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tteokdoroki · 24 days

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𐙚 🪷 TRUTH OR DRINK katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

⋆˙ᝰ about ! “you love me, you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me." with the release of your husband's newest album and the announcement for his latest tour, the two of you are invited on set to film a special kind of promotional video for newlyweds. hopefully, this married couple leave without a hangover. ( 4.8K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint, celebrity!au, all characters are aged up to 20s, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, drinking, newlyweds, exes, some family issues, long-distance, idol!bakugou, fem + model!reader - not beta read!

aali’s love letter ! happy birthday bakugou! another splendid year for our lord saviour dynamght !! i posted this late boo but its out!! i hope you guys are still able to enjoy <3 ty to @cuntcure for helping out n motivating me !! - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“fuck, we’re really doing this, huh?”

across from you, katsuki bakugou shifts uncomfortably — ruby red eyes darting around the plain white set. studio lights glare from all directions, illuminating the slight sweat that beads at the blonde’s hairline. artificial lighting, bright and made to capture everything, refracts of the pearling perspiration and almost creates the illusion of a halo around the crown of your partner’s head. almost as if he’s an angel.

reaching over the small table that the producers have set up between you both, you grasp at katsuki’s rough fingers, toying with them as if to test the waters before you hold them fully — once he’s comfortable enough to accept your physical affection. his palms are warm and a little sweaty, but that doesn’t stop you from giving them a gentle squeeze.

“it’ll be fun,” you whisper, keeping your voice low and calm as the production crew continues to contrastingly flit around you in preparation for the shoot. “and it’ll be great promo for your album!” lifting his hands, you press a kiss to the blonde’s knuckles as though you’re sealing a promise, ensuring that they’re not empty. you smile reassuringly and bakugou returns it awkwardly, drawing back just a tad when a member of production sheepishly approaches the table to set down three different bottles of alcohol, two shot glasses and a pitcher of pineapple and coconut juice as your mixer of choice.

glass bottles of whisky, rum, and vodka glit under the white light too.

“we can back out at anytime,” comes your soft reminder once the crew member retreats to check the sound mic and cameras along with some other staff. “i want you to be comfortable.”

bakugou shakes his head, this time, bringing the backs of your hands to his lips — pale blonde lashes fluttering as he shuts away ruby framed eyes and takes a breath to calm himself. “wanna do it. like y’said it’ll be good. fun.” when he opens his eyes again, he’s looking at you with a toothy smirk that never fails to send a shiver down your spine and butterflies in a flurry through your tummy. “besides, we haven’t been able t’do somethin’ like this together in a while.”

nothing beats your grin after that and with a few more touch ups to your make up ( the both of you ) — you’re ready to begin filming.

“okay guys!” the director on set claps their hands. “wanna start us off? who are you and what are you doing here today?”

you give katsuki’s hands one last comforting squeeze before his crimson gaze slinks towards the camera that’s now rolling, fixating on its blinking red light as it matches his stare. “‘m katsuki bakugou ‘nd this is my wife,” he juts his head over to you gently, muttering your name with love laced between each of its syllables.

you too turn to face the camera, award winning smile settling gracefully on your lips. “and today we’re playing truth or drink!” you squirm excitedly. “we’re really happy to be here! thank you for having us!”

“i’m not.”

“katsuki!”

with a laugh behind the camera, the producer speaks again. “so, you’re some pretty special guests. what do you guys do? how long have you two been married?”

bakugou rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. “i’m a singer-songwriter slash idol or whatever you wanna call it…and i’m on tour right now. so buy my album or you’re shit.”

“and i’m a fashion model slash content creator. we’ve been together for like…five years? married for half a year? a year?” musing out loud, you switch your gaze from the camera to katsuki — letting him know with your eyes that he’s doing a great job.

“eight months, three weeks ‘n two days.” he corrects you seriously, causing sweet laughter to bubble up on your lips.

“sorry, folks. eight months, three weeks and two days.” you retort jokingly. bakugou rolls eyes ruby framed eyes again.

“okay, so still pretty new. let’s start with a shot, shall we?”

ever the gentlemen, your husband pours you a decently sized shot using a drink he knows you like without even asking. he even tops it off with a mixer because he knows that sometimes you can’t get past a bitter aftertaste if the alcohol is too strong. once done with yours, he fills up his own glass before clinking it against yours — both of you knocking back the shot with practised ease.

“god, that shit’s strong.” the pale blonde grimaces.

despite having a facial expression to match, you somehow make light of the situation. “really puts hairs on your chest, doesn’t it, kats?”

“you like my tits naked and juicy, shut the hell up,” smirking cockily, katsuki slides your shot glasses to the side and toys with the stacked white question cards in front of him. “her words not mine.”

“anyways…first card please.”

doing as he’s told, katsuki flips the first card over — skimming the letters written in bold on the other side before he slams it back down. “‘m takin’ a shot.”

the shoot has barely begun and you already find yourself bursting into fits of adoring, amused giggles. “no! it’s not even your question to answer! you have to read it, it’s the first card!” you whine playfully.

“alright, fine,” flipping the card over again with a dejected air about him, bakugou announces the question to both you and the camera. “when was the last time we had sex and where did it happen?”

“oh god.” you pinch your brow.

“told ya. no shots, it’s the first card. y’gotta answer it, babe.” bakugou teases as he casts the card aside, leaning back in his chair slow and sexy like while he watches you hungrily. it’s like making you embarrassed has made him forget that he’s on camera.

sighing through your nose, you pout at the camera and producers who watch eagerly. “on the way here.”

“on the way to this shoot? oh my god!”

“yes! omg. shut up, this is so embarrassing. katsuki don’t laugh!” you practically wail as the set bursts out into laughter. “god, okay. it was on the way here and in the back of the SUV with the partition up. don’t ask me how we had time. katsuki always makes time.”

said katsuki wiggles two fingers towards the camera knowingly and chokes back a raspy chuckle when you frown in response, scooping up your own card. “next question,” your say as your gaze skims the card. “who is your least favourite parent in law? oooh, spicy.”

“definitely her dad,” your husband points a thumb in your direction without hesitation but mouths his words straight into the camera. “you’re a piece of shit by the way.”

the producer pipes in. “can we elaborate?”

“my dad was never the most supportive of my career…but claims everything i have is because of him. it sucks, he's a narcissist and we don’t really speak because of it.” you answer truthfully, attempting to shrug the weight of your familial situation off. you know that most girls dream of having their father walk them down the aisle on their wedding day…but it’s just not in the cards for you. sensing your anger, your hurt and your pain beginning to rise to the surface, katsuki takes the card from you and grasps at your hand — eyebrows raised earnestly into his hairline while he checks to see if you’re okay. a small, wistful smile plays at your lips and you give your partner a gentle nod. “it’s okay though, my mum, mitsuki and masaru have been great parents. katsuki’s mum and dad kept me grounded throughout our engagement, pretty much designed all of my wedding outfits. they were all custom.”

“outfits? as in multiple?”

“ah yes! mitsuki insisted that i had changes throughout the day.” you beam, a giddiness replacing any negative emotion you once felt. your future mother in law had done everything in her power to make you feel like a princess on your wedding day — to this day it made you feel extremely grateful for your positive relationship with bakugou’s family.

“they still fuckin’ spoil her, ma styles her for a lot shoots,” the blonde scoffs but the adoration dancing in the almost brown flecks of his carmine eyes tell a different story. “no seriously, ma ‘n pa love you so much. you’re like the daughter they never had.”

“aw, that’s so cute. i’ll cry.”

katsuki’s turn to pick a card rolls around again, but he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time — index finger toying with your engagement ring. “what’s was the most stressful part about planning a wedding?” he reads. “oh, definitely the micromanaging from other people. shit pissed me off,” your husband answers almost straight away, already preparing to fix himself a shot when the producer asks him to elaborate.

he shakes his head and the producer turns to you. “our managers thought that they could have a say in our ceremony since it was like the celebrity wedding of the year,” shrugging, you fix your own shot which makes your spouse grin. “we ended up having one public and one smaller, private wedding to say fuck ‘em. and no, they didn’t fire me for this.”

“so a follow up, when you announced your engagement to the world what was a difficult thing you dealt with publicly?” someone from behind the camera asks.

pursing your lips, you look to katsuki for an answer. “the fan wars? some of my fans were…are still caught up on my ex and others think the great singer katsuki bakugou is too good for an influencer like me.”

“they don’t know shit. you’re too good for the world baby, i don’t deserve you.”

“corny ass,” you snort directly into the camera’s shot. “i’m sure that’s one of his song lyrics.”

“is fuckin’ not!” bakugou pouts, though he’ll deny that he was later. “pick another damn card.”

he pushes the pile towards you once more and you cheekily swipe one from the middle to make the video a little bit more interesting for those watching from home when it comes out. hopefully the viewers get a laugh out of bakugou calling you a cheater and you sticking your tongue out at him in retaliation — he pinches it back.

“ouch! owie, okay! okay, let go!” flipping the card so that the text is facing you, you begin to read it out loud slowly — nearly bursting out into an incredulous fit of giggles at the question printed in thick black letters. “this is so ironic, baby you’re gonna love this one,” katsuki raises a brow, intrigued by the coy smile you’re barely trying to hide now. “i dare you to call an ex and remind them that you’re happily married.”

a small silence echoes throughout the studio as you stare at one another, waiting and waiting, until a loud, raspy and haughty laugh rips through bakugou’s throat.

“what’s so funny?”

the blonde sat opposite you, still as handsome as the day you first met him — with glittering gem eyes that sparkle under the studio lights and a toothy smile that never fails to melt your heart, suddenly grows shy. a rose tint spreads its way over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks that have lost their youthful roundness, katsuki blushes softly but laughs with his entire body — only just embarrassed by the secret he's about to reveal to his most dedicated fans and the rest of the world.

leaning forward on the table, elbows on the edge, while you tuck your chin in the seat of your palm — biting your lip in amusement. “do you wanna tell them or should i?”

“i wanna take a fuckin’ short first. can i?” katsuki asks, almost innocently. he knocks back a glass of dark, bitter whisky once he gets the go ahead. “she’s my first. my first everythin’. girlfriend, time, wife—“

“i sure hope i’m your first and only wife, kats.” you cut him off swiftly, a mischievous lilt layered thick on your tone.

he slings an arm over the back of his chair, waving you off lovingly. “—you know what i mean, sweets.” bakugou shrugs in the direction of the producers. “i don’t have an ex to call.”

“okay, we’ll have your wife call one.”

at the film crew’s suggestion, your voice raises an octave, notes of surprise littered through out your melodic voice. “me? who would i even call?” you can’t help but snicker, trying to reach for the juice used for mixer so you can plan your escape route out of the dare.

your husband snatches the bottle from your reach, holding it protectively against his broad chest. “call shindou.” he grunts out low but highly amused.

“oh no, i’m not doing that. let me take the shot katsuki.” comes your instant response, tone turning slightly serious.

“who’s shindou?”

“her ex.”

“my ex.”

the both of you announce in unison, though you’re a little less entertained by your menace of a blonde husband — still guarding the drinks as he chucks the used question card to the side.

“why not?”

