#fork feeder

[ofallthingsnasty]

pairing: sanji x f!reader tags: fat reader, mentions of feederism (but it's just a misunderstanding, nothing malicious is happening here!), food, crack treated seriously, fluff, minors dni word count: 1.4k note: months ago i had a thought about sanji getting hard watching you eat - because of his trauma, him being himself, you just being too cute while enjoying his creations- and i just needed to flesh it out a little further.

It’s entirely too obvious.

You’ve been with the Straw Hats for a few weeks now, and even though you’re still getting used to them - there is a certain habit unique to one member in particular that you have recognized by now. The cook likes to watch you eat.  A lot. 

It’s no secret that he likes to watch in general - not with the way he’s dancing around you and the other two women, all smiles and overly polite gestures - but you’ve noticed how peculiar he gets whenever meals are served. And really, at first you thought he was just scoping you out; knowingly smiling at him whenever he hesitantly placed a larger-than-average portion in front of you. Ah, you mused, his eyes are working, as is his brain. Giving the fat one more to eat is sensible, after all, seeing as you do need more energy to maintain your physique compared to a thinner woman. Really, you thought he was just trying to get to know you and your habits better - figuring out if you were a snacker or more of a main meal girl, seeing if you’d be too shy to eat your share in front of others or maybe even take offense when presented with more. 

But after some days (weeks at most), that little scouting mission should have been successful - only he keeps watching with the same intensity as he did when you first parted your lips to spoon one of his creations in between them. And watching. And watching. (Staring?)

A curiously tilted head while you take your knife and fork to a fine cut of meat, a lingering glance while you carefully scoop the top off a late-afternoon dessert on deck, a warm smile, a trill, even, when your face lights up at omelets early in the morning. 

Always waiting. Always holding his breath. Always, well, watching.

How peculiar. By now you’ve figured out that he not only observes until you comment on his cooking. It goes beyond kind words and blissful smiles, so it’s not that he wants praise - no, he keeps watching well after that obligatory “oh, this is so good, Sanji” and stays at it. It’s not to fish for compliments and it’s not to get a better glimpse at your eating habits. With both of those possibilities ruled out, it leaves very few other options - and not all of them pleasant, you realize. What if he is one of those guys who gets off on feeding you fatter and fatter; who sees you as an easy target as you are already big? It doesn’t suit him, not at all, but what do you know? You’ve never met one of them in your years of travel, just heard the same old warning every fat girl is given once she reaches a certain age. 

And it weighs on your mind.

Another three meals and half a dessert and you find it sours your stomach, actually. The thought is like poison once it has crossed you; and it taints every beautiful dish he plates for you, makes them all taste hollow. You can’t leave it up to speculation, you think, you have to know - have to know what you’re working with, at the very least. Maybe it’s the pie that he’s worked on so diligently that you feel is too nice to be tainted by an aftertaste; maybe it’s the fact that you can’t possibly spend another minute having a question burning through your stomach. It doesn’t matter, because at the second half of your dessert, you purse your lips and lean over the table shared between you two, that is so conveniently bare of any other of your crew. Now or never, you think, and dig into the crinkly dough again.

“Sanji, can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t even blink as he replies, with a tone that makes you feel like he has waited all of his life just to entertain one of your sudden whimsies. “Of course, my love. Anything.”

You whole-heartedly believe that.

“Hm”, you hum, then take another mouthful of pie. To bide time. To test a hypothesis.

As always, his eyes dip down with your dessert spoon, downright glittering as he observes. You almost pity him, knowing full-well that you’ll be taking away a good chunk of carefree fun he has had with this little quirk during all this time.

 You smile innocently as you swallow and let the piece of cutlery pop out of your mouth, ready for your attack.

“You watch me.”  It’s not the question you asked him for, it’s a statement. Said while you stare at your reflection behind fine, silver scratches in the metal. “You like to watch me eat, don’t you?”.

When you look up, he’s gone from a healthy, rosy complexion to beet-red. Like the kid getting caught with one hand already in the cookie jar, he just stares back at you, eyes about as wide as the plate your pie had been served on. He stutters. Then reaches to loosen his tie. And stutters some more. 

“I-”, he says, the first coherent word he has been able to push out, while you push in another bit of caramelized apple smothered in cream.

“It’s not like that-”

Oh, so he knows what you’re hinting at. You briefly wonder if he has had this conversation before. 

“Like what?”, you smile, feeling like you should play it a little cruel all of a sudden. “Enlighten me, Sanji.”

It’s what he deserves, you think. To have to sweat a little, to have to find his way out of this conversation in a way that leaves his reputation intact. 

“I’m not a freak- Really-”, he stutters, all usual grandeur gone. “I’m not- I’m not into watching you eat, if it’s what you’re implying.”

You can’t help but quirk a brow at that. Definitely has had this conversation before. When you don’t placate him - just take another bite of apple pie while he loosens his tie further to alleviate some of the embarrassment - it almost squeaks out of him.

“I swear, I can explain myself, darling!”

It’s said with so much desperation and pain it makes your eyes snap up to a beyond flustered Sanji who might just be this close to tears. Earnest. A little pathetic. Cute. And still, you don’t have it in you to release him just yet. Instead, you lean over and curl one finger underneath your chin with an aloof ‘Oh?’.

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. His shoulders sag with actual relief, he sighs - and then he tells you all about it. About the All Blue. The Orbit. Red-Leg Zeff. The shipwreck. The hunger. The way it shaped him into what he has become today - it seems like there is more but you don’t dwell on it, don’t try to get further. You simply listen and nod and hang on every word that leaves his mouth, genuinely shocked at the suffering he has lived through. 

The plate in front of you is long empty when he comes to the conclusion of his little tale and blushes like a schoolboy as he bares his soul to you, so uncharacteristically serious it makes you feel somehow special, as though this side of him is one you rarely get a glance at. 

“It’s good to know my friends are fed and safe. You, too”, he mumbles, looking so small, so vulnerable. “I don't ever want you to go hungry. And as long as I am able to, you never will. I promise you that.” He says it with so much fire it makes you swallow. He truly means it, it’s not some made-up front, some poor excuse.  It still leaves questions to be answered but you don’t ask them, content with letting him cheat the gallows tonight. Why don’t you watch Luffy in that way? Zoro? Why do you linger by my side the longest, not Robin’s, not Nami’s? 

Thoughts are swirling in both of your heads, you can tell - you desperately want to say something, maybe even apologize, while he still grapples with all he has just shared. In the end, you decide against it - your suspicion was fair, you think, and Sanji isn’t exactly the definition of subtle about his little peculiarities. 

Instead, you lean over to him, cleavage spilling over two folded arms, while your dominant hand grabs his. You smile at him and he returns it eagerly, one fluttering eyelash away from slipping back into his old self at the sight in front of him.

The best defense is a good offense, you wager.

“So no food in bed?”

[birinboom]

Lazy Summer Morning

Umemiya Hajime x Reader

Self-indulgent, domestic fluff, established relationship, pet names (sweet cheeks), aged up characters 🌸 870 words

It’s early morning. The sun is only just peeking over the neighbor’s roof, casting its watery light into your kitchen. A mist hangs low over the garden, swirling lazily between the raised vegetable beds. The windows are open wide in the hopes of catching a cool breeze before the summer heat becomes unbearable. Birds are singing in the trees, their song mixing with Hajime’s off-key humming as he stands in front of the stove, hotcakes sizzling on the griddle.

You’ve got coffee brewing, and now you’re busying yourself with anything you can think of, cleaning up the few dishes forgotten the night before, straightening the blanket on the couch which your cat pulled down and turned into a rumpled nest, anything you can think of to pass the time. Your gaze passes the two small bowls of fresh fruit on the counter and your stomach growls impatiently.

Almost as if on cue, Hajime appears behind you.

“Here!” he grins, holding out a fork, a piece of one finished hotcake skewered on it. “Lemme know how they are.”

Judging from the crumbs around his lips, he knows exactly how they are. Still, if you can get to taste one early, you won’t complain.

You open your mouth, waiting. Hajime’s smile softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He brings the fork closer.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

You briefly blow on the hotcake before closing your lips around the fork. Pulling away, you start chewing, letting out a hum of pleasure as the taste washes over your tongue.

“It’s so fluffy! But not sweet enough.”

Hajime beams at you. “That’s what the syrup is for. Can’t have it be too sweet.” Leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he adds, “Not like you, sweet cheeks.”

His lips leave a sweet, sticky residue behind as he returns to the kitchen. What else has he been sampling, you wonder, licking at your lips.

“How much longer?” you ask, following him.

“Couple of minutes, why?”

You slip your feet into a pair of sandals. “I’m gonna refill the bird feeders real quick.”

Opening the hallway closet, you pick up the bag of seeds and dried fruit. It’s not really, truly necessary to feed the birds at this time of year. But a few still show up to the feeders, so you continue to feed them. And you like to think that feeding them in the summer makes them return in the winter, adding a few much needed pops of color to the garden.

Bag nestled in the crook of your arm, you slip out the kitchen door, past the grill you bought Hajime as an anniversary gift. He’s been using it every weekend since then, often inviting friends and family over for dinner. It’s been one of the busier summers you’ve had, but it’s been a blast so far.

You turn to look at him through the open kitchen window. His back is towards you, one hand on his hip as he flips a hotcake. He’s switched to whistling, you realize. A smile crosses your face. How did you ever get so lucky?

You’re standing at the sink, rinsing the last few soap suds off the metal. Hajime, done drying the dishes, comes up behind you, strong arms encircling your waist. He’s slung the wet dish towel over his shoulder. You can feel the water seeping into your shirt as he presses against your back. 

“That’s wet!” you laugh.

He pulls the towel off his shoulder, flinging it onto the counter, before leaning against your back once more, chin coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“Better?” he asks.

“Still wet,” you reply, rinsing your hands. “But better, yeah.”

Hajime presses his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. “I’ve missed these lazy mornings.”

“Me too,” you say, looking out at the serene garden. There’s always so much to do between jobs, commute, and chores. But not today. You deep cleaned and did laundry yesterday. The fridge is reasonably full. No pressing errands to run. Even the garden has been mostly dealt with, the weeds pulled recently. Watering has to wait until after sunset. You need to harvest some veggies for dinner, but that’s still hours away.

“What do you want to do today?” you ask. 

Hajime chuckles lightly. “Nap in the hammock, maybe? I’m fine with anything as long as I’m with you.” Then he hugs you closer to him. “I love you, y’know,” he mumbles into your ear.

You can’t help but smile as you turn. Hearing him say those three words still makes your heart skip a beat.

“Oh wow!” you laugh, turning to face him, your arms coming up to rest around his neck. “I had no idea you felt that way!”

Pale eyebrows briefly rise in mock surprise before Hajime’s face splits into that bright, boyish smile that made you fall for him all those years ago. He knows how weak it makes you a little too well. 

“No? I never told you? Not even on our wedding day? Shame on me!” Leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, his smile softening, he adds, “Guess I’d better make sure you’ll never forget.”

Then he kisses you.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[allfryam]

feeder for president 3: Mike’s story part 2

Mike and Hayden had decided to do their all-day dining hall excursion every Friday. Neither of them had classes and it was really the only time they got to talk to each other. Mike was really liking that part in particular. Spending all that time with Hayden had made Mike realize he started developing a little crush. Hayden had come out as gay in junior year of high school, but Mike had never told anyone he was into guys. He would catch himself staring at attractive guys in his class, and always get really nervous around them.

Mike’s weight was continually increasing by the time he arrived home for thanksgiving. He had gained almost 20 pounds since he turned 18, and most of it was in his gut. His abs were completely gone, replaced by a protruding round belly. In tighter shirts, you could even see his deepening belly button crater.

a few years ago, if a kid had come home from college having gained weight, he would be teased by his family and friends and be told to lay off the snacks or something. But with the new law, all that changed. Not a word was said to Mike about his growing belly. He wasn’t even the only one that had shown up rounder than last year. His cousin Chad was a few months older than him and he had already passed the 25 pound threshold. His tight button up looked like it was about to burst at the seems trying to hold back his gut. Mike’s dad had always had a bit of the ex-jock look, but now, his gut was huge and round. He had gone from former athlete to southern truck driver that eats at greasy diners for every meal.

Mike’s family had prepared a massive spread of food for thanksgiving, and Mike was ecstatic. He loaded his plate high with turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, Mac and cheese, potato salad, and ham. He and the rest of his family dug in, tearing through the feast. Mike excused himself to loosen his belt after he had finished his first plate. Chad was on his second plate when a loud “POP!” Came from his side of the table. The straining buttons on his shirt had finally given up and released Chad's bloated stomach. He hardly seemed to care as he continued to gorge himself. After his third plate, Mike had to tap out. He leaned back in his chair and his shirt rode up a bit to reveal Mike’s swollen belly. Mike had worn a stretchy polo shirt so he wouldn’t suffer the same fate as Chad. As the rest of his family finished up, rubbing their bellies to help with the pain of being full, Mike’s dad called, “who wants dessert?” After a few groans, the family eventually made their way back into the kitchen to load up their plates once more. Pies, cakes, cookies, lemon bars, brownies, ice cream. They dug in and enjoyed every last bite. The crumbs and small pieces that had been falling off of Chad’s fork had been landing on the crest of his round belly throughout dinner. “Saving some for later Chad?” Mike chuckled. Chad looked down and seemed surprised, as if he had no idea he was dropping food onto himself. He swiftly grabbed his fork and scooped it back into his mouth.

Mike arrived back on campus bigger than ever. He stood in his underwear admiring his new gut in the mirror. He grabbed it with both hands and shook it gently. It jiggled and grumbled with hunger. Mike’s appetite had been increasing rapidly over the last few months. He had always been able to eat a decent amount of food, but now his appetite seemed limitless. He could spend the entire day stuffing his face and never feel full. Apparently Hayden was having the same problem. He had come back from Thanksgiving break looking huge. His round gut was the first thing to enter a room, stating its presence with each step Hayden took. Even his biggest hoodies started to look tight. Mike blushed just thinking about him.

one day, after coming back from a long day of classes, Hayden ran into the dorm looking worried. “What’s wrong dude?” Mike asked. “I’ve been stressed with exams all day and I’ve hardly eaten anything!” Hayden cried. The boys rushed down to the dining hall and brought a bunch of food back to their room. Hayden sat down on the bed and ripped off his tight shirt and unbuttoned his pants. “Okay, start feeding me. It’ll be faster that way.” Hayden said. Mike blushed but quickly agreed and began stuffing Hayden’s mouth full of pizza. He just leaned back with his mouth wide open, waiting for more food. Hayden kept groaning as his mouth was constantly chewing the mountain of food. Mike didn’t hesitate to keep shoving more food in. He knew Hayden could handle it. After the feeding, Hayden fell backwards on to his bed and let out a huge burp. “Thanks dude. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” Hayden said between breaths. Mike’s eyes grew wide. He hesitated for a second but then he quickly moved in and kissed Hayden passionately. Hayden was shocked at first but didn’t pull away. The two boys continued to kiss and Hayden started taking off mikes clothes. The boys fucked passionately and their full bellies jiggled with each thrust.

the boys began dating and have been stuffing each other for months now. Mike has made it his personal mission to catch up to Hayden. It’s been slow but he’s starting to plump up way faster than him. When the end of freshman year arrived, Hayden had gained 45 pounds in his first year under the new law. The $2000 check he got in the mail made him want to gain even more next year. Mikes birthday was only a week away and he was determined to beat Hayden. He was up 36 pounds since he turned 18. 9 pounds in 7 days shouldn’t be that hard. Right?

