Записи с темой: блоутинг (список заголовков)



By:Random Dawn 14

A story in which Light learns what happens when you bring cake into an apartment where a cake lover happens to live. Kind of a random idea. Does not take place during the actual storyline; more of an alternate universe. Nothing gay here. Just fluff. :3

Fiction K+


L, Light Y.

All the kids in school said the new boy was weird, and as far as Light could see, they were right.

While all the other children ran around playing with each other, the boy sat by himself under a tree. And he always seemed to be alone. Light couldn't tell if he was a loner, or if nobody wanted to be around him.

It was probably the latter.

"What are you doing, Light?" An annoying voice asked.

Light sighed before saying, 'Go away, Misa. Be annoying somewhere else."

Instead of listening, Misa sat down next to him. "Ooooh! Are we watching the new kid?"

"He has a name, Misa."

"Really?" Misa looked confused. "I've never heard anyone call him anything but "that new kid". And yesterday I heard a big kid call him a dumb-a—"

"Misa! You shouldn't go around repeating everything the older kids say!"

"Why not?"

Light sighed again. "Never mind why not. Just go play with your friends of something."

"But I love you!" Misa giggled. "I want to stay with you forever!"

"You're eight; how much do you even know about love?"

"Um…not a lot…" she admitted. "But, I know enough to know that I love you, Light Yagami!"

"What I have to put up with… Look at it this way; you're eight, and I'm ten. You're too young for me."

"What about when we get older?"

I'll always be two years older than you. And I don't plan to date younger girls when I grow up."

In fact, I don't plan to date any girls when I grow up.

Misa made a "hmph" noise, then stood up. "You'll change your mind one day, Light."

As she walked away, Light began to wonder why, out of all the girls in the world, the most annoying girl on the planet had to be in love in with him.

With any luck, she'd get less irritating as she grew older.

Shaking his head at that thought, because right now it seemed like Misa would always be this exasperating, he walked over to the new boy.

After watching him a while, Light decided he looked lonely, and was probably too shy—or too afraid—to try and make some friends. He had only been there for less than a week, after all; not a lot of time to got to know anybody.

I'll help him out, though, Light thought,

I'll be his friend, then the others will decide he's not so bad. After all, I'm one of the most popular kids in my grade."

Hi. I'm Light."

The boy looked up at him for a moment before responding with a timid, "Hello…"

Light sat down next to him before asking, "What are you doing over here by yourself?"

"I like being alone," the boy said with a shrug.

"Oh. If you want to be alone, I'll leave…"

"No, it's okay! Um…I don't mind if you stay here."

Light looked at the boy. He looked like a lonely puppy looking for a home. He had a pleading look on his face that seemed to say, "I don't like being alone; please don't leave me!"

Light looked him in the eye. I won't leave you, he silently promised. "You don't have any friends yet, do you?"

The boy shook his head. "No one evens talks to me because I'm so different from everyone else…"

Light frowned. "I'm talking to you."

"No one else is."

"Hmm… Hey, Misa! Come here a minute!"

The young girl was only too happy to do so.

"What is it, Light?" She asked hopefully. "Did you change your mind about—"

"No. I want you talk to…" He turned to the boy. "Uh, I don't know your name."


"Right. Misa, talk to L. You're sooo good at talking with people," he noted sarcastically.

"Okay then!" She faced L. "Hi! Welcome to our school, even though you've been here almost a week now! I'm Misa, and Light's going to be my boyfriend one day!"

"Okay, that's enough, Misa!" Light blushed.

"But, I wasn't done—"

"Bye!" He gave Misa a slight shove that sent her on her way back to her friends.


"Don't listen to her; she thinks she knows what love is, but she's only eight."

"I see…"

"But now two people have talked to you. Stick with me, and pretty soon you won't be such an outsider."

"Stick with you?"

"Yeah. You know, be my friend."

"You…want to my friend?"

Light smiled. "Of course. You seem like a nice person. We just met and I like you already." L smiled slightly.

"Okay, let's be friends, then."

Light continued to smile. "We'll be friends forever, I can feel it!"

As the years went by, the two continued to be friends, and they did a lot together.

