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narrycherries · 9 months

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living in a daydream (part2)

Once Harry returns from his business trip, things become tense.

masterlist

word count: 8.9k

warnings/tags: harry x reader, smut, mature situations, affairs, angst, short series, sensitive topics

The dinner was fine, as far as the food at least. You had to sit right next to David, despite him probably wishing you weren’t. You had to be the good wife on display. The trophy that is his. Harry wasn’t at the same table as you. He wasn’t even on the same side of the ballroom. It made you extremely upset, but you had to pretend that everything was fine. You distracted yourself with pushing the crumbs from your cheesecake around the plate with your fork.

The time went by very slowly. You wished you could just get up from the table and run away with Harry. Or at this point, just run the hell away from here. David turned to you suddenly, slightly scaring you. His voice was cold and almost toneless as he spoke.

“Be at the front entrance at 9. Don’t eat any more dessert.” He glanced down at your plate, then to your stomach.

You gulped, trying not to let tears form in your eyes. He was always making snide, subtle comments on your weight any chance he could get. You gave him a nod, then checked the time.

“Okay. I’ll probably go out by the fountain in the courtyard-“

“Whatever.” He stood up, not even listening to you, and walked away to go find whoever he wanted to talk business with.

Once he was out of your sight, you felt free. A sigh of relief came out of you as you looked down and saw a text from Harry that came just seconds ago.

From Harry: I’m caught up in a conversation right now.. are you alone?

To Harry: yes he finally let me off my leash..

You guzzled the water out of the glass, feeling excited about the fact you’ll be with Harry soon. You tapped your fingers on the table, waiting patiently for him to reply. People were walking around the big room, so you couldn’t see him anywhere.

From Harry: meet you in ten minutes, promise xx

To Harry: okay <3 i miss you

From Harry: I miss you way more honey. Can’t wait to see you

You got up from the table and grabbed your small purse. You headed straight for the lobby to get on the elevator, not giving a damn who saw you or who wondered what you were doing. At this point, you didn’t care about being caught or suspected. Harry was all you wanted and no one was going to stop you from getting him.

To Harry: I’m kinda sad right now.

From Harry: why’s that baby? :( what did he say to you?

Harry knew your marriage better than your husband probably did. He was aware of the rude comments you alway got and the way you were ignored on the daily. It made him very angry at times, especially when you tell him things that were said to you. So, you knew that telling him this wouldn’t make him happy.

To Harry: he just said to not eat anymore dessert.. then he looked at my stomach :/

You quickly found the room that you always went into. It was darker than before, so you flipped on the light before sitting down in an office chair. The room was filled with boxes and a few chairs. There were a couple tables as well, but that was all. It was just a storage room for the floor.

From Harry: what a fucking idiot.

From Harry: i outta beat the fuck out of him.

From Harry: you’re perfect. You can eat whatever the hell you want.

A soft smile spreads on your mouth. Harry always made sure you felt loved. He always gave your belly and thighs as much love as he did your neck or face. He loved every piece of you and he never wanted you to change a thing about yourself. You were perfect in his eyes, and you were glad. It felt so much easier to be with him than with your husband, especially to be naked with him or even eating with him. Harry made everything so, so much better.

To Harry: be nice baby xx and hurry up please

From Harry: coming now.

From Harry: I’ll be civil.. never nice ;)

It wasn’t long until the door opened and Harry appeared in the room. You jumped up from the chair and ran to him, arms wide open. He chuckled as he embraced you, lifting you off the ground while your arms held on around his neck.

“Oh, baby doll, i missed you so much.”

You grinned as he planted your feet on the ground, your hands moving down the sides of his neck. “I missed you more.”

“I dunno about that.” He smirked, moving forward so his bulge could rub against you.

You licked your lips and smiled while you started to sink down to your knees. He grunted, grabbing your arm to pull you back up. You gave him a pout, not understanding why he wasn’t letting you take him out of his pants yet.

“Forget about me right now.” He said, carefully pushed your dress up to your stomach. “I want to love on you.”

“Don’t be like that.. I wanna make you feel good.” You said with a huff as he turned you around to pull down the zipper.

“I’ll let you, baby, but I wanna taste you right now.”

The thought of his mouth being on you made you more excited, so you didn’t protest. He laid your dress over a box so that it wouldn’t get messed up. Next to go was his shirt. You knew that if he left it on he would soak it with sweat. You started undoing the buttons, and despite wanting to rush into this, he held onto your waist and watched your face, admiring how beautiful you were.

“Wear this shirt again.. I like it.” You said with a smile as you got down to the last button and looked up at him.

“Sure thing, doll.” He winked, then easily slipped the sleeves off his arms and put the shirt with your dress.

You kicked off your heels as he started working with his trousers. He didn’t take them all the way off, just undone them so he could free himself. You grabbed his neck and yanked him towards you, your lips landing on this. Sparks were flying and you felt like a teenager in love. Harry made you feel so alive and free, so happy. You loved nothing more than him.

Harry’s mouth went down your jaw and onto your neck, he was sort of going fast, but you didn’t want to interrupt to say anything. The feeling of his warm hands squeezing and rubbing all over your body was making your heart race. It had felt like years since you last felt his skin on yours.

“C’mere.” Harry broke away from the kiss and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the chair where you had been waiting for him minutes ago.

He sat down and grabbed your waist to guide you onto his thighs. You were glad the chair had no arms. You sat down, arms immediately going around his head and your lips fell against his again. He held tightly onto your hips and helped you rock against his hard on, which was currently smushed between your stomach and his.

“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He mumbled as you started sucking under his ear.

His hand went between your legs and he started to rub you through the thin panties. You moaned heavily, your eyes shutting as you felt the pleasure ripple through your bones. It was incredibly intense.

“Your.. your pants.” You breathed out as Harry spit onto his fingers and returned them, this time slipping them underneath the fabric.

“S’fine. I don’t care.” He shrugged, rubbing circles into your nub.

“Oh, Harry.” You gripped his nape with one hand while the other dropped down to take hold of his length. You were slowly pumping him, trying not to burst so soon. “So good.”

“Yeah? Feels good, hm, angel.” He whispered, his lips connecting to yours for a few moments. When he pulled back he gave you a smirk, pleased by the way your head fell back and a moan erupted from your throat. “Love making you feel so good, baby. Watching you come undone.. fuck.”

“No.” You uttered when he pulled his fingers away to tug your panties aside, exposing your womanhood to him.

“What?” He was slightly confused.

“I.. I don’t like being on top.” You whined out, your lip quivering as your nerves began to freeze over.

Harry sighed back to you. “I’ll move you.”

“Makes me self conscious, baby.. please, Harry.”

He licked his lips and patted your thigh, silently insisting you stand up. It would have been easy for him to lift you up and down, but you both knew you didn’t like it that way. You were too afraid of messing something up. Harry turned you around, grabbing your wrists to press them against the door. This was the normal for your random room hookups. Whenever there was a bed involved, you were always under him - your favorite way.

Harry didn’t waste any time. He spit on the ends of his fingers and rubbed your entrance, then put a little more spit on his tip. He eased into you, knowing you needed a few moments to adjust to him being down there. You moaned softly as he pressed further in, still keeping it slow and steady.

“Fuck.” He grunted out, the tightness closing on him as intense. “Tell me when, baby doll.”

You mumbled a reply back, but you were already so dizzy that you didn’t even comprehend it yourself - so you didn’t know if he heard you either. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed and rubbed his hands down your waist, to your hips, then back under your arms. He was always so patient with you. Besides, now that he’s inside of you feeling your warmth, he wasn’t as uncontrollably horny as before.

After a quiet minute of just simply being filled to the brim with his length, you gave him the approval to go. “Okay, m’good now.”

He shuddered as he pulled out of you and pushed back in. The feeling was intense for both of you, and it felt like forever since you had felt him close up the space inside of you, when in fact he was doing the same thing early this morning.

You were normally quiet while he was thrusting into you, especially when you weren’t in the comfort of his bedroom. He didn’t mind, since the circumstances at the moment weren’t the best. He just wanted you to feel good, and you definitely did. He continued at a steady pace, his hips moving his length in and out of you.

While you let out a moan and threw your head back onto his shoulder, his arm reached around you. He yanked down the lace of your bra cup, exposing a breast that he could knead and squeeze. You forgot to remove the garment, but it didn't matter anymore. Your panties were still on - which was extremely rare and only reserved for situations like this.

Harry continued on, squeezing, thrusting, mumbling - you felt blissful and like you were going to float away any second. Harry never disappointed you when it came to sex. He always, always made sure you were satisfied.

—

It was the last night that Harry would be gone and you wanted it to end as fast as possible. You had already arranged with him for you to come over as soon as he got home. David was told, of course, that you were going to spend time with your sister and take a trip upstate. He didn’t care what you did, as long as you were out of his hair. He had a big week coming up, and thankfully he would be gone the entire time and you could be with Harry. You unfortunately would have to come home Sunday morning just to see him off, and make sure he had all of his things packed. To be so independent and in charge, he always forgot to pack his necessities. You didn’t mind playing the role of the good wife for a few hours whenever necessary.

You were currently sitting on the white leather sofa in your living room. David was in the adjacent chair beside his brother who was over for a visit and dinner. The meal was good, you prepared most of it with the help of his brother on the grill to handle the meat. Other than that, the night was very boring and there was nothing extravagant going on. Each of them had a beer in their hand as they discussed the sport game they were watching on the television.

While they were preoccupied with that, you had your own things going on. You were texting up a storm with Harry, wishing you could just teleport to his location and glue yourself to his body, never having to be apart again. It felt weird knowing he wasn’t in the same city as you. It made your stomach churn.

From Harry: i have so many things planned for us next week xx you’re going to love it darling

To Harry: you’re the sweetest, pumpkin. I miss you so much

From Harry: i miss you more, my love. How is everything?

You glanced from the screen, nobody was paying you any mind per usual. You licked your lips and started to type again. Harry was aware of how things were at your home, so you knew he wouldn’t be surprised.

To Harry: his brother is here. It’s like i don’t even exist :)

From Harry: he’s such a fool.

From Harry: I’m ready to see you. I’m more ready for him to LEAVE though.

A soft giggle slipped past your lips and you quickly controlled yourself, not wanting to make anything obvious or draw any attention your way. You cleared your throat and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

To Harry: me too, trust me!!

To Harry: i just can’t wait to be with you for an entire week xxoo i love youuu

From Harry: i love you more princess xxx

From Harry: my flight should land, if all goes to plan, around three.

To Harry: okay. I’ll meet you at your place

From Harry: you can go there whenever you want, doll. You’ve got a key for a reason xx

To Harry: I’ll just wait.. I already told him when i would be leaving for Kayla’s.

Sometimes you wondered if David ever had any suspicions. Sure, people adore their sisters and loved spending time with them - but the amount of times you “go to stay with your sister” is way above average. You’ve always said your sister, maybe once or twice lied and said your mother’s instead. There was one thing about your sister, though, that you could always rely on - she’d lie for you.

Your mother, father, and sister were the only people aside from Harry’s mother and sister that knew about your relationship with Harry. Your sister was told first, since she was going to be the primary alibi. You were extremely nervous to tell your parents, especially your father, so you waited a few months before saying anything to them. They weren’t happy at first, but the more you explained how horrible your marriage was and how wonderful Harry was, they started to understand.

They haven’t ever met him, though. You didn’t want to cross that bridge just yet. You haven’t met his family either. It’s been strictly kept between you and him. The less outsiders the better.

David was either clueless or he simply didn’t give a damn. This has been going on for almost a year and nothing has been brought up. Not even a question about what you do with your sister. He just never asked anything. Part of you believed he knew something was off, but he just wasn’t sure. Maybe he thought going to your sisters was a way of getting away from him. You didn’t care at this point if he did find out.

That night went by extremely slowly. You hardly slept any. All you could think about was Harry. You knew his flight would be leaving early in the morning, and you hoped that everything went well here so you could be gone in time. You wanted to be with him more than ever now, but you told yourself you were just missing him because you knew he wasn’t just down the road. He was hours away from you and you weren’t really coping with that well.

Your night was just like your usual ones here at home. David had his back to you, way on the other side of the king sized bed, and you had your back to him. You didn’t get touched, didn’t even get a kiss goodnight. You never did, so it didn’t bother you at all anymore. Except for when Harry did it - that’s when you realized how horrible your marriage was. This man who has no real, legal commitment to you at all, someone who could just leave whenever he wanted and never speak to you again - someone you hadn’t vowed your life to.. loved you more than the man you married.

