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Записи с темой: Кино (список заголовков)
03:21 

EvilStufferSebastian
Сегодня у нас явно тема мультиков перед сном :vo:

Любимый кинковый момент в любимом мультике детства )

Мульт: "Динозаврики-малыши"
Серия: "Тебя найдут по крошкам"

zserials.tv/multserialy/dino-babies.php



@темы: Bloated Tummy, Bellyache, Belly Kink, Stuffing, Tummyache, Боль в животе, Видео, Динозаврики, Кино, Стаффинг, мульт

03:31 

Локи требует полного внимания!

EvilStufferSebastian
archiveofourown.org/works/6286792?view_adult=tr...

Название: Локи требует полного внимания!
Автор: auntieomega
Переводчик: EvilStufferSebastian
Summary:
Когда Локи понял, что Брюс его игнорирует, он решил наказать своего любовника и сьесть все, что Брюс приготовил для вечеринки на работе. Но месть сладка, особенно в виде бдсм и тортика.



Живот Локи пробурчал, в то время как сам Локи мрачно надулся, перекрестив руки на груди; остановившись за рабочим креслом Брюса.
- Я голодный. Когда ты собираешься сделать что-то поесть? - Локи оставил все попытки быть лапушкой час назад. Его любовник просто бессердеченый -и он больше не может этого терпеть!
Брюс даже не выглянул, погрузившись в свой ноут.
- Локи, извини. Серьезно. Но в миллиардный раз, я должен закончить это. Это важно.
- Это что, важнее меня? - хотя, Локи знал, что он не должен ревновать к каким-то там документам, но он ревновал. Брюс души в нем не чаял, и Локи к этому привык. Он как будто расцветал, когда получал внимание, и нуждался в нем, как розы нуждаются в дожде. Брюс игнорировал его уже не менее трёх часов. Как можно было ожидать от Локи, что он вынесёт ещё, если никто не заботится о каждой его потребности и не говорит ему, насколько он непривзойденный и чудесный? Как раз этот момент Брюс вздохнул и развернулся, чтобы посмотреть на него.
- Конечно же, нет. Ничто не может быть важнее тебя.
- Хорошо. В таком случае выключи эту гадость и обрати внимание на меня, - он повадился стукнуть по ноуту, но, к сожалению, Брюс блокировал удар.
- Сломать мой планшет тебе недостаточно? Тебе нужно сломать все мои вещи?
Локи бросил в него гневный взгляд:
- Это привлечет твоё внимание?
- Локи, - Брюс вымолвил его имя очень нежно, - я люблю тебя, но эти документы важны для меня. Если ты любишь меня, для тебя это тоже должно быть важно.
Локи оценивающе посмотрел на своего ученого.
- Я голоден.
Брюс на секунду опустил голову и покачал ей, потом вернулся к своему печатанию.
- На верхней полке холодильника осталась еда. Подогрей что-то себе.
Локи не спешил, мысленно вонзая кинжалы в холодную, нелюбящую голову Брюса, а точнее - в ее затылок. Впрочем, его урчащий живот напомнил ему, что он и в самом деле был голоден, поэтому он вылетел из кабинета, прошагал на кухню, и с размаху открыл холодильник. Остатки. Бэ. Боги не едят остатков.
А потом он увидел на второй полке большой противень с яично-овощными рулетами, которые Брюс сделал раньше в этот же день. Их было две дюжины, а приготовление заняло у Брюса почти все утро. Локи знал, что они предназначены для праздника, где каждый приносит угощение с собой - и все это для работы Брюса, но Локи не понимал, как две дюжины спасут празднование
Он вытащил противень, поставил его на стол, и открыл крышку. Локи начал есть. Он не позаботился о том, чтобы нагреть рулеты, они и холодными были хороши. Хрустящие и солёные: Локи мог практически попробовать всю ту нежность, которую Брюс вложил в них, готовя. Он ел, словно поглощал любовь Брюса. К тому времени, когда Локи сьел четыре рулета, его аппетит был удовлетворен. Но его потребность - нет. Локи начал есть пятый рулет, чувствую себя тем, кто мстит и наносит возмездие. Брюс заслужил прочувствовать на себе гнев бога зла. Полный решимости, Локи собрался съесть их все!
Первая дюжина пошла довольно легко. Он чувствовал, как живот растянулся, но яичные рулеты были очень вкусны. Особенно Локи нравилась капуста, приятная и хрустящая. Со второй дюжиной так просто было не управиться. Локи торжественно освободил одну из бутылок бельгийского эля из холодильника и налил себе стакан. Он был замечательный, с густой кремовой пенкой. Бутыль вмещала всего два стакана, так что ему надо было открывать вторую.