“cause it’ll be mean? he still hasn’t recovered from finding out i’m dating the idol he used to train with. yanno, the one who debuted over him.”

bakugou clicks his tongue cockily. “he’ll get over it. call him. c’mon, it’ll be funny and you love making me laugh.”

“alright fine but you have to swear you’ll answer the next one.” you turn to the camera. “he’s right though, his laugh is the prettiest in the world.”

bakugou blushes as you pull out your phone and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, surprised at yourself for not blocking and deleting the number. holding up the sleek device for everyone to view, you jab a thumb into the speaker button and watch with baited breath as it begins to ring throughout the studio.

“hello, yo speakin’,” a voice a little higher pitched than your husband’s filters through the speaker. it’s familiar, but doesn’t hold any of the comfort that bakugou brings. it’s been years since you ended things with your ex, the relationship was rocky and full of miscommunications and mistrusts before either of you skyrocketed to fame. there’s no malice between you both or a reason to cause katsuki why worry, you hope, but talking to yo shindou nowadays is akin to talking to a stranger.

giving the camera an awkward thumbs up, you reply shyly. “hi shin, what’s up?”

“oh hey sweetheart, this is a nice suprise.” your ex purrs through the line. you click the buttons side of your phone to turn up the volume — making sure his every word is picked up by the mics in the room.

bakugou chimes in, clearly looking for an opportunity to show off. “hey asshole, don’t get too excited.”

“hello to you too kats, what can i do you for princess?”

“shin, don’t call me that. also we’re shooting truth or drink right now — newlyweds edition with kats. they wanted me to call, tell you i’m married or something… which i’m sure you know by now.” explaining in a rush, you push at bakugou’s forehead, right between arched, dark blonde brows to keep him and his laughter at bay.

“it’s all anyone can talk about these days, especially when i’m on set. married couple of the year.”

the producers mouth to you to ask shindou a question, in which you almost miss underneath the sounds of your newlywed husband suppressing snarky jokes and giggles. “they’re telling me to ask you if you’re happy for me ‘n kats. you don’t have to answer—“

“i am. happy for you. katsuki, as big as of an asshole as he is, makes you way fucking happier than i ever did. he’s good to you, but you’re better to him. the world wants to see you guys grow old together… i hope it stays that way or else i’ll have to swoop back in—“

cringing along the millions that will be watching in the near future, you slice through his words politely before bakugou can blow a gasket. “thanks, shin. you’re sweet.”

“anything for you, sweetcheeks—“

“alright, alright. you’re pushin’ it now, freak. r’member i’m the one clapping these sweet cheeks and i’ll always be a better fuck than you—“ abruptly, your newfound husband snatches up your phone — growling possessively down the line as if to ward your ex off.

“okaybyethankyou!” squealing you hang up the phone and breathe a heavy sigh of relief, head banging on the table in front of you as you try to hide your flustered face. “that went better than expected.”

the blonde before you shrugs nonchalantly as if he wasn’t seconds away from reaching into the phone and tearing shindou’s head from between his shoulders. “i do love an opportunity to show you off, rub our marriage in people’s faces.” alas, he pours you both a shot, adding a mixer to yours, sort of as a reward for making it through the call. “kay, next card,” he swipes one from the top of the pile once more, carefully murmuring its contents into the studio’s cool air. “can the both of you name one person you would have invited into your marital bedroom on your wedding night? see if you’re both thinking of the same person. easy. on three?”

“sure! one, two—“ you count, the temperature of the room raising as it awaits your big reveal. “kirishima.”

“kirishima.” katsuki says at the same time before smirking cockily at the film crew. “next!”

you join him just as your foot flirtatious slides up his leg from underneath the table. “kats says eijirou is packin’, by the way.” your husband’s smile fades into an embarrassed look, everyone in the room laughing along with you. of course he’s seen it. of course you’ve talked about this before. “anyway, my turn! most romantic thing i’ve ever done for you? c’mon now kats, you can think of something. i’m pretty sweet.”

reaching for your hand for the nth time during the shoot, bakugou laces his fingers with yours — decadent dark red eyes instantly drawn to the big rock on your engagement ring and the simple gold wedding band that sits above it as he recalls everything you’ve ever done for him. every gesture; every text, every act of physical touch or service. it would be hard to choose just one romantic thing.

the silence as he ponders almost fills you with dread, a nervousness fluttering about in your chest like a butterfly whose wings are beginning to fail them. they’d have to edit this part out if he couldn’t think of anything.

but then, those plush pink lips that kiss you and call for you, part gently and a soft sentiment escape’s from between them. “you love me,” is all bakugou can say, eyes wide and genuine. “you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me…and, if we’re talkin’ specifics, you remember that time just before my album came out? before our wedding? i was fuckin’ stressed ‘n i was always locked up in the studio, trying to figure out the track list, the final song…”

you nod slowly, exhaling deeply through your nose. “yeah?” the background noise from the crew, cameras and mics wither away until it’s just yourself and bakugou in the room — holding hands as though you’re one another’s life lines.

“it was three am ‘n you were in another city for a shoot but…you still made the drive over to have dinner with me. to make sure i ate,” the tip of katsuki’s rough and calloused thumb brushes over the bumps formed by your knuckles. “just to help me run through things even though i was freakin’ the fuck out and you had a flight to milan the next day. you ate with me and that meant a lot.” he seems wistful as he talks, forgetting that the world will be able to see his heart beating all tender like when the cameras are put away and the footage is polished up.

perhaps he doesn’t care if the world sees him being so vulnerable with the woman he loves on screen. they’ll usually find such openness hidden between the lyrics of his songs. so, perhaps it’s the little alcohol running through his system. nevertheless, quiet love and appreciation seeps from katsuki bakugou’s pours into the quiet atmosphere of the set, the emotions crash over you in waves that you welcome — almost reducing you to tears brewed just for him.

“you asshole,” you sniff, lacking all the spite the insulting nickname carries. “i didn’t think that night meant so much to you… i just wanted to see my baby. wanted to make sure you were okay.”

cocking his head to the side fondly, the blonde singer uses the back of his hand to wipe at your free falling tears you hadn’t realised were there. bakugou doesn’t let go of you the entire time. “don’t cry sweets, you know i hate t’see you cry.”

watery laughter bubbles up on the seam of your lips. “don’t tell me what to do,”

“you said she drove from another city, would you guys say that distance made things difficult for you?”

“sometimes,” you answer the director truthfully. “while we were engaged we’d plan our wedding across different time zones. when i was awake walking for fashion week he was sleeping in his studio making songs.” you explain, looking to katsuki to confirm.

he nods along with another squeeze of your hand. “it was hard yeah, but we got through it. now she has my ring on her finger ‘n she’s stuck with me.”

“send help.” you mouth to the camera.

resuming the game, you snatch up a card and secretly hope that the question is a little more light hearted than the previous. “has my line of work ever made you jealous? oooh, good one,” adding the card to the ones already discarded, you squirm in your seat — excited to know your husband’s answer. “no shots! i want you sober and honest.”

“i’ve hardly had anythin’ to drink!” katsuki snorts. “what’s the sayin’? a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts? let me have something.”

“no! i want sober words and sober thoughts, that’s the aim of the game, stink.”

katsuki rolls his eyes so hard you fear they might drop out of his skull. “spoiled brat,” he mumbles begrudgingly, sucking his teeth. “okay before anyone says anythin’, i’m a secure guy. i trust and value my girl’s word above anyone else’s. i love seein’ her on billboards in every country i visit, on magazines at every airport I’ve ever flown from…”

“it feels like there’s a but coming.”

“wait for it…” you hum gleefully.

“but i hate that one cover shoot you did with that nerd, izuku, for vogue. that’s it. never do that shit again.” bakugou finishes, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

nearly leaping out of your seat, you point at your husband — bewildered. “i knew it! you said it didn’t bother you!”

“of course it did! he had his grubby arms wrapped around you! he stinks.”

“you did not just call izuku stinky, he’s got a feature on your album!”

“his feature can kiss my ass,” you know that bakugou is only half serious, the two have written some beautiful songs together and the cover hardly meant anything — izuku models from time to time as well. it just so happens you also work for the same brands. “my turn again, rate my proposal on a scale of one to ten. how good did i do?”

“nine point five.” you nod assertively, speaking to your audience with love bursting through your heart. “he proposed to me at his first sold out concert, like literally stopped singing and apologised to all of his fans because he had something important to say. that’s when he asked me, in front of his entire world. kats’ is real private so it meant so much to me…”

the blonde leans back in his seat but brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss directly to your wedding rings. “only nine point five? cheeky fucker.”

“it’s only ‘cause your genius-self decided to chuck my ring into the crowd?” you scoff.

“oi! i have good aim, you’re just shit at catchin’ things!” katsuki scoffs back, nudging you with his foot under the table.

“back to the game love birds.”

the two of you put your playful little spat on the back burner and you grasp the next card. “how many years into our our marriage do you think we’ll stop having sex—?”

“never,” katsuki cuts you off, looking directly into the lense as he jabs a thumb in your direction. “i can’t ever get her off my cock. she’s fuckin’ insane.”

heat flares up underneath the surface of your skin in embarrassment. “fuck you.”

“right after this shoot, sweetheart.” he winks right back at you before nodding down at the cards. “last two, yeah? did your life turn out as expected?”

chewing on your bottom lip, you give the question some thought. life has an unpredictable nature, no matter who you are or where you come from. if someone had told you a year into your college degree, that you’d be in front of sorts of cameras as a profession for the rest of your life — you wouldn’t have believed them. if someone had told you that you’d find the love of your life shortly after, you would have called them a liar too. your past has been heavy, a dark cloud you never thought you’d be able to escape — hauntingly daunting.

and even though you know that it’s a burden to place the weight of your happiness on someone else’s shoulders — but you know that katsuki has always been your golden, blinding light at the end of the tunnel. he’s something you never expected, but someone you entirely deserve after everything life has thrown at you.

“no, it hasn’t,” you whisper softly, ever so slightly distinct. your lover leans in, watching you curiously from over stacked question cards and bottles of barely touched alcohol. “i never expected to be so famous so young, that a silly little dream of mine could come true. that i never expected, i still can’t believe it…but, it’s like… meeting you. falling in love with you, on top of all that? it’s like i was destined to be with you, kats. you’re my soulmate. i knew that from the start.”

just like you earlier, emotion wells up inside katsuki. it breaches the cavity of his chest, slows down the rate of his heart and lungs and brings a slight shine to his beautiful blood red eyes. he sniffs but doesn’t dare look away from you — reading deep into your soul despite knowing the pages of it off by heart. “i feel the same,” he mumbles, reaching over to cup your face even with all of the cameras around. “i never expected to go on tour, sell albums and make music…but i feel like my heart always knew you were waitin’ for me.” quietness fills the space between the two of you, neither of you needing to say much. you cup the wrist of his hand that touched your face, leaning into his palm and pressing a kiss to it. “we’re so fuckin’ corny.”

“you love it.” you reply instantly. “i love you.”

“see?” katsuki asks the production crew as he draws the last card for both of you — holding it out for you to read. “cornball.”

“it’s cute! she’s cute and corny!”