Mike awoke like any other day, rolling groggily out of bed, slowly trudging into the kitchen still in his underwear. He pulled out a box of fruit loops and a large mixing bowl. He grabbed the gallon of milk from the fridge and his mom’s big ladle. He ate the entire box of cereal for breakfast. But he wasn’t finished yet. While he was scooping mouthfuls of sugary cereal into his mouth, his dad was making pancakes. After finishing the cereal and chugging the leftover milk in the bowl, Mike made a plate of his dad’s pancakes. He stacked them high and smothered them with syrup. They looked like something strait out of a cartoon. He practically inhaled the pancakes before he could even taste them. On his way to work, he grabbed a dozen donuts to finish off his breakfast. He ate them in his car before walking into work. Boston cream, chocolate sprinkled, strawberry, glazed, blueberry, jelly filled. He couldn’t get enough. At work, he knew he would get hungry again before lunch, so he packed himself some brunch. A triple decker pb and j and a family sized bag of Doritos should do the trick. For lunch, Mike met up with Hayden at their favorite diner down the street: patsy’s. Mike ordered the triple smashburger, two slices of pepperoni pizza, a plate of chicken tenders, nachos, and a slice of each of their famous pies. He also grabbed a couple extra slices of pie in case he got hungry again before dinner. He did. For dinner, he opted for the all you can eat buffet downtown. He spent a few hours eating like it was his last day on earth, shoving food down his throat as frantically as possible, then leaning back and burping to make room for more. Just before he went to bed, he chugged one of his homemade weight gain shakes. He heard eating a lot of calories before bedtime was the best way to store extra weight, so he always tried to drink his weight gain shake when he started feeling tired. This cycle continued throughout the week until it was time for the weigh in. Mike chugged one of his shakes and nervously stepped onto the scale. Mike’s eyes grew wide as he looked at the number. He was up 52 pounds. He gained 16 pounds in 7 days. He immediately called Hayden to brag.

final body update:

Mike turned 18 felling great. He was a lean 157 pounds, and it was all muscle. His sharp jawline only made hotter by his defined abs and tight ass. His clothes are loose on his small frame, and he has to wear a belt to hold up his pants. But on his 19th birthday, Mike had weighed in at a hearty 209 pounds. His perfect abs were a thing of the past, replaced by his ever expanding belly. It was round and firm, just like his father’s. His tight ass had ballooned into two pudgy balls that jiggled with each step. His sharp jawline grew into a nice double chin, filling out his cheeks and his neck. His once loose clothes have become tight, especially in the stomach area. All shirts with buttons have either been ripped open or the buttons look like they could fly off and his someone. He didn’t need to wear a belt for a while due to his expanding waistline, but as he continued to grow, most pants with buttons had become impossible to put on.

the end.

I won’t continue this story right now, but if there’s enough interest, maybe we can check up on these two boys in the future. Leave theories on the future of their relationship in the comments!

[thecrownestt]

Imagine moving to a new home and the front door looks like this.

Some of you are no more than a few months away from that doorway being no less passable than the brick around it.

Think about how quick that really is. How many of you have scrolled past some women since opening tumblr that wouldn't fit? Are you really that far off?

You'd be committed to house arrest well before you ever planned. Shouldn't that be reserved for someone way past your size? No way is your perception of how big you've gotten even close to saying "I'm housebound. Trapped. Never to squeeze out into the world again."

Just think about how horrifying those first meals would be in such a home. Too smitten to say no to the feeder who is blissfully ignorant to the panic of what each binge session is bringing. The thought of "I'm not ready for this, I have a life to live! Put the fork down! It's already been a week since I last tried the doorway! What happens if I'm too much for it now?! Think about your future, your life, how much you haven't seen or done!"

Too late, fatass. Welcome to your new forever home.

[ghoularaki]

baby's breath | 7

↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 5,939

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap. NSFW (omorashi, slight feederism)

Playing it safe, within the time you were allowed to sleep on the couch, you dared not go forth with your plan. And thank god you didn’t since Levi got into the habit to come down stairs a couple times in the night. This was how you learned how much of an insomniac Levi was. Most nights he would leave you be and would make his tea. Though last night, he sat on the couch like he did over a week ago. Or at least you thought it had been. Time passed so differently here. All you knew was July quickly approached with the temperature rising.

A routine had been set. During the day Levi watched over you while Erwin kept up the facade of a professor. The couple days he came home late you quickly learned wasn’t because of paperwork, but taking Levi’s place to ‘keep people in line.’ Curiosity ate away at you to know what exactly they did behind the scenes. Though, for your sanity you didn’t ask questions.

Levi’s previous threat of you not being Erwin’s first stray never left your brain. How long before you were to be discarded like a broken doll? Or was Levi lying out of his ass to keep you in line? Try as you might, you couldn’t stop the questions swirling around your head. Even if they sent you in a frenzy, you wanted to be prepared for anything to happen.

But, surprisingly, everything lulled. Your head had gotten significantly better. You barely had any headaches now and you were able to watch the TV in small doses. Despite feeling better, you refused to let the two of them know how much better you were. Feigning weakness to feed into Erwin’s want to baby you and to have Levi get off your back, you played dead like a possum.

Sun slowly slipped down the sky like an exposed yolk. Twilight crept into the living room where you sat, observing Levi making dinner for you three. Over the course of the week or so you were recovering, you were able to eat at the table. When Erwin would come home late into the night, Levi let you sit in your own chair. Skeptical of him, you tried to subtly side-eye him, but he easily caught it.

“You’re not a child,” He had said.

His words were true, though you didn’t really believe him. Levi sure did treat you like a incompetent child. Especially when he let you eat by yourself he made a comment not to choke. You had gripped your plastic fork (he wasn’t stupid enough to give you something you could actually hurt him with) to conceal your rage. Maybe he said it to get under your skin. It only served to vex you more that it had worked.

Fiddling with the TV remote, you watched the cartoon displayed on the screen. So lost in thought, you almost didn’t hear the sound of the locks being turned. Head shooting up, you watched Erwin walk through the door, suitcase in hand. Exhaustion was apparent on his face.

Toeing off his dress shoes inside the mudroom, he walked further into the home. Walking past you, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. Perplexion physically formed on your face. Turning your body on the couch, you watched Erwin’s hunched, broad shoulders move towards his office. Glasses slipping off his face, from deep in the room you hear him throw them onto his desk.

Locking eyes with Levi, the man didn’t offer you any resolve, going back to stirring the food in the pan.

“Make yourself useful and set the table,” He called out to you.

Still confused, you followed the order, not wanting to ire the other man in the house. The couch creaked as you got up and shuffled over to the kitchen. Heart in your throat, you walked past Levi to reach into the cabinet. When everyone was awake, the men kept them unlocked. What really could you do with Levi breathing down your neck.

Opening the cabinet, you reached for three plates.

“Only grab two.”

Those simple words had anger grip you. You always forgot when Erwin was home what little autonomy you had, vanished. Sure, Levi had beaten and raped you, but at least he didn’t touch you since then. If anything it seemed he avoided any skin contact.

Moving your fingers to take the dishes, you clutched them in your hands and went towards the table. The resilient, but the stupid part of you wanted to break the plates and pierce Levi in the side of his throat. He could never touch you again, but his hands will be imprinted on you for a lifetime. You wanted to scar him as he did you.

You placed the plates on the table.

Sliding one at the head of the table and then one at side, you went to the drawers to grab cutlery. Forks and knives in hand, you repeated the motion. You did the same with the cups.

Standing in the middle of the dining room, you waited for an order. Unease settled in your gut. The routine had been broken. Erwin always acknowledged you when he got home and Levi never let you touch the dishes. Something bad was going to happen to you. They couldn’t have known your plan already, could they? You were only joking when you thought Levi could read your mind.

You tried to muffle your stuttering breaths. Nostrils flared, you stared at the ground with watering eyes. A panic attack about to overtake you, you wanted to vomit. You weren’t even here for more than ten days and you were on the verge of insanity. Such a small part of you wanted to go back to the old days where you considered the men father figures, but the bigger part wanted to slit their throats in their sleep.

Shutting down, you sucked in your tears and disassociated.

The burner flicked off with a click and Levi pivoted to look at you still staring at the floor. A haunting blank expression spread on your visage. He snapped his fingers in front of your face and you barely registered it. Slowly you looked up at him.

“What the fuck is up with you?” He gruffly asked, brow furrowed.

You shrugged, looking very similar to the petulant child he frequently called you. He opened his mouth to question you further, but Erwin lumbered into the room. His expression steely.

Still ignoring you, he grabbed his plate and put a hefty amount of the food onto the plate. With the filled water pitcher at the table, he poured enough water, it almost spilled over the brim. Following his movement, Levi grabbed his plate and put a significantly less amount.

“Princess, come.”

Beckoned like a dog, you hesitantly stumbled closer. Gently, Erwin placed you on his lap. Tugging you closer, you sat until your back was flushed to his front. Entangled in his form, you felt so tiny, so weak. One arm slung across your waist, the way his bicep flexed against your side, you knew Erwin’s strength. Like Levi, he could easily crush you.

Stabbing his fork into his food, he elegantly brought it up and wrapped his lips around it. After one bite, Erwin put his fork down and turned you around slightly. Grabbing the nearly spilling cup, he brought it up to you.

“Can you do me a favor and drink this all for me?” He posed it as a question, but you knew a demand when you heard one.

Gulping, you dared to ask, “Why?”

Blithely smiling, he said, “I can’t make sure my little girl is hydrated? We have to make sure you get better as quickly as possible.”

Uncomfortable, you squirmed and then hissed when his hand dug into your side. For some reason, your eyes bounced to Levi who watched on, eating his food without a care. Suspicious, you go to take the glass from Erwin, but he jerked it back and tsked at you.

Dropping your hands, you let him put the cold glass to your lips. Shuttering, you willed away the memories begging to surface. You were no longer in the basement, you were no longer in the basement, you were no longer in the basement.

Not realizing how thirsty you were, you swallowed half of the cup before trying to pull away. Erwin followed your head.

“Uh uh, drink all of it.”

Clenching your eyes, you wrapped your hands around his wrist to stabilize yourself. Quickly you consumed all the cold water that laid heavy in your stomach. Once the cup no longer sat on your lips, you gulped any air you could.

The glass clinked around the table. Rubbing your side as encouragement, Erwin poured more water into the cup. More nervous than ever, you tried to claw at the arm digging into your ribs.

“Have your tantrum now because I won’t tolerate it soon enough,” Erwin’s tone pierced you.

He had gone back to eating. After a couple of bites, he offered you some. Stomach already full from the water and anxiety, you turned away. Though he quickly gripped your jaw and forced you towards him. Hands free, you attempted to slap his wrist away. His fingertips squeezed your mandible until your mouth dropped from the pain. Shoving a forkful of food into the cavity, he loosely cradled your jaw to make sure you chewed.

Glare strewn across your face, you ground the food and swallowed. “I hate you.”

Erwin brought another forkful to his own lips and stared you down as he chewed. He looked at you as if you were a toddler throwing a fit. A simple, blank expression rendered you on edge. Those deep blues analyzed your very being. Tearing you apart to a molecular level to see what made you tick.

Unnerved, you kept your hands curled in your lap. Stabbing more food, Erwin brought the food to your lips after his bite. You tried not to think of you sharing saliva with the man. Throughout dinner, Erwin didn’t take a sip of his drink. Erwin kept feeding himself and then you until three-fourths of the plate was empty. The water left stagnant in the cup.

Pausing in his eating, he went for the cup again and went towards your lips. If you drank the water, you surely would explode. Already full, you felt the tickle in your bladder telling you you needed the bathroom.

“E-erwin I can’t. I’m full,” Instinctively, you put your hands up to stop him.

The hand on your hips snaked up to grab your hand and forced your head still. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

You wanted so badly to cradle your head, his hand right where your healing wound sat. Sniffling your resolve, you dropped your hands and parted your lips. Cold glass touching you again, you tried to float away from the kitchen to somewhere, anywhere but here. Tipping the cup forward, you forcibly swallowed down all the water.

Your throat bobbed as you drank all you could. Once the very last drop sat in your stomach, you coughed and tried not to gag. Placing a hand over your mouth, you breathed through the nausea. Water pouring into the cup once again had a shutter running through you.

Erwin rubbed your back as you hunched over. He went back to eating. Once you calmed down, he tried to feed you once more. You were so full, you couldn’t take anymore or you would actually throw up.

“Please,” You pleaded. It fell upon deaf ears.

“Eat.”

Blatantly sobbing, Erwin took the opportunity to shovel the food into your mouth. You had no idea what warranted him being so cruel to you. Did he really find out you stole his glasses screwdriver? And if so, why won’t he tell you why he’s punishing you now?

Spiteful, you go to spit the food at him, but he slammed a hand over your mouth. His large hand encompassed all over your lower face, even your nose. Smothering you, you still refused to swallow. With a free hand, his fingers massaged your throat triggering your reflex. Ingesting the food, Erwin released you.

Cradling your stomach, you sagged into Erwin, in pain. Your stomach stuffed to the brim and pushing on your bladder, you felt the need to go. Fear gripped you as you had an inclination he wouldn’t let you off that easily.

Taking the last bites of food, the man reached for the glass. Already knowing what was going to happen, you thrusted yourself from his form and jumped from his lap. If you drank anymore you would pee yourself. Not being able to handle the humiliation of doing that again in the span of less than two weeks, you struggled.

Easily, he spun you in his lap so you were back to chest. His elbow held down your body as he tipped the glass in your mouth. His other hand pinched your nose so you had to imbibe every last drop. Digging your nails into his forearm, you tried to shake your head, but you were immobilized.

Once the glass sat on the table again, you coughed and gagged. Erwin engulfed your face once more and forced your head into his shoulder. “You throw any of it up and we will do this all over again.”

He let you settle until your tummy stopped flipping. Levi at this point got up and cleaned up dinner, not saying a word through the whole thing. Plates clattering in the sink made you jump. Staring at the ceiling, you tried not to focus on your stomach pressed down on your bladder.