When they were old enough to live on their own, they rented an apartment together. The fact that they chose to live with each other was only another sign of how close they are were as friends.

Oh, and Misa (eventually) matured and wasn't quite so annoying. In fact, she and Light started seeing each other, despite the fact that ten years ago Light had said he wouldn't be interested in younger woman.

Hey! Where do you think you're going?! This story isn't over! No, it's just beginning…

Two years after Light and L moved in together…

L's P.O.V.

Waking up to find your arm numb because you fell asleep laying on top of it is not the best to start a day. And waking up to find out it's only five o'clock in the morning makes it even worse.

I should know; that's just how my day started this morning.

With a quiet groan, I sat up and freed my poor arm. When the numb feeling went away, I stood up and silently left the room.

It was too early to be up, but I didn't feel tired, so reading in the living room (Or, what we called a living room) seemed like a good way to pass the time until Light woke up.

Every day this week I had woken up at this time. And it was Friday.

This was becoming a problem…

The morning was warm; even though it was summer it could get chilly before the sun came up.

I turned a lamp on then got comfortable on the couch with a book.

A half hour went by fairly quick, and around the time five-thirty rolled around, I started getting hungry. After another half hour later (At about six o'clock) my stomach was growling.

I wanted to keep reading until seven, but an empty stomach can be a very persistent thing.

I'll feed you when Light wakes up. You can wait that long, can't you?

A loud growl and sudden hunger pains answered that question.

Alright, alright. Point taken. Ow.

Oh well; not like me and Light eat breakfast together every single morning anyway.

I like being able to wait for him to get up so we can eat together, but what I don't like are hunger pains so bad I feel sick.

Once the pain subsided I got up and made my way over to the kitchen. Which didn't take long; the apartment wasn't that big.

It only took a moment for me to notice the cake on the counter.

How did get there, though? I knew for a fact it hadn't been there yesterday morning.

Well…I did spend all of last evening in the bedroom. And now that I think about it…I seem to recall hearing Light go somewhere for a little while after dinner.

I had assumed he was taking a walk; maybe he brought the cake home with him for some reason?

My stomach growled again and a thought crossed my mind.

I like cake. A lot. And Light knows that. He knows if he brings cake home and doesn't tell me not to touch it or doesn't leave a note, I will start eating it.

He never said anything about it last night—otherwise I would have known about it—and I saw no notes; as far as I was concerned, it was fine for me to eat some.

After thinking about it a little more, "eat some" is exactly what I did.


A quiet moan escaped my lips as I lay curled up on the floor.

Stupid cake; why did it have to taste so good? And stupid me for not paying attention and eating it all.

I feel so sick…this wasn't such a good idea… Ugh, and I can't really move.

Although…the floor is surprisingly comfortable; a little chilly, but not so bad.

"So… now what?" I asked myself.

The only answer I got was my belly groaning.

"Shut up. This is partly your fault, you know."

I sighed. I didn't know how long I could take it down here.

I wanted to be on the air mattress that was my bed, and to have someone rub my belly. I wanted someone to look after me, and I wanted that someone to be…Light.

I didn't want to wake him, but I knew I had to.

"Light! Help…"

Light's P.O.V.

One of two things could have woken me up: L calling for me from elsewhere in the apartment, or the knocking on the main door.

The clock on the wall said it was ten after seven.

I didn't even bother wondering about why L was up; what I wanted to know was who the heck was knocking on our door this early?!

With a sigh, I got up and stumbled to answer the door.

Whoever was there was gonna get a punch in the face unless they said something really important to say. Or if they were old. I wouldn't punch out an old person.

Being in an only half-wake state, I didn't think to look out the peephole and opened the door.

Standing there was a woman I guessed was in her early thirties. I think I've seen her around before.

"Ah, good morning," she said. "I'm sorry if I woke you—which judging by the look on your face I did…"

"It's alright," I said quickly. "Can I help you?"

"It's just that…I live in the apartment right under this one, and my daughter woke me up a few minutes ago saying she heard noises that sounded like moaning coming from here. So I came up to see if everything's alright."


It was in that very moment I became aware of the fact I had no idea what L was up to.