“what about the rest of our marriage do you look forward to most?” since the video shoot is coming to an end, and you hardly want to cry any more, you both decide to make your answers short and sweet. “i look forward to spending forever by your side, taking over the world one continent at a time.” you gush, meaning every single word, smiling adoringly.

“ditto, can’t wait to grow old with you, brat.” bakugou mirrors your expression and finally, finally ends the shoot by pressing the ghost of a kiss to your awaiting lips. you feel warm knowing how comfortable he’s grown over the course of filming, even more so at all of the truths he’s given you tonight.

“that’s a wrap! thank you so much guys!”

katsuki salutes the camera, finishing up for you. “we’ve been the bakugous playin’ truth or drink. buy my album, see me on tour, buy a magazine with my wife’s beautiful face on it. like and subscribe.” all the while, you reflect on everything that you’ve learned about your husband whilst filming — that he loves you a lot more than he lets on, that you have his heart for all of eternity, that nothing in this world and cause his love for you to waver,

and as your matching wedding bands continue to gleam beneath the dimming studio lights, you only hope that he knows that you feel the exact same way about loving him too.

2K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 2 months

Note

hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡

ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)

Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them.

He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.

You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.

There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.

“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod.

His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”

He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.

“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”

He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.

“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”

You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin.

You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”

You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical.

His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod.

“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”

—————

He’s a menace.

Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.

He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life.

Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.

“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”

If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.

His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.

“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”

He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.

“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more.

“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.

Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”

You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.

Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether.

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious.

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection.

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it.

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention.

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction.

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home.

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive.

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything.

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious.

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel.

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that.

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends.

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up.

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked.

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent.

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug.

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny.

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away.

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him.

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically.

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room.

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him.

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare.

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes.

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched.

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?”

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting.

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side.

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life.

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything.

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench.

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes.

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank.

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word.

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one.

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat.

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.”

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll.

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building.

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face.

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in.

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand.

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet.

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

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feeder86 · 1 month

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Tommy's Two Hundred

From the moment Tommy had joined the gay dating app, he’d spotted that the closest person to him geographically was a catfish. It was obvious from the little thumbnail picture that no one with a body that good could live so close by and him not know about it. The picture, showing the massive pecs and toned six pack were guaranteed to have been stolen from some straight bodybuilder somewhere in the world; but definitely not anyone who lived within at least two hundred miles of this backwards town in the middle of nowhere. The guy was probably some lonely, middle aged man seeking some attention that he did not deserve; attention that Tommy had no intention of bestowing upon him.

With his good looks and average height, Tommy soon found himself on a couple of dates with guys from the app. Some a little older; a couple still in college. He always got himself so excited before each one, having enjoyed endless kinky exchanges beforehand, back and forth. He liked it when the guys led the conversation with their horny talk, getting most aroused when they spoke about dominating him and tying him up. He gave these virtual suitors a deep, authorative voice in his head as he read out their messages, imagining the ways they’d seek their pleasure from him. In these fantasies, he built an entire persona for his dates; the way they spoke, the way they acted; the things they would do to him after getting back. He was his own worst enemy. No one could live up to such expectations. Despite being bold and brave behind the keyboard of their cell phones, the guys were never as Tommy pictured them in real life. They were polite and friendly; a little kinky perhaps, but only behind closed doors. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Tommy’s bubble to burst, leaving him stuck on a dull date with another boring Mr Average.

As Valentine’s Day rolled around once more, Tommy felt the sting of still being single at the age of twenty-four. Friends, who thought they were being helpful, lamented about how difficult it was to understand why a guy so good looking and successful was still on the shelf. Tommy, however, knew that he just wasn’t being plain enough with people about what he was really after. He’d wasted more than a couple of years of his time on guys who were never going to please him in the ways he most wanted. If he was going to find the man of his dreams, he would need to start his dating profile from scratch.

Stripping his shirt and binding his hands with rope, Tommy posed for his new profile picture. He updated his username to include his submissive nature. Then, it was finally time to work on the profile itself. He stripped it bare of the mundane details about his favourite hobbies and movies, his education and aspirations. In their place, he went to town about his kinky interests and desires. He wanted to submit himself to someone entirely, openly and without reservations. Like a form of cosmic ordering, he outlined in great detail the sort of kinky, dominant guy he was on the lookout for, and ended by posting a further picture of his toned, naked body, wrists and ankles bound with handcuffs.

With breathless excitement, Tommy saved his changes and waited with fizzing excitement for his first messages.

Nothing. Sure, his profile had had lots of views, but no one had felt compelled enough by it to reach out.

Days went by. Tommy began to feel that he had made a mistake; that he had exposed himself and his kinks too openly on the app. Perhaps, rather than being turned on by his pictures and words, they were laughing at him instead; his extreme submissive fantasies, too weird and niche for anyone to actually want to meet him. Maybe the man of his horny dreams didn’t actually exist.

By the end of the second week, Tommy had made up his mind to delete the account. He gave his profile one final read, cringing as he tried to imagine it from another person’s perspective, then he stormed onto the app settings and found the exact link he needed to erase it entirely.

Just as he did so, Tommy saw a message pop up on the screen:

‘Nice profile.’

Assuming sarcasm, Tommy skeptically tapped his way into his inbox and rolled his eyes when he saw that the message had actually come from the catfish profile of the guy who supposedly lived right here in town.

‘Thanks,’ he typed back, determined that he would never be rude enough to ignore anyone who messaged him.

‘If you’re really as submissive as you claim, I’d be very interested in meeting you,’ came the next response.

Again, Tommy rolled his eyes at the fake profile picture. However, given that in five minutes time he would be deleting the app for good anyway, why not just click on the profile and take a look?

What Tommy saw next altered his perspective entirely. He didn’t care if the profile picture was a fake; a guy who could write like that, so erotically, about his desires to dominate, could look however they wanted to in real life. Tommy needed to meet them.

What followed over the next couple of hours was a kinky exchange where Tommy literally poured his heart and soul out to the mystery man on the other end. No one had ever shown such an interest in his kinks, nor drawn them out of him with such precision. So, when the offer of a meet at the coffee house in town came up, he didn’t think twice.

Sitting with his back to the door, Tommy waited patiently, but with a realistic mindset that a guy with a fake profile picture was unlikely to ever actually show up. Then, suddenly, he felt a large, warm hand land on his shoulder and a deep, masculine voice rumble into his ear. “Tommy?”

Tommy didn’t turn his head. He wanted to preserve that catfished image of the man he had been messaging for just a few moments longer. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw that very same man appear in the flesh. Tall, strapping, muscular and handsome; it was as if a beautiful, mid-twenties Greek god had just arrived in his hometown; from out of absolutely nowhere.

“I’m Hunter,” the guy smiled, reaching out his large hand to shake.

Tommy couldn’t help admitting to the fact that he hadn’t believed Hunter’s profile pictures to be real, and Hunter nodded, saying that he had been told the same thing many times. He seemed pleased by Tommy’s appearance too, stroking his knee gently under the table as they settled into their first real conversation.

A few moments later, Hunter was up and ordering coffees for them both. Tommy turned to catch the guy from behind as he stood at the counter: so tall, with such perfect glutes and that broad back adorned with muscular shoulders. Was this really Tommy’s lunchtime date?

Hunter soon returned carrying a tray with coffees and, surprisingly, a large slice of triple chocolate cake, which he placed in front of Tommy.

Politely, Tommy thanked him for it, even though he had not asked for something to eat and actually felt a little awkward picking at it when Hunter did not have anything himself.

“I wanted to discuss our sexual interests,” Hunter stated next, steering the conversation when Tommy seemed to be taking it down a more mundane path. “The domination and submission.”

Tommy felt his cheeks getting hot. There were another two couples close by; probably within earshot. But Hunter didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“What do you want to know?” Tommy replied excitedly.

“Actually, I think it's time that you listened to me instead,” Hunter replied sternly, putting Tommy in his place perfectly. “It’s lucky that I saw your profile as I don’t use that app much for meeting guys.”

“Where do you usually meet guys?” Tommy asked, sensing that Hunter had paused for him to ask just such a question.

“A few places,” Hunter shrugged, flicking through his cell phone. “These are some of my previous subs,” he offered, holding up his phone and swiping through pictures of himself next to other guys in various forms of submission to him: on their knees, bound and gagged, you name it. “Do you notice anything in particular about the guys I sleep with?” Hunter asked next. His tone was serious and it was obvious that he wanted Tommy to respond in much the same way.

The answer came to Tommy immediately, but he squirmed as he tried to think of a way to reply to Hunter, without seeming rude. “Well, you’re so…” he mumbled, gesturing towards Hunter’s powerful body and chest. “And yet, these guys here… there’re a bit…”

“They’re fatties,” Hunter stated for him; obviously not one to dress his language up. “I need you to just come out with it in the future when I ask you questions,” he stated frankly. “That’s the way I work. No bullshit.”

Tommy nodded, feeling turned on by how direct Hunter could be. Having discussed in such detail what his dream dominant would be, it was almost as if Hunter was slotting perfectly into place.

“Why fatties?” Tommy asked, hoping that mirroring Hunter’s language would please him.

“Because fatties turn me on,” Hunter replied plainly. “I work hard to build my body up. So when I fuck a sub, I need him to be soft and doughy for me.” He reached over to the plate of half eaten cake in front of Tommy and gave it a gentle nudge.

Tommy’s eyes bulged. Hunter wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t like to bullshit. His meaning couldn’t have been clearer. “So, you bought me the cake because…” he mumbled. He considered leaving it there and posing it as a question to Hunter, but he got the sense that the dominant hunk in front of him wanted him to just say what he believed to be true. “You bought me the cake to… soften me up.”

Hunter smiled for the first time in a few minutes and he leaned in, putting his giant hand back on Tommy’s knee. “That’s right,” he nodded, seeming to be genuinely delighted that Tommy had been frank with him. “Submission for me, is more than just slipping on a pair of handcuffs during sex. Submission is a lifestyle. It should be your entire body. You should wear it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

Feeling his heart beating faster and his palms sweating simply from hearing Hunter’s deep voice speaking at such a volume about things, without a care in the world, Tommy nodded. “I agree,” he answered. “Submission should be a lifestyle.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Hunter nodded again, his eyes now fixed on the still half eaten cake.

“Oh,” Tommy shook himself, picking up his fork again and popping the next bit of cake into his mouth. Instinctively, he apologised and Hunter did not correct him for it.

“I’m not going to lie,” Hunter stated, nodding subtly with approval. “I think this could work between us.”

“You do?” Tommy shot back with so much delight that he immediately wanted to punch himself in the face for it. “That’s cool,” he nodded, trying to seem more relaxed.

“We’ll meet at my place next time,” Hunter told him, draining his coffee as if this interview was already over. “I’ll message you on the app.”

“Okay,” Tommy replied, surprised by how fast the date was over with.

Hunter leaned in. “And make sure you finish that cake,” he whispered into his ear. “Every last crumb.”

Having Hunter so close sent exciting electrical pulses through Tommy’s brain: the smell of his delicious aftershave, those perfect lips so near to his face. “I will,” he replied sincerely, turning to look Hunter in the face in the hope that they may end with a kiss.

