#🐮 anon

[konigsblog]

I wanna hug chubby!Konig, squeeze his cheeks and then feed him the most delicious meal ever, I want to keep my man fed and happy 😭 and maybe bite his cheek too

- 🐮 anon

chubby-könig (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

tw: size difference, soft sex.

chubby-könig loves when you coddle and take care of him. :( fuck, he deserves a nutritious, calorific meal, to relax afterwards whilst you wrap your soft fingers around his fat, thick base...

you stroke him gently, sitting on his large lap, your fingers curled around his shaft slowly, stroking him slowly whilst maintaining eye contact with him. you giggled as he let out a sharp breath, bucking his broad and chubby hips into your hand, throwing his head back as he felt your thumb rub at his wet tip.

chubby-könig loves when you rub your swollen pussy against his chubby stomach, pushing his meaty and hung cock down against his lower abdomen, as you rub your slick folds against his veiny shaft. könig grabs your hips firmly, large and calloused hands guiding you back and forth, watching you rub yourself against his weeping boner like a needy, little perv.

könig rolled his eyes back, your hands sprawled out across his strong, fat chest, feeling his lengthy and bulbous dick twitch and pulse between your soaking slit. you cried through your orgasm, waves of pleasure running through your body, causing you to shake and tremble on top of him, feeling his hot cum smear against your swollen, puffy pussy! ;(

chubby-könig would pin you down using his weight, getting off to the sight of you like this; vulnerable, your attempts at squirming away from his rough and erratic thrusts fruitless as he holds you down using his weight. :3

#orla speaks #size difference #könig x you #könig x reader #könig x y/n #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig smut #konig headcanons #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig #könig fanfiction #🐮 anon

[pupyuj]

yujin being your impatient gf and just fucks you hard in her room while her parents are in the other room 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

++ can i be your 🐮 anon? heeheeee

super late but the inspiration just randomly struck me—

okay but not just her parents and instead, her family 🤭 she brings you over for dinner bcs she wanted her family to finally meet her cute and awesome gf but you just had to wear the prettiest dress and wear your hair in the prettiest way that yujin could not sit still in her chair with her pants all tight bcs of you 😒 all things considered the dinner went well and her family fell in love you with half as much as yujin did but fuck… yujin had to steal you away to one of the guest rooms just to give herself some relief 😵‍💫

yujin would have your face pressed up against the door while she pounded your cunt from behind… using the full length of her thick cock to stretch you out 😵‍💫 “you did this on purpose, didn’t you…?” she’d taunt and from the sickening smile that formed on your face… yujin knew the answer,, your lips nearly bled with how hard you bit on them to conceal your sounds but with how hard your body shook against the door after each and every one of yujin’s thrusts… well, her family wouldn’t have to think too hard about what the two of you are up to!

but yujin was being so loud too… whining while she had her face hidden on your shoulder 😣 she’s such a baby about it all too! muttering “please, please, please” while she desperately chased after a quick orgasm but feeling so good inside you that she can’t help but prolong everything 😣 you can tell she’s trying to be careful but even you can’t wait until it was nighttime for the two of you to do this so you make sure to make it last! 😝 thrusting back into yujin and having to cover your mouth when she started going faster… her hands tightly gripping your hips while she used your cunt like a toy 🫠🫠

“you’re such a… b-bad girl… letting my family find out how much of a slut you are on the night y-you’re meeting them for the f-first time… ahh…! fuck—!” yujinnie whispers all these degrading things in your ear as she abuses your pussy with her cock but she’s being so cute that you couldn’t really feel bad!

“you like it.. mhnn…! don’t you, pup?” and yujin was fucking gone 🥰 all that remained was your desperate, puppy girlfriend who did nothing but whine and pant in your ear until she came—biting your shoulder as she dumped her cum inside you 😌 she’d be so blinded by pleasure that she’d still be thrusting while cumming 😵‍💫 gosh, you’d have to tap out just to let her know that you’ve had enough… and babygirl would apologize for going a bit overboard aww 🥺🥺

the two of you would come out of that room disheveled, sure! but you were decent people so you’d make the effort to doll yourselves up just right, erasing any trace of what the two of you did in that room… except for those very noticeable bite marks on your shoulder that you couldn’t cover up bcs of your dress 😝 and who knows what’ll happen at night… when the two of you go home and yujin finally and truly has you all to herself?? ☺️

#🐮 anon #ive smut #ive imagines #ive x reader #ive x fem reader #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin imagines #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x fem reader #yujin smut #yujin imagines #yujin x reader #yujin x fem reader #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group x fem reader #g!p idol #g!p ive #g!p ahn yujin #g!p yujin

[princessbrunette]

jj being so oblivious to how much he turns on reader and by the time they get back into her room at the end of the day she’s so needy for him and he’s like ???

-🐮

🍰♡₊˚ 🩰・₊✧

jj had taken the lead on the little pogue mission you’d joined in on today.

you wasn’t sure if it was the leadership and casual dominance over everyone that was doing it for you, your boyfriend strutting about in that black t-shirt and backwards cap — confidently throwing out “just follow my lead, okay?” to the group, or “not to worry, papa j’s got it.” which made your thighs clench whilst everyone else’s eyes rolled.

or maybe it was the way he was courteous, making sure your safety and involvement in everything was his top priority— glancing over at you to gauge your reactions whenever something happened, taking your hand to help you on and off boats or steps, calling out a “‘scuse me, if you could just make way for muh’lady.” as he’d usher you through a crowd with his hands on your waist.

whatever it was, it had you in heat by the time you had hurried him into his designated room at the chateau, pawing at him with the door barely shut, catching him off guard when you’re grabbing at the neck of his shirt trying to pull him down to get his mouth on yours.

