Looking for a partner in or Utica New York. Not looking to pay looking to serve and play willing to be all bottom of vice versus. What ever works best for you. I’m here for you.
“I haven’t said ‘I love you’ in almost twelve hours.”
“What makes you say that now?”
“Just… thinking about how I want to say I love you.”
“I love you too.” Mark leaned in and kissed Strahm’s cheek. Strahm took his foot off the brake and looked into Hoffman’s eyes. “Pete?”
“Let’s get married.”
“Peter, are you crazy?” Hoffman laughed.
*Rating: +18 for Explicit Mature Content
*Tags/Content: Crack Treated Seriously, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Fluff, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Feeding, Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, PWP, Domestic, Slight Slob Elements
*Status: Chapter 2 of 2/Complete. Link to Chapter One Here.
Author's Note: You voted, you got it! A request for @markhoffmanluster. Wooweeanother chapter. This one is equally as horny as the first chapter. Let me know if you want the hoffstrahm wedding one day. Who knows I may write it. And a huge thank you to dixxiemaegraphics for feeding Hoffstrahm/Coffinshipping fans, literally couldn't have written this without motivation from your art. As always enjoy!
“Okay, you can turn around now.” Hoffman finished clasping the earring into his ear and fluffed up the ends of his wigs. He clasped his clutch purse in front of himself as Strahm turned to face him. “Say something, honey.” Rather than say anything, Strahm took a step towards Hoffman and pressed his lips onto his partner’s. The rouge matte lipstick slid across Strahm’s teeth as their kisses turned into something more passionate, staining the edges of Hoffman’s lip.
“You’re gorgeous…” Strahm pulled away and looked at him, his hands wrapped around the sleeves of Hoffman’s coat.
“Like the kind of woman you’d propose to?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Hoffman pulled him back in by the flaps of his collar and kissed him
“C’mon.” Strahm cleared his throat, pulling away from Hoffman. “We’re going to be late for our reservation.”
“Okay.” He let Strahm go and wiggled the engagement ring off his finger. He handed it back to Strahm and Strahm tucked it into the ring box, placing it in his pocket. He hooked his arms around one of Strahm’s as they walked to the car. Strahm opened the door for his bride and closed it before getting into the driver’s seat. Immediately, Hoffman’s hand rested on the inside of Strahm’s thigh. With his free hand he toggled the radio and hummed along to the love songs in a slight falsetto. He rested his head on Strahm’s shoulder and looked up at him like a ditsy woman head over heels in love with her man. Hoffman whispered something against Strahm’s neck while they waited at a stop light that he couldn’t make out. He was doing everything in his power to drone out the attempts from Hoffman to seduce him while he was operating a vehicle and Hoffman knew this which made his insistence that much hotter to the both of them. Strahm finally pulled the car up to the valet and got out of the car, walking around to get Hoffman out before handing the keys off to the driver.
“Pulling out all the stops for me.” Hoffman spoke in his falsetto, wrapping his hands around Strahm’s arm. He pressed his lips onto Strahm’s cheek for a quick peck as they approached the host about their reservation. She checked the notes in the reservation, hiding a smile behind the menus while escorting the couple to their table. Strahm pulled out the seat for his girlfriend as she crossed her legs and sat down. “Thank you dear.” Peter sat across from his lovely lady as she rested her head against her knuckles on the table. Hoffman picked up a menu and flipped through it, looking over at Strahm on the other side. “Honey, you’re so nervous. You’re not normally like this.”
“I know, I know.” Strahm replied rather absentmindedly. Hoffman pushed Strahm’s menu down before dropping the falsetto and telling him
“You’ve done it once agent, it should be easier this time.” Hoffman’s lips curled on the ends into a slight smirk. “Do you need some help?”
“Help?” Strahm asked. The front of Hoffman’s shoe pressed into his crotch slowly. Strahm cleared his throat as he adjusted himself under the table and reached for his water glass.
“Something the matter, hon?” Hoffman’s falsetto back in full effect as she batted her eyelashes at her partner.
“No.” He let out a weak cough
“Good.” She pulled her foot back towards her and kept browsing
“Fucking tease.” Strahm muttered under his breath, making Hoffman’s face light up from behind the menu. Strahm slid his hand halfway across the table cloth and Hoffman met him in the middle, putting her right hand on top of his left. He brought her hand up to his lips as they got interrupted by the waiter. She pulled her hand back as she ordered, playing with the edge of her coat before letting it fall off her shoulders. Strahm started staring at Hoffman’s collarbones, wishing his face could be buried in his neck while he held him. Hoffman brought a hand up to her mouth and quietly cleared her throat as the waiter asked Strahm what was it that he wanted to drink. Strahm ordered a bottle of champagne for the two of them and the waiter ran to grab the bottle, knowing he was intruding on their moment. He brought back the bottle for them and two flutes before pouring them each a glass. Immediately Hoffman brought it up to her lips and watched as Strahm watched her drink. She turned the flute into a shot glass and set it down on the table and leaned in towards Strahm.
“Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”
“You should know damn well by now how I feel.” Strahm grumbled. She reached her hands out across the table to take his. He met her in the middle of the table and watched as she ran her thumbs over the back of Strahm’s veiny hands. “I love you…”
“I love you too.” Hoffman answers in his natural voice before the waiter stops back at their table to get their food order. They got their order in and Hoffman ran his fingers through the strands of his wig. Strahm leaned across the table and pressed his lips onto Hoffman’s. He wrapped his arms around the back of Peter’s neck and bit on his lip softly.
“So enamored with me.” Hoffman smiled as Strahm shoved himself back into his seat. “I’m sure there’s eyes on us right now, Agent. Aren’t you embarrassed? That’s the kind of behavior for a hotel room.” Hoffman teased Strahm. He saw Strahm play with the waistband of his pants, his smirk only growing. “Should I move my chair next to you? Would that make you act more like a man in charge of his sexual urges?”
“Maybe.” He took a deep breath, trying to make his body sit still when everything in him was screaming to pull Hoffman into the bathroom and fuck him five ways to Sunday.
“You’re so fucking cute like this, honey.” Strahm watched the words slid off Hoffman’s plush lips letting out a growl from the back of his throat. After a quick glance to make sure that he wouldn’t be in the waitstaff’s way, Hoffman pulled his chair besides Strahm and rested his hand against the inside of Strahm’s thigh. “Whisper in my ear, tell me what you want to do to me.” Strahm leaned into Hoffman’s ear before telling the other man,
“I want to pick you up off your seat and throw you into a stall and fuck you until you couldn’t manage to say anything but my name.” His breath trailed down Hoffman’s neck
“And I get a proposal out of you tonight?” Hoffman stared at his partner’s lips, running the edge of his tongue over his own. The waiter brought their plates to them, Hoffman waved him off with a hand. Strahm grabbed his silverware and started cutting into Hoffman’s steak for him. Hoffman tucked his feet over one another under the chair and pursed his lips, waiting for the fork to make contact. Strahm put the knife in his right hand down on the table and gave Hoffman’s leg a squeeze under the table. While he fed his partner the meat, his hand ran over the smooth leggings Hoffman had on before touching the edge of the thigh garter the man was wearing. His hand trailed up further into the inside of Hoffman’s dress as he shoved the fork more forcefully towards the man. Hoffman ate the food with grace and a control that Strahm was losing by the minute as he kept feeding Mark.
“Honey, it’s not fair you haven’t had a bite of your meal.” He reached over Strahm’s arms and fed Strahm a piece off his plate. Strahm quickly swallowed it down before Hoffman pressed the tines of the fork against his lips. “Don’t just consume it, enjoy it. Tell me what it tastes like.”
“Fine.” Strahm let a breath escape against the metal, warming the tips of Hoffman’s fingers.
“That’s my good boy.” She purred, running her forefinger along Strahm’s jawline. Not one waiter seemed to want to do a table touch on the couple. That was fine for the both of them. They didn’t need anyone seeing the way they fawned over each other. Hoffman finished his meal first, Strahm had practically shoveled it into Hoffman’s greedy mouth. His stomach slightly peaked out from under his dress but it wasn’t enough for either of them. “I look like I could be about two months along.”
“Yeah, you do.” Strahm’s hand hovered over the distended gut and started massaging it slowly, “What else do you want?”
“Hm.” Hoffman thought for a moment, “Give me whatever it was you had. That looked so good.”
“Okay.” Strahm unhooked his hands from Hoffman’s body and called a waiter over. The waiter quickly took the order and ran back off to the kitchen.
“Thanks, hon.” She pulled on Strahm’s tie and kissed him on the lips. “You spoil me and the babies.”
“Just think about what dessert you want after that.” Strahm’s fingers sunk in slowly to the slightly taut skin and massaged the bump sitting on Hoffman’s lap. With his free hand, he slid the dessert menu into Hoffman’s reach, who took it without so much as a second thought.
“Let’s see… Oh they have opera cake.”
“Okay.” Strahm replied, “What else?”