Hunter held Tommy’s gaze, studying him. But Tommy knew better than to be the one to initiate a kiss. “I know you will,” the hunk replied after a few seconds. “You’ll be a good boy,” he chuckled, then turned and walked away without a second glance.

Tommy raced home feeling more elated after a date than ever before. Finally, he had found someone who seemed to relate to him on a level that no one had before. And, unbelievably, the guy was hotter than anyone else he had ever dared to dream of.

Of course, there was the one part of the date that he was less sure about. He hadn’t come across someone so into domination that they had insisted their date consume cake for them. But just because it was a little different, didn’t mean that he had to view it negatively. After all, he’d got quite a kick out of complying, hadn’t he?

“Come on in,” smiled Hunter a few days later, opening the door to his apartment.

Just as he had stated in his messages, Hunter had not long got in from the gym and still looked a little sweaty, dressed in tight, and particularly short, shorts, together with a well-fitted compression top that showed off every detail of his exquisite body. He was even taller than Tommy realised, making him feel so insignificant standing next to him. He tried not to faint, right there on the spot.

“Rule number one,” Hunter began. “When you come here, you take your clothes off as soon as you get inside.”

Tommy stared up at Hunter, wondering if he was serious. But as the pause continued, Tommy realised that Hunter was waiting for him to comply. He fumbled for a second, then began unbuttoning his shirt, feeling more than a little embarrassed to be doing this straight away. He’d taken so long to pick out his outfit for their second date. What a waste of time that was!

“Come on, quickly!” Hunter prodded him impatiently.

Tommy kicked off his shoes, removing his pants and underwear in one go, knowing that his dick was going to be pathetically hard already. He stood there after awkwardly removing his socks, not knowing whether to cover his hardness, or act like this was normal.

Hunter nodded with approval. He reached down into the pile of discarded clothes and pulled out Tommy’s underwear, holding them up as if for inspection, and gripping the small waist between his fingers. “Cute,” he chuckled to himself, seeming to find them highly amusing.

But Hunter did not throw them back onto the floor. He carried them as he turned into the apartment, clearly expecting the naked Tommy to do the same.

Following the jock inside and admiring those fine, muscular glutes just ahead of him, Tommy had never felt so turned on in his life. It had been immediate, from the moment he stepped inside. He felt, at that moment, that he would have eaten an entire mountain of chocolate cake if Hunter had told him to.

Hunter led him to the kitchen area, where Tommy was surprised to see that the big man was busy preparing a meal for them both, despite not having even showered yet. A good meal was clearly more important to him.

“Smells delicious,” Tommy chirped politely, still unsure whether to cover his boner with his hand as he trotted in.

Hunter raised his eyebrows in recognition of his comment, but did not reply. Instead, he pulled out a chair at his table and pointed for Tommy to sit whilst he went back to stirring and serving it out.

There was something so sexy about a man in the kitchen. There were so many things on the go and yet Hunter did not seem in the least bit flustered. Everything was under complete control. But as Tommy watched, he noticed that it was all being served onto separate, single plates; not distributed between the two of them as he had expected.

At last, Hunter pulled out a chair and positioned it directly in front of Tommy. Then he sat, spreading his strong legs and looking at his guest seriously. “I enjoyed our date, Tommy. I really did. I think you’re a nice guy and I believe that you would make a great sub for me.”

Tommy smiled back, pleased; feeling the need to tuck his hardness between his thighs whilst Hunter was being so friendly.

“But if I’m going to spend some real time with you, I need to know what you can do. I also need you to see the type of man I really am. You may not like any of what I have planned tonight. You may want to leave. And that’s fine. But at least we'll both know where we stand, and neither of us will get our hopes up, thinking that this is more than what it is.”

Tommy looked from the gorgeous man to the piles of steaming food still on the counter. He knew that Hunter would want him to think for himself and be direct. “You want me to eat this for you, don’t you?” he asked, realising that the chocolate cake slice of their first date had just been the start of whatever kinky play Hunter was into.

Hunter simply nodded. “I want to see how far you’re willing to go for me.”

The stud sat back, lifted his arms and removed the tight compression shirt he was wearing, revealing his remarkable torso to Tommy for the first time.

Chuckling slightly at the obviously smitten expression on Tommy’s face, the large guy leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Are you ready to do this for me?” he whispered into his guest’s ear, before picking Tommy’s small hands up and placing them on his strapping chest.

The hot, sweet breath on Tommy’s neck, combined with the musky scent of the jock’s body, so firm and strong, made him want to climax there and then. “Yes,” he replied obediently.

Hunter sat back again with a smirk, making Tommy’s hands fall back down. He knew exactly the effect he was having upon the boy. He reached down to the guy’s stomach and, with the back of one finger, he stroked across the light six pack that showed there. “Goodbye, little buddy,” he teased wickedly. Then he stood up, seeming to loom larger than ever without his shirt on, and brought the plates and bowls to the table.

Armed with only a fork and a spoon, Tommy was expected to feast on all of it.

Luck was on Tommy’s side; he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. Plus, Hunter was watching him, rubbing his back sweetly and advising him on what to eat next; taking him back and forth from one dish to another. But something seemed to happen about thirty minutes in. Hunter changed slightly. He’d had a laid back attitude the entire time that Tommy had been there, as if he wouldn’t have been bothered if Tommy cancelled the date and took himself home instead. Maybe he was used to that. But now he was actively supporting; up and about, fetching the furthest plates so that Tommy did not need to reach. The man’s breathing had altered as well, with deeper, more rapid intakes of breath as he watched Tommy eat. Then, with a small glance down, Tommy saw that the thickest hardness had swollen down one side of Hunter’s gym shorts. How incredible! Had Tommy really excited the dominant man that much?

“You’re doing well,” Hunter praised him; his voice deeper and more gravely than Tommy had heard it before. “I’m impressed.”

Tommy’s stretched out stomach began to really hurt about forty minutes in, yet he continued to push himself as far as he could. Some plates were clean now, which Hunter got up and replaced with some dessert items. Tommy had always enjoyed switching back and forth between sweet and savory items, so the additions to the table were more of a help than a hindrance.

Eventually, the time came when Tommy knew he would have to stop. His pace had slowed and he started selecting those easier, lighter items to make the remaining plates look at least a little emptier. “That’s it. I’m done!” he whimpered, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his painfully distended stomach.

Despite expecting cries or protests from Hunter ordering him to finish the pathically small amount of pasta he had left, or gulp down the last few melting scoops of ice cream, Hunter simply sat there, surveying the destruction on the table. “Where did you learn to eat like that?” he asked, seemingly flabbergasted.

Tommy quietly dredged up a burp to relieve some of the pressure and shook his head. “Don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’ve always had a pretty good appetite.”

Hunter still seemed unable to comprehend what he had witnessed. “I’ve seen some seriously fucking fat boys eat less than half of what you just put away.”

Tommy burped again and found some pleasant relief; more than he was expecting. He knew how expensive the ice cream that Hunter had served him was, and decided to finish it off after all, not wanting to see it go to waste. He could see Hunter staring at him in amazement. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I’ve always had a very fast metabolism.”

“I can soon destroy that,” Hunter growled, giving away just how horny he was. “Natural greed like this… It's incredible. And very rare!”

“Thanks,” Tommy smiled,unsure what else to say.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Hunter asked next, wrapping a big arm over Tommy’s shoulders, like a snake about to suffocate its prey. “I know you don’t have work in the morning. I can make you breakfast.”

A mixture of relief and arousal swept over Tommy. He’d made such an effort to eat, he’d all but forgotten the fact that he’d need to catch the bus home later.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Hunter teased, as if Tommy needed persuading. He reached for a tiny bottle of lubricant in his shorts and tipped a small amount of it onto his fingertips, before gently massaging the head of Tommy’s hardness.

Tommy gasped and grabbed for the sides of his seat, as if the floor was about to cave in. Hunter was so good at this. All that eating made the oxygen catch in his chest and it took him a few seconds to get his breathing into a rhythmn as Hunter took the reins of pleasuring him. He nodded his head, not wanting to use his voice in that moment for fear of how pathetically weak and needy it might sound.

“Come on Greedy Boy,” Hunter teased him. “Let’s go take a shower together…”

“I can’t come next weekend,” Tommy grinned, addressing his coworkers six weeks later. “I’m away with my boyfriend.”

As predicted, the whistles of delight sounded in the air as they all made a fuss at the news that their colleague was dating at last. Tommy wasted no time in sharing a picture of the two of them together, sitting in his parents’ lounge.

“He’s hot!” blasted one of them straight away.

“He looks like he should be on a catwalk!” squeaked another.

Tommy smirked to himself. He loved the reactions he got to pictures of Hunter. Sure, people might have thought he was punching quite significantly above his weight, but he was still the one who got to be fucked by such a hunk, and not them. However, behind that handsome smile and perfect ‘boy next door’ act Hunter laid on astonishingly thick for all of Tommy’s family and friends, lay the kinkiest, most dominant lover he could have ever wished for. The things they got upto in the bedroom satisfied him completely. After years of dating boring guys, Hunter seemed to swoop in and make Tommy fall hopelessly in love with him in only a matter of days. Tommy was utterly devoted to him. And the best part was, Hunter knew it.

“You haven’t really told me much about these friends of yours we’re going to meet this weekend,” Tommy pondered, sitting in the passenger seat and noting how far out into the country they had gone on his online map.

“Well, why bother? You got along with all my other friends,” Hunter chuckled, obviously keeping something from Tommy about this trip.

Tommy sighed. “Yeah, but they were all co-workers and old school buddies. They don’t know… all the sides of your personality,” he replied diplomatically.

“Well, let’s just say, this weekend will be good for us,” Hunter smiled, leaning back and driving smoothly. “These guys are sexy as fuck, and we all like to play together. I’ve been excited to show you off to them since we first started going out. ”

“Show me off?” Tommy asked. “How so?”

“Just you wait and see,” Hunter laughed, adjusting the developing boner he was getting in his crotch. Something about this was exciting him very much. Then he reached his hand across to stroke Tommy’s thigh and brushed off some of the many wrappers from the drive-thru they had stopped at a good few miles back.

The location, when they finally arrived about two hours later, was nothing short of breathtaking. The house was set in the most charming of spots, overlooking the hills; with eight bedrooms, a pool, and the largest hot tub Tommy had ever seen. They entered, Hunter leading the way, only to see several shirtless men all standing around in the kitchen. They cheered when they saw Hunter and came over to greet him with a hug.

Tommy stood back awkwardly. He’d been so stupid in how he had imagined these men in his head. They were not at all as he had envisioned them; all of them round bellied and at varying levels of obesity; not the types of guys that someone in Hunter’s extreme, peak physical condition would have been expected to associate with. But, then again, Hunter had always said that he preferred fat guys.

“And this is my new boyfriend, Tommy,” Hunter finally stated, pulling Tommy forward to greet them all.

There was a look of surprise on all the guys’ faces. One of them furrowed their eyebrows, as if about to ask whether Hunter was being serious. Then, the first one stepped forward and shook his hand warmly; followed by the rest of them, one by one.

“That was a little weird,” Tommy whispered as the pair of them went up to the bedroom that had been assigned to them: thre master suite no less. “Did they not know that you’re dating?”