"Er…that was probably my housemate. I guess he isn't feeling well today."

"Oh, that's too bad. You should go make sure he's okay."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'll go do that now. I apologize for him waking you and daughter. It won't happen again."

"No, it's quite alright." With that, she left.

I closed the door and sighed again.

"Today is going to be a wonderful day," I muttered.


"Coming. Where are you anyway?"

"Ugh… Kitchen."

Wanting to know what was going on and feeling a bit worried, I went around the wall that separated the kitchen from the short hallway that led to the door.

I don't know exactly what I was expecting to see, but what I saw probably wasn't it.

"Uh…good morning, Light."

"Morning… Would you mind explaining to me why you're laying the floor like that?"

"It's a long story…"

"I'm almost afraid to ask what happened. Did you hurt yourself?"

"Not in a way you'd think…"

"I don't understand then…" By chance I happened to glance at the counter and noticed right away the cake I brought yesterday was no longer there.

I had gone to a near by bakery to get some bread and saw the cake was on sale, so I figured, why not?

It was obvious what happened; my friend had bitten off more than he could chew and now he was paying the price with a stomach ache.

A bit amused, I turned to the table to see how much he had eaten.

My amusement quickly turned into surprise—well, more of a shock—when I saw the cardboard plate that once held cake on it had nothing more than some crumbs.

Oh my God…did he really…? All in one sitting?!


I was speechless. The biggest question I wanted to ask was why would he do that to himself. No, I take that back; the biggest question I had was how he did it.

Most people I know would be puking their brains out by now, and that's assuming they could actually finish it.

Still at a bit of a loss for words, I looked down at my housemate laying on his side, all curled up with his arms wrapped protectively around his middle, blushing slightly because now he knew that I knew.

Finally I sat down next to him and asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so." His stomach, which was groaning loudly enough that I could hear it, seemed to be saying otherwise.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"I guess I'm not hundred per cent okay," L admitted with a sigh. He winced and curled up into an even tighter ball.

"Ohhhh… I feel so sick…"

"I'm not surprised; did you really think you'd be able to eat that much cake and not feel sick?"

"It's not like I planned to eat it all," he said defensively. "It just…kind of happened that way."

I gave a little laugh. "Something like that doesn't just 'happen'. Come on, what were you thinking when you were eating?"

"Well, I was really hungry, and…it tasted so good…"

Somehow, L managed to roll over onto his back. Then he looked up at me and sighed.

"It's all really hard to explain…"

"You know, I guess it doesn't matter. All that matters right now is getting you somewhere more comfortable than the floor so you can rest." I stood up and went to the doorway. "Can you get up?"

"I can try…"

It was amusing watching him attempt to get up; his poor belly seemed to be holding him down.

Finally with a sigh, he gave up and turned to me, a pleading look in his dark eyes.


Laughing, I held out my hands to him.

It took a bit of effort, but with a grunt from both of us, I got him up on his feet.

"There ya go," I smiled. "You made it."


Weakly, he started sinking back down to his knees.

"Hey…" I kneeled down by him. "You can't just lie back down; you have to get to bed."

"I don't…think I can make it to the bedroom."

"That's okay," I reassured him, "you can lay on the couch; it's a little closer."

I noticed he was shaking slightly. This wasn't good…

"What's wrong, L? Are you cold?"

"Y-yes, a little. And my stomach feels kind of funny…"

Oh crap…

I put my hand under his chin and gently forced him to look at me. His face was pale.

I had a bad feeling I knew what was going to happen soon. It might help him feel better, it sure wasn't going to pretty.

"I don't feel so good, Light."

I gave him a sympathetic look. "I know. Come on, now."

I helped him up once more and hurried him to the bathroom.

L's P.O.V.


Not. Fun.

"Are you okay now?" Light asked.

Breathing heavily, I nodded. "I'll be…fine."

With a deep sigh, I lied down, resting my head on Light's leg.

After a moment, Light started gently stroking my hair.

"Feel better now?"

"Hmm… Much better." It was true; I still didn't feel well, but I no longer had the painful feeling of being overfull. Nor did I feel like I had to be sick again. And that alone made me feel better. "I think I can keep the rest of it down now."