You were zipping up your duffle bag the moment that David walked into the bedroom. Usually you just took random changes of clothes with you since Harry has stocked his home with things for you. You just had to keep up with the lie - packing to go stay with your sister.

“You’re coming back Sunday to pack my bag.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a command. You gulped gently, trying not to let it bother you and ruin your mood. You looked over your shoulder, but he was in the closet now paying you any visual attention.

“I always pack your bag. You’d leave everything if I didn’t.”

He didn’t reply to you but you didn’t care. You put the strap of the bag over your shoulder and grabbed your purse off the bed. Without saying a word to him, you left the bedroom and headed for the stairs. He didn’t chase after you to kiss you goodbye or even ask if you were heading out. He didn’t care, and neither did you.

Once you were alone in your car, you pulled out your phone in hopes of calling Harry, but a text message stopped you from doing so. The message was sent about five minutes ago, so you knew it was still relevant. You huffed, annoyed by the sudden delay, but started up the car anyways. You have a key to his place, so you were going to go ahead and go.

From Harry: hey baby xx I’ve landed but there’s been a mix up at the airport with luggage. I’ve got horrible service, tried to call but i couldn’t get it go through. Head to my place. I love you bunches baby, can’t wait to see you xx

You typed up a quick response before leaving the driveway. This seemed to be the longest three days of your life since he’s been gone. During the day, he was hardly able to text you because he was stuck in very important meetings. In the evenings, he was tired and you’d FaceTime secretly while you were in the tub. He fell asleep on you almost every night. It was hard with him being away, and you were both glad he was home for a while.

During your drive, your mind got lost a few times. At one point you were thinking about your prenup. Part of you wanted to just admit to your husband that you were having an affair and that you wanted a divorce - but you knew damn well you couldn’t go through with what the prenup stated. There was no way you could pay him monthly - mainly because you didn’t have a job and wouldn’t even know where to start. You’re twenty four, you’ve been married for three years and your husband is rich. You’ve never had to work a day since you met him. Harry was wealthier, so there would be no point in you working if you were with him either. You had to find a way out of the marriage. You wished and prayed daily that your husband would have an affair so he could be the one paying you.

It wasn’t about the money. It’s never been about the money. But, if he were the one to break it, then it would be him paying monthly and not you. You couldn’t care less about his money. You wanted nothing to do with him, wanted to be far away and legally free. But marriage is a tricky thing, and you regret ever saying yes to his engagement. He loved you once, long ago, but it had definitely faded away since then.

When the door of Harry’s condo finally opened, you were dozing off in his bed dressed in only your sports bra and underwear. He noticed how quiet it was, but he saw signs that you were here. Your belongings were sitting on the couch and there was a half full glass of water sitting on the coffee table that he definitely didn’t leave behind.

He toed off his shoes by the door and sat his luggage down, not bothering with putting anything away right now. He gently opened the bedroom door in case you were asleep in there. A smile spread over his lips as he saw you, eyes closed and head against the pillow.

“Baby doll.” He mumbled as he climbed onto the bed, leaning down so his lips were against the corner of your mouth. “Baby, m’home, my love.”

You grunted, furrowing your brows as you heard his voice but you were too tired to open your eyes. It was only the afternoon, but you hardly slept last night. The comfort of his bed was far more relaxing than the one your husband sleeps in. There was something about his scent on the blankets and pillows that made you feel at ease.

“Sleepy girl.” He kissed your forehead softly. “I love you, darling. I’ll change and come take a nap with you.”

You muttered to him, but it wasn’t anything sensible. Harry quickly changed and climbed back into the bed with you, this time slipping under the covers and wrapping both arms around you.

“Harry.” You finally realized he was really there.

“My girl.” He kissed your temple. “I’ve missed you.”

You hummed against his warm chest, feeling like you were finally home. “Don’t leave me ever again.”

He chuckled gently. “Did you miss me, hm?”

“Lots.” You nodded, the whisper was soft and airy.

You were trying to fight your sleepiness because you wanted to spend every moment with him that you could for the next couple of days. Despite only having to go home for a short time on Sunday, you knew it would still be a long time without him. These days, you crave to get as much of him as you can.

“Yeah? I can imagine, baby.” He started to rub his hand up and down your back. “Why are you so sleepy this time of day, hm? Did you not sleep well last night?”

A groan came from you, making him more concerned. He kept his lips pressed against your hairline, just waiting for you to reply to him. The question had irritated you only because you were forced to think about David - and right now, you didn’t want to even remember that he existed.

“I never sleep good without you.. and I was out of melatonin.”

Harry sighed. “I’m sorry, lovey. It just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it? I’ve.. noticed.”

You nodded again. “A lot worse.. each time I go back.”

“God, I wish I could just pack you up and run away.”

You tucked both of your arms against his chest, trying to stay warm. “You can.. I can just disappear with you.”

He smiled gently. “If we just.. disappeared.. we couldn’t ever get married. You still want that, don’t you?”

“Yes. More than anything.. but.. we have to wait forever. He.. he’ll never.. cheat on me. And you know I can’t.. can’t financially handle the prenup.” Your eyes are wide open now.

You didn’t mind discussing this with Harry, but it always came down to the same thing every time. David had to be the one to cheat on you and there wasn’t anything you could do to make that happen.

“I’ve told you, baby, I can handle it. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll just transfer money to you and make it seem like-“

You didn’t even allow him to finish that. “I’ve told you no, Harry. I don’t want him getting your money.”

He released a deep breath. “If it meant I could finally have you.. then i wouldn’t give a shit, honey. He’d be out of our lives and we could be together.”

An unsettling feeling was bubbling in your stomach. “Please, don’t argue with me about this right now. I.. I’ve already told you I don't want him to get anything from you!”

“At this point you don’t want me to get you at all.” Harry’s voice got slightly louder, but his hands never moved from rubbing your back and your hip.

“It’s not that fuckin’ easy.”

“You’re making it difficult. It can be so, so easy, baby.”

You felt your nerves starting to shake. “Please, stop.”

“Babe, m’just trying to.. to explain how-“

You shoved him away from you, falling onto your back. His arms retracted from your body, knowing that you didn’t want to be touched right now. Your hands covered your face and you held back a scream. It wasn’t tears you were fighting, it was anger.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Harry sat up beside you, but he didn’t make any moves towards you. He lifted his knees and rested his arms on them. “I.. I just want to be with you. I.. I’ll do whatever it takes to have you all to myself.”

Your hands fell, but you didn’t open your eyes. “I know that, Harry. But.. you know the conditions I have. I don’t want you giving him any money in any way. Alimony is.. is not yours to pay. You didn’t make this commitment, I did.”

He stayed silent for his own sake, so he wouldn’t make the situation any worse. You opened your eyes just to glue them to the ceiling. Every time this conversation came up you got very annoyed and it always resulted in a fight. You hated fighting with him.

“Okay.”

Your heart ached as his reply was barely audible. Harry had a lot of control when it came to his agitations and anger, so you never worried about him getting too upset with you. But, in the moment, you could tell he wasn’t happy with what you were saying. You sat up beside him, pushing the covers off of your body. He didn’t move as you leaned against his body, your arm snaking around his lower back.

Your hand curled around his elbow as the other rested on his waist. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You won’t like it.” He shook his head gently.

“We have to talk about these things.. so we don’t stay mad all day.” You reminded him of something he once said to you.

You watched his tongue dart out to coat his lips, then he furrowed his brows while his eyelids fell shut. He was definitely affected by some thought he was having, and you hated knowing he was upset. It made your stomach churn, because you felt like you had disappointed him in some way - and like you haven’t done enough to comfort him.

“Baby, please. I.. I won’t be mad.” You whispered softly against his bicep, your lips pecking his skin a moment after.

“I.. I feel like we could have.. avoided all this time.. all this time we’ve wasted.”

For a second, you were confused by what he meant. Before you let yourself overthink it, you simply asked. “What.. what time?”

His eyes opened, but they stared down at the cover. “It’s been eleven months.. and.. I just feel like.. we’ve been wasting all this time.. when we could just.. or, you, could just.. file for divorce and let me.. financially handle everything.”

He paused. You didn’t want to interrupt him, so you just waited. His voice was low and he was almost mumbling - which told you enough. He was really upset by this and he was being honest with you.

“I understand that.. you feel responsible for.. for the prenup but.. I’m wondering if.. if it’s even worth it to stay with him at this point. Like.. am I not.. showing enough that.. that i want to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“Harry-“

“I have plenty of money. Money I’ll never use up.. and you won’t let me.. do this. You won't let me do this for us.. for you.” He continued, not wanting you to cut him off at this point. “It’s nothing to do with your family. You’ve said they approve. There’s no children involved.. nothing complicated. Just.. just the alimony. And I could easily handle it.”

When he finally came to a stopping point, you licked your lips and swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat. You slid your hand down to his wrist, then slowly onto his hand to touch his fingers. He had a few rings on, and they were oddly warm against your skin.

“This is.. the hardest thing I’ve ever had to think about. Don’t.. don’t think that i haven’t considered that before.”

He shrugged. “Do.. do you still.. love him? Is that what it is?”

“What? No.”

“Because I can’t think of anything else. If you love him.. you wouldn’t want to leave him.. and you wouldn’t want me to do anything to assist you in leaving him.”

The heartbreak was evident in his tone, and you could tell by the broken sounds that he was holding back tears. Harry rarely cried in front of you, but you still knew the signs. You slotted your fingers with his and gave him a hard squeeze, but he did not return the gesture like he always did. You felt hopeless.

“I do not love him. I.. I loved him a long time ago.. but he’s shown and proved to me that he doesn’t care about me. I don’t love him anymore. I don’t even like him. Please, please don’t.. don’t ever ask me that again.” You felt a few tears trickle down your cheeks. “I only love you. You’re the only person I want, Harry. And it.. it really hurts me to know that.. that you doubt that.”

“I only fucking doubt it because you won’t file for divorce!” He yelled at you for the first time during the argument. “And that hurts me, baby! That hurts me a fuckin’ lot.”

As you witnessed his face flushing and his skin getting extremely warm, you choked down the angry words you were going to yell back. You were sad because he raised his voice at you, but you quickly realized he hadn’t done anything wrong. He was completely reasonable and upset, and that made you cry a little more. When you didn’t say anything, he decided to.

“Maybe.. maybe you should go stay with your sister for a few days.”

You whined as he tried to move away from you. “No, Harry, please.”

He was releasing tears at this point and he didn’t want you to see him break down, so he was trying his best to escape. You sunk your nails into his hand, trying to anchor him down but he was trying to shake you off.

“Don’t.. don’t make me leave.” You begged in a broken whisper. “We’re just.. just both tired right now and we’re irritated.. please.”

He didn’t say anything as he finally got you off him. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and walked to the door.

“Do.. do i really have to go?” You sounded like a disappointed child.

When he stopped in the doorway, you were praying that he’d turn around and run back to you. But he didn’t even glance over his shoulder. He grabbed the doorframe, his arm raised above his head. He stayed silent for a long moment. Your heart was racing, afraid of what he would say to you. If Harry didn’t want you around, then you were truly useless.

“No. Of course not.” He finally sighed, shaking his head just a little. “Just.. give me some space for a while.”

He left the spot before you could say anything. You felt absolutely defeated. It would be your luck that this would happen. He was just trying to express his feelings to you and you weren’t able to give him any good explanations that he hadn’t already heard. You knew there were things you hadn’t told him, things you were holding off on and.. things you never wanted to tell him.

The longer you sat in the bedroom alone, the more you thought about those things. You loved him more than anything, and he deserved to know everything.

You had been sitting in the bathtub so long that your skin was wrinkling up. You had only planned to take a shower, but after you washed your hair you got extremely tired of standing and just wanted to relax in some hot water. You weren’t sure of the time or how long you had been in here, but you knew one thing - Harry hadn’t checked up on you like he normally would. Part of you was hurt by it, but the rest of you understood.

Finally, you decided to get out of the bath. Your hair was halfway dry by now, so you had been sitting for a while. You wrapped the towel around your body and flicked off the light. You didn’t expect the bedroom to be occupied, but it was. Harry was laying on his back under the covers, one arm under his head and the other hand holding his phone. He glanced at you when you shut the bathroom door, but you didn’t catch it.