“uh— hello, hey— you okay? why are you trying to eat me?” he pants after you get a few confused pecks in, gently holding you back by the shoulders. you whimper, just from having his hands on you and lick your lips hungrily.

“jj, you’ve been killing me all day. please, i’m sorry i just need you, really bad!” it comes out whiny and in one breath, his brows jumping up as he takes in the surprising information.

“okay first of all, never be sorry for that— alright. second of all, why? what did i even — i feel like if anything i was kinda gross today i’ll be totally honest with you.” he rambles, glancing down at the way your hands twist in his shirt itching to touch him.

“you’re just… such a natural leader jayj. was tellin’ everyone what to do n’ looking after me and it just drove me insane. wanted it all day.” you sigh, pupils practically covering your iris.

“really? th—that was doing it for you? jesus well, okay— im flattered— you know i kinda feel like i’m having one of those crazy wet dreams that i wake up all disappointed and sticky from so like — this isn’t a dream right?” he reaches down and pinches your hip, making you yelp and slap his hand.

“ow, why are you pinching me if you’re the one dreaming, jj?”

“thats a good point actually uh—”

“can you stop pinching me and start fucking me, please?” you mewl, drawing closer, practically breathing into his mouth and he frantically nods, dropping a kiss to your lips before pointing to the bed.

“yep, can do— get your skirt off. panties too.” he commands you, briskly making his way to the door to close it properly and lock it, making his way over to you to help you pull your underwear down your legs. “mm, that’s what i like to see. papa’s gotta eat.” he spreads your legs, shuffling around to be face to face with your cunt, dropping kisses to your inner thighs.

“been waitin’ for this all day!” you slur, already arching off the bed trying to get his mouth on you.

“yeah? well that means you’ve been a very patient, good girl…” he presses a sloppy kiss directly to your clit making your breath hitch, his thumbs sliding up either side of your puffy folds to spread them. “if only there was a way,” he spits on your clit and you jolt, the glob running down the entirety of your heat. “for me to reward you for that.” he grins up at you with wet lips before diving in, reminding you why you love his tongue so much.

🍰♡₊˚ 🩰・₊✧

#🐮 anon #jj maybank prompt

[writeforfandoms]

JEN I HAVE AN IDEA.

An otter!shifter oc meeting the 141 and being recruited by them. She's really smart and Fierce on missions but also really cheeky but like also badass and the first time she shifts in front of them they're all just like 👁👄👁 and they all fucking melt. I imagine her somehow being closest to Ghost and like riding on his shoulders in otter form and just scampering all over him. And he's just standing in a corner ominously and scaring people but there's just this...cute af otter sitting on his shoulders but no one dares to say anything except Soap who makes fun of him, causing oc to bite him.

-🐮

Lmao I love the mental image of Ghost, big scary ominous Ghost, with this cute little animal scampering all over him.its just hysterical. An otter would definitely be fierce on the field, but probably very pack-oriented. Very cute mental image! And her biting Soap, omg. She totally would. And Soap would have no idea when to back off

#🐮 anon #shifter au

[gabessquishytum]

Warprize Hob kept absolutely naked by Dream and hating it. He thought army life had cured him of modesty, but it's different when you're just another comrade vs being on display for your owner's enjoyment. He keeps trying to cover himself up and getting punished for it. Dream constantly had to take him over his knee, everyone could see the red and purple of his arse, but Hob still tearfully shies away from the court's gaze, not realizing this embarrassment was an amusing change from all the other prizes who didn't mind being naked, making him even more conspicuous.

One day Dream takes pity on him and said if Hob acts like a proper prize, and not insult his master by trying to block access to his view of his property, he'll let Hob wear something. For the first time in months, Hob keeps his hands by his side, letting everybody get a good look. His whole body was burning red. The other prizes at court discreetly rolled their eyes at this.

Hob endured having the length and width of his cock and balls measured, the width of his taint, the circumference of his ass cheeks. Hob realized he's made a deal with the devil when Dream invented the world's first thong/G-string just for him. It rubs his sore, red, fucked loose hole so deliciously that his cock drenched the white fabric and he's even more on display.

Dream enjoys this immensely.

Love, 🐮 anon

Akskdfjgjgk omg this is very very good. Very very hot.

Poor Hob. He's shy! He can't get used to being looked at by hundreds of people. It's bad enough when it's just Dream looking at him and touching him. But the dozens and dozens of courtiers, the ambassadors and messengers? The other servants? Literally any random person passing by? Hob can't cope with being naked in front of so many people. He starts shaking and blushing and he just covers himself on autopilot!

The underwear is somehow worse.

It draws attention to Hob, for one thing. All the other sexual servants are the court are naked, so Hob stands out. Everyone wants to admire the king’s invention! So he has people coming up close, poking and prodding his arse and admiring the way the fabric hugs his body. He's even more humiliated than he was before.

The underwear is all lacey and prickly, so it teases his raw bottom horribly. His hole is always achy anyway, and his arsecheeks have been so well spanked that it just hurts to be touched all over! The panties hurt him just enough to turn him on... and everyone can see that his cock is hard and poking out from the hem of the underwear.