Deeming you ready enough, Erwin picked you up quite awkwardly. He lifted you with just the arm wrapped around your waist, feet dangling. Like a child carrying a disgruntled cat. Taking you into the living room that Levi already sat in, Erwin placed you in the middle. The coffee table had been moved to the side and instead there was a mat with a paw print pattern. The paws were raised. He had your body sink on the mat, your knees taking the brunt of it. Under it, laid a puppy pad.

Fuck.

Kneeling on the mat, Erwin came to squat in front of you. He grabbed your hands and placed them on your knees.

“This is punishment for what you did to Levi.”

Your head sprung up and you seethed, “I already was punished.”

“That wasn’t punishment, that was Levi unable to handle his emotions,” Levi clicked his tongue from somewhere within the room. Erwin continued, “I have been lenient with you since you were injured, but you clearly are well enough considering you poked your nose in stuff that isn’t yours.”

Moving your focus to Levi, you snipped, “Snitch.”

“Not my fault you’re stupid enough to think I wouldn’t tell Erwin,” Both his face and tone flippant.

“Oh yeah I forgot how you’re his bitch—”

Levi’s face turned thunderous, but Erwin promptly slapped you. He barely hit you with any of his strength for the sake of your head. The action still had you reeling as your gaze dropped.

Gripping your jaw again, he kept eye contact. “Don’t squirm or go to the bathroom for an hour and then you will be forgiven. You will be given one warning. Don’t make me repeat myself more than once.”

Fisting your hands until your nails bit into your palms, you weighed the outcomes of behaving or not. Erwin didn’t leave any room to fuck up, he didn’t even say what would happen if you were unable to do the punishment. Plus, the mat already hurt your bare knees.

Exhaling to steel your nerves, you whispered, “Okay.”

Stroking your cheek with his thumb, he reminded you, “No squirming or going to the bathroom for an hour.”

At that he departed from your form. A spectacle in the middle of their living room, the men ignored you for the movie playing. Back facing the screen, you could only guess what entertained them from sounds alone.

The want to wiggle plagued you. Your body already ached from your overstuffed tummy and the grooves of the mat digging into your skin. The pain was minimal, but it itched at you. How you wanted to curl in and hug yourself. The need to vomit still hadn’t passed. Spine straight as a pole, you could only assume his command not to squirm included not moving from where he positioned you.

From where you sat, you watched the men sit on the couch. Bare of you, Levi and Erwin sat at the same couch. They were on opposite sides with no indication of it being for any bad reasons. Levi didn’t seem like the type to cuddle or touch in general. Erwin was a man of poise. If he craved touch, he didn’t seem to be the type to make it apparent. Well, in a normal context.

Here, in this house, he could reign down all his desires on you as he pleased. No different than a man of faith finally led a stray. No longer ignorant and free from his charm, Erwin held no respect for anyone but himself.

Your focus stayed on the space in between them. If they were going to ignore you, you would do the same. Channeling your willpower, you refused to cave. Despite Erwin’s command, you could sense he wanted you to fail. To embarrass yourself as you did Levi.

Resting his cheek against his fist with elbow sat on the arm of the couch, Levi glanced at you. From your peripheral, you saw him leisurely drinking in your form. If you weren’t so stubborn, you would have snapped at him that he’s enjoying this. He must be. You were like this because of him, because of Erwin.

Erwin huffed out a laugh at the TV. Clenching your fingers even tighter, your skin pinched between your nails. You hoped you would bleed. Your thighs started to cramp from being in the same position for who knows how long now. Every second passed slowly, like in molasses. The sticky residue had you wanting to stretch your legs.

Tiny divots imprinted into you. You didn’t know what made you more angry, the mat having pawprints on it or Erwin picked it because of that. Maybe it’s Levi who did since he did have an infinity to call you a bitch or a dog. How much did they have this prepared?

While lost in your thoughts, you felt a small wetness begin in your panties. Instantly you clenched your thighs and stood up straighter. Alright so trying not to pay attention to your bladder didn’t help you at all. Now you were very conscious of it. You didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

Instead of the sting in your knees, your brain flooded you with the ache in your intestines. With it in the forefront of your mind, you wanted to move. When you clenched your thighs, your knees moved slightly causing the sharp edge to dig in your cartilage. Subtly as you could, you shifted to get some sort of relief.

Somehow Erwin caught it.

“First and only warning, Princess.”

Luckily Levi made no comment to tempt you. Steeling yourself, you bit your lip. Still refuse to give the men the reaction they wanted, you didn’t stray from the space in between them. With no idea how much time had passed, you didn’t know how much longer you had. You regret not counting in your head the seconds. Sure, it would have been agonizing, but at least you knew when to give up.

Time sat like this, unmoving like your quivering form. Your toes started to curl in on themselves from the stretch. Squeezing your lids, the cramps in your legs, back and now your feet almost broke you. Laying on the couch for almost a week didn’t help with your stamina.

Body coiled tight like a violin string, your bladder screamed at you. It laid heavy on your other organs. More dribbled out of you and you wanted to screech. Why of all days did your own body betray you? Were you no better than an untrained puppy? Most adults couldn’t even go without a toilet and yet you were here, almost peeing yourself no better than a child. You seethed and scolded yourself for not being stronger.

“Times up, sweet girl,” Erwin’s voice pulled you from your stupor.

Head springing up, you stared at him as if he was lying. Even with those words, you didn’t get up. In this position for so long, your body crystallized. Erwin got up from the couch to get closer to you.

“Can I go now?”

“Go ahead,” He smiled down at you.

Relieved, you raised on your knees to get up slowly, but he clamped a hand on your shoulder and forced you back down.

Confused, you tried to pry away his enormous palm. Slumped on the ground, you were no longer on your knees but your legs to the side of you, your hip digging into the rim of the mat. Your fingers worthlessly scrambled against his to pull them backwards.

“I didn’t move, let me go!”

“I don’t remember saying you could use the bathroom, just not to squirm or go unless you wanted a harsher punishment.”

“You freak,” You barked and raised your hand to punch him in his dick.

Before you could, Levi came behind you and stopped you before you made it worse for yourself.

“Let the poor girl go, Erwin. Honestly I really don’t want to clean up the mess,” Levi sounded exasperated.

Nodding, Erwin let you go and you scrambled away from him. Your legs were pins and needles, stinging as you awkwardly stumbled into the bathroom. No different to a fawn finding its footing.

Behind you, Erwin huffed at Levi that he was merely teasing you. You could almost hear Levi rolling his eyes at the taller man.

Ripping the door open and slamming it closed, you really wish the bathroom had a lock. Finally on the toilet, you let yourself sag until your chest was at your knees. Stuttering breaths erupted from your lungs. The stress of today weighed on you. Muffling your sobs, you refused to move, not caring your panties and shorts hung around your ankles. The ache persisted in your tummy.

The door opened and shut a lot softer than when you shut it. From the barely there footsteps you assumed Levi joined you. Tilting your head up with a tearful glare, his expression stayed stoic.

“Do you need help?” His eyes look at the toilet paper.

Scoffing, you grabbed it yourself, “Don’t fucking coddle me.”

At that, he crossed his arms and leaned against the door, trapping you with him. Realizing how exposed you were, you finished your business and shoved your clothes over your pelvic bone. Getting up from the toilet, you reached behind you to pull the band over your butt. You refused to let him see you naked ever again. Even if it killed you.

Going to the sink, you stared at each other from the mirror. Flicking the water on, you squirt copious amounts of soap in your hands. Vigorously scrubbing, you let muscle memory overtake you as you watched Levi like a prey animal. Water rushing filled the empty silence.

“You’re not doing it correctly.” Pushing himself off the door, he stood behind you.

Wrapping his arms around yours, he took your hands in his. Compared to Erwin’s hands, his seemed almost delicate. Long, slim fingers with slender palms but still littered with calluses. His nails were well manicured, but you could tell he’s a man that used his hands often. Despite this, his still engulfed and cradled yours.

Gently, with his chin over your shoulder, he washed your own hands meticulously.

“Didn’t I say not to coddle me,” You muttered, too tired to actually fight.

“I don’t think you are in the position to tell me what to do,” His voice tickled your neck.

Still staring at him in the mirror, you spoke, “I forget that’s Erwin’s job.”

“I know what you are doing. Knock it off.”

Properly scolded, you looked down and watched how the warm water washed over you both. Hands thoroughly cleaned, Levi released you to let you both respectfully dry your hands. Finished before you, Levi grabbed your annoyingly pink toothbrush and just as annoyingly strawberry toothpaste tube.

The mirror shut with a muffled pop. Confused, you watched on as Levi squirted a hefty amount of toothpaste on the bristles. Wetting it under the water and flipping it back off, his left hand grabbed your jaw and massaged it open. Scared of a repeat of only mere hours ago, you try to tilt your head away. Levi was quick to redirect you.

In the mirror, he placed the toothbrush into your mouth. At first you thought he’s going to gag you, but instead he gently brushed your molars. Eyebrows twisted in perplexion, your eyes go cross-eyed as you stare at the brush in your palate. Memories of your first day trapped here ran through your head. The whole reason why you were punished. He must have been testing you. To see if you would be stupid enough to repeat the same mistake.

This time you will keep your teeth to yourself. For now.

Through the mirror, Levi didn't drift from your mouth. Extremely thorough with each tooth, he moved from one side to the other. Foamy, strawberry flavored drool spilled from your mouth and down onto the sink.

You whimpered at the sticky saliva paint on your chin. Levi paid no mind to it as he pinched your jaw to open your mouth further. With dexterity, he moved to your upper row of teeth, scrubbing away any imperfections. Too tired to really fight, you wrapped your hands around his forearms.

“Spit.”

Listening, you bent over and spat the toothpaste into the sink. Bringing you back up, he spoke again.

“Open, tongue out.”

Warmth filled your face. His words in different context sounded so lewd. His face didn’t portray how his words sounded. Reluctantly, you let your tongue lull out. Hand still on your face, he simply brushed your tongue.

Going deeper into the cavity, you gagged when he hit the back of your throat. He paused, but continued on. He kept the same pace with your tongue, attentive. The brush went too far and you gagged again.

“Spit,” he repeated.

Still queasy from earlier, you gladly did. If he kept hitting the back of your throat, you were going to throw up and you didn’t want him to brush your teeth, again.

Not moving from you quite yet, he rinsed off the brush and put it with the others in the holder. Hands on your shoulders, Levi spun you around slowly. Your grip on his forearms loosening. Grabbing a cloth, he wet it under the water and brought it to your chin. Gently he wiped away any residue.

“Messy,” He absentmindedly commented.

Levi finally let his arms drop. Locking gazes with you once more, he seemed to be… pleased.

The thought had fire sit in your chest. You didn’t want to ever make that man content or pleased with you. The mutual hatred kept your sanity not snapping like a thread. But you couldn’t handle more, so you let it be. Picked your battles.

“Come.”

Pulling completely away, he opened the bathroom door and expected you to follow. Dejectedly you stayed behind him. Instead of taking a right, he went to the left, further down the hall. Right where your room sat.

Pretending to be scared to go back inside and a little spoiled, you grabbed the hem of Levi’s shirt. “Wait!”

He stopped and glared at the hand tugging at him. “What?”

“I don’t want to go back in,” You mumbled.

“Too bad. Erwin spoiled you enough.” Levi grabbed the hand on his shirt and tugged you further down the hall.

You stumbled a little at the pull, but stayed silent otherwise. A tiny smile flinched on your lips before you snuffed it. You dared not look anything but dejected, Levi could sniff out when you were lying like a damn bloodhound.

Light footsteps carried you until you hit your bedroom, nothing out of place. The cage door open, waiting for your arrival. Firmly, Levi brought you to the cage and stuffed you inside. While going in he covered the wiring so your head didn’t hit the metal. There was no need to injure you further.

He closed you in and locked you inside with a snap of the key. The same key you kept seeing. One a bolder, safer night, you will go looking for the source of it. It had to be your ticket out of here.

Crouched at the door, Levi observed you, eyes squinted. “I know you’re up to something, whatever it is, stop it. Erwin only played nice because he’s worried about your concussion worsening.”

“I’m not up to anything,” You glared back. Liar.

“We’ll see about that. Don’t come crying to me when your Daddy beats your ass black and blue.” And with that, he withdrew from your cage and left you alone. He flicked the lights off and shut the door.

Finally alone, you crumpled into a ball and grabbed one of the plushies. Muffling your cries, you sobbed and sobbed until there was nothing left. Hours must have passed as you no longer heard the TV and the light in the hallway didn’t creep into the dimly lit room. Your stomach no longer hurt, at least some of the food digested. A spiteful part of you never wanted to eat again.

No sound bellowed in the house.

Not even the creaking of a bed above you. Patience sure was a virtue, but so was persistence. You couldn’t handle one more night here than needed. Plus Erwin and Levi—well at least Erwin—would think you would be licking your wounds too much to try anything.

Tearing yourself from the blankets and stuffing holding you down, you turn behind you and grab the teddy bear. Sitting up further, you dug your finger in the hole and found the screwdriver still in there. Relieved, you shakily smiled with a quivering exhale.

Shuffling over to the lock, you squeezed your fingers through the gaps and twisted the lock closer to you. It would have been easier if you could get your hands in between the bars, but alas.

The hooked metal strained against the wires. Your fingers pinched the actual lock while the hand with the screwdriver shimmied the shaft far enough inside. Ear close to the mechanism, you listened carefully for clicks. You didn’t even know if this would work, but you could only hope and pray. Pray to any god or deity listening to hear your pleas.

Lids closed, you twisted and turned the screwdriver. You were scared of it not working, but you were more scared of the tiny tool breaking inside the lock. Pushing away the thought, you focused harder. You spun and pulled, spun and pushed, spun and pulled until….

Click. … Click, click, snap.

Springing up, you stared at the lock and tugged on it. It came off. Holy fuck, it came off. Pulling the lock out of the hinges, you threw it behind you on the blankets and pushed open the door.

In disbelief, you numbly crawled out of the cage and further into the room. Learning your lesson, you were more aware of your footsteps. Still crawling to the door, you placed your ear against the slab of wood. The house was still barren of sound. Not even a breath.

Cautiously, you twisted the door and peeked your head out to see nothing in the dark, looming hallway. Now or never, you slipped through the crack and crouched upwards. Low to the ground, you took soft, slow footsteps. Passing the hallway that led to the stairs, you never let it out of your view until you efficiently crossed by it.

Exhales heavy in your chest, you dared not breathe until you were out of its line of sight. The opening into the living room, had you gently release some tension. You stopped at the archway and put your back to the wall, your body facing the living room. Peeking a head out, there’s no one on the couch nor in the kitchen. Safe—for now—you tip-toe ran towards the mudroom.