Quietly, hoping not to disturb him, you walked over to the big dresser and pulled out the middle drawer where your underwear and pajamas were. You grabbed a pair and opted for a loose tank top. For a second, you held your breath and squeezed your eyes shut. Did he want you to get dressed in here? Did he even want to see you? You weren’t sure, so you just picked your phone up off the end of the bed where you had left it before your bath and disappeared into the bathroom.

You couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror, only because you were so upset about what happened earlier today. It was one of the most upsetting arguments you had had with him. He’s never requested you to stay away from him before, never spent hours by himself when you were in the home with him. It was strange and unusual and you prayed it would never happen again.

Once you were dressed, you brushed your hair and twisted it into a braid to keep it out of your face while you slept. You took a deep breath as you turned the knob and opened the door yet again. This time, you saw his eyes as they landed on you. He didn’t look away like before, he followed you as you walked to the bedroom door. You didn’t say a word as you left and made the journey out to the living room. You were very sleepy and ready for bed, but you didn’t want to lay down with him still awake. You wanted to avoid any confrontation and you were afraid he would say something and start the argument all over again.

You got settled on the couch and threw the thin blanket over your body, it always laid on the back of the couch. You had the remote, ready to find something to distract you from what was actually going on. Five or so minutes had passed once you found a movie that was on. You were partially paying attention, but mostly zoning out not thinking about anything. You wanted to vanish, wanted to just forget this afternoon all together.

The vibration of your phone beside you on the cushion made you jump. You forgot you even had it. When you grabbed it, it went off again. You gulped harshly as you saw what it was. You felt an extreme nervousness take over your body.

From Harry: are you coming to bed?

From Harry: you don’t have to if you’re not tired.

Your stomach was churning at the thought of being with him right now. Of course you wanted to, but the guilt you were feeling was eating you up inside. You bit down on your cheek as you typed something back to him.

To Harry: I’m not tired. Watching a movie.

There was one thing in particular that you wanted to tell him, but you were refraining from doing so in case it rubbed him the wrong way. It was one of the most major things that had ever happened to you, in your life and in your marriage. You wanted him to know, but you were so afraid of ruining what you had with him. At this point though, weren’t you just making things worse by not telling him?

From Harry: you can put the movie on in here..

It was easy to tell that he wanted you to come back there, but you knew it wasn’t a good time. You needed to just let this night sizzle out on its own, and if that meant being in here for a while until he was asleep.. then that’s what you would do.

To Harry: I’m already comfy in here. :/

His replies were getting quicker, and you felt a bit of nausea.

From Harry: okay. I’m going to sleep. I love you.

From Harry: come to bed whenever you’re ready.

You sucked in a breath, holding your eyes shut for a very long moment. You wanted to get up and run back there to him, curl up beside him and let him hold you while you slept. But you didn’t move.

To Harry: okay. I love you too.

An hour had gone by and the movie had finally gone off. You weren’t even sure how you stayed awake this long. Maybe it was the constant worry keeping your brain active? You stood up from the couch and stretched your limbs. It was time for bed, whether he was awake or not. You didn’t care at this point. You were exhausted and you wanted to sleep.

The bedroom was quiet when you walked in. The lights were off, but the curtains were drawn back. The combination of the lights from the city and the moon high in the sky lit up the room with a white glow. You saw Harry laying on his side, facing the open side of the bed where you’d be sleeping.

His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. He was making little grunting sounds, so you knew he was. You got under the covers and shuddered as you felt his warmth that had been trapped under there. You scooted closer to him, turning onto your side so you could feel his heat.

He never moved or even twitched as you got comfortable about six inches away from him. Your face was level with his, and you were admiring his relaxed features. His cheeks were red, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was anything to be worried about in this lighting. Maybe he was just warm? He did cry a lot by himself earlier, perhaps his cheeks are still recovering?

You couldn’t resist staring at him. It was silent in the room, only his little grunting sounds filled the space between you two. You reached under the covers and searched for his hand. It was resting on his hip. You picked it up so you could move it onto your waist. You made sure it was against your skin and the shirt you were wearing was pushed up. The heat from his palm immediately soothed you.

He must have instinctively noticed you were beside him, because his arm came from under his pillow and pushed its way under your neck. His hand fell down to the small of your back and he drug you closer. You whimpered as you were finally against him the way you wanted to be hours ago.

You didn’t want to disturb him, but you couldn’t hold back anymore. You had spent entirely too long not speaking or interacting with him today and you were sick of it. You sat your hand on his bare chest, pushing slightly against him as you mumbled his name. He didn’t stir. You started to shake him, speaking a bit louder.

“Harry, wake up.”

He grunted, but still didn’t wake up. You sighed and slid your hand up to his neck, then to his jaw. You rubbed your thumb over his stubbly skin and tried again.

“Harry, please wake up, baby. I need to tell you something.” Your voice was at a normal volume now.

He furrowed his brows and groaned. He was starting to wake up but you could tell he was trying his best to fight it and stay asleep.

“Please, bubby, wake up.” You tilted your head back slightly so could you press your lips against his.

He hummed, his hand gripping one side of your ass as he felt your body in his arms. You pecked his lips again, trying your best to wake him up gently.

“Hey, wake up, baby. I need to tell you something.”

Your efforts were finally paying off. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to stay asleep but he was already aware. You smiled faintly as you watched him snarl his lip up and grunt again.

“What, baby?” He muttered out, his voice thick and groggy.

“Wake up.. i need to tell you something.” You said again, kissing his chin a few times.

“M’up.”

You laughed softly. “Wake all the way up, Harry.”

“M’up.” He repeated, his lips parted as he started to take deep breaths again.

“Please, baby. It’s important.”

Suddenly, his eyes opened and he got worried. He had heard you but he wasn’t able to actually understand what you were saying. So, he thought something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?” He leaned over you, his hand squeezing your waist and the other moved up to touch your face. “Are you hurting?”

You let out a gentle giggle, and sat your hand over his wrist to keep it against your face. “I’m not hurting. I’m okay.”

“Yeah? You’re okay?” He was unsure if you were being honest.

“I promise.” You gently kissed his lips.

“What.. why’d you.. wake me up?” He furrowed his brows again, relaxing himself now. He laid back on his side, and returned his arms to how they were moments ago.

“I wanted to tell you something.. well.. a few things.” You let out a heavy sigh as you got settled beside him, your face just inches from his.

“Alright.” He nodded. “Must be.. important since.. you woke me up, yeah?”

For a second, just a split second - you thought about ditching your plan and just forgetting everything you were going to say. But you knew that would make you feel even more guilty. Plus, you had already woken him up and he was probably not going to like it if you told him never mind..

With all the strength left in your heart, you took a deep breath. “First, I’m sorry that I made you mad earlier.”

“That’s okay, baby.” He mumbled, his fingers messing with the thin waistband of your panties. He wanted to knead your hip, but he wasn’t sure if you’d like that right now.

“It’s not okay. I.. I shouldn’t have.. let you walk away..” You frowned at the memory. “I should’ve told you.. all of this then.”

Harry looked at you for a moment, then licked his lips. “It’s okay, I promise. We both got mad.. it happens.”

You didn’t want to go back and forth on why you were in the wrong and why he shouldn’t let you off so easily. That would result in even more fighting and you just weren’t in the mood for that.

“Second.. there’s something I need to tell you.. and just.. listen, okay?”

“Wait.” He suddenly said. “I want you to know something first.”

You nodded, giving him permission to go ahead and speak. He looked sad for a moment as his eyes trailed away from yours. He sat there for a few seconds, then finally moved his gaze back to your eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I.. I’m sorry. I know you.. you love me and i haven’t.. doubted that, ever.” He pressed the pads of his fingers down into your skin. “I just get frustrated because.. he doesn’t deserve you. And every day you’re still married to him is another day that.. that I’m not married to you.”

Marrying Harry was something you had dreamed about. It was also something you had talked about. You both wanted to get married as soon as possible. It was the first thing you planned on doing once your divorce was finalized. You wanted to be his wife more than anything, wanted to be devoted to him and only him. He wanted you to be his, no more sharing you with someone or watching you leave to go to some other man’s home. He wanted you, and you wanted him.

“I’m not mad at you for telling me what was bothering you.” You assured him with a soft kiss to his chin. “I need you to start talking to me more about things like that, don’t hold back. It makes you.. makes you blow up and I’d rather just talk when something’s on your mind than to wait til we fight.”

“I agree.” Harry smiled faintly. “I promise I’ll do better and.. and tell you things.”

“Okay.. um, this is.. something important, okay? And.. I don't want you to.. to think I’m.. trying to.. compromise with you.”

“Hey, whatever it is.. I’ll listen and I’m sure I’ll understand.” He shifted his hand up to your waist, just so he could feel one of the softest, squishiest parts of your body.

You felt a wave of nervousness ripple through your body, but let it pass and didn’t let it consume you. Harry waited patiently, watching your face as you took a few deep breaths. Your eyes opened and met his instantly. It was a hard topic for you to even think about on your own, so you knew this was going to be hard. But there was no other option, you had to do this. Harry deserved to know everything about you, every worry, every struggle, everything.

“I.. I was so in love with David when we first.. first started going out. I.. He promised me.. that all of the dreams i had of.. of big houses and fancy vacations and diamonds and.. everything.. would come true. And, when i married him.. we decided that.. we wanted to wait a few months before.. trying to have a baby.”

Harry was having thoughts about where this story would go, but he didn’t want to say anything or overthink it. He just laid there silently and listened to you, while he rubbed his hand slowly up and down your waist, providing you with warmth and comfort.

“It was probably.. six months after we got married, I.. I found out I was pregnant. But.. four months in.. I had a miscarriage.” You paused as a quick flashback of memories flashed through your mind. “David.. promised me that everything was going to be okay. I.. I was worried that he was mad.. or.. that he wouldn’t want to try again. So, we just took some time off from.. trying.”

There wasn’t a lot Harry didn’t know about, but this was surely one of them. He never even knew David wanted children. He also didn’t know that you wanted to have children.

“After six months we started again. And.. three months later I found out I was pregnant, again. We were both excited. We thought for sure.. for sure this would be a healthy pregnancy. I never.. did anything wrong or.. anything. I was healthy.. so.. the baby should’ve been.”

When you stopped to take a breath and calm your nerves down, Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. Your hand went down from his chest to his abdomen, just feeling his skin was enough to relax you. He leaned back and let you continue.

“I lost the second baby. When I told David.. he.. proceeded to tell me that.. It was for the best because.. how could i ever be a good mother if I couldn’t even carry a baby? It was a sign.. that I was.. worthless. Women are supposed to give their husbands babies.. that’s what he said. But.. I was useless.”

The feelings that erupted in your heart as you repeated the exact words he yelled at you that night made were intense and bone rattling. You felt a sudden sadness come over you.

“That’s when he started to.. ignore me and.. treat me like I was.. a stranger. He didn’t want to try anymore. He.. he said I was.. messed up and he shouldn’t have.. married a woman who.. couldn’t even carry.. a baby..”

“Hey, don’t cry.” Harry finally spoke as he saw your eyes watering over. He understood why you were getting upset, but he didn’t want to see you cry.

“All I’ve ever wanted was a family. I.. I’m not upset about.. the miscarriages, I’m okay now.. not sad anymore.. I.. I just.. still can’t believe he.. he didn’t care enough to try again.. it could have worked the third time. It could have. I.. I know I’ll have babies.. it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I’m sorry that all of this happened.” He whispered, not entirely sure if he should keep talking or not.

“Harry.. m’telling you this because.. i want to know if.. if you want.. children.”

He sighed, and for a moment you expected the absolute worst. “I didn’t for a long time.. and then I met you. And I fell in love with you. I knew that I wouldn’t want to bring children into the world if I couldn’t love their mother. I never loved anyone I was with before you.” He rolled his lips in for a moment as he stared at you. “But I love you more than anything. And I want to give you everything.. and that includes children. If you want to have children, then I will be perfectly okay with doing that with you.”

“It’s what I want the most in life.” You said truthfully, the tears gently slipping down your cheeks. They were no longer sad tears, but tears of hope. “I don’t want to have his children. I stopped wanting that when he.. said those things to me. But you?”

