Hey!!! I don't know if you would rather think about this scenario with Andy Barber/Ransom Drysdale/TJ Hammond or with Steve/Bucky/Natasha or something, but I've been thinking A LOT about these two posts on your blog: https://www.tumblr.com/mylevisdontfitanymore/716510995743490048/i-dont-know-if-this-is-weird-a-really-strange?source=share and https://www.tumblr.com/mylevisdontfitanymore/710911602870894592?source=share and I can't stop thinking about one of the trio going out and secretly getting one of them stuffed and drunk by putting more food on their plate when they aren't looking or distracting them while they refill their glasses with stronger and stronger alcohol and egging them into drinking or eating competitions and seeing just how far they can go with it until they are sloppy drunk and stuffed full and waddling and stumbling and their fellows get to enjoy the fruits of their labour
1st linked post
2nd linked post
Ooooh my god, if we're talking Andy/Ransom/TJ, then you ABSOLUTELY need to read the asks that Dumbling (@achubbydumpling) has done!
Andy Barber/Ransome Drysdale/TJ Hammond (chubby Andy)
Andy Barber/Ransome Drysdale/TJ Hammond (Andy beer bloat)
Food-drunk dad bod Andy and his accent
The premise of this idea, though… with multiple people getting one person stuffed and/or drunk without their knowledge… it would definitely happen with Andy and Ransom corrupting sweet TJ 🥴 It has to. Like, TJ-baby is just so overwhelmed to have the attention of two very, very attractive, very big men that he doesn’t notice how his plate and glass are never empty whenever they’re around 🫣🥵
Unbeta'd Andy/Ransom/TJ belly kink under the cut... warning for alcohol consumption, intox kink, dub-con elements (because TJ ends up drunk), stuffing, etc.
TJ’s used to going to big, lavish parties - his parents drag him to them all the time - but when he’s at those parties, he’s not allowed to talk to men in any sort of… suspicious… manner. He has to be on his best behavior. Smiling and laughing appropriately while he blows smoke up whoever’s political ass for his Dad’s sake.
Here, at this party with people just slightly over his age - rather than people decades his senior, grey and wrinkly in creased suits, talking about the “current” state of things that they’ve been disconnected from for years - it doesn’t matter if there are men looking at him obviously. Hotly. It doesn’t matter if there are men grabbing his arms or leaning in close to whisper in his ear, making him giggle and blush, hiding his flushed cheeks with his hands. It doesn’t matter if there are men shoulder to shoulder with him, pressing into him, blocking him in like bookends or bodyguards in the best way.
Here, nothing matters other than letting these two slightly older, definitely bigger men flirt with him. The two men (one of them strikingly shaven with pale skin and high cheekbones, the other bearded with darker hair) sometimes seem like they’re fighting over him. Fighting to woo him. It’s funny and disarming, too. Yet, sometimes, they seem to work together perfectly. TJ can’t figure it out. It’s making his head spin. The attention. Their specific attention.
He doesn’t feel like he needs to worry, though, even if he can’t figure out what they’re doing (or who they are). He feels… if he’s honest, he feels high. He doesn’t feel high, like, an empty and hollow high. An escape he needs an escape from. The norm for him. Instead, he feels hazy and warm and good with these two men. High.
Does he even remember their names? The men?
Does that matter?
TJ just wants to keep their attention on him. It feels good, after all. Does he need their names to do that? They seem to be interested in him regardless of if he’s talking or not. He’s not talking much, they’re talking - they’re whispering in his ears, skimming their large, warm hands over his sides and down his back, one of them (or maybe both?) keeps grabbing his ass, and they keep handing him party favors.
Really, it feels so good to be surrounded and flirted with that… TJ just takes everything the men hand him, docile as a kitten.
Everything Andy and Ransom hand him.
TJ swears it all tastes better than normal. (Is he high? Is that why it tastes so good? Is that why his mouth is watering so much?) Plates of finger food from the spread in the shiny, expansive kitchen. Appetizers that are passed around by waitstaff on trays. Handfuls of set-out chocolate and nuts from small, fancy dishes on end tables. Little bites of things that wouldn’t fill TJ up so much if there weren’t unending waves of them from both of the men. Then, all these half-full flukes of alcohol don’t taste like alcohol. They’re bubbly and sweet and would get anyone drunk easily, even if they were paying attention. TJ isn’t paying any attention. Every time he finishes his drink or his portion of easy, yummy snack food it’s promptly taken and replaced before he even realizes it.
