassuring look. “No sex, just love.” He clarifies, then his lips are peppering kisses to your thighs. His lips make sure to give love especially to your stretch marks and you take notice of this.
Bucky’s touch is sweet and tender, he’s careful. He even lets his cheek rest on the top of your thigh for a minute- his dog tags even laying cool against the side of your thigh as well-, his scruff tickles you, but you love every second of it. He then lifts your shirt up a bit, watching your face as he does so to make sure you’re okay, then he peppers kisses to it, too. He notices the stretch marks across there as well and he purely gushes over them. He loves them. He makes sure to show them extra love as well, because that’s what his girl deserves. He even mutters how absolutely in love he is with you and your soft tummy- how it’s going to make such a nice pillow for him to sleep on. He even continues on and says, “you can even play with my hair while i’m laying on your tummy, babydoll. I can hold you close and love you.” Needless to say, Bucky has your heart soaring with love and adoration for him. “Bucky…” you whine when his scruff rubs across your tummy and tickles you. “Yes, babydoll?” He huskily asks, his eyes peering up at you as he continues to kiss every inch of your exposed tummy. “Come here.” You tell him, and he does.
Bucky slides up your body, with the help of you grabbing his dog tags, and meets his lips with yours for another passionate kiss. This time you have enough time to enjoy the bliss of it. The smell of the shampoo he has over here at your place that he used earlier, the smell of the laundry detergent you use for your clothes, the feeling of his soft lips on yours that taste like mint toothpaste, and his scuff that brushes you in just the right way so it doesn’t hurt. “Thank you, i love you.” You mumble against his lips, pretty much breathless from the kiss. “I love you too, so much.” He mumbles back before his lips connect with yours again.
You’re not sure what time you two exactly fall asleep. You spend time kissing and cuddled up, talking about random shit until you do pass out. And in the morning, you wake up to find his head against your tummy and his arms around your waist with your hands nestled in his locks- just like he said he would.
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sicjimin · 3 years
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Hi, I hope you’re doing well.💕 I just read a head canon post (from softbtsickies, if you haven’t seen it yet😅) and it said Jimin loves belly rubs, only when he is bloated he doesn’t let anyone touch him because he gets insecure. So I wanted to ask if you could write something about that. Him not feeling well but being to insecure to get comforted but in the end his partner helps him feel better about it and lots of fluff?🥺 With caretaker Jungkook ☺️
A.N : im sorry this is take a looonngg time for me to write T.T and im sorry if this not fluff enough ... i hope this meet your expectations , enjoy ~ and i hope you're doing well too, thank you for requesting !
TW : emeto
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Jimin shifts his body slowly, searching for a comfortable position without jostling his bloated stomach too much. His palm still hovering over it for the past hours, hiding under the oversized baby blue sweater, while his eyes busy scanning the webtoon he's currently read—even though his focus is somewhere else, that's not other than "how to make himself to feel better".
He moved his eyes, trailed to the door that opened, showing Jungkook brushing his hair with a towel in an attempt to dry it. Jimin closed his eyes as he inhales the calming scent of Jungkook's soap and shampoo that filling the room immediately.
"Hyung", Jungkook calls out as he scoots over beside the older, " What are you doing?", he asks, dropping his hand on Jimin's body like it's an automatic response while he tries to peek on the phone. Jimin sucked his breath unconsciously when the weight added to his already tight stomach. "Webtoon", he answers, squirmed away and tried to bat Jungkook's hands away, " Kook, moves. You're heavy, and your hair is still dripping wet!", Jimin whines, gaining a grin from the younger before he walks out to the bathroom and turning on the hairdryer.
Jimin huffed as his fingers tighten their grip on his stomach. It hurts and is tight. He grimaces when a burp erupted from his stomach. It's disgusting, as he could taste bulgogi from dinner he just ate. He tried to return his attention to the webtoon again, mindlessly rubbing his stomach, when Jungkook return, plopping himself back beside Jimin and again, immediately wrapped his arms around the older. Jungkook nuzzled himself under Jimin's arms, wanted to rest his hair on Jimin's chest, but Jimin squirmed away.
"Kook, no"
Jungkook frown as he whines, "Hyung ... i want a cuddle! you promised me earlier!"
"I did?"
"Yes !!", Jimin feels a little bit guilty as he sees Jungkook went on full pout now, " Tomorrow?", Jimin asks.
"If we can do it tonight, why tomorrow?", Jungkook squints his eyes, it's not usual for Jimin to refuse some cuddles at night, especially because he's just naturally clingy.
Jimin sighs when his brain gives up to make up some excuse. He put his phone on the nightstand, "I'm just .. not feeling well tonight"
"Huh? Are you okay hyung?", pouts on Jungkook's lips morph into a concerned expression as his eyes trailed over the older body to observe
Jimin put on a strained smile, he could feel his stomach content sloshing inside. He pressed his fist on his lips when another burp escaped, "Dunno .. my stomach feel so bloated. I think dinner is way too much for me"
Jungkook scoots closer, leaning his back to the bed rest. Jimin naturally curled himself against the younger, inhaling the fresh scent from Jungkook's soap. It's relaxing, "Do you want me to rub your stomach hyung?"
"Don't", Jimin mumbled.
"Why? You loved it?"
Jimin shakes his head slowly, curled himself smaller, his fingers twisting Jungkook's shirt on his palm, "Just .. don't"
Jungkook grows more concerned at the remarks, "Is it that bad hyung?"
Jimin hums quietly, didn't want to voice out how terrible he felt because it will make him more aware, "Maybe it will pass soon. Lets just sleep, i'm tired"
He opened his eyes when he feels Jungkook slips from his arms and moving from the bed, "Kook, where are you going?", Jimin whines, squinting his eyes as the room is dimmed.
"Gonna fetch some hot pack, maybe it will help your stomach", Jungkook says, his thumb grazing a gentle rub on Jimin's, " Will be back", and with that he disappears behind the door. He comes back soon enough though, having fetched a hot pack that was already being prepared in advance for him, along with one of those little paper cups filled with water. Jimin watches as he sets them down carefully near him, "Thank you", he mumbled, his eyes trailed at Jungkook shaking the pack, making it warm, " Drink that water hyung, and let me placed this for you"
Jimin nods and takes a sip, it settled heavily in his stomach. "I can do it on my own", he says after and take the pack from Jungkook's hands, quietly slides it under his swelling stomach. " Now lets sleep", Jimin curled himself back under the comforter, sighing in contentment when Jungkook's palms rubbing the fabric on his back slowly. It feels nice along with the warmth that starts spreading in his stomach. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, right after he heard Jungkook murmured softly, "Feel better soon, hyung"
Jimin didn't know how long it has been since he drifted off but all he knows is everything feel worse. Maybe it was a sign from his body to make him give up and just ... throw everything up.
He slowly hauled himself from Jungkook's arms. Moving his body as quietly as possible so he won't wake the younger, but failed miserably as the latter is still half awake.
"Where are you going, hyung?", Jungkook rasps, his fingers blindly reaching for the older's arms as he try to collect his soul fully.
"Bathroom .. i don't feel good", Jimin mumbled, and with that remarks, Jungkook is completely awake. He shifts himself, propped on his elbow so he gets a better look at the older that fidgeting with his sweater, " You're gonna be sick?"
Jimin shut his eyes when his stomach flip, resulting in a wet burp, "Dunno .. maybe .." Jimin's voice trails off, he was trying hard to keep the food down.
He was about to continue his sentence but another churn from his stomach stopped him. Jungkook left agape when he sees the older jump from the bed, slamming the bathroom door, urgently trapping a bigger mess from his stomach.
Jungkook sighs, running his fingers on his black hair, before making his way to the bathroom. He could hear Jimin chokes and sputters, along with the loud splashing of thick liquid on the toilet. Jungkook winces, "Hyung, are you okay? Let me in", he knocks cautiously after waiting few minutes for an answer. He heard a muffled, " I'm fine, i will be out in few minutes, don't worry", followed by another series of retch as Jimin sends more of his dinner up.
Jungkook bites his lips, standing awkwardly in front of the closed door. But he knows he can't force the situation so he leaves him to be instead. With a sigh he walks back to his room, throwing himself on his bed again. After some time had passed, Jimin walks back into their bed with a grim look plastered to his face. Jungkook looks at his hyung, noticing how tired the latter looked.
"Feel better hyung?", Jungkook asks softly, running his fingers to card the blonde hair that now dampens with sweats as Jimin curled himself on his side," I feel light .. and exhausted", he manages out in a raspy voice as he shifts into a more comfortable position, eyes slipping shut and hand finding its way into Jungkook's waist. He feels his muscle relaxed under Jungkook's gentle touch.
"Need another hot pack? Tea? Medicine?", Jimin giggles when he could feel Jungkook's curious and worried eyes on him. He opened his eyes and lift his head to meet the latter gaze, " Later, now let's go back to sleep, Jungkookie, I'm tired"
"But .. your stomach .. is it already feel better?"
Jimin rolled his eyes, fondly, "I'm fine. I will take medicine tomorrow. It hasn't eased up yet if i take medicine now it will just come up again. Now i just want to sleep, okay?"
"Hot pack?", Jungkook asks again.
"Kook"
"Okay let's sleep, Jimin hyung. Wake me up if you need anything", Jungkook gives up as he slides himself under the comforter, still wrapping the older one in his arms.
"Don't stop rubbing my back", Jimin mumbled, gaining a soft hums from the latter, before he completely lulled and slips into dreamland.
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julia-ana11 · 3 years
Text
New Day, Same Problems
The days all blur together at this point. It’s the same routine everyday. Wake up to the sounds of my many alarms. Sleep through my Zoom classes. Finally lift my large body out of bed. Look at the clock only to realize I’ve slept half the day away. I hate that I am wasting my life away but I revel in it briefly, happy that I was able to skip breakfast and lunch. I muster up the energy to take a shower, brush my teeth, get dressed into another pair of pajamas. Normal things that I force myself to do nowadays. I promise myself I’ll wait until 5pm to eat something light. Then 3 pm hits and my stomach growls. I desperately guzzle down water. My stomach feels bloated and the liquid inside sloshes with every movement I make. My will begins to break as I smell the food my mom is making in the kitchen. They call me to eat, and I can’t refuse. I force myself to imagine that the food is disgusting. But, in reality, it’s not. It’s delicious. I shovel more and more forkfuls into my mouth until I’m utterly stuffed. As soon as I come down from my food high, the panic sets in. Why did I eat that? I’m so stupid. I hate myself. I immediately regret my dumb decisions, fueled by irrational thoughts. I wallow in self pity, neglecting my weeks worth of assignments. I reassure myself, tell myself a lie to make myself feel better. I say that I won’t eat for the rest of the day. This seems to work until suddenly it’s 9pm, and my damn stomach betrays me once again. The incessant growling distracts me from my work. I put headphones in to drown out the noise, drink a gallon of water to satiate my hunger. I can’t take it anymore. I go to the kitchen, tell myself I’ll grab a yogurt or a banana. But I don’t want those things. I need those things, yes, but what I actually want are the bags of chips on the counter. My body lets me down and I eat everything within reach. My mind screams at me but my tastebuds are excited, delighted by the taste of my favorite, calorie filled foods. After my episode, I shamefully clean up after myself, leaving not even a crumb so as to not let my parents find out. But they know. They see me growing larger everyday, see me hide underneath oversized shirts and sweatpants. They know but I pretend to not believe that they do. My delicate state of sanity would be shattered if I admitted that people can see my body and can see the damage I am doing to it. After cleaning up after myself, I futilely try to repair the damage, do some workouts. The fat hanging off me does me no favors. I am sweaty and disgusting after five minutes. I once again give up, just like everything else I do in my life. I take another shower and have a pity party for myself, even though I know that I am the source of all my problems. My work is not yet done, so I stay up late, desperately trying to keep control of at least one thing in my life. The clock reads 3 am. I am exhausted. I climb into bed and scroll on TikTok. I am bombarded by pretty and skinny women, girls that I know I will never look like but I can help but strive towards it. My eyes grow heavy and my last thought before succumbing to sleep is, I will do better tomorrow. I go to bed and the cycle repeats. Day after day after day. This insufferable routine keeps me trapped in a hell of my own doing. But this is all I’ve ever known. This thin line between starvation and binging. The only question I can ask myself is: “will it always be like this?”However, I don’t want an answer. I don’t want to accept this life forever. But I’m scared of change. So I will live in my routine until I can’t anymore.
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echo-hiraeth · 3 years
Text
The Changing Table - Frankie Morales x Pregnant F!Reader
Summary: Part of the Ikea series. At eight months pregnant, you and your husband, Frankie are eager to finish up your nursery, he even asks his friends to come help out. However, it seems putting a changing station together isn’t as easy as you’d expect.
Warnings: swearing, pregnancy, mentions of labour
Big thanks to @peterhollandkait​ for helping me think of this one :))
Masterlist
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“Hermosa, what did I say about that?”, Frankie tuts as he takes the paintbrush from your hand. “You need to rest.”
“I’m fine Frankie”, you reassure him, placing a hand on the swell of your belly.
“C’mon, let’s get you out of here and back on that couch”, he says, softly guiding you with a hand on your sore back.
As he helps you down on the couch you look around, frowning when seeing the amount of cardboard boxes surrounding you. “Is it just me or are there even more boxes now?”
He sighs loudly from the kitchen, getting the both of you something to drink. “The movers dropped off the last of our stuff. I told you it was a bad idea to move now, querida.”
You playfully roll your eyes as he hands you a glass of water. “I thought you liked adventures!”
“Not when my wife is eight months pregnant”, he scoffs, protectively resting a hand on your huge bump.
“I’d kiss you if I could”, you taunt, flashing him one of your brightest smiles.
He leans forward to catch your lips in a gentle kiss, his hand never leaving your bump. “I love you.”
“I know you do honey, but if you don’t let me do at least something around here, I swear I’m going to die of boredom.”
“What if you unpack those clothes while I finish putting together the wardrobe?”, he offers, eyes soft and caring.
“I’ll take it! Any chance to see my man at work”, you tease, pressing your lips to his again.
“Isn’t that how we got here in the first place?”, he jokes gesturing towards your swollen stomach.
You laugh at that, playfully swatting his hand away. “Don’t remind me Morales. I’m sure you’ll pay for what you did to me in that delivery room.”
 The rest of your day is spent in the nursery. While Frankie puts together the wardrobe, as promised, you unpack the boxes of clothes and smaller items. Your radio is playing some music while the two of you work in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s company. It isn’t until you start to cry that Frankie breaks away from the instruction manual.
“Querida, what’s wrong, are you in pain?”, he asks while worriedly kneeling in front of your rocking chair.
You’re holding a tiny romper, chest heaving as you sob. “It-it’s just so cute and tiny.”
He smiles to himself and wraps his arms around you. “Hey, it’s okay. I know it is, just wait until there’s a baby in it.” You smile at him, engulfing him in another loving kiss. “Do you want to stop for the night?”
You nod as you pout, the hormones completely taking over. Frankie smiles at you once again as he helps you stand. A grunt leaves your mouth as you place a hand on your aching back. “Want to get the heating pad in a bit?”
“You’re reading my mind, Love.”
 As much as you didn’t want to, you had to agree with Frankie. Moving houses while pregnant wasn’t the greatest idea you ever had, but the two of you had outgrown your tiny apartment. You’d been living in the new house for a little less than a month now, seeing that the lease on your previous place had ended. Most of your free time was spent renovating the new residence, much to your husband’s dismay. The boys and your friends had been helping out when they could and it was slowly coming together. Most of the rooms, except for the second bathroom and nursery, were done and only needed furnishing and decorating. So at eight months pregnant, you spent your time painting and furnishing your baby’s room. Frankie couldn’t leave you out of his sight for even just an hour. The first time you’d been home alone, he’d come back to seeing you sprawled out on the new carpet in the nursery, panting. He’d lectured you about the dangers and made you vow never to do something like that again.
That was another thing, as soon as you found out you were expecting Frankie went into full-on protective mode. It didn’t take long for everyone to find out, seeing how he was hovering over you everywhere you went. By the time you were three months along, he’d read every pregnancy book you owned three times already. The night you’d shown him the positive test, was the most chaotic you’d ever seen him. The poor man couldn’t stop gushing over you and how amazing your body was for growing a whole baby. So when your bump finally started showing he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, caressing and cupping your stomach whenever he saw fit.
The farther along in your pregnancy, the more useful he’d proven to be. He was there every step of the way, holding you when you needed to cry whether it was over the Disneyland commercials or your bloated figure. Your husband was a dream to have around, his hands working magic on your aching feet, back and breasts. And if you wanted a strawberry milkshake to dip your chicken nuggets in at four AM, he’d get you exactly that, no questions asked. Where other couples drifted apart the two of you grew even closer, coming to love each other more and more with every new sensation and experience.
“How’s that feel?”, Frankie asks, wedging the heating pad behind your lower back.
You let out a moan at the instant relief. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“Here, let me help you with that”, he murmurs as he unclasps your bra, another satisfied grunt leaving your mouth. “Careful now, preciosa, it hard enough to resist you as is.”
“Sorry Frankie, it’s just been a long day”, you sigh, laying your head on his shoulder.
He pulls your legs onto his lap, starting to rub your distended feet. “The guys are coming over tomorrow, to help with that changing table and the crib.” You hum in response, eyes closed as you enjoy his soothing movements. “But we need more paint and screws, so I’ll be gone for an hour or two while they’re here.”
“I don’t need a babysitter”, you chuckle, as you softly stroke his beard.
He leans into your touch, grinning: “You’ve clearly proven that you do.”
“Maybe Will can have a look at the shower, the drain keeps overflowing”, you suggest, pressing a sweet pack to his neck.
“That’s not a bad idea.” He looks at your face, noticing your relaxed features. “How about we head to bed for the night?”
That night you get little to no sleep, the baby kicking away at your bladder and spleen for most of it. You keep stirring, trying to find a somewhat comfortable position to fall asleep in, to no avail. But eventually, the baby settles down, and with Frankie’s heavy arm resting on your chest, you find some peace, only to be awoken by the pressure of your bladder a few hours later. You groan as you pull yourself up, finding the bed empty. You hurriedly waddle over to the bathroom, scolding your bump as you step on a power cord. It isn’t until you wash your face that you hear the baritones coming from downstairs.
You smile to yourself as you get dressed, settling for a flowy skirt and one of Frankie’s old and oversized t-shirts. A high ponytail and some light make-up was all you could bring yourself to do these days, panting with the slightest effort. The men were laughing together, drinking coffee as you made your way down the stairs.
“There she is!”, Benny announces, arms spread wide open as he catches sight of you.
Frankie quickly rushes over to you, holding your hands while helping you down the last couple of steps.
“Jesus Fish, she’s pregnant not immobilized”, Santiago jokes, making you huff out a breathy laugh.
“Might as well be at this point”, you groan, going to hug the three of them.