Both of your shaking hands reached up to his face and you held his warm cheeks in your palms. You moved in closer to him, your nose rubbing against his. He curled his arm around your back, pushing you as close as he could to his own body.

“I love you. I would do anything.. anything at all to have a baby with you.” You whispered the words softly against his mouth.

He smiled, squeezing his eyes shut. “We can start whenever you are ready.”

“If you.. promise me we will have a family.. whatever way we might.. have to try.. I’ll let you call that lawyer.. and pay the alimony.. and do whatever else we have to to get my divorce.”

Harry kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You let him roam around for a minute, the feelings making your heart want to explode. It had been forever since you kissed him like this. He hummed in your mouth as he went to pull away. His now swollen lips were still against yours as he began to talk.

“I swear on my life. I don’t care how long we have to try.. whatever procedures.. or adoptions.. surrogates, anything and everything, baby. I want this with you and you only. I’ll give you what you want, what he couldn’t. And I’ll never, ever stop giving you everything you want.”

“I love you.” You whispered carefully against his lips.

“I love you, more.”

a/n: I decided to make part 2 super long to make up for my.. absence 😭 anyways, hope u enjoy! more to come 🩷 this is a limited/short series, so a lot will be going on within each part.

Click here if u want

taglist: @sagcas-latte @lomlhstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harrystylesrealwifeong @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles stuff #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #harry smut #harry fic #harrystylesmasterlist #harry styles fic #harry styles solo #harry styles imagine #harrys house #smut

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lilfatboy100 · 1 year

Text

How I Want to Be

anon asked, so I shall deliver! a death feedism fantasy of mine, courtesy of my dreams! cw: xwg, death feedism, health issues, slob, feedee dom/feeder sub))

My belly groaned and gurgled as corn syrup poured slowly into the soda, my other hand grabbing a big, greasy burger from a plate on my belly. I dipped it in a tub of lard and shovelled it into my mouth, washing it down with heavy cream. By the time I was finished eating, my soda was thick with syrup and had more than tripled in calories and sugar. I could feel my heart squeeze and my belly complain as I guzzled the thick liquid, my entire body hurting and complaining against the layer of greasy fat and junk pressing into my organs.

My heart worked overtime to move blood throughout my fat-choked veins and my lungs barely worked, making me huff and wheeze as I swallowed. Soon after that, my feeder brought me a platter of greasy, shiny food, humming down the hall as I smelled the fresh grease and started salivating.

"Here you go, just as you like it!" he said, "Do you need anything else to drink?"

"Get me some two-liters... *burp* then clean my controller while I eat." I said.

"Of course!" he said, picking up my grease-covered, crumb-filled controller.

I started eating, dipping all of the poorly fried, greasy food into butter, lard, or mayo before stuffing it into my mouth and smearing food on my chins. My body smelled of stale grease, my belly shiny with oil, and I just kept gorging away, killing myself bit by bit with junk. Diabetes made my blood thick like syrup, heart disease and fatty liver disease made me at risk of a heart attack every second, and the cholesterol collecting in my veins made my blood pressure skyrocket.

My feeder rubbed my gurgling belly as I grabbed at the pile of fat on my chest in a futile attempt to do something about an oncoming heart attack, my second one that week. People say your first heart attack makes you aware of all the problems, makes you turn your life around, but it made me realize I was getting closer to dying at the hand of my own fat. I've had several years of heart attacks since my first one at 350 pounds, and I love knowing that I have several per week now, enough that my feeder bought a high-end defibrillator to keep me alive and gaining weight.

I'm having so much fun getting so fat, I won't stop until my last second!

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stuffedteen · 1 year

Text

Tyler Posey grows more than an appetite 🤤

Tyler strutted into his agent, Tom's, office. He had been told Tom had urgent news for him regarding a new role. Tyler was pissed off when he got the call because he was taking this year off and had told Tom he wasn't applying for new roles. He decided to head to Tom's office to sort things out in person.

"Hey Tyler. Do I have news for you man! I've got you a once in a lifetime role! I have Disney on the phone and they think you'd be the perfect next Captain America - you have a massive following from the younger audience and you've got the perfect body for the role. They're looking for a real heartthrob."

"Tom, I told you I'm taking time off. I don't want a role in some stupid action film anyway. Why don't you ever sign me up for respectable, exciting roles instead of boring adventure movies."

"Bro, I've already signed you on so you've got no choice in the matter. You know if you break your contract you'll never get another with Disney, Marvel, Pixar or any other film companies again. Its not your decision to make - you're taking that role"

"Fuck off man - I told you - I'm not looking for work at the moment."

With that Tyler stormed out of the office and went straight to his car. He was furious. How dare Tom sign him up without asking. There was no way he was signing up for this role. Captain America? Tyler would show Tom what a real American would do - he would head straight to MacDonalds.

Tyler ordered a large milkshake and a burger meal with cheese fries. This is what a real American man would do. After stuffing himself with fast food and feeling grease drip down his face he had an idea "I'll show Tom - I'll become a real American man and see if they still want to hire me then." The thought of growing into his American manhood made his heart beat fast in his chest. He drove back through the MacDonalds and ordered 4 burger meals with large fries and milkshakes. The thought of guzzling down 4 large milkshakes made a tent in Tyler's pants as he drove home.

Before he could even get inside he opened the burgers and inhaled them parked outside his house - sauce, grease and crumbs stained his shirt as he shovelled his greasy feast into his mouth. His chin dripped sauce onto his bloated belly and stained his tight white singlet. He guzzled down one milkshake after the other, leaving sweet milk on his upper lip and spilling the thick liquid on his shirt. One his gluttonous feast was devoured he looked down at himself. Tyler felt his member stiffen as he saw his bloated stomach and greasy shirt. "Holy fuck bro, I really am going to become an average American man" **buuuuurrppp**

He went inside and changed into something more comfortable sat down on his couch and started watching TV. But even his favourite jumper felt a bit small after his wild stuffing session. Looking in the mirror he saw that his jumper no longer even covered his belly button. His stomach growled and he realised he was still hungry. "I'm really gonna show Tom" he thought as he picked up the phone to order pizza.

The 5 pizza's he ordered hardly lasted an hour as he mindlessly watch TV and shoved his face with slice after slice. Upon realising he had gotten to his last box Tyler groaned and looking down at his belly. "Holy shit I'm massive" his gut was rock hard and the size of a small basketball in his lap. "This is gonna be easier than I thought. Who knew being an average guy would be so easy." He got up to look for dessert, waddling to the freezer with his swollen belly. He grabbed a tub of ice-cream and stuffed it in his mouth with his hand, feeling the sugar dissolve in his mouth. His belly distended and bulged and it hurt to move.

Tyler burped loudly and slumped back on the couch with two 3l tubs of ice-cream. "I'm not moving from this couch until I'm fucking massive"

Tyler awoke in the morning with a huge hangover, how many beers had he downed. He saw two empty six packs next to the two family sized tubs of ice-cream - now empty. **buurrrrpp** "What a feast!" thought Tyler to himself, placing a hand on his growing stomach and immediately feeling his undies tighten. He lifted his jumper to check and the sight before him made his dick leak "Holy fuck bro - I grew overnight." His bloated, distended gut now sat soft and round around his growing waist.

A week later and his belly had only grown further. He had spent everyday stuffing himself and rubbing his bloated belly and his dick while staring at the TV or playing video games. His shaved stomach was now dark and hairy and his waistline had ballooned. As Tyler stood up to get another six pack of beer he had to use both hands to keep his belly from falling out of his jeans. "Oooofff standing up is too hard" groaned Tyler "I should get my bros to come over so they can play games and fetch booze for me." He reached for his phone and saw 12 missed calls from Tom. "I'll call Dylan and Colton."

"What the fuck had happened to you, bro?" questioned Dylan as soon as he saw Tyler pigging out on the couch. "Have you lost your mind? Tom's told us all about what's going on. Let's go talk with him, please!"

"No man, I'm too turned on by this - I wanna grow, get fucking huge, become a real man. You boys know you want to help your big bro out...

Wanna help me finish these pizzas and bring the beer over?" **buuuurrrrpp**

Colton and Dylan stood with their mouths open, drool dripping down their chins. "Fuck yeah" moaned Colton "we're your bros. Let's see how much we can grow tonight"

Tyler didn't hear anything, his eyes were glued to his TV screen as he watched a MacDonald's ad and stroked his dick through his boxers, but he quickly turned his attention back to his friends. "That sounds great boys, lets do it"

It took the boys 30 minutes to finish all the pizzas, beer and ice-cream in the house so they began to order in. The men stuffed pizzas, burgers, donuts, fish and chips, fried chicken and doners into their growing bellies. Midway through his 7th burger Tyler heard a loud PING and RIIIIPP and saw that Colton's pants had lost their button and Dylan's belt had snapped at the same time. "Way to go bros!" Both boys groaned as the fumbled to take their clothes off their growing bodies and soon all three sat shirtless in their briefs stuffing themselves.

"Fuck this feels good" moaned Dylan. "You said you wanted to grow, bro. How about you let Colton and I turn you into a real American guy."

Tyler was taken aback when Colton grabbed him by his shoulders and stuffed a greasy burger in his mouth. "Eat up bro. Grow bigger. Become a man" **buuuurrrrppp** was the only noise Tyler could make before Dylan was pouring a thick milkshake down Tyler's throat. "Man up Tyler" he ordered.

"Ughhhhhhh" moaned Tyler as he swallowed the milkshake, "I love being a man. I feel myself getting bigger and bigger and I'm so fucking full." He gasped when Dylan squeezed his soft ass and Colton's hand began to pump his dick, "Stop it bro, I'm so full" he groaned. "I gotta stop eating. I can't take anymore."

Dylan and Colton burst out laughing as Tyler's belly expanded with each gulp. Despite his protests Tyler's greedy lips kept devouring every greasy, fatty snack that came his way. His belly was so bloated but it seemed like the only thing he could think about was shoving more food into his mouth. He couldn't believe how easy becoming a man had been - he loved the feeling of his fat spreading across his bulging stomach and his cock throbbing in his pants.

After a few hours of stuffing his stomach, Tyler took up most of his 4 seater couch - his belly, thighs and ass were touching the edges. Even though he was stuffed his mouth lust for more food and beer. "I need more food" he moaned. Dylan and Colton smirked at Tyler and grabbed Tyler's head. Their stomachs bulged with food and their dicks swelled in their pants. "Eat up bro" teased Dylan as they pulled down their tight boxers and shoved their erect members into Tyler's wanting mouth.

His bros' fat dicks filled his mouth. Tyler's jaw ached from the strain but his dick grew harder and harder as he sucked, moaning and grunting with each deep thrust. The motions got faster and Tyler salivated at the taste of his bros' precum. Soon Dylan and Colton held their heads back in ecstasy and Tyler began guzzling cum. His bloated tummy bulged as he swallowed each drop.

When the boys stopped jerking off and drained their balls, Tyler's stomach was so full he could no longer stand. "Time to get up man" moaned Dylan.

"Huh? Bro, I'm so full." Tyler said as he looked down at his bloated stomach and huge, distended gut. He could no longer see past his huge midsection. "This feels so fucking good, bro. I'm never gonna move again. I'll be a real man, my bros will feed me." He looked up to see Colton and Dylan standing above him with their fat dicks out. They were already hard and leaking again. "Looks like its time for round two bro" Colton said.

Tyler smiled with pleasure as his bros pushed their cocks into his mouth and stroked him. He could feel his huge belly bulge outward and he knew that soon even his belly wouldn't be able to hold everything. "I'm gonna get so fucking big. This feels so good, guys." Tyler whimpered as his stomach grew and his ass spread wider.

Guzzling Colton and Dylan's, Tyler moaned in delight as his belly expanded. As soon as they had pulled out, they rolled a now immobile Tyler onto the floor and Dylan stuck his dick back into Tyler's mouth and Colton spread Tyler's growing ass cheeks. Colton started pumping his cock in and out of Tyler's tight hole, filling his ass with hot cum. Dylan groped Tyler's still expanding gut and pumped his dick into Tyler's mouth. "Oh god, I'm gonna explode!" Tyler moaned as Dylan's dick sprayed cum down Tyler's throat and face.