Он уничтожил следующую дюжину яичных рулетов в приятном забытие эля. Несмотря на то, что он ужасно наелся, он чувствовал себя прекрасно.
Локи подумывал над тем, что еще он может такого сьесть, чтобы помучить Брюса. Его живот начал булькать, когда он оставил стул, чтобы осуществить набег на буфет. Живот издал громкий, рычащий звук. Локи успокаивал свой выпучившийся живот настойчивым поглаживанием.
Это миссия. Здесь нет места нытью. Не время страху. Только сладкая, сладкая победа... и бруни! Шоколадно-тыквенные бруни! И глупый Брюс, который любил дурацкие документы больше, чем Локи - да, он выразился по-другому, но его действия говорят сами за себя - попытался их укрыть в миске. Локи даже не стал садиться, чтобы сьесть их. Он унес жизни половины из них, стоя и возвышаясь над миской, и оставил выживших на столе, чтобы они поведали об этом.
Локи не мог сидеть на стуле, потому что штаны слишком давили. В конце концов, он решил, что они черезчур давили даже в стоячем положении, поэтому он их снял и оставил на полу в кухне.
Локи усмехнулся сам себе: Брюс ненавидел, когда он расбрасывал свою одежду. Его усмешка изменилась на сморщенное выражение лица, когда живот начало болезненно крутить. Он закрыл глаза и погладил живот, который болел. Он мог наложить исцеляющее заклинание, но решил так не делать. Боль была сильной и настоящей, ему это нравилось.
Локи неохотно доедал бруни, пока ждал Брюса из его кабинета. Он ждал и ждал. Ничего от бруни не осталось, а Брюс до сих пор не пришел.
Живот Локи вёл его к кабинету Брюса. У Локи немного кружилась голова и ему было в целом неочень хорошо, но мысль о том, чтобы позлить Брюса подталкивала его к победе!
- Я заканчиваю, - проговорил Брюс, не отрываясь от своей работы. Локи приблизился к нему и помахал своим животом перед лицом Брюса. Брюс начал отпихивать его, и, вместо этого, нашупал огромный круглый живот Локи. Не отрывая глаза от Локи, одной рукой он закрыл ноут. Локи схватил другую руку и положил на свой переполненный живот.
- Мне нужна та, вторая, тоже, - он сказал. Локи облегченно вздохнул, ощущая блаженство от того, что Брюс машинально начал поглаживать божественный живот двумя руками.
-Я и не представлял, что у нас осталось столько еды, - проговорил Брюс с широко открытыми глазами.
Локи фыркнул:
- Я не ел остатки.
- Локи, что ты натворил? - хотя, по голосу Брюс терял самообладание, он не прекращал гладить. Локи рассказал ему все. Он наслаждался вспышками страха и негодования, которые играли на лице Брюса. И всё же Брюс не прекращал гладить живот Локи.
- Ты в порядке? - наконец, спросил Брюс.
- Я прекрасно, - и действительно, благодаря поглаживаниям он чувствовал себя намного лучше.
-Ты прекрасно. Конечно, ты всегда прекрасен, - Брюс улыбнулся, и Локи одобрил это прозрение. - Весь день ты жаждал моего внимания, - заговорил Брюс. - Теперь оно твое. Давай сыграем.
Локи вожделенно заёрзал, он начал возбуждаться, когда его любовник прикоснулся к нему. Брюс обвёл рукой вокруг тела Локи и шлёпнул по заднице.
- Ты был очень непослушным богом. Я должен наказать тебя.
- Люди не наказывают богов.
- Они наказывают - в этой квартире, - Брюс прошелся пальцем по резинке трусов Локи. - Сними то, что на тебе одето.
- Почему ты не снимешь их с меня?
- Потому что тебе это понравится, а ты наказан, помнишь? - Брюс оставил стол вместе с Локи, чтобы подвесить черный слинг из кожи и металла. Когда он поднял глаза на Локи, он сказал:
- Черт, ты выглядишь восхитительно.
Локи засиял. Брюс начал осматривать слинг.
- Наложи противорвотное заклинание.
- Зачем? - Локи спросил осторожно.
- Потому что тебе это понадобится.
Как только Локи наложил заклинание, Брюс помог ему влезть в подвесную конструкцию из жгутов и ремней. В конструкции имелись толстые ремни, которые поддерживали грудь и бедра, но оставляли дыру для его голого живота; в ней так же была дыра для гениталий и приспособления для того, чтобы закрепить его руки за спиной. После проделанной работы, Локи свисал где-то на треть метра от пола, так, как, если бы летел; его раздутое пузо касалось ковра.
А потом Брюс исчез. Если это было частью наказания, Локи совсем это не радовало. Все же, Брюс вернулся и сел, скрестив ноги, перед головой Локи. У него с собой была вилка и огромный шоколадный торт.
- Откуда у нас шоколадный торт?
- Я спрятал кое-что от тебя, сладкоежка. Это от Дианы за то, что мы присмотрели за Бастером , пока она была в Белизе. А сейчас тебе придется сьесть этот торт. Весь. Потому что ты плохой, плохой Локи, - он протянул вилку к губам Локи. Локи ел с удовольствием. Он поглощал кусок за куском, и с тортом было практически покончено.
Брюс убрал волосы Локи с лица и лизнул крем с его губ. Локи отвернул голову, чтобы тот не успел его поцеловать.
- Ты ООС, - он шикнул. - Ты должен меня наказывать.
Довольный, Брюс отпрял от него и сказал:
- Заткнись и ешь свой торт, Локи.
Когда торта не стало, Локи почувствовал тяжесть в животе. Его живот провисал еще ниже, чем перед этим, выделяясь по сравнению со стройной фигурой, спина прогибалась под ним.
После того, как торт был сьеден, Брюс притащил попкорн и скормил ему с рук. За этим последовал большой стакан водки с тоником. Локи чувствовал, что его существенно раздуло. Хотя, он был довольно пьян, но боль в брюхе стала сильно ощущаться. Вместо игривой боли, теперь была сплошная, сдавливающая боль. Должно быть, это отразилось на его лице, потому что Брюс одарил его поцелуем, потом передвинулся в сторону и начал гладить раздувшийся живот Локи и поглаживать его член. Локи нежно постанывал, довольный. Немного погодя ему стало лучше, но Брюс ушел, чтобы принести еще еды, это расстраивало. Живот Локи был мучительно набит и нуждался в том, чтобы его еще погладили. Локи ожидал, что наказание сегодняшнего вечера подходит к концу.
В этот раз Брюс вернулся с огромнейшим пирогом, украшенным клубникой.
- Как это называется? - спросил Локи, воодушевленный и напуганный водночасье.