“Nonsense, you look beautiful”, Frankie shushes you, kissing your temple. The guys agree with him, successfully flattering you.
 After the five of you catch up and go over the plans for the day, Frankie gets ready to leave, car keys in hand.
“Don’t do y/n things while I’m gone”, he pleads, hands resting on your hips.
You chuckle, pecking him on the lips. “I promise I will just be there to annoy the guys. And I’ll only help out if they really need me to.”
He rubs his nose against yours, taking a deep breath. “No heavy lifting, no bending down, no standing up for too long.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Get your butt out of here now, those supplies won’t get here by themselves!”
And with that he’s gone. You shake your head as you join the three men in the nursery. “M’lady, your throne awaits”, Santiago quips, showing you to your rocking chair.
You let out a content sigh as you sit down, the three head staring right at you. “What?”
“You look a mess”, Will starts out.
“I think he means you look tired”, Benny soon corrects him, handing you the box of clothes.
You throw a romper at the both of them. “I’d like to see you try to sleep at thirty-six weeks pregnant.”
“Yeah man, have some respect for the lady”, you smile at Santiago, “she had to fuck Fish for that.”
“Santiago!”, you exclaim, mouth agape at his comment.
The men laugh in chorus as you try to hide your bashfulness. “M’sorry sweetheart, let us know if you need anything”, Pope says between laughter.
You eventually all get to work, Will (the only capable one) having left the room to check up on your shower for you. Benny and Santiago at that point have been trying to figure out how to put together the changing table’s drawers for nearly an hour.
“Oh my fucking God, how hard can it be! Give me that”, you laughed, yanking the instructions out of Benny’s hands.
The two men watch you, drill in your small hand, as you easily put the drawers together, one after the other. You were sat on your knees doing so, the backpain already settling in.
“I don’t get it, we had the same instructions, didn’t we?”, Benny questions, looking at the stack of finished drawers.
“Maybe you two are just idiots”, you jest, hammering the top of each drawer to ensure their stability.
“Hey now, no rea-“
Santi’s cut off by two bags hitting the floor, your husband standing in the doorway with a shocked face.
“Why is she holding a hammer?”, he interrupts, tone eerily calm.
The two men help you to your feet. “Well, genius, she was the only one who could figure out the instruction sheet.”
Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose, jutting his hip forward as he slowly exhales. “What. The. Hell. Did you just say?” You fail to stifle a giggle, making Frankie look up at the other two. “You mean to tell me that you made her put all of this together?”
“C’mon man, it’s not that big of a deal, she’s a big girl”, Benny intervenes.
“She is eight months pregnant!”, Frankie yells, the anger in his voice making you laugh a little louder.
“I mean, we can see that”, Santi jokes, making your husband only more furious.
Frankie shakes his head at you, still scolding his friends. “You two mean to tell me that two ex-soldiers - top soldiers - at that can’t even put together Ikea furniture?”
The three of you were laughing even harder at that, so hard that you doubled over, holding onto the small wardrobe to keep you from falling over.
“Relax Fish, she’s doing just fine”, Benny huffs, cheeks cramping up from laughing.
Will walks in, confused when seeing the four of you. “What’s going on?”, he asks glancing between you and Frankie.
Your husband crosses his arms defensively, annoyed at the three of you for laughing at his genuine concern. “Did you leave these two dumbasses alone with her?”
“Fuck man, sorry, I was just checking in on your shower problem.”
You suddenly stop laughing, making the four man look at you. The smile replaced by a look of surprise as you feel something wet trickle down your leg, onto the floor. A sharp pain hitting you right in your back. Frankie bolts over to you, steadying you as you let a whimper.
“That’s not good, is it?”, Santiago asks.
“I’ll kill you two later. Baby, look at me, are you hurting?”, Frankie’s voice softens up when talking to you, the other men leaving the room with a look of sheer horror on their face.
You shake your head at him, clutching to his arms as you start to panic. “It’s too soon Frankie, I-I”
“I told you not to do y/n things”, he taunts.
“Now’s not the time”, you grunt out between clenched teeth, another contraction hitting you.
His eyes widen a bit at that. “Let’s get you to the car.”
 While the two of you were at the hospital to deliver your bundle of joy into the world, the other guys were at your place. They finished the nursery within the next four hours, rushing over to the hospital to find out you were enduring a very long and painful labour. The three couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty and soon found themselves buying peace offerings for you in the small giftshop.
After another long and stressful seven hours, your baby boy made it into the world and your friends were finally allowed to come pay you a visit. The earlier commotion was soon forgotten when they laid eyes on your son, cooing and musing over how cute and small he was.
“We uh- decided to get you guys a new carpet as well”, Will says, watching you and Frankie with the new-born.
“You better, that’s the least you can do after making my wife endure all of this”, Frankie retorts.
“Weeeeell, technically it’s your fault for not being able to keep it in your pants”, Benny jests.
You quickly throw him a disapproving glance, gesturing towards to sleeping baby on your chest.
“Let’s just hope this kid turns out like his mother”, Santi sighs, smiling at your little family.
Years later the two of you still tease your friends about those drawers, telling your son the story of how a pregnant woman kicked two macho’s asses. Frankie gladly goes along with it, secretly grateful for that night, God knows he couldn’t stand to see you so miserable for another four weeks. But by the time your second pregnancy nears its end, the guys have read up on Ikea furniture building, determined to kick your ass this time around.
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mightysteelix · 3 years
Text
Pent Up Desires (Fic)
Ever since the summer event last year, I've been toying with the idea of a larger Robin. And now that its rerun is about to come, I've decided that it is time to finally write it out - and meanwhile hit as many of my kink buttons as possible. This is the result - one of my most indulgent works (if not the most indulgent work to beat them all).
Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Relationship: Robin Hood | Archer/Billy the Kid | Archer Characters: Robin Hood | Archer and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: Do you remember when B.B. said she would turn Robin into a pig during ServaFes? What if she followed on the threat, albeit with quite the twist?
Robin is cursed and can't control himself around food. Billy has promised to help, but he can't control himself around Robin.
Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.
WARNING FOR KINK CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT
Additional Tags: Weight Gain; Belly Kink; Size Kink; Size Difference; Masturbation; Dry Humping; Stuffing; musclechub; Robin gets huge; And Billy tries not to jerk off whenever he sees him; Self-Indulgent
LAST WARNING FOR KINK
Summer was in full swing, and Babbage blasted enough steam to make Chaldea hotter than a waterless hole in the heart of the prairie. So, it did not come as a shock that Robin was rockin’ only trunks and an open shirt, which showed some well-sculpted arms. The guy was hell-fired handsome with the finest body ever, and if he wanted to kick back, Billy wouldn’t protest. Nay, what hit like a bullet to the brain was the ton of food in front of him—meats, loaves of bread, and a raft of drinks.
“How’s it goin’, partner?” Billy plopped down in a chair next to Robin. “Famished after Servant Fes sucked the life outta ya?”
“It’s…” Robin, with a larger scowl on his face than usual, panted. “It’s that… purple-haired witch’s fault.” He grabbed a drumstick and tore off some meat like a starved wolf. “She threatened to turn me in a pig…” His face was red with effort. “We had to win her Holy Grail…” He bit another chunk. “Don’t worry,”—Billy stifled a giggle when Robin mocked the Master’s voice—“she won’t follow on it.’ It’s easy to speak when this isn’t happening to them!” After chewin’ the last of the drumstick thoroughly, he swallowed. The slow gulp traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Robin punched his chest and exhaled in relief.
Billy’s eyes followed it and glued themselves to Robin’s gut. It was taut, bloated, as large as a basketball—and just as hard if he touched it. The pressure was makin’ the skin around the belly button burn angrily. The trunks rested under the overgorged curve, a trial of ginger peekin’ below the band. “True, partner, you’re becomin’ a nice piggy,” Billy quipped. “So, the purple lass’s itchin’ for a vendetta, and she chose ya?”
After he popped a soda open and drank half the bottle—his gurglin’ gut sloshin’ and expandin’ even more—Robin nodded. “She cursed the clothes. And I must’ve stepped on her toes something fierce when I complained to Master. Now I can’t even take the swimsuit off.” He grit his teeth, his handsome face (Was that the start of a double chin? Nay, don’t stare!) grimacin’ as he tried to keep the fizz down. His strained jaws opened as if pried apart, and with shakin’ hands, he poured in the rest of the drink. His neck bobbed; his stomach filled and grew in every direction. “Whenever I see—urp!”
Robin closed his mouth. His cheeks bulged with a held-back belch. Yet the stress forced his lips to open: “UUUURRPPP!” He bowed his limp head away. “Excuse me,” he muttered. “But when there’s any food—anything—I must eat it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll explode; my hands will push it down to my stomach.” He slapped the swollen ball, it barely swayin’. Something bubbled in its depths rose in his throat, and he let out another lengthy burp.
Bitin’ his lips, Billy leaned closer. “Have ya tried stayin’ outta here? Far from the eyes, far from the heart and all that?” he advised Robin, his eyes lookin’ anywhere but that overstuffed middle.
“I’m trying. But she’s pulling that Archer’s strings, too.” Robin grunted and glanced at the kitchen while devourin’ a buttered slice of bread. “If I leave my room, he’s on my tail with a cupcake or some other treat. Before I know it, I am dragged here and”—he pointed to the ungodly number of plates—“you see the rest.”
Billy nodded slowly, his whole willpower holdin’ him from lickin’ his lips. A fire was blazin’ in his chest—and his groin. He knew EMIYA’s dirty little secret way too well: the way a man’s gluttony melted him faster than an ice cube durin’ high noon. The Archer had left his treats unguarded when Amakusa discovered his sweet tooth. And when the Ruler came one morning, enormously flabby and flauntin’ it at every step, the pervert couldn’t stop blushin’! For Billy’s shock, neither could he. So did they become accomplices, secret friends bound by a common desire.
But gettin’ his pleasure from Robin, who hated every second of it? Damn, that was a new lowest of the low! Billy’s neck ached with strain as he did his best not to look, but he wouldn’t give in! “Forgive the question, partner,” he dropped it, hopin’ to divert the talk, “but if ya’re stuffin’ down so much food, how are ya not as fat as that priest boy?”
Robin clicked his tongue. “I’ve been burning off the calories. When I am not gulping down food here, I’m in the gym to work out. Doesn’t stop flab from piling.” Billy squinted, lookin’ for it, and caught himself. “But it does help.”
With some vigor, Billy’s line of sight moved higher—towards Robin’s arms. True, they were meatier, fillin’ the short sleeves of the shirt. Robin wasn’t a stick before, either, but now he was more powerful. Gorwin’. Maybe his legs had also bulked, but Billy didn’t wanna risk lookin’ at that gut again.
“Of course, after the training, my stomach is starving, and I chew down more food to make up for it. You should see how much EMIYA brings me then.”
Even more? Billy gulped—and before his brain could call out the horrible, horrible idea, he spoke. “Do ya need a partner for this job, partner? Someone to help with the trainin’ and to keep your appetite under control? Because ya can rely on me!”
“You know, that might help. Thanks a bunch!” Robin’s relieved smile stabbed Billy’s heart like a dagger. “Do you want to try it once I’m done here?”
“Sorry!” Billy jumped outta his chair. He wasn’t goin’ to ditch Robin—he owed up to his offers. “I’ve gotta do something else first!” Namely, one red Archer needed a few bullet wounds and a lecture on personal boundaries. “But tomorrow I’ll help ya!” And hopefully, he wouldn’t end distracted by that amazing, achy, hungry gut.
---
“Damn that EMIYA!” Billy shouted as he collapsed on his bed. “And that purple wretch, too! When did they form their party?” His talk with the red Archer a day ago had gone to the dogs. That man had balls of steel—no matter how many threats or bullets Billy wasted, EMIYA did not budge. And B.B. had hidden in her little mouse hole, without a trace of her anywhere in Chaldea. Billy couldn’t find her, no matter how many rooms he checked—as the stupid chef had told him.
“No whiff of the Master, either,” Billy grumbled. Da Vinci had promised to deal with the unruly pair, but B.B. would stop only if her so precious senpai ordered her. And unless she lifted the curse before breakfast tomorrow, Billy woulda to help Robin with the training again. The pillow muffled his screams. His heart woulda exploded in his chest after watchin’ his partner once. God help him if he had to see him bustle those weights while his gut shifted and gurgled. He hadn’t stopped glarin’ at the packed sphere once, paying attention and squirmin’ whenever it swayed. Robin’s unintended teasin’—him drummin’ over the sphere every once in a while—made it even worse. Billy barely had survived today; tomorrow would kill him!
Even worse, he said some calories stuck as fat. Did that mean an ever-flabbier Robin with a softenin’ gut? How much feedin’s would it take ‘till it became an enormous tank of lard; ‘till it sagged over his deck and he needed someone’s help to jerk himself off? It would jiggle whenever he took a step, it would flop over his shorts—hell, Robin woulda to pull them under his belly! His shirt would hide nothing; nay, it would show off those juicy curves.
Billy’s crotch twitched. No! He clenched fists, his nails diggin’ in his palms. “I’m not beatin’ it to Robin, no matter how smokin’ hot he becomes!” There were boundaries to those things! He rolled, now lyin’ on his back. His dick was makin’ a tent in his pants. The movement only made it rub against the fabric, and the pleasure flared up even more. “Self-control, self-control, self-control!” Billy repeated like a mantra. A burnin’, powerful feelin’ arose in his chest.
Would Robin gain love handles, too? They’d be juicy and plump, always to be grabbed when there was a chance. Billy imagined squeezin’ them in his fingers, the flab jigglin’. Would they push his shirt even higher, so large that nothing would cover them? And when Robin tugged it relentlessly, his gut would shake. The threads would strain and groan, but the clothes wouldn’t fit over that engorged mass. When he gained moobs…
Billy shut his eyes. His body was tense and feverishly hot. Sweat was burnin’ his forehead, and the flame in his dick pulsated through him. He shouldn’t think about those two swayin’, soft sacks of flab. He shouldn’t imagine carresin’ them, kissin’ them. Precum moistened his underpants.
“Who knew: I’m a pervert enough to do it!” Gruntin’, Billy peeled off his pants and pulled down his briefs, freein’ his dick. “Only this time!” He snatched the lube from his nightstand—his hands trembled and almost dropped it on the floor—and generously coated his fingers. “Do yer fuckin’ worst, libido!” he swore and began pumpin’ his cock. The first touch rustled through his body, a torrent of pleasure to drown him. No, oh no, oh, oh, oh yes, yes! He was breathin’ heavily, and his hand didn’t stop.
Robin’s moobs would show under his shirt—nay, so large that he couldn’t fit clothes over them. He’d parade around naked, a total show-off, his gut, and moobs, and love handles, and delicious, delicious backrolls for the whole world to ogle. The shirt would be a mere piece of fabric, stretched and useless, good only for hidin’ his shoulders—if even that!
Billy tried to hold his moans—keep at least that dignity. His insides were coilin’, his muscles were shiverin’. His dick stiffened more, and he drew every movement long until his body woulda broken under the strain of lust. He gulped the moan down, opened his lips for a hasty breath, and closed them immediately, the pant havin’ built up in his throat.
Robin would become a titan of a man, his torso a lardy mountain. He would carry all the weight, his freakin’ strong body put to good use. Those powerful arms he boasted an entire day—that was a start because he would also swell with packed flesh. His shorts would tear around his tights, the veiny mass crackin’ them apart. But he would pay no attention to that. The curse would drive him to eat and eat, glut himself more, unable to fight the thrall of the food. He would complain of his growth but never resist because he couldn’t—not even when he outgrew the chairs, the doors, the halls.
His stomach would be stuffed at all times, yet callin’ for more. What if Billy brought him snacks to the gym? Robin went only there and to the dinin’ hall. What if they shortened that time? What if he did not stop fillin’ his gut, gorgin’ himself, the sphere bloatin’ out of proportions, dominatin’ his already enormous frame? Then he would explode into more impossible, more gargantuan sizes. There would be no end, no control, only expansion and flab, and muscle…
Billy arched his back. A desperate, loud moan—almost a hiss—left his lips before he could bite it down. He was thrusting more rapidly, hastily, desperate for that release. If only he coulda Robin with himself, to have his way him.
If he were there—small, almost invisible next to the giant that was Robin, he would cheer. He would rejoice as the other Archer lifted heavier and heavier weights in the gym, his muscles so swole that they would tear the skin open. Veins would run under the sweaty flesh, visible over the bloated mass. And when Robin wanted to eat… Oh, boy, Billy would make sure he packed away his fill. He would push the meals in the other Archer’s mouth, rub his belly to provide comfort, and squish the flab under his fingertips, enjoy it as the gut would seemingly grow under his touch. Or, it would be tight and heavy, stretched to its limits, angry and protestin’ the constant stuffings. But it would be so used to the fullness and the cursed hunger that Robin wouldn’t handle a second without bein’ stuffed. It would be like an addiction—nay, it would be one—to eatin’, to blowin’ up, to growin’ fatter.
And if Robin enjoyed it as much as Billy, then the blond would have no problem givin’ some bonus help. He closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s dick in his hand. The massive roll of his gut pressed into the fingers, and as Billy stroked the cock, it would groan and roar, so overstuffed that it could burst open. He could also ride that massive ball, rub his member all over it while pushin’ caloric meals into Robin’s stomach. Or he could push his shaft between the two lardy ass checks and fuck Robin!
There, almost there! Billy was pantin’, out of breath, hot as coals. His ghosting fingertips ran across the red tip of his dick. It was an itchy, sudden touch that quickly ended. He hoped to prolong that sick, depraved cravin’ for as long as possible. Thoughts of relief were pushed to the corners of his mind.
Once their efforts came to an end, Robin would be huge, too large for his puny clothes. He would march around Chaldea, showin’ off his naked, heavy, thick body. The muscles would sway, the veins of his biceps and calves would shift. His enormous gut—so enormous that it would fall over his erect dick—would gurgle at every step: either achy and overfilled or not full enough and needin’ more. Robin would tend to it, gloat, relish in his new size and consume even more food. He would feed himself further into titanic sizes. Control would slip out of his mind. After gorgin’ himself, he’d be so horny, so desperate, that he’d pound Billy straight there in the canteen.
Cum shot outta Billy’s cock over his hand, and he was moanin’. His sheets were sticky as the white liquid soaked them., but he kept squeezin’ the last few lustful drops. The heat was sated, the achin’ hole in his chest filled for the time bein’. But, he realized with newfound clarity, tomorrow it would set him on fire again. And the thought of Robin attackin’ the filled tables like a beast sent a shiver down his dick again.