It’s magical.
TJ has always had puppy fat. He’s got a baby face and a soft layer over his belly - he’s never been able to get abs, no matter how much his drug habits repress his appetite - but no one would be able to tell right now. Any of that extra softness that he carries all the time has been completely stretched out, overridden by the bulge of his stuffed belly. Carbonated alcohol. Finger foods. Appetizers. Alcohol. Pieces of chocolate. Alcohol. Rich dessert. More dessert. Another appetizer. Even more carbonated alcohol. A handful of nuts fed to him by Andy’s big, gentle yet demanding hands. A whole fluke of champagne poured down his throat by Ransom. They make TJ dizzy and weak at the knees even though they’ve pressed TJ against a wall. The party buzzes around them. TJ sways in place - they’re not going to let him go anywhere, though, so he doesn’t worry about his inability to stand on his own.
It’s easy to see why TJ isn’t soft now... but he feels soft, all over. High. Spacey. Soft.
Oof.
It’s hard to breathe.
He’s got a fucking pot belly after all the snacks and drinks. Indulgence is being used to pacify him. He’s easy and sweet by nature, but now… God. The men don’t even need spoons to eat him up. He’s melting. They’re going to lick him up no problem.
TJ looks so round. His stomach is bloated, completely taut. Like a drum. His poor belly button is stretched, made wider, and more shallow than normal. His skin aches, thudding in time with his heart. He’s blushing red - his face from being so overtly, aggressively chased by two of the most attractive men he’s ever seen in real life, but his belly, too. Under his clothes, where their hands keep sneaking, his skin is turning red from the stretch, from the rush of blood, his body trying to both get aroused through the slurry of alcohol slowing him down and through the mountain of food inside him, working so hard to try and figure out what to do with the excess.
Yet… TJ doesn’t notice.
His nice shirt is creaking at the seams, the buttons this close to bursting open, it’s never had to deal with excess like this, but he can’t hear it over the smooth rumble of Ransom’s voice and the rough gravel of Andy’s. One of them grabs his hip and TJ whimpers, melting like butter in their hands, his mouth naturally falling open so they can shove whatever they want into it. TJ just wants to be full. He's desperate.
Another mouthful and TJ moans out loud, drunker than shit on everything. Alcohol, of course, but attention and food, too. He doesn’t know what way is up or down, and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care when the men’s hands are all over him again, purring at him, sweetly praising him for having more and for liking it. TJ doesn’t even question if he actually likes it or not. He does. He likes it so much. He’s aching, throbbing, and stretched to his limit, his belly bulging out in front of him as though he’s swallowed a fucking watermelon whole, and he’s so heavy. He feels slow and hot and good. He feels like he wants them to keep touching him. He feels hungry. Hungry for them to do more than teasingly touch, caress, and feed him. Hungry for food.
“More?” TJ just barely manages to moan between gulps of alcohol, the flow dictated by Ransom, tipping not a fluke this time, but a whole fucking bottle back into his mouth.
Where did he even find such a big bottle of liquor?
Andy’s hands are against his belly, roughly shaping and caressing the ball-like shape of him. Andy chuckles, “more?”
TJ shivers but nods anyway, feeling some of the alcohol he’s chugging drip down his chin and dribble onto his chest, staining his shirt.
Andy growls, grabbing and shaking his belly until TJ starts to slide down the wall, being groped in such a way leaves tight, aching pleasure coursing through him. It leaves him unable to hold himself up, dragged down by the weight of what they’ve done to him. They don’t bother to hold him up this time. This time, TJ slouches all the way to the floor. They stop feeding him alcohol. And with his head thrown back against the wall, squinting up at them, TJ pouts at them. His belly is in his lap, straining, and he misses them already. He’s heavy, but he wants them all over him, heavier. He’s full, but he has the sudden urge to give in and give in and give in until he bursts. Bursts out of his shirt, the buttons and seams popping open, and bursts, coming by their hands or untouched, he doesn’t care.
“Mooore,” TJ verifies, moaning, uncaring who at the party hears him, gluttonous and dumb.
The men exchange a glance, Ransom licking his lips as Andy bites his own. Then, at once, synchronized, they lean down to grab him and pull him up by the wrists. They don’t care enough to brace TJ or his belly before they move him, so, his gut sloshes and wobbles with the sudden movement, exemplifying his fucking waddle.