Dream is delighted by the new project! Hob seems more embarrassed than ever, and he's constantly desperately hard without the use of any aphrodisiacs. His plump little arse looks adorable framed by lacey fabric, too. He's gradually becoming Dream’s absolute favourite pet. He's just so much fun to tease and torture! Dream has him moved right into his private chambers. There's so much he wants to do to with this particular prize. And Hob deserves regular orgasms to make up for the humiliation, right?

#🐮 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #warprize hob

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

I don’t know what to do w this thought bc there is no plot but I’ve been thinking a lot abt stucky Wandavision au w belly kink and it’s just all sweet and innocent at first yk 1950s all pg and sweet and it just dives into an absolutely kinky hellfest of Bucky stuffing Steve making him burst out of his suit each decade with just a fatter Steve with different popular foods of the era and is KSBDKD ekem anyways -🐮

This is gonna be another case of me admitting that I am not a good Marvel fan because... I didn't watch WandaVision 🫣🫣 BUT you're a goddamn genius because that concept is so hot.

With every decade, Steve gets fatter. Fatter and fatter and fatter. Testing the limits of all these different styles of clothes. Finding new favorite types of food. Each morning, Steve leaves their home a little larger and a little slower until... maybe he won't be leaving at all 😳

Warning for stucky belly kink, (probably) historical inaccuratacies, weight gain, stuffing, clothes destruction/tight clothes, immobility, some name calling (pig, whale, etc.), and all that kinky goodness below.

1950s

I'm thinking about the excess that was the 1950s in America.

The post-WWII booming economy lends itself to this picture-perfect life that is seemingly within reach (if you were white, middle class, and heterosexual). A house, a car, a dog, children, etc. And all this overflow - this excess speeds up Steve's gain like nothing else. Bucky is a stay-at-home house husband, while Steve goes out to work; so, that also speeds Steve's gain because Bucky has to keep himself busy, he's got to do something other than clean, launder clothes, pay bills, or whatever. Cooking and grocery shopping fills most of his time in a way he enjoys.

Bucky always ends up cooking too much - making too much food for just the two of them. Then, because he's made too much, he overuses ingredients, and he has to go back to the store to get more... maybe he should get more when he's there? Right? He needs to buy more ingredients so he doesn't have to come as often. Steve ate everything Bucky cooked anyway, so it's not like it was actually too much, right?

Right?

So, at the start of the decade, Steve is nice and strapping. Under his pressed shirt, suit jacket, suspenders, and trousers, he's got a full fucking six pack, tight, high pecs, and broad as hell shoulders with legs that go on for days. But Bucky is getting good at building a soft husband. With every dish he perfects, every meal he cooks, he gets closer and closer to a chubby husband. Every day.

Hamburger, tuna fish, and chicken casseroles; meat loaf; fried chicken and deep-fried vegetables; mac and cheese; spam and canned ham; spareribs and salisbury steak; hot dogs; buttery mashed potatoes; banana cream pies, cherry angel food cake, and pineapple upside-down cake... all popular foods that Steve readily eats. And eats.

No matter how much Bucky makes, Steve will try to finish it all. He deeply appreciates being cooked for and he wants to show his appreciation. Even if, at the start, not everything is perfect.

If Steve doesn't finish it all by dessert, Bucky knows it will be gone by the time he wakes up with Steve in the morning. Steve gets up for work, Bucky gets up to make his hardworking husband breakfast, sending him off with a full belly (nevermind the fact that Steve is still gurgling through his dinner from the day prior and his midnight snack turned midnight feast).

Anyway-

Steve becomes accustomed to coming come from a long day at work to delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. It's never long before Bucky comes out, full frilly apron and all, and steers Steve into their dining room, sitting him down and serving up all the different dishes he's made for that day in a seemingly endless stream.

Steve compliments and moans his way through all of the dishes. Trying every single one. Not just trying a bite of each, but eating the lion's share of every dish. He makes sure Bucky has his fill, but everything else goes toward Steve. He can't help it. He's a stubborn, determined guy. Even if it didn't taste good (which it does, Steve could be convinced he's in heaven), Steve would be eating it all. But it does taste good. And he wants his husband to know he's doing good. So... down it all goes.

Until, by the time dessert is rolled own, Steve has his hands flat on the table over top of his knife and fork where they rest on his placemat. His glass is empty for now, he's gulped down glass after glass of milk with his meal, and he'll have a few more before he's done - the fatty drink bloating him by filling in all the cracks that fold can't fit into. Steve's got his head bowed, and his chest is heaving. Eyes squeezed shut.

Full.

"F-full," Steve puffs out, his lips slick. But, he's not done.

As he's stuffed his face, his tie has shifted to the side, exposing his shirt buttons. A while ago, Bucky helped him messily roll up his shirt sleeves as to not get them (more) dirty. He looks disheveled. Every shallow breath leaves his stretched stomach expanding more, truly testing the limits of his previously nicely starched shirt. Now his shirt is stained. He isn't a messy eater, but with all he's eating, there's no way that he wouldn't drop something on his swelling belly, beginning to split his suspenders apart and crush his belted slacks down.

The more often they do this, the more they settle into this time period, the more the buttons of Steve's shirts gape - little diamonds growing between each button, exposing more and more of his ribbed undershirt.

Someday, they're gonna bust. Coming off one by one. Pop. Pop. Pop. Bucky's toes curl just thinking about it. The release of each one, too tight, Steve's pot belly - his swelling gut, a beer gut under construction - forcing them to come flying off. Then, his belly rounding out. Expanding into the new space. Happy to be released and ready for more with the added space and freedom.

1960s

Bucky mourns the loss of visible straining buttons with the change of fashion following the decade. Or, actually, he mours the loss right up until he gets to stuff his heavier husband again. In his new clothes.