- Клубничный чизкейк. Это от Карлы за то, что мы поливали цветы, пока она была в Чикаго. И сейчас каждый его кусочек спуститься по твоему чудесному горлу, - он протолкнул вилку с куском торта в рот Локи.
Локи содрогнулся. Торт был вкусен, но намного жирнее, чем всё, что готовил Брюс.
- Это не тофу...
- Это сливочный сыр, который должен внушать тебе страх. Я думаю, тебе понравится.
- Я не думаю, что он нравится мне сейчас, - большой кусок чизкейка. - Брюс, я... - ещё больший кусок чизкейка. - Я должен оста... - ещё чизкейка.
Локи начал протестовать опять, а Брюс схватил его за волосы и отдернул назад так, что Локи прогнулся в спине, а затем взял кусок торта в руку и накормил Локи.
- Плохой, плохой Локи ест плохой, плохой чизкейк.
Локи взвыл. В такой позиции он чувствовал ужасное давление за своим пупком. Он был уверен, что лопнет в любой момент. Он хотел обхватить и погладить больной живот, но его руки были завязаны за спиной. Он не мог ничего сделать, кроме как висеть, поглощая кусок за куском этого жирного сливочного чизкейка.
- У меня живот болит, - решился сказать Локи. - Он ужасно болит. Я больше не могу...
Брюс взглянул на Локи, сосредоточенный на его губах.
- Ты прорвешься.
Локи чувствовал, что сейчас он прорвется... его внутренности прорвутся. Им еще нужно было вместить в себя половину чизкейка. Локи запаниковал.
- Адено... - чизкейк. - Аденози... - чизйкейк. - Чертов придурок, ты знаешь, что я соби... еще долбанный чизкейк. - Аденози Три... - чизкейк. В этот раз с клубникой на ногу: - АТП, ты, придурок!

Брюс бросил взгляд на Локи, держа кусочек чизкейка в руке:
"Сокращения недоступимы. Ты согласился на это. Ты знаешь правила" - он размазал чизкейк по губам Локи, раздвигая их и помогая себе пальцами протолкнуть торт внутрь.

Это последнее предательство разрушило Локи. Он висел в тихой, бесшумной агонии, принимая в себя кусок за куском жуткого торта. Он был покорным и послушным, но выступившие слёзы в глазах что-то говорили...