---
“Almost… There!” Robin grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed up the barbell. His arms stretched, his large muscles expandin’ to their full size and squeezin’ again. His sleeves were already rolled as high as possible, not fittin’ around his swollen arms but tried to creep up more. Sweat was glistenin’ on the skin as it rippled - a proof of the effort he was puttin’ in. His round pecs—as big as apples—flexed, hard despite the flab that covered them. They swayed rhythmically as the weight moved up and down, plusatin’, tensin, and relaxin’: one, two; one, two. Billy’s eyes traced them as they shook, and he could see himself gropin’ them, holdin’ that powerful flesh… “And done!” Robin’s proud shout snapped out Billy. But it was for the worse because the huge Archer sittin’ on the bench let the barbell in place and scratched the curve of his gut, which rolled over his waist.
Fidgetin’ and tremblin, about as helpful as a snowball in a summer gunfight, Billy was warmin’ a nearby bench. He had been comin’ every day, unable to tear eyes away from the clothes that seemed to shrink around Robin’s growin’ body. The gym trips didn’t make him any smaller—especially when, after every workout session, Robin gorged himself until his bloated stomach couldn’t fit a morsel more. Then, he’d complain he was so full, drag out long moans and poke the stuffed sphere. As he sated his gluttony, it distended, pushed out more, and sometimes—a hot thrill cut through Billy—rested on his lap.
Billy bit his lips, strugglin’ not to slip a hand down in his pants right at the gym. He rubbed his tights together. His face was sizzlin’ like fire, and his breaths were rushed, unruly, desperate. He shook his head, hopin’ to clear the fantasy, but choose the damned best worst moment.
Robin jumped on the floor. The shockwave rocked the bench. Didn’t the equipment also rattle? Billy swallowed and the gulp lodged in his throat. He was shiverin’, truly feverish, trying’ to look away from the handsome behemoth. He knew what was comin’, but his neck refused to budge.
“Let’s go to the canteen.” Robin grinned lazily, his chubby cheeks jigglin’ a little. “After this stress, I should eat something.” He drew fingers over his exposed belly. Hadn’t he started touchin’ it more often—almost as if he got his kicks outta it.
No, no, no! Don’t think like that!
“Wasn’t the plan that you stopped stuffin’ your face, partner?” Billy wanted to stall—he was a god-damned coward. Once he saw Robin gulpin’ down food like there was no tomorrow, all pretenses of holdin’ back would fly straight outta the window. “Ya sure it’s not the purple hag’s doin’?” He didn’t know if he had the power to stand up without his legs meltin’ in a puddle.
Robin crossed arms behind his back, the mass of his bulky arms and forearms pressin’ together. “Does it matter much? I mean, I am not sprouting a pigtail, right? I was worried B.B. was literal with her curse.” He glanced down at his belly. “I can get used to some flab.”
Billy’s small body clenched as he struggled to hold back a moan. Robin was already a damn-fine lady-killer—in that case, a bloke-killer. His awesome, broad shoulders led to beefy arms, as thick as tree trunks - as possible capable of tearin’ them outta the ground. A soft layer of flab—quiverin’ unless Robin flexed—bloated their size further. But if Billy dragged fingers over ‘em, he’d feel the packed bulk underneath. Those powerful monsters could—a hiss of pleasure pinned him to the bench—snap him in two. Robin’s muscles were top-notch, too: wider than his arms, shaped by constant bustin’ at the gym and the very act of carryin’ his bulk. They were veiny, ripped, and made the puny summer shorts stretch and ride up under the curve of Robin’s gut.
That lardy overhand attracted attention without fail. It was an enormous sphere of pure fat. The hidden muscles kept it in a firm, massive, fat ball. Robin still tugged the shirt around his oversize middle; the buttons ached and shook, hangin’ for their dear life. His poor shorts fared even worse, trapped between the titanic tights and the blobby belly, strained into a thin line of fabric. What if, while Robin was packin’ away food, it snapped in two, no longer survivin’ the pressure? Would he shrug it off and keep eatin’, too gluttonous to consider it? Would he glut himself, his pecs—round, sightly saggin’, the perfect ending touch to his appearance—wobblin’ at the fast movements?
“Hey! Are you coming?” Robin asked. He had turned his back towards Billy. The shirt rested well above his soft, squeezable love handles, which trembled with each step. His bloated ass cheeks pressed together, foldin’ as he walked. The shorts barely covered them—and if Robin kept feedin’ himself and expandin’, no clothing would fit him. When the threads snapped, and his body exploded outta them.
Billy’s mouth opened wide, and he stood up, followin’ their hypnotizin’ sway. It wouldn’t come to that, would it? Robin had more self-control, did he not? But he had no problem with growin’ fatter—and if his eager steps were an indication, he could even await it. Billy’s imagination quickly did its job, paintin’ a pic of Robin, who was eatin’ no longer with resignation but with cheer. He would adore the way his flab folded or his muscles swelled. He would rejoice more the less he could see under the dome of his girth, proudly lift even heavier barbells and dumbbells and eat his weight in food.
“Come, or you’ll miss everything!” Robin shouted from the hall, turnin’ so fast that ripples spread through the entire mass of his engorged gut.
“I’m comin’, partner!” With an uneasy waddle, Billy followed him. Had he found out? Could he? As if he was a mutt with a yanked chain, the blond rushed down to the canteen. His brain could wait. Robin was right; Billy needed to see every second of that show.
---
Billy’s legs dragged him towards the canteen sluggishly, weakly. He hesitated at every step, pulled back, and then minced forward. What if someone saw him? He had to scram as fast as possible, get far from the dinin’ room. His dick was throbbin’ in his pants—and they were so tight that the whole Chaldea musta noticed. Hot sweat soaked him to the bone: anxiety, arousal, and anticipation. He had clenched his hands and mustered whatever willpower was left to him. “I’m not beatin’ it in the halls,” he murmured in the lonely corridor. “No matter how much I’m burnin’, no matter if it’ll drive me insane, no matter that Robin’s embraced piggin’ out and when I enter the canteen, I’ll find him stuffin’ himself sick.” Each second was painfully long-drawn torture as the twitches of pleasure set him ablaze.
“Can you walk faster, please? You partner”—the voice was so heavy with sarcasm that Billy could see it drippin’—“is inside and has already begun. If you arrive too late, he will have finished.”
“EMIYA!” Billy crouched in his shootin’ position. The tight pants rubbed his sensitive cock, and he felt himself edgin’ closer to release. He tried to hide the dick with his hands but brushed its tender head. “You’ve got a lotta courage,” he tried to push away that shameless joy, “showin’ up before my eyes.”
“Keep the rage for later. The curse would have failed if he did not enjoy it.” The unfazed Archer passed by him. Then, he stopped, glanced around shiftily, and turned back. “And you don’t have to thank me for this. Honestly. The grand plan was someone else’s.”
“I’m gonna give you all the gratitude you deserve, no worries!” Billy reached for his gun, but EMIYA slipped past him and disappeared.
He coulda chased the Archer, but there were more pressing things.
With the red vermin gone, Billy opened the doors and entered the canteen. He moved through empty chairs. The lively hall was now ghastly empty, not a sound to distract him.
Only one table was occupied—or, more accurately, three tables put together as a one. There was no other way the oversize feast woulda fitted. Potatoes, dazzlin’ with melted butter; meats with sauce as thick as syrup; mountains of golden, crispy fried rice—those were a few of the dishes, reversed for the special guest. And he was wolfin’ down a huge plate of appetizers along with a large bottle of soda to keep him company, the same ol’ grin plastered on his face. “Hey, partner!” he spoke, his mouth full. “I would say that you can pick whatever you like, but, uh, I have the feeling this is all for me.”
The flame of passion erupted into Billy. He bit his lips, and his hand reached for his cock, stroking it through the pants. It brought some short-lived relief, but then it rose higher—like a wave which would drown him if he stopped. “S-so,” he hoped to move the topic to anything else, “you were serious ‘bout enjoyin’ the curse, partner?”
The enormous gulp traveled down Robin’s throat. “How does it look to you?” He polished away the last few bites and set the plate on a pile of empty ones. When did he have the time? Billy had come ten minutes after him! How fast was Robin gorgin’ himself?
“If the red Archer will be my chef, I might get a use out of him.” Robin moved onto a juiced steak with bewitchin’ aroma and dug straight in, lickin’ the splotches of grease that stained his lips. “It’s not a weak start, but I bet I can do better. There’s a lot more to eat, after all. Do you want to watch?”
If Billy had any sense left, he should have realized the so clear teasin’. But he could only think about Robin’s huge body, about his gut and ass and bottomless hunger. Squirmin’, he nodded.
“Then you can sit here.” Robin patted the space on the bench near himself. “It might be a little tight, but a small guy like you can fit.”
Small. As if in a trance, Billy walked and plopped down, squeezin’ his body as close as possible to Robin’s flab. His left side was sinkin’ in the lard, feelin’ the warmth which the oversize Archer radiated. Those temptin’ rolls bulged over the smaller man, spillin’ over his lithe frame. He was like a mouse next to the engorged mountain that was Robin. “When did ya began enjoyin’ it, partner? Didn’t ya say ya will be stayin’ fit ‘n’ trim?” His hand hadn’t stopped runnin’ over his cock; how the hell had Robin not noticed?
“No, I did not want to be a pig. I thought B.B. would make me a large pink animal, but it seems she hadn’t been literal. Besides”—Robin stopped his feast to grip his flexed biceps, stretchin’ his fingers to fit around it—“this is quite far from a fat pig. I would have ended this earlier, but I had fun playing with you.
“You… On purpose?” Billy couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Why else? Did you think someone missed the way you were staring at me?”
It was as if a bomb had exploded in Billy’s chest. He shoulda been ashamed, distraught that his dirty secret was out in the open. But instead, he felt bliss, utter and true bliss. Robin was on the same page. Robin was on the same page! “Then, partner… Can I?” He was tremblin’, barely able to speak.
“Do whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”
Billy jumped onto him, perchin’ himself atop the blobby gut. His face leaned forward, and he kissed Robin’s revealed moobs. He pressed his lips over the pecs. His face was enveloped in the soft chub, and his tongue caressed them from the perky nipples and up the curve, glidin’ over the muscle underneath.
He began grindin’ against Robin’s belly. The flab engulfed his cock. As Billy thrust into it, his dick not penetratin’ deep enough to fell the muscle, it shook around. Those jiggles made him throb with pleasure, arch his back, and squeeze—squeeze all he could.
Robin’s huge arms were the nearest. Billy’s hands slid over them, feelin’ the muscle ripple. The veins shifted with each movement and… Was Robin still stuffin’ himself?
The fat sphere pushed out, givin’ in less and less. Robin’s gut was growin’, fillin’ up with food, and he was bound to end even flabbier; even bigger—so impossibly enormous that Billy would be but a speck next to him. He’d be so tiny next to that solid wall of flab and flesh and beef!
Jizz soaked Billy’s underpants. The relief—the final relief—crashed over him like a wave and let out an unabashed moan in Robin’s chest. His warm, frantic pantin’ made the skin tingle.
And he rose his head, and his red, messy, wild smirk met a proud grin.
“For such a small guy, you’re pretty intense,” Robin said. He was breathing heavily, his belly pushing in and out. “Do you think you can handle a round number two?”
The blond, ruffled outlaw nodded, his body movin’ before his brain had a chance to react. “You betcha, partner!”
22 notes · View notes
youarejesting · 4 years
Text
Reaction 11: Pregnancy reveal before world tour
[Masterlist]
Hey everyone, let me know if you have any reactions you would like me to do. WARNING: One NSFW line from Taehyung
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Kim Seokjin
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“I’m pregnant,” you said simply after dinner, gauging his reaction he laughed and nodded. 
“Me too, it was way too much food but it was so good.” He grinned looking up “should I ask the chef to take responsibility?”
Your laughter was bubbly, you loved this man so much. “I mean it I am actually legitimately pregnant”
“Oh as in with a baby with me?”
“Yes love” you laughed
“You did say your boobs were hurting” he said a little too loudly in the restaurant making you blush, “we are going to have a baby”
“Yeah” you nodded
“I thought I was getting too old” he laughed 
“Never you are as youthful as the day we met”
“Oh that’s going to make tours difficult” he held your gaze “we will make it work, maybe my pregnant wife will come with me on tour. 
“Wife?” You snorted 
“Well I was going to ask tonight but your news sort of topped mine” he grinned and snatched your left hand slipping the ring onto your fourth finger.
“You can’t take me back now” you breathed and he kissed you with his soft plush lips. 
“I don’t plan to”
Min Yoongi
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“Yoongi, I have something to tell you?” You had just finished testing and then you had a shower. He was sitting in his studio typing away. 
“What is it, my love?” He moved his headphones to his neck. 
You walked up to the microphone and he opened a window and hit record. He loved keeping little special audios, he put his headphones back on and watched the computer. “I am pregnant with your baby,” you said softly. 
He tensed and you felt a sense of rejection, “I just thought you should know you don’t have to be there if you don’t want to. I won’t force you to stay”
He looked up at you noticing how your eyes were wet with tears, “hey baby no it’s okay” he saved and exited his work and held you in his arms. “You need to rest your body, you are making a human come on let’s go to bed”
“You are just tired.”
“Let me lay with my woman damn it” the two of you laid down and he saw you facing away from him and he moved closer spooning you. Placing his hand on your stomach and rubbing small circles. “I just released an album but I have so many songs in my head”
You fell asleep to him humming gently and eventually he pressed his palm flat to your stomach. 
Jung Hoseok
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“Hello love what are you doing?” Hoseok asked, jumping onto the couch beside you. “Baby, have you been crying?”
“Hobi, I am pregnant,” You said biting your lip ready for him to drop everything and leave. 
“Wah, with me?” He gasped and began pacing enthusiastically. “Really we made a little baby?”
You nodded and he clapped and spun around excitedly before scooping you up into his arms and grinning. “Baby, you aren’t joking, you are serious right, we are having a little baby?”
“Yes Hobi, I peed on a stick and everything” You handed him the now clean stick in a bag and he saw the two lines and began a series of noises and dance moves. 
“I have to tell the boys” He shouted before racing out the house leaving you stunned. You slumped back on the couch content, he was happy and that’s all the mattered. That the three of you were happy and healthy.
It wasn’t till later the boys dropped Hoseok off completely wasted, “he was excited saying you were pregnant” Namjoon smiled sitting Hoseok on the couch. “congratulations”
“Thank you”
“Jagiya, I love you and our baby” he whined clutching your waist and pressing his forehead to your upper abdomen “I missed you, you were gone so long” 
Kim Namjoon
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“We have the concert dates and then we are going to the billboard music awards and the after-party that evening so don’t drink too much”
“I won’t drink at all I am expecting?”
“Expecting what?”
“A baby” you sighed and he looked up, you watched the gears ticking over on his head and he dropped his phone he stumbled for words in English before resorting to korean and talking a mile a minute, it sounded like his rap songs and you said “I found out a week ago and I was waiting to tell you but I couldn’t wait”
He held your sides and began pulling up your shirt trying to look at your belly, you noticed his disappointed meant as he spoke between pouty lips “you don’t look pregnant yet”
“Honey I am only a few weeks, I won’t start to show for a little bit” you laughed brushing your thumbs against his cheeks letting them rest over his dimples that were peeking out. “I am actually scheduled to go for a sonogram today would you like to come with and see the baby”
Needless to say, he was already dressed and pushing you to the car. He was a mess of tears at the appointment and they let him listen to the heartbeat. 
You calmed him down with ice cream and then he dragged you into baby shops and began searching through clothes. 
Park Jimin
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“Hey my love, did you sneak ramen last night you’re looking a little swollen” he smiled
“No I didn’t eat ramen I am just super bloated” you whined rubbing your belly and cheeks. You turned your back to him embarrassed. 
“What is going on?” He chuckled turning you back to face him, “are you sore do you need the heat pack and some chocolate, we can watch a Disney movie your pick” 
He kissed you slowly massaging your lower back and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. “It’s not my period Jimin,” you said as he broke away to brush his lips against your skin and he continued to kiss your neck. “I think I am pregnant”
“Pregnant?” He pulled away and you flinched “what makes you think that other than our activities?”
“Well I am late so I bought these but I haven’t used them cause I am scared”
“My beautiful girl, do not be scared, I would never let you do this on your own, come on let’s take the test” he pushed you to the bathroom and you waited for the test to develop as he sang to you through the door.
Now promise me, oh, oh Several times a day, oh, oh Even if you feel that you are alone, oh, oh Don't throw yourself away, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh, hold on for a moment Intertwine our pinkies And promise me now, oh, oh, oh, oh
You saw the two lines and you opened the door, tears pouring down your face and he looked at the stick with two dark lines and embraced you. “You give me more reason to love you every day.” He breathed into your hair. “We are gonna be a little family”
Kim Taehyung
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“What is this?” Taehyung asked while holding up a pregnancy stick he found on the bathroom sink. How could you have been so forgetful? You set it down for it to develop and then got distracted. You hadn’t even read the results.
“It is a pregnancy test. I always take one before you leave on tour” You blushed rubbing the back of the neck “just so I can make sure to tell you anything before you leave, don’t want you coming back to such a big surprise. 
“How do you read it?” He said looking at it interested 
“There is a window on the stick, one line means not pregnant,” You whispered.
“What do two lines mean?” His eyes met yours curiously.
“Two lines mean I am pregnant,” the smile that pulled up his lips made you laugh. You must not be pregnant. He loved to tease you.
“You must have really loved what I gave you, keeping it all to yourself and making a baby” He smirked, turning the test towards you, two thick dark lines burning through your retinas.
“Oh no.” You said eyes prickling
“Oh no?” his eyebrow raised concerned
“You are about to go on tour tomorrow and I am pregnant”
“I will be home soon, I will take care of you and we will be okay, just the three of us”
Jeon Jungkook
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“Jungkook, do you have to leave?” You asked looking at your phone you were waiting to hear back from your blood tests. You watched him leave the apartment disappointed as your phone rang. 
“Miss y/n, this is the doctor Hyejin, I am calling to talk about the results of your blood test, you had. I want to say congratulations, you are pregnant. You are going to be a mother. Would you like to make an appointment.”
“Sure, whatever works, text me the date and time, I have to catch my boyfriend before he leaves” You hung up slipping on your shoes and racing to catch a taxi to the airport. You arrived and flashed your BigHit ID to the VIP sitting area, you were given the ID if ever there was an emergency where you needed to contact or see Jungkook.
“Jungkook” You shouted and he turned and wrapped you in a hug and you panted “I am pregnant!” 
“What?” His eyes went wide in shock and you couldn’t help but laugh at the expression, coughing from the toll it took racing through the airport.
“I got the call after you had left” You grinned “We are having a baby!”
“But…” He pouted and looked at you with sad eyes “I thought I was baby”
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fangirl-on-bitches · 4 years
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Bittersweet
Javier Peña x Female!Reader.
Word Count: 4k approximately.
Summary: You and Javier have a particular way of saying goodbye, so particular you get a surprise when you get back to the US.
Warning: a lot of cursing, a bit of pregnancy shenanigans, a lot of dialogue and a little messy plot and timelines lol.