“No, they knew,” Hunter smirked, undressing himself and slipping on his tiny swim shorts to head out to the pool. “I date fat guys, remember. I’ve fucked and dominated every one of them in my time,” he continued, checking his perfect hair in the mirror. “So when I told them I was dating the fucking greediest, sexiest guy I’d ever met, they’d probably assumed you were a lot larger.”

“Wait. So do they know that you…” Tommy asked.

“These guys know everything. That’s why I was so excited for this weekend. We can just relax and be ourselves, without having to worry. I can cook mountains of food for you, just like normal, then bring you up here, tie you up and fuck you all night long,” he grinned, striding over to Tommy and kissing him. “Now, get changed,” he ordered, throwing some swim shorts at him.

“Looking good!” growled one of the men as Hunter led the way down the stairs. “I’ve never seen you looking so chiselled.”

Hunter stood and soaked in all of their comments, comically flexing and posing for them all. Then he smirked and tapped one of the guys on his gut. “I could say the same to you, buddy,” he nodded. “This overhang has really gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw you.”

Tommy inhaled slightly with shock at Hunter’s rudeness. He looked for signs of offense, until he saw that the man instead looked mightily pleased with himself. “Paul has been feeding me a big tub of ice cream before bed every night,” he pointed over at another large bellied guy in the corner, who was obviously his partner.

“Well, it’s really working,” Hunter smiled at him, giving him a deep, horny kiss. “I’m doing the same with this little guy,” he continued, pulling Tommy closer to him. “He was still living with his parents when I met him, but I’ve got him with me most of the time these days. That’s making things easier. Ice cream before bed is one of the things I started him on straight away,” he stated proudly.

The eyes of the men studied Tommy’s body in his swim shorts.

“I’m having to break down his incredibly fast metabolism. It’s not ideal. But if I turn him around, you can see,” Hunter explained, spinning a light and clueless Tommy around and bending him down so that his small butt faced the men instead. “There’s a little more softness forming around his lower back and…” he continued, dropping Tommy’s swim shorts slightly so that his butt cheeks showed, “...his glutes and thighs are filling up a lot more than when I first met him.”

Hunter tapped Tommy’s butt, creating a short ripple.

“Do you see it?” he asked them all.

With his head down, facing away from them, Tommy didn’t know if the guys had nodded in agreement.

“Do you think he’s going to be quite bottom heavy then?” another of the men asked, clearly feeling that Tommy’s butt was wothy of discussion.

“Possibly,” Hunter agreed. “It’s a bit too early to tell. There aren’t many fatties in his family for me to get a good idea of how he might develop. That was one of the first things I checked. But he’s quit the gym to spend more time with me, so that should speed things up a little.”

Tommy felt his swim shorts getting pulled back up and a sweet kiss being placed on his forehead by his boyfriend. Then he was spun back to face the others, just as they all started chuckling with amusement to themselves, noticing the hardness that had developed in Tommy’s crotch during their conversation about him.

Hunter soon noticed as well and joined in the laughing, patting Tommy on his butt proudly. “He’s a kinky little fucker too!” he smirked, repositioning himself behind Tommy, rolling his big strong arms around the smaller guy’s shoulders and gently rubbing his crotch into his lover’s rear.

“I take it he’s a sub?” Paul asked from the corner.

“Of course,” Hunter shot back, gently nibbling Tommy’s ear. “One of the most obedient I’ve ever had,” he whispered. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you Tommy?” he teased, reaching one arm down to stroke the hardness in Tommy’s shorts, even with all the other guys there.

Tommy’s head flopped back against Hunter’s shoulder. In this situation, he felt so crazily out of control, yet it was arousing him in ways he could not explain.

“Anyway, come on, Piggy,” Hunter finally ordered, pulling his large hand out from Tommy’s crotch. “Let’s go try out the pool.” He tapped his lover on his butt, admiring the slight flutter that spread into the guy’s thighs. “But remember, not too much exercise for you. I don’t want you to spoil all the fast food calories I bought you earlier.”

Dinner was served a couple of hours later: a vast spread of multiple dishes, prepared by the varying couples in attendance. They sat in the shade, all of them in their swim shorts, and some of the men spilling out of the tight patio chairs that the rental property had for its guests.

“You finished already, Danny?” Hunter asked the significantly overweight man across the table. “Tommy will be nowhere near finished. He’s got at least another twenty minutes in him,” he boasted.

“It is extraordinary,” one of the others nodded in agreement, seeing how easily Tommy was packing it all in. “Is this how he usually is?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hunter nodded, reaching over and spooning on another large serving of cheesy pasta, as if he was psychically linked to his boyfriend and knew exactly what he wanted. “He can go like this for every meal: breakfast, lunch, dinner… He’s also a great little snacker as well. I need to eat frequently throughout the day to keep this physique up,” he explained, tensing his large biceps. “So it’s easy to get this one eating with me, and it still never spoils his appetite when dinner time rolls around.”

“How are his family feeling about him dating a feeder?” Danny asked, eyes still on Tommy as he continued to consume.

“It’s still early days,” Hunter replied. “He’s not really started to fatten up properly yet and take shape. Plus, they absolutely love me. I have his mom eating out of the palm of my hand! I’m sure the idea that I’m fattening their son won’t cross their minds for some time yet.”

“What’s his recovery time like?” Danny’s slightly slimmer husband asked next.

“Pretty good,” Hunter nodded again. “After he’s done here, I’ll take him upstairs, jack him off and then let him sleep for a couple of hours. Then he’ll be back up and ready for something else before bed,” he laughed, rubbing his boy’s back sweetly.

Tommy listened to it all as he continued to eat. Below the table, his hardness was weeping into his swim trunks. It wasn’t at all how he anticipated the life of a submissive, but it was still absolutely perfect, hearing Hunter boast about his control over him to all his friends.

“Are you struggling there, Fat Boy?” Hunter grinned as he watched the enormous Jack trying to repack his suitcase in the middle of the lounge that Sunday.

Tommy could tell that Jack was Hunter’s favourite of all the fat guys; most likely because was the softest of them all; partly due to his shorter height, making him rounder and more spherical than the others. Tommy had been with his boyfriend long enough to know when Hunter was getting horny and he sensed the spark of arousal within him each time Jack waddled on by, dressed only in his swim trunks all weekend.

Jack wiped his brow and nodded. “I’m not as sprightly as I used to be.”

Hunter chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Harry has done an awesome job on you. All that fresh fat in that big gut…” He growled in approval, admiring it all. His hardness was getting too much for him and he pulled Tommy gently down into his crotch to pleasure him whilst they spoke.

“I think you’ve got a good one there too,” Jack nodded over at Tommy, sucking away, as ordered.

Hunter sighed with pride and slapped Tommy on his butt, as he crouched across the sofa. “He will be. He just needs time to get into my ways.”

“He looks pretty obedient to me,” Jack chuckled.

“Oh, definitely! Like I said, he’s one of the best subs I’ve ever had. Decent blow job skills too,” he sighed, really starting to feel Tommy’s work now. “I just need to take down this metabolism of his.” He gazed down at the back of Tommy’s head bobbing up and down in his crotch. “I need every part of him to submit to me.”

Jack nodded knowingly, trotting over and rubbing Tommy’s butt as well. “Don’t worry, Hunter. I know you. You’ll have him under control very soon now...”

Over the next few weeks, Tommy felt a creeping tightness in his workpants. He stared in the mirror, hardly believing that the swollen glutes and thicker thighs were actually his. In his constantly bloated state, he hadn’t noticed the disappearance of his light six pack, as a thickening layer of fat began to spread itself around his waist. In fact, it was only as he jumped down from his office chair after finding something on the top shelf of a cupboard, that he noticed the first flutter of that fat, especially in his chest. But after that day, everything seemed to spiral.

“Hunter, I need you to come to my work,” Tommy whispered down the phone.

“Why?” Hunter asked, clearly in the middle of a training session with one of his clients at his gym.

“I bent down to pick up my pen and…”

“You ripped your pants,” Hunter finished for him. “About time. Did anyone see?”

“No,” Tommy replied with relief.

“That’s a shame,” Hunter sighed in disappointment. “And now you want me to drop everything and head over to deliver some larger pants for you?”

“Yes, please!” Tommy begged, knowing that his dominant boyfriend might actually get quite a kick out of leaving him in his ripped pants all day long.

A long, excruciating two hours later, Hunter arrived at the office. Many of the female employees rushed from their desks to greet him, and Hunter flirted sweetly with them, knowing exactly what sort of effect he had on them. It was strangely arousing to see him in action, pretending to take an interest in Melissa’s honeymoon or Fran’s new grandchildren; this charming character that he portrayed with ease.

“Well, I must go, ladies,” he smiled, walking towards Tommy’s office as some of them continued to bleat on. He closed the door behind him and comically put his body against it as if to stop anyone following him in. Then he locked it, just in case. “How do you put up with such boring people?” he sighed, looking straight at Tommy.

“They absolutely adore you,” Tommy reminded him.

“I know. But they’re still fucking boring,” Hunter smirked, checking the blinds were closed properly before striding over to his chubby lover who rose from his chair to greet him with an embrace.

Immediately, Hunter seized the opportunity in those moments of weakness; his strong hands sliding down to the tear in Tommy’s pants, mercilessly ripping them open further.

Tommy’s hands slipped back surveying the damage. Now, even his underwear had been compromised as he felt cool air against his increasingly fleshy glutes. “Please tell me you brought my new pants,” he blasted in panic.

“I did,” Hunter nodded, rifling through his backpack and showing them briefly. “But it’s going to cost you,” he sniggered, now pulling out his hardness from his shorts and nodding for Tommy to lie himself on the table.

“But I’m in work!” Tommy shot back.

“All the more reason for you to stop complaining and get a move on then,” the man laughed back, stroking his thick hardness to warm it up for Tommy’s softening butt.

Tommy lay himself down, realising that one of his most kinky work fantasies was about to come true, despite feeling no less worried that there would be a knock on his door at any moment. He spread his legs, making the tear even more pronounced, then heard the thud of a supermarket cheesecake being dropped by his head and then slid underneath his nose: Hunter’s latest fascination, watching him gorge on something extremely fattening whilst fucking him.

Both of them set to work, Hunter pounding him so forcefully that the cheesecake smeared itself over Tommy’s nose and under his chin as he tried to eat it at the same time. It was clear that he needed to eat fast, save getting it on his white shirt and ending up in exactly the same sartorial predicament again. His tongue came into play, scooping it all up and then pushing whatever didn’t need chewing straight down. Hunter didn’t take long to finish, but the sweat on his brow gave away just how much he had really gone for it. He threw Tommy a pack of cleaning wipes for his face and unfolded the new pants, presenting them like a prize to his lover.

A minute later, Hunter insisted on being walked out of the office; both of them stopped on the way multiple times.

“Yes, we’d love to come over for dinner sometime, Christine,” Hunter smiled politely, both he and Tommy knowing full well that it would never happen. Hunter wouldn’t waste his free time socialising with any of these people, unless there was something in it for him.

“Whart a nice boy he is!” Christine marvelled, standing at the main entrance of the office block, watching Hunter drive off. “So polite and gentle!”