Брюс нагнулся, поймал слезинку своим языком и прошептал на ухо Локи: "Аденозин Трифосфат. Локи, я не могу тебя наказывать, когда ты плачешь"

"Какой смысл иметь безопасное слово, если ты игнорируешь меня, когда я пытаюсь его сказать?"

Брюс отсел и начал слизывать крем с пальцев.
"Ты прав. Я заигрался. И думал, что ты тоже играешь со мной"
Его чистая рука поглаживала лицо Локи.
"Ох, Локки, мне очень жаль..."

"Ты прощён, - сказал нехотя Локи. - Я полагаю, я понимаю, почему ты так заигрался. Тебе так нравится меня кормить. И я очень сексуален"
Брюс широко ухмыльнулся.

"Да, ты очень сексуален"

"Конкретно сейчас я так же очень "больной". А ты ничего не делаешь с этим. Ты просто сидишь там и обсасываешь свои долбаные пальцы, когда ты должен был позаботиться обо мне"

Брюс ничего не сказал, но подвинуося в сторону Локи.
"Ты превосходен с этого угла. Не могу поверить, насколько ты большой"
Его пальцы царапали раздувшийся живот Локи. Вдруг его язык был в Локином пупке.
"Ммм, - вымолвил Брюс. - Я могу просидеть здесь всю ночь, обсасывая твой пупок, пока он не станет чувствительным и набухшим.
"Это не звучит так же эротично, как ты думаешь"

"Бедный Локи. Давай вытащим тебя из этих ремней"
Как только Локи был свободен и мог увидеть себя сам, он понял, почему Брюс пришёл в такое восхищение. Его, обычно плоский, живот выперся в массивный бугор, который начинался как раз под слингом и заканчивался над его пахом. Он не только не мог видеть своих ступней, он еле видел свой член.
Он нуждался в Брюсе, который бы ему помог добраться до спальни. Брюс подпёр его тело подушками, затем умостился на кровать рядом. Он гладил живот Локи концентрическими кругами, ненадолго останавливаясь, чтобы поцеловать.
"Любимый Локи, - он прошептал. - Хороший Локи"

Локи нравилось, когда ему поглаживали живот даже, когда он чувствовал себя хорошо; он обожал, когда ему гладят живот, когда он болит. Он издавал вздохи, стоны и корчился под прикосновениями Брюса. Когда прикосновения стали жёстче, Локи издал звук, похожий на урчание, а его член стал напряжённым.

Брюс начал вдавливать костяшки пальцев и постукивать ими о грудь Локи.

"Это почти больно, - отреагировал Локи, резко простонав, как только Брюс задействовал больше давления на верх живота.

"Что ты делаешь?"

"Пытаюсь открыть твою третью чакру"

"Почему мы не оставим её закрытой?.. - он начал задыхаться. - Подожди... - странное ощущение наполнило всё его тело. Он как будто почувствовал оргазм у себя в животе.

"Ох, ох, Брюс, чёрт..."
Он не представлял, что его трясёт, пока он не остановился.

"Тут расположена нейронная сеть", - Брюс сказал в духе обьяснения, он убрал свою руку и начал покрывать поцелуями верх живота Локи.

После чего его голова практически исчезла, и Локи, до сих пор наслаждавшийся ощущением, издал довольный стон, как только горячий влажный рот накрыл его пульсирующий член
Брюс сосал член Локи, одновременно массажирая Локин вздувшийся живот, останавливаясь, чтобы поласкать бедра под ним. Локи больше не чувствовал боли. Каждый выпирающий дюйм его тела купался в роскоши наслаждения.

В момент, когда Локи был близок, Брюс остановился, Локи издал недовольный рык. Он затих, когда почувствовал, как язык Брюса кружит вокруг его дырочки.
"Д-да", - сказал он шёпотом, когда язык вошёл в него. Ему перехватило дыхание, когда пальцы заменили язык. В то время как пальцы Брюса расстягивали дырочку Локи, губы Брюса вернулись, чтобы поклоняться его члену. Когда Брюс перестал сосать, Локи вытянулся, чтобы достать лубрикант с прикроватной тумбочки и бросил им в голову Брюсу.
"Смазка"

"Спасибо, Локи", - раздражённо ответил Брюс. Он погрузил несколько смоченных лубрикантом пальцев в Локи, скользя внутри него.