“You know I’d never say no to something with more chocolate.” Her lips casually skirted the side of Strahm’s face, leaving only the slightest hint of her lipstick along his sideburns. She pressed her thumb into his cheek to smear the evidence of her lingering and maybe hide it. Though she didn’t do a very good job of it. She wanted everyone in that restaurant to know that he was hers. The waiter dropped the plate off in front of the couple and nearly ran off before Strahm put in a dessert order. He ran off to the kitchen as Strahm slid to the edge of his seat and pushed it away. Hoffman dropped her fork on the plate, pretending to be shocked as he got down on one knee. “Honey?”
“I love you…” Strahm started, realizing that after his impromptu proposal in the car the other day he’d lost the script he had in his head. He took a deep breath before continuing his proposal. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side… There’s no one else in this world that makes me feel what I feel for you.” Hoffman rolled his eyes at Strahm “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” She hopped up from her seat as the tables around them quietly cheered. He wrapped his arms around his fiance and kissed her before slipping the ring onto her finger. They sat back down and the waiter brought them their desserts, putting one plate in front of one person. Strahm pushed his plate towards Hoffman before the waiter could come back with their bill. He took the bill when it was presented and handed it back with his credit card in, not daring to look at the total until he needed to see how much to tip. Hoffman took his chin in between his forefinger and thumb and directed his gaze onto him as he ate the dessert. His eyes widened as felt a tug in the back of his dress that turned into a subtle rip. Peter ran his hand along Hoffman’s back and found the hole that was starting to grow as Hoffman took breathes in between bites of his dessert. The dress was form-fitting, but neither of them realized how much give the fabric lacked. Strahm carefully wrapped Hoffman’s jacket around his shoulders, hoping the zipper didn’t give out until they could get to his car. Hoffman got up from his seat carefully before slipping his hand into the coat pocket of Strahm’s where the valet ticket lied. He whispered into Strahm’s ear, “I’ll meet you by the car.” Strahm ended up watching her walk across the restaurant, cradling her stomach like she was actually pregnant. He met Hoffman outside and wrapped his arms around his stomach, sinking into the swollen gut. Hoffman let out a noise that made him cover his mouth using his wristlet to the shock of both men. When the valet driver pulled their car up, Strahm held the door open for his ‘new’ fiance and let her slide in before walking over to the driver’s side and getting into his car. Hoffman ran his thumb over the band, feeling as though he had been missing something while they had dinner together. He rested his hand against the gear stick and let Strahm’s fingers interlace with his. The lights of the city rolled over the dark car’s roof before Hoffman looked over at Strahm and said in a low voice,
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Strahm tried to hide his smile to himself, but it didn’t work. Hoffman’s lips were on the edge of Strahm’s within seconds as his dork of a fiance was trying to stifle his smile.
“What’s the matter?”
“Huh?”
“Normally, you’d get halfway across the bridge back into Jersey and need to jump me, but we’re almost home already.”
“Who said I didn’t want to jump you?” Strahm looked over at him when they were at a stoplight.
“Give me something now… So I know I’m not just your public fuck toy.”
“Okay.” Strahm slid the car into the nearest parking lot and turned the car off. He reached over the console and put a hand just below the growing bulge in Hoffman’s dress. His lips reached out and made contact with the foundation laden cheek before trailing his lips along his partner’s cheekbones. He rested against Hoffman’s temple, leaving a quick peck before whispering in his ear. “That enough fro you?”
“For now.” Hoffman turned and nuzzled into the side of Strahm’s face before the driver pulled away. They pulled into the driveway of their home and got to the front door when Strahm’s arms wrapped around the space between Hoffman’s growing tits and his already bulky belly. He rested his head on his partner’s shoulder while the tumbler in the lock flipped. Hoffman pulled him by the collar of his shirt into their house before spinning around on his heels to give him a proper kiss. His hand glided over Strahm’s chest as they kissed before Strahm shoved him carefully onto the couch. “Got something in mind?”
“Wait here.” Strahm leaned over Hoffman as he said it before backing off and heading to the kitchen. Hoffman crossed his leg over his lap as he waited, tapping his nails onto the side table. Strahm brought a cake out and put it on the floor in front of Hoffman. Hoffman reached down for the cake only to have Strahm swat his hands away. Hoffman raised an eyebrow at the agent before he pulled on the front of Hoffman’s dress and dropped him onto his knees. “Eat it. Since you want to be such a pig in public.”
“Fine.” Hoffman smirked, pushing his hair back behind his shoulders as he leaned forward and dove face first into the cake. Strahm got down besides him. Hoffman heard the snap of an elastic band around Strahm’s wrist before feeling the wig being pulled back into a rather amateur ponytail. If this was Strahm’s plan all along, he could’ve just asked Hoffman to tie his hair up. God knows how many times he did Angie’s hair for her. Still, that wouldn’t be nearly as gratifying as the way Strahm’s hands slid underneath Hoffman while he grazed at the pastry in front of his face. “Can’t keep them off me, huh?”