Then, when he does stuff him in this new style (with new foods, of course), Bucky is suddenly much happier. Not just from stuffing him. He's much happier because, as it turns out, the buttons being hidden isn't that bad. Not at all 🤤

With his stuffy little sweater over his dress shirt, covering his tie and gaping buttons and struggling, worn-out belt, Bucky suddenly gains a whole new level of appreciation for sweaters - the sweater makes him look even chunkier. A layer of softness over his softness. Rounding him out even more. Padding him just that little bit more.

The sweater balloons out and out, showing the indents of each straining button underneath until...

His belly gets to be too much, too big, and his sweater creeps up, showing off the bottom of his button-up shirt where it's getting tugged out of his unbearably tightly belted pants.

That little sliver of his shirt. Exposed. It makes Bucky crazy.

And, oh, there's the waist band of his pants (not for long, his belly will start hanging over before long), too. A little bit.

Just a peak.

A tease that leaves Bucky unable to do anything but feed Steve a whole course by hand, packing food into him with the goal to push the hem of his sweater up higher and higher on the dome of his gut. He wants that dress shirt to come untucked from the stretch he's putting Steve's tummy through, too.

He wants it.

He wants to see the slow, drawn-out progression. The tease. Up and up and up; rounder and rounder and rounder.

Another perk of the sweater is the heat it brings. Steve's a big, growing boy, so he already gets hot fast. But, it only gets worse with his fat and added sweater insulation. Now when he stuffs himself - or when Bucky stuffs him - he turns the prettiest pink then red. Glistening with sweat. 🥵

Overtaxed.

Overheated.

Overfed.

More and more every day, more and more every year, Steve looks more overfed. Fatter. Heavier. Rounder.

(That might be the part about time, how it blends into a montage of growth.)

Sweaters and vests aren't Bucky's favorite 60s trend, though. Far from it. Bucky's favorite thing about the 60s is how suddenly everyone is into finger foods.

Deviled eggs, skewered meatballs in sweet-and-sour sauce, celery stuffed with cream cheese, cheese balls, etc. Anything you can eat with your hands, no silverware. Also, with the finger food comes dips. Clam dip, onion dip, and many more that Bucky would've never thought to make on his own. Dips for dipping little bits of food gripped between fingers.

And finger foods are fucking awesome because Steve eats then messily. At first, he shoves them inhumanly fast into his face, moaning and gasping and sighing. He comes home feeling starved (re: after not being stuffed to the brim, hardly able to move, during the workday), and seeing all the little pieces of food turn him into a monster. A hungry beast. He plows through the little morsels. Never getting enough. Steve uses one hand to settle his swelling gut, and his other hand blurs as he rapidly goes between trays of food and his mouth. Again, eating like an animal. An animal of Bucky's making - he trained him to eat like a pig after all.

When Steve finally slows down, rubbing his tummy and patting it, trying to get his belly to digest faster so he can have more, Bucky gets to swoop in. Another reason finger foods are fucking great. He picks up the little foods delicately and tucks them into Steve's still watering mouth.

With every mouthful, Steve's lips and tongue brush his fingers. It's electric, the wet, hot, slick feeling of his mouth. Pure sin.

Bucky's hands are close enough to Steve to feel it when he moans or when he burps, the hot rush of desperate air. Steve only burps around Bucky's fingers when it comes up so suddenly that Steve can't turn his head to the side to burp more politely. Privately, that gives Bucky quite the thrill, his dirty, hungry pig. Burping uncontrollably. Sure, moaning is hot as hell, but there's something extra about his burps.

Also, about the gurgling of his gut.

His gut under that fucking sweater, dress shirt, and tie. Now he's not just bloated anymore, though... not after a decade of stuffing, now he's got fat. His gut is bloated all the time, glutted fully, but he's also fat. He's soft.

He's never been more handsome, but he's only going to get more handsome as he gets fatter.

1970s

With the turn of the decades, Bucky buys himself more clothes and gets himself familiar with rising food trends, and he also does as he always does, buying Steve new clothes, too. Usually, though, he buys what he knows Steve will wear. Just underwear for sleeping. Blue jeans and t-shirts for non work clothes. And formal work clothes. Boring and simple because Steve's never really cared about his body or looks, uncaring so long as he keeps functioning, but he's so handsome it doesn't matter that he doesn't care so much about fashion. This time, though, Bucky also buys what he hopes Steve will wear. Because something catches his eye.

He can't help himself.

He hopes with everything in him, that Steve will wear some of the tiny, little shorts that have come into fashion for men.

He desperately wants to see Steve in tiny shorts.

So, he buys a few pairs. Some jean shorts that look unforgiving and might cut his doughy waist in delicious halves, some softer more sweatpants-like shorts that will be easier on his sensitive, overstuffed body, and a pair that are modeled like women's athletic shorts, just for the shits and giggles of seeing Steve in something designed for athleticism.

Despite buying them with the intention to get Steve in them, Bucky's still not prepared for it when it happens. He doesn't even have to use his puppy dog eyes or have to wait to ask Steve until he's stuffed and pliable! Steve just shrugs and agrees to it. He's gotten more and more pliable (more domesticated) the larger he's gotten. Maybe it's the fat slowing his body and mind down. Maybe it's making him dumber to be full and indulged all the time. Maybe be stuffed satiates him, leaving him without any room to be stubborn or argue.

Either way, Bucky gets Steve into them. And he is unprepared.