A/N: Okay, listen before you continue. When I was younger I used to write, maybe not with the best grammar or the best plot, but sure as hell with a lot of creativity. Now I just can’t be that creative to write a complete fic or hc, so if you find this boring or a waste of time I’m really sorry. If you like this, I appreciate it as I really made an effort to finish it (a crapy ending anyways). I’ll be sincere, I had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head so I wrote it. I feel like the scenarios aren’t realistic to what could happen in real life (I feel like they are forced or way too dramatic) I really hope I don’t waste your time. (and yes, I chose the name in honor of Pedro’s role in triple frontier)
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You were cursed. Definitely.
You were back in the states, had been for a few weeks, enjoying the warmest sun Miami had to offer along with Connie. You loved relaxing by a peaceful beach after years of chasing after Escobar with your life on the line every hour of every day.
That day you were really excited to wake up and meet Connie to go to the beach, it had been so long since you saw her and little Olivia. You felt at the same time a little uncomfortable with your body that day, bloated and kind of heavy, like there was extra gravity, but the excitement overwhelmed whatever other feeling you might be having.
The beach had some people because it was a nice day, so you lounged along Connie and baby Olivia, eating fried fish with chips as it was beach food. You were laughing at something Connie said about Steve, something about being a pain in the ass, which you agreed with. It was all fun and games until you felt horrible nausea and a pushing need to vomit. Connie, being observant noticed immediately.
“What’s wrong?” before you could answer you ran to the restaurant’s bathroom, puking whatever food you had that day. Connie came close behind you. She gave you a paper towel so you could wipe your mouth.
“Okay, I might be sick.” you admitted flushing the toilet.
Of course, your mood just plummeted to the ground when you were sitting in a private room in the hospital. Connie couldn’t check you, but she was looking for her friend on-call, meanwhile, you looked as baby Liv (as you called Olivia) slept peacefully by your side.
You didn’t like hospitals. They reminded you of your time in Colombia, and although you weren’t shot, your compañeros might have been shot multiple times. There had been too many close calls and so many lives lost, you just got the creeps whenever you heard a gurney moving.
Soon, Connie came back and carried Olivia outside, leaving you with her friend. She presented herself, and asked routine questions. How are you feeling? What happened? Does something hurt? Is your period late? Did you fall and hit your head? Do you have any diseases? Or do you take any medication?
“I do have nausea and I threw up after eating.” She nodded as she took your blood pressure. Then you started thinking. You were thinking really hard.
Your period was late, you didn’t remember how late, but it was late. Two months ago, Steve and you caught Escobar. Steve went straight back home and you had to stay, to finish completing paperwork. Then Javier was back in Colombia to follow the Cali Cartel, but you were assigned back to Miami and couldn’t stay.
To be fair, you were glad to be back home, but you really missed Javier. When shit went down with Los Pepes you were pissed off at Javier. You knew he usually overstepped the line to get intel, but this time he had stepped so far off the line, he wouldn’t be able to see the line.
The night before he left you decided you would drink your consciousness off because you hated to even think that Javier Peña was living in Colombia; after a glass of a really strong Rum and Cola you decided against it and knocked on Javier’s door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, suggesting that he wasn’t up to listening to more of your nagging. Your head had a million thoughts racing, you wanted to tell him so many things varying from ‘you are an idiot’ to ‘why the fuck did you do this?’ but the only thing you articulate was something like ‘I don’t want you to go’
Javier’s face softened, although you cast down eyes couldn’t actually look at his face, he had stepped aside and invited you inside. “Do you want something to drink?” you shook your head, looking around the apartment. It was almost empty, but it has been pretty empty since the beginning. You sat on the floor, Javier following with a beer in his hand.
“Will you come back?” you asked him, but you already knew the answer.
“I don’t think so, it depends on the higher ups in the states” you nodded, looking at him. You were really going to miss him. “Look, it’s not like we won’t see each other anymore, when you guys catch Escobar-” you laughed humorlessly. How long would that be? Months, another year perhaps? 
Both of you stayed in silence for a while. “I should go.” you told him, standing up, he stood up as well.
“You shouldn’t go.” He told you, squeezing your shoulder tenderly, a familiar touch. You looked at his sweet dark brown eyes, a silly small smile playing on the corners of your lips.
“What do you mean? You have a plane to catch tomorrow.” you remind him, wondering if he was drunk, he clearly wasn’t. His hand, which was still on your shoulder, moved to cup your face. For a second, you were lost and didn’t understand what was happening, until you looked at his eyes again and understood. You didn’t wait for him to lean down, you just wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.
You would lie if you have never felt curious as to why every informant in Colombia gave Javier the intel he wanted. After that night you understood why. He was passionate, attentive and a really generous lover. You might have even believed him if he had blurted out an ‘I love you’.
The only reason why you let this happen was because Javier was supposed to stay in the US, officially he wasn’t your (or Steve’s) compañero anymore. And that was true, even when he came back.
“Okay, so your results are in. After you told me you’ve been missing your period for quite a while, I drew some blood to analyze it.”
“Yeah, it must be stress. You know, I worked in Colombia with Connie’s husband and moving back here plus all the work I have to do was really stressful. Also, I had a UTI back in Colombia, I wasn’t drinking enough water and I read that the strain might move my period a little.” you started rambling. For some reason, you felt jittery, almost anxious at the look on the Doctor’s face. She had a grin in her face, really big and excited.
“That may delay your period for two weeks, but it won't magically make it disappear, dear.” She read the results once more and nodded to herself. “As I suspected, you are pregnant.”
“W-w-what?” you mumbled. “But I didn’t pee on the stick.” clearly, your brain had short-circuited.
“I have some pregnancy tests if you wish to take them yourself, but the blood analysis is pretty accurate.” she offered with a nice smile. You nodded and took the box going to the bathroom, trying to focus on reading the instructions.
The stick said you were pregnant. And you knew exactly who was the father.
You sighed at the papers you were reading, the office already empty, way past dinner time. Since catching Escobar, hours were cut short, but to you they were really slow. Steve wasn’t there, he had left a few weeks ago, Javier obviously wasn’t there. It was just you, some files and occasionally some booze to help you relax before sleeping. Thankfully, you would be leaving shortly.
On your way back to the apartment complex you stopped by a grocery store. You needed ice cream, and lots of chocolate, and some chips. Probably some booze too. You had bought a flask of whisky that reminded you of Javier, although whisky might not be your first choice of booze.
That same flask almost fell to the ground when you saw goddam Javier Peña entering his apartment, a big suitcase by his side.
He also noticed you, the dark bags under your eyes and messy hair evidence of your hard work. 
“Oh my god” you whispered, unbelieving. You walked and hugged him, relieved to see him again. “You are back?” you stupidly asked.
“Yeah, they want my intel and help to track down the Cali Cartel.” he answered.
“Well, that’s weird.”
“What?”
“My orders are to finish paperwork and return to Miami. They didn’t tell me to stay to help.”
“Well, it’s a different operation this time, more discreet.” he tried to hint you that it wasn’t just DEA business anymore, it was more a CIA kind of work. You invited him to your apartment, that had two boxes of things you were going to give to charity, you didn’t need all this stuff back home, you already had them.
He explained his situation while you shared the flask of whisky and bid good night like the old times, no kisses or sex, or nothing like that. Which was fine.
Everything was fine for the next few days. Javier even helped you pack your stuff and sort it out. The night before returning home he offered to go to the bar you always went to with Steve and him on Friday’s or Saturday’s (sometimes even a Monday)
Both of you drank like you always had, but instead of bidding goodnight and going to bed separately, you both had sex. Again. It was probably a coping mechanism, the way both of you said goodbye to each other. Such a complicated method.
So, so complex that now you were pregnant.
With a child.
Javier's child.
It had to be his, you only had sex with him within the last 3 months. Since Colombia you hadn’t have sex.
This was bad. It was complicated. You didn’t plan for a child; working at the DEA (chasing after Escobar) left you almost no time to think about dating, much more less building a fucking family. 
Could you do this? Hell yeah, you are an awesome strong woman.
What you couldn’t do was tell Javier.
When you came out the private room, you were fidgeting with your hands, Connie came and took them. “I’m pregnant.” you blurted out. Connie looked at you shocked; then you noticed little baby Olivia wasn’t on her arms.
Steve, in all his blonde mustache glory stood with his daughter on his arms, looking as shocked as Connie. “What?” he asked.
“Who is the father?” Connie inquired.
“What are you doing here?” You asked Steve.
“I came to pick up my wife and daughter for dinner. Why don’t you come with us and tell us more about this?” You nodded out of inertia, but you looked at your hands while walking, Connie hooking her arm with one of yours.
As you sat on traffic, you tentatively touched your belly. It was... normal. No kicking, no large or really hard belly. It was like there was nothing there.
You would have declined dinner if you knew the questionnaire that would come from the Murphy’s. Well, questionnaire would be an exaggeration, but you didn’t really like the single question they were asking.
“Who’s the father?” 
“I- I can’t tell you.”
“Why? We don’t know him?” you sighed and reassigned. You knew they would ask forever.
“Please, please, please you have to promise me you won’t tell anybody. Both of you.” you looked pointedly at Steve. He nodded but held your gaze, trying to figure out what you were really trying to say. A second later he muttered something.
“Jesus fucking christ.”
“What?” Connie asked but soon realized. “Oh, no way. Javier?”
“It’s Javier.” you confirm their suspicions.
“Are you certain?” Connie asked.
“Of course.” you paused and then added. “You can’t tell him Steve.”
“What? Why?” he sounded slightly offended.
“I should tell him first. He should hear it from me.”
“I can’t believe this. The minute I come back home you two just pound at each other.”
“It wasn’t like that, and technically you were still in Colombia the first time.”
“The first time?” he asked with a chuckle, he looked very happy.
“The second time I was the one leaving!” you paused, moving the food around your plate. “How the fuck am I going to tell him? I can’t just call him and be like, ‘hey I’m pregnant and you are the father. How’s the Cali stuff going?’. This kind of news aren’t told over a call.”
“But it’s different, it’s not a normal situation. Javier could be in Colombia for years.” Steve reminded you.
“It wouldn’t make a difference. He can’t come back until his work is done.” You rolled your eyes, there was no good alternative.
“So you plan to just hide this from him?” Connie asked, her look full of pity, if it was for you or Javier, you didn't know.
“Only until I know he’s coming back. I’ll check on him every once in a while. I’ll need you to call him too, Steve. I don’t want him to suspect me.” He sighed but nodded nonetheless. You sighed as well, a million thoughts racing through your head.
You called Javier that same week. Of course, it was unexpected for him but really welcome. Colombia was not rainbows and sunshine. “So how’s the Cartel treating you?”
“It’s a fucking nightmare, but hopefully it won’t take long. I can't talk too much over the phone about this, who knows who might be listening.” he sighed, sounding really 
“Yeah, you are right.” for a minute, you thought about telling him. Then you decided. “Please take care and be careful.”
“Of course compañera.” he assured, you could practically hear the smirk in his lips. After ending the call, you pressed the heels of your palms in your eyes. How in the world were you going to tell him?
–––––– 
A month turned into two, and then five months flew by in the blink of an eye. Javier was not coming back for the time being and your belly was starting to pop. Your head was still working on how in the world were you going to tell Javier, which was the only problem you had right now. It wasn’t even a big problem, if Javier wanted an out of fatherhood he was free to go, but you had been so happy since day two (day one was a full shock) that you honestly didn’t care.
You were getting way too ahead of yourself. Maybe Javi wanted to be a father and he would be really happy with the little baby. But that wasn’t the Javier you knew, and that’s why you were so afraid to tell him. 
Today looked like the best day to tell him. You were going to probably get to know if the little baby was a girl or a boy. You were waiting patiently for him to pick up the call in the hospital public phone. After a while, he picked up.
“Hello?” his voice sounded gruff and stressed.
“Hi, compañero. How are you?” you asked, a hand on your belly.
“As fine as I can be here,” he answered. “What did you want?” he asked abruptly, almost tired of talking to you. It stinged a little.
“I just called to check in…” you lied, maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell him after all.
“I’m going to be as clear as I can. Don’t call me, unless you are fucking dying.” you felt a piercing pain in your throat, a tight knot forming, making it really difficult to talk.
“Fine.” you hissed and hanged the phone, tears slipping down your cheeks. Fucking hormones. Fucking Javier. 
Connie, who was waiting for you anxiously to come back, hugged you. “It’s okay sweetie, it’s okay.” you nodded and wiped your tears.
“I’m okay. I just need to focus on my baby and myself right now.” you told her and rubbed your belly.
“Of course honey.”
––––––– 
It had been a really smooth and sweet pregnancy, you were really happy with your 5th month old baby boy Francisco. He was really sweet, but he had so, so much of his father, the resemblance was uncanny. Deep brown sweet eyes, and a mop of soft brown hair.
Javier had not called you since that horrible last call. You knew he called Steve every once in a while, but you asked Steve please not to tell you anything about him. Both Murphy’s just assumed you had told Javier about the pregnancy and that he had not taken it well.
This was a lie. Javier had no idea you were pregnant, much more less with his child. But he was still in Colombia, so unless you told him he would not hear it from anyone. 
It hurted you deeply, not being able to tell your son who his father was. However, all around your house there were pictures of Steve, Javi and yourself from Colombia. Connie and Olivia were there too, even Carillo. 
Anyways, the baby was too young to notice the absence of his father. Maybe by the time Francisco starts wondering about daddy, Javier would be around the USA to talk.
Your son cooed and asked to be held up, it was time for his nap. Just in time, you thought, Steve was coming over to pick him up as you were going to meet your best friend in an hour or so. Your baby boy soon fell asleep, you held him in against your chest, rocking him gently.
Then the doorbell rang.
“Steve, you are early. Fran just fell asleep.” you told Steve. But it wasn’t Steve. Javier fucking Peña stood in the door way, his eyes looking at your son. You frowned and tried to hide Francisco’s face sneakily from him. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too, compañera.” he said, but his mind was not entirely focused on whatever he was saying. His mind was in the baby, and about how quickly you had moved on.
“Don’t compañera me.” you hissed, in a hushed tone, the baby in your arms sleeping soundly. “Come in.” you told him, as you turned around to leave your baby on his cradle. 
Javier looked around, looking for any sign of the baby’s father. But he only found pictures of you, Steve, Connie, baby Olivia and other people he knew. Then he started thinking, what if the baby was his child?
No, that’s not possible. 
“So?” you asked, really anxious. You had no idea he would be here. You were not prepared for this. But really, would you ever be prepared?
“I came to apologize.” Javier simply said, his hands on his hips.
“Took you a little long.” you said, rubbing your hands together. “If you apologized sooner I could have…”
“Could have what?” you exhaled and sighed, trying not to cry. 
“You are not supposed to be here.” you whisper, your voice cracking softly as you sit on your sofa. Javier sat by your side and you felt the weight of your decisions constrict your chest, making it harder to breath.
You were a horrible, horrible person. How could you deny him knowing he was a father? That he had a child? It didn’t matter how angry you felt, or how much of an asshole he had been. The baby was made by both of you. He had the right to know.
“I’m sorry.” he was not sure why, but he really was sorry. You shook your head, and started to tell him that you were sorry, repeating like a prayer. “Hey, hey” he tried to calm you down, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “Breath, baby. Breath.” you complied, breathing deeply. After a minute of silence you took his rough big hand and held it, squeezing it slightly.
“Javier, I got news for you.” you started, and felt his hand tense. “The baby boy, Francisco, he’s your son, our son.” He looked at you, his eyes wide, looking like a deer in the headlights. “That time I called you, I was pregnant, and I wanted to tell you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me after?”
“You told me not to call you unless I was fucking dying.” you exhaled and stood up. “Look you don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to, I had Francisco because I wanted to, but I didn't expect anything from you.”
“Not getting involved? What are you talking about?” he asked offended.
“I’m sorry, and I mean no offense, but you don't strike as the kind of guy who would want a family, or children.”
“And what the fuck do you know?” he raised his voice a little, making you cringe a little.
“I’m sorry, and I can’t do anything to return back time.” you told him sincerely. A loud whine was heard from your room, where the crib was. You sighed and went to your room, to calm Francisco down. Unbeknownst to you, Javier followed you looking how you delicately held him and rocked him. The baby’s eyes were still closed, he was just a little disturbed.
You looked at the door frame, Javier stood there, looking at the child. You walked to him, your intentions clear. “Do you want to hold him?” you asked your voice soft and soothing. Javier gulped, feeling suddenly nervous, he didn’t know how to hold a baby, what if he dropped him? “Don’t worry, I’ll help.” you offered, a kind smile in your face.
Javier extended his arms and you walked closer, softly passing your son to Javier’s big arms. Francisco whined a little and Javier’s face cringed, making you smile. “Hold him against you,” you helped, gently pushing his arms, closer to his chest. Francisco was fast asleep again. Javier just looked at him, marveled. You guide him to the sofa, making him sit there with your son. “I’ll be right back.” you tell him, and at the panicked face he made, you had to quiet your laugh. “You’ll be fine.”
You called your best friend, telling her you wouldn’t be able to meet her. When you stepped back on the living room, someone knocked on the door, it must be Steve. You opened the door and gestured to him to be quiet, pointing at the couch, were Javi sat (finally) relaxed.
Steve did not enter the house as you promised to call later. You returned to the living room and sat beside them, contemplating how peaceful they looked. Javier had moved your son, laying him against his broad chest. You caressed the baby’s hair, looking at him with doe eyes.
“Want to stay for dinner?” you asked standing up. Javier nodded and then lay his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. You smiled and entered your bedroom to change your clothes into something more comfortable.
You had nothing figured out, but you were happy knowing your son had a loving father to grow up with. You’ll figure your relationship out (if there was going to be one).
After some minutes, you heard some gurgles coming from the living room. Javi fell asleep, and Francisco was wide awake, looking at his father curiously, moving his little hands. You took the baby from him, kissing his chubby face. “Your daddy is sleeping, baby. C’mon, let’s give you some mashed banana.” you told him, caressing Javier’s hair back.
You spent some long 20 minutes feeding and nursing your baby boy while you also checked dinner. Javier, still fast asleep on the couch, woke up with a start, touching his chest, as if missing something. “Where’s the baby?” he asked, looking around.
“He’s here, Javier.” you told him from the kitchen, a silly smile on your face. Javier sat by the table, feeling self conscious at the baby’s gaze over him. His son’s arms moved up and down, talking unintelligible gibberish. “He likes you.” you commented, cleaning his chubby face. Javier held his hand out and Francisco took one of his fingers, squeezing with his baby strength. Javi’s heart skipped a beat.
Eating together was really weird, but at the same time it felt right. You noticed Javier’s tired face and wondered if he came straight from the airport. So you asked, sparking some conversation. You talked about what finally happened with the Cali Cartel.
“You got a place to stay?” you asked, but you knew the answer. “You can stay here if you want. Hotel’s are really expensive right now.”
“You sure?” you nodded. You forgot how well you clicked with Javier, it was a nice reminder.