TJ stumbles out of the party, held up only by these two big men. One of them whispers in his ear, and the other bites marks into his neck as TJ's head lulls back, totally out of it. Conversely, TJ's belly protrudes in front of him.
Round.
Full.
TJ doesn’t ask where they’re taking him. He doesn’t care. Anywhere. He just wants more.
20-something 500lb NEET Bucky who spends his days gaming. A real brat, parents kinda scared of him — and Steve’s the guy they hire to sort him out.
Steve can say one word and Bucky’s Brian melts and he’ll do what he’s told, behave — he’ll clean, he’ll not answer back, he’ll actually do something that isn’t gaming. He’ll even eat his way through 10k calories of cake that Steve had made for him while his parents are away for the weekend?
Oooooh, you know what this reminds me of?
This is very much reminiscent of Dumpling's (@achubbydumpling) Fat Camp series!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Also including:
Fat Camp Bucky over lockdown
Fat Camp Bucky is too big for his bath
I am in love with that Bucky and Steve! Like, I am actively slobbering over them, biting them and shaking them around in my mouth while growling so... enjoy reading while I slide down in my seat, thinking about such a bratty, big boy... 🥵😳
can I have all those fat merman Steve thoughts? 👉👈🥺
I love him and your writing and this AU is so good it needs to be shared!!
❤YOU SURE FUCKING CAN ❤
Warnings for VERY self indulgent content below the read more cut including: unbeta'd, extreme weight gain, belly kink, immobility, merman × light-house-keeper stucky AU, some kind of plot (spooky and also incredibly rare here), etc.
Backstory for everyone but us two lunatics 🤣:
This AU idea sparked from a conversation between Dumpling and I about belly kink awakening content from our childhood's. I opened the conversation with the book The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle and then later re-disovered another picture book I read that Made Me Feel Things lmao
That second book was about these mermaids, little girls, who decided to not listen to their father and go talk to humans. Their Dad warned them that, hey, humans are bad and will trick you. Don't. But they didn't listen! And the two mergirls make friends with two human girls on the shore. These human girls then introduce the mergirls to human food (among other things) and they hang out everyday for a few days, swimming home in time to not get in trouble every time except-! Eventually, the human girls bring tons and tons of different food to give the mergirls rather than splitting half of their picnic lunch with them as they had before. And the mergirls eat all, all of the food. Eating and stuffing their faces until they're so heavy that they can't swim home. And they have to sleep on the shore for the night, returning in the morning to their ocean kingdom. The mergirls are then "punished" for endangering themselves with the humans as well as for their gluttony.
I never knew why I liked it so much as a child, reading and rereading, until I suddenly remembered it and connected my love of it to, well... the content on this entire blog 🤣🤣
But yes yes yes, personal backstory aside, now time for the AU backstory:
Bucky is the lighthouse keeper.
He lives alone on his little island with supplies and a few animals, mostly a bunch of birds he feeds, the flock depends on the season. Also though, he has a cat, Alpine. She hunts mice occasionally (when they become a problem) but otherwise she sticks to her fancy wet food. The little princess.
There's a boat or two dragged up from the dock at the rocky island shore to the land. He has to have some way to get back to the mainland.
And while the island is little compared to, like, fully established island nations, it is more than big enough for a lighthouse, garden, and plenty of open space.
Bucky loves his garden and grows all that he can- there's not a lot to do but cook and clean. He mostly cooks a lot before a trip back to the mainland when he drops all his treats off with friends and family.
Picture this Bucky:
(Personally I'm thinking modern-ish era but... eh, either way, 1940s or 21st century, choose your own adventure)
And STEVE
Merman Steve!
This Steve is pre-serum looking, very thin, petite, his ribs sticking out everytime he breathes in deep, underwater or on land. He's the "runt" of the pod of merpeople he's apart of and on top of that, this winter has been hard... its been Extra difficult to find food.
But, Steve,, Steve's eyes are hypnotizingly blue. As are his scales, his tail so so blue, the webs between his fingers blue tinted, scales at his elbows, the edges of his fan shaped ears, etc. His skin is so pale that it's nearly see-through. He probably, definitely has freckles... when you look close enough at least. Otherwise he's too pale for anyone to notice them. And Steve's hair is so, so blond. Underwater it looks platinum blond with the sunlight and water reflecting but above water it's wheat-golden, the longer hair at the top of his head juuust long enough to fall into his eyes.
Enough backstory! Onto the story-story!