"Oh? Are you sure?"

"Yes." Wait. Was I sure? "I mean, I think I'm sure. Dang it, Light! Why did you have to ask me that?"

I could hear him trying not to laugh as he spoke. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. But if you're sure you'll be okay, I'll help you to the bedroom."

"Alright, just give me a minute to let my stomach settle down a little."

"I'll wait as long as you need me to."

Within a few minutes I felt ready to try standing up, but I didn't say anything.

I felt comfortable down there, and Light stroking my hair wasn't helping at all; it made me feel relaxed and ready to take a nap.

Just as I was about to drift to sleep, Light suddenly said something and made me jolt awake.

"Sorry." He must have noticed me jolt. "I didn't want to startle you, but you can't go to sleep here."

"It's fine, I understand."

With only a little help, I got up and managed to get to bed.

When I was laying down I caught a glance at the clock and saw it was only a little after eight.

My day so far was only three hours long and already I worn out.

After making sure I would be okay by myself for a little while, Light went to eat something. I'll admit I find that surprising after what he witnessed in the bathroom, but I guess I misjudged how strong of a stomach he really had.

I tried to tell him he didn't have to stay with me if he was bothered, but he seemed so set on making sure I wasn't alone. I didn't want to take the chance he would start feeling sick, too, but I'm glad he stayed. Knowing I wasn't alone, and that he cared enough about me to stay, made the few minutes I spent with my head in the toilet a little less horrible.

Even though we're in different rooms at the moment, I know I'm not alone, and I never will be.

The drowsiness started catching up with me again.

I knew I would sleep well; my stomach ache was gone for the most part, and I felt much better than I did only an hour ago. Plus, the thought of never being alone made me feel safe somehow.

With a quiet yawn, I went to sleep.

@темы: Живот, Блоутинг, Аниме, rofl, lol, Vomiting, Tummyache, Stuffing, Raito, Light's and L's reactions are fuckin funny, Light, L, Fanfiction, Death Note, Bloated Tummy, Bellyache, Belly Kink, Anime



30 Days of Stuffing With Tomki

Adapted for the Marvel fandom from 30 Days of Fatlock, a series of prompts proposed by fatlock & bumbumshaky on Tumblr. Tags will be updated as I go.
I swapped this idea from Aris_Silverfin. I loved their 30 Days of Fatlock series, and I'm not even in that fandom.

Over the course of 30 prompts, Tom & Loki meet, fall in love, fight, get pregnant, get married, and have sexy times all while weight gain and stuffing kinks abound.


Prompt list below:
Day 1: What's your fave Marvel pairing to fatten up?
Day 2: Who likes to fatten whom up?
Day 3: Mutual gaining?
Day 4: Measurement and weigh in.
Day 5: Tummy kisses.
Day 6: A fight (made up with sexy times and/or food)
Day 7: What about babies?
Day 8: How did the weight gain happen? (Suggested by one partner, by accident, pregnancy, etc.?)
Day 9: New set of clothes.
Day 10: A day of stuffing.
Day 11: Favourite food/s to stuff with?
Day 12: Trying on old clothes.
Day 13: Going out for the day.
Day 14: (Cute) nicknames for the gainer?
Day 15: FREE
Day 16: Keeping a picture diary.
Day 17: Meeting old friends/family.
Day 18: Popping a button.
Day 19: Unintentional gain?
Day 20: Highest amount of weight gain for a pairing?
Day 21: Waddle-comments.
Day 22: Christmas dinner.
Day 23: Honeymoon.
Day 24: Love goes through the stomach.
Day 25: AU!
Day 26: Birthday present.
Day 27: All-you-can-eat.
Day 28: Holidays.
Day 29: Tummy rubs.
Day 30: Sexy times.

Chapter 1: What is Your Favorite Marvel Pairing to Fatten Up?

Tom and Loki meet. When the god returns, things have changed.


Just a bit of fluff with a touch of romance.

Chapter Text

Not entirely surprised to find the trickster god in his bedroom that evening, Tom regards Loki coolly. "You've been watching me, haven't you?" he asked, voice casual and smooth as silk.