As Tyler continued to gulp down his cum, Colton began shooting cum up Tyler's hole and into his belly. Tyler moaned in pleasure as his belly bulged and expanded in every direction. "Too much, dude," groaned Tyler. "I'm gonna burst"

POP

Commission by zachavinst

let me know if you'd like any art 🤤 (Celebrities, pictures, stories, wishes)

#male weight gain #fat guy #fatboy #tyler posey #tyler posey weight gain #teen wolf

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gem-magpie · 9 months

Text

Gosh, you're fat. You're *so* FAT.

I know you fantasize about it. You dream about being a completely immobile blob of pure hedonistic gluttony, but you forget all too easily that you actually are already *very* fat.

You aren't exactly in denial of it, but you don't tend to truly recognize your real-life achievement when you're busy thinking about being fed by a magical tube until you can't move, or becoming addicted to magical flying cakes.

You're the real deal!

No magic potion did this, no hypnotism necessary, no living slime forced you into what you are. You did this through sheer, unmitigated, piggish overconsumption. You made yourself huge, and you didn't even try.

Let me guess, you're reading this with a sugary drink nearby. Maybe a few empty cans sitting on your desk; calorie bombs that you already guzzled down? Don't worry, I know you needed them to wash down the huge breakfast *and* massive lunch you had today.

No no, you've been responsible, right? Just a little cereal, and a simple sandwich for lunch? A reasonable little ham and cheese?

Maybe you just forgot that you finished the entire box of cereal? I guess you didn't notice that had the majority of a family sized bag of chips with that sandwich as a "side"?

You couldn't stop yourself. With each handful of chips you promised yourself it'd be the last one, but then it wasn't enough. Again and again you stuffed your mouth with those delicious, greasy, salty delights as you searched for the perfect mouthful to end on. Just one more. Just one MORE. Oops, better leave the crumbs. That way you can tell yourself you didn't eat the whole thing. Gosh, You must be *so* full.

Maybe you’re thinking of just a small meal for dinner since you've been gorging yourself silly all day?

Who are we kidding, you're ordering out again aren't you? You did yesterday, and the day before, and you are going to do it again today.

You don't even have the supplies necessary to cook something in your kitchen, do you? Just snacks and drinks to keep yourself stuffed between meals.

You go to the store to pick up "groceries'' and you just end up buying ice cream, frozen pizzas, chips, and soda. You shamelessly place a towering stack of cookies on the checkout belt and pretend not to notice the looks you get. You hope everyone assumes that you're shopping for a family, but you know it's all for you.

You grab a few things here or there that you tell yourself will make for a healthy dinner, but they are just extra calories when you pack your tummy with something fried anyway. No wonder you look more and more like a big, soft ball of dough each day.

Alright, I digress. You're already looking past all the food you already mindlessly shoveled into your fat gut today. Let's get to that delivery order. Of course you're putting in for a large combo. No, wait, a large combo and… a few extra entrees?

Wow, to think I thought you might stop with enough food for just one helpless glutton. You're justifying 3 people’s worth of food to yourself now. Just because you're not ordering 3 large combos doesn't mean you aren't eating three entrees *with* additional sides, you know.

It's okay, just happily plop your fat ass down on the couch and fill your capacious belly with everything you bought. This amount of food doesn't even slow you down anymore, does it? It's actually stunning watching you eat.

As usual, you ate all of that before even one act of your show was up; And, as usual, you're grabbing something more from the fridge to tide you over for the rest of the episode. It's only thirty more minutes, but we both know you really can't go thirty minutes without eating.

Gosh…

It's no wonder none of your clothes really fit. You buy the biggest sizes you can find, and you tell yourself it fits "well enough" because your gut is technically not hanging out of the front of your shirt (yet).

I guess it doesn't matter to you much how tightly it hugs your wobbling chest and generous paunch, huh? I mean, it's drawn so tightly over your body that it's dimpled inward into your cavernous belly button.

You might as well not even wear a shirt with how snugly everything hugs your curves.

You're too fat to even see that, aren't you? You had no idea so much of you was on display even when your clothes "fit". Aww, look at how red you're getting!

Maybe I was wrong earlier when I said you didn't try. You love this. Maybe you wouldn't admit it (yet), but you did all this to yourself *on purpose*.

You love hearing about just how fat you are. You can barely contain your excitement as I describe how blatant it is that you've lost control.

You couldn't stop gorging yourself if you wanted to. You're just too hungry, not to mention you love how soft and heavy you've gotten…

Now that the show's over it's time for some recreational activities. Maybe a walk outside?

No, grab yourself some dessert. You just ate over 2500 calories in fast food and guzzled 32 ounces of soda, but I know it's never enough. Not only is your heaving, plump gut pining for MORE food, you yourself are longing to be bigger.

You managed to squeeze those massive hips of yours into that little office chair. The poor thing looks like it's about to shatter under the weight and pressure of all that fat! Seeing as you're eating sandwich cookies four at a time, and washing them down by chugging milk straight from the carton, I'd guess that's your goal. With every heavy gulp you fantasize about just how amazing it would be if your swelling ass broke the armrests. Then you could get yourself a double-wide chair. I bet it excites you to think about having such a blatant monument to your hedonistic gluttony. Don't worry, you'll get there soon.

Regardless of what you're doing after dinner, the only thing that matters to you is that you're sitting and eating *again*. Honestly I can't believe you can still be hungry after all of that, but the unmistakable roar of that insatiable gut of yours is proof otherwise.

It's OK, it's just a few more hours of continuous eating after you already had a huge dinner. No big deal. It’s super cute, actually. You look so full, and yet you keep going. You’re practically begging for more.

I can't blame you, it feels fantastic to be so blissfully full.

Just think of how fat you could *really* get if you gave in completely to your desire. I would love to help you. There's no need to spend a moment hungry, I'll take care of everything. Give in, and let me make you huge.

Yes? Absolutely.

Finish off that sleeve of cookies for me, ok? Good, now open another. Throw away the wrapping, you won't need to reseal them. Another. More. Another. Don't stop. Eat. Drink. Fill yourself for me.

Let me feel you swell. I want to watch your strained clothing ride up your flesh and expose your taut, bloated belly. I need to hear you burp and moan with the pressure and pleasure of truly giving in. I can't wait to watch it all melt away and fill your lap with more warm fat.

Go on, polish off that bag of chips from earlier. Tip the bag back and prove that you don't need to pretend any more. Never again hold back your gluttony for appearances. You NEED to finish off that calorie loaded, family size sack before bed. A sense of completion is important after a long day to get some decent rest, you know.

And you’ll need plenty of rest to give your body time to grow.

Go ahead, roll your huge, swollen body into bed. I got you a heaping bowl of ice cream to finish off your day. Sweet and salty go so well together. Eat up. Dump some chocolate syrup on top. Treat yourself.

Actually, why not finish the gallon? Even after all I fed you, I can tell it wasn’t enough. I’ve got it nice and melted for you. Good, chug it down. Let it fill you and, if we’re lucky, finally satiate you.

I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast.

Gosh, you're fat. You're *so* FAT.

#Some writing of mine from Twitter improved without character limits #feeding kink #burp kink #feedee feeder #belly expansion #weight gain #fat belly #fatfur #fat #Gluttony #my writing

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sterekchub · 11 months

Text

I’ve been in a MOOD lately (and Tyler’s pics on his IG in that suit were EVERYTHING) so - have a quick massive!Slob!Derek and waiter!Stiles that I wrote for our discord. Like it or just want to talk some fat fandoms! Join us: https://discord.gg/Egyuwx29 (18+ pleaseee)

Derek waddles in one day at his usual time (Stiles knows to expect him- he's always pulled in at 12:00 on the dot, but now his walk to the front door gets longer and longer. Today Stiles watches him for several minutes have to lift his belly away from the steering wheel and swing himself sideways to get out...and he has to stop 3 times to catch his breath).

He sits down in his usual table (the one with a booth only on one side because Stiles had to unscrew it from the ground and push it far enough back Derek could fit his enormous belly in it, and the bench seat is the only thing wide enough to support his beanbag-sized rear end.)

He's still a panting a bit, red in the face and immediately chugs down the pitcher of soda Stiles brings him...doesn't even bother to pour it into his glass.

"Mmm...you smell like a fryer."

"Shut - *wheeze*- up. This is the only suit that fits."

Stiles eyes the suit with amusement. The once white shirt is now off-white with sweat stains and grease stains and numerous stains from countless meals. There are 3 buttons missing and the shirt is several inches from covering the flab that spills out over Derek's waistband and nearly to his knees. Stiles hasn't seen him wearing his suit jacket in at least three years.

"And?"

"...and I haven't been able to fit into my shower for a week," Derek grumbles. "Stupid glass doors."

He fails to mention his car is filled almost to the ceiling with fast food bags and Stiles can *tell* that Derek's had a sizeable breakfast from the way his remaining buttons are stained tightly and Derek keeps lightly rubbing the side of his gut with one hand.

Stiles only grins and hands him the menu, which Derek takes with sticky, sausage sized fingers. "Nothing a big lunch can't fix."

****

Derek orders his usual - which means he burps out he'll have the burger and fries with a small coke. And as usual, Stiles brings over a refilled pitcher of soda, a fryer basket worth of fries and a triple-patty burger, kisses Derek on the cheek and tells him, "Get started on this, Big Guy. I'll start cooking the rest."

He's long since given up on the polite, slow bites of his former self, when he used to feign he was full and leave his meals half empty so he didn't get bloated and ruin his constantly trim figure. Now he digs in, grease and cheese dripping from the burger onto his sagging moobs. He barely takes a pause, shovels it all in, stops only to guzzle down some soda or let out the occasional belch, and goes back to eating.

When there are only a few fries left, Stiles has come over balancing several trays in his arms. Gnocchi, meat-lovers calzone, lobster mac & cheese, a full loaf of garlic bread...and Derek knows that with Stiles in the kitchen? He's loaded as much cream, cheese, and butter into the dishes as he possible can.

It's been their flirting, on-and off game for years. Derek will push himself to the max and eat as much as he can, ignoring the crumbs accumulating on the shelf of his moobs and belly or the pasta sauce smeared over his pudgy cheeks and triple chins, and then sits there as his belly starts grumbling and churning in protest from the heavy weight of all that food sitting in it. Stiles comes over and stands behind him, tells Derek to keep eating as he works on massaging out some of the fullness. Derek dutifully struggles to reach over his stuffed belly and reach for a few more bites- the effort of even that little movement in combination with Stiles' ministrations making Derek let out several long, loud farts. A few hundred pounds ago, he used to be embarrassed by it. He’d make his excuses and hurry off to the bathroom or try or clink his fork loudly against the plate to cover up the sound. He couldn’t hurry anywhere anymore, and he knew Stiles took the sounds of gas from his overworked stomach to mean one thing – his compliments to the chef for the rich, caloric overload. "Sounds like you have room for dessert."

"*Urrrp* give me *huff* a minute, Stiles. Don't think I *uaaarp*didn't notice the *ffffrtttttt* triple portion of gnocchi today."

*** He loses two buttons during dessert as he eats his way through the entire pan of tiramisu. Stiles does miss when Derek could slip away and meet him in the pantry or bathroom stalls for a quick make out session and sloppy blow jobs... Derek's long gotten too fat to fit in the restaurant bathroom, and the door to the pantry had also proven to be too tight a fit- even if he could easily get to his feet after such a big lunch without assistance. And finding Derek’s dick buried in his fatpad and under his rolls of lard is a strenuous, soon to be impossible, activity by itself. So when Derek is done eating, Stiles is painfully hard but reluctantly helps Derek to his feet and walks him to his car, having to barely shuffle his feet to keep up with Derek’s slow waddle.

“I’ll see you at home tonight?”

Derek nods, sweat already beginning to drip down his face from the strenuous, 200 feet walk to his car.

“I’ll bring home dinner.” Derek only burps in response.

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pangtasias-atelier · 9 months

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oh and um maybe an obese tibarn fattening up reyson would be cute too.

Any Tibarn request has me foaming at the mouth. Especially when this was the only one so I went a little crazy and kinda made him bigger whoops ajnssjsnjsb. Also love this ship so I hope you enjoy it!

Warning: This is a fetish story!

Tibarn only gets a few moments to enjoy his meal before he discovers his secret admirer.