Kneeling at the small table, you quietly pulled the drawer open and grabbed the flashlight luckily still there. Closing it just as gently, you make sure no one stood behind you. Still in the clear, you got back up and raced towards the hallway window that faced the neighbor’s home.

Crouched at the window, your hands sweaty and clamped around the flashlight, you prayed for someone to be awake. With shaking hands, you turned behind just to be precautious and then stopped stalling. Flashlight in hand, your thumb went to the button at the bottom.

You clicked it on.

Hushed and under your breath, you said, “One. Two. Three. One… Two… Three… One. Two. Three.”

With each number you flicked the light on and off. Three short bursts of light, three long bursts, and then three short ones again. You prayed you were doing it correctly.

“S. O… S.”

You repeated this five times. Not wanting to test your luck, you stopped after the fifth time. In the abyss of the night, the only indicator where the neighbors home was the porch light on. Your eyes focused on your reflection in the window. Chills had your skin raise and you whipped around to see no one.

Trusting your intuition, you were out of time. On a time crunch, you go back to the table, careful not to let your anxiety cause you to get sloppy. Placing the flashlight where it was before, the draw shut with some resistance. You snarled at the wood to fucking work.

Tears bubbling at the apprehension, it finally closed. Heart in your ears, you raced back to your room, not leaving your crouch. You were able to make it to your door when the sound of someone moving sent you in overdrive.

Not daring to look behind you, you slipped into the crack you left and closed the door gently. A soft creak had your shoulder hunch to your ears, but you didn’t dwell on it.

Crawling to your cage, you shut the door and fumbled behind you. Grabbing the lock with slippery hands, you shoved your fingers in between the bars and made sure the lock’s front faced away from you. Snicking it closed, pounding footsteps lumbered down the stairs.

Erwin’s coming.

Twisting around, you plunged the screwdriver into the teddy bear and shoved it in its place. The footsteps went towards your door. Terrified, you threw your head onto the plushies and cradled it to your chest. Tossing a blanket over you, Erwin quietly opened your door.

Clenching your eyes closed, you prayed he wasn’t as perceptive as Levi. The man didn’t come fully in your room. He stood at the doorway before closing the door again. His footsteps went back down the hall and up the stairs.

Your lungs whistled from how long you trapped oxygen in your alveoli. Despite the terror, you grinned into the stuffed animal you hugged.

You did it. You fucking did it.

[juneknight]

.Be Lost. || 2.5

Chapter 1 | Chapter 1.5 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 2.5

Next chapter is the last.

*

His grin is broad, beatific. It turns teasing almost right away. He leans down and brushes his nose against yours before releasing your wrists and rolling off of you. 

“I want to be just friends for just a while longer,” he admits in a whisper. “Throughout dinner. There’s something important I need to tell you.” 

*

‘There’s something important I need to tell you’. Have more infamous words ever been spoken, besides ‘we need to talk’? His sentence infuses you with dread and a strange calm all at once. This is it. The other shoe is about to drop. Marc deciding that he doesn’t want to dominate you will be the best-case-scenario outcome. 

Worst case scenario? He’s already done too much with you to salvage the friendship, and you both will have to part ways. Maybe that’s what he meant by wanting to stay just friends for a while longer. All these thoughts spin in your brain like a cyclone, sucking up your sanity while you pick at your entree at the (expensive) restaurant Marc insisted on bringing you to for dinner. Your hand is clammy where you are clutching your fork. You consider stabbing yourself with it to end the dinner early. 

It isn’t the worst dinner you’ve ever had together (that honor goes to the miserable time you and Marc had tried double dating, each of you bringing a lackluster date and spending the whole time—as you understood it now—fuming when the other showed any hint of affection towards their partner). But this is close. So close. 

Even Marc seems nervous. He is quiet(er). He clears his throat every now and then like he is about to say something, but then just reaches for his wine and takes another sip. When he cuts himself off after one glass and moves on to water, he drinks nearly two entire glasses thanks to this procrastination-sipping. You want to scream. Go ahead and say it! Break my heart already! Just get it over with. 

When he insists on dessert, you can’t take it anymore. Over dark chocolate cake with chocolate ganache, you sit your fork down and say: 

“What is it?”

“Have you ever seen the birds outside your window?” he blurts out. You stare. He clears his throat. Another sip of water. “At your apartment. On your balcony, you have a bird feeder. I just—do you ever stop and watch the birds?” 

“Yes,” you say, twisting your napkin in your lap. “Hence the bird feeder. Why—?” 

“You have this one bird that comes back often. It’s a house sparrow—I looked it up. House sparrows are like most birds, where the males are all beautiful and the females are more plain. Except this one bird. She had a bib, like the males do, but her’s was a downy gray instead of black. She came back every day. Multiple times a day, sometimes. Maybe she had babies that she was raiding your feeder for, I don’t know. 

“But I started talking to her about you while you were gone. Because I missed you. And I always miss you when you go away during the winter, don’t get me wrong, but this time…Well I had to talk to that fucking bird, or I would have—yes, another water would be fine, thank you—” 

You glare at the waiter’s back, irritated by the interruption. Something about this strange tangent has your attention. Maybe it’s the serious expression in Marc’s eyes, marred only by a hint of something sharper. Desperation, maybe. Maybe that’s what makes his words string together, turns him into a rambler. Still, you would have him see this through. 

“Go on,“ you coax. 

“I started talking to that fucking bird, because I couldn’t call you all day, and if I didn’t talk to something, I’d go crazy. I told her all about you. The way your skin gets lit up at night when you fall asleep while we’re watching television, colors changing blue, red, brown, white with whatever is on the screen. I told her about how you can’t let your food groups touch when they’re on your plate. I told her how you laugh so hard sometimes that you snort, and that those are always my favorite laughs.” 

“This bird knows all my secrets then,” you murmur. “I hope she doesn’t work for the government.” 

“All birds work for the government. I told her about my day. Work. Friends. Traffic. Dreams. Besides our every-other-night phonecalls, this…fucking…bird was the highlight of my day. I mean that unirionically.” 

“I’m starting to get jealous.” 

“And then one day she was gone,” says Marc. “She missed the morning rush. I sat on your bed, looking out at the balcony, waiting. And she never came. She never came back. I didn’t realize it until sunset, when she’d missed dinner, that I’d wasted my entire day off waiting. That whatever happens to birds—wherever she went when she wasn’t with me—she was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

“That made me think of you. Going away from me, going wherever birds go. Taking all these pieces of me with you, and never coming back with them. You have those, you know. Pieces of me. So many pieces. I’d say that I have one last one to give you, but—” he snorts softly, looking down at his plate, “—you’ve had my heart already.

“And I don’t mind leaving them with you. I don’t mind you leaving. I know your work is important, and that you love it. I just want to know that you’ll always come back. I want you to have a reason to always come back—to me.”

“What are you saying?” you wonder, eyes wide as moons, mouth feeling a little numb. It almost sounds like he’s—

“I’m in love with you. I don’t want tonight to be a one-and-done, and I don’t just want the sex—yes, thank you, the check is fine—-” 

“I’m sorry,” you say to the waiter, holding up a finger. “Could you give us a moment without interruptions? Very important conversation. I apologize—thanks! You…you don’t want the sex?” 

“I don’t just want the sex. Important distinction,” says Marc. He laughs a little, but it sounds weak, punched-out. “You’re scaring me a little. Everytime I went over it in my head, you said it back straightaway. Then there was usually a spontaneous firework show, maybe some birds—” 

“Doves?”

“House sparrows.” 

“Marc—” you get shy suddenly. He’s opened himself up to you, fulfilled your wildest dreams (except the thought of Marc Spector loving you was so wild that it hadn’t even been in your dreams), but the idea of opening yourself up in return was terrifying. Couldn’t he just…tell? “Come on. You have to know…” 

Marc’s jaw gets tight. His eyes fall to his plate. “I didn’t. I thought—maybe I’ve just been seeing things. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fucking—God, I’ve gone and fucked it all up, haven’t I?” 

“No—Marc, you aren’t getting it. The way you feel—it’s the way I feel, too,” you admit, nearly at a whisper, so quiet that he is leaning closer to you across the table straining to hear your words. “I’ve felt this way all this time. A long time before I even let myself realize it. It’s always been you. It would break my heart if all that happened tonight was amazing, kinky sex—excuse me, I just said—!”

The waiter clears his throat. He brandishes a bottle of wine from behind his back. “For new love. On the house.” 

“Is it corked?” Marc asks, his eyes on your own. There is something dark in his eyes, something that makes your mouth go dry in an instant and your hands clench into fists in your lap.

“Yes, sir.” 

“We’ll take it to go.”

*

Marc goes to open your car door for you but instead crowds you against it right there in the parking lot, one hand braced on the window beside you and the other on your hip. His body throws off warmth, and you find yourself arching away from the cool metal of the car against his body, all the breath rushing out of you in a whoosh. 

“Listen,” Marc says, leaning in to nuzzle against your temple. “You have to tell me now if you have any doubts. If you do, we’ll get in the car and I’ll drive you back to your apartment, and tomorrow night I’ll take you on another date like nice normal people do when they’re in love. But if you don’t, if you get in this car, you’ll belong to me. You know that, don’t you? Your body—”

“I want it, Marc, I want it,” you breathe. “I don’t have any doubts, I promise—”

He reaches up and grips your chin firmly, pressing your lower jaw up until your teeth clench together. His thumb rests over the seam of your lips, locking them closed. Something about the simple act makes you whine in the back of your throat. “At, At. It’s my turn to talk, yeah? Be a good girl and wait your turn. 

“If you get in this car, then for tonight you’re mine. Your body, your mind. Your words and your actions. Your sounds. Your pleasure. All of it will be mine to do with as I see fit. And I’ll treat you so fucking good honey. So goddamn good. Because I know that’s how good of a girl you’d be for me. So what’s it gonna be?” He lets go of your mouth. 

“My safeword is wine.” 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, lips thinning. He nods, like he knew it was headed this direction. His hand drops and finds the handle of the car door, and but he doesn’t open it. Not yet. 

“One condition,” he says. “Non-negotiable.” 

Anxious, you say: “What is it?” 

“We kiss first. Here. Now. While we’re still just us.” 

“Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, do it, please—” 

He kisses you, and it’s—wow. There could be fireworks, for all you know, but they’d be coming in second. Second to the taste of wine on Marc’s tongue. Second to the soft firmness of his lips. Second to the way his broad hand cups the back of your head and tilts it just-so, so that he can deepen the kiss the way he likes. Second to the way he starts to smile against your mouth. A smile that turns into a broad grin. 

“Oh my god,” he laughs. “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.” 

“I found your bird,” you whisper shakily against his mouth. 

He pulls back, startled by your words. “You—what?” 

“Your missing bird,” you say, reaching for his hand. You place it over your racing heart, which feels like the beating of wings beneath his touch. 

[scarasimplysimping]

All In

Part 1 (might be two parts idk)

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Summary: A bet is placed to see if you can get the Summa Cum Laude to fall in love with you. (Scaramouche x Reader) (College au)

Contains: Idk. So it's one of those love stories where there's a bet. Hu Tao and Childe are kind of assholes for the sake of this fic, I am SORRY. Reader is also kind of an ass. Ooc. Some plot holes because I don't go to college or drink or smoke. Just roll with it.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

2,822 words 15,518 characters

What a stuck-up prick.

That's what you thought of him anyway. He was *the* Summa Cum Laude of your year. He was snobby, self-centered, friendless, and to top it all off, he just so happened to be your partner for your big thesis.

It was not by choice but he had no partner because people were afraid of him and you had no partner because well... people hated you. It wasn't a project that could be done individually either, lest you wanted to die before you graduate.

"He's such a bore." You complain to your friends on the lunch table, Hu Tao, Childe, and Xiao. "I tried to make plans with him, really. I asked if he was free, and you know what he said?" You slammed your hands on the table for dramatic effect.

Hu Tao leaned in closer, strands of her hair falling onto the table, and alarmingly close to Xiao's food, making him scowl as he moved his tray.

"He said," you began, putting up a silly impression of him with a snobby expression. "I don't need bottom feeders like you dragging down my work. I'll handle everything. Pay me if you want."

Childe snorted. Hu Tao doubled over in laughter, mainly because you're impression was so on point.

"God, what a freak." Hu Tao mused as she wiped her tears from her face, she never passed on the opportunity to talk shit about someone she didn't like. Childe agreed with her but he was partly not paying attention. He jabbed his fork into Xiao's food.

"Fucker." Xiao muttered under his breath.

Your silly clique was a ragtag bunch of misfits in their own ways. Hu Tao was your childhood friend who always had something vindictive to say or some storm to stir up. She lived for the drama.

Childe started tagging along around highschool. He was a charming, silver-tongued ginger ball of sunshine, he started developing a negative reputation over time as as somewhat of a satyr, though.

Xiao was above all the petty and immature antics whichever one of you had the gall to cook up. In all honesty, he was only there because his older brother, Zhongli had asked Childe to help him settle in to the college life. Childe owed the man a favor so he dragged the poor emo wherever you guys went and you kind of just got used to his company.

Then there was you, there was one thing that set you far apart from them all.

Money.

They were filthy rich and you, an independent college student, had not a penny to your name after you decided to up and leave your family to follow Hu Tao to college. You didn't really have to work though, your friends pretty much covered most of your college expense as casually as a friend would by you lunch.

"I know I can't really help him, I mean, my grades are dogshit right now but like I don't know how to pay him either," You said, burying your face into your palms.

Childe scoffed. "I don't even think he means it. Plus, it's nothing to worry about. We've got you covered if that greedy little nerd actually demands shit from you."

"Yeah, just let him do everything by himself," He continued "Watch him or something, in case your professor wants updates.."

A small smirk formed upon his lips. "I bet he's not that hard to watch anyway."

You playfully punched him on the shoulder "Gross!"

"You gotta admit he is kinda cute," Hu Tao chided in. "Right, Xiao?"

Xiao shrugged, far too focused on actually having lunch.

Childe snaked an arm over you. "Tell you what, (Y/N). If you can somehow bed the prudish bastard before the end of this semester, I'll fork over some money for this month's rent."

"Hu Tao pays rent."

"I'll fork over some money for anything you want."

"Hmm... I want VIP tickets to La Signora's concert."

"Done~"

"Oh my archons! Like actually?" Hu Tao couldn't tell if you both were serious. "(Y/N), your charm is above average but I don't even know if you can pull this one off."

You roll your eyes." Have faith in me. I bet he's easy."

Hu Tao leans back thoughtfully, a mischievous smirk playing on her face. "Alright, (Y/N). If you manage to pull this off I'll give you a grand.

You gape at her. "Seriously?

"Absolutely."

You know were only entertaining the idea because they had no actual faith you'd pull it off, but to you. This was easy money.