Steve is poured into the little shorts. Not only is there no space between his pale, bare thighs, his thighs squish together, trying to find more space - they're so soft, wide, and excessive - and not getting any. His massive ass hangs out the back of the shorts. Dimpled and round. Like cake. Soft, soft cake that Bucky wants to bite.

His poor husband works up a sweat, waddling from one side of the room to the other and back again and again when Bucky tells him to. He wants to see that ass move.

He's. chunked. up.

Also, also, there's his hips. Those trim, little hips are nowhere to be seen. Instead, his tiny waist has expanded. His love handles hang out of his undershirt - a ribbed, white tank top - and lap over the waist of the shorts. His tummy has really, really started hanging recently; it's just as exposed as his fat sides. It's so heavy and large. Swollen like a fat tear drop.

He looks edible.

As compensation for being forced to strut his overweight, plush, pale body around their living room, Bucky feeds him his entire dinner by hand. And he does it from the couch. TV trays have been popular since their inception in the 50s, but Bucky has always gotten more of a kick out of feeding Steve at the table. Progressively watching his belly approach the table, then push over the edge of the table and spill onto his placemat as he's gotten bigger; progressively watching his hips fill his dining chair; progressively watching Steve struggle harder and harder to walk out of the dining room when he's finally finished, stuffed full.

Now, Bucky breaks out the (slightly out of fashion) trays.

He sets up the feast, course by course. Some of it is actual food: pineapple chicken, quiche, stuffed veggies, and cheese logs. Some of it is snacks, more and more processed crap becoming more common: cereal, crackers, chips, etc. And some of it is dessert: carrot cake and pudding.

Before he eats any of it, though, those little shorts are swallowed by Steve's heft. The scrap of fabric is hidden under his massive muffin top. Bucky digs his fingers into those pudgy love handles and groans.

"Gonna feed you outta these," he promises, voice gone all breathy.

Steve bats his eyelashes and lets his mouth drop open, expectant, and so outrageously hot. After the first bite, he speaks, though, chewing, then licking his lips, "you always do."

"Mmm-hmm, you wouldn't know how hard I had to look to find these in your size."

Steve makes a sound, but his mouth is stuffed fill.

"It was so hard. I wonder if they're gonna stop making anything big enough for you soon."

Stee swallows thickly, "they wouldn't."

Bucky stuffs a heaped fork into his mouth. Making a noise of consideration.

"You hear the news, people are just gettin' fatter. Year after year."

"You're getting fatter."

"Uh-huh."

"Gonna get so fat for me."

"I already am. 'M huge."

"Gonna make you fatter. Huger."

"Yeah," Steve moans, his eyes shut, entirely trusting Bucky, "Gonna get too fat for fat America to even keep up with me."

(I know obesity was actually declared an epidemic in the 80s, but shhhh)

1980s

The 80s brings pasta salad, beef stroganoff, sloppy joes, pudding pops, 7-layer dip, blackened meat, bread bowls, cool ranch Doritos, and Hot Pockets. And Steve tackles it all looking like the hottest, fattest bad boy. Maybe like a mobster boss with his light wash jeans that look like they're painted on and his black leather jacket that he can't zip up. He could zip it up around his gut for, like, a week. Then, he outgrew it. Like everything. That gut.

God.

His gut has grown obscenely round. Like a ball. A beach ball. Maybe a small yoga ball. It forces his legs to spread when he walks, even if he isn't full, and it makes his back arch, too.

It's heavy. He complains about it. It's hard to lug around. He gets embarrassed when he's forced to sit down and then get up because he has to put so much effort into getting up. Heaving himself to his feet. Grunting. Bracing his back as if he's expecting. Getting up from the bed in the morning, getting up from the table after breakfast, getting into and out of his car to get to work, getting out of his office chair for lunch, getting out of his lunch chair, and on and on.

He has a hard time moving.

Bucky can tell.

Steve puts on his leather jacket and jeans on the weekend and then parks his ass in his recliner. He only moves when he has to go to the bathroom. Otherwise, he sits all day. Eating. Watching TV. Letting Bucky lower his recliner into a 180° line so Bucky actually has room to ride him. (One of the only ways to have sex now, with how large Steve has grown). There ain't no way Bucky would be able to get to his dick with that fat, thick belly in the way. There isn't even any room on his lap anymore. The monster of always-hungry gut has it monopolized. And his thighs are nearly too wide, too fat for Bucky to comfortably straddle.

But...

Bucky is a little obsessed with his leather jacket.

Sometimes, when he's half riding him, taking his cock, half feeding him a sloppy joe that makes him look like a pig, smeared over his mouth and chin, he will slap Steve's gut until he sucks in with a pained groan. Then, Bucky'll use all his strength to pull the sides of his leather jacket together, and he will wiggle the zipper up as far as it can go.

Steve grunts and moans and burps.

If he has the air, his lungs compressed by his gut, Steve will moan, "it hurts! Buck! I- I can't! M' too full!" But usually he can't even complain. He just has to take it.

When he stops sucking in, the zipper flies down.

Or, it usually does.

One afternoon, the pressure of his fat is too much for his jacket. Steve is bubbly and drunk and burping and Bucky is so close, writhing on top of him. And Steve's gut surprises them both by breaking the zipper.

It bursts open.

Instantly, Bucky's hands are all over that gut, and he's coming. All Steve can do is moan. Blinded with the release. His belly is stretched. Tight. Hanging off of his body. He's gonna fucking pop. Too much.

When did he get this fat?

Why does it make him so horny?

God.