Swishing his tongue around his mouth and still tasting nothing but cheesecake, Tommy nodded in agreement. “He’s the best.”

It felt very festive, turning up at the picturesque rental cottage covered in snow. Unlike last time, Tommy knew exactly what he would be walking into as Hunter’s friends arranged their next meet up. Being from up north, renting these houses was the best way for them to meet up with Hunter, who they all found just as fascinating and intoxicating as Tommy did.

“Someone has been eating well!” the men chuckled, seeing Tommy for the first time in almost six months.

Tommy nodded, taking his big jacket off. In the last couple of months, his cheeks had blown up in a way that was not too dissimilar to a hamster stuffing itself with seeds. Fat had spread under his chin and into his neck, always visible now that Hunter insisted that he stayed clean shaven. Hunter kissed him proudly, always delighted whenever anyone mentioned his boyfriend’s gains.

“I’m guessing you defeated that fast metabolism of his?” Danny laughed, seeing more and more of Tommy’s shape as he removed the layers of winter clothing.

“Did you ever doubt me?” Hunter smirked back, grabbing both of their bags to take them upstairs; never wanting Tommy to burn any calories unnecessarily.

“What do you weigh now?” Paul jumped in after Tommy and Hunter came back downstairs after settling into their room.

Tommy looked to Hunter, knowing that he would want to be the one to tell them all.

“We’re up 70lbs since you last saw him,” Hunter beamed, draping his big arm over Tommy’s shoulders. “I bet you can hardly recognise him with these chubby cheeks, huh boys?”

“I suppose the sweatpants come in handy these days?” Eddie asked, nodding at Tommy’s casual attire as he stood beside his muscular boyfriend.

“Um, I guess so,” Hunter pondered. “To be honest, I don’t let him wear clothes when he’s at home. Do I?” he asked Tommy in an attempt to include him, even a little, in this discussion about him.

Tommy shook his head.

“As you can probably see, his tits are starting to come in real nicely,” Hunter continued, lifting Tommy’s shirt for the boys to see. “Lovehandles are fully in shape now, and the back fat,” he rambled on, spinning Tommy around for their viewing pleasure. “I’ve had to rescue him twice in work now after he’s split his pants,” he laughed, rolling the sweatpants down so that the guys could see the transformation that had taken place in Tommy’s glutes. “And, best of all…” he went on, rapidly spinning Tommy like a ragdoll again to face them once more, “Check this out…”

The boys marvelled in unison as Hunter grabbed a thick wedge of fat that had amassed at the top of Tommy’s groin.

“It’s hard to believe how much fat there is here, considering he’s only 220lbs at the moment,” Hunter grinned. “It’s incredible!”

“Well, we can help add to that this weekend,” Danny smiled. “It’s your first holiday season as a fatty,” he nodded at Tommy. “That’s got to be quite exciting?”

“It’s also our first one together,” Tommy replied, falling back into Hunter’s large chest.

“What are you guys doing for the big day?” Eddie asked next.

“Well, we told Tommy’s parents that we were going to my family. And then we said the exact opposite to my parents. So, basically…” Hunter smirked, pulling his lover into a cute sideways cuddle, “...this little piggy is going to be spending the day sitting on my cock whilst I feed him absolutely everything I’ve been preparing for him for the last month.”

The guys all looked at each other, clearly astounded and secretly aroused by the idea.

“Have you had much backlash from Tommy’s family now he’s getting so overweight?” Danny questioned them later, sitting at the table, waiting for Tommy to finish his meal.

“Not so much,” Hunter replied. “Now his face has started to balloon, people are certainly a lot more aware of it. But his parents aren’t as switched on as mine. My dad pulled me to the side a couple of weeks ago and told me to start going easy on Tommy.” He straightened up, about to do an impression of his father and put on a dull, stuck-up voice. “Your mother and I know exactly what you’re doing,” he began at a fast pace, poking his finger out like a school teacher. “You’ve always been forceful about getting your own way; always the bully we used to get complaints about when you were in high school. But Tommy is a nice boy; the nicest you’ve ever brought home, and you’ve got to start getting your kicks some other way. One that doesn’t involve him getting so out of shape!”

The men all laughed in unison.

“I just tell them I’m going to set up a diet plan for Tommy in the New Year,” he chuckled; setting the rest of them off.

“Well, I can imagine exactly what sort of ‘diet plan’ you’ll have for him,” Danny smirked, knowing his friend all too well.

Hunter nodded and laughed along with them. “Yeah, this fat boy is so fucking screwed!”

Their conversation rolled on. All the while, Tommy continued to eat.

“Good boy!” Hunter sang moments later as Tommy finally put his knife and fork down; his plate cleared. “Was that tasty? That lamb dish is one of Eddie’s most fattening recipes. I should know. I taught him how to make it.”

Tommy nodded his head; utterly stuffed.

“Do you want me to take you upstairs for your pleasure time?” he asked the blubbery boy. “It’s part of his routine,” he explained to the guys. “Or would you rather have it here, so that the other fat boys can see you?”

Tommy looked around at the faces staring at him. All of the men were shirtless and some of them, like him, had come to the table wearing nothing at all. His initial thought was to go back upstairs. However, that seemed like such an effort in his stuffed state. He looked over at a cosy chair by the fireplace and nodded; “Over there.”

Initially, the other kinky guys had pretended to busy themselves whilst Hunter took Tommy over to the chair and began to rub his hardness up and down. However, their curiosity and arousal was soon gettng the better of them, one-by-one, coming to sit on the other chairs or stand nearby watching Hunter controlling his sub.

“Are you a good piggy for me?” Hunter whispered into his ear, making Tommy moan and nod. “You’ve put on so much fat for me this year. Did you see how shocked the guys were earlier? They’re all looking at you now.”

Tommy opened his eyes and looked around. What would he have said a year ago, had he imagined a scenario that was anything like this?

A curious and horny Eddie licked his thumb and began rubbing it over Tommy’s pointed nipple.

Hunter looked across with approval. “Piggy loves that now his tits have come in. He can’t get over how sensitive they are.

Danny licked his thumb and began playing with the other nipple, before Paul came along and grabbed a wedge of Tommy’s stomach fat, as if hardly believing how quickly it had developed.

“You see, you’re the star of the show, Piggy!” Hunter whispered into his lover’s ear.

Tommy’s breathing became a lot heavier as he felt his climax building.

“It’s alright, Piggy,” Hunter continued. “Don’t hold back. You can show them what I taught you to do when you climax.”

Tommy looked into Hunter’s eyes. Was it really okay to let himself go like this? But the orgasm was coming so fast and the urge to do it was becoming too much for him to resist. He gasped, letting go of his inhibition, then snorted, loud and clear, just like a pig, mimicking the tones that Hunter had taught him exactly. Jets flowed across the coffee table in the middle of the room and Tommy shut his eyes, calm at last..

As the New Year came and went, Tommy realised that his weight had spiked at an alarmingly fast rate over the holidays. Hunter had declared, looking at the vast new size of Tommy’s glutes, that it had been the best gift he had ever received. The gains did eventually slow down, but never stagnated. And so, by their first anniversary of getting together, Tommy stood next to his gorgeous boyfriend with over one hundred and ten pounds of added fat on him.

Hunter was more pleased with his own body than ever before as well. He’d spent the last few months bulking his shoulders and glutes, so that even he was outgrowing his clothes. Seeing Tommy swell so fast had given him the motivation he needed to make a real push with his weight training, and he spent much of that summer without a shirt on, both inside and outside of the apartment. He’d inherited a decent amount of money from a great uncle he had never even met, spending most of it on a new convertible and a designer watch that helped to inflate his ego even further. Their kitchen had been the epicentre of it all, with Hunter cooking himself up vast amounts of high protein meals, whilst simultaneously pouring in the butter, oils and grease into everything he made for Tommy.

Hunter’s bulking had also created the perfect excuse for Tommy’s ever swelling stomach. Hunter made no secret of how much he had to consume in order to keep up the strapping muscle on his body. “Most evenings, I’m cooking up food and portioning it out for myself for the next day,” he explained to Tommy’s aunt during their next visit. “But I think the smell of it makes Tommy hungry, and when I go to bed, I hear him rummaging around in the kitchen for hours.”

“Oh, Tommy!” his aunt tutted with disappointment. “No wonder you’ve gained so much weight then. You need to exercise some self control.”

Hunter nodded in agreement, rubbing Tommy’s back supportively; as if this was all one great big intervention, aimed at helping him. The lies just rolled off the hunk’s tongue with such ease and he’d soon be laughing in the car at how easily they all swallowed them. “Come on, Fatty,” he whispered whilst still smiling and waving at Tommy’s extended family as they reversed off the driveway. “Look at their faces,” he laughed. “They really think you’re going to turn things around this time.”

“My aunt spoke to me a minute ago, before we left,” Tommy explained from the passenger seat. “She told me that you’re the fitness expert and that I just need to do whatever you say.”

Hunter laughed victoriously. “Good old Auntie Paula!” he roared, waving one final time to her in particular. “In that case, your fitness expert is taking you home to sit my dick while I feed you your disgustingly oversized dinner. I heard that chair squeaking when you sat on it earlier. Next time we go to see them, I’m going to make sure your fat ass destroys it!”

The summer was coming to an end, but not before the pair of them drove up in Hunter’s new car to yet another rental place for a weekend with the boys.

“I’ve got a surprise for everyone later,” Hunter joked, shirtless and with a strong arm draped over his flabby, newly 300lb boyfriend.”

“Another one?” the boys joked, having just spoken at length about their shock at seeing the swell of Tommy’s chest and underarm fat in particular.

Hunter kept them all waiting keenly. They ate their dinner, recharged and then settled down to some beers in the large lounge. “Want to see something super cute?” he finally asked them, grinning with excitement.

“Is this our surprise?” Jack immediately replied, ready to be entertained.

Hunter nodded. “Look at these!” he cooed, suddenly holding up a tiny pair of underwear he’d been hiding behind a cushion.

The boys laughed. “Awh!” they all sang back. In their world, no one wore underwear that small; even Hunter with his giant glutes and muscular thighs needed a large, or even an extra-large in many cases.

“These belonged to Tommy when he came over to my apartment for the first time,” Hunter laughed wickedly, spinning them around and holding them by the very ends of his fingertips as if to further emphasise how petite they were. “I’ve not even washed them since.”

At this, all the guys began laughing in much the same way. They passed them around, each of them marvelling at their tiny size.

“Your butt used to be so small!” Paul bellowed, draping the underwear over his large gut to show how minute they were in comparison.

Tommy stared at them, suddenly remembering how Hunter had walked off with his underwear on that first date at their now shared apartment. His perspective really had been skewed, hardly believing now that he ever wore clothes that small.

“That was only seventeen months ago, boys!” Hunter shouted, raising his arms up in the air for the admiration he was owed. “That’s how it’s done, my friends! That’s how a real feeder takes control and fattens his piggy!”

The boys all cheered in complete agreement. The transformation, the sheer speed of it all; it was breathtaking.

“He’d never get them on these days,” Eddie laughed. “Not with the amount of fat he carries on his thighs, and that huge butt of his.”