Loki sauntered around the mortal's bedroom and made sure to make his feelings on several things known before speaking. He stroked an elegant finger along the dresser inspecting it for dust. He tugged the corner of the bedspread to smooth out an indiscernible wrinkle. He flicked his wrist and, to Tom's horror, his prized The Mighty Thor T-shirt was in Loki's hand, holes being blazed into The God of Thunder's eyes. The God of Mischief tossed the shirt into the trash can with a soft chuckle.

"Are you done?" Tom asked, an edge of annoyance to his voice.

"Quite," Loki replied, hoisting himself up on to the dresser and gazing at Tom curiously with crystal clear blue eyes.

"Are you going to answer my first question?" he asked, almost demanding. It wasn't something Loki was used to.

"Since I learned of your casting as me in those ridiculous moving picture filmy thingies,"

Now it was Tom's turn to chuckle. "Movies," he corrected gently.

"Movies," Loki grumbled.

"Yes. So tell me...how can I improve my performance? Make myself more convincing as you?"

"Well, first off, stop apologizing. Gods apologize for nothing..." he began.

They stayed up talking well into the early morning hours, both enjoying the company of the other much more than they'd have imagined. And so it became that Tom and Loki had grown very close in the years that had followed their initial meeting.


"My god, Lo! What happened to you?" Tom asked as Loki appeared in his living room. "I don't hear from you for months, and you just show up looking like shit? Not cool,"

The god looked himself up and down, hands ghosting over his skeletal frame, eyes sunken, hair matted. "I escaped Asgard. Afraid I'm in a bit of a mess. Can I stay here, Thomas? At least until things blow over," he added hastily.

The Midgardian crossed to Loki and pulled him into a hug. "Of course,"

"Thank you," the god cooed, brushing his lips softly, tentatively, over the human's. Tom kissed back and, surer of himself, Loki deepened the kiss.

@темы: Фанфикшн, Стаффинг, Живот, Боль в животе, Блоутинг, Tummyache, Tom Hiddleston/Loki, Tom Hiddleston, The Avengers (Marvel), Stuffing, Loki, Fanfiction, Bloating, Bloated Tummy, Bellyache, Belly Kink


Hands on the Table

Hands on the Table

Author: Aris_Silverfin

Category: M/M

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Characters: John WatsonSherlock Holmes

Additional Tags: Established Relationshipbelly stuffingBelly KinkdaresBetsOvereatingmoany groany Sherlock



For a prompt: A dare for a stuffing session. Nobody touches the belly. How long can they resist?

Sherlock and John decide to spice up their usual stuffing sessions with an added challenge. The first to touch their own or the other's belly loses. Sherlock thinks he has this in the bag, but John has a surprise move in mind.

Work Text:

Sherlock lazily slid another forkful of mashed potato into his mouth, his lips closing to slip over the utensil, leaving it shining and clean as his lips puckered and shifted as he worked the hot smooth mass with his tongue before swallowing it down. He hummed softly, his other hand moving down to test his stomach, trailing his fingers along the subtle curve that was rising below his rib cage. He was shirtless, and the light touches sent chills through him. He checked the time on his mobile. Excellent right on schedule.

He leaned forward again, feeling his stomach rounding against the elastic of his pajama bottoms, and scooped himself up a liberal portion of mashed potato once again, then doused it in a greasy bacon sauce. He paired it with some perfectly buttered greens and selected another pork chop. He was already feeling full, but there was plenty of food left. And John would be home soon. The detective grinned and picked up his utensils again to resume eating.

Sure enough, just as Sherlock was polishing of his most recent plate, there was the sound of the door from downstairs, then a familiar tread upon the stairs.

"Sherlock! I'm home! Blimey, it smells good, did you make din-"

Sherlock allowed himself a catlike smirk as he drew his arms behind his head, stretching and arching so that his full, rounded stomach was in the doctor's view.

"I did in fact. I hope you don't mind that I started without you. I've been feeling rather insatiable of late," the detective rumbled, letting his hands slip down to rub lightly at his belly instead now.