He helped you with the dishes, and then went to shower, getting his suitcase for clean clothes. You prepared Francisco for bed, giving him his formula bottle after changing his diapers.
You saw Javier getting out of the bathroom, and thankfully had the decency to wear full pajamas, you would have fainted at the view of his bare chest.
“So, I’ll go to the couch, do you have a blanket?”
“What are you talking about?” you asked. “I was going to tell you to sleep in the bed with me. We already shared a bed before, so I don’t see a problem. Plus, I could use the help if Francisco wakes up.” you commented with a cocky smirk. You usually wore just a t-shirt to bed, but today you had to use full pajamas, like Javi did.
“Okay.” Javier said, not really convinced. Francisco was asleep already, his father caressed his little hand with his finger. You were already under the covers, ready to hit the bed, Javier looked tired too.
He laid down, under the covers as well, looking at the ceiling. He moved looking at you, you were both face to face, generous space between both of you. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, and took his hands on yours.
“Sleep Javi, you look tired.” you kissed the back of his hands and closed your eyes, sleep getting the best of you. Javi smiled, his face soft, getting a little closer, leaving his hand on yours, then he shut his eyes. He had never felt more at home. 
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Text
Painted Windows 10
Warnings: violence, trauma, allusions to abuse and noncon, isolation, torture, further tags to be added.
This is dark!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Everything’s perfect until it’s not.
Note: Heads up that I don’t know how updates will continue on. I’ll be working on other non fanfic work as well as a medieval!Steve fic at the same time as this. Also the world is wild right now and I don’t know exactly what’s gonna happen in the next week or so. Thank you. Love you guys!
Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
Masterlist
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Bucky spent six days with you. You tracked them as diligently as those alone. You woke together and fell asleep together. It was a stark contrast against the near two weeks in your solitary gloom. You basked in it. You welcomed his attention, his stolen kisses, for dread of what would happen otherwise.
On the seventh day; whole week, you woke up alone. You sat up in a panic but his voice soothed you. He stood at the window, his broad back lined with muscles and tense as he dragged a finger down the glass. You let out a quiet sigh and laid back as you drew the covers over your shoulders.
“Tomorrow…” He said glumly. “No, I know… but you can’t-- No, no. Fine. Yeah.” He bent his fingers and pressed his knuckles to the window. “Alright. Bye.”
He hung up. He was angry; you could tell by his tone, by his stance. You didn’t move as you hoped he wouldn’t notice you, but his eyes were on you in a moment. He placed his phone on the window ledge and forced a smile. He crossed to the bed.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I just had to deal with some business.” He lifted the edge of the blankets and crawled in next to you. He hugged you to him as he nestled against the pillows. “Morning, sugar.” He kissed you and nuzzled your cheek.
“Morning,” You croaked as you succumbed to him. 
He clung to you for a while. Silent. He was content to embrace you as his chest moved against you. You closed your eyes, tempted to fall back asleep. You thought he had until his voice broke the lull.
“Sorry, sugar,” He withdrew his metal arm and rolled flat on his back. His other arm remained beneath you. “I got bad news.”
“Bad news?” You propped yourself up on an elbow. 
“I have to go for a while,” He said. An icy dagger sank into your chest. “Just a few days.”
“Go?” You gasped. “Bucky, please…”
“You know I have to,” He reached over and stroked your cheek. “You rid this world of one evil and another rises.”
“But- but--”
“You have the phone,” He said. “You have all you need to keep you well. You’re safe.”
“No, no,” You sat up. “No, I can’t be alone… you don’t understand. If I’m alone, I’ll…” 
You clamped your lips together and spun away from him. You scurried across the bed before he could catch you. You heard him though, behind you. You raced into the bathroom. You slammed the door and pressed your body to the other side. He thumped into it but made no effort to open it, though he could have easily.
“Sugar,” He pleaded. “You know I can’t stay here all the time. I can’t keep you here if I have no money.”
You frowned. He was right but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to be alone again. The thought already had the darkness creeping over you. You turned and leaned on the door. You stared at the tub. You thought of how you had kept yourself beneath the water. What would he do if he came back and you were blue and bloated?
“Can’t they send someone else?” You asked.
“It’s my job, sugar,” He said gently. “I don’t want to go any more than you want me to but don’t you know why I have to?”
“No,” You grumbled.
“Because of you,” He answered. “Because I know it will keep you safe and happy here. With me.”
“Can’t I…” You paused and knew it was a hopeless question. You asked it anyway. “Go with you?”
Another silence. You heard him sigh and his fingers tapped on the door. “You know you can’t.” He uttered.
“I know,” You accepted, “I know but… I don’t know if I can be alone again.”
“You call me when you wake up and I’ll call you before you sleep,” He coaxed. “I’ll make sure you’re okay, sugar. You won’t be alone, I promise, not really.”
“I will,” You insisted. 
“Sugar…” His voice deepened and the door jolted. 
You stumbled as he pushed through. You turned to face him as you caught yourself on the sink. His metal hand was in a fist and his jaw ticked as he blocked the doorway with his body.
“You’re being a child,” He snarled.
The change was so sudden it was like a slap across the face. This man who held you not moments before had become a snorting bull. His eyes were almost black as they bore into you and his features were tinged with irritation.
“Bucky,” You stepped away from the sink, “Bucky, I’m just scared.”
“You’re stubborn.” He crossed his arms. “And ungrateful.”
“No, no, never,” You clasped your hands together and neared him cautiously. “I could never--”
“You think I want to leave you?” He challenged. “You think I want to go out and kill just to put food on the table?”
“Bucky,” You fought to keep your voice from quavering. “I… I’m sorry, I’ll be good.”
“All I do, I do for you,” He snapped. “And you still treat me like a villain.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” You reached out and touched his arm. “I really didn’t. I… I overreacted. I--”
He moved so quickly you yelped. He grabbed you and pushed you back until you were against the sink. His hands squeezed your arms painfully as if he wanted to shake you. You gripped the porcelain and quivered as you looked up at him. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe.
“You don’t know how good I’ve been to you,” He snarled. “I could be bad.” His metal hand slipped from your arm and stretched over your throat. “You don’t know…”
“No, you’re not bad,” You pleaded as you touched his metal arm. “You aren’t. I know that. Please… I’m sorry. I didn’t--”
His lips crashed into yours as his fingers tightened on your throat. His tongue invaded your mouth and his other hand fell from your arm. He snaked his other hand around you and kneaded your ass roughly. You pushed against his chest as he devoured you and crushed you painfully against the sink.
He hoisted you up onto the edge of the sink. His hand slid around to your thigh and he forced your legs apart as he stepped between them. He pinched you sharply and pressed his fingers to the crotch of your panties. You whimpered and tried to rip his hand away.
You could hear the chaotic beating of your heart. You could hardly gulp enough air past his grasp and his lips. Your eyes burned with tears and you bit down on his tongue. He tore away from you and you kicked out at him as he touched his lips.
You hopped down from the sink and nearly fell to your knees. He spat blood onto the tile as you hurried for the door. He caught the back of your nightgown and you grabbed the doorknob desperately. 
He grunted and shoved you against the door instead and quickly pinned you there with his body. You sobbed and he gripped the edge of the door as he trapped you there. He took slow, measured breaths and shuddered. You felt him nuzzle your head as he leaned into you.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered. His anger swept away as quickly as it came. “I’m sorry, sugar.” His hand brushed along your hip and his erection poked you through his briefs. “I’m just… scared too.” He kissed the top of your head. “Very scared.”
“It’s…” You trembled between him and the door. You braced yourself for more but he remained as he was. “It’s okay. I know… I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I didn’t,” He uttered into your hair as he slowly pushed himself away from you. “I didn’t. Sugar, I’d never hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Y-yes,” You stuttered; lying to yourself as much as him. “Yes, I know you wouldn’t. I know, Bucky.”
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Even after your argument, you were sad to see Bucky go. He left early and you watched through the window. He glanced up as he closed the trunk and waved though he could not see you. He knew you were there. Where else would you be? What else did you have?
He drove away and you went back to bed. You didn’t sleep, just laid there. You thought about him lying there beside you. You ignored the tug at the corner of your mind; the way his eyes would change, his voice too, the feel of his hand on your throat. You lingered there until just before noon. The sun was brighter than usual, or perhaps your world was darker.
You were roused by a peculiar noise. You sat up as the door handle clicked and you clutched the blanket as the door slowly opened just an inch. A knock came and a familiar but unexpected voice came from the other side.
“Dora?” Steve kept himself hidden behind the door. “Is it okay if I come in?”
You gaped at the door. You hoped Bucky had found some excuse to get away and returned to you. You never expected to see Steve again, let alone that day. Yet, you were happy to hear his voice. You glanced down at your pajamas and threw away the blankets.
“Just a minute,” You called back as you got up and rushed to grab your robe and pull it on. “Okay.”
You stood with your hands clasped together as Steve inched the door further inward. He entered cautiously and closed the door softly behind him. He had a box under his arm as he smiled over at you.
“I didn’t disturb you, did I?” He asked.
“What are you doing here?” You didn’t answer him.
“Well, I promised Bucky I’d check in on you.” He said as if it should have been obvious. “And I… well, I got you something and I just couldn’t wait.”
“What?” You tilted your head. “You got me something?”
“Nothing special,” He shifted the box from under his arm and held it out to you. 
You blinked and took it from him. It was an origami kit, complete with patterned paper and an instruction book. You gazed down at it and smiled. Your cheeks hurt from the unusual gesture. You peered up at him and hugged the box.
“You really got this for me?” You asked.
“Yeah, I saw it and thought of you so I… grabbed it,” He chuckled nervously. “Anyway, Bucky just asked me to dip my head in and make sure you weren’t too lonely.”
“Oh, you’re not staying?” You wondered.
“I can, for a bit,” He offered. “But I don’t wanna intrude or anything.”
“No, not at all,” You could barely withhold your joy, or explain it. “Do you want a tea or coffee?”
He seemed surprised by the question. He gave a small chuckle and tucked his hands in his pocket. “Not much for coffee. I’ll just have some water.”
“Okay,” You placed the box in the middle of the table. 
You filled a glass as he unzipped his jacket and hung it over a chair. He sat and you set the water before him. He smiled and thanked you. Suddenly restless, you made yourself sit.
“Do you… I dunno,” You ran your fingers along the edge of the box. “Do you wanna make some?”
“Sure,” He said. “I forgot my frog last time.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry, I…”
“I can make another one,” He assured you. “A better one… I’ve been practising.”
You laughed under your breath, afraid he might hear you. The idea of him folding little frogs on his own was almost comical to you. You wiggled the lid off and started to unpack the contents of the box.
“Dora,” He ventured, as if afraid to spook you. “How have you been?”
“Good,” Your voice squeaked and you scrunched your lips in embarrassment. “Good. I’ve been… here.”
“Oh… and do you like it here?”
“Like it here?” You wondered. “Of course, why wouldn’t I? I have everything I need here and…” You frowned and looked through the booklet. You peeked up at him again. “Why are you asking?”
“Just wondering how you are, Dor,” He said smoothly. “That’s what friends do.”
“Friends?” You repeated.
“Well…” He shrugged. “Hoped we could be.”
You nodded and looked through the rainbow of paper. You took a sheet and handed the stack to him. 
“I don’t have any friends,” You said quietly.
“Well, what about Bucky?” He asked.
“Yeah, uh, Bucky, of course but…” You were shaking. The paper was too. You slapped it down and spread your hands over it. “We can be friends, too.”
“Good.” He smiled again. “You know, I don’t have too many myself.”
You looked down and folded the paper down the middle. You distracted yourself with the straight lines; corner to corner and back to back. Bucky could be nice but Steve was nice. You glanced up at him as he took the booklet and flipped through to the frog pattern. You mulled over the word ‘friend’. You supposed it had many different meanings.
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heyyyharry · 4 years
Text
Chapter 11: Our Place
(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)
…in which they learn something about trust.
Warning: SMUT.
Word count: 5.9k
AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).
Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)
I got food poisoning yesterday and it was like waking up from a comma because I thought today was Tuesday. I’ve got only two days to write the next TCTM chapter. Fuck. Me.
Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think :)
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Laura was asleep when Y/N came. The nurse attending her said that she’d woken up for a few minutes before drifting off again, so Y/N would have to come back tomorrow if she wanted to speak to Laura. At least now she knew Laura was safe. It was getting late and she had already texted Laura’s assistant; her job here was done. She’d better go home and get some rest.
But the thing was, she didn’t really want to go home. The thought of facing Blake – who must have been waiting for her to come back so they could talk – instantly put her off. Thank God she’d never given him her number.
As soon as she exited the hospital, she fished out her phone to call the only person she wanted to see right now. Before she could even unlock the screen, however, she spotted him standing right by his car. Maybe telepathic communication was real.
His face lit up the second he saw her. He waved, and her tight muscles eased with relief as she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and ambled toward him. He pushed away from his car, met her halfway and eagerly wrapped her in his arms. She melted instantly into his protective hug, blinking back her tears. Fuck. It’d been a really shitty day.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” she mumbled as he pressed his lips to her forehead. She’d texted him an hour ago that she’d been writing and needed to be alone in order to focus. Though she’d hoped he wouldn’t come over to check on her, she was glad he’d shown up here.
“Laura’s assistant called me because she couldn’t reach you,” he said, his face taut with concern. “Have you spoken to her?”
Y/N nodded, watching his brows pulled together.
“I’m sorry about what happened with Laura,” he ventured. “How is she?”
“She was asleep when I left…”
“Did you know she was a heavy drinker?”
“No,” she murmured. “I just came over to ask her why she’d cancelled the meeting with the publisher, and I found her unconscious out on the floor.”
Half of the truth was all she could afford to tell him; he’d be so upset to find out about what Blake had done. Besides, tomorrow he’d have to hear the truth about his father and Gemma and Isaac, so she couldn’t unload her burden on him now.
Suddenly, she wondered if Gemma and Isaac had already left. What if Harry had run into them before Y/N had come out? Judging from how calm he seemed, Y/N guessed he hadn’t.
“Come on,” he spoke, rubbing her arms to warm her up. “I’ll take you home.”
“Wait.” She tugged at his sleeve, feeling a bit shy. “Can I...can I stay at your place tonight?”
He blinked at her, his lips slightly parted, then he smiled. “My place is yours, kid. You don’t have to ask.”
He kissed her on the cheek and opened the door on the passenger side for her. She got in. Her eyes stayed fixed on him when he got behind the wheel and buckled his seatbelt. As he started the car, she started to replay those four words inside her head.
My place is yours.
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At his place, she took a shower while he prepared dinner for the two of them. She felt a sense of guilt and misplaced anger for the things she wasn’t allowed to tell him. He was happy tonight, well, not exactly happy, but he wasn’t in a bad mood, and completely unaware of all the terrible things Winton and Emilia had been doing to him since the beginning. They didn’t deserve him. But who was she to criticize? She hadn’t been honest, either. She’d doubted him today, and for a moment believed he had something to do with Laura when it’d turned out to be Blake.
Blake. God. She felt like such a wimp for not being able to face him after their fight. Why did she have to feel sorry when it was him who was in the wrong?
“Dinner is ready!” Harry’s announcement pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned off the water and poked her head out of the shower to see his silhouette idling outside the bathroom door.
“Why don’t you come in?” she asked, biting back a grin when she imagined him smirking.
“I wouldn’t be able to help myself and dinner would get cold,” he reasoned.
“I don’t mind cold dinner as long as we’ve got hot sex.”
Her answer made him laugh. She swore to God that sexy low laugh of his made her knees go weak every fucking time. “Just get dressed, please,” he said. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
“All right.” She rolled her eyes and wrapped a towel around her torso. His silhouette disappeared from the door.
After having blow-dried her hair, she put on a dark blue silk bathrobe with his initials on the back (she’d always joked about how vain of him to have his initials embroidered on his robes) and made her way downstairs. The house was dark, but she didn’t wonder why; Harry rarely turned on the lights when he was alone. Sometimes he was lazy, sometimes he did it on purpose to enjoy the comforting darkness. She’d found it weird at first but she was used to it now.
Padding down the hallway to the dining room, she came into the soft warm orange light coming through the door gaps. Curious and anticipative, she pawed the door open and was met with a candlelit room, dinner for two made by Harry, who was still dressed in the same clothes he’d worn earlier – a black t-shirt tucked into high-waisted black trousers. He looked handsome and put-together as always; meanwhile, she looked like she was here for the spa. She didn’t mind, and neither did he.
He set down the champagne bottle to put his arms around her and kiss her on the lips, cheek and forehead. “Hmm, you smell good,” he growled into her ear, which made her giggle as she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away.
“What’s all this?” she asked, scanning her eyes around the room.
He gave a shrug. “Just wanna do something nice for my girlfriend.”
“You didn’t have to–”
“Just sit down, will you?” He pulled a chair and nodded his head toward it, so she rolled her eyes and sat down with her hands on her lap.
“I hope you like spaghetti,” he said, taking the seat across from her. She looked down at the plate of meatballs and spaghetti. It was the only thing he knew how to cook.
“Believe it or,” she said as he poured champagne into their glasses. “This is actually the first decent meal I’ve had this week. I’ve been living off on instant noodles and protein bars. No joke.”
He sat frozen in his seat, horror overtaking his face. “That’s not good, Bambi. You have to eat well. If we lived together, I would feed you three proper meals a day.”
She took a sip from her glass and rested her chin on her knuckles. “I love you, baby. But I don’t think I can eat spaghetti three times a day every day.”
“I might even take a cooking class for you. No joke,” he stated and clinked his glass with hers. Her heart fluttered as she knew he meant it.
“Stop being so goddamn perfect or I might drop down on my knee and propose to you right away.” She reached across the table to squeeze his hand and stroked the ring she’d given him. “Or maybe I already did.”
“This ring doesn’t count,” he objected, acting upset. “I’m not that kind of guy, Bambi. You’re gonna have to buy me a real ring if you’re gonna propose.”
“You know what? I’ve changed my mind.” She raised both hands, shaking her head. “I don’t want to marry you anymore.”
A few jokes later, silence somehow found its way back in, but they weren’t bothered by it. The food was still untouched as they continued eyeing each other. Y/N’s heart bloated at the way he looked at her, with so much adoration and bliss, as if she meant everything to him. Well, that was because she did. She knew she did; he’d said it too many times before.
She decided to shake off all the bad things that had happened tonight as she stood and walked around the table toward him. He didn’t break eye contact with her as she settled onto his lap, straddling his waist, arms around his neck. He plucked at the neckline of her robe playfully to peer down the valley of her breasts. The way he arched an eyebrow made her giggle.