Steve is no match for the late winter storm that centers over that patch of ocean one night. He gets bashed up against the rocks at the shore of Bucky's island. Getting bruises and thankfully only minor cuts. Mostly he's just confused as to where the fuck he is, currents pulling him this way and that. When Steve finds a smooth wooden surface to cling to instead of rocks... he stays put.
That surface is Bucky's modest dock.
And that same winter storm night Bucky feels his house tremble and shake around him. The lighthouse attached to his home is fine but... he feels as if he'll blow away in the wind! Alpine spends the night weaving nervously in and out of his legs as he walks around his home, heating up soup for dinner, taking a shower while listening to the rain batter the sides of his home and the howling of the wind beyond.
In the morning, the storm clears.
Bucky goes about the island ensuring everything is in one piece and investigating what might've been blown ashore in the night.
He finds Steve.
And...
Maybe it's the cabin fever talking; a result of being alone for so long on the island but... coming along just in time to watch this shaking, trembling creature (beautiful creature) crawl up onto his dock, battered and bruised, thin enough that Bucky might be able to snap him with his bare hands, Bucky feels the urgent need to help him.
Bucky has never seen a mermaid before.
Steve has never seen a human before.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asks.
Steve... Steve pauses and for a moment Bucky is pretty sure that he doesn't speak English but then- "I... I dont know."
"Can I help?"
Steve nods.
Bucky helps by telling Steve to stay there while he runs home to fill his bathtub with sea water since when he asks if salt or fresh water matters, Steve cocks his head and says he doesn't know what fresh water is. Isn't all water fresh? Bucky runs back and forth from the shore to his house, dumping buckets of sea water into his tub. Then-
Bucky gets a wheelbarrow, originally for his gardening needs, and easily lifts Steve up into it, rolling him home.
"What's your name?" Bucky asks, rolling him over the grassy meadow back to the lighthouse.
"Steve."
"Steve, hi, my name is Bucky."
"Bucky? Is that a common human name?"
"Not particularly, it's a... a modification of my middle name."
"Your middle name? You have a beginning and ending name too?"
"Yeah, kind of, I have a first and last name too. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky comes from the middle name, Buchanan. Buchanan is waaaay more common then Bucky."
"I'm just Steve."
"Well, okay, I like the name Steve."
Then-
At home, with Steve now resting in his sea water filled bathtub, Bucky cleans up the worst of his cuts and bruises with antiseptic after using some soap to scrub off the mud and seaweed- "are you sure this is helping?!" Steve asks, whining,"it hurts!"
"I promise it helps."
Steve might complain about the ache of cleaning his wounds but he does the exact opposite when Bucky feeds him afterwards...
Tail splashing water as he flicks it every now and again, first Bucky has him try some leftover but reheated cooked fish with lemon and garlic butter. Steve wolfs it down so fast and so eagerly (three whole big fillets!) that seconds have to be in order afterwards! Bucky cooks too much for himself anyway and just looking at how thin Steve is, Bucky wouldn't mind cooking more just for him. He can have more than three fillets. Seconds are a few homemade scones slathered in jam. Thirds are plenty of strips of smoked ocean salmon. Fourths are more scones on account of Steve's request.
But by the time he's done eating everything Bucky gives him, barely taking enough time to mutter a thank you before tearing into whatever it is, the meal (or meals rather) are visible on Steve.
Visible in how his stomach pushes out from his ribs harshly. Unnaturally almost- so large and round that Bucky thinks about asking if merpeople have stretchy stomachs before he reels himself back in. That's a rude think to ask. In human culture but also probably merperson culture.
Either way, Bucky keeps looking, hiding in plain sight of just being a curious human. His belly... it's so stretched. Pink and taut.
Steve stretches out, sloshing some water over the side onto the floor, and moans. "God, if I could eat like this all the time, I would! And I'd never swim again..." he chuckles, "I'd sink like this I think," he slaps a hand over his stomach, forcing a burp out of himself.
Bucky laughs to cover his own moan but can't help continuing to stare at how Steve's webbed hands rub his swollen stomach. And without another actual thought, beyond ohohohohoh Bucky adds, "i-if you can't swim tonight, that's okay. You can stay here. If. Uh. If you want to. I'm not- not trapping you here. You are free to leave but if you want to-"
"Oh, yes, thank you-" Steve murmurs, still rubbing his own impressively large stomach, eyelids drooping as he turns his head to look at Bucky.