"Have you?" said John, his own tone deepening as he took in the spread on the table. He tossed his jacket aside and slid into his chair beside Sherlock. He prodded Sherlock's middle lightly and the detective huffed softly in response, shifting languidly. "Nice welcome home though, thanks love." John grinned and kissed Sherlock's cheek, his hand roaming over to rub along with Sherlock's hands. The detective positively purred.

John chuckled. "You know, sometimes I can't tell which of us enjoys rubbing your tum more," he said, fingers with their slight warm roughness positively electrifying every nerve where they touched Sherlock's skin.

Sherlock snorted in response, eyes closed contentedly, his own fingers tracing and probing his belly. "You, John. You've only just entered the room. It took you less than a minute to begin touching me."

"You think you're that irresistible, hm?" countered John, teasing and challenge entering his voice in equal measure. Sherlock felt a sudden rush of excitement, his eyes opening once more to look down at his lover.

"As a matter of fact," the detective said silkily, "I do. And I think my self control is markedly better than a certain ex-army doctor."

"Oh do you? Even if I was, as you say, in the army. That takes discipline," said John, his hand slipping from Sherlock's middle as he crossed his arms, posture straightening, a dangerous sort of glint in his usually kind eyes.

Sherlock watched him hungrily, then smirked and pushed further. "Certainly. But orders, discipline, from someone else. Not-"

"I was a bloody captain, Sherlock," said John, his voice not raised, just a tad more clipped, that fascinating humor underneath. Sherlock practically felt his own nostrils flare with his next deeper breath, but he kept his features schooled, still in that cool, calculating, smirk.

"Hardly different," said Sherlock, sitting back again, his hand still idly circling his middle. He was feeling quite hungry again all of a sudden.

"Isn't it?" said John, arms still crossed, "Well, we'll just have to see about that then. Do an experiment yeah? I don't see you resisting touching that rotound little tum of yours."

Sherlock quickly removed his hand, steepling it with the other and placing his elbows on the table instead. Perfect, intriguing, a game perhaps. Sherlock looked over at John.

"What sort of experiment might that be then?" he asked.

John pursed his lips, then nudged his chair closer to the table, clearly considering his options. He looked back up at Sherlock then explained, "A stuffing, as usual. But this time, the first one of us who touches your belly loses."

Sherlock hummed, a gleeful smile on his lips, as he replied, "Hm, yes. I think that ought to work. Though let's make things a bit more challenging, shall we? No contact between the two of us at all of any kind that does not involve utensils. Any contact with a stomach results in immediate loss of the bet."

"Bet?" prompted John, smiling as well as he loaded up his own plate of the calorific food Sherlock had prepared. "What do I get when I win?"

Sherlock drew himself up haughtily and said, quite casually, "Winner gets to come. Loser has to clean the dishes first."

The detective glanced over, feeling self-satisfied as John visibly swallowed. Oh, this would be so very interesting. Just what he needed after a dull couple of days home on his own.

"S-sounds good. Yeah," agreed John, looking up at Sherlock over his plate. "Well, may the most disciplined man win." He raised his fork to his lover, and Sherlock returned the salute in kind. Then they both began to eat.

For a while, there was no sound in the kitchen but for the scrape and clink of cutlery against plates, a shift of a chair leg against the floor as one of them shifted to get more food. Sherlock was feeling really quite overfull now, his stomach tight and starting to twinge now and again when he swallowed. He slowed his pace, wanting to observe John, perhaps goad him into slipping up. Sherlock really wanted a warm hand on his middle right now.

But John was just resolutely staying focused on his plate, eating his one plateful to Sherlock's three, sipping from his water glass now and again. Well, Sherlock couldn't have that. He wasn't stuffing himself silly to be ignored.

The detective groaned and leaned back, slouching and blowing out his tummy. "Oooh... hmmph. Think I'm getting full, John," he murmured.

John's eyes flicked over to him momentarily before going back to his plate. "Good," said the doctor, "I'm nearly finished here. Then I assume there's dessert yeah?"