He whines, almost choking out a sob, grabbing for Bucky's still slim hips with fat fingers, as he cries, "more, more, moremoremoremore."

1990s

Steve may spend all of the 90s on a sugar high because he eats like a fucking kid throughout the years. All the sugar. All the processed crap. It's addictive. He swears. They have to put something in it. He smashes through boxes and boxes of snacks. All at once. The amount he goes through in just a week is unbelievable. He's a fucking black hole, well, not exactly... because Bucky knows exactly where all the food goes. His ever-swelling husband.

Steve eats it all, lunchables, hot pockets, bagel bites, pizza rolls, gushers, string cheese, fish sticks, fruit by the foot, toaster strudel, etc.

All literal junk. Junk food.

Bucky feeds him real food, too, of course. But Steve swears it feels like he can't get enough. Not enough food. Not enough of the fake, processed shit. Even when he's fighting his body's physical ability to fit more inside of himself, he can't have enough. He needs more. More sugar that his brain needs. More rich, homemade food that he will always eat, and will especially eat if Bucky gives him those puppy dog eyes, too.

So, what is he supposed to do but eat?

Admittedly, throughout the decades, Steve's never felt this out of control. He is, though. He's so out of control. And it feels so good.

He doesn't want control back. He only wants more.

Despite his vivacious hunger, Steve still can't believe how fast he's piling on the pounds. It's like he can feel himself blowing up. Like, if he leaves a hand on his gut, it'll expand visibly under his palm. Hot, gurgly, and only tight when he's at his absolute maximum. Most of the time, he's officially too fat to know when he's packed to the brim.

Nothing feels better.

Nothing fucks his mind more than thinking when he puts his hands on his body, he'll find a rock hard, bloated tummy only to sink his fingers into jiggly waves of fat; an ocean of fat. And it's all him.

His belly.

His fat.

Steve can, for a little, hide the bloat the shitty food leaves him with with the oversized, still bad-boy, grunge-like clothing of the decade, but he outgrows it so fast that he never can hide it for too long.

Even those JNCO jeans and baggy flannels can't contain his massive body. His belly. His love handles. His ass. His thighs. His rolls. He's too big. Too big for anything to be oversized on him.

Bucky buys him clothes more often throughout this decade than any other. It's not just in Steve's head. He is speeding through the pounds. Day in, day out, he's growing.

He's always eating. Always sweating. Always moaning.

If his mouth isn't full of food, he's sleeping, showering, using his mouth on Bucky, or he's chugging teeth-rotting soda. The carbination makes him burp so easily, and the burps shift all that food inside him around, allowing his belly to create just a little more room. Room that Steve instantly has to fill.

It's kinda like his body is finally taking after his hunger. When there's any tiny amount of space in his belly, his mind tells him he's starving and he has to fill it; if there's a tiny amount of slack in his clothes, his body expands to fill it. With so much fat and so much food, Steve's eyes are heavily lidded constantly. He feels drunk all the time when he's pigged out. Slow and lazy and uncoordinated. All he can do is let Bucky feed him and let Bucky take pleasure in his blubbery, irresistible body.

2000s

Diets, raw diets, explode in the 2000s, but Bucky won't let Steve hear a word of it. He skips the fruit smoothies and salads and replaces them for Steve with more junk food. Pepsi. Energy drinks. Cupcakes. Cake pops. Pizza. There's also, again, meatloaf and mac 'n cheese. Chicken pot pie, too.

Steve keeps going. He keeps stuffing down junk on top of all the actual food. He keeps gaining and gaining and gaining. It's a barrage, constantly, of food.

"Buck," Steve's loose lips slur, "'m-I'm fat."

"You're not just fat, Stevie. You're huge. A hog. Massive. Enormous. A whale. Immense. A fucking yoga ball of blubber, baby."

"Yeah," Steve whines, rubbing the bloated sides of his gut that he can reach. "Fat."

"No, baby, you're more than fat. You're massive. Say it-" Bucky commands, jiggling his heavy belly.

"I'm m-massive."

"So fucking fat that I can't believe it. Need more words to tell you how huge you are."

Steve just shivers, looking as if he's suspended in orgasm. Getting off on being told how unbelievably big he has grown to be, and how much more bigger he is going to get.

Regardless of his size, Bucky isn't so sure that Steve is aware of the change in style. He's pretty sure he's just aware of his inflating body and the food. The new foods. The returning foods.

Into the Future

When he's not working, Bucky swears Steve is constantly in a food coma. Even when his eyes are open, he's all dopey. Zoned out and happier than Bucky has ever seen him so long as he's eaten within the last 30 minutes.

What a big, fat dumbass.

The perfect husband.

I don't even know what alternative universe this is; I didn't think this far because this is just a mess of horny, but I would like to imagine that by this point (the 2010s, 2020s, etc.), they have more than enough money to retire, OR maybe Steve is still working for a while, but he starts being able to work from home with computers becoming better and more common, so he doesn't have to leave. No more calories wasted by needing to walk or spend lunch away from his feeder husband.

But, just because he can, he still forces himself into clothes. At first. He doesn't need to because he's not seeing anyone else, he may as well be naked all day every day, exposing his white, soft fat that's striped with stretch marks from decades of indulgence, ballooning like biscuit dough from a little cardboard tube.

Still, he keeps forcing himself into clothes for some time.

He does it until he can't.

It happens seemingly overnight.

Suddenly, he's too fat. Too big. Even his shirts large enough to look like a tent on a normal sized human are too small. He can hardly walk by himself, so, of course, dressing himself is out of the question. His body is just too big. Round. Heavy. All he's good for is eating.