Bucky stares back and puts his foot in his mouth again, asking, "do you want help?"
Fuck. Oops.
"With what?"
"That-" he chokes out after a moment of stuttering, eyes flicking to his tortured, bloated stomach.
"Uh, I guess, how'd you be helpi-?"
"Like this," Bucky interjects to lay his hands on his skin, fever hot and thin, stretched over the rock-hard mass of food inside him.
Steve moans. He struggles to lift his hips up into the touch too.
Bucky has never felt more- more electric. Since the moment he first spoke to Steve he knew he was special and he liked him but touching him... fuck. Bucky is pretty sure he's in love with him. He's beautiful and smart and-
Full.
(Bucky later jokes to Steve that if he had known better and been more guarded he might've thrown Steve out with accusations of him being a siren, not a normal merman. Or maybe he wouldn't've... he might've been too hypnotized.)
But... it goes on like that, Steve lives in Bucky's bathtub, eating as much as Bucky will feed him. Probably even more than Bucky would've give him, if not for his asking for more. But sometimes Steve gets into a fit of feeling like he's too reliant on Bucky for everything or whatever and will ask to be put back into the wheelbarrow and taken back to the ocean. They say goodbye but he never really leaves. He stretches his fins in the ocean for a while. Staying low enough that Bucky can't see him from the shore or lighthouse but never returning to the ocean depths. Eventually, sheepishly, Steve turns up back on Bucky's dock.
They don't make comments on how or why he's back. Bucky is simply happy to have him back.
Steve gains weight.
It usually doesn't hit Bucky, how Steve is changing, until he takes him from the shore back to his home with him after his adventure alone. He stops looking for the signs of his changing body when he's always in the tub, day after day...
He really does change though. First, he gains enough weight that Bucky can no longer spot and count each of his ribs but instead looks healthy. Then he looks a little husky... some of the weight goes to his muscles, sure, but calories seem to favor becoming fat when in his body. Then he's chubby. His stomach rounds out first, a little pot belly that grows larger until its a gut, but subtlety, all the while, his hips and tail catch up to his gut by filling out wider and wider with blubber. His pecs fill out too. Little chubby tits that match his swollen tummy and his thick tail. He gains weight until he looks so soft that Bucky kind of wants to either grab him and sink his fingers into his blubber or he wants to bite him. To feel how soft he is.
He gains and gains, stuffing himself with human food and hardly swimming. Just sitting and plumping up in Bucky's tub. Waited on hand and foot (tail?), stuffed with more food than he could ever hope to catch.
And Steve. Well, Steve just eats and responds to Bucky's prompts or questions or general conversation between bites. Bucky leans against the bathroom wall or the side of the tub and talks between his trips to the kitchen. He never gets tired of feeding Steve or talking to him.
Somewhere along the way, they also become Bucky and Steve. Getting together. Bucky doesn't really know when or how that happens. He's very glad it does though...
Once, when Steve genuinely wants to stretch his fins and isn't pretending to go back into the wild, Bucky struggles to lift him up. He's truly fat now. He forgets how fat he's gotten. It seems like that stick-thin, angular merman is so far away. Besides, Steve looks much more like himself fat. Its hard to describe but fat Steve looks more like Steve than a half-starved, haunted merman.
Steve gets into the wheelbarrow with Bucky's assistance, he swims for a hour or so (only an hour?? he felt like it was so much longer... has swimming always been that exhausting?!), then returns to the tub and, oh-
He doesn't fit very well in the bathtub anymore.
Fat belly. Fat tail. Fat tits. Fat arms. Fat. Fat. Fat. Steve is fat. Too fat for Bucky's bathtub, evident by the tight feeling of his big body pressed against the cold porcelain. Too fat to swim away from sharks or predators but also too fat too catch fish in the ocean. He's no longer slim, no longer slipping quickly through the water. He lumbers now, especially on land. Clumsy and fat.
😳😳
Both Steve and Bucky pause, staring at each other. Steve wedged in the tub. Bucky bent over him, looking down at the mountain of blubber he makes. His tummy especially.
Fuck.
It's been an entire year since they've known each other now, winter melting into spring, hinting at summer all over again, and Bucky promises that come spring and summer, he'll begin digging out an in-ground pool for Steve to live in. Something he can't outgrow.
"I'll have my own zoo then, huh? A live-in zoo with my pet whale. All to myself to spoil and play with, yeah?"
