mewhenimsad
Mando Is Baby Gorl
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Bzzzzz 😵💫😵💫
Follow up to Joel x f!reader lactation kink (you can read here)
Joel being obsessed with playing with your 8 months pregnant belly.
Warnings: pregnancy kink, cum smearing.. kink?, masturbation
18+ONLY
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You're cooking breakfast on the stove when you feel his press against you, his gentle hands wrspping around your waist and caressing the underside of your belly. He cranes his neck over your shoulder, staring between the balley of your swollen breasts to see your swell.
He lifts the underside of it, making you sigh in relief at loss of weight digging in your back. He keeps holding your bump and releasing, enamored by its roundness. He had made a routine of doing this every month since you started showing, weighing your tummy as your baby grew each day. "'S getting heavier."
"Please stop playing with my fat."
"S'not fat, that's my baby."
"OK well please stop playing with OUR fat baby."
"Mmm." He nozzles his nose into your ear. "Feels good though, right?"
You nodded dreamily, temporarily forgetting the burning food in front of you.
Later that night you had gone to bed. You awoke to light panting, and a warm, wet fat finger pressing against your belly.
You opened your eyes and saw Joel lying next to you on the bed.
Warm, wet, fat--yes. Finger? No.
You looked down to see his thick cock pressing desperately against your belly, half jerking it with one hand and thrusting against you with his hips. His precum smeared across your belly button.
He didn't even notice you were awake staring at him, so lost in the feeling of his hot cock pressing against your bump.
You brought your hand over his cock, making him hiss out loud. He started entirely thrusting, your hand perfectly trapping his length against your belly.
A few more desperate huffs and Joel was cumming with drawn out moans, hot ropes of his seed spilling all over your mound.
He sat up and fisted his dick, dribbling the last few drops, onto you.
Joel leaned back with his hand propping his head up to admire his work. He swirled his finger over the puddle, drawing patterns on to your skin.
."What are you doing?" You asked.
"'m makin art."
He propped himself on his knees and started caressing your belly with the palm of his hand, smearing his cum all over, rubbing it in.
"Joooeelll," you whined. "Makin a mess."
"Nah uh. It's mositurizer," he stated, pride plastered over his face as he admired the way youe entire belly gleamed in the moonlight from his cum, extremely pleased with his work.
You stared blankly at him.
"Joel, what the actual fuck."
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Psssst 🧐
https://www.instagram.com/p/Cw9iAu-uBkw/?igshid=NzZhOTFlYzFmZQ==
I just came. 💦💦💦💦
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What I say guys… pa’ su gusto muchachines.
Foodie
A/n: I... Ya no sé mi gente. Ayúdame virgencita mía. For the people that are into Feedism(?) Feederism(?) and weight gain, I give you this...
Warnings: This is literally fetish fanfic but what isn’t at this point 🙃, Smut, feeder/Feedee stuff, Miguel is big, not just chubby anymore, tres leches cake...
His hands were playing with the buttons of his dress shirt, his face almost turning red from exertion. He had drops of sweat going down his forehead and dripping to his chin.
...or was that just his drool?
You shift in your seat, not oblivious to the way his belly was cutting into the table and wasn't an hour before, or how his thumb was pushing at his belt, making his gut spring forth underneath his shirt and thrust through the button and zipper of his pants.
Date night in. His idea. And of course, it was his idea because he barely knew how to heat up water by himself.
Your food... it was like a drug to him, always has been. But the latest version of his suppressant, the one that keeps his spider DNA in check. It made him feel as if he were starving.
All the damn time.
He notices your stare and for a second, he feels the prickle of shame go up his throat. You made enough food for a small backyard party, supposedly to save you the time to cook for the rest of the week.
The table was full of trays of food and his plate had piled on with what felt like most if not all of it the second he sat down.
It's gone, some of it scattered over his lips and chin, some driblets fallen down to his chest but then flicked off by his thumb and directed into his mouth to suck with a heady moan of gluttonous satisfaction.
He leans back against the chair, he could barely speak, his jaw tired from chewing and his mind numb and sleepy. A small soft moan falls between his lips as his belly gurgles, now tight and red, pressing down against his crotch and lap.
Your thighs flexed and you crossed your legs with a squeeze. Eye contact was avoided, and you took a shaky breath in.
The wooden chair creaked underneath him and your eyes widened, your body flushing with intense heat. That was new…
He knew you liked it. He would often catch you staring as he struggled to pull up his pants, his underwear tightening around his hips and his loose shirts becoming form fitting and small.
You’d wrap your arms around him from behind more frequently, feel his chunkiness grow underneath your palm each and every day.