He's overqualified for stuffing himself. It's all he's been focusing on for decades, after all. Steve always ate like it was his job, packing down delicious, fatty calories by inhaling food until he was on the cusp of bursting, forming new stretch marks before Bucky's very eyes, but now it is his job.

"Grow for me," Bucky whispers worshipfully, "that's all you gotta do, baby. Grow." Crawling all over his overflowing body.

And grow Steve does.

Until he's bigger than he could've ever imagined being.

Steve's stomach is massive - a huge, round, plush ocean of fat attached to his front. Thick and blubbery. His ass is dimpled and just as massive with thighs to match. His heavy body leaves him lumbering and waddling whenever he does manage to get up. Awkward but also so fucking hot with the way he jiggles all over as he manages one foot in front of the other.

Meanwhile, Bucky spends his time still cooking but also loving on his massive husband. He's always worshipping all that fat, massaging and groping and fucking it. He's irresistible. Unbelievably attractive in his truest form - a show winning hog.

As Bucky feeds and fucks his rolls, Steve just lies there, his head tipped back, food in his plush mouth, panting. Chest heaving; moobs wobbling. Splattering come somewhere deep in his rolls as his fat rubs and moves against him just right - that's all the stimulation he gets these days, his dick has been swallowed by his lard.

There isn't a time when Steve isn't stuffed to feeling as if he's gonna pop. Even though it takes so much more to fill his stretched-out tummy these days. Even in the middle of the night (because Bucky wakes him up to funnel shakes or melted ice cream straight into his ever-expanding gut).

By this point in their long lives, Steve's the size of their mattress.

A full, huge glutton.

And Steve doesn't want to stop. Neither does Bucky. With every mouthful of food, Steve moans just as loud as he always has, praising Bucky's cooking like he's a God (and he practically is at this point, he's spent so many years perfecting his craft). Plus, Steve's just as eager to try new foods. Still, Steve's just as pleased to add pounds, stretch marks, and rolls to his oversized body. The only difference is that now, popping buttons or bursting seams are not bench marks for his gain. Now, the signs of his growth come from the creaking, then the cracking of the slats underneath his massive body.

One day, the bed is going to give out. And he's only going to groan for more food - not for it to be fixed where he lies in the middle of the shattered bed frame, unable to do anything about his predicament. He can't even think about it. All he can think about is how hungry he is. His stomach is packed, and he doesn't know where any food is going to go, but he needs it. He needs to keep chewing, to keep growing, to keep feeding. Please. Please. Please. It's all he needs. He's addicted.

In conclusion:

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #🐮 anon #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #chubby steve #immobility #animal play #tight clothes #clothes destruction

[mini-mousey]

Thinkin about you burping during sex cuz of the movement

-🐮

YES I fantasize about having the burps fucked out of me all the time! Being forced to drink a big bottle of soda while I cockwarm and then juuust as it all settles in my belly I start getting fucked 🥵 burping out of control and moaning like a slut ughh

(PS burped loud as fuck while writing this)

#mouse posts #mouse answers #cow anon #🐮 anon

[dontmakemerightx]

I was going through your old blog since there's not much on this one yet, and the post about you making someone masturbate while you watch definitely got to me, I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum where I'm not repulsed by sex but I feel more comfortable doing it as a more separate but together kind of thing, if that makes any sense. I know it's kinda weird, but that's what that post made me think of

-🐮

It's not weird at all. I totally get that. I'm not asexual (as you may have noticed) but I do feel that way sometimes too. It's good that you know what you're comfortable with, angel ♡

#🐮 anon #anon ask #ftm ns/fw #ftm nsft #ftm top #gentle domination #soft dom #topposting #trans dom #trans top #dom/sub #ftm dom

[dwtdog]

Poor guy whatever could he had done?? Paid his workers??? NOT with with his groomer brother as a co owner?? No that’s absurd 🥺🥺

also what was this a/b/o talk, did you assign each other? What am I?😳

-🐮

i’m an alpha 🐺 (not really) and hmmmm ur tough to place i think just bc u sign off as 🐮 i lean toward omega

#cq.asks #🐮 anon #cq.anons #but u have a bit of confidence to u that could be alpha esque

[grace122]

Just something I keep thinking about

The idea of dating George and going with Sapnap to meet in person. During said visit you and George obviously end up having sex and you’re not quiet so Sapnap overhears and gets the courage to come ask if he can join in on the fun

-🐮

oh my lord yes

sapnap would just be sitting in the living room palming himself pathetically to the noise of george blowing your back out in his room, george didn’t care that you were being loud and frankly he wanted you to be louder. Finally sapnap got up and shuffled over to george’s bedroom door knocking lightly “come in” george almost growls continuing to pound into you, sapnap opens the door and steps in immediately feeling his cock pulsing at the scene before him “really sapnap” george chuckles staring at his best friends hard cock “c-can um can i join?” sapnap asks cringing at how pathetic his voice sounded “you want to join?” george says slowing the thrust of his hips “you think you deserve to fuck a pretty face like this?” he says grabbing your hair pulling you up from where you were buried into the mattress and turning you to look at sapnap “hm? no you don’t, now you can get on your knees in front of the bed and watch me fuck her. Maybe i’ll let you cum after if i’m feeling nice” 🫠

#graces anons #🐮 anon #georgenotfound x reader smut #sapnap smut #sapnap x reader smut

[stargirlfics]

When I say I'm near tears thinking about how I need Daddy!Henry to spit in my mouth I mean it 😭😭🥺💥💳💥💳💥

I need him to call me a good girl or pretty girl and then spit in my mouth making my brain all fuzzy and my insides warm 🥹🥰

helpp I'm down supercalifragilisticexpialidociously bad

-🐮

You get me 😵‍💫 like please I have such a spit kink and with Henry as your daddy that shit would be especially intense which me want to scream! The praise right after, the way he just kinda commands authority! Till my knees give out bestie!!!