"Ты не ведёшь себя как плохой мальчик, не так ли?"
Локи одарил его злобным взглядом в ответ.
"Потому что я собирался трахнуть тебя очень нежно и деликатно, чтобы не тормошить твой большой красивый животик, но если ты плохой, плохой, непослушый Локи, я вынужден буду трахать тебя жёстко и грязно и заставлю тебя скакать по всей кровати".

Локи оглянулся в поисках того, чем бы ещё в него запустить. Ничего не найдя в ближайшей досягаемости, он взглядом наткнулся на голову Брюса возле своей ступни, и хихикнул. Брюс навис над ним и стал неистово щекотать.
Локи проревел: "Стоп. Остановись. Не надо, - Локи вымолвил, не дыша. - Я так полон еды"
"Я знаю. И будешь даже наполненнее через секунду"

Локи кратко рассмеялся, его дыхание прервалось, когда Брюс всунул член глубоко в него. Живот Локи сильно бурлил. Он начал пересматривать своё решение быть плохим Локи. Он придерживал своё пузо, когда ещё один резкий толчек врывался в его набухшие внуренности. Рука Брюса присоединилась к его собственной и нежно поглаживала. Не взирая на угрозы Брюса перед этим, он замедлил темп и стал массажировать огромный живот Локи, пока они занимались любовью.

Обычно Локи был очень активным во время секса. В его нынешнем положении, однако, он не мог ничего больше сделать, как лежать и принимать. В каком-то смысле это было так же, как быть связанным ремнями. Он был зависим и уязвим. И всё же Брюс, который доминировал, кажется, хотел только любить и ублажать Локи.

Брюс скользил по члену Локи, лаская его головку. Они с Локи кончили одновременно.
Брюс упал рядом с Локи. Локи погладил его по лицу и вздохнул.
"Извини, что я съел все твои рулеты" - он сказал немного погодя.
"Мне жаль, что ты не понимаешь, как я люблю тебя"

Эмоция в голосе Брюса удивили Локи. Он подвинулся ближе к своему любовнику.
"Я знаю, что ты любишь меня"

"Ты не знаешь, если ты думаешь, что провести дневном время без тебя значит, что мне всё равно"
Он заправил волосы Локи за ухо.
"Иногда жизнь заставляет меня делать вещи, которые не Локицентричны. Но я никогда не прекращал любить тебя. И никогда не перестану".

Глаза Локи наполнились слезами.
"Я не привык к тому, что люди меня любят и имеют в виду именно это"
Брюс приволок его к себе ближе и поцеловал в лоб.
"Привыкай".
"Я попробую", - голос Локи смягчился. Он выпустил довольный выдох, когда Брюс погладил ему животик. Через какое-то время Брюс вышел, чтобы убраться и взять воды, обещая, что они посмотрел любимый фильм Локи "Robot Chicken", когда он вернётся. Пока Брюса не было, Локи отколдовал своё пузо, оставаясь со своим плоским животиком, который был немного растянут и побаливал.

Брюс вернулся со стаканом воды для Локи. Он взобрался на кровать и прошёлся ладонью по гибкому торсу Локи. Не дожидаясь просьбы, он начал поглаживать живот Локи, который болел.

"Уже избавился от него, да?"
"Ага, я отправил его к Тору"
"Снова? И как ты полагаешь, что он думает, с ним происходит?"
Локи отпил воды и поёжился.
"Я сомневаюсь, что он даже заметит".
Брюс поднял брови.
"Там же было невозможное количество капусты. Если он не заметит в этот раз, я уверен, люди вокруг него заметят"
Локи настолько широко ухмыльнулся, что мышцы его лица заболели:
"Он бог грома"

@темы: Стаффинг, Перевод, Кино, Живот, Боль в животе, Tummyache, The Avengers (Marvel), Stuffing, Loki, Fanfiction, Bloated Tummy, Bellyache, Belly Kink

01:38 

Comfort and Joy

EvilStufferSebastian
archiveofourown.org/works/2494043

Category: M/M
Fandoms:The Avengers (Marvel Movies)Tom Hiddleston - FandomThor (Movies)
Relationship:Tom Hiddleston/Loki
Characters:FA!TomTom HiddlestonLoki (Marvel)Chubby!Loki - CharacterGaining!Loki - Character
Additional Tags:Belly KinkBelly RubsStuffingFeedingFeeding KinkHiccupsBurpsBody ImageFood IssuesEmotional Eatingbinge eatingEmotional Hurt/ComfortLoki FeelsHumiliationPublic HumiliationVerbal Humiliation


Comfort and Joy
orphan_account
Summary:

A follow-up to Christmas is Coming and Loki's Getting Fat.
Loki's feeling insecure about his recent weight gain and Tom's doing nothing to alleviate his partner's feelings of inadequacy. That causes Loki to wrest control of their relationship the only way he knows how: eating.