Hunter pretended to ponder the idea; theatrically raising his thumb to his chin and rubbing. “Hmm, do you really think so?” he asked, barely holding back his laughter. “I think we may need to test that hypothesis, don’t you, boys?” he called out, rousing the crowd of fat men into a chorus of cheers.

Within seconds, Hunter had stood up and moved clear so that the other men could move in and do his bidding. Tommy was being lifed and forced out of his current underwear, feeling delighted pats of approval from some of the guys as his big, fat, doughy glutes came on show. The coffee table had been removed from the room, the music turned way down, and he was pushed into the middle of a now cleared space, with all the large, occupied chairs and sofas imprisoning it.

Suddenly, the mood changed. Unlike the others, Hunter was standing, blocking the only path out of the room; his giant arms folded intimidatingly across his immensely powerful, shirtless chest; an inpenetrable wall; a ringleader, ready to entertain.

Even before he started, Tommy could hear little hoots of laughter all around him. He looked up at Hunter’s stern expression and his hardness throbbed uncontrollably.

“As you all remember,” Hunter began, “a short while ago, I started dating a very handsome, a very athletic, and in fact, a very pretty-looking guy…”

His tone was so playful and full of mockery; making the other guys laugh; every single one of them. Then he reached out and took the tiny underwear from the person who had them. Although only a few feet away from him, Tommy looked up at his lover as if the giant man was standing high upon a towering pedestal. The way those cold eyes stared down at him aroused him more than anything else.

“The pride and joy of his parents…” Hunter sang, holding Tommy’s old underwear for them all to see again, “...college graduate, all round nice guy. He told me that he wanted to meet me. Practically begged me!”

Again, the other guys all laughed at that. Tommy’s first foolish mistake.

“He told me that I was the sexiest guy he had ever seen in his life,” Hunter smirked, emphasising the language and slipping a finger up into the crotch of the old unerwear, showing where Tommy’s little erection would have once pushed against them. That got him one of the biggest laughs. “And he promised me one thing…” Hunter went on. “...That he would do absolutely anything that I wanted him to.”

The guys all turned from looking at Hunter, to gazing with awe at Tommy’s fattened body: the rolls and blubber, stretch marks and sag. His complete submission was right there, before their very eyes. Hunter’s will, made flesh.

“What you’re about to see, boys, is my now disgustingly gluttonous, obese boyfriend, trying to put on a pair of underwear that he last wore the second time he met me,” Hunter declared, throwing the tiny material down at Tommy’s feet, filling his large chest with air and folding those enormous arms once more.

Again, the fat men all laughed to themselves, some reaching in again to poke Tommy’s fleshy stomach, or tap his naked, under-exercised butt.

“Taking them off was one of his first acts of submission to me. And now,” Hunter continued, “this greedy, fat hog is about to try and put them back on for us.” He stared hard at Tommy, making him hornier still.

Tommy nodded slowly, hardly believing that this was all happening so fast. Two minutes ago, he had been snuggled into Hunter on the couch, oblivious that any of this was coming.

“Are you ready, boys?” Hunter roared at them all; rousing another cheer of excitement. He was made for this. Showmanship was in his blood. “Count the fat fucker into it for me…” he shouted at an alarming volume.

Tommy glanced at the ridiculously small underwear; his heart beating at quite the pace. He could feel the huge ring of fat under his chin as he looked down and tried to envision how best to do it.

“Three…two… ONE!” the boys all sang with the boisterous Hunter; lifting their bottles of beer up high; eyes wide and excited to see how this would all go down.

With a slight grunt from all that he had eaten earlier, Tommy bent down to pick up the underwear. There were cheers of amusement as his butt crack opened to those standing behind him. Then, turning the underwear in his hands, he lifted one leg to begin to put them on. He stumbled, feeling the fat in his butt and love handles quiver with the force he had to throw his foot down, just to keep his balance.

“Take your time, Piggy. Get it right,” Hunter reminded him in his stern tone. This show was important. These were his friends, and he had brought Tommy here to entertain them.

Tommy nodded. He started again, slipping one foot into the tiny hole and raised the material to his ankles. Now came the trickier part. He grunted, raising his other leg and miraculously slipped that inside as well. The big moment had arrived.

Grabbing onto the tiny waistband, Tommy sucked in his stomach and heaved them up. They began soaring up his legs and then slowed dramatically. just above his knees. They were so narrow, he felt like he needed to spread his legs more to get them up; but there was no room. He pulled at them again, hearing howls of laughter all around him. The effort was almost unbelievable, and yet the underwear raised barely more than a couple of inches. Never mind his giant butt, it was his blubbery thighs that were the problem.

On he struggled, feeling the waistband at last touching the lower part of his doughy rear. He lifted the front part easier, just managing to squish a little of his excited erection inside and then he looked up at Hunter. Had he done enough?

Hunter simply raised an eyebrow and smirked, the guys’ laughter suddenly becoming too infectious for even him to ignore. His smile spread and he laughed too, throwing his arms out and then pumping his muscular chest. Some of the men reached their congratulatory hands out to the feeder for him to shake as he walked around the space where Tommy stood. His victory lap.

“Thank you. You’re right,” he replied to their comments. “Twenty five years old, and look at it now!”

Finally, he came to stand in front of Tommy again, suddenly becoming falsely affectionate and stroking his submissive’s large, chubby cheek. “I’m so glad I met you,” he told Tommy, speaking as much to the other men who were listening in.

“I’m glad I met you too,” Tommy replied, full of love and arousal for his dominant lover.

The men all laughed at Tommy’s words and Hunter looked around at them with devilment dancing in his eyes. His perfect white teeth glistened as the widest smile grew on his face. He knew exactly what they were all thinking. Obesity was beginning to take a vice-like grip on Tommy’s body, and yet the twenty-five year old was still hopelessly under the spell of his wicked boyfriend.

“Good. I’m very glad,” Hunter nodded, lovingly tucking Tommy’s overgrown, sweaty hair behind his ears. He could never resist stroking the extensive chin fat with the back of his finger at the same time; the broad, fat face, freshly shaven as Hunter always insisted upon. “You realise that you’re going to be fatter than everybody here soon, don’t you?” he continued, explaining it to the fat boy like it was an exciting adventure they were embarking upon.

Tommy nodded.

“And that’s okay is it, Piggy?” Hunter asked, playing up to the crowds.

“Yes,” Tommy nodded again. Compliance was so easy.; submission so arousing. And this situation he was in now, so exhilarating and undenyably thrilling. Everything he never knew he needed.

Delving further into the three hundred pound zone was every bit as strange and transformative as the guys had warned Tommy as he left that weekend. Everything jiggled. Everything made him sweat. He had to accept how severely overweight he was now. It was the first thing people noticed when they met him and it was the one factor that influenced how people treated him most. He noted their tones of disapproval and impatience; their blunt answers to his questions and their indignation whenever they saw the gorgeous Hunter kissing him. He stared at pictures of the two of them at his sister’s wedding: his large, bulbous, doughy belly spreading out of his jacket and barely contained within his enormous shirt. He looked at the beautiful Hunter standing behind him, grinning proudly; no one there realising that he was laughing at them all, showing off what he had done to one of their own.

“I think it’s time you considered a new job. One where you can work from home,” Hunter declared, getting up after having fucked one of his new favourite places on his lover’s evolving body: the fat roll encompassing Tommy’s deep belly button.

Tommy nodded. “That would certainly save me a lot of time,” he agreed.

“It would also save you a lot of calories,” Hunter sighed impatiently. “I get so frustrated thinking of you burning off all my delicious breakfasts, trotting that giant ass of your back and forth to the photocopier.”

“But the girls in my office would miss seeing you though,” Tommy joked.

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Another good reason to quit,” he grumbled, chugging down one of his protein shakes and drying off his sweaty body with the towel they left under the bed.

“They actually asked me to apply for a job at another one of our branches the other day,” Tommy considered, remembering how little he had considered it at the time. “Two days in the office, three at home.”

“Where?” Hunter asked with surprising interest.

“North. We’d have to move. At least we’d be closer to Paul, Eddie, and the other guys. But then, it means uprooting your life as well.”

Hunter furrowed his eyebrows in disagreement. “Look at me!” he cried. “I could get a job at any fitness place I wanted. A move away is exactly the sort of thing that we need.”

“It is?” Tommy asked, having never heard Hunter even consider the idea of moving before.

Hunter came over to Tommy, who was still sticky and sprawled out on the bed. The guy’s immense, muscular body made the bed sink slightly as Hunter sat next to him, making the fat in Tommy’s tummy jiggle and lean towards the powerful lover, as if attracted by him. “Listen. You’re now a very fat man. By this time next week, I’ll have you at over 350lbs,” Hunter explained. “But people around here don't see that. All they see is that skinny little dweeb they used to know. That handsome guy with a six pack and no ass, who couldn’t admit that being dominated would make him so fucking horny.”

Tommy chuckled. Hunter’s descriptions were blunt, but always very accurate.

“It’s time we went somewhere new. Where people don’t know about how slim you used to be. Where they will see you the way that I do: just another fat, disgustingly overfed piggy.”

Tommy exhaled deeply, feeling himself getting aroused hearing Hunter using so many of the trigger words that he usually deployed when he was getting pleasured. He nodded. Perhaps Hunter was right. Maybe it was time for a change.

“You make sure that you look after him, won’t you?” Tommy’s mother sobbed, speaking to Hunter as the pair of them stopped to pick up the last of their things and load them into the truck.

“Don’t worry, Angela. He’s in good hands with me,” Hunter smiled back. Now that Tommy had grown wide enough, the big muscular man could rub his boyfriend’s disgustingly overgrown glutes the entire time he spoke to the guy’s mother, without anyone even noticing. “Your boy will be well taken care of.”

They all hugged, with Tommy’s parents telling him how proud they were about his big promotion, as well as how much they would miss him.

“Do you think they know? Even on some level?” Hunter asked as the pair of them got back into the truck. “They have to, surely? No one is that fucking stupid, watching their son get into a relationship and suddenly gaining over two hundred pounds in just over two years!” he sniggered, surprised that no one had mentioned Tommy’s weight today; even with the daringly tight t-shirt he had made him wear.

“Perhaps, on some level,” Tommy considered. At barely average height, his 370lbs was sitting more and more on his stomach these days. Only a few moments ago, Hunter had needed to push against his wide, overgrown butt, in full view of his parents, in order to get him back into the high removal truck they had hired for the journey. “But, if I’m honest, I don’t think they really know what’s going on.”

“So fucking stupid! It’s unbelieveable!” Hunter sighed, turning the volume way up on the stereo and pulling off his shirt as the air conditioning blasted into life. As much as he enjoyed playing the innocent boyfriend, Hunter also longed for recognition, in whatever form it came.

“Goodbye,” Tommy waved to his parents as they started pulling away. He knew they couldn’t hear him. The music was far too loud.

“Goodbye,” Hunter joined in bitterly as he started to steer. “I’ll look after your son. I’m turning him into a big fat pig, y’know!” he shouted loud and clear, although he would never be heard. “I’ll have the fat fucker at 400lbs by the time you see him this Christmas! Goodbye, idiots!”