Steve squirms where he's wedged. His blush works down from his forehead to his soft chest. His nipples are hard. His belly has had time to digest from his swim and he aches to have Bucky stuff him full again. He wants to be rock-hard under his layer of blubber. Bloated and stuffed so full that Bucky can press down with his fingers and feel it.
He wants to be fed so big that Bucky won't be able to pick him up. Outgrown the tub and wheelbarrow...
By the time the pool is dug and water is rushing into it, ground water and salt water and rain, near the end of summer Steve really can't fit himself in the tub. His fat sides squish out over the edge. His tail is about as wide as the tub and sticking his ass down into the tub, then moving, creates suction. So much so that he almost can't shift in the tub without help. His gut and incredibly intensely stretch mark-ed sides are always dry, sticking out of the top lip of the tub. He is huge. A whale. Not a little mermaid, slim and svelte as he was when he first showed up. Now he's covered in bubbler and stretch marks and fat and rolls and he has trouble swimming. He has trouble moving, with or without Bucky's help. When swimming, Steve can't really dive, his blubber makes him too buoyant. But he can float on his back, like an otter. Belly to the sky.
His belly is his biggest part of him. To the point that he looks SWOLLEN. Pumped full. Strained around the constant snacks and meals and desserts.
Everyday when Bucky finishes cooking breakfast, he greets his boyfriend by humming, "good morning, whale," and every time it makes Steve shudder inside, hot for it.
He might already be a whale but he's seen bigger whales. He wants to be bigger.
The move from tub to pool is extremely slow and strenuous. They have to stop twice to get Steve snacks before they're done. Bucky jokes that it's unfair that he's so hungry because it means that he's heavier for the rest of the journey to the pool 😤
Not that Bucky doesn't want him bigger or heavier, of course.
Steve loves his pool (other than the part where he has to swim more often but don't worry, he just starts eating more and he gets some muscles under all of that fat)!! He gets to feel the sunshine and breeze and he keeps getting all the same amount of food too. It's lovely. He's even happier. A little ball of lard. Endlessly round with roll after roll, stacked up around his dome of a gut. He's more fat than anything else, spending his days in the shallow end of the pool with Bucky feeding him until he literally can't eat another bite, moaning and surrendering.
Bucky climbs on top of him like that, Steve so fat that he's held down to the bottom of the pool, even in a few inches of water, heavy, and straddles his tail. Rutting his dick against his blubber-thick tail and burying his face in Steve's obscenely round belly (his arms have to be spread wide to reach the ground around his round gut). Stuffed, PACKED full of his love in food form.
Bucky gasps and moans and works himself into a frenzy on top of him. And all the while Steve simply enjoys, drunk on food and arousal, wet with burning hot desire but... again, he's food-drunk, body slugging through all the fat and grease and flavor, so he can wait while Bucky gets himself off.
Bucky could fuck Steve, his slit gets wet and would hold the shape of him sort of like a vagina but usually he can't wait. Bucky needs it now.
Bucky mouths at his soft fat over his hard, packed tight belly, and humps him. Splashing water all over. About to come and muttering, crazed, about how big his whale is. His prized whale... whining about how blubbery and huge his trophy whale is. Bigger than everyone else and yet he's still going to get bigger. A growing, greedy whale. Bucky keeps going, winding himself and Steve up by promising that he's going to go to the town on the mainland next time and buy everything he can, every type of food, and stuff all of it into him so he can make more blubber. Get bigger. His whale. He loves his big, fat, huge whale. Fat enough and full enough that he can't even swim. He can't move. All he can do is get bigger, fatter, larger. His whale.
Bucky comes, splattering messily over Steve's gut. The part of his whale he's made the largest. Steve moans because as crazed as Bucky is for this, Steve is more. He's the one who's put on so much weight that he's unrecognizable. He is the one still opening his mouth.
Alright- Crowley’s a complicated and uncomplicated one for me, all at the same time. It’s weird. He’s one of the first characters besides Dean and a few others that I really, properly fell in love with. At first it was just ‘oh a suave englishman, he’s hot’, but as I interacted more with the show and fandom and we learned more about him as a character, these feelings evolved. I started to see myself in him, started to develop headcanons and theories and everything else you can imagine, and his character arc just broke my heart because he, like many other recurring characters, was absolutely disrespected in late seasons. I completely agree with Mark S. on that. Anyways, in short, he’s,,, a little guy. I want to give him a smooch.