Notes:

This is a stuffing fic. If that's not your thing, keep it moving. If it is, enjoy and leave me a comment since I'm a new author to this kink.

Work Text:

"Alright, darling, I'll be home tonight no later than 5:30. Then we can set up for the party since everyone's going to be here by 7," Tom reminded Loki, kissing him as he left for the day. "Love you!"
Loki smiled contentedly despite the fact that it was four in the morning, feeling that he'd finally regained the confidence he'd lost as a result of his sudden, rapid weight gain. He rolled over onto his back and jiggled his belly which wasn't stuffed for a change. A small victory, he thought. He was an emotional eater and the unhappier he was, the more he'd overeat. While he wasn't thrilled with the extra thirty pounds he'd packed onto his once slender frame over the last ten weeks Tom loved it, making Loki feel more comfortable in his own skin. The god sat up and absently stroked his soft gut as it lay heavily in his lap. He was startled from his reverie by the phone. "Hello?"
"Darling, it's me. Listen, change of plans for tonight. I'm going to be later than I thought, filming's hit a snag. They didn't get the shots they needed yesterday, so I won't be home until about 7:30, so I've moved the party back to 9, OK?"
Loki realized it wasn't a question and felt his heart sink. He was being pushed aside by Thomas' work. Again. "Sure. See you then," he said quietly handing up the phone, tears pricking his eyes. Suddenly, he felt famished-and a little vindictive. And very neglected. He padded to the kitchen in his bare feet wearing nothing but black boxer briefs. He went straight to the refrigerator and relieved it of the food meant for the party: the 24 beef wellingtons he had helped Thomas so lovingly prepare; the sweet carrots with onions and fennel drenched in butter; the rich chocolate mint cheesecake; homemade French onion dip with fresh veggies, cheese straws, homemade crackers, cookies, candies, brownies, spiced nuts, beef jerky, and a myriad of other items. He began to eat, absently shoveling food into his mouth. By the time the first pink light of dawn crept in through the kitchen window, Loki had been eating for three hours. He sighed and surveyed the damage. He'd eaten everything but the snacks, his bloated belly pushing painfully against the elastic of his boxers. He leaned back in his chair and burped, pulling the waistband underneath the swell of his engorged stomach. He rubbed his abdomen trying to relieve some of his discomfort to no avail. He moaned softly and wished Thomas had been home. He knew just how to rub Loki's tummy when he was this painfully full to make him feel better. He went to the fridge and pulled out the soda and beer for the party, drinking a six-pack of Coke followed by a six-pack of Guinness. He belched loudly and began hiccuping. He squealed in pain and hugged his gorge, hoping if he remained still the hiccuping would subside. When that didn't work, he worked his fist into the soft flesh at the top of his swollen belly, feeling a bit of give. He ground his fist deeper and burped again, long and loud. He sighed in relief and waited to see if his hiccups would return. They didn't, so he continued eating, finishing off the snacks right around 7 p.m. He'd been eating for about fifteen hours, give or take, and his belly was full to bursting. He'd have spelled his binge away, but didn't have the strength. He slumped over in his chair and laid his head on the table, a sweating, hiccuping, burping mess, desperately rubbing at his belly to get some relief. He'd never felt his stomach this hot, this tight. He could actually feel the outline of the engorged organ through the fat on his gut. "You *hic* fuck-*burp*ing *hic* pig," he hissed hatefully, slapping the crest of his swollen stomach. He squealed in pain, then began rubbing his tender belly in earnest. "Owwww!" he howled to no one, sobbing. "*burp* I'm such a *hic* fucking *burp* worthless cow," he whispered miserably as he heard the key turn in the lock. Thomas was home. He'd rub his belly. He'd make everything better.
"What the fuck, Loki?!" Tom yelled when he saw the aftermath of Loki's binge littered all over the kitchen. "Did you...?" he began. He stalked over to the table and tried to pull the chair out from under the table, but Loki's swollen belly had him effectively pinned.
"I feel so bloated!" he wailed, cradling his tender middle.