Well, not quite so secret admirer, his boyfriend, Reyson watching from afar; the heron sits a couple miles away, gently seated on a tree branch as he tries his best to slowly gaze at the scenery, Tibarn the most enticing subject to look at. Even as Tibarn meets Reyson's gaze, the heron refusing to get caught by slowly turning his head as if actually admiring Serenes Forest and not watching the way Tibarn pits away the food in front of him.

"Hey Reyson, come join me!" Tibarn shouts for his boyfriend. Despite the distance between them, the heightened senses they have easily allows for Reyson to hear his boyfriend. He waves for his heron to come over.

And Reyson does. He covers up his expression of irritation muddled with equal parts of fear and wanting. Long, majestic white wings slowly flap as he makes his way to Tibarn.

Tibarn no longer resembling his former adonis self, the first king of the united bird clan has gained a large amount of weight. A significantly large amount of weight. All of his sculpted muscles that made him resemble more like his beast brethren than his bird kin are washed away by a large wave of lard all over his body. Tibarn’s large, broad pecs are completely replaced by a hefty set of breasts that rival Queen Nailah’s own. Tibarn’s set of sagging tits that come close to rivaling the size of his head rest atop his massive stomach, both flabby breasts splaying down his gut from the sheer size of them. With Tibarn seated on the floor, his large gut uses his own thighs as a cushion; the exposed tanned skin juts out forward on the ground itself with his thick legs that are lined with numerous rolls of squishy adipose spread out to make room for his upper thighs that billow out from the flab contained in them. His thighs squish against the lower bits of stomach fat that lurch forward as well as his bulbous fat pad which struggles against his tight, brand new pants. Tibarn’s rear is squished against the large tree he uses as a backrest, Reyson and Leanne’s seid magic having a greater effect in the area Tibarn is currently in.

Reyson softly lands, his boots slowly descending upon the no longer gray, lifeless forest floor. “Didn’t you eat only an hour ago?”

“You watched me eat then. So you should know,” Despite the small shrug of his shoulders, Tibarn’s face is taken up by the grin on his face. That and the crumbs and smears of food on his portly cheeks.

Reyson scoffs. He also tries his best to make sure the blush on his porcelain skin face doesn’t become obvious. “I watch because you guzzle everything down like it’s going to run away,”

“That’s how I always eat. There’s just less to do now, so I can enjoy myself more,”

“Hmph,”

“Take a seat and relax with me. Enjoy some food while you’re at it,” Tibarn pats the ground beside him and his gut as well; the blubbery gut wobbles in response.

Reyson’s porcelain face is marred by the dark, crimson blush that spreads from ear to ear.

It takes him a moment to decide, Reyson’s white wings furled behind him as he grumbles to himself, but the thin heron does take a seat beside Tibarn.

He’s immediately met with a ridiculously large, flabby arm wrapped around his petite shoulders and nearly getting a faceful of Tibarn’s excessive weight. “See, no need to be shy. Here, I even got you some meat free things,”

Reyson picks at the slice of cake with the fork provided to him. The solid, yellow mass of dessert slightly wobbles with each prick he gives it.

“It’s cheesecake,” Tibarn says after finishing the very last bite of his steak—his second meal for his lunch—and then he places his hand on top of Reyson’s and lifts the plate up higher to him. “At least the beorc did one good thing with all the resources they have. Everything they have tastes much better than most things in Phoenicis,”

With a final huff of air, Reyson blowing the tuft of his bangs that come close to his eyes, he takes a bite of the creamy delicacy. He quickly goes back for another bite. And then another. Metal comes close to scratching the plate. The sugary with a slight hint of saltiness in the crust pairs well with the creamy, silky texture of the cheesecake that’s more tart than cloyingly sweet. “Those beorc can cook. I’ll give them that,” Reyson mutters as he stares at his empty plate right in front of him.

“Hah!” Tibarn erupts into a burst of laughter, his entire frame jiggling as he uproariously laughs at Reyson. Something he doesn’t bother to hide, holding onto his boyfriend for dear life.

Reyson grumbles to himself. Able to peer inside Tibarn’s far too open emotions, Reyson already figures the reason for Tibarn’s behavior. But he still can’t help himself from asking. “Why are you laughing?” Reyson’s jaw is clenched. With a bright red blush, he looks away.

“You look cute when you’re hungry. I’ve never seen you eat like that,” Tibarn drapes himself over Reyson, his mane of black hair on top of Reyson’s own long blonde locks. “You also don’t do a good job of hiding how jealous you are,”

“Hmmph me? I’m sure-”

Tibarn interrupts Reyson. “Then why do you always look at yourself after staring at me?” He gazes into Reyson’s eyes, wide eyes staring back at his own taunting ones.

“I-uh. Ugh. Am I really so obvious?”

“It makes it easier. You clearly don’t mind me being a pig-”

“You’re not a pig. You’re- you’re…” Reyson clamps up.

Tibarn rubs Reyson’s back. He also tries his best but fails to hold back his mild laughter. “Go on. I’m what?” He whispers in his ear, the soft, gentle voice tickling against the tips of Reyson’s pointed ears.

“You look great,” Reyson mumbles his confession to his lap, his thin limbs much more fascinating than anywhere in Tibarn’s general direction.

“I do. And you’d look good with some weight like how you want to. So,” Tibarn grunts as he stands up. Using the tree for leverage, he slowly but surely lifts up his entire bulk off the ground; his gut practically sways in front of Reyson’s face, the sagging, soft belly so tantalizingly close to fondle. “If I’m going to help you, you better get ready for intensive training,”

Reyson takes Tibarn’s hand with only the slightest bit of hesitation. The two taking the handful of dishes back, the small stop is the only detour the two have before they reach Tibarn’s room.

The spacious bedroom is large enough to make even his old room in Phoenicis seem like nothing more than an unimportant count’s. Tibarn’s bed easily commands the most attention in the well furnished room; the enormous mattress is accentuated by the ornate furniture spread throughout his room. Of which, Tibarn leads Reyson over to the wide, sturdy couch.

“Hold on for just a minute,” Tibarn gives Reyson a kiss before leaving his now seated boyfriend with a grin.

And for his part, Reyson does wait. Despite the rising, bubbling mess of nerves that continue to claw up his entire body, he stays seated. Any sort of shock of ridicule that could never happen to begin with—Tibarn’s entire soul on display to Reyson like the gaudy artworks the few times he’s had the misfortune to step into any of Begnion’s expansive manors—the heron still can’t repel his worry.

But thankfully, Tibarn enters soon enough and with a cart in tow. The cart carries a couple of trays along with his gut, the flabby mass of fat oozing onto the cooling metal. “If you want to get big, we got to start strong. And since you can’t eat meat,” Tibarn uncovers the first tray, a mixed combination of pastries awaiting Reyson.

The next sight in front of Reyson shocks him, even after he blinks repeatedly to reaffirm that Tibarn is indeed standing in front of him, the massive hawk’s jutting gut saggins down to nearly touch Reyson’s lap as leans over with a still warm blueberry muffin in his hand.

“You okay?” Tibarn slightly pulls back. He cups Reyson’s face with his portly hand, thumb lightly grazing the edge of Reyson’s lips. “If you’re having second thoughts, then I don’t mind stopping. I don’t want you to feel obligated or hell, if you feel weirded out then—”

Reyson shuts Tibarn up with his lips. “I am fine. Truthfully, I was fearful that somehow you’d ridicule me regardless of how you’d never do something like that,”

“Good. I mean, I’m in no position to be ridiculing anyone,” Tibarn smacks his gut. “But you’re sure you have no reservations?” Tibarn slowly reassuming his position, his other hand using the couch as leverage so as to not come toppling down onto Reyson—an idea the heron tries not to fixate and will into existence—he lovingly gazes down at him.

“Yes. It’s rare to see you of all people worry,” Reyson mentally curses at the bloom of emotion that sparks in Tibarn, once again wishful that Tibarn’s essence weren’t so easy to read.

“I worry when it comes to you,” Despite the words that he truly means, Tibarn immediately brings the muffin to Reyson’s small yet plump lips.

And the heron obligingly eats the pastry. The dense yet moist treat is slowly but surely devoured with every tiny bite he takes as Tibarn presses more and more of it to his lips. And even after Reyson finishes that, another muffin awaits him to be fed to him. Tibarn also has another pastry ready for Reyson to eat by the time he takes a large, already tired swallow of the remnants of the second muffin.

“Oh come on, you can’t be full after just one thing,” Tibarn rests a hand on Reyson’s flat stomach, the rail thin waist being the slightest bit distended.

“Ugh I had the cheesecake mmmphh!”

Tibarn gently smiles down at Reyson. With an eclair in his hand this time, he has the delicacy pressed against his boyfriend’s mouth as he feeds him more. “You said you wanted to get bigger, so I’m here to help,”

Reyson slowly bites at the custard filled dessert. The thick, cloyingly sweet filling falls and spills out, the creamy inside dirtying his lips and cheeks. Any attempt at speaking is denied, Reyson forced to eat more as more of the treat is held and shoved into his mouth. He lets out a small burp after finishing his treat. A tray of cookies immediately presented to him afterwards, Reyson eats those all as well. He has his head tilted back afterwards, clearly not used to anything past the lightest snack.

“We can’t quit now. You only have a bit left,” Tibarn dutifully feeds Reyson a platter of tiny fruit filled knish. The deep fried battered treat ends up going all into his full yet greedy gullet despite the small bit of moans that escape Reyson’s lips. “You’re doing so well. Just focus on eating and I’ll take good care of you,”

Reyson lets out a whimper as Tibarn rubs his tiny little gut. So much food crammed into him now after yet another plate. “Ughhhh just hnnng,,,” Reyson has his eyes closed. All his complaints die in the back of his throat, his breathing picking up as Tibarn leans further down to kiss and tend his aching gut.

“You’re doing perfect. You only have one last thing left for you,”

Reyson doesn't bother hiding his groan. He has both his hands on his gut, the thin stomach now adorned with a small belly with all his food for his comparative size. “Just, buh-uurp, make it quick,” Taking small breaths, he shuts his eyes closed once more as Tibarn brings a large cup to his flushed face.

“This will help you wash everything down,” Tibarn pours the sugary, sweet smoothie down Reyson’s mouth. He watches as he submissively chugs the entire thing without pause, Reyson’s throat bobbing with every single tired gulp he takes. His chugging is accompanied by pathetic little moans, the sounds almost drowned out by the torrent of liquid coming close to overflowing and making a mess of his face as Reyson begins to slow down. His gut grows louder, the small belly audibly churning from the mess of food stuffed inside it.

But before Reyson can give up, Tibarn pulls away the empty glass.

“See. I knew you could do it,” Cleaning up Reyson’s mouth from the bit of spilling, Tibarn finally takes a seat.

“I…” With drowsy eyes, Reyson only leans the back of his head further into the couch. Only able to process his noisy gut, he remains silent. He does rub his churning little distended belly however, both hands caressing it.

Tibarn starts digging into his own plates without abandon. “Just focus on relaxing for now. You did great, but we’re just getting started,”

True to Tibarn’s word, Reyson’s small little stuffing is only the first of countless to come. Tibarn keeps the sessions coming. And Reyson allows them, the tiny heron always eating everything that is handed to him throughout the days despite his stomach protests. And Reyson soon begins to pack on the pounds, a trim waist lovingly fattened up into the very beginning of a belly and even bigger as more and more days go by. The two practically inseparable before, the two growing birds are practically never seen without each other now; the two fat laguz are a sight to behold with their growing waistlines, not that either of them mind. And not that anyone dares to bring up the two’s weight as year’s and events go by, other nation’s festivities takinging into account Tibarn’s large waistline and Reyson’s own hefty one as well. The two fat laguz gaining weight, Reyson’s gains are still slower despite Tibarn’s insistence on fattening him up. Especially as Reyson himself also pushes Tibarn to eat, the small bits of encouragement and fondling initiated by Reyson more than twice so fueling Tibarn to stuff himself further.

Like most of their days, the now married couple are currently in their room after years of living with each other. The state of all the furniture is a true testament to the fine craftsmanship behind every single piece, all of them still intact despite having to withstand so much weight.

“Hahhh, it’s good isn’t it?” The now much fatter Tibarn grins at Reyson. Seated on the couch, the positions of the two are swapped from the very first day of stuffing. Despite having the fat Reyson draped over him, Tibarn still dutifully feeds his husband.