“Shut up and eat.” Strahm’s lips brushed against the back of Hoffman’s ear before pressing a kiss onto his skin. Hoffman arched his back slightly as he shivered from Strahm’s touch. He continued to shovel cake into his mouth, getting the sloppy mixture of excessive frosting and pastry onto his dress. Strahm’s hands dug into his stomach that dangled in front of him.
“I mean what kind of pervert would let a man like you touch him like this?” Hoffman smirked, “Shit you might even be more nasty than I am.”
“Says the bitch who looks pregnant.” Strahm bit back, sliding his hands back to Hoffman’s ass before giving his ass a firm squeeze.
“Treating me like a fucking princess.” Hoffman let a moan slip from his mouth as he finished the dessert in all its decadent glory. Strahm hiked the edge of the dress up well past the curve of Hoffman’s ass and pulled himself out of his pants. He slowly played with the edge of Hoffman’s panties before pulling them down to his knees and shoving himself into his fiance. He wrapped his hands around the front of Hoffman’s legs as he thrust into him. “Fuck Peter…” Strahm made a short acknowledging grunt as he kept chasing his climax. “God you’re fucking going at me like a bitch in heat, Pete.”
“And you’re begging for it like you want to carry my children.” Strahm’s teeth dug into the back of Hoffman’s neck as he quickly moved his hand onto Hoffman’s dick. “Cum for me…” He tried his best to keep his pumps consistent with the rhythm of his thrusts but lost it when Mark’s moans filled his head with just enough to drive him over the edge. Hoffman adjusted himself slightly and wrapped his fingers over the back of Strahm’s hand and moved the appendage up and down himself for Peter. He came into the other man’s hand before taking it and licking his cum off it, making sure to run his tongue along the edge of Peter’s middle finger. “Fuck…” Strahm pulled out of Hoffman and laid down on the floor next to him. Hoffman adjusted the bottom of his dress so that he was slightly decent again before plopping down on top of Strahm’s chest. “Come the fuck on, you’re getting cake all over me.”
“Oops.” Hoffman smirked, rubbing himself up against Strahm’s dress shirt. Strahm kissed the crown of his head before taking the wig off of Hoffman’s head and running his fingers through Mark’s hair. “I love you…”
“Love you too.” Strahm whispered quietly to Hoffman
“You know.” Hoffman’s finger swirled across Strahm’s chest. “You didn’t answer me the other day.”
“About?”
“About whether or not you wanted me in a wedding dress.” Hoffman smirked
“I…” Strahm started to stammer
“Easy.” He rested his fingertips against Strahm’s lips, effectively silencing him. Strahm in turn puckered his lips, kissing his partner’s finger. Hoffman took his finger off Strahm’s lips and kissed him back.
“Thought I told you I’d think about it.” Strahm returned Hoffman’s sass
“Hurry it up, I can’t stay engaged forever.” Hoffman’s lips moved across Strahm’s face before giving his cheek a quick peck. He ran his thumb over his jawline before looking into Strahm’s eyes and saying once more, “I love you.”
Rating: Mature
Pairing: HikaHaru
Contains: Bimbofication kink (sort of), Weight Gain, Chubby kink, Clothing Malfunction, Button Popping, Obesity, sub!Hikaru, dom!Haruhi, Bratting, mentions of Immobility/Mobility issues.
Summary: Hikaru loves being a dumb bimbo for his girlfriend. He also loves that he's eaten himself out of his tight little shorts, but he's not just going to admit he has.
It had taken so long.
Hikaru will admit that, since crossing the 500lb mark, he'd gotten extremely lazy. It was just so much work to get his bloated, heavy, blubbery body to do anything, and he just couldn't be asked.
He was just too obese and hot to be forced into taking the stairs, when most buildings had perfectly serviceable elevators - even if he did get some stunned looks from other people hoping to ride. He was too corpulent and cute to be made to walk more than a street or two, huffing and puffing all the way, when he could be sat on the couch, gaming and eating bag after bag of snacks, rubbing at his blubber with cheeto-dusted fingers as his tummy refused to be covered by his shirt.
His figure was one that demanded attention and pampering, swelling him up even bigger and breaking any "normal" scale beneath him. Not that he could see the screen anymore, not with all the fluffy paunch in the way. Still, Haruhi liked seeing it on occasion, and the cracks in the plastic during the last weigh in on that scale was just the cherry on top of the sundae...