She picked up the champagne bottle, drank directly from it then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and pushed her lips against his. A groan rumbled across his chest as he fisted her hair to let her know he’d been waiting for this all night. He took the bottle from her hand, put it back on the table and cupped her face, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Before she knew it, her robe was on the floor and she was riding him. She was completely naked while he was still clothed, his trousers shoved past his bum, his massive hands guiding her hips to match the rhythm of his thrusts. They hadn’t fucked in only a day but it’d felt so long, and she was shamelessly horny. Maybe it was the romantic atmosphere. Maybe she was feeling vulnerable tonight. Maybe she just really loved him. Maybe it was all at once. For whatever reason, she needed this. They went as hard as they could until they came at the same time, shouting and shaking with the ecstasy of their release.
It took Y/N a whole minute to pull herself out of the euphoric daze when his dick grew soft and slipped out, leaving a visible dripping mess on his black trousers and the hem of his shirt. He chuckled breathlessly at the sight, his cheeks flushed, and she felt her core throb again.
“That probably won’t come out,” she cheekily commented. Before he could respond, she reached between them and dipped a finger into her pussy while he watched with his lips parted and his eyes dark. She withdrew the finger slowly, now coated with his and her juices, and slipped it into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked and moaned his name. Harry let out a desperate “ahh” as he tossed his head back and threw an arm over his eyes. Seeing his reaction, she had to break character and dissolve into laughter.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said, brushing her cheek with his thumb.
“I feel the same way,” she replied and kissed him again. “I think dinner would have to wait.”
They didn’t have enough energy for another round so Harry proposed a warm bath. Y/N joked about how this wouldn’t be possible if they were at her place, because she was too poor and stingy to take a bath after a shower.
“You’re spoiling me,” she told him while sitting between his legs in the bathtub, her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder.
“I love spoiling you,” he whispered into her ear as she relaxed her body under the warm water and closed her eyes, allowing his hands to freely roam across her chest and fondle her breasts.
“I love you spoiling me,” she said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. You’re my whole world.” He kissed her cheek. Even though he’d been touching her everywhere since they got into this position, it was those words that pulled the trigger. Lips parted, she sat up slightly to sneak her hand between them and grab his cock, causing him to gasp. He was so hard as she started stroking him slowly, but he took her wrist and pulled her hand away.
“Bambi, I can’t again.”
She could tell he didn’t mean it. “Why not?”
“We cannot keep delaying dinner. You need to eat my spaghetti.” He flashed a smile when she tilted her head, pouting at him. “We’re only gonna stay here for five more minutes, okay?”
“Fine.” She blew out her cheeks and turned her head straight. “Will you still spoil me even when I’m old?”
“Of course,” he replied, too familiar with her random questions to wonder why she’d asked.
“What about...when we have babies? You’re gonna spoil the babies.”
Though she wasn’t looking, she could sense the startlement from his short pause. He hugged her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. “You only mention the possibility of us getting married and having kids when you’re jealous of our future kids.”
She chuckled at the remark. “I’m terrible, aren’t I?”
He shook his head and kissed her cheek once more. “No, not even close.”
Y/N had no idea what had gotten into her. She suddenly felt a weird sensation in the pit of her stomach which quickly spread all over her body. She tried to blink back the tears, but this time it was no use.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
His question was what caused them to spill.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” she sobbed into her palm, and now that she’d started crying she couldn’t stop.
Terrified, he peered over her shoulder to look at her face, his voice brittle. “W-What is it, baby? Why...why are you crying?”
She whimpered and lifted her hands from under the water to wipe her cheeks, only to get them wetter. Harry waited patiently, his chest heaving against her back. She knew he wouldn’t pressure her into giving him an answer; he just needed to know if she was okay, or if he’d done something wrong that had made her cry. Whenever she was sad, his first guess would always be whether he’d made a mistake. He’d made several mistakes in the past, so he always tried to be careful. She loved that about him.
Steadying her breathing, she pulled herself together and rotated to sit face to face with him. He looked into her eyes, his jaw set. She could sense his anxiety as he seemed to be piecing together all the events tonight that led up to this moment to figure out what had gone wrong. She had to tell him the truth.
And so she did. She told him about her finding out about Blake and Laura, about her confronting Blake, about Blake telling her he still loved her and her turning him down, about her rushing to Laura’s flat to find the poor woman half-alive on the floor, about taking Laura to the hospital – she stopped there and skipped to her meeting him outside, because she’d promised to leave the rest for Isaac and Gemma to tell him. Of course, she’d also confessed that she’d thought he’d had something to do with Laura, which was the main reason she’d cried. She hadn’t trusted him as much as she’d wanted to.
Once she finished, he released a long exhalation, which was his way of saying ‘wow, that was a lot’. He placed his elbow on the rim of the tub and propped his head on his hand, staring distantly right through her. Her bottom lip quivered as she squeezed his other hand and brought it to her chest, lacing their fingers together.
“I’m very sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you and I’m sorry I thought it was you. If you’re mad at me, I completely understand.”
“No, kid.” He rubbed his hand over his face and shoved it into his damp curls. “It’s just...a lot to take in.”
“So you forgive me?” she cautioned.
“I wasn’t mad at you in the first place,” he laughed, probably to calm her nerves. “I can’t blame you for thinking I had something to do with it, since I’d always go out of my way to make sure you’re happy. But I promised you I wouldn’t interfere with your career anymore.”
She nodded, her brows drawn together.
“Hey, kid, it’s all right,” he said, taking her arms. “Come here.”
She got on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck. “I mean,” he began, “I’m angry, but not at you. I just want to kick that kid’s arse.” She laughed between sniffles. “But of course, it’s up to you.”
“I’ll deal with him,” she said.
He cocked his head to the side to study her face. “You’ll kick his arse?”
She snorted at how hopeful he seemed. “Depends on how I feel tomorrow.”
“What about Laura?”
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow, too.”
“Okay,” was all he said before changing the subject back to spaghetti.
After dinner, Y/N stayed to clean up while Harry took their laundry to the laundry room. He’d left his phone on the counter and it kept buzzing with new texts every few seconds; those were probably from Jeff or the other people Harry worked with. He was a busy man, the kind of busy Y/N had never seen in anyone else. When they were together, he would put his phone on Do Not Disturb, but he never did when he was alone. He’d probably forgotten tonight.
She was just about to it up to silence the notifications when his phone buzzed in her hand and another text popped up.
Gemma: We’re so sorry. Please call me back as soon as you’re ready to talk.
A chill rushed down her spine and she hurriedly put down the phone and stumbled back. What did it mean? Had Gemma and Isaac already spoken to him? So he knew all this time? What hadn’t he said anything?
“Bambi, would you like this shirt or this shirt?”
Her head snapped to the side when she heard his voice from the doorway. He was holding up two of his shirts which he knew she loved to wear. She parted her lips but no word got out, and it was just enough for him to realize something was off. He squinted his eyes, confused, then the buzzing of his phone seized his attention. He stole another glance at her before marching over to the counter and peering down at the text.
“You know the truth?” she asked.
He slowly turned, put the shirts on the counter and leaned back against it, crossing his arms. The previous cheerfulness was nowhere to be found on his face as his forehead creased and his lips formed a hard line. “I ran into Isaac and Gemma outside the hospital,” he conceded, staring at his feet. “I know about Winton and Emilia, too.”
She folded her arms across her chest and began to consider him. Realization sank in, and it occurred to her that his chill attitude tonight had only been an act.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she questioned in hushed tones as if she didn’t want him to hear it. But he did, and his eyes found hers again.
“You’d had a rough day. I didn’t want to drag you into this.” He raked his fingers through his hair and huffed. “They told me you already knew…”
Y/N had specifically told Isaac and Gemma not to tell Harry until tomorrow, but she supposed they hadn’t got a choice when they’d run into him. If they had acted like nothing had been wrong and told him tomorrow that something had been wrong, then it would only get worse.
“How are you feeling?” she inquired after a long pause.
He lifted his shoulders, looking surprisingly impassive. “I wasn’t as shocked as I thought I’d be. I guess...I always had a feeling that they had something to hide. All four of them.” He meant Isaac, Gemma, Winton, and Emilia. “I don’t really know how to feel about Isaac and Gemma. Maybe I’m mad at them because they hid it from me, but I understand why they did it. I just needed some time to...be okay with it...I guess? Winton and Emilia, however...”
It was the first time she’d heard him call his dad Winton. Her heart cracked. She couldn’t imagine what it must be for him. How had he reacted when he’d heard the news? Had he been in denial? Or had he believed it right away? Had he cried? God, she didn’t want to think about him crying. She couldn’t stand it.
Closing the distance between them, she circled her arms around his waist and he accepted her embrace as an instinct.
“I’m so sorry. People could be cruel,” she said into his shirt.
He kissed the top of her head and rested his chin on it, holding her tighter. “I don’t regret helping them. I just regret believing he’d loved me and Gem, even just a little bit.” Then he took her shoulders and pushed her away, his lips quirked into a reassuring smile. “Let’s not talk about this tonight,” he said. “I only want to focus on you.”
She gave a firm nod, grabbed his face and brought his lips down upon hers. If her kisses could make him forget about everything else, she would never stop kissing him.
Later that night, they made love again in his bed and fell asleep. It was early in the morning when she woke and found herself alone. She thought he’d gone to get some water, but as she lay and stared into the darkness, waiting and waiting, and he didn’t come back, she began to think something had gone wrong. And so she pushed herself out of bed, put on his t-shirt and padded down the hall to his library, where she assumed he might be.
There she found him, sitting in his armchair and gazing at the night sky through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The silence was strangely frightening.
“Harry?”
Her voice made him jump. His head turned and he stared at her with his eyes glossy and his face twisted. She moistened her dry lips, her stomach triple-knotted when he dropped his hand into the cradle of his arms. She sauntered across the room to take a seat on the arm of the chair so he could hug her waist and bury his face into her chest.
She held him while he cried.
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.
.
The next morning, Y/N left the house when Harry was still asleep because she had an essay exam. She thought she did an okay job. It could have been better if she hadn’t got distracted by the thoughts about last night and early this morning. Still, she was never the kind of person who kept dwelling on an exam once she’d handed it in. On her way to another class, she got a text message from Harry wishing her good luck. He’d sent it before she’d entered the exam room, but she’d put her phone on airplane mode and only received it just now. She told him she’d just finished it and that she’d call him later at lunch.
As she walked across the courtyard, a group of girls sitting in the shade pointed at her and whispered something to each other. If she was in a good mood, she’d wave at them and smile (Kill them with kindness, Harry always said). If she was feeling neutral, she’d turn a blind eye and walk straight ahead. Today, she was in a bad mood, so she stopped and called out, “Take a picture. It lasts longer.”
The girls all turned away, embarrassed and acting like they hadn’t been snickering about her just a second ago. Whatever, she thought and continued walking.
The rest of the day passed rather briskly. She attended classes with trips to and from the library in between. Last year, she would go to her favourite spot on the courtyard to write and listen to music, but since the whole world had discovered about her relationship with Harry, she couldn’t stand the thoughts of how many eyes would be assessing her when she was alone and distracted. At least people wouldn’t talk so loudly in the library, which made it easier for her to pretend nobody gave a shit about her.
On the Uber ride to the hospital, she got a text from Alice asking if she was coming back to the bookshop because Eddie missed her even though he would never admit it. She’d taken two weeks off to work on her manuscript. It sounded like a stupid thing to do – giving up on present income for unearned profit, though she believed it’d been necessary. After all, she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life working in a bookshop. She texted Alice back that she’d be back on Monday next week. Alice responded with the dancing girl and confetti emoji.
Earlier today, Y/N had called Laura’s assistant to ask about Laura. Marie (Y/N kept forgetting her name) had said that Laura had got better and would be able to leave the hospital in two days. It was good news for Laura, and also Y/N. On one hand, she cared about Laura’s wellbeing as they were no longer just agent and client. On the other hand, Laura was still responsible for Y/N’s career, which she wouldn’t give up just because a stupid man had tried to intervene. Talented or privileged, she was getting that damn book deal.
“Y/N!” Marie’s eyes gleamed when Y/N entered the room. Laura was lying in bed wearing a hospital gown, a lazy smile stretched her chapped lips as she fixed her gaze on Y/N. Marie got up and quickly told Y/N, “Can you stay here with Miss Hilfgard? I’m going to fetch coffee for all of us.”
“I don’t drink coffee,” Y/N said, turning to Laura. “Are you...allowed to drink caffeine?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really want coffee anyway,” she said and told her assistant, “You get yourself a coffee, Marie. I’ll chat with Y/N for a bit.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Marie brightened like a happy schoolgirl and disappeared into the hallway. The door was closed, and Y/N took a seat in the chair beside the bed.
“So…” she trailed off, “How are you?”
“I’m good. Last night wasn’t the first time I’d got sent to the hospital for binge-drinking,” she confessed.
Y/N’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“Yeah. I was a rebel back in Uni. When I said I was a Yale student, nobody would believe me.”
Right. Laura had gone to Yale. Blake also went to Yale. Y/N felt a sudden urge to ask if that was how they knew each other in the first place, but she stopped herself at once. She must not bring up Blake to Laura ever again.
“I don’t remember everything I said to you yesterday, but I assume it was...enough...” she trailed off, her eyelids drooped as she smiled. “I don’t want you to think it would change anything between us. You and me. I still want to work with you.”
Y/N licked her lips and clenched her jaw. “Did you contact me because he told you to?”
“No, God, Y/N!” Laura cackled and patted Y/N’s knee as if she’d just told the funniest joke. “I actually refused to read your manuscript because Blake seemed so fond of you,” Laura said, sounding amused. “But then I felt like it wouldn’t be fair to turn you down without having actually read it, so I gave it a chance. And I had to contact you right away.”
Y/N breathed out a laugh as her chest expanded with relief. However, sadness suddenly clouded Laura’s features. Her voice dropped. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I completely understand if you don’t want to work with me anymore.”
“Are you kidding? Of course I want to continue working with you,” Y/N retorted. “I mean, you basically saved my life. Okay, it may sound a bit dramatic but...I was gonna give up on writing, but you gave me hope again. In a way, you saved my life.”
When Laura laughed, Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because she found what Y/N had said funny or she was genuinely happy to hear it. Either way, Y/N didn’t regret saying it out loud.
“Well, you literally saved my life so...we’re even?” Laura offered her hand, and Y/N reached out to shake it, but then she withdrew quickly.
“Actually, you still owe me a book deal.”
“Yes, I do.” Laura grinned, her hand still extended, waiting for Y/N’s. “I already rescheduled the meeting with the publishers. Yes, people would have to fight for your book, Y/N.”
There was something so businesslike in the way she said it. Smiling from ear to ear, Y/N took her hand and gave a firm shake. This already felt like a better beginning.
.
.
.
Harry was just about to hit the indoor gym when the doorbell rang, echoing through his mansion. He hurriedly picked up his phone from the bedside table to see a couple of new texts and missed calls from Gemma and Isaac. Could it be them? Fuck. He didn’t want this attention at all. Why couldn’t they just let him cool off in peace?
Winton and Emilia would probably blow up his phone, too, if he hadn’t already blocked their numbers. He didn’t want to speak to them ever again, although it made him feel like a coward. With Gemma and Isaac, he was only avoiding them because he’d lose his mind and say something hurtful. He loved them, but this was really weird, especially when Isaac had dated Harry’s girl and Gemma had been crying about Asher not so long ago. Harry didn’t even dare to think about the possibility of his sister cheating on Asher behind Asher’s back. Not because he cared about Asher’s feelings or whatsoever. But because after all the drama between him, Y/N, Isaac, and Ruby, he knew better than anyone a love-triangle wouldn’t make anyone happy.
The doorbell sounded again when he careened downstairs, not sure if he should answer the door. What would he do if it was one of those four? Would he ask them to leave? Or would he invite them in so they could talk it out like adults? He was never good at confrontation. Y/N had constantly criticized him for it even though she was only a bit better than him. If something is bound to happen, the more you avoid it, the worse it gets, she’d said. He should probably take her advice and let whatever was going to happen happen.
Heart thumping inside his chest, he hastened to check the front door security camera, and sagged in relief when he saw Y/N waiting outside. Guess he wasn’t ready to take her advice after all.
But wait, why did she bring her suitcase? Was she in trouble? Had Blake done something to her? His speculations made his blood boil, and he hurriedly came to the door. He swung it open and was met with a giggly Y/N, who threw her arms around his neck and kissed him twice on the cheek.
“Sorry I forgot my key,” she said and wiped her lip gloss off his face with her thumb
“Are you going somewhere?” He nodded his head toward her pink suitcase. When her smile dropped, he feared he’d said something wrong.
“Here, Harry.” She aggressively pointed a finger to her feet. “I’m going here.”
Bemused, he arched an eyebrow. She mimicked his reaction, and they ended up having a staring contest right at his front door. As always, she was the first to give in.
“I’m moving in with you.”
“What?” His jaw fell slack as he blinked rapidly. “Are you...sure? What...what made you change your mind?”
Half of him was over the moon for how serious she looked when she said it. The other half of him was afraid she’d only made this decision just so she could avoid Blake like he’d been doing with Gemma and Isaac. If they were his neighbour, he would probably just move to a different house. Y/N didn’t have a house in every city, so he guessed his place was one of her few options.
“If you think I’m doing this because of Blake, I’ll be very disappointed.”
He swallowed hard, shaking his head. He should have known she could sometimes read his mind. “N-No...that’s not–”
“And I’m not doing this for you, either,” she interrupted, her forehead creased and her eyes piercing at him. At this point, he was very confused and nervous; the suspense was killing him.
“I’m doing this because of me,” she said at last. “The reason I was hesitant to give you an answer was because I was uncertain about myself. I didn’t want to be dependent on you, and I was afraid that if we ever...broke up, I’d be disoriented and have nowhere to go. But I’ve learned a few things about trust, which made me realize that it was okay to need someone sometimes. You’re the only person I want to be with today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life so...I want to try this with you. I’m not gonna–I’m not gonna leave my flat but...I would like to have...a drawer at your place...And we could, you know, try to see where this–”
He didn’t let her finish. He couldn’t. He lurched forward, grabbed her face and pressed his lips against hers. She let out a startled gasp but immediately returned the action. They kissed as if their lives depended on it. If they were in public, people would be hollering and whistling like one of those scenes in rom-coms which made Y/N cringe every time. When they broke apart, they’d smeared her lip gloss, but from the beam on her face, Harry knew she was too happy to care.
“That was rude. You interrupted me,” she whispered, hands in his hair as their forehead glued together.
“Sorry.” He held her hips and pecked the corner of her mouth. “Did you write that speech before coming here?”
“I did,” she sounded serious because he seriously believed she had written it down. As mentioned before, Y/N wasn’t good at confrontation, either. It was easier for her to express her thoughts through written words.
“Are you gonna carry my luggage to your room or what?” she asked and suddenly covered her mouth as if she’d said something offensive. He squinted his eyes, looking at her funny. “I should start calling it our room, right?”
His shoulders rounded as he exhaled. Beaming, he ruffled her hair and picked up her suitcase. “Let’s go to our room before I fuck you on our doorsteps.”