The couch manages to hold up even with the obscene amount of weight that it holds right now. Tibarn seated at the very center of it, his bulk alone takes up almost the entirety of the room on the spacious seating. The absurdly large hawk manages to keep his mobility from his incredibly laguz strength, the nearly half a ton King’s bare minimum of sluggish movements for waddling still a marvel for all the fellow bird laguz in Serenes—the sight even more of a shock to visiting beorc dignitaries and the bird’s beast and dragon brethren despite the tales of such a hedonistically fat laguz royal. Though with him being so fat enough to be on the last vestiges of mobility, Tibarn is far too large for any sort of clothes to be effective in covering up his enormity with how fast he gains, the hawk king electing to wear nothing. Tibarn’s entire body is a testament to his pleasure and gluttony. His gut is by far the largest thing about him, the massive, billowing gut surging forward from him like a waterfall of lard wherever he goes. Made up of two prominent sections, the upper portion of his gut doesn’t jut out as much as the lower half, the massive sagging lower rivers of fat that are the rolls on his gut cascading down the couch. The enormous pile of fat that makes up his gargantuan gut currently rests on the floor. Partially, the rest of it that doesn’t pool on the plush carpet floor instead sprawled out on the couch. The massive gut is more than large enough to blanket an entire transformed laguz with enough blubber to spare for another. Tibarn’s enormous stomach churns and rumbles—half from hunger and half from eating too much with him never quite able to satisfy his hunger at his ridiculous furniture crushing size. His thick jutting love handles surpass the size of an arm in their width. And his large breasts that now surpass the size of an entire person’s torso, his massive tits alone close to weighing as much as the average beorc now, follow gravity’s natural pull and splay down his mound of fat for a gut to even reach and touch his love handles; the two large breasts even sag over the upper section of his gut. Tibarn’s wings are now nothing more than an adornment on his bloated figure. The two massive, powerful wings that were always a point of pride for Tibarn now come close to being matched by his own gluttonous girth now. Despite his lower half being smaller, his ponderous rear presses against the back of the couch, the furniture creaking from the strain of it along with the rest of his weight but still holding on strong. Tibarn’s massive backside is still large enough to completely smother an armchair under each shapeless cheek. Tibarn’s thighs are mostly taken up by the enormity of his upper half. Tibarn’s hips are more than five times wider than the regular laguz. His thighs are large enough to struggle with anything resembling a doorway—large enough to where that has been an issue a couple hundred pounds ago; the two ponderously shaped thighs are riddled with their own rolls of flab, bits of adipose jutting to the side as they rest on the couch. Tibarn’s legs are practically swallowed in flab. The strength that he does have left can’t remove the encroaching physical impossibility of being too fat to stand up anymore, especially with his cankle fat that sags and spills down to absorb his feet. His knees also struggle with flexibility like the rest of him; the two doughy joints are smothered in a heaping layer of lard from his thighs. Tibarn’s arms come close to facing the very same issue. His enormous biceps are now larger than a person’s waistline. The obscenely obese hawk has the bare minimum of strength to sluggishly, lethargically lift them up. An effort he mostly reserves for Reyson at this point.

The heron far from matching Tibarn’s weight, the petite little laguz is no more. Long gone is his slim, delicate body; instead, a bloated hefty body replaces it. The new delicacies provided to him with no longer having to subsist off of Phoenicis’ climate—and the supplies they pirated from Begnion—the joy from eating such a wide array of dishes had been doubled by having Tibarn at his side. Reyson uses Tibarn as his own personal seat, his husband far more soft than even the most luxurious of furniture. Reyson drapes himself over Tibarn. His own large belly squishes against his husband’s bed sized body. Reyson weighs just a tad bit over the 400 benchmark, the heron finally surpassing his goal weight two weeks ago before deciding to indulge himself further upon the insistence of his husband along with his own enjoyment of his size and his husband’s immensity. He has a much more defined lower half. Still clothed, the ill fitting pair of shorts are incredibly snug against his posterior. Reyson’s large ass juts out behind him, the two livingly shaped rear always a marvel to watch whenever he waddles no matter how much laguz try not to stare. The two large cheeks that need their own chair now spill out from his tight clothing. And Reyson’s shirt does absolutely nothing to cover up the exposed cheeks that spill out, the white fabric taut as it hugs the large, flabby curve of his gut. Reyson’s wings rather average, the still large wingspan easily surpasses his own width. He can also still fly. Not that Reyson truly ever bothers to try so anymore when he tires so easily after a mere few minutes or so of flapping his wings a few feet above the ground. Reyson’s thighs do a much better job of getting around anyways, the two lard filled pillars for legs his only option now. His large thighs easily give Reyson a prominent bottom heavy shape even with his sizable upper half’s large gut that sags close to his groin along with two large bosoms that strain every shirt he wears and a pair of meaty, flabby arms with arm fat that sags whenever he lifts up his arms for more food.

Which he currently works on. Partially for himself, but mostly for Tibarn. “The food is delicious. But,” Reyson pauses as he feeds a heaping forkful of meat to his nearly immobile husband.

“But?” Tibarn pauses his own action. Well, not eating, the morbidly obese laguz still greedily accepting the next bit of food Reyson gives him. But he does stop lifting up his arm for a quick break, Tibarn tiredly moving his overlyladen arms to feed Reyson the best that he can at his weight.

Reyson wipes at Tibarn’s jowls as he speaks, Tiabrn’s cheeks that are far too big to be cupped with one hand now wobbling from the care and attention. “But, I think you’re just a hog now,” Reyson leans closer. Fat squishes against lard as he reaches to give Tibarn a kiss. No malice to be found in his words, the heron simply allows himself a small, cheeky grin.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t mind it,” Tibarn accepts another bite of food, just barely having finished his current bite before Reyson practically shoves more into his hungry maw. “And you certainly don’t mind it. Besides, what does that make you? A pig? Cause you’re certainly already there,”

Reyson laughs. Loudly at first, the burst of laughter eventually trickling down into soft chuckles. “Of course I don’t mind how big you are. If I did, well then, you’d be out of such a doting husband. And,” Reyson causes, mentally groaning at what should be a demeaning term used so lovingly and the way he enjoys it. “And I guess I am then,” Despite his acceptance of the sudden term, Reyson’s portly, rounded face is blemished by a blush.

“Oh, you’re shy now? After eating yourself almost three hundred pounds heavier?” Tibarn grins. Though the taunting, teasing smile is made far from menacing with smears of oils and fat on his plump lips that are attached to a rounded, bloated face. “Though if you ask me, you look even more handsome now with how nice and fat you are,”

“I’m not shy. This whole situation is simply ridiculous if you think about it. Not that I care. It’s relaxing not having to feel so prim and proper when you’re far from that now,” Tibarn huffs as Reyson feeds him more. And Reyson watches as Tibarn listens to his words, waiting for him to finish, both of them aware of where the conversation will lead like every day. But Reyson finds it difficult. Especially with his insight from his heron blood. Tibarn’s ever open soul to Reyson’s insight just feels so teasing, so purposeful, the heron able to see that Tibarn truly means every word he says. And a slight insight to Tibarn’s desires. Not that they deviate at all from Reyson’s own. So, he speaks up, his growling stomach also pushing the conversation along. “I’m sure you’ll find me even more ravishing with some more weight. So why don’t you feed me? You’ve gotten quite complacent it seems,”

“Closed mouths don’t get fed. But since you asked so nicely,” Tibarn once again resumes his sluggish movements, lifting up an obscenely large lard filled arm to bring the bit of food he has left for Reyson despite how important it is at his size.

Not that either of the two fat bird laguz truly care about such things, both of them more than content just to spend time with each other. And to glut out and grow even more like they have been.

#my writing #fat emblem #male weight gain #ssbhm #feeder emblem #fat fiction #maleweightgain

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tabbyrp · 5 days

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@brooklynislandgirl cont from [x] for funsies (dishonorable mentions to @therealgamble @tarnishedhalo @whosxafraid )

Tabby would be among the last people on earth to judge imagining a hot rocker losing his shirt while sailing. She only casts Vedder in his younger incarnation within her mind’s eye because it allows for some dramatic billowing of curly locks, standing against the ocean wind like an oil-painted romance book cover. It’s a pity that Beth is not the sibling with the ability to peek into minds, for Tabby is quite proud of the scene she’s created.

The mental landscape is, alas, scrubbed clean when Beth takes her turn in the idle coffee shop game. “Oh man. Give me a second.” Tabby reaches for her own latte, only to remember she guzzled the whole thing while Beth checked off her answers. She stalls by tearing off a chunk of the blueberry muffin between them, crumbs landing on the plate before the segment disappears into her mouth.

“Okay.” A swallow before she plows on. “The TV show is the hardest, just because getting any of those boys to take a whole day off for themselves is, like, rare. But get the right show, some beer and some pizza, and Brian would relax and maybe even enjoy it. So, he gets the pick.”

“Karaoke is Riley. Easy choice there, even if he would do the whole proper singing, instead of banshee screaming which is kind traditional when you’re on a stage trying to do Whitney or Celine.” Mischief appears on her face. “Remind me in seven months that we should go karaoke’ing for my birthday.”

The muffin tempts Tabby briefly, though she resists, playing with her empty coffee cup to keep idle fingers busy. “And Luka gets yoga class. Those small mats might be a bit of a squish for him, but I also kinda think he’s the most likely to find the class not total torture. He’s got the most inner calm, y’know?”

#brooklynislandgirl #cross all the streams!

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months

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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 39

Chapter 38.5

Masterlist

-------Scoia'tel encampment outside Flotsam--------------

Aemma had dozed off, feeling like she was stuck in a state of limbo as a result of being tied up to a tree for the last several months or so. She felt herself swaying back and forth in boredom. So far, her digits and limbs were still intact, but that may not last long. The deadline for her father to show and present himself to face justice was fast approaching; should he fail to be here in the next several days, the princess knew she would lose the first finger, followed by the second and third and so on, until there would be nothing left of her.

She couldn't help but wonder if her father would even show up for her...of course he would, she thinks, he would show up on Caraxes and burn this camp to the ground for even threatening to harm his own blood.

So why was it taking so damn long, it didn't take her THAT long to fly to the Continent the first time around on Cirillia.

Aemma was pulled out of her thoughts when one of the elves came up to her and opened up a skin of water in front of her. The elf give her a smug look as he guzzled down the cool water, some of the water dribbling down from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Aemma stared at the water droplets, mouth becoming dry as she wondered when was the last time she had a drink. Seeing as the Scoia'tel needed her living and breathing, they were nice enough to give her food and water, but only enough to keep her going; they were barely able to feed themselves adequate rations after all, why would they spare anything more than crumbs for her? As it already was, Aemma was fairly certain her clothes were becoming looser with each passing day.

"Thirsty?" the elf taunts, which Aemma stares daggers at him. Up until this point, she had been under the impression that elves were supposed to be the more noble and honorable of the species, beings of stoic demeanor with supposedly no taste for depravity and the like. Though this seemed to be nothing more than a stereotype.

These Scoia'tel, Iorveth excluded, appeared to be the opposite, taking whatever opportunities they would to taunt and torment their hostage from saying mocking words about her human nature and particularly her incestuous Valyrian blood to offering food and water only to pull it away and leaving her to her cried, cracked lip and growling stomach. Aemma had begun to wonder if there was anyway to escape this, some way to get away before the Scoia'tel commander went through with his threat to start cutting off her fingers. Then she remembered what Vesemir had told her, "When you are to hang, ask for a cup of water. You never know what is going to happen before they bring it."

This wasn't exactly the same situation, but these elves she noticed had recently conducted a raid from some wine merchants, who had brought crates of wine as well as food for accompaniment. This one in particular clearly had just indulged in the spoils and was not of a clear mind as of now. This may not be a hanging, but it may be soon enough if her father fails to arrive.

So Aemma licks her dry lips, thirsty as she actually was, she was still determined to sell the act, "actually I am," she answers the elf, "I know it is not yet my turn to partake in the water rations, but it has been particularly hot today." In his buzzed state, the elf tilted his head lightly, giving Aemma a rather incredulous look. Nevertheless, he took the open skin of water and brought it to her lips and tilted it so as to let the cool water reach her parched throat. Or at least it would if the water skin wasn't pulled back at the very last second.