... Fuck, he could go for a couple pints of ice cream about now, loaded with chocolate and cookie dough. Probably good timing, honestly. It wasn't that unusual anyway, lunch had been a good hour ago, and his hands were grabby for something more to stuff with.
Still, he was proud he actually managed to do it! And what was "it"?
"Oh my God, Hika, are you kidding me?" Haruhi huffed, lips quirked in mirth at the scene in front of her and cheeks red, "I can't believe they got passed your fat thighs."
"I don't know what you mean," He answered, doing his best to play the unaware little idiot, "These still totally fit."
The shorts really didn't.
Hikaru looked a sight. His immense thighs were fully out, showing off angry, red stretch marks which only displayed the speed at which he'd eaten himself to a quarter of a ton. They were hot pants, after all, but even so, the seams on the sides were pulled as taught as you could imagine, fraying open at the widest, plumpest roll of his hips and settling below a truly impressive muffin top.
The crowning glory, however, was the undone button and zip, which allowed his vast gut ample space to spread and droop over the denim. From the front, you could barely tell he was wearing anything at all, hidden by the soft heft. He had something of an apron belly, but honestly, when you reach a certain point of fat, gravity just makes it droop no matter what.
"Oh, really?" Haruhi challenged, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, babe. It's not like I've put on much weight, after all. Still sexy as ever," He teased.
Both of them knew that was a lie, not even the biggest idiot could be so blind that they didn't realise they were over 500lbs. Especially not when they couldn't even tie their shoes without their engorged tummy getting in the way. But, it was the idea that got them both off; a pretty little dummy too braindead to notice hundreds of pounds of fat piling on their frame.
"Well, then why are your shorts open, babe?" Haruhi asked with a toothy grin, "I don't think you can get them buttoned over all this belly."
She stepped forward, grabbing thick handfuls of his flab and shaking them. For a moment, they both just watched the ripples, the rolls bouncing, how the stretch marks around his belly button moved and stretched. Hikaru couldn't help but be so incredibly hard at his own body, the evidence of his laziness and gluttony. Haruhi felt the same and, if he knew his girlfriend (which he did), she was probably thinking about all the way she could get off on just his lard-filled stomach - never mind his fuckable tits, his waddle-causing thighs.
"That's just the style I'm going for," He excused, "I could close them if I wanted to, Haru."
Haruhi just gave him that condescending look that set every part of him ablaze. Like she wanted to take away everything that could make his poor little brain overwork itself. Like all she really needed him to do was sit, game, and get even fatter than he was now.
"Whatever, I just wanted to get a little snack, because it's been way too long since lunch and I'm hungry again," He explained, waddling over to the fridge.
"An hour is too long?" She laughed, but he could feel her heated gaze on his massively overfed ass.
He made sure to give her the best view of it possible as he bent at the waist, searching the freezer for the fully loaded ice cream he knew was in there. His belly hang hit his knees, but the denim cradled the swell so nicely, pushing it out a bit further than it'd naturally go. It'd been months since he was able to see his feet at all, even if he pushed down and squished at his lard, but to see it push out even farther was so incredibly attractive.
"Ugh, why is the bottom draw so far away," He lamented, spreading his legs apart wider in an effort to get a little closer to his prize. That was, actually, not for show - he wasn't lying about it being too long from lunch, and he really wanted his ice cream.
He wanted nothing more than to bloat up even further with sweet, thick cream. Put away so much and then still act like he had no idea why he was so big - like he didn't think he was big at all.
"Maybe because you're getting too fat to bend down, now?" Haruhi offered, "Oh, but you said you haven't gained weight. Right, fatass?"
Hikaru shuddered. He couldn't help it, he adored Haruhi allowing herself to bully him. It'd taken a lot of conversation, and now he was enjoying the fruits of it all. It didn't help that the shudder caused his rolls upon rolls to jiggle even more, aware so keenly of his girlfriends love of how much of a pig he was.
He'd be a prize one, after all. One that broke records. Haruhi's blue ribbon piggy that just got more and more lard filled each time he was seen in public.
"That's right!" He asserted, "But... Can you get this for me? It's way too much work to bend over so far."
Again, not really a lie. He was huffing and puffing, a bit out of breath, just from the mere task of getting himself more to eat. How fucking hot of him.
Haruhi did, with a cluck of her tongue that managed to be both sympathetic and degrading. He backed up a couple of steps to allow her access to the freezer, he was much too wide for her to simply reach around anymore.
"I wanted a couple of pints of that new ice cream we got," He informed, hands rubbing at his belly as it grumbled in anticipation, "The one with cookie dough and chocolate chips."