You slowly turn to the brooding emo on the table. "What about you, Xiao?"

His eyes narrowed at you. "What about me?"

"You gonna offer anything?"

He scoffs, groaning internally and being the only one with a moral compass. "Only an asshole would find bets such as these any type of fun."

Childe flicks his wrist dismissevly. "We are assholes."

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

It was hard enough convincing Scaramouche to work on the project and your (and Hu Tao's) place but now you had to deal with the emanating silence from you both. You've barely ever talked to him but the tension in your room could be cut with a knife, or maybe that was just your imagination.

He was sitting cross legged on your bed, typing away at his laptop with several papers surrounding him. You were sat across from him in the same position, nursing a cigarette in between your fingers.

"Do you want something to eat?" You finally break the silence.

He doesn't look up from the screen as he responds. "What do you have?"

You look to the ceiling, trying to recall what you and Hu Tao had last shoved into the fridge. "Uh... Pesto... Pizza... Dumplings. Probably some leftover vegetables."

"Bring me them all." Talk about shame.

"Alright." You say, putting out the cigarette on your nightstand. You couldn't help but notice the tiny scowl on Scaramouche's face as he glanced at the ashtray.

You come back balancing a bowl of pesto, a bowl of dumplings, and a bowl of salad on a box of pizza. Scaramouche pats on the side of your bed, indicating for you to drop the offerings there.

You light another cigarette as you take your previous seat in front of him.

"The weather is pretty nice today.." A sad attempt at conversation on your end.

Silence

"So... Childe's hosting a party tomorrow night, would you like to come?" You try once more.

Scaramouche still doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look up from the screen.

You blow a puff of smoke on his face. He coughs a bit before glaring at you with cold judging eyes. At least he was actually looking at you now. "I have no time to indulge in that crap."

"You have plenty of time. That thesis isn't due for another month."

"Well not exactly, since I'll be doing the work for both of us."

"Do you have a problem with me?"

"I have a problem with people like you." He glowers.

"People like me?" You raise your eyebrows.

"People who just have everything spoon fed to them by luck or by birthright and take that as a reason to slack off for the rest of their life since everything just magically works out for them." Scaramouche wasn't wrong, you really fucked around and never found out but still, what right did he have to judge you?

"Didn't know you knew me so well." You say, blowing out another puff of smoke but this time it's to the side.

Scaramouche opens his mouth to respond, then closes it once more. You had a point. It was hypocritical of him to listen to judge you based on gossip.

Finally, he speaks after a few minutes of silence.

"I was out of line." It's an apology although he doesn't outright apologize.

"Yeah." You decide to take advantage of his momentary guilt as you inquire about what he's working on. "So, do you mind telling me what you're doing?"

"Well, I'm looking online for research papers related to the topic were studying. I'm taking snippets I find interesting and I'll save them for later to expand on them in our thesis."

Scaramouche speaks a bit more but you're hardly listening. You take this time to really observe his physical appearance. Hu Tao was right; the man was cute. His eyes, his mouth, his lips. If you took a meat cleaver to the center of his skull, you'd have matching halves.

Even his hair looked softer than unicorn fur.

"(Y/N)?" He snaps you out, a displeased expression creeps upon his face upon noticing that you aren't even paying attention.

"Your hair looks softer than unicorn fur," you blurt out.

His eyes widen slightly, and you could've sworn he turned a shade pink before he feigned a disgusted look to save his dignity. "What the hell?"

You caught on immediately. There it was. Scaramouche had a weakness. The Summa Cum Laude, the bridge troll with a big brain and purple hair (as Hu Tao once described him) is someone who gets easily flustered .

"You're kind of cute." You push on.

"Shut the fuck up." His head lowers, he dares not look into your eyes.

"Come to Childe's party with me?" You ask once more.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Scaramouche hated you. He hated your face and your voice and your personality. He hated every single atom you were made up of, but most of all he hated the way you were able to persuade him to come to this stupid party. And for what? Just because you were the first person to ever call him cute? He'd curse you and all your descendants to come.

Childe's party was just a gathering of drunks and trouble makers. His house was practically a mansion that could fit 60% of the university's student population.

He hated the blaring lights and unbelievably loud, repetitive, and distasteful music.

"I hate this!" He has to shout for you to hear.

"I know!"

"I'm going home!"

"You can't! You're my ride home!"

"We walked here, dumbass!" Scaramouche wanted to leave you truly he did but something, wasn't letting him. His moral compass or his growing fondness of you?

Childe finds you, placing an arm around your shoulder. "Hey!" He hands you a shot glass which you graciously accept and down in a couple of seconds, much to Scaramouche's dismay.

Childe pays no attention to your companion until he does a double take and realize it's Scaramouche.

"Holy shit! Is that Scara!?" Childe grins hazily. He was drunk drunk.

Scaramouche does not respond. He is frowning while Childe handed you half a bottle of gin.

You drink it within a couple minutes as you chat with Childe.

Scaramouche stands there, awkward, cranky, and out of place as the only person he's aquatinted with in this party is getting absolutely inebriated.

At some point you don't know when or from where but you get your hands on another shot glass.

"You're not drinking that," Scaramouche states firmly.

"I am." You bring the cup to your lips but Scaramouche is faster, he snatches it from you and lets it fall to the ground.

"What gives!?"

"I'm not carrying your drunk ass home just because you drank away the capability to walk!" He shouts at you.

People are staring now. Is it because of the commotion or because Scaramouche was the last person anyone would expect to see at a party?

Scaramouche didn't like the staring or the attention. "I'm going fucking home." He says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you past the crowd. "So are you."

Childe is left there, impressed. He takes out his cellphone.

To: Hu Tao

She's actually gonna pull it off. Wtf

From: Childe

You stumble and trip as Scaramouche drags you through the night. It was a miracle you could keep up. (It wasn't, he slowed his pace on purpose to match yours but it still wasn't slow enough for your drunken ass.)

"Scara, slow dooown~"

He ignores you until he feels you slip from his grasp, landing with a thud. "What the fuck is wrong with you!? Do you not have the smarts to walk!?" The boy scolds.

You decide to rest your knees a bit as you stay on the ground.

You hear him sigh sharply before crouching in front of you. "Get on."

"What? Like piggyback style?"

"Yes, damnit just get on." His face wasn't facing you and it was dark. Scaramouche was eternally grateful to the archons that you couldn't see the way his ears reddened.

He carries you like that until you're at the front door of your place. Scaramouche gently drops you off. Miraculously not panting. (He wasn't that athletic.)

"Can I trust you enough to tuck yourself in?" The boy asks, his tone was calm this time.

You nod in response.

"Alright." Scaramouche turns his heel to leave.

"Scaramouche." You call out.

He turns back to you, a little too quickly.

You try to take a step towards him except you "accidentally" trip on air and crash onto his chest. He barely moves an inch but his hands instinctively wrap around you. You can see the exact moment he scrunches his nose as well as the moment before that where his cheeks flush.

You'll blame this on alcohol later. You'll also blame alcohol for when you pulled his collar to place a quick peck on his lips.

This was the night Scaramouche nearly passed away.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Scara paced around his room. What the fuck was that? Why the fuck would you do that? His heart still raced as fast as it did when you kissed him.

He replayed the kiss over and over in his mind. Why? Just why? He mussed his hair in frustration as he plopped himself on the bed. If Scaramouche focused enough, he could still feel their lips on his, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

Why had a drunken asshole decided to take his first kiss? Why was he reacting so weirdly?

And why did he just tuck tail speed walk away right after it happened without saying shit about it?

(Y/N) will probably tell their friends. They'll gossip and laugh at how the smartest person in their program was turned into a blushing, sputtering mess at the mere kiss of some drunk. Some overly confident, obnoxious, attractive drunk who's lips were soft as velvet.

The thought has him reeling. Rolling to the side, Scaramouche pulled a pillow over his head and groaned into it.

"I'm done guessing. What's wrong with you?" His inner monologue was broken by his cyan haired roommate.

"Nothing. Fuck off, Dottore." His words still muffled by the pillow.

"All your ceaseless brooding is keeping me distracted. I suggest you stop whining if you don't want me to give you more reasons to whine."

Silence.

That came out wrong, but it got Scaramouche to shut up so who would complain?

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

It was a crush. That's what Dottore had said to him. It made jackshit sense though. Why would he like you? You were just someone he perceived as a slacker. It's possibly because you were the only one who ever showed interest in him. He'll probably get over it when he finds someone else to adore, but he couldn't.

Scaramouche was once again working on the thesis, on your bed. He didn't bring up the kiss. Maybe you'd forgotten about it? A small part of him hoped that you didn't though.

Finally, he decides to speak up. "I demand compensation."

You shoot him a confused look.

"What? Don't you remember?" Scaramouche scowls.

"You kissed me..."

"Did I?" You feign innocence.

"Do not make me repeat myself." He orders. "That was my first kiss. I demand some kind of compensation." His cheeks were heating up as it became harder and harder for him to look you in the eyes.

"Oh?" You bring your index finger below your lips in an expression of mock thoughtfulness.

Scaramouche's scowl deepens at your mocking finger below your lips. "Do not toy with me," he warns. "You took something and I want fair repayment."

You chuckle, enjoying his ruffled feathers. " And what is a first kiss worth these days?" Leaning back on your hands, you look him over appraisingly. "I'm not convinced it was really your first. You seemed to know what you were doing..."

His cheeks redden as he scrunches his nose at your audacity. "You're insufferable."

"And yet you enjoyed kissing me." You smirk. "Perhaps you even want more?"

Scaramouche's embarrassment only grows at your bold insinuation. "You presume too much, fool," he bites back, though his resolve seems weakened.

You shrug. "Suit yourself. I was just about to offer a date."

He narrows his eyes at you, as if trying to ascertain if this is some sort of trick. "A date?"

[spicedtealeaves]

You can call me Chai, or Tea.

Chaotic switch. Gender is a buffet and I'm eating the forks.

My expression is fluid, so I fit under lots of different labels (but never man, thank you) and attractions. Sapphic folk, I adore you, please come in. Lovers of genderfuckery, look disrespectfully. Straight people...sorry but you're a bit gay now.

Asks and DMs welcome, but my replies are super intermittent! My brain just does what it wants and I'm along for the ride. Spam likes and reblogs are welcome, including reblogging my pics. I queue posts a lot so you'll probably see them all day long!

I add a Mature label as often as I can to my posts, so if you don't have them set to visible, you'll probably miss them!

#Tea shows off - my pics

#Tea dreams - my text posts, nsft and otherwise

#Tea answers - asks, answered!

#Mine - Catch-all

@spicedteacupboard - Archive of my original posts

This is an 18+ blog, MDNI. Terfs, swerfs and right-wingers fuck off

I block freely, so if your blog is mostly stolen porn, ED/Ana, feeder, chaser, or sissy content then you're gonna get turfed pretty quickly

[bimbo-baggins17]

feederism with leo!! he finds you pigging out on leftover pizza in the early hours of the morning (and that's how he discovers your binging habit. he always wondered how you ate like a bird yet had such a pudgy body.), and he absolutely loses it at the way your cheeks are stuffed, fingertips and lips greasy, and chubby tummy distended with all the food you've been sneaking. was the pizza even the first thing you started on? (no, it wasn't!)

so he takes it upon himself to make you a biiiiig breakfast, hearty and filling. why do you need bacon and sausage? so you can stay full, duh! so he tells you he'll feed you, cutting up your syrup soaked pancakes and stuffing your mouth with them. and leo's totally gonna get his rocks off to this later when you're out running errands. he'll have to disguise this as princess treatment again soon <3

THIS REQUEST??? I almost decided to gatekeep it for a bit. Also??? My first Leo piece 🎉

18+ MDNI!! Dddne!!!! Feederism!!! Afab vocabulary. Don’t like, don’t read. You are responsible for you own media consumption!! Requests are still open!:)

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

Leo peeks his eyes open, checking the LED alarm clock beside him. 7:03. He still had about an hour before it went off. He groans, the noises from the kitchen having woken him. He glances over to your side of the bed and notices you’re gone. What were you doing up?

Throwing the covers off, he pads down the short hallway and comes to a stop at the edge of the kitchen watching as you grab another slice of cold pizza from the box. He’s practically amazed when it only takes you three bites to get over halfway through it, barely allowing yourself to chew or hell, even breathe between them. He leans against the doorway, arms folded across his chest.

His eyes drift down your body, the pudge of your tummy sticking out over the waistband of your sleep shorts. He could tell how bloated and swollen it was as if you’d shoved multiple slices down your throat already. Do you do this every morning? It would explain the weight gain despite how he notices you just picking at food throughout the day.

When he sees you reach for another slice, he lets you take another bite before clearing his throat.

You whip around, looking like a deer in the headlights with your cheeks full, grease smeared around your mouth and on your fingers. Leo lets out a soft chuckle. “Hungry?”

Your cheeks flush a deep shade of red embarrassed that he caught you. “I-I..yeah..sorry..” You respond through a mouthful.

He shakes his head and pushes off the wall and walks over to you. “Don’t be sorry. Gotta eat to live, yeah?” As he gets close he notices empty cereal bar and cellophane wrappers on the counter as well. You’d been at this for awhile with more than just the pizza.

You swallow the remaining food in your mouth as you meet his blue eyes, almost bracing yourself for the inevitable judgement but there’s none. He lifts his thumb and brushes some crumbs from your face before popping it into his own mouth and sucking it clean it. “How about you sit down and I’ll cook you something more filling, doll?”

Nodding your head lightly, you take a seat on one of the at the breakfast bar. Your mind was still trying to understand why he didn’t judge you for what he just saw.

Leo moves around the kitchen getting pans and ingredients out. Pancakes, bacon, AND sausage. That’s what he decides to make for you.

You notice and your eyebrows draw together slightly. “Sausage and bacon?” You question.

He glances over his shoulder as he dollops pancake batter onto another pan. “Of course. Gotta make sure my pretty girl is full, yeah?”

Your cheeks flush a little. He just caught you engorging yourself and he calls you pretty? You nod your head, a small smile on your lips.

When everything’s done, he plates it and brings it over to you, sitting beside you. You reach for your fork but he tuts. “Lemme do it for you. Don’t want you to lift a finger, princess.” He drowns the fluffy pancakes in syrup before cutting off a bite.

“Open up,” He brings a forkful to your mouth. You listen and take the bite off the utensil. “Good girl.” His pupils dilate seeing your tongue poke out to collect some of the extra syrup off your lips.

Leo continues to feed you bite after bite of the breakfast confectionery, alternating between that and the proteins.

Another forkful is presented to you, but you shake your head. “I can’t Leo..’m full.”

He shakes his head back, presenting the fork again. “Oh no, you can still eat more. I know you can.”