"Yes," said Sherlock, sulking slightly before adding with renewed inspiration, "But God, John... I don't think I could eat another bite! My belly's so round... so- urp... so full..." He moaned expertly, shifting in his chair. His own hands clenched the armrests to remind himself not to give in. It was surprisingly hard, he wanted, no needed, someone's hand on his belly, longed to trace the shape of it, map it with his fingertips. He grunted pitifully.

"That's not going to work, Sherlock," said John shortly, though there was a flush creeping up his ears. Sherlock smirked, then sighed dramatically, his stomach expanding once again. This time, John's eyes clearly lingered. Ah, good. He'd finished eating.

"Aren't you going to finish?" John added, nodding curtly at Sherlock's remaining food.

Sherlock chewed his lip, then let his mouth open. "Feed me?" he asked, playing to John's caretaking nature as best he could, "I'm so full. Look at my belly, John... I'm too full."

"Sherlock, shut up," snapped the doctor, even as he moved his chair closer and took up more mashed potato on his fork.

"We never said I wasn't permitted to speak," said Sherlock, lightly, taking the bite of potato as John fed it to him and then giving a low indulgent hum as he swallowed.

"Fine, carry on moaning and huffing like a fat fucking hippopotamus, see what that get's you, Podgy."

Sherlock smirked and accepted the next bite of food silently. He groaned around the next mouthful and chuckled as John shot him a murderous glare, his free hand clenched into a fist on the table.

"Honestly John," drawled the detective, "I can't help it. My belly's so full, stuffed, actually. It- hmmmnng..." He stretched back again, undulating against the seat. "Feels so heavy..."

"Dessert," said John, standing and going to the fridge.

"Mmm, yes please," murmured Sherlock. Once John's back was turned he clenched the arms of his chair hard, his whole body twisting and shifting. He felt so full, so fat, and just hot all over. Every pore was screaming for some sort of touch, anything to help that feeling grow. Heat was building in every cell of him, he was certain, God he needed to touch, needed to press and squeeze and soothe- no!

Sherlock thrust he feet on the floor again angrily with a loud clomp. John returned with the dessert dish, eyebrows raised. "Alright?" he asked.

"Perfectly," retorted Sherlock. He mastered himself once more, then picked up a spoon and tore into the large bowl of chocolate mousse and whipped cream he had prepared. The taste was sweet and wonderfully distracting, though no less rich than the previous meal. Sherlock let out a soft moan yet again as he shoveled the stuff down.

John had daintily taken a more reasonable portion for himself and was now eating it slowly.

"Hmm, this is really good, love," he praised, completely ignoring Sherlock's indecent behavior. Or well, trying to. Sherlock was being a bit too loud to be easily ignored.

"John, please, I'm-urp- I'm so-so full, n-need you to-ah!"

"Sherlock, we made a bet. I'm not going to be fooled that easily," said John, looking over at Sherlock, "What kind of a fool do you-"

Sherlock gleefully noted that he now had the other man's full attention. The detective whimpered, falling back in his chair. His belly was huge and round, distended and sagging ever so slightly into his lap, dragging his pajama bottoms down with it's weight. Sherlock flung his head back, hiccuped, his lips, and chin still flecked with the pudding.

"Huh... John... I-I think I ate... too much. So-ff-brr-full."

"God, Sherlock..."

Sherlock lolled his head over, eyes sliding open and cautiously flitting over his lover. Yes, good. He was moments from giving in... that display had worked. Oh thank God, because he didn't think he could stand it a moment longer. Sherlock's overfull belly gurgled angrily and the man winced.

John's lips were parted, his breathing clearly elevated. his free hand had relaxed and shifted towards him. Good... yes... John... But.

No. No! It had only grabbed the remaining mousse and pulled it towards the doctor. Sherlock barely managed to swallow his growl of frustration.

"John, what are you?"

"Eating," said the doctor, pointedly raising his spoon and tucking into the bowl. Sherlock blinked, his mind hazy, then blinked again. John was now shovelling down the thick creamy dessert at a pace that rivaled Sherlock's previous one. Gone was the reasonable serving. Now he was... devouring everything. Sherlock swallowed, somehow finding the sight utterly mesmerizing. John continued to eat, and eat, and then carried on eating as he scraped up every last bit of the pudding he could find. Sherlock found his own breath catching. No, this wasn't helping his heat problem, nor his touch problem because God...