"Get dressed," Tom commanded.
"What?" Loki whimpered feebly.
"Get. Dressed," Tom hissed in a dangerously low whisper. "I'm calling everyone and we're going out to eat,"
"But I'm stuffed!" Loki protested, a note of panic in his voice.
"Then wear something comfortable. You think it's cute to eat all the party food? It's not and I'm dragging you out, bloated belly or not," he said callously.
Loki heaved himself out of the chair and waddled off to the bedroom to get changed as Tom called the party guests. "Oof!" Loki grunted, trying to button his dress shirt over his distended middle. The buttons were dangerously close to popping and his flesh was clearly visible between the gaps in the shirt, bright pink stretched over his tummy and creamy white elsewhere. He was humiliated, but he knew that was the point Thomas was trying to make. Loki had humiliated him by eating the food he was going to serve his guests and now he was going to humiliate him by parading him around in public like a prized pig. He deserved it, he thought glumly, his insecurities bringing him to a new all-time low. He put a suit jacket on but knew that didn't have a chance in hell of buttoning around his belly either, so he didn't even try. He pulled on his new black jeans, his "fat pants," and was horrified when the fabric had a six inch gap. He sunk to the bed and began to cry. He was trying, he really was, to be a better person for Thomas but no matter hard he tried, he failed. Always. "Tom!" he called. "I can't go, nothing fits," he moaned.
"Then cast a spell!"
"I can't, I'm too full!"
"Well, whose fault is that? Tough shit, Loki, you're going, now get out here before I make you eat a six foot long sub sandwich!"
Loki slowly got up, dried his eyes , and waddled to join Thomas, hands in the small of his back like a pregnant woman. "My back hurts," he said quietly.
"Given the size of your gut, I'm surprised it's not broken, now let's go," Tom said sternly.
Loki slowly followed and painfully lowered himself into the passenger seat. Tom reclined the seat to give the god a bit more comfort, but the safety belt still dug into the soft flesh of his swollen belly. Tom drove to the restaurant, each bump they went over eliciting a burp from Loki, who was clutching his stomach and groaning in agony. "Are we here?" Loki gasped, struggling to sit up once they'd stopped.
"Yes. And you're going to behave,"
Loki grunted and waddled in after Tom, taking the first seat he could find and placing both hands on either side of his swollen middle. He began massaging his belly, moaning softly.
The dinner was catered and everyone served the same thing: cream of potato soup, steak, and cheesecake. "Do I-?" Loki asked Tom quietly.
"Yes," the mortal hissed, cutting him off.
Loki nodded dully and numbly began shoving the food into his mouth. He had no idea how it'd make it into his already packed stomach. He didn't care. He felt two of the buttons of his shirt pop off at the crest of his swollen belly and he had to fight back the tears of humiliation and betrayal. He risked a sideways glance at Thomas and felt a gentle hand splay out over his bloated gut. Tom kneaded Loki's stomach expertly, knowing just where to apply pressure to make the god burp.
"Aren't you afraid I'll embarrass you?" he hissed bitterly.
"I'm sorry, Lo," Tom whispered, his nose tickling the shell of Loki's ear. "Let's get you home,"
"Really?" Loki whimpered, relieved.
"Really," Tom said, standing up and making his goodbyes, giving an excuse that he didn't feel well. He helped Loki up and draped his jacket across his shoulders, wrapping his arm around Loki's expansive waist in an effort to shield his bulging midsection from curious stares. He guided his waddling god back to the car, buckling him in, and driving home as fast as he could, rubbing Loki's belly the entire way.
"Tom..." Loki began as he was being put to bed.
"I know," Tom said, unable to look him in the eye as he helped Loki undress. " I'm so sorry, Lo. It was cruel. I knew you felt insecure and I made you go, anyway. I knew how bloated and uncomfortable you were, and I ignored you. I'm a shitty boyfriend,"
"You can make it up to me," Loki replied, rolling onto his side with a groan, his back to Tom.
"How?"
"Rub my belly,"
"Always. I love you, Loki," he said, softly caressing the steep curve of Loki's still swollen belly as the god began to snore softly.