You try to protest again but he gives you a look, pushing the bite towards you again. With a sigh you open your mouth for him. “Atta girl.” He praises as his other hand comes to rest on your bloated belly.

Forkful after forkful, Leo continues to “help” you eat through another stack, his eyes constantly moving to your overly full stomach a look of awe in them. You were his good girl. His good, plump and full girl.

You give him a look, the inevitable discomfort setting in. “Leo please. No more.” You say with a full mouth.

A pointed look is thrown your way. “No. You’re gonna keeping eating until I say you’re done.” You try to plead with him using your eyes but he pokes at your mouth with the tips of the fork.

Reluctantly you open up and he happily shoves more into your already full mouth. “Good girl. Such a good girl.” His large hand rests on your engorged belly again, and tries to rub some of the discomfort away though it only makes it worse.

You let out a groan, but he doesn’t pull away. “Just one more bite for me princess,” He says. You start to shake your head but stop as he gives you another look. “One more.” He instructs more firmly.

With a shaky exhale you let him feed you one last big bite of the now soggy with syrup pancakes. “There you go.” He murmurs as he watches you chew it and force yourself to swallow despite the ache in your stomach. God this was just as hot, if not more, than when you beg to suck his dick.

Once you’ve swallowed he gives you a quick kiss, tasting the syrup on your lips. “Mm I love you. You’re so good for me.” He says before standing up and clearing the plates.

When you get up he looks over his shoulder seeing just how taut the skin of your stomach was, how it stuck out a little further almost like a balloon. God it was hot to him and he felt his dick twitch in his sleep pants.

He’d have to take care of that once you were out and he would DEFINITELY have to make it a point to feed you like this every chance he got.

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

Liked this? Check out my other work here!

[hedonists-den]

Thinking a lot on my interest in findom today and how it's so strictly tied to feedism.

Like, the concept of giving any ol person a bunch of money for no other reason other than "omg pretty girl said my name 😩" honestly gives me the ick.

BUT put it in the context of feedism, and it completely changes for me. And I think it's because it feels inherently reciprocal, even if content isn't exchanged. I, in forking over an unreasonable amount of money, am directly contributing to you getting fatter, lazier, and more enabled to be a hedonist. Over a period of time, that dynamic has clear outcomes that both parties enjoy.

Feedism findom also lends itself well to a "more than you bargained for" scenario where the dom/feedee has so many paypigs/feeders (or one really good paypig/feeder) that they start really ballooning. The thrill of it all let them get carried away, and now they're much bigger than they ever really wanted to be.

Idk I probably have deeper thoughts on this topic, but for now, this is what I got lol

[van1llam1lkk]

Bitter Cravings

[ sfw | TW ; Manipulation, Feederism, Implied Sexual Content, Dubcon, Mentions of Terrorism and Homicide, Coercion As well as some General Yandere content but it's very subtle, Smoking, There's a scene where smoke is blown into your mouth]

Female Yandere x GN Reader

Mei hums a oddly familiar tune to herself, her gentle smile never wavering from her face as you hesitantly ate the dessert she had prepared for you.

"Do you have to watch me eat?" You ask, ending the silence that was only punctuated by the clinking of your silverware and Mei's humming.

"But of course, I have to make sure my Darling eats their fill." She remarks, propping her chin up with her hand. "And you are entertaining me, no? In turn I..." She trails off, clearly already forgetting what the original deal was.

"You give me information about this place in return," You remind her, irritated at her short-term forgetfulness.

"Oh yeah! Yeah, so hurry up and eat- you want that information don't ya'?" She pauses before adding "Pretty please?"

You stare at her for a moment before turning back to your plate of chocolate cake. Gingerly, you cut the rich velvet cake with your fork, somewhat embarrassed that Mei is watching your every move. When you take the first bite, it is an explosion of flavor - dark chocolate, ganache and vanilla cake melting together in your mouth. And with each little bite of yours her gaze bears down on you harder.

The dessert was delicious, but the fact that you were being watched so intently made the experience rather off-putting and Intimate in a uncomfortable way.

"This is way better than what they have around here," you say, in an attempt to avoid an awkward silence.

"Yes, there are several farms in my faction. So, unlike the subpar products we sell to you, we just keep the high-quality items for ourselves or outside vendors." She waved her hand nonchalantly before continuing. "It's really nothing complicated."

You hummed in acknowledgment as you tried to think of your next question. "So... Whole water incident." She let out a loud groan and threw her head back in annoyance as she mumbled a colorful vocabulary or curses. Digging through her pockets, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and removed one small one from it—odd since she said she could make any product she wanted— and put it into a golden cigarette holder.

"It happened before I was born, so truth be told I can't give you many details. But in short, a large number of members bought large amounts of highly concentrated forms of Soman and released it in the subway stations The leaders behind the act were executed and the followers were probably just sentenced to life in prison." She hesitates for a second, trying to recall any other crucial details.

"There were several homicides that followed, targeting anyone in positions of power or people who leaked information about the incident afterwards. Their bodies were dismembered and strewn about. And after those two events, the government kept us under surveillance for a while— seventy decades if I'm right." It was strange how nonchalantly she spoke of such a heinous act of terrorism.

"We still are, now that I think about it, but they're less strict now; just have to get their permission when purchasing certain drugs."

"That's a little fucked up... You're talking as if it was no big deal and like there weren't hundreds of people that might have been killed because of it," you say, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice.

Mei scoffs in response, throwing an arm around your waist and pulling you close. She takes a deep drag from her cigarette Cabriole before blowing the smoke right in your face. As you blink away the cloud, she finally responds.

"Honey, this place is probably less corrupt than your own government, and that's saying a lot. Just because we had a couple of accidents doesn't make us all bad." Her hand tightens around your mid-drift as she continues speaking. "Besides, I'm more interesting than any of this rusty old place's history. And I can give you so much more than anyone else ever could."

She lays her head on your shoulder briefly before sitting on your lap and wrapping her arm around your neck.

"I don't get why you can't join up here; I give you so much already and all you do for me is come by a few times a week." An annoyed scowl appears on her features. "You'd be able to get so much out of being a member here."

“Would you ever want to try smoking?” Her eyes shifted, obviously interested in the topic. “Just inhale, alright?” Before you could ask for further detail, she leaned closer and blew smoke directly into your mouth, catching you off guard. You reflexively swallowed, triggering a coughing fit that made her laugh softly. “Ahh, so I take it you have no experience with this.” She twirled the golden Cabriole around her fingers as she examined your reaction. She paused for a few seconds, studying your face before leaning closer and pushing you back against the pillows.

"You're a pretty little thing aren't cha'? And such a willing participant, letting me use you for my own amusement" She teases, her voice clearly mocking you're willingness to do in exchange for a little information.

"But, I'm not done using you." She adds on in a whisper, those words being the only warning you get before her lips soft and warm pressed against yours, the taste of Tobacco lingering on her tongue.

her hand lightly tracing your chest as her hand wanders downwards. Stopping just above your waist where she lingered for a moment longer before giving you a light squeeze.

Mei pulled away from the kiss, her breath coming out in hot puffs against your neck. "You know," she began, "there is more to be gained by joining us than just access to high-quality goods." Her fingers traced circles on your waist, lightly messing with the waistband of your pants. "And I'm sure you know where I'm getting at, don't you?"

[harley-sunday]

Feels Like Home [03]

Summary: When an unexpected three-week break between Monza and Singapore finds Daniel back on his farm in Perth he’s desperate to use this time to clear his mind, figure out his future in Formula One, and find his way back. He didn’t expect a new neighbour, a sassy two-year old, and three alpacas would make him realise that sometimes, what you’re looking for is right in front of you.

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 4.6k

AN: Daniel in this chapter is just... Oof. I hope you like it, if you could take some time to leave a comment that would mean so much :) ♥

Masterlist

“Alright, Boss,” Daniel jokes with a wide grin, “tell me what to do.” It’s his first official day as her farmhand and even though she told him yesterday what she expects from him he might have been too busy looking at her to really hear anything she said. 

“Well,” she draws out, looking from him to the alpacas and back, “it’s Sunday, so it’s time for their weekly bath, maybe you could-”

“I’m sorry, what?” Daniel eyes the girls suspiciously, not sure how he feels about bathing three killing machines who could take him out in a second. Try explaining that to Blake, he thinks to himself with a wry smile.

“Well yeah, I mean, they’re outside all week long, so I usually take them down to the river on Sundays and give them a nice wash.” She nods towards her truck, “There’s a bottle of shampoo and a brush in my truck.”

Ok. He’s got this. This is nothing compared to driving a race car at three hundred k’s per hour, right? It’s just three alpacas, and they’ve probably been bathed lots of times before, and if she can do it he surely can. Right? Daniel swallows hard, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand by taking a deep breath, trying not to show fear because he’s convinced the girls will pick up on that and- Ok. One at a time. He'll start with Blanche, she's definitely the least threatening, then Babs, and Betsy last.

“I usually take all three of them at the same time,” she says then. “They get a little antsy when they’re separated.”

Oh. Ok. He risks another glance at the girls who are huddled together in the corner of the paddock, eating some grass and probably having a better time than he is right now. But. One alpaca or three alpacas, same difference, right? So why does his voice come out all high and squeaky when he tells her, “Yeah, nah, no worries.” 

Next to him he can hear her let out a laugh and he’s about to tell her that this might not be the best idea but then her hand is on his arm and she looks up at him with a mischievous smile, “I was just messing with you, Daniel.” 

“Oh, thank God,” he breathes before he composes himself. Or tries to, anyway, “I mean, I was going to do it but-”

“Yeah, nah, I could totally see that,” she jokes, her hand squeezing his arm as she winks at him. “Why don’t you fill up their feeder inside and I’ll get started on cleaning out the shed?”

“That I can do,” Daniel agrees easily enough. He takes the bucket of grains out of her truck and starts making his way over to the shed. As soon as he opens the gate he can see the alpacas hurrying over to him and so he makes a quick dash to the shed to avoid being trampled to death by a herd of angry alpacas. Or at least, three very hungry ones. Still they catch up with him and he lets out an embarrassing yelp when Blanche head buts him in the back, “Jeepers, Blanche!”

“She likes you,” she says from where she’s leaning on her pitch fork. 

“I like you too,” Daniel tells the white alpaca in a soft voice, trying not to spook her, “but I’m gonna need you to keep your distance, ma’am.” 

***

When you hit the call button you take a deep breath, trying to settle the nerves in your stomach that have formed a nice little knot there ever since Granddad suggested asking Daniel to help you out and gave you his number, and bite your lip while you wait for the call to go through. 

He answers with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Hi Daniel, it’s-”

“Well, hello neighbour,” he says then and you swear you can feel his megawatt smile beaming at you through the phone. “Everything alright? Is this you calling me to tell me what an excellent job I did today?”

“Uhm, no-” You can’t help but laugh, “But sure. Thank you for today, Daniel. You did an excellent job.”

“Thank you, that sounded very genuine and not at all prompted,” he laughs.

You nod, even though he can’t see you. “I uh-” you clear your throat, trying to get rid of your pinched voice, “I wanted to ask if you maybe could do me a favour tomorrow?”

“Hmm,” he hums in reply and you think you can hear him sit down somewhere, “that depends.”

“On?”

“On what the favour is. I’ve got no problem feeding the girls but if you’re going to tell me that because it’s Monday it’s time for Oscar’s his weekly bath I might-”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, “No.” A little cheeky then, “That’s not until next Friday anyway.” He chuckles and you can feel your nerves settle down a little, “I do have to take Granddad into town tomorrow though. The doctor wants to see him for a follow-up and so I was wondering if you maybe could watch Ellie for an hour or two? Mrs Mackenzie was supposed to watch her but she’s not feeling too well, so- Normally I would take Ellie with me but it’s right around her nap time and she gets a little grumpy when she doesn’t get enough sleep so I’d rather-”

“You want me to hang out with Miss Ellie?”

“Well, she’d be asleep for most of it,” you try to reassure him because he sounds a little- hesitant, maybe. “Really it’s just babysitting her for two hours tops but if you don’t-”

“I’d love to,” he interrupts you quickly. “What time do you need me to come over?”

“We have to leave at one-”

“I’ll be there.”

You can’t help the smile that grows ever wider, “Thank you so much, Dan. I really appre-”

“Stop it,” he counters, no doubt with a grin. “I’m happy to help out.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from thanking him again and so instead you simply say, “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yep. Catch you later, neighbour.”

***

“Thanks for another great workout, Mikey, it’s been swell,” Daniel says once they’re done with their Monday morning session. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Michael eyes him suspiciously, “You’re awfully chipper today-”

“What?” Daniel chuckles and shrugs, “Am I not allowed to enjoy working out?”

“You are,” Michael draws out, “it’s just that usually you don’t.”

“It was a good workout, mate,” Daniel says as he claps Michael’s back. Of course he knows exactly what brought on his good mood, because he’s been looking forward to babysitting Ellie all day, but he doesn’t necessarily need Michael to know that. 

“Sure,”

“What?” Daniel says again. “Don’t doubt yourself, Mikey. Your workouts are great!”

“I’m not sure what’s going on here,” Michael says, circling his finger in front of Daniel’s chest, “but keep up with the flattery, mate. It’s better than your usual complaining.”

“Awesome.” Daniel risks a quick glance at his watch then and sees it’s already a quarter past twelve and he still needs to shower and- “It’s been swell, mate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yep,” Michael agrees bluntly. He narrows his eyes at Daniel then, “Do I need Blake to schedule a drug test or something?” He lowers his voice, “Are you involved in illegal activities, Dan? I mean, I’m not against the use of CBD oil but I don’t think smoking weed is-”

“Out!” Daniel pushes his friend towards the door with a shake of his head even though he can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth, “Don’t be a nosy Nellie, mate. It doesn’t suit you.” 

Michael gives him the finger but then heads to his car and so Daniel turns on his heels and heads for the shower, and if he’s already picked out the outfit he’s going to wear, so what? It’s efficient.

He’s out of the house twenty minutes later and when he pulls up in front of Oscar’s house there’s still ten minutes to spare. Daniel knocks and then lets himself in like he always does, finding his neighbour in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea, “Hiya Oscar.”

“Hi Danny,” Oscar replies, his face lighting up with a smile.

“How you doing, mate?”

“Not too bad,” Oscar agrees easily enough. As always he’s a man of little words and doesn’t really elaborate. Instead he nods to the ceiling, “She’s just putting Ellie to bed, shouldn’t take long.”

“Oh, that’s ok,” Daniel says as he sits down in one of the kitchen chairs after helping himself to a cup of coffee.