She did as she was asked, handing the cartons to him with a spoon. He weighed up the pros and cons of eating it on the sofa, but all that time spent waddling to the living room, when it could be used for stuffing his plump face even further, wasn't that appealing.
"Let me guess, the shirt was also a crop top when you bought it? And it's totally not stretched out so much you can't tell what the graphic is even meant to be?" Haruhi pushed a little further, watching intently as Hikaru loaded up his spoon and pushed it through his plush lips, cheeks puffing up even further with the food.
"It shrunk in the dryer," He lied, mouth full of food, tone as obstinate as a brat like him could be, "It's cute a little cropped."
A little was the understatement of the century. That shirt had refused to go over more than his tits for the past month, and now it was showing a little underboob. Fuck, he was getting so obese. A BMI of nearly 80 was no joke, outdated system or not.
Not to mention, he was still gaining. He wasn't going to stop, just because he had some clothing malfunctions and was now too fat for his gamer chair. That's what couches were for, even if theirs let out a dissatisfied groan whenever he sat on it.
Imagine if, one day, he was heavy enough to break the fucking couch. He was already turning into such a blob, might as well go all out. He could stay in bed all day, eating and eating, and Haruhi could use him as she pleased - not like he'd be able to even stand up at that point, pinned down by his own blubber.
He'd just eat and eat until he broke the bed.
Haruhi interrupted his gorging for a moment, barely half way through the first pint, which he was sure to immediately whine about. He was just so hungry, after all.
She didn't answer his whimpers, however, just tugged at the flaps of his shorts in an effort to close them.
"Come on, suck in," She instructed, "If these can close, and stay closed while you eat your "little snack", then I'll agree you're still as "thin" as ever."
Hikaru bit down a grin. Honestly, he didn't think they'd button now, let alone after bloating from the first of his between-meal binges, but hey. He was sure Haruhi was thinking of ways to make this even more interesting.
"Duh, I'm right about this," He assured, but sucked in as far as he physically could anyway.
He looked down as Haruhi tugged and tugged, watching the ripples in his softness, realising that, even sucking in as far as he could, he still had no hope of seeing his toes. His fat was so soft and mouldable, grown from sugar and overabundance, combined with no exercise.
She really was trying her hardest to get that little button in the hole. She grunted with the effort, lip between teeth, and Hikaru couldn't help but associate that with the last time they fucked - Haruhi ruthlessly pounding into him as he could only moan and cry around the gag in his mouth.
"You getting hard isn't going to give me more fabric to work with," She reminded him. Hikaru could only grin at that, admiring how valiantly she was trying, sucking in until the very hidden muscles of his abdomen were screaming for release.
He wasn't uncomfortably hard, but he was definitely getting very turned on at the spoils of his gluttony and indulgence.
With a lot of strength and, possibly, a miracle, Haruhi finally managed to wrestle the button into the hole. There was no hope of zipping the shorts up - tan, doughy fat quickly made sure of that by pulling the zipper teeth as far apart as physically possible.
Slowly, as carefully as he could, Hikaru breathed out.
The waistband was unbearably tight, cutting it almost like a corset, but his fat was eager to spread and expand to other places in hopes of escape. His upper belly was a veritable shelf, pushed up and proud, while his lower belly looked so massively plump. The words "muffin top" seemed too miniscule to apply, everything looking like sausage meat trying to escape its wrapper.
God, didn't he feel like a pig. A dumb, fucking sexy one at that.
"See," He huffed and puffed, feeling the immensely tight fabric almost groan, "Still fits... as good as... ever..."
"And you aren't out of breath from trying to get 2XL shorts to button over your gut?" Haruhi laughed, "You didn't even do the work, you just sucked in."
Hikaru defiantly took a bite of ice cream, determined to earn whatever Haruhi had in mind. It seemed that a small bite was all it was going to take, however.
The button burst off the shorts, Hikaru nearly moaning as he felt the surge of fat and its heaviness as it drooped over the useless flaps once more. He could still feel rippling jiggles, the movement of it all so sensual as the flavour of the sugar and cream glided along his tongue.
This was what he was meant to be, a pretty pig in lipstick and too small shorts, all for his feeder's viewing pleasure. All for Haruhi to fondle, bite and suck.
With her dark eyes burning into him, her lips quirked in a cruel and devious smile, he did what he always did when this aroused...
i'm going to be a really pretty boy for my owner before he slices me up and drains me of blood and empties out my organs and cooks up my flesh <3
[id: a moodboard consisting of the following: a plate of sliced, cooked meat with very visible juice; a red-tinted photo of a leather-gloved hand holding a knife as though to stab someone; an assortment of dark red cosmetics including lipsticks and eyeshadow; a silver folding knife with a finely-patterned handle; a person with breasts wearing a sleeveless black latex dress with straps connected by o-rings, reminiscent of a harness; sliced, cooked meat with herbs for garnish beside it. end id.]