You’d watch him go out for hero work at night or whenever he was needed, his suit conforming to each deepening roll, each pound of fat and each new crevice of his body.
His strength was still there, the muscles on his thighs and arms still somewhat visible. But sometimes he felt as if he were on the verge of waddling. All because of his gut.
Like now, standing up with the help of your dining table and grunting with effort, his body turning slowly like a wrecking ball towards the bedroom-
“I have cake.”
You stand, both palms on the table, watching him with eagerness as you say those three words with surprising conviction.
He loved that about you. His stomach grumbles, he could feel his jaw unhinging and his mouth water. Always wanting to take care of him.
…
You cup his cheek, leaving a sweet kiss on his now fully developed extra chin. He hums in appreciation, his lips around the curve of the spoon in your hand, not letting go until it was spotless of the sticky dessert of tres leches.
He has the urge to ask if you had left over condensed milk, his mouth waters just thinking of gulping down the thick sugary syrup… to feel it heavy in his stomach and relieving him of the hunger he knew would rise hours later.
He suddenly lifted a carton of milk to his lips and you could hear the glug glug glug as he swallowed, his throat bulging from the liquid.
You couldn’t help it, your hand started massaging his swollen and tight belly, bloated with food and churning as it tried to keep up with the latter half of the tray of dessert.
“Full?” you ask innocently, pressing down against the obvious swell of packed in dinner and cake. He nodded faintly, he shifted at your touch and the couch cushions creaked with his immense weight.
You lifted your skirt, having your cunt press against his thick fat thigh as you ground down on it slowly.
You could hear the bubbles of digestion in his stomach, feel the way his breaths have gotten heavy and were heaving his belly up and down in synchrony.
The front of his pants left him exposed in his boxers, dick pressed tightly against the newly acquired fat and gut from above.
He was hard, swollen purple mushroom tip peaking beneath the fabric and leaking pre so much it was smothering his undergut wet and darkening the fabric of his underwear.
He groans in response, his hand lifting his belly up and down repeatedly, stimulating his cock further.
“Mmph… going to regret this…” he moans.
He was, if only for a couple of seconds before he would start binge eating again. Now he was liking this, the feeling of fullness, the comfort of your care and attention.
Ever since the new side effect from the suppressant had first manifested, he's been trying to "fix" it. The formula hasn’t been touched in weeks; his mind was elsewhere in his downtime.
You pinched his cheek, cooing. He looked like a big bear, gobbling up what he could as if filling up for the winter.
The carton of milk was brought to his lips once more, attempting to wash down the thick mass of cake and sugar still being chewed on in his mouth.
A thick swallow made him grunt and wince, he paused.
One by one, the buttons of his shirt open, a faint stretch and pop with each one. Only one survived, the button between his growing ‘pectorals’ and his massive gut.
He should have fixed the problem with the newest batch sooner instead of having "one more snack" to make his stomach stop growling.
Sadly, for him, it never did stop nowadays.
You start to press light kisses up his neck, lips wandering over to his.
He grunted. Hands finding themselves to your waist as your tongue slithered into his mouth. You tasted sweet, he moaned at the feeling of your body pressing him down on the couch.
With your body on top of his belly, you kiss him as if you had enjoyed watching him stuff himself like a pig, as if you wanted to see him struggle getting to bed and make the frame shake as he sat down.
He was in denial. Still was as you lifted his gut up slightly to start jerking him off.
This was temporary, he would tell himself every time he saw his gut start to block the sight of his feet further and further.
But was it? He practically had a multiverse of Spider-men on call, he wasn't needed to fight. Not with the number of eager heroes at his disposal.
He looks down at himself in a daze. Miguel's eyes were zeroing in on the lard sitting on his lap, jiggling each time your hips moved and your body lowered to be able to kiss down to his chest.
"Jesus I-"
You press a finger to his lips and then give him another spoonful. He was getting full, his belly starting to ache. He tried to protest but his mouth was too full of cake.
"Shh..."
Your eyes flutter and stare up at him, tongue flicking out to lick at his nipple as he swallows and groans at the taste. He flushes in embarrassment. It looked like he had breasts, one resting against his stomach and the other in your palm being squeezed and fondled.
Your knees were pressed against fat; supple and pliable, soft and blubbery. You unbuttoned the last button, the one that had survived his subconscious stuffing.
Each time he had to size up Lyla ordered him new clothes automatically, often times finding the same design but in a larger size.
You didn’t tell him you would replace them almost every week but he knew, sensing your need to treat him and his ‘condition’ delicately. Somehow, you had forgotten to replace the newest sets, conveniently leaving the box Lyla had ordered under the bed.