“Listen, Dan,” Oscar starts and for some reason Daniel knows whatever comes next is important, “they’ve been through a lot, both of them. It wasn’t easy when Ellie’s dad-” Oscar shakes his head, “That’s not really my story to tell but I need you to understand that she doesn’t trust people easily, so for her to ask you to watch Ellie, the one person who means more to her than anyone, well-” he locks eyes with Daniel, “It’s a big ask from her and a big responsibility for you. Don’t muck about, son. Ok? Not just now, with babysitting Ellie, but with her as well. I might not be as quick as I was before but I won’t hesitate to hunt you down if you ever hurt her.”

“Understood,” Daniel says with a nod because he does. He could tell she was hesitant to accept his help when he first offered it and even more so when she called him yesterday and so he wants to do anything but hurt the trust she’s put in him. 

“Good,” Oscar says, taking another sip of his tea.

When he hears her coming down the stairs he leans in a little closer to Oscar and tells him, “I’m not gonna let her down, promise.”

“That’s a big promise to make, Danny,” Oscar counters with his eyebrows raised.

“I know,” Daniel gives him a big smile, “but I intend to keep it.”

It’s then she walks into the kitchen, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Daniel beams back at her, a little taken aback by how different she looks out of her normal work clothes because even though she’s wearing jeans and a simple black top she looks absolutely gorgeous. He clears his throat and tries not to stare when he asks, “Ellie’s asleep?”

“Yep,” she nods. “Out like a light. I doubt she’ll wake up before we get back but just in case there’s a bottle of milk in the fridge that you just need to heat up and if she wants she can have a banana.”

“Gotcha.”

“You have my number so call me if there’s anything, ok?” She waits until he nods before she casually adds, “She likes you so I don’t think she’ll mind you being there but if she does throw a little tantrum-”

“I’ll call,” Daniel adds, trying to reassure her that he’s got this while still basking in the fact that Ellie likes him. 

She turns towards Oscar then, “Ready to go?”

Daniel helps Oscar to her car and promises once again to call if there’s anything before he heads back inside and settles on the couch with his phone, making good use of his time by catching up on some emails.

Ellie wakes up somewhere around two-thirty and Daniel’s on his feet at her first cry, a little nervous when he walks up the stairs to where Oscar told him her room is. The little girl is sitting in her cot, looking at him with big eyes and so he lowers his voice, trying to let her know it’s ok when he says, “Hi Miss Ellie. How you going?”

Ellie looks up at him, her little eyebrows knitted together as she studies him for a moment, but then she must recognise him because she holds out her hands to him, “Danny.”

“That’s right,” Daniel says as he picks her up and kisses her cheek. “How you going, sleepyhead?”

She leans back a little in his arms, looking over his shoulder, “Momma?”

“Momma’s taking Granddad to see the doctor, sweetheart,” Daniel explains as he gently wipes her hair out of her face. “She’ll be back soon.”

Ellie seems to think about it for a second but then seems content with his answer and lets her head rest against his shoulder, “Milk?”

Daniel laughs, “Yep. Let’s go get you some milk, huh?” He pokes her side then, “And maybe a banana?”

Ellie’s head shoots up, her eyes wide, whispering a quiet, “‘Nana?”

“Banana,” Daniel confirms quietly as he turns around. He makes his way down the stairs carefully before he walks to the kitchen and sits her down in her high chair. 

Ellie’s quietly singing to herself as he waits for the microwave to heat up her bottle and at first he can’t make out what she’s going on about but then the microwave beeps and it’s quiet in the kitchen again and he hears her loud and clear, “Danny, banana. Danny, banana. Danny, banana.” 

Daniel presses a kiss to the top of her head as he puts her bottle down in front of her, “You’re the coolest kid ever, Miss Ellie." When she smiles up at him he grins back at her, "Don’t tell my niece and nephew I said that, ok? Our little secret.”

***

It’s close to three when you pull up to the house and part of you wants to rush inside, to check up on Ellie, and Daniel, but you know you can’t just leave Granddad behind. Instead you turn to him, “I’ll go ask Daniel to come help, ok?”

Your granddad grunts something in reply and you can’t help but smile because you know it’s nothing personal, know it’s just because he hates not being able to do something as simple as getting out of a car on his own and if anything you admire the way he still cares about his independence. 

You hear him continue his rant as you step out of the car but don't really pay it any mind, music coming from the house drawing your attention instead. When you walk past Homer, who's curled up on the old couch on the front porch, he looks at you as if to say he doesn't know what's going on either. You pat his head and tell him, "Good boy," before you let yourself in and head for the kitchen.

The loud music means they haven't heard you come in and so you allow yourself a moment to take it all in - Daniel with the sleeves of his t-shirt pushed up, excitedly showing off his tattoos to Ellie, pointing at them and explaining to her what they are. Ellie seems absolutely enthralled by all the pictures etched into his skin, her little fingers now tracing the lines of a cupid on his arm. You feel something settle inside of your chest as you watch your daughter and Daniel together, both of them so at ease, and it's something you haven’t felt in a long time. Before you have time to explore it some more your daughter spots you and so you push yourself off from where you were leaning against the doorframe and walk over to where Ellie’s sitting in her high chair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Hi bub. You having fun?"

Daniel nods, "She's been like this ever since she woke up half an hour ago," just as Ellie points at Daniel’s tattoo, “Cupid!”

“Yeah, that’s a cupid,” you agree with a smile, trying your hardest not to stare at Daniel's tan arms but failing miserably and so you clear your throat to distract yourself. 

If Daniel notices anything he's kind enough not to mention it and instead puts his sweater back on. Once that's over his head he looks at you with a grin, "What you do to the old man? Leave him behind at the nursing home?"

You laugh and shake your head, "He's in the car. Would you mind helping him out?"

"On it," Daniel says with a click of his tongue, pointing a pair of finger guns at the two of you before he pulls a face and turns around. 

Both you and Ellie watch in silence as he walks out of the kitchen, Ellie letting out a quiet, "Danny," when he turns the corner and you letting out a heavy sigh at the same time. When Ellie looks up at you, you smile back at her, drawing out a "Yeah."

Ellie, bless her, claps her hands in response and then blows a raspberry at you.

You comb your fingers through her hair absentmindedly, "Same, bub-" Another sigh then, "Same."

Daniel and Granddad make it inside not much later, but it’s only Daniel who returns to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair as he says, “He asked me to put him in the living room.”

“He’s a little grumpy,” you whisper with a wink. “Hasn’t had his afternoon nap yet so-” you see-saw your hand and let the rest of that sentence hang in the air unspoken.  

“Gotcha,” Daniel says with a grin, looking a bit unsure of himself. He shakes his head then and points at the window, “I don’t know about you two but maybe we could go for a walk? It’s nice enough outside and I don’t mind stretching my legs for a bit.” 

You look down at Ellie, “You wanna go for a walk, bub?”

Ellie’s eyes light up and she whispers a happy, “Yeah,” before she looks at Daniel, “Come with?”

“Yep,” Daniel nods. “I’m definitely coming with, my friend.”

“I’ll just go get her changed real quick,” you tell Daniel as you pick Ellie up from her seat. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll wait outside for you,” Daniel offers with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to disturb the old man during his nap.” 

When you come down a little later, Ellie in a pair of pale green dungarees and a fleece made from Alpaca wool, you find Daniel sitting next to Homer on the porch swing, albeit with some distance between them. You can’t help but tease, “Cautious of the dog too, Ricciardo?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a nod, rubbing his hands on the fabric of his jeans. “Although I trust him more than I do the alpacas.” 

You click your tongue, “Better not let the girls hear that.” Ellie starts wriggling in your arms and so you put her down, watching as she wobbles over to the apple orchard, where Granddad put up a swing for you in one of the trees when you were Ellie’s age. You look at Daniel and shrug, “Guess we’re going that way.” 

Ellie’s surprisingly quick on her little legs and already waiting for you at the swing by the time you catch up with her. Daniel doesn’t hesitate and picks her up so he can put her into the seat, gently pushing her once she’s in, drawing excited giggles from her, his own smile growing wider with every push. 

You and Daniel talk about the farm mostly, how it was back when you were a kid and how much has changed since your grandmother passed away a few years ago. When he asks if you could ever see yourself moving here full time, you hesitate, “I’m not sure.” You shrug then, “I think I could manage what little livestock we have now but I’m not sure if I could be the best mum to Ellie if I have the farm to worry about.”

“Hmm,” he agrees quietly, encouraging you to go on.

“It’s a lot of work,” you explain. “I mean, if it wasn't just me maybe it’d be different but-”

“Can I-” Daniel stops himself but when you nod, because you know what he’s going to ask, he clears his throat and continues, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where’s Ellie’s dad?”

“Dunno.” You smile to let him know it’s ok, “We were together for six or seven months before I found out he was married, so I broke it off and told him I never wanted to see him again. Two months later I found out I was pregnant.”

“Does he-”

“He knows about Ellie, but he already has a wife and kids so-” You look at Ellie, “He signed away his rights when she was born and asked not to bother him anymore.”

“Wow,” Daniel shakes his head. “What an a-” He looks at Ellie and corrects himself just in time, “What a despicable human being.”

You shrug, “It’s fine. For me it’s better this way but-” you swallow hard, trying to get rid of the lump that has started to form in your throat, “I worry about the day Ellie’s going to ask about him, you know? Can you imagine? ‘Oh yeah, funny you should ask, kid, but your dad doesn’t want anything to do with you.’” You scoff, “I hate that he’s put me in that position but on the other hand, if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have her so-”

“If it’s any consolation,” Daniel says with a hesitant smile, “she’s a carbon copy of you, both the way she looks and her personality. People will always know she’s your kid.” 

“That’s very kind, thank you,” you tell him with a warm smile.

Ellie decides then she’s had enough of the swing and holds up her arms, “Out.”

You can’t help but laugh and nod at your daughter, “You heard her, Daniel. She wants out.” 

Daniel laughs and picks up Ellie, lifting her onto his shoulders before he turns to you, “Why don’t you show me your favourite place on the farm?”

“My favourite place,” you echo slowly, trying to choose between the little creek over in the Burned Oak paddock or- Looking at your daughter then, who is giggling with glee from being so high up, the choice is easy, “Ok. Let’s go.” You lead Daniel through the orchard to a field that at first glance doesn’t look like anything special but you know in a few months time will look completely different.

When you reach the gate you look at him from over your shoulder, “This is it.”

“Ok,” he draws out, probably not sure if you’re joking or not.

“You’ll have to come back in December,” you tell him, without thinking much of it, without fully realising you actually want him to come back, want to have him in your life for more than just the two weeks you’re promised now, “the entire place will be covered in poppies. It’s beautiful.” You poke Ellie’s side then, “It’s why her second name is Poppy.”

“Because you love the flowers so much?” Daniel guesses.

“That and because she was born on December third, when they are in full bloom.” You take your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and pull up your picture gallery, scrolling back to a picture of Ellie’s second birthday, where you took a few pictures of her surrounded by thousands of red poppies. You angle your phone to Daniel, “See?” 

“Oh wow.”

“Right?” You smile at Ellie, “A very pretty girl in the middle of some very pretty flowers.” 

Ellie yawns in response and when you look at the time on your phone you’re surprised to see it’s already close to five. You look at Daniel, “We should probably head back. Don’t want the wrath of Granddad unleashed on us because of dinner being late.”

Daniel laughs, “Yeah, nah, we could do without.”

***

It’s been less than a week since Daniel offered to help out on the farm, but already you’ve settled into an easy rhythm. You still do your chores around the house in the morning, make lunch, put Ellie down for her nap, and spend some time outside until your granddad calls, have a coffee break, head back outside again together with Ellie for an hour or so until it’s five o’clock and it’s time to make dinner. Or, well, warm up dinner. The meals Daniel brought you only require a few minutes in the microwave and save you so much time. 

Daniel usually shows up around five-thirty, entertaining Ellie long enough for you and Granddad to finish your dinner in relative peace before you take Ellie upstairs to get her ready for the night while Daniel and your Granddad drink a cuppa and gossip about the neighbours and whatever footie game was on that day. By now Granddad is a lot more independent around the house, but getting him ready both in the mornings and at night is still something you need to help him with. He seems a bit happier though and in the end that’s all that matters.  

Once Ellie is asleep, you and Daniel head outside, taking your Granddad’s ute out to Eagle’s nest to tend to the alpacas. More often than not, Homer jumps into the back of the truck once you set off, having taken a special liking to the alpacas ever since they arrived on the farm a few years ago. 

It’s where you find yourself today, an unusually warm Wednesday evening, with Homer dozing off next to the fence while you and Daniel clean out the shed so you can put in fresh hay later. The warmer weather means both you and Daniel have ditched your jackets, Daniel even going as far as taking his sweater off and working in only a t-shirt and so you keep finding yourself stealing glances at his arms and the way his tattoos stand out against his skin. 

Of course Daniel catches you looking, “Like what you see?” 

Is he flirting with you? If he is, it’s working because you feel the heat rise to your cheeks but try to shrug it off, “I’ve seen better.” 

“Hmm,” he teases and throws you a wink. “Let me know if it’s too distracting, babe. I’ll put my sweater back on.”

Babe? Oh God. He really is flirting with you. Fine. Two can play that game, you decide as you lean on your pitchfork, “Are you flexing right now?” You laugh when he seems confused and tease him some more, “Oh my God, you are. You are actually flexing your muscles.”

“Am not,” he shoots back, throwing his spade aside and taking on one of those ridiculous bodybuilder poses, one leg bent as he turns his torso towards you and pumps the muscles in his arms, “Now I am.” He goes through a whole array of poses and ends up with his back towards you, flexing his butt cheeks.

You hate the giggle that escapes you and so you try to play it cool and applaud his efforts instead, holding up an invisible sign, “Ten out of ten, Danny. You have impressed the judges.”

“Judges-” he echoes, “or judge?”

Biting your bottom lip you scrunch your nose, “It takes a lot more than that to impress this judge-” then, because why not, “-babe.” 

“Oooh,” Daniel draws out and puts his hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt by your comment, “way to kick me down, boss. Jeepers.”

“You wanna impress me?” You nod towards the last of the dirty hay, “Clean that out for me and then we’ll talk.” 

“Or,” Daniel starts, taking a step closer to you and making you look up at him, “I could take you out to dinner on Friday.”

You nod, your throat a little dry from how close he’s standing, “Or you could do that.” 

[alphynix]

Strange Symmetries #04: Even More Echinoderms

Early echinoderms seem to have gone through an asymmetrical phase before starting to evolving their characteristic radial symmetry. The first truly radial forms had three-way symmetry, but soon a group called the edrioasteroids upped that count to five.

First appearing in the fossil record around 525 million years ago in the early Cambrian, edrioasteroids were mostly shaped like discs or domes, and were immobile filter-feeders that lived permanently attached onto surfaces like the seafloor or the shells of other animals. Unlike most modern echinoderms their pentaradial symmetry was actually created by taking a tri-radial body plan and forking two of their arms near the bases to create a total of five.