Hi, I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of Erik with a dress. Do you know some fics with him like that? Thank you so much.
Surprising that there aren't way more fics with Erik in a dress given that spectacular deleted scene but here you go - I hope you enjoy:
Sequins and Fishnet Stockings by CaptainCupkirk
Erik finds out about the illusion Charles showed Angel in the strip club, and being the good boyfriend he is, he prepares a little surprise for Charles...
Kleider Machen Leute by Cylin (unfinished)
In which Charles has *definite* ideas about what is homosexual what is not. After all, he does enjoy women. Then comes Erik, who's known nothing but pain and revenge for most of his life. He knows he's powerful and his fantasies have always been of violence. He's a virgin with severe intimacy issues. He's in love with Charles. He would do anything. And Charles- Well, Erik is nothing like he expected.
But what Charles wants, he gets. Still, it is so much easier to convince himself if Erik could dress up as a woman...wear a dress.
Lace (The Erik Remix) by annejumps
Erik's not sure when or why he started getting interested in this. He's also not sure what Charles will think of it.
Anytime, Anyplace by soulfulmags
“So are you going to share, Charles? You can’t say I’ve never looked more beautiful and then not tell me.” Erik leans forward his chest presses into Charles until his back is against the door.
Charles smiles, quite frankly beams, with delight as he catches on. “Oh, darling I do apologize.” His breathing quickens when he asks with a dare in his eyes, “Do you want me to show you?”
Never Looked More Beautiful by SnailFarm
Charles could make lovemaking filthy and fucking holy, and it could never feel anything but right. Charles was a miracle.
Surprise bitch!!!!! I wanted to get some practice writing a dominant reader, and I'm just kind of feeling weird about my upcoming birthday. I had a tasty weed treat and wrote this. Enjoy~
Paring: Jean Pierre Polnareff x fem, soft-dom reader
Kinks: Crossdressing/Feminization
CW: 18+ only (minors & ageless blogs will be blocked), NSFW, explicate kink, soft-dom reader and a very shy Polnareff. Reader's gender is not mentioned, but they are described as feminine, and wearing lingerie.
AO3 Link
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You know he doesn’t want to be humiliated. No, it was the opposite for him. He wanted一 craved sweetness and pretty things.
With your fingers delicately massaging the leaking tip of his cock, you coaxed another languid moan out from between his sugary-glossed lips. The wet spot forming on his new silk panties grew, perfectly tacky and warm between your slowing trailing digits. Your un-busied other hand palms of his pectorals, barely obscured by lace一peeling down the bustier of the pastel pink lingerie to reveal his hardened nipple.
You leer down at the sight of it, like a sleazy man from a cheap porn video might do一and his cheeks seer under your gaze.
“So cute…”you can’t help but coo your praise out loud. You sweep your hand up in a motion like your holding his pec to weigh it, giving the smooth flesh a firm squeeze that makes his cock twitch under your fingers.
“They’re heavy,” more sweet teasing as you cup the other mound with purpose. The devious smile on your face grows wider as you pinch the sensitive pink nub between your fingers, rolling the soft skin until it protrudes more.
His signature hair fell to his shoulders, adding to the feminine contrast against his chiseled masculine bulk. His moans are choked, almost hushed一 tepid and high-pitched as though he’s terrified someone might hear him. You wish he would let go of that fear, it was just the two of you here一 just his large, beautiful body quivering on top of your shared bed with you perched playfully between his legs. But you’re taking your position seriously as the one in control. You won’t push him over the edge, but you will encourage him to play with the edge of his limits一 if that is what he desires.
Leaning down, further straddling the hips that were beginning to rut against your hand.
“How do you feel?” You breathe, hot against his exposed chest. He opens his mouth to answer一 but words turn to gasps when your tongue sweeps across the stiffened, blush flesh of his nipple. Gasps turn into pleading “oui, yes一 oh please, please, s'il te plaît…” His sparse English devolves into frantic French babbling that you don’t bother to translate, as you concentrate on suckling at his sensitive teat. Your answer to his pleas and sugar-coated begging is a low groan against his skin.
Jean Pierre Polnareff loved pretty things, cute things. He adored the feminine. He told you this is part of why he had fallen so hard for you, and you knew he was sincere.
But you didn’t fully understand the extent of his passion for the soft caresses of femininity until you walked in on him trying on your lingerie一 a satin and lace number he had picked out for you himself.