#🐮 anon #daddy!henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill headcanons

[livingproofoftbd]

that -30 is better than +30 C since you can just stay inside and +30 is ridiculous

-🐮

oh YES exactly and i will stand by that. -30 is easier to deal with than +30 because the outside heat gets inside and you CANT ESCAPE IT. IT IS THERE. ALL THE TIME. -30 doesnt get inside, it gets on your windows but not inside. inside is warm 🥰 inside is nice 🥰 outsie is brutal but LAYERS. that was what my dad always told me as a kid. "LAYERS." +30 is inescapable.

#i hate canada a little bit #🐮 anon #just ask m #anon

[princessbrunette]

don’t feel harsh when you’re stating your boundaries! boundaries are very very important, and i’m so proud of you for updating your rules to reflect your new boundaries!

also, hope you have a great day!!

-🐮

thank u !!!!! its just important to communicate so i dont get caught out in an uncomfy position bc my rules don’t state otherwise !! i hope u had a great day toooo <3

#🐮 anon

[writeforfandoms]

THOUGHT.

Wolf shifter reader who is a massive pure white Wolf with red eyes being recruited by 141 to help on a mission. The first time they meet her she's getting back to base from a mission and just like stalks past in Wolf form covered in blood. Like coated in it. And Price or Laswell are just like yeah that's them. And the others are s h o o k

-🐮

Lol oh yeah that's definitely an image! Especially if she's someone who is just joining them for one op, that would be a super intimidating way to "meet" her. I do like the idea of a larger than average wolf shifter. Just the looks on Gaz and Soap's faces, they're just like "...are you sure Captain?"

#shifter au #🐮 anon

[gabessquishytum]

"... Dream's absolute favourite pet." So how many of them does Dream actually have? I'm imagining a large room in the palace filled with rows of beds where they keep the war prizes, some Dream took from the royal households of conquered countries; some coming from the best lines of pleasure servants given to him in tribute, raised from birth to be perfect pets; some Matthew pity-bought and Dream only ritually fucked once to signify they were under his protection but they were basically servants to the other pets.

They expected Hob to be one of the glorified servants and he was put at the back of the room, whereas the more favoured pets were near the door, all the better for Dream to pick them out when he does his nightly visits.

But then Hob was the only one to be moved into Dream's quarters, the only one chosen to be at Dream's side in the throne room. They're all pissed. How did this random nobody with his scars and muscles and all that hair get to sleep at the foot of Dream's bed like the good little pet he isn't? He doesn't even want to be here!

- 🐮

So here's the link to the original shy warprize Hob post we're talking about!!!

I'm loving this idea of Dream having a whole harem of warprizes, some of them that he genuinely fucks and some of them who are there to work and just live under Dream’s protection. Everyone's expecting Hob to settle in as one of the servants, but he actively chooses to be one of Dream’s pets... despite the fact that he seems to hate it. No one understands what's going on in Hob’s head, bless him. He insists that he wants to be a pet like the others who lounge around the palace for the entertainment of the courtiers and Dream himself.

Dream is fascinated. He loves Hob’s reluctance, his determination, his shyness, his boldness. All the other pets are rather predictable in their behaviour but Hob is a SURPRISE. He's endlessly amusing.

Dream loves having him there in morning when he wakes up. Hob is all sleepy and soft, blushing as he wiggles up the bed to suck Dream off. He's such a funny little thing, and so sweet. Even while he blushes and squirms, he tries very hard to be good.

But sometimes he needs a little extra help.

Dream is getting so creative with these inventions! All the other pets are jealous because Dream never makes things for them - but they're all so well behaved, they don't need the extra help. They watch with amusement as Hob cries and struggles to bounce himself on Dream’s cock, unable to perform the basic task without turning bright red and sniffling. Everyone is waiting for the day he'll thrown the towel in and become a normal servant instead.

But that's not going to happen, because Hob's scarred little heart is utterly devoted to Dream. And he'll do anything for him, even if it's the most embarrassing, humiliating thing in the world. As long as Dream helps him to be good, he can do anything.

#🐮 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #warprize hob

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Thinking abt Bucky w an absolute dumptruck of an ass like, obv he’d have a belly and would be big all over but just two giant globes of an ass 🥴🥴🥴🥴NSHDBDJDBDND NGHHHF -🐮

Bucky's strut, but... jiggly

I read this ask and instantly was DROOLING.

I can see this in my mind so clearly. Watching those hips and that ass from behind. The way he moves. It's already unfairly sexual. It's a fucking prowl. And then you add some more pounds to him and... asdfghjkl.

I can't handle it.

Bucky/the winter soldier wouldn't have to murder me; he could just walk at me like that, and I would spontaneously combust.

He's just fucking stuffed into his too tight tac pants. Like, it seems impossible that he got into those clothes that morning. They're so tight. Tight enough to see every curve and roll - every little bit of jiggle as he walks. Steps heavy and determined, arms moving by his sides but pushed out wider than normal by how fucking wide he is.

More strutting that I can't help but add 😳🥴

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #bucky barnes #chubby bucky #🐮 anon