Hunter laughed with delight at himself as they rolled down the street. He slipped on his sunglasses and opened his window, just a crack, to let in a bit of fresh air.

“Still think this is the right thing?” Hunter asked moments later, reaching for Tommy’s chubby little fingers and holding them sweetly. His question was so ambiguous, with so many different possible meanings, and an infinite amount of responses. Not that any of that mattered to Tommy. For him, there was only one possible answer to any of those questions.

“Yes,” he smiled with certainty. “Two hundred percent, yes!”

#gainer fiction #gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gayfeedee #gainer stories #gainerfic #gainer fic

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k-hotchoisan · 2 months

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vanilla and cream

where you flip a switch in your pretty boyfriend, and now he has a breeding fetish he can never get out of his system no thanks to you.

Genres: smut, pwp, forced breeding, mild bondage, cream pies, breeding kink/fetish, overstimulation, unprotected sex, whiny and desperate Yeosang for the girlies out there, it's quite a lot of cum (but are we surprised)

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @hongjoongswifefr @yourlocaljonghoe itza-meee

🩷 stay perverted: the masterlist

Yeosang never considered himself to have much kinks or fetishes, at least, before he met you. But even when the relationship as partners turned more intimate, Yeosang never seemed to have much preference when it comes to sex.

But nothing could have prepared him for the effect just one night could have on him. Now he can’t seem to get enough, and he drives him fucking insane. The taste of it still lingers in his tongue as if it just happened the night before, and when he finally snaps out of it (barely), Yeosang has to make sure he’s not wearing pants that that especially pull taut against his crotch, or that would definitely become an issue.

The ironic thing was that it started on an ordinary night.

You are peppering kisses across his temples, his pretty little birthmark, before you go down to his neck and shoulders, listening to the soft hums of approval while his hands are warm on your sides.

“Could you let me try something, Yeo?” You ask, going back to facing him at eye level, your palm resting against his soft cheek.

“What is it?” Yeosang asks back, closing the distance with a kiss. The way he’s swiping and biting softly against your bottom lip, almost erasing whatever you wanted to tell him.

You giggle in between the kiss, teasing him back with your tongue in your mouth before you pull back, leaving Yeosang slightly breathless.

“Do you trust me?”

Yeosang nods, his fingers combing through your hair. “Of course baby.”

“Could you let me tie you up and fuck you?”

Yeosang blinks. He never really gave bondage much thought, and even if he did, he always thought you would be the one tied up.

After a second of silence from him, you shift around the bed, Yeosang following your gaze, watching you take white rope from the nightstand.

“I practiced” you assured him.

Yeosang cocks an eyebrow. “On someone else?”

You hit him playfully, earning a giggle from the male.

“Obviously not, dumbass”, you tease. “So do you want to try it? We can stop any time if it hurts?”

Yeosang ponders for a second. Deep inside, anticipation brews in him—the thought of you tying him up and fucking him on top. It’s not as if he doesn’t let you ride him, it’s just the addition of bondage had roused his interest. So he agrees to try it out.

Your soft, warm walls hug Yeosang, he swears he’s at the fucking gates of heaven. His muscles flex when he pulls against the ropes, groaning at the pleasure rapidly filling him up. His thoughts are swarming altogether, growing incoherent. He wonders if this strangely more euphoric because it’s something new introduced to the bedroom. He’s never complained about the current sex life the both of you have, he enjoys it, but something about this arrangement is getting a rouse out of him. Yeosang’s heart is pounding, and he hopes you can hear that it’s for you.

“Babe…” he trails off, still tugging against the restraints. You think the way he looks almost helpless is so endearing, especially when he has his cock sunk all the way into your cunt. And the thought of being completely helpless while you fucked him senseless? Yeosang is indulging it in like it’s his favourite dessert.

“How does it feel, baby?” You ask, letting your hands run down from your shoulders, giving your nipples a little tug before your hands slide down your bare body and thighs. Yeosang swallows hard, another soft groan leaving his lips as the sounds of skin slapping slowly grows wetter and wetter. His moans turn into whines.

“So good. So tight, so warm. Fuck”, Yeosang curses, forcing his eyelids open, wanting to look at the way your cunt sinking down and swallowing his pathetic, twitching cock, as cream gradually coats his length.

Yeosang barely manages to calm down, trying to regain his breathing, his control, from just bursting in you. He doesn’t want to risk cumming in you, no matter how fucking good he thinks it’ll feel, because it’s the first time in a long while since then both of you fucked without protection. Yeosang bites his lips, taking deep breaths, his abdomen flexing once more, his arms pulling against the ropes again. You stare at him, watching Yeosang shift helplessly, his face contorting into pleasure from time to time when he feels you squeeze against him.

“B-babe… I don’t think—ah fuck—we should keep going”, he barely manages out. You see the beads of perspiration clinging against his temples and his cheeks.

“Why not?”, you tilt your head, your grinding slowing painfully down, Yeosang jerks slightly, he feels his throat grow dry when, especially the orgasm that was dangling before him completely gets snatched from him. Yeosang spits another curse.

“I’m not wearing protection,” Yeosang replies, his thighs now trembling from the tension. “It’s not safe.”

You plant a finger on your lip, scrunching your eyebrows, pouting at him slightly, your pussy still riding off his cock. It feels so fucking good that it’s starting to fucking hurt. “But don’t you want to cum, baby?”

Yeosang’s eyes are slowly growing more glazed out the more your hips slap against his. He wants to cum so fucking badly that he doesn’t even know how he’s still thinking of protection. But he still nods, and he’s rewarded with you picking up the pace and bouncing off his cock again, which he wonders if it’s a punishment to feel this fucking amazing.

“But still—“ Yeosang tries to counter, only to be shut up when you have him completely up to the hilt, dragging your cunt against his poor cock, sending him into another layer of pleasure, his hips unintentionally bucking up to yours.

“I’m so fucking full, Yeo,” you hum, leaning closer into him, your body pressing onto his, still bouncing off him. “You make me so fucking full. So fucking thick.”

A pained whimper escapes his lips. He doesn’t think he can last much longer.

You lean in, your hands cupping his pretty face. Yeosang has his eyes screwed shut, his long lashes resting against his skin, he’s biting his lips, sometimes letting go soft pants that come off as whimpers.

“You’re gonna cum in me like a good boy, okay? You know you want to”, you hum once more, before a soft moan leaves your lips when you feel him grow even more in your cunt, his cockhead pressing against your g-spot when your hips lower down once more to fit him fully once more.

Yeosang is able to lock his fucked out eyes with yours, looking at you with so much desire, so much adoration, before his eyes roll back, his jaw slacks, his abdomen completely flexed. He’s in so much bliss, the pleasure tingling—streaming like electricity across every single nerve that existed in his body as his cock squirts so much thick and warm cum right into your tight little hole. He couldn’t even tell you that he was about to cum before it happened. All he hears is your soft voice, coaxing him to empty it all in your pussy, with broken moans in between.

When Yeosang is barely recovered from his high, your fingers are under his chin, gently guiding his head to face you, still sat prettily on his spent cock.

“Good boy. Look at the pretty mess you’ve made”, you praise, leaning back, forcing him to watch you pull out of him. His cock is decorated in a pretty translucent, wet coat of cum, but what completely flips something in him is when your fingers slide to your wet folds, barely pulling them open, and the thick, white cum trickles out of your hole. Yeosang is completely entranced and breathless. And he’s completely hard again.

“You filled me up so good, Yeo,” you smile, even though at the same time whimpering as another load seeps past your folds.

When you untie his restraints, Yeosang has your legs pushed into a mating press, his cock entering you once again, with much ease thanks to the extra lubricant of cum, before his mind completely blanks out, sanity and rationale somewhere else on earth, just not with him, while his hands pin your wrists above you, and he fucks you like a starved man before breeding another load into you.

Since that night, it was all Yeosang could think about. The bondage was definitely fun, the orgasm denial was heavenly, but nothing could top the way you made him breed you like that. Before he realises it, he’s addicted.

The condoms now were all forgotten at the bottom of the drawer. Yeosang thinks this completely ruined when using condoms, so he stops—the feeling of his bare cock being squeezed raw by your pussy gets him off so fucking fast now.

He would have you seated on his cock, riding him, creaming on him, squeezing him before he empties his load right into you, making sure you milk him dry of every single drop.

You were right. Your cunt was made to be his cum dumpster. And Yeosang can’t get enough.

It was to the point that he bought a full length mirror that faced the bed from an angle, and he would have you ride him, while he watches from the mirror the way his cock is swallowed full by your pussy, your moans accompanying his cock hitting in the deeper areas of your cunt. He would grab a handful of your ass, spreading your cheeks wider, watching the way he forces his cock to go deeper in you, and the fucking cries that come out of you? So fucking delicious.

If it wasn’t fucking you on cowgirl, he would have you face the mirror, legs spread wide open, his cock stuffing you full from the bottom in full view in the mirror.

Either way, he never misses the way his cum dribbles and drips out of your pussy hole, usually accompanied by your shaking thighs and breaths.

And then he would slide his cock right back in, making sure he breeds you full for the next two rounds.

His words in the bedroom turned more dirty too, reminding you that his cock will always have enough to fill you up over and over again until he is satisfied.

The extent? He even videos some of the fucking if he doesn’t have time to fuck and breed you on days and weeks when he’s unable to meet you.

The phone is pointed right at your pussy, propped on a tripod from an angle, so his phone camera is able to capture the scene in full. Your legs are wide open, your mind hazy from the euphoria.

“We’re not done yet, baby”, Yeosang reminds you, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing them lower. The camera catches your cunt in full view, before Yeosang’s cock comes into view, sliding right into you, immediately thrusting right into you, and it records your choked moans and the obscene sounds of the both you fucking like rabbits.

“Fuck, Yeo, you’re so deep,” you cry out, eyes rolling back when his cock hits your sensitive spot. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum so much on your cock”

Yeosang’s low voice only pushes you further, and he encourages you, “that’s it baby. Doesn’t that feel good too?” His thrusts are becoming ruts, desperate and feral, making sure you feel it all the way in your stomach before you completely let go, your walls convulse against his cock before he spills his load right into you once more. He pulls out, rubbing his cockhead on your folds without much friction, no thanks to the cream and cum.

Then he moves away, giving you a few seconds before cum starts to trickle out of you once more. His fingers come into view, rubbing both sides your folds before he pulls them open slightly so even more cum seeps out onto the soiled sheets beneath you. You’re so out of it, still recovering from your high before Yeosang dives in for another wet kiss.

Yeosang moves out of the frame once more, his hand reaching out to halt the recording, his mind buzzing with excitement to watch such a perverted video when he’s away from you. He tosses the phone onto the bed, giving soothing rubs on your thighs while his muscled arms are wrapped around you, kissing the back of your neck.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip affectionately while the both of you cuddle.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, your fingers dancing along his biceps.

“Thinking about how I should fuck and breed you in public too, make sure you keep my cum nicely in your pussy while we go on our date. And if you don’t, I’ll keep breeding you till you’re begging me to stop.”

You stare at him, speechless and you think to yourself-- what the fuck have you done?

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez x reader #ateez fic #kpop smut #ateez yeosang #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #yeosang ateez #yeosang imagines

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