John's belly was looking round now, pudgy even. Soft round the navel and still growing as John ate. What must that feel like? Soft, then hard underneath? To bite?

John shifted on his chair, grunting in discomfort. Sherlock was now chewing his lip so hard it hurt, his own belly forgotten for a moment because John... John.

His belt had been pushed down, his rounded mousse-filled belly pushing out over top, jumper rucked up. Oh God, he looked so soft, so nibble-able, so squeezable as he grew, expanded, bloated. And oooh... the thought of how much heavy cream had gone into that mousse and the topping. Sherlock keened and threw himself onto the floor, jostled himself between John's legs, his own overfull belly burbling and rolling in protest at the movement, but Sherlock couldn't care. Not when-yes!

John cried out as Sherlock pushed his face into the doctor's soft round belly, his lips parted, jaw mouthing at every bit of exposed belly. His fingers roamed John's sides, stroking and kneading flesh between his fingers. The detective moaned, then bit a soft fold of skin, sucking it to make it bruise.


"John, fff-oh, John... Joooohn..."

The belly against Sherlock's cheek and fingers jostled slightly. Sherlock blinked, momentarily brought out of his reverie. John was... laughing? The detective looked up, affronted.

"I suppose that means I win then," said John, between hiccups and giggles, slumping back in his chair, "Oh Christ." He winced and put a hand to his belly as it twinged at him.

Sherlock sat back on his calves, his own stomach protesting the movement now that he remembered it. Then he pouted magnificently.

"That's not fair. You cheated."

"How did I cheat?" asked John, still breathless, his hand exploring the mound his belly had become, "'First to touch a belly loses' was what we said, yeah?"

"You know me too well. I'm a highly tactile individual," replied Sherlock, "How could I be expected to resist, this?" he gestured at John's tummy, then moved in to rub and squeeze at it again, making John squirm. "I wasn't prepared. I'd never seen you... like this."

"Me neither. I managed though," said John with another chuckle.

Sherlock sniffed. Then wet his lips, eyes still tracing over the round curve of John's belly where it bulged out from under his jumper against his trousers. Well, it could be worse. He slid long fingered hands along John's thighs.

"Well, to the victor the spoils then," he said with a smirk, "Though I maintain that this contest wasn't conducted on even ground. My tactile needs are far-"

"Yeah, yeah, alright," said John, grinning in return and shuddering slightly as Sherlock's breath puffed against his lower belly, "Sore loser. But tell you what. You can pick the next game then."

"Hm, I look forward to it," replied Sherlock, then leaned in to kiss John's belly again. Well, to be honest. This was probably going to be rather rewarding for the both of them. His fingers fussed with John's belt, then his trouser button. Then John groaned as that wonderful, wonderful belly was finally free and in Sherlock's highly attentive care.

@темы: Belly Kink, Bellyache, Bloated Tummy, Bloating, Fanfiction, John Watson, Sherlock BBC, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Stuffing, Tummyache, Блоутинг, Боль в животе, Джон Ватсон, Живот, Стаффинг, Фанфикшн, Шерлок Холмс


Галереи художников

Галереи художников, которые рисуют и пишут по кинкам:
  • стаффинг (stuffing)
  • вг (WG, weight gain)
  • блоутинг (bloating)
  • мпрег (mpreg)
  • фемпрег (fempreg)
  • вор. (vore)

  • Делитесь своими )



















    kazuv.deviantart.com (фемпрег)





    zanten.deviantart.com (vore)

    evilstuffersebastian.deviantart.com (моя)





    1o1whorrifying1o1.deviantart.com (фемпрег)








    @темы: Галереи художников, Вор, ВГ, Боль в животе, Блоутинг, Аниме, Weight gain, WG, Vore, Stuffing, Sherlock BBC, Naruto, Mpreg, Kuroshitsuji, Hellsing, Fempreg, Deviantart, Death Note, Bloating, Bleach, Живот, Картинки, Мпрег, Ориджмнал, Рассказ, Роллевые, Стаффинг, Темный Дворецкий, Фанфикшн, Фемпрег, Художники