“Hmm. That should be our new tradition. Welcome home fuck on the doorsteps.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and winked extravagantly at him before strutting inside. He felt his smile grow so big it took over his entire face.
187 notes · View notes
chubbyhl · 3 years
Text
Louis quits smoking
“Louis, we’ve been over this, can you please smoke on the balcony? I know it’s cold outside but it’s really not good for the dogs, let alone for you.” Harry rounded the corner to find Louis sitting near an open window trying to push the cigarette smoke towards the winter air. 
  “But Haz…I have the window open” Louis pouted with his lower lip out, anything to not face the snow and chilly breeze. 
  “No Lou, we had a deal, if you weren’t gonna quit by November you had to smoke outside. So either you try and quit or the balcony it is.” Harry grabbed Louis’ arm as he started to pull him toward the balcony door. 
  “Fine, fine fine fine! I’ll smoke outside for tonight. But mark my words Harry, I’m quitting tomorrow.” Louis stepped into his shoes and slipped on his jacket, stomping his feet as the door swung open.
  “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” Harry huffed as the door shut louder than it needed to. Being stuck inside all winter with a cranky Louis trying to kick a nicotine habit was not how he wanted to spend both their birthdays and Christmas. 
  The next morning the boys woke up in their bed wrapped around each other to fend off the morning chill. December on the east coast was not too kind compared to their LA home, or even their London home this time of year. The boys decided to stay in New York for a few months while Harry finished up a few projects before they could both head back to Holmes Chapel for the spring. Louis of course transferred all his upcoming studio sessions here, so it was settled that the winter would be spent in the city. 
  It was around 8 in the morning when Louis got the familiar itch for his morning cigarette accompanied by a cup of black coffee, but before Louis could swing his legs off the bed he remembered his words to Harry yesterday 
  I’m quitting tomorrow 
  And Louis never went back on his word. 
  He laid in bed wrapped around Harry for a few minutes longer letting the younger boys heat seep into his skin to try and chase away the craving itching in his mind. It wasn’t helping as much as Louis had hoped. 
  “Haz” Louis whispered against Harry’s neck. Harry’s eyes twitched for a moment, proving he was still fast asleep. 
  “Harry, please” Louis whispered a bit louder, begging for any kind of distraction. 
“Lou, what” Harry turned in bed, still taken over by sleep, pulling Louis closer to his chest.
  “I want a cigarette” Louis mumbled out into Harry’s neck. 
  “Hmm boobear?” Harry asked again, gently as he carded his fingers through Louis’ hair with a yawn 
  “I want a smoke.” Louis said a little louder, embarrassed such a trivial thing was driving him so mad this early in the morning. It was only a cigarette, it’s not like he let them run his life. Surely this had to be an easy habit to kick, he’s done far harder things. 
  “So go outside and smoke Boo” Harry huffed, loosening his hold on the older boy and pulling the covers up.
  “No” 
  “Lou you have to go outside to smoke. I’m not having this argument again.”
  “No, I told you I was quitting today.”
  Harry’s eyes opened at that, “You were serious yesterday?” 
  Louis crossed his arms in front of himself as he lay on his back, “Of course I was being serious.” He rolled his eyes at the curly headed boy beside him. Why would Harry think he was joking?
  They lay in silence for a moment more, before Louis rolled over and shoved his face into the pillow with a groan. 
  “This is going to be harder than I thought.” 
  Harry ran his fingers down Louis’ back, “We’ll figure it out Boo, why don’t we go make breakfast, take your mind off of it?” 
  —–
Breakfast was the perfect distraction for Louis, both of them had found. Harry took the time to cook a full breakfast, eggs, bacon, toast, even muffins were popped into the oven. The coffee was poured, Louis set the table, the dogs were fed, and they sat in silence as they ate and scrolled through their phones. 
  It wasn’t hard to notice Louis was using food as a distraction as he went to fill his plate up for a second time, something that wouldn’t normally happen at any meal time they shared besides Thanksgiving in the states. 
  Harry’s eyes lifted from his phone playfully watching Louis lift more eggs to his mouth, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, his tan skin on display as neither of them bothered to put anything more than a pair of boxers on to tread downstairs. 
  After another 15 or so minutes, Harry’s first plate was empty along with Louis’ second, as Louis began to unwrap another muffin from the tray, “Lou, would you like another cup of coffee?” 
  Louis’ popped another piece of muffin in his mouth as he looked at Harry through his eyelashes, “Yes please” he said with a smile and cheeks full of muffin. 
  —–
  After breakfast it was obvious that even today, on day one of Louis quitting, if Louis didn’t find another hobby…food was going to be the thing he used to fill the nicotine void. It was common enough, Harry read through articles and articles of things ex-smokers picked up in order to kick the bad habit. Some took to drinking, others to running, some used nicotine patches or gum, and some people ate. It’s not like it would harm Louis to eat a little more - especially when in the past he had used smoking to skip meals whilst on tour. Harry was happy to see Louis at least enjoying himself and the food he was eating. 
  It’s when Harry found Louis curled up in their bed after dinner that a little bit of concern popped into his mind. 
  Harry crawled in beside his husband gently petting his hair, “Going to bed early tonight are we?” Harry giggled, but Louis’ face scrunched up at the joke. 
  “My stomach hurts Haz” Louis pouted, similar to how he had the night before, with his lower lip out and his puppy dog eyes.
  “Well, baby, I…you did eat quite a bit today. More than I’ve seen you eat in a long time for a day that isn’t thanksgiving.” The corners of Harry’s lips turned up at the memory of the holiday under a month ago. 
  “I couldn’t help it, everytime I wanted to smoke it was easier to just…eat…” Louis laid flat on his back, setting his hands on his bloated stomach. 
  “Want me to rub your tummy baby?” Harry offered as he scooched closer to the blue eyed boy.
  “Mhm” Louis pouted again, he always knew how to get his way with Harry, that was for sure. 
  Harry set his hand on top of Louis’ tummy and started to rub gentle circles as Louis nuzzled into him, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. “For the love of god, say something tomorrow, I can’t keep doing this just to quit cigarettes” Louis breathed out as Harry went to leave a kiss on his forehead. 
  “There are worse things you could be doing to quit Lou, besides, you deserve to have a little more freedom with food anyways. I’d rather you eat that smoke, or drink.” Harry chuckled, he definitely did not want a drunk Louis all the time, that was for sure. 
  “I guess” Louis said as he nuzzled closer to Harry, if it was even possible. There wasn’t any space left in between their bodies. 
  “And besides, if I have to lay in bed with you every night and rub your tummy just to quit smoking? That’s gotta be the cutest thing ever. Much cuter than helping you apply a nicotine patch or combing your hair back while you puke your guts up in a toilet.” Harry hummed as he continued to circle his hand over the distended bump that was Louis’ stomach. He could understand why Louis’ must not feel well, his belly swollen and taught from all the food packed in there. 
  “I know you’re right, I didn’t expect it to be this hard.” Louis sighed.
  “It’s only day one Boo, and now you’re past the hardest day.”
  —-
It went on like that for another two weeks, more often than night each night the boys would lay in bed and Harry would rub Louis’ belly until the older boy fell asleep. Even when Louis didn’t have a stomach ache, it relaxed him into being able to shut his eyes without his nightly cigarette. Of course, Harry didn’t mind at all, he was even beginning to hope this routine didn’t end. 
  Over the past two weeks Harry took the liberty of keeping the house stocked with Louis’ favorite food and snacks, anything that he thought would bring Louis joy in this hard time. As the boys went about their daily routines of recording sessions, press work, or team meetings - Louis more often than not had his hand in some type of snack bag, leaning heavily towards chips and popcorn, even little packets of sweets like the cookies he used to have in his house as a child. 
Anything to drive the nicotine craving away. 
  Of course, this did not go unnoticed by Harry, or Louis’ body for that matter. Over the past two weeks Louis’ new found habit had led to hard edges being filled out with soft curves, his tummy more noticeable in his shirts like when he was younger. It wasn’t much weight, it had only been 14 days after all, but both the boys had certainly noticed. 
  “What if this craving doesn’t go away and I keep eating like this Haz?” Louis asked him one night as he ran his hand over his own stomach, finding it softer than it had been in months. 
  “Then you won’t smoke any cigarettes” Harry said matter of factly, it was true. This had been working well to drive Louis’ cravings away, for sure. 
  “Harry…come on. Look at me. My stomach it’s…” 
“Beautiful?” Harry smiled
“Softer, it’s soft. I’m….you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed I’m putting on a little weight here.” Louis shifted anxiously. 
  “Do you mind it?” Harry asked genuinely, not offering any praise before he knew how Louis felt about his own body. 
  “I…I don’t know how I feel about it. I want to stop smoking, that’s what I know.” Louis states, leaving the question open ended. He didn’t think he really minded the new found softness, it reminded him of when he was younger and the band was just starting, and the beginnings of their relationship together. 
  And if he didn’t crave cigarettes as often because of it, he could deal with the extra weight. 
  “Okay baby, well if this is helping you stop smoking, then we’ll let your body run it’s course while the cravings go away. I think you always look beautiful, always Lou, so please don’t worry about that if you are.” Harry smiled as he kissed Louis’ neck. 
  “Mhm, and I’m sure you’d love it if my ass got bigger too.” Louis smirked as Harry went in for a kiss.
“Oh, please.” Harry giggled as Louis kissed him back.
  ——
“Harry!” Louis yelled from their bedroom for the third time as Harry cleared the staircase in record time.
  “Lou, Lou what’s wrong? Why are you yelling?” Harry said, trying to catch his breath. 
  He found Louis laying flat on the bed with a pair of his jeans on and nothing else. 
  The older boy turned his head to face Harry, “You did this.” Louis stated simply, putting his hands behind his head. 
  “What are you talking about?” Harry huffed as he walked over.
  “You did this, Harold, my jeans won’t button up.” Louis huffed as he tried once more to pull the button to the hole, but with no such luck. A small bump of soft skin was in the way of the zipper too. 
  “And how is this my fault?” Harry smirked as he watched Louis lay dramatically with his arms splayed out. He was always one for dramatics. 
  “Because you’ve been keeping the house stocked up with all my favorite things, so of course I was going to be eating them!” Louis huffed, closing his eyes as he brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. 
  “Loubear, that really doesn’t mean that you not being able to button your jeans is my fault.” Harry tried to level, still amused at how dramatic Louis was being. 
  “We can buy you more jeans baby, it’s only fabric” Harry left a few kisses on Louis’ shoulder. 
  Both of Louis’ hands then went down to his belly, handling the softness, “I’m…how much do you think I weigh now? 170? 175?” Louis giggled at the guess. He hadn’t weighed more than 160 in about 10 years. 
  “Barely even, Louis it isn’t much weight. And you’ve been cigarette free for almost a month and a week.” Harry ran a hand down Louis’ chest. 
  “Well, are you going to guess?” “Why? Are you going to find out?” Harry’s eyebrow raised in curiosity. 
  “Maybe I should. See what my progress is, keep track.” Louis smirked. This could be fun. 
  “What….I, I don’t know, maybe 168? Like I said babe, it can’t be much.” Harry bent down to kiss Louis’ tummy where it poked out the most. 
  Louis then stood up and kicked the dreaded jeans off, making his way to the bathroom where Harry kept the scale hidden in the back of the cabinet. 
  He set the scale down on the white tile floor, cold and uninviting, as he waited for the numbers to set to zero. 
  “If it’s above 170 you have to make me dinner.” Louis said as he glanced at Harry before he stepped on.
  “I always make you dinner Lou, not much of a bet there.” 
  “Fine. If it’s above 170 can we order in?”
  “Are you trying to gain weight here? Did I miss something?” Harry mused at the idea of Louis’ body being softer than it already was now. He certainly didn’t mind it, and wouldn’t if it continued. 
  Louis stepped on the scale without answering Harry’s question. The numbers blinked and blinked, before they settled on 173.
  “Ha! I knew it! 13 pounds!” Louis said, grabbing at the soft swell at the bottom of his tummy.
  “Can we get chinese?” The older boy said with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Harry. 
  “Only if you answer my question.” Harry waited patiently. 
  Louis squeezed him tighter before letting go and stepping back. 
  “I honestly…don’t mind it. If I gain I gain, if I lose I lose, but I know for damn sure I like eating whatever and whenever I please. Fuck cigarettes when you can have food, right?” Louis smiled brightly as he turned towards the mirror to inspect himself again. 
  “Mmmmm, you know babe, I think you’re right.” Harry smiled back as he crouched down to kiss all over Louis’ little pouched tummy. “You’d look cute with a little more weight on you I think. You look cute now, you looked cute before. I think you’ll always look cute.” Harry reassured. 
  “I think we should find out just how cute I can be.” Louis smiled, “Now, go order the Chinese” He pecked Harry’s cheeks as he went off to find a pair of sweatpants that fit. 
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thatsparrow · 4 years
Text
(read on ao3)
Lapin wakes up in shadow, beaten and broken badly enough that the air is heavy with the sugar-rich smell of his own blood.
In sweetness—, he thinks. But where is my strength now?
His senses return to him slowly, but when they do, the picture they paint is an un-pretty one: a six-by-eight foot cell of hewn stone, matching sets of cinched iron manacles running between his wrists and ankles to bolts in the wall, the feeling of sticky, half-dried chocolate across an aching stretch of his abdomen. His staff is missing, as are his Primogen robes, but there is a small huddle of pink-and-red peppermint near his feet, something with twitching ears and a curlicue tail and sharp button-black eyes.
"So we're alive, then," Lapin says, gingerly lifting himself into a sitting position while the pig—Priscilla? Praline? No, Preston—shuffles forward and nudges at his hand with a soft, damp nose. "Perhaps the Bulb is capable of kindness after all."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, apostate." Walking up on the other side of the bars is the young Commander Grissini, flanked by two fellow Ceresian guards. He looks battle-weary and bloodstained—though, notably, not with his own; blackberry jam, if Lapin had to guess, judging by the smell of sugared fruit. (Heaven knows he'd never respected them, but Lapin will certainly credit the Tartguard for that particular moment of loyalty.)
"Just a joke, Commander." Lapin's mouth narrows in a tight smile. "I know well that the Bulb has no capacity for kindness or mercy. Has your Pontifex told you that, I wonder? Do you know you serve a hollow god?"
"Silence, heretic," one of the guards hisses. "Keep your false words behind your teeth unless you'd like me to cut them from your tongue."
Lapin lets his smile widen but remains quiet; there's surely pain enough in store for him without inviting more of it himself.
"Easy," Grissini says to the guard. "The Pontifex warned us of the lies he would tell. A rabid dog barks loudest when it feels the chain tightening around its neck."
Lapin exhales—not quite a laugh, but not entirely humorless either. A rabid dog. Well, he's been called worse.
"Something funny, apostate?" A line creases Grissini's brow. "I can't imagine what you might find amusing about your situation."
Notting particularly, but Lapin is hardly about to give them the satisfaction of seeing the knotted weight of his concern instead. He'll two-step so long as he has the illusion of stable footing, however rotted and fragile the foundations might really be.
"Tell me," he says after a moment, "Sir Keradin, in the cathedral—he killed me, did he not?"
"He did."
"And yet given that I am here, alive, I must have been revivified, yes?"
"Obviously," Grissini says with a note of impatience.
Interesting, Lapin thinks. And likely inauspicious. He glances between Grissini and the two guards at his side, then lets his eyes alight on the man at Grissini's left, the one who'd threatened to cut out his tongue. He considers the man, makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "Would you like to know what I saw in the afterlife?" Lapin says to him. "Would you like to know the true form of your Bulb? How many can say they've been blessed enough to behold it themselves?"
The guard looks between him and Grissini, the sharp, irate lines of his expression bent a little by uncertainty. Then to Lapin, voice notably less assured than before, "I would never be so foolish as to trust your falsehoods."
"Understandable," Lapin muses. "But how can you be sure that I'd lie? Even for a man with such conviction in his faith, aren't you the slightest bit curious of what I have to say?" Lapin raises an eyebrow.
The guard hesitates for a moment. Lapin gestures for him to move closer. Slowly, his face warring between anger and doubt, he crouches down to where Lapin sits.
"Ennio—" Grissini says, warning. Lapin leans towards the bars, lowers his voice for Ennio's ears alone.
"It was luminescent and shining," Lapin whispers. "The most beautiful thing for miles, brighter than any that had come before or would follow. To walk closer demands that you shield your eyes, lest your vision be burned away as punishment for your hubris. But I did approach, and I felt its light and its heat and its power, and then I opened my eyes—just for a moment—and do you know what I saw?"
Ennio tilts his head closer, eyes shut, his forehead pressed against the iron as he listens.
"—Nothing." Ennio recoils as if scalded, mouth twisted in a snarl. Lapin raises his voice as he continues, grinning wide. "All that beauty and all that brightness and nothing beneath it!" He feels fingers at his throat as Ennio's hand shoots through the bars, fisting around his collar and yanking him forward. Sharp, bruising pain blooms across his face as he slams into the metal, splitting his lip and the skin above his eye, snapping something in his nose, reopening a healed-over wound on his temple. Lapin can taste chocolate on his teeth and laughs, loud and reckless. "Congratulations, for your faith is akin to a man praying for salvation at the foot of a fucking boulder—"
"Enough!" Grissini shouts as Ennio starts to move again, shouldering him back from the bars, one hand closing around Ennio's wrist until he gives up his hold on Lapin's collar. Lapin falls back against the wall, still smiling as something begins to swell above his eye, blood pooling along his upper lip and against his gums. Grissini shoves Ennio back against the far wall, forearm up under his chin, and says, "Leave—" he jerks his head at the other guard, "—both of you, until you can learn some composure."
Grissini holds himself in front of Ennio until he relents, then gives a curt nod as he straightens his uniform, adjusts the grip on his spear, and turns to walk back down the hall with his compatriot. Before he goes, he spits on the ground in front of Lapin's cell, muttering something that sounds like filthy fucking heretic.
"Have you always been such a fool?" Grissini asks once they've gone. "Or does being in Comida bring it out in you?"
"I can see very few bright spots from my current vantage, Commander," Lapin says, wiping some of the blood from his nose, his temple, his eyebrow. His smile fades. "Forgive me for having enjoying a moment of levity when the opportunity appeared."
"Your situation can always be made worse." Grissini leans on his spear; it at least seems clean of dried jam or crumbs of shortbread crust. Then again, how much difference does it make that he didn't do any of the killing himself? "I say that not as a threat, but as a reminder. You are only alive because it suits the will of the Pontifex. So long as she believes you are useful, she will take whatever steps necessary to wring out your remaining value."
"If that bloated broccoli bitch thinks I'm helping with anything, then I look forward to enlightening her."