"So handsome, big boy."
He pursed his lips, face flushing in embarrassment. He felt so full, a hand was pressing against his lower stomach, the other gliding against his wet fat cock.
Pressure builds within his throat.
Your hips rock, he feels your folds rub against his skin, he tries to contain it, even as you hum, still pressing your lips over his chest and neck.
The thick belch he let out startled you, it made you freeze in place. He looks down at you and his eyes widen in shock.
Your cunt throbs, your eyes become half lidded and you moan. He feels you grind against him harder; his mind starts to fog again.
Your movements, the weight against his belly that made it bob against his throbbing cock and the pressure in his chest and throat made him shake in euphoria.
His cock twitched and spurted as he licked a final spoonful of tres leches clean.
The underside of his gut was covered with his cum, your skirt and the small of your back painted with thick globs of his seed.
He leans back against the couch, the cushions squealing under his sudden weight. His back was soaking wet with sweat, his forehead gleaming against the living room lights.
You both lay there, your hands running down his belly, squeezing his growing love handles and kissing between his mounds on his chest as he regained his breath.
His stomach gurgled, he moaned. You’re suddenly lifted, his hands dragging your hips up his body to make his chin bump against your cunt.
He was starting to salivate, and his thick fingers were kneading your thigh.
He was hungry again.
——————————
A/n: Don’t know if this fetish is for me tbh, but it was fun to write! I’m just Mexican and the act of feeding people and giving food is a way of life at this point.
Let me know if y’all want more… ✨🩰✨
Viva México Cabrónes, if you don't reblog and comment you're racist. (JK or am I?)
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Parásitos Masterlist
Endo:
Summary: Miguel thinks he can take over another family without consequences.
Butterfly:
Summary: Miguel hates Venn Diagrams.
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Ima do something and if I’m called out whatever honestly. Ima do something for the weight gain fetishists or whatever they’re called.
I FOUND MORE
https://www.instagram.com/p/Cw8FeaELBxn/?igshid=NzZhOTFlYzFmZQ==
I need him carnally. No cus why is dad bod Miggy trending? I’ve noted there’s a lot of fetishy fanart and now the tamer stuff is coming out…
The stages of grief fr
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I FOUND MORE
https://www.instagram.com/p/Cw8FeaELBxn/?igshid=NzZhOTFlYzFmZQ==
I need him carnally. No cus why is dad bod Miggy trending? I’ve noted there’s a lot of fetishy fanart and now the tamer stuff is coming out…
The stages of grief fr
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Also, just saw a little girl and her dad and I wanted to violently sob.
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Angelique Boyer and Sebastián Rulli are so goals. Like I be smiling when I see a video of them omgggg
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I must be tripping because I feel so alone in this prestigious ass school. Like I see another Latino and I get excited and it’s automatically flamed out because they don’t give a fuck that I’m also latina??? Like… I get excited seeing people that look like my cousins and my siblings because I don’t see professors or students that get honor rolls that look like family where I’m from.
Then I find out they’re second or third generation Latinos and it just… 💀
The latinos that come to my school are the latinos that lived in mansions and two story houses and it shows…
In my old school there was a sense of community and family and here it just feels like we’re competing with each other. It sucks.
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OMFGGG INSTAGRAM KEEPS SHOWING ME DAD BOD MIGUEL
https://www.instagram.com/p/Cw4kVuPP0m2/?igshid=NzZhOTFlYzFmZQ==
I need to stuff my face in his belly.
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If you start seeing some other account posting fics that I have posted just know that it's me guys. I think my shit only works on my main, so that's what ima do.
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Nnnnnnngggghhh 😩
I’ve been saying this for months! DAD BOD MIGUEL!! RAAAAH 🦅🦅🦅
My favorite Miguel pic of all time: dad bod Miguel 🥵🥵🥵
🔥🔥🔥Art by Newspapertaxiis on Twitter 🔥🔥🔥
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I FOUND DAD BOD KINDA CHUBBY MIGUEL
https://www.instagram.com/p/CwzGiZHP5Xo/?igshid=NzZhOTFlYzFmZQ==
Came. I’m ded. I need his soul. Thank you for sending me this! 🤩🤩🤩
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I’ll write a little chubby Miguel thing, sucking his man tiddies.
Something for the kids as I transition out of here.
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To that one anon that sent me that one weight gain art…
I found the artist again on my for you and I- why’s it kinda… 🫣🫢
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Me when I fall in love with the large chubby and muscular Mexican bodyguard at work. 😟
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