The elf laughed mockingly as he took a swig from the skin. He then took another look at Aemma, trying to decipher the look on her face. Earlier in her captivity, Aemma used to retaliate when taunted by her captors, but at this point it hardly even bothered her anymore. "You know, we've been playing this game for months now," she deadpans, "it wouldn't kill you to come up with something a little more original. Less boring you know."

The elf tilted his head once again, thinking about her words, "hmmm, perhaps we could liven things up a bit," his eyes turn dark, and for a moment, Aemma was worried about what he had in mind. He kneels down, taking his hand and cupping it under her chin, "you are quite pretty for a dh'oine," he admits, "strange, usually inbreeding has the opposite effect. Still, I have to wonder..." Aemma backed her head away, "I uh, I have to leave my maidenhead intact...for my future husband," she reasons, though truthfully that wasn't something she's really cared about for the last few years when she was encouraged to...explore certain avenues of womanly pleasure. "Pfft you humans and your prudish nature," the elf rolls his eyes, "out in public you see the most natural of acts as meant to be shameful and beneath you, but you have no qualms committing those same acts in the shadows. It's a wonder your kind beget as many children as you do with such...regressive ideals."

Aemma watched the elf turn and leave, pulling out a flask and taking a swig of whatever was in there while he was at it. Aemma let out an exhale she didn't even know she was holding in. Fortunately for her, she had exactly what she needed to help her escape by way of a small knife she noticed had been strapped to the elf's belt before she managed to lift it when he was touching her. She keeps it behind her, waiting for the right moment to begin cutting loose the ropes and making her escape.

Not quite the situation that would require her asking for water prior to hanging, but it was close enough.

-------Flotsam tavern-----------------------

"Soon may the Wellermen come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum! One day when the tugging is done, we'll take our leave and go!"

"That is Princess Aemma's uncle?" Ivan frowns a bit, "I uh, don't really see the resemblance."

"Soon may the Wellermen come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum! One day when the tugging is done, we'll take our leave and...go."

"Encore! Encore!" Some in the audience urged from the Bard.

"Much as I would like to," Jaskier admits, "I do have a prior engagement that will hopefully happen soon." "..and hopefully finally reunite me with my sister's child," he mutters to himself. Jaskier had not forgotten the moment he saw his best friend when the Bard and his dwarf friend were standing at the gallows, fixing to get the hanging when the white haired witcher and his allies had intervened and literally saved their necks (though the same unfortunately couldn't be said for the two elves that also stood next to Jaskier).

He also had not forgotten those words Geralt had spoke to him in the aftermath of being rescued and exonerated for his supposed crime of engaging in indecent acts.

"Your niece, Aemma, she is here on the Continent...she's was taken by the man who assassinated Foltest."

The moment those words came from the witcher's lips, Jaskier actually felt his eyes moisten when he heard them. "Don't say those things, Geralt," the Bard had warned, "don't say them if they are not true...sixteen years, Geralt, sixteen years...I had to live with the grief of losing my niece, which was compounded by the loss of my sister...my family was taken from me and I've had to live without them. So DON'T you dare fucking jest when you say such things."

Though Jaskier knew Geralt was not one to jest, he needed to make sure as at this point this was something he could've only have imagined would take place in his dreams, to be reunited with the only blood related family he had left in this world. And much to the Bard's relief it was not. He was, however, cautious not get his hopes too high upon hearing that Aemma was being held hostage by the man who killed the king of Temeria. "Why would the assassin take her?" Jaskier had asked. "Don't know yet," the mage Triss had told him, "we have some working theories, but nothing concrete as of now."

So here they were now, the group Geralt had arrived with had separated to complete different tasks while further investigating into the assassin and his motivations which would hopefully lead to them finding both the man and the princess.

Leaving Jaskier alone with his thoughts; the man wasn't sure what how he could contribute to this as he only JUST found out his niece was somewhere on the Continent. He drank and sang his tunes as a way to cope, to drive away the dark thoughts that threaten to invade his mind, the thoughts that would plague about Aemma if she was suffering at the hands of this witcher assassin or something far worse. He dare not think on it, so he did the one thing he was good at. This way of coping by playing and entertaining the patrons, however, was something of a double edge sword; it made Jaskier feel good in the moment and kept the worse case scenarios out his mind, but it also made him feel useless as it wouldn't do anything to contribute in searching for his long lost niece.

Right now, Jaskier was contemplating what he should; he may end up getting in the way, but he was desperate if only to reunite with his sister's daughter.

As he was contemplating this, as he turned to leave the tavern to do something extreme and likely stupid, he found his egress impeded the moment he stumbled into the trio that had recently walked into the tavern. "Oh uh, pardon me," Jaskier says, checking to make sure his lute was intact before he made eye contact with the one man standing before him. Jaskier tilted his head, having a feeling he'd seen the face somewhere before. Ser Criston Cole meanwhile tried to remain calm, hoping to the Seven this man would not recognize him right away. Jaskier squinted before he spoke, "Have...have we met somewhere before? You look familiar."

-----------Lookout outside Loberdin---------

Geralt stood before the old elf Cedric, having asked questions for various tasks that needed doing around this part of the woods from finding a way to take out the kayran that wreaked havoc outside the docks of Flotsam to finding work and about the Scoia'tel.

Right now, Geralt was currently stood to question the drunken elf of the whereabouts, something he held his tongue on even as Tris conjured a portal to take her back to Flotsam to aid fellow mage Sile de Tansarville to formulate a plan to slay the kayran.

Despite the witcher's silence, and despite the inebriated state the elf was in, Cedric could sense there was more the Wolf wished to know, "you have more questions to ask," he states matter of factually.

Geralt faced Cedric, looking him in the eye before asking his question, "have their been any sights of another witcher in these forests?" "The one who slew king Foltest?" Cedric asks. "He captured a young woman after the murder," Geralt explains, "a princess from across the Great Sea." "...so the young Targaryen has returned to this part of the world..." Cedric realizes, "intent on seeking answers to questions she had many years ago." "You know her?" "We crossed paths six years ago when she was merely a girl," Cedric explains, "the Scoia'tel were intent on capturing her once before to use her as a hostage so as to demand justice for wrongs committed to them by her father. I talked them out of it once before, but I sense that will not be the case this time around." "So the assassin took her to the Scoia'tel as a hostage?" Geralt realizes.

"It would appear to be the case," Cedric confirms, "And unlike before I will not be able to persuade the Scoia'tel commander to release as I had done so before." "...Why did she come to the Continent in the first place?" Geralt inquires. "She had questions...about her past...and her mother."

"...She wanted to know more about the Lady of Larks...and your relationship to her."

-----------------Scoia'tel encampment: Commander's tent-----------------

Iorveth sat at the table with the map in place, a barely touched bowel of barley stew laying next to the map, which wasn't something the elf could forego despite his lack of appetite; who knows when the next full meal would be available for him and his comrades to satiate their empty bellies. Perhaps Iorveth would donate his share to whomever in the camp needed it the most.

In this moment, the elven commander had been contemplating what to do with his prisoner that was currently tied up; the deadline was fast approaching and the man who was supposed to show up to face Aen Siedhe justice has all but failed to show up. This didn't make sense to Iorveth; he recalled the way Prince Daemon fought all those years ago, the man had been determined to slay every elf in sight and fight to the last breath if it meant keeping both mother and child out of harm's way. If the Rogue Prince was so keen on protecting his family, he surely would've arrived on dragonback months ago to rescue his daughter.

It was something Iorveth had been expecting and had prepared his subordinates for, to take cover should the dragon be sighted and would be commanded to burn the camp to a crisp and to stay close to him as he would keep their hostage by his side so as to gain the upper hand. But so far nothing has happened.

Iorveth then pulled out his dagger, studying its double edges as he imagined what he would have to do in days time; for some reason this plague his mind that he would have to start mutilating a hostage to drag the point across. He didn't know why...

Iorveth has lived many centuries, fought many battles, and killed thrice as many d'hoine without batting an eye all for the name of elven liberation and a hope that the Aen Siedhe would be restored to their former glory. He's never hesitated to shed human blood, especially in self defense, as their kind were numerous and multiplied like rats, yet this particular d'hoine he felt some kind of aversion to what he would have to do. In the past, when the elf killed humans quickly and without having a second thought...but he's never killed one in the slow fashion, the process of disembodying a sentient being as one would a piece of meat would surprisingly be a first in his long life. Iorveth honestly would never wish such torture on his own worse enemy; he knew what that was like personally, curtest of the hands of the Nilfgaardian torturer who put him through both physical and psychological torture before finally putting out his eye and leaving him in the ravine to rot under the mountain of corpses of his fellow brothers and sisters who had fought alongside him in the Vrihedd brigade.

Only he and one other had survived that massacre.

Now here Iorveth, once a survivor of torture, was in the position of potential torturer. No matter, the elf attempts to justify to himself, it is not the same. He and his comrades were put to torture for the sake of a dream that proved to be nothing more than false promises. Iorveth was different; he was doing this for the sake of justice and to bring closer to the elves who stilled grieved the loss of the ones who perished at the hands of the Rogue Prince and his blood wrym.

His contemplation was interrupted when the whooshing sounds of a portal opened up, startling the elf though he refused to show it. He could not afford to show weakness in front of others, especially a potential enemy.

Iorveth turns to face who was daring to intrude, and to his somewhat relief, it was not an enemy; not exactly a friend, but at least wasn't an enemy. If anything she might be considered an enemy of his enemy, but not quite a friend in spite of how that d'hoine saying goes.

"What are you doing here, witch?" Iorveth sneers, not appreciating that the sorceress before him was arrogant enough to just waltz into his tent and think nothing of it. "Good to see you as well, Iorveth," Phillipa Eilhart greets in a light sasses tone, "And I am doing just fine, thank you for asking." "State your purpose, Eilhart, you would not have come here by portal if it were not urgent," Iorveth deadpans.

"Quick to the point as always," Phillipa shrugs, "very well. It has come to my, well OUR attention that your recently acquired a...guest for your encampment." "I fail to see what the girl is of any of your concern," Iorveth scoffs, "this is an internal Scoia'tel affair, you need not sully yourself on these matters." "But I do," Phillipa counters, "whatever plans you have for the Targaryen princess, I'm afraid, will have to be put aside. Yes, I know very well who your guest is. And whatever you think you are about to do her now, I suggest you put it out of your mind right now. And release her from your custody."

"What?!" Iorveth exclaims, anger rising, "how dare you you think, witch, you can just march into MY camp and make such demands. I am a Scoia'tel commander, I lead a great army. We succeeded in slaying a king. Who do you think you are to demand this?"

"...she is the one who wants the princess release," Phillipa tells him, emphasis on 'she', "and brought to Vergen alive and unharmed." Iorveth stood back, realizing what and whom the sorceress was speaking of. He turned his back on her, unable to figure out why the woman who had brought him and the hundreds of elves hope to their cause would want anything to do with ANY of the inbred d'hoine dragon riders from the Seven Kingdoms. "Why?" he asks in disbelief, "what does Saskia want her brought there?" "She did not say," was Phillipa's answer, "she only mentioned she has plans for the princess."

"Commander!" an elf rushes into the tent, slightly taken aback by Phillipa's presence before he shook his head to address Iorveth, "the hostage she...she is gone. Her bonds have been cut."

-------------meanwhile-------------

Aemma had bide her time as she slowly worked the knife through the her bonds during the day. She had to do it slowly and she needed to be discrete as the sentry who stood guard kept eye on her at all times.

When dusk had arrived, the sentry had left most likely to have the next one take his place. She took that opportunity to finally loosen her bonds. She shakily got up to her feet, something she had done for quite some time. They felt like jelly, but the adrenaline coursed through her as she needed to get away from this place. She didn't have time to find her silver sword, she just needed to get up and get going. She would have to find another to take its place. It was a shame as that sword meant a lot to her as Vesemir had that specially crafted for her in the first place.

Aemma dashed through the forest, not daring to look back lest she be captured again. Her hopes of making an escape were cut short when she ran into what she initially thought was a wall of bricks.

She looked up and recognized it was the bulky witcher that murdered King Foltest.

Letho stares at Aemma, an indecipherable look in his eye,

"Leaving so soon, princess?"

Chapter 39.5

#hotd #the witcher #geralt of rivia #oc #aemond targaryen #criston cole #iorveth #zoltan #letho of gulet #vesemir #jaskier #phillipa eilhart #cedric #triss merigold

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