"Bulb above, wake up!" Grissini snaps. "Are you truly so oblivious to the nature of your situation that you need me to spell it out for you? There is no future in which you live to see the outside of this prison. While you are here, the Pontifex will make use of the wide scope of her imagination and the tools at Sir Keradin's disposal until you surrender any and all information you have about House Rocks, your fellow Candians and their political intentions, and the source of your witchcraft." Grissini pauses; Lapin is as weary as he's ever been, his eye nearly swollen closed from the bruising blow of the bars, but he could almost mistake the expression on Grissini's face for something akin to shame. "Undoubtedly the process will be both slow and painful. Once it's done, should you have proved to be compliant and your intelligence reliable, she may be merciful enough to allow you a quick death." He blinks, eyes shifting away from Lapin's stare before meeting it again. "Far likelier, though, that she devises some new punishment to fill your final days, simply for the inconvenience you've caused her thus far."
"You don't seem particularly pleased at that prospect, Commander," Lapin ventures, watching the slight shifts in Grissini's face. "Won't you also be excited to watch the 'false prophet' burn?"
Grissini holds himself carefully still. "I have tremendous respect for the Concorde, for the duties of my station, and for the oaths I have taken to Ceresia and the Emperor," he says after a moment. "That does not mean I take any satisfaction in the outcome awaiting you. From what I witnessed on the Sucrosi Road and in the tournament, as well as in the cathedral, you and your fellow Candians seem a group worth admiring." He exhales, slow. "I am—truly sorry that this is the future we find ourselves in."
"Sorry enough to help me attempt an escape?" Grissini maintains his steady, statue-faced look, and Lapin smiles a little ruefully. "No, I didn't think so. I thank you for your insights, Commander, and for your kind words—however hollow they might be." Grissini winces a little; a cheap barb, but at this particular point, Lapin won't deny himself such pettiness. "Was there anything else? If not, I would ask you to let me enjoy whatever remaining peace and quiet I am permitted."
Grissini works at his jaw, brow still creased. "Save your breath on spellcasting; the cell has been enchanted by the Pontifex herself to prevent any witchcraft. I believe your first—interrogation is scheduled for tomorrow morning, so you should still have some hours to rest." He turns to go, then pauses. "For what it's worth, they haven't been found yet—your king and the princesses, nor Sir Theobald or the Jawbreaker boy. If they've managed to escape Comida, there may still be some hope for them."
And then he's gone.
In the dim light of the cell, Lapin lets out a deep sigh, allowing his face to bear all the weight of the bone-deep exhaustion he's felt since waking; he has no way of seeing his reflection, but he wouldn't be surprised to see new wrinkles dug in around his eyes and bridging his forehead. Heavens, he's so tired. Next to him, Preston makes a soft whuffing noise and clambers half into his lap, circling a few times before settling in a tight peppermint curl, his snout pressed into the crook of Lapin's left elbow.
"Alright, but just this once," Lapin says, petting absently at the soft, peach-fuzz stretch of skin between Preston's ears. "And only because this will stay with us." He scratches under Preston's chin, then notices a clump of something sticky dried into the short bristles of Preston's fur, minty-smelling blood congealed around scarred-over skin, ragged wounds that match the barbed edges of Keradin's mace.
"What a bastard." His hands are gentle around the pale pink stretches of new skin. "Who goes after a pig." He murmurs the incantation for a healing spell—both for poor Preston and himself—but true to Grissini's word, nothing happens. Unfortunate; in addition to Preston's wounds, he can feel at least two cracked ribs in his own chest.
"I should give the Pontifex more credit for her counter-charms," Lapin says after a moment. "That, or you've cut your losses and found a new attendant." He smiles wryly. "Likely one who can serve your interests more effectively than from a cell."
He waits, but there's no answer. Were he a hopeful man, he might attribute the silence to the Pontifex's wards, shielding any divine influence from entering the cell as effectively as they've dampened his own spellcasting ability. Far likelier though that he's been abandoned to his fate.
"I suppose it's just you and I now, Preston." He glances down and takes some small comfort in the continued rise-and-fall of Preston's chest. "For the moment, at least. Admittedly, this isn't how I'd envisioned the end of my particular story, but the dice fall where they may. Heaven knows there are worse companions I might have found myself with."
Preston lets out another contented whuff and resettles himself, eyes gently closed.
"I think you have the right idea there," Lapin says, resting his head on the wall behind him, doing his best to ignore the slight crag of stone jutting into his lower back. "If Commander Grissini is to be trusted—and, in this case, I believe he is—then such moments of peace will be few and far between in the days to come."  
Whuff, whuff.
"Yes, I'm glad to hear they're alright, too, though I'd place little faith in our paths crossing again. My apologies—I know I'm not the companion that young Liam was."
Whuff. Whuff, whuff.
"Very well, I shall endeavor to sleep. Perhaps we'll wake in the morning to find a kinder world."
Whuff.
"No, I don't think so either."
As Lapin closes his eyes and counts the measure of his breathing, he works very hard to rein his wayward thoughts back from dark visions of tomorrow, of windowless rooms and tables with built-in restraints and long trays of metal-mouthed implements. Focuses instead on remembering his study in Castle Candy, flickering firelight against the bound spines of his books, sugar-spun windows opening up to a view of the grounds below, the purple-tipped peaks of the Great Stone Candy Mountains to the north.
Breathe.
A forest of ice cream-frosted evergreens instead of Sir Keradin's blade digging for secrets under his skin. Spring afternoons by the banks of the Cola instead of the sickly yellow light of the Pontifex's magic. Powdered motes of pastel dust in the castle library instead of hands tightening around his throat or firebrands pressed against his feet. Home instead of a cell. Safety instead of this aching pit in his stomach.
Breathe, Lapin. It is all you can do for the moment.
When he finally drifts off, the sleep he finds is a fitful one, punctuated by uneasy, sharp-edged dreams. Slowly, though, his mind drifts towards calmer waters, the soothing rhythm of a lazy current, true rest for his worn-down mind. At one point, Preston shifts in his lap, still half-asleep, nosing the air around them curiously. Almost as if he'd caught the faint smell of sugar plums.
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Behind the Curtain - 2
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| Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue | 
Updates are Sundays at 5pm PST!
Characters: Choi Youngjae x You Genre: Smut Warning(s): Stuffing, Water Inflation, Bondage  Word Count: 2,577
**Hello My Lovelies!! 
I am adding an extra warning/recommendation here. Body inflation is a very graphic and intense kink. It is classified as an extreme kink for a reason. If you want to brave reading it or learn more about what it is, feel free to read the chapter and enjoy. 
If inflation is not a kink you enjoy reading about or it makes you uncomfortable, I would recommend 1 of 2 things. Either read just the beginning of this chapter until the point where Youngjae takes you to his room and know that the rest is intense inflation smut (I’ll add ** there to show the divide), or just skip this chapter altogether. It is mentioned in future chapters if he is light or dark so don’t worry about missing out on that. 
I also want to ask you, please don’t write off my entire series from this one intense kink chapter. I wanted to challenge myself by writing one chapter on an extreme kink that I don’t see often and after some research I decided on this one. The other chapters have kinks/sexual situations that are much more “main stream” and even if they aren’t your thing I think you’ll enjoy them. 
Thanks! ~LoLo**
You knew that you needed to work your way up to some of the more closed off members, especially since you didn’t really have to do any work to seduce Mark and learn more about him. What you needed was to build up experience to be able to break the walls of someone as powerful as Got7′s head kingpin by the end of the week. Tomorrow would have to be someone you knew you could easily seduce.
Who better to start with than Mr. Innocence and Sunshine himself.
Your dreams were filled with thoughts of Mark, but when you woke up the next morning to the sound of your violent alarm, you knew that you needed to be filly focused on the next member on your list. Choi Youngjae.
After careful thought, you decided to try to get Youngjae alone in either your office or his. If he was sure you were alone, you thought he would easily cave to your flirting and things could get heated quickly. You tied your hair up in a purposely messy bun, a few tendrils of hair falling along your neck, and made sure to put on just enough makeup that your eyes and lips really popped, but it didn’t look out of the ordinary for you. You wanted his attention on your best features to really pull him in. 
After putting on your finishing touches, you left your room and sought out Youngjae. After spending most of the morning looking for him, finding his office and normal hang outs void of his presence, you found out he was off base doing a business deal and wouldn’t be back until dinner time. 
You continued on with your day like normal until dinner time. You usually sat with the other advisors in the cafeteria but decided to sit alone today not too far from the table reserved for the 7 leaders. 
You sat picking at your food, watching as people came and went, not seeing Youngjae at all. You waited almost two hours at that table, lost in a daze before a familiar voice shocked you out of your thoughts.
“And I thought I’d be eating alone this late.” Youngjae smiled as he set 2 very full trays down and took the seat next to you. 
“Oh..” you said pretending to be frazzled, “what time is it?”
Youngjae laughed at your confusion, it wasn’t like you. “It’s almost 8:30.” He smiled as he took a bite of his food and pushed one of the two trays in front of you.
“What’s this?” You asked as you looked at the hot food in front of you. 
“You’re dinner.” He smiled, “The cafeteria worker said you’ve been here for hours. Your food must be freezing by now.”
“Thank you… but I’m fine,” you said as you began to fidget with this food as well. “Plus this could feed 3 of me!” you laughed gently as you smiled at him. 
“Nope,” Youngjae said as he took his own fork and held a bite of food up to your mouth. “Ahh” He cutely said as he opened his mouth, asking you to mimic him. You laugh and roll your eyes as you play along. He continues to feed you dinner in between his own bites. You can’t help but think at how cute it is. 
“I’m getting full Youngjae,” You say as he  holds up another bite for you to eat, almost half of your tray gone at this point. “I should stop.”
“You’re going to turn down food from one of your bosses?” He asked cutely “One of your bosses who is even willing to feed it to you?” He raised his eyebrows and wiggled the fork in front of you, looking so happy to be there with you. “I can have a few more bites.”  You smiled, not wanting to upset him, especially if you needed to stay on his good side to seduce him later. 
A few bites turned into you finishing your entire tray and you think Youngjae might have snuck some of his food to you as well. You stopped seeing him take bites a while ago. You felt so full, you didn’t know how you ate that much. 
“I can’t believe I ate that much,” You said taking a breath and looking down seeing your stomach was bloated, stretching your shirt. You immediately tried to hide it in embarrassment. You were supposed to be seducing Youngjae, and this was not the way to do that
“Y/N,” he said smiling, “We aren’t done yet! We haven’t had dessert!” He got up before you could protest and grabbed both of you milkshakes and large pieces of chocolate cake.
“I appreciate it, Youngjae, I really do, but I don’t think I could eat another bite if it tried. I’m so full.” He just smiled, handing you the plate and glass, making you take it with hesitation.
“Aren’t you the one who told us before that there is always room for dessert?” He smiled, “I thought you had a separate dessert stomach.” He took a bite of his cake and smiled at you as he chewed.
"I did say that before," you nervously smiled as you looked at the food in front of you. It looked like Youngjae had gotten you a piece of cake much bigger than his. You needed to be careful with eating this, especially if you wanted to still go through with your plan today. You just couldn’t say no to Youngjae. You could see why he was in charge of business deals for the gang.
"Now be a good girl and eat!" He smirked. 
You took the fork again in your hands, preparing to take in the last slice. It was just one more thing before you could stop and try to move forward with your plan. Youngjae watched you closely as you took in every bite of the chocolatey, spongy mass. After forcing down every last bite you looked over at Youngjae and smiled. 
“It was really good,” You started, “I’m amazed I finished it.” Youngjae smiled brightly at you as he reached for your milkshake at put it in front of you, looking anxiously at you to drink it.
“You can’t forget to wash it down with something.” He took a sip of his own shake and when you tried to refuse, he pouted and put the straw up to your lips and was so cute you couldn’t refuse. You had to stay on his good side tonight, even if it meant you’d be a bit sick from over-eating later.
As you caved and began to drink your shake, a smirk on Youngjae’s face widened to a devious grin as he quickly looked away and got up to clear the rest of the table. 
“I’ll be right back,” He speak-sang as he headed over towards the food line again. 
"You better not be getting more food!” You yelled at him as playfully as you could, “I'm so full, I can't take it" You thought you heard Youngjae whine or moan at that comment and you were confused. "I’m serious, Youngjae! I can feel everything inside me wanting to come back out." 
Youngjae said something to the cafeteria worker and she nodded before leaving. You realized then that the cafeteria was completely empty except for you and Youngjae. He slowly walked over to you and placed a gentle hand on your distended belly.
"My good girl ate every single bite without a serious complaint," Youngjae says as he leans in and kisses your neck, nipping a little. “Let’s go back to my room for a bit, we can have some more fun.”
You tried to get up and realized you were so full you were struggling to get out of the cafeteria bench. 
“Let me carry you.” He whispered as his lips ghosted your ear. He reached down and picked you up, taking you out of the cafeteria. You were sleepy from the food and were drifting off in the warmth of his arms as he took you to his room. 
**
You woke up in shock, not knowing how much time had passed. You were in Youngjae’s room, and you went to call out to him, only to realize that there was something in your mouth and you couldn’t speak. You were still fully clothed, but your hands and legs were also tied to his bed. 
“Welcome back,” Youngjae smirked as he stood before you in just low sitting sweat pants. “You were so cute, I decided not to wake you. It’s only been like 20 minutes.” He laughed as his eyes wandered your body. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss on your bloated belly. “I’m amazed you could eat that much, I didn’t think I’d get you to eat even half of it.” He winked at you before fidgeting with something next to the bed. “My powers of persuasion must be better than I thought.” 
You were confused. This whole time, you were planning to seduce Youngjae, and he was doing the same to you?
“You know,” he started as he sat next to you on the bed, “I’ve always had a thing for you,” he laughed as he continued to fidget next to the bed, “I just knew that there was something about you I wanted to experience and I think I finally found it.”
He had something in his hand you couldn’t see. 
“I have a proposition for you my dear,” he smiled, “I want to play with you more. Push your limits. Do you trust me?” He asked, a spark of danger in his eyes. 
You could nod or shake your head. If you agree god knows what he’ll do to you, but if you say no, you won’t see the other side of him.
You think about it for a moment, but remember that the agency you actually work for has trained you to do anything that the mission requires.
You nod your head, nervous but excited to see this side of Mr. Sunshine. Youngjae smirked as he held up a tube that was attached to a nearby faucet. 
He lowered the hose into your mouth and you heard some clicking noises as he clipped it into place so you couldn’t spit it out. He carefully guided the hose down down your throat, “We can’t have you drowning,” he smiled as he did some final adjustments to the tools attached to the tube. 
“Here we go,” he smiled brightly as he turned on the faucet, causing the slightly warm water to go down your throat and into your already bloated stomach.
You grunted in confusion as the water began to force its way into you. You didn’t have to do much work of swallowing the water, as the position of the hose did that for you. It just kept going, filling you up.
You could see your stomach starting to swell even more as Youngjae licked his lips, his erection becoming more noticeable in his pants.
A wave of nausea hit you, signaling that your stomach was starting to reach its max capacity, but as Youngjae saw you squirm, he massaged your belly and the sensation passed with time. You didn’t think you could take anymore and tried to spit out the hose, but you couldn’t.
Youngjae chuckled evilly, laying his hands on your stomach, feeling it rise as it began to stretch more to accommodate the water. Soon your skirt was tearing at the seams and your shirt was stretched farther than you thought it could. You kept squirming against the tube trying to get it out, but Youngjae made no movements to stop the water from flowing. 
“We can get you a bit bigger before we shut it off.” He said as his eyes wandered over your body. You didn’t believe him, when you started the evening you had a nearly flat stomach, and you now looked nearly 3 months pregnant. 
You could see Youngjae’s cock twitch under his pants and he moved under your skirt, sticking his fingers inside of you and stretching you out, causing a moan to escape your lips. He removed his sweatpants and then grabbed on to both of your legs and put the tip of his manhood between your legs. 
“Ready for what I’ve always wanted to do with you?” he smirked as he sheathed his throbbing cock in your heat. You moaned in both pain and pleasure as Youngjae stilled to catch his breath.
“Jesus you’re fucking tight. You never get dick before?” He grunted as he thrusted into you again.
You could feel the water move through to your intestinal tract, causing  you to swell even more. 
“Ahhh God damn, loosen up baby girl, you’re gonna snap me in two” he chuckled as he thrusted into you again and again.
Your belly now bulged out much farther than you had ever thought it could, and it began to truly ache from the pressure inside. It felt like being a living water balloon. 
Youngjae’s eyes were locked on your belly, it looked as if you were closer to 6 months pregnant now and you really didn’t think you could stretch any more.
“Ahhh  good girl…That’s it…” he moaned, rubbing his veiny hands against your huge, distended tummy. The strain of the stretch was evident on both the taut skin of your belly, and the pained expression on your face. You breathed heavily through your nostrils, a sharp stabbing sensation running through your torso.
“What’s the matter, getting a little tight for you?” He chuckled as he pulled  out and shut off the hose, removing it from your mouth. “We don’t want you popping now do we.” He took the tube and clamp out of your mouth and roughly kissed you as he picked up speed. This time, with no break between the thrusts, he began a solid rhythm. Your bodies met and smacked, your overly full belly jiggled with each thrust, the water in you sloshing about with the rough pace Youngjae was setting. 
Youngjae thrusted faster and deeper. “That’s my girl. Nice and big for me.” He kept running his hands over your belly. “If we do this again I know I can get you bigger next time.” He licked his lips as he kept going, the fullness causing friction that was bringing you to your edge. 
Your orgasm suddenly hit you hard and Youngjae let your clenching heat bring him almost to his release. He pulled out at the last minute and came all over your large belly. 
After catching his breath, he licked his cum off of you and undid your restraints. “Do you want help to your room? You can’t stay here tonight.” He looked distant now, and helped walk you to your room down the hall, your legs too weak to support your body on their own. 
Youngjae practically threw you on the bed before walking away, “I’ll tell the others you are sick tomorrow. You’ll be back to normal in a day or so.” His tone was so cold and uncaring. You couldn’t believe that the man who was seemingly so sweet before was actually so rough. 
You hugged yourself, knowing that you’d be horribly sick tomorrow and would have to take a day off from your plan to seduce G7. You’d just have to double up one day to make up for it. This wasn’t the plan, but you had to think on the fly. That’s what the agency paid you for.
This was miserable, but you now knew that Youngjae was too dark to save. Anyone who can flip personalities that quickly isn’t stable enough to re-train. One day of hell to get that valuable information was worth it. 
One other thing you did know for sure… a trip to see the gang doctor wouldn’t be so far-fetched after taking a day off for an upset stomach.
Park Jinyoung. You’re next. 
_______________________________________________________________________
Hello My Lovelies!!
Chapter 2 down! 
Sorry if this kink isn’t your thing. I learned while researching this that it is definitely not mine lol. I think this one is the most unconventional of all of the kinks I chose for this smut series, so I hope you stick with me on this project and know that there are other kinks to come!
What do we think about Dr. Jinyoung? Will he be Light or Dark? Let me know!! I love hearing everyone's opinions.
~LoLo
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