He had fallen to his knees, begging you to promise two things: never to tell anyone else about what you’ve seen, and for you to just forget you ever saw him like that.
You could only bring yourself to keep half of that promise. You would never tell another soul, that was your responsibility as his lover. He trusted you, and you would prove that he was no fool in this task. He didn’t want to be humiliated, and you guard him against that.
But to forget what you saw in him that day一 how pretty and adorable he looked, how lovingly he stared back at his image in the mirror一 you couldn’t bring yourself to forget that. How could you? Was it not your job to allow him to experience this side of himself with you?
So here you were, teasing and praising him while he wears a newly purchased lingerie set; one that matches the one he wore that fateful day, in his size. Your appearance mirrors his, but you’ve taken on a different role, and so has he.
His cock weeps the more you pet it. You want to make teasing remarks about the mess he’s making of his new panties, now soaked through the soft fabric with his pre-cum一but you hold back. Instead you make more slow circles around his nipple with your tongue. Right now you know what he wants一 what he was so nervous to confess that he needed. So you release the sensitive nub out of your mouth with a wet pop and ask him again:
“How do you feel,” lower, longer syllables as your saliva trails from one teat to the other. “What are you feeling?”
“I-I feel,” his eyes roll back into his head, cheeks the most kissable shade of pink. A shaky hand raised to trace he scrunched hem of his sheer camisole一 “I feel…” his voice is caught between a whisper and a heavy gasp between lips lined with drool. “I feel...pretty.”
There it is, the admission you were waiting for一 his truth bared in pastels and trimmed with lace.
“Yes一” you gasp, greedily massaging the satin-lined mounds on his chest. “You are. You’re so pretty一so adorable.”
You reward his bravery, shifting your body against his; satin against sweat-drenched satin, so that you’re peering up into his heavy-lidded eyes from between his freshly shaved thighs.
“So pretty I could just eat you right up…” you drawl, lolling your tongue out of your spit-slicked lips一 meeting the subtly-salty taste of his damp panties. He throws back his head, mewling and bucking his hips from the sudden contact. His trembling hands grip eagerly onto your head, so you prod at the barely clothed head of his cock with your tongue, letting a heady groan escape. More of his desperate humping make you worm your tongue underneath the satin, where you trail down一 agonizingly slow and careful, to the sensitive skin of his taint.
By the way he’s nearly screaming, you’re sure he’s never dared to explore this part of his body.
You soothe his unneeded shame when you meet his eyes again, squeezing his thigh gently to comfort him. Then you’re watching his lips quiver as you push the spread of his muscled thighs wider, and raising your brows to ask for permission to continue exploring. You wait for the sound of him uttering his safe word, but he swallows the lump in his throat and nods. ‘Please,” he begs with a slow blink of his watery eyes.
You answer with a low moan that means: ‘Of course, beautiful. With pleasure.’ And then your tongue is dancing over his taught pucker, untouched, all yours.
He’s trying to cover his mouth with his large hands, as you’re pushing past the tight ring of muscle, but you grab his arm to stop his attempt at hiding. You want to hear all of his lovely noises as he submits to his most intimate desires, and you love that it’s you who gets to unravel him like this一he’s melting for you.
His swollen balls roll against your face as you work him open with patience一pushing and lapping at his entrance in succession. He’s almost crying from the new sensations, the untapped potential pleasure一so overstimulated that the trust of his hips has become rapid and untamed.
Your hands一 tenderly spreading his cheeks, one of them wraps around his bobbing cock, You give the member a few wanton pumps, and then he’s no longer holding onto reality.
Head craned back, moaning your name so sweetly as his hips stutter. He cums like a fountain.
You pull your tongue away from his pucker to catch some of his release一most of it lands on his lower stomach. You’re matching his high-pitched moans from the taste of it.
In the afterglow you meet his watery blue eyes, presenting him with the sight of his cum collected on your tongue, beginning to drip onto your chin. He’s panting, sweat covering his brow and trailing down his neck. With your tongue still out, you curl the corners of your lips into a gentle smile一 and then he’s forcing his exhausted body upwards to meet you.
“Ah, thank you一,” he says between quick breaths, his arms wrapped tightly around you. He cups your face with one hand, and then his lips are on yours一and he’s kissing you feverishly. If he’s bothered by the taste of his own cum, he doesn’t show it. “Mon amour, thank you一 merci merci. You’re so wonderful. You looked so pretty…”
You press your forehead against his, petting his back with tame and gentle strokes, smiling against his flushed cheeks.
“You’re so pretty…” you whisper, pressing a kiss against his wet lashes.