Thresherodiscus ramosus was an unusal edrioasteroid that lived in the shallow seas of what is now central Canada during the late Ordovician, around 460-450 million years ago. Up to about 4cm in diameter (~1.6"), its arms split additional times at irregular intervals, creating a complex asymmetrical branching pattern across its upper surface.

The tips of its arms protruded slightly over the rim of its body, and along with the erratic extra branching this may have been an adaptation to increase its food-gathering surface area.

———

Another group of early pentaradial echinoderms known as the blastozoans were characterized by erect feeding appendages called brachioles. But some blastozoans abandoned their five-way symmetry in favor of much stranger arrangements, sometimes having as few as two arms – and, in some cases, two mouths.

Known from the same general area and time period as Thresherodiscus, Amygdalocystites radiatus was part of an Ordovician-to-early-Silurian lineage known as paracrinoids, which attached their irregularly-shaped bodies to the seafloor via a stem.

About 5cm long (~2") Amygdalocystites had just two asymmetric arms forming "food grooves" along its upper edge, each lined with numerous long brachioles along just one of their sides. It probably orientated itself so its body was facing down-current, which would have created eddies that brought suspended food particles within easier reach of its brachioles.

———

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[mortiskiller]

A companion piece, the feeder perspective to a story by @thefoolandthehermit and I. Make sure to read them both!

It was a short drive to the dispensary, maybe thirty minutes round trip, enough time for the groceries I ordered to be ready for pick up. As I pulled into the driveway, the kitchen light caught my attention. “Silly girl must be hungry after last night.” I thought, grabbing the groceries, every bag bulging with ingredients and treats for my voluptuous growing girl. 

The sound of me opening the door stopped her dead in the hall. Thick round and heavy ass cheeks stretched a pair of pink panties to their limits, a drooping pair of love handles covered the waistband of her oh so small panties. 

“Princess.” I addressed her, she knew to turn around. Thick pillar-like legs that touched to her calves shifted her jiggling bulk around. A light red spread over her plump peach shaped cheeks as she looked at me, hands filled with a half gallon of chocolate milk and two cold slices of pizza. “You know you’re not supposed to be on your feet today, remember?” 

As she chewed on her pizza the sudden realization of our deal came back to her.  Today my lardy princess was not supposed to move a muscle besides to eat or use the bathroom. A whole day of being pampered, being lazy, being indulgent. The light red of her cheeks deepened as she realized her mistake. Placing the bags in the kitchen as she finished her pizza and chugged half the milk, my hands gliding over her wide seat filling hips, squeezing her hips as her legs buckle slightly and a breathy moan escapes from between lips still glistening with milky chocolate. I steer her like a cow grazing in a pasture, she knows she as no choice in the matter, it's not like the 400 plus pound princess can protest anyway. 

She has been talking about this day all week. A day off work and a day for me to remind her that she was my feedee. My growing, thickening, cow. 

I spin her around and sit her down onto the couch, aiming for the dent her sixty five inch hips have catered into it. Her belly and tits jiggle as she falls into the dent, the usual chorus of creaking wood and grating metal greeting her prodigious bulk. 

“The couch could not break anymore.” she said looking at me with a slight hope she was not too big. A slight smile crossed my face as I kissed her forehead, “We’ll see…”. 

In a short time the coffee table in front of her is filled end to end with the bounty of the grocery store. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and her favorite, a heaping mound of chicken and waffles. Her eyes look to be fucking the food as her tongue licks plump lips, her chubby hands and sausage fingers rub a gut that spills across her thighs and on to her knees. I could see she wanted to leap off the couch and kiss me, like she did 200 pounds ago, but instead her loving eyes drew me to sit down as her favorite bong was pressed into her pudgy belly. Her hips flowed into my side, warm plush fat sending a shiver up my spine. 

Over the next hour I took turns bringing the bong to her lips and shoving in forkfuls of food as the weed dulled her sense of time and space. My plan was to get her so high she loses all control and gives in completely to me. Each bite is followed by a deep hit of the bong. No exhaling, just swallowing and chewing. 

As the last bite of waffle passed her sticky lips, her groans and gentle moos filled the living room. In just under an hour my SSBBW cow had finished a breakfast big enough for a family of five and smoked two grams of weed. Eyes closed, leaned back into her ass groove, as her hands rubbed and kneaded her tight belly. She was so lost in the stuffing she did not notice me grab her vape pen. Loaded inside was a new flavor of high potency THC, just what I needed to make her mine for the day. A fuzzy headed cow mooing for more food. 

The cold metal of the pen touched her lips, “Take a hit now.”. Her lips curl around the tip, inhaling deeply as she takes a large hit. I can tell the weed is hitting her hard. Her eyes open wide as the effects take hold. What little hold on reality she had is slipping. Her hands gripped her bulging upper belly as greed took over. In a matter of minutes she is begging for more food. 

Bag of chips and candy, plates of grilled cheese and bowls of soup, half a dozen boosts disappear into her cavernous gut as the weed keeps her fuzzy and greedy. 

Rubbing her belly as she chugs the last boost, I marvel at her size. Her belly is so tight and firm, but the lower belly rolls are soft as butter, spreading over her thighs like an avalanche of creamy stretch mark covered blubber. I take time to massage her taut belly, kneading it to compact all the food down so her weed addled brain thinks she is hungry again. A roaring blech brings her back to some semblance of reality as I continue making room for her to eat. “Daddy, is it lunch time?”. She asks through barely opened eyes blurry and red from the immense amount of THC pulsing around her body. I chuckle slightly thinking that she thinks hours have flown by, instead of the two since her breakfast feeding session. It's barely past ten in the morning. 

As my hands push gas out of her our, both ends of her showing the effects of eating ten thousand calories in three hours, I lean into her yielding form and whisper, “You need more, baby. You're not ready yet. I need you so much fatter. More fuzzy brained, more obedient.”. I bring the pen back to her lips and leave it there till she takes a deep, long, hard hit. My other hand snakes between her thighs, I feel them wiggle and squeeze my hand. “Is my cow getting hungry and horny?” thick warm honied words fill her ear. She takes another deep hit of the pen. "That's it, get nice and dumb piggy. Just how I like you." Taking the pen away her head falls back as she moans and moos, she always does this when her brain is soaked in weed, arousal, and dopamine from being fed. 

I take my time to grope her fattening body, licking and kissing each stretch mark, tasting her mouth and the flavors of her meals. The oven dings to let me know the pan of brownies is done. As I bring the warm, gooey and heavy pan laden with enough butter, sugar, and chocolate to kill a normal person, her mouth is hanging open. I see my opening and start shoving in hunks of brownie by the handful. She doesn't resist, just a dumb smile between bites as she paws at her FUPA and thighs. Just how I like her, stuffed and so horny she is an eating machine. 

The last handful I scrape out of the pan and into her mouth brings a rumble for her stomach. I can feel her belly shake as it begs for more food. The piggy's belly wants more. Such a deeply arousing moment for a feeder brings a grunt from my mouth. "Such a perv." she laughs and I smirk at her. 

"Says the half naked fatty, eating and smoking whatever I give her." a familiar crimson shoots across her cheeks. My hands pull her thighs apart, causing her gut to drop between her legs. A gasp rips out of her mouth followed by a deep throaty moan as the full force of her obesity hits her. She is quiet after that. 

This continued for hours. Between naps to settle her stomach and give me time to prepare meal after meal, she was an absolute blimp by the end of the night. The appetite enhancers, shakes, weed, and mountains of food had rendered her immobile on the couch, at least until she could sleep for 24 hours. When I would use the bathroom or run to the pantry for something, her sweaty wheezing face would show me the futile attempts to move. 

She was too high, too fat, dependent on whatever I wanted to do next. After today, her body would convert this gluttony into new heavy immobilizing fat. Hanging sheets of lard that would make it easier and easier to feed her into a couch locked sow that could only eat, smoke, and groan. She lies there clutching her gravid looking belly, soothing it like a heavily pregnant woman, instead of a morbidly obese whale. As the food settled into her stomach, mixing and churning, every minute I could see her body struggle to hold the thirty thousand calories into her gut. 

The rocking back and forth of her hips told me she was unbearably horny. Under her hanging gut and hefty FUPA I can almost hear her genitals begging to be used. 

As I stood in the kitchen getting her dessert ready, a loud crack followed by her yelling for Daddy. I ran over to her looking over the immensity of her body, she had broken the couch and the splinters were under her ass. The sow was sitting on the floor! 

"I told you you'd break it.." I say standing at the door way chuckling.  "Look at you,  whiney and dumb. Bet you don't even understand that it was your fat ass that's broken the couch". She  shakes her head, then slowly realizes it was her beluga sized ass and gut that broke it.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. Please help me up, please!. I want to go to the bedroom! I want you to touch me!" she pleads as her flabby arms wave and beg for me to lift her up. Leaning over her, rubbing circles around her navel and holding a box of jelly donuts, her eyes see the dozen fried sugar bombs and her gut growls again.

"You're not going anywhere my sweet." I flip the box open and without hesitation shove a jelly filled donut sloppily into her mouth. My hand covers her mouth, making sure she can't even think about not swallowing the whole thing. She was so insatiable,her eating sounded like a fucking orgy. Wet squelching of her fat lips coated in thick layers of jelly and pastry, her moans from a packed mouth of fried dough and sugar, the high pitched screams as she pawed her hidden genitals. 

So focused on eating and taking the next doughnut whole, she failed to notice me spreading her legs, nibbling the soft sensitive flesh of her thighs. 

"More! Please!" she pleads and her words are met, another donut shoved into her mouth as I suck her buried clit. "Fuck!" muffled by pastry and lust comes from her lips. Her clit leaked into my mouth, I could swear it tasted like icing. 

"Cum on my face baby, you can cum as much as you want, you just have to keep eating." I say bringing another doughnut to her lips. Once the two donuts were gone there was little reprieve for her clit and her belly. I could tell the fast pace and force of the feeding was making her stuffed again and this was only donut three of twelve. Her  thighs tensing around my head let me know a second orgasm was ripping through her body.

Parting her legs, I kissed her deeply, "Keep eating princess, I promise if you finish it all Daddy will make you feel so good. I'll make sure I breed you nice and deep." my hand slaps her churning screaming gut and a belch loudly followed by a pained moan with hints of arousal.

I giggle at her "There's my growing girl. Now, have another donut. I'm not done with you and I won't be for a while-"

[futurebird]

Top Escaped Ant Activities

When ants escape what do they do? Here are their top choices:

Sadly linger on the lid of the formicarium hoping to let back in.

Menace the lid of other ant colonies.

Menace the feeder roaches.

That last one surprised me. One little ant wants to try to take on 8 dozen dubias all by herself. This would be like if you ran away from home, then hung around a beef ranch with a napkin tucked in to your collar and knife and fork in each hand licking your chops at the cows.

[bimbo-baggins17]

feederism but this time the roles are reversed? With our lovely ani..

Mhm mhm yes. I like the way you think anon 😏 Hope you like it 🫶

18+ MDNI!! Feederism!! Slight oral, male receiving. Don’t like, don’t read. You are responsible for your own media consumption!! Requests are still open!:)

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“What’s that for, my love?” Anakin asks, looking up from his reading as you step into your shared bedroom with a freshly baked cake in a glass dish.

You shrug your shoulders, “No reason at all. I just figured you’d like some.”

He smiles and closes his book, slipping his reading glasses off. “Aren’t you sweet?”

You close the distance and sit on the edge of the bed by him, a smile on your lips as you subtly take note of the little bit of weight he’s slowly started to put on. The once chiseled six pack having started to lose its definition and be replaced with pudge. You loved it and wanted to see him get even bigger. Yes his physique before had been nice but there’s something about the idea of seeing your lover all plump and fat that enticed you entirely.

He starts to situate himself to sit next to you but you place a hand on his chest to stop him, shaking your head. “Just relax, Ani. I’ll take care of you.”

His eyebrows flick up slightly but he obliges and rests back against the headboard. You smile and shift so you’re between his legs facing him, the glass dish balanced on his lap.

Picking up the fork, you get a hefty first bite of the spongy sweet on it and bring it to his lips. Without instructing him to open his mouth, he takes the bite off the utensil. “Delicious, as usual sweetheart.” He mumbles with his mouth full.

Happily you smile at him and present him with another bite. And then another. And then another. And another. The crumbs start to collect on his bare chest and around his mouth. Before he’s realized it, you’re more than halfway through the dessert. The skin of his stomach was starting to stretch further, the more you practically shoved it down his throat. “Mm..no more darling. I’m getting full.” He pats his belly.

You pout at him, “C’mon Ani, you can eat more. I went through all this trouble to make it for you, you can’t let it go to waste now.”

He chuckles a little, eyes drifting down as you scoop up more for him. He looks back to your face. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to make me fat.”

Your cheeks pinken a little and you start to shake your head but he sees through it. Anakin’s eyebrows quirk up, his head tilting, “Oh? So you are? Want me all big and round for you sweetheart? Is that it?”

You meet his gaze almost shyly but nod your head gently. “Maybe..”

The reaction you get from him isn’t what you had anticipated. He grabs your hand that is holding the fork and guides it back to the pan to get more of the dessert on it. Drawing your eyebrows together, you allow him to do so.

He notices the confusion. “Can’t let it go to waste, yeah?” He asks with feigned innocence, repeating your same words from only moment prior. You help him to another bite with a smile on your face.

Anakin forces down each and every one you present him with even when his stomach is aching and begging for no more. He’d do whatever to make you happy and if it involved getting fat and eating an ungodly amount of food, he would.

He swallows the final bite, and watches as you scrape up the crumbs for him to even finish. “You did so good for me Ani.” You praise as he cleans up the last little bits.

You bring your hands up to his bloated belly and caresses it lovingly. He shifts a bit in discomfort but doesn’t stop you. Maybe he likes it too, more than he was willing to admit. You apply a little more pressure to it making him grunt.

“Careful.” He huffs out.

You shake your head and lean forward, keeping your eyes on him. “I know, I know. You just did so good for me, my love.” You flatten your tongue and lick a stripe up between his less chiseled pecs, collecting the cake crumbs that gathered there.

He shifts under you again but this time as he feels himself getting hard. “What are you doing?” He asks almost breathless as his eyes never stray from you as your lips trail down over the swell of his belly and even further.

“Rewarding you for doing so good.” You murmur against the soft pudge that now sticks out over the waistband of his pants.

He sucks in a breath and nods his head, the pain in his stomach slowly dulling as you slip his pants down just enough to reveal his hard cock.

He lets out a strangled moan as you waste no time in taking him in your mouth, lips wrapping around him so perfectly. “We-…we need to..oh fuck..make this a-ah like that..a regular thing.”

You’d happily do so. Help him engorge himself, make him fat and suck him off? He doesn’t even need to ask twice.

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