@темы: Loki, Stuffing, The Avengers (Marvel), Tom Hiddleston, Tom Hiddleston/Loki, Кино, Стаффинг, Фанфикшн

01:33 

Christmas is Coming and Loki's Getting Fat

EvilStufferSebastian
archiveofourown.org/works/2491844

Category:M/M
Fandoms:The Avengers (Marvel Movies)Tom Hiddleston - FandomThor (Movies)
Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Loki
Characters:Tom HiddlestonLoki (Marvel)Chubby!Loki - CharacterGaining!Loki - CharacterFA!TomStuffed!Loki - Character
Additional Tags:Belly KinkBelly RubsBody ImageWeight GainFood IssuesEmotional Hurt/ComfortHiccupsDaddy IssuesMommy IssuesLoki FeelsStuffingBurpsFeedingFeeding KinkHand Feeding


Christmas is Coming and Loki's Getting Fat
orphan_account
Summary:

A follow-up of sorts to Practice Thanksgiving. Loki's feeling neglected while Tom shoots and turns to food for comfort.

Notes:

This story contains belly stuffing. If that's not your thing, keep it moving. Otherwise, I welcome comments, as I'm a new author to this kink.

Work Text:

Tom returned after a long day of shooting to find the living room floor littered with empty containers and wrappers, Loki reclining on the couch eating macaroni and cheese from a large bowl balanced on his now perpetually rounded belly. One long leg dangled off the couch, his stomach being far too distended to allow anything but resting heavily between the god's thick thighs. "Darling, what did you do now?" he asked, exasperated.
"Whath? I'm hubgry," Loki replied through a mouthful of pasta.
Tom kneeled next to the stuffed god, removing the bowl, and gently rubbed his swollen belly. "This..." he chided, "begs to differ,"
Loki hiccuped and burped, clutching his aching gut. "I'm sorry!" he wailed, bursting into tears.
"Oh, Loki," Tom murmured soothingly, applying gentle pressure with the heel of his hand to Loki's bloated tummy. "Why are you doing this? Ever since Halloween...even before then...every time I see you, you're stuffing your face. You always look terribly bloated and uncomfortable and beg me to rub your belly after your binges. Why?"
Loki hiccuped again and said pitifully, "I'm not always stuffing my face. Maybe you need to look at me more often,"
"Is that what's bothering you? You're feeling neglected?" he asked, gently stroking Loki's rounded cheek. If he was being objective, Tom had to admit he'd not been paying as much attention to his boyfriend as he used to. Filming had intensified and he was gone more and more. In fact, he hadn't even noticed the large amount of weight Loki had truly put on over the last nine or so weeks until just now. His face was much rounder, cheekbones now camouflaged under a layer of fat. His once angular jaw had also softened considerably, and Tom could easily detect a double chin. He allowed his hand to explore Loki's belly and found, though it was hard with all of the food he'd eaten, there was a soft layer of fat covering his gut, as well. He slipped his hands to Loki's sides and gently pinched the god's love handles.
Loki squealed and wrapped his arms protectively around his stretched middle. "It's not enough to ignore me, is it, Thomas? When you finally do pay attention to me, you have to point out that not only am I constantly gorging myself, but I'm fat, as well. I wasn't even this fat when I was pregnant! And I was pregnant with a horse! My belly was smaller when I was pregnant with a horse!" he huffed indignantly, struggling to get up off the couch to no avail. He starting crying fresh tears, lamenting, "No one loves me! I'm too fat to love!"
Tom let him cry, making soothing noises when he thought Loki would be able to hear them. As Loki's sobs quieted, Tom asked, "Do you really think I don't love you?" Tom knew well enough that Loki was very sensitive and, for all his bravado, very insecure. Especially now that he'd gotten so heavy. Tom knew his lover needed reassurance.
"You only pay attention to me after I've eaten too much; then you rub my belly to shut me up," he pouted.
"I don't," Tom protested. "I rub your belly because you're uncomfortable and I hate seeing you in pain! But is that why you've been overeating recently? So I'll pay attention to you?"
Loki sniffed loudly and wiped his nose on Tom's shoulder. "Partly," he admitted feebly.
"Why else?" Tom asked curiously.
"Stupid Thor,"
That elicited a chuckle from Tom. "What about stupid Thor?"
"When we were growing up, Thor always got preferential treatment including access to all the food. I got whatever was left. Odin felt that Thor needed his strength for battle but me, being the weakling, didn't need as much. I was hungry most of the time. I hated that feeling. The feeling of weakness, of subjugation. I swore once I'd rid myself of Odin's tyranny, I'd never feel that way again,"
"So you're making up for lost time?" Tom concluded.
Loki shrugged, absently rubbing his rounded tummy. "I guess,"
"And you've always had control issues that centered around food," Tom reasoned.
Loki thought for a moment, stifling a burp, and nodded. "I guess you could say that. To me, a full belly is control, independence, defiance...a victory over the horrors of my childhood,"
"Oh, Lo," Tom sighed, kissing Loki's belly button, which was now protruding painfully from the mass of food he'd consumed.
Loki burped again, rubbing at his sore organ. "I'm a *hic* hot *hic* mess *hic*,"
"Yea, kinda," Tom admitted with a grin. "But you're my hot mess. I'd actually brought home some barbecue from that place downtown. You feeling up to it?"
Loki wiggled uncomfortably and let out another burp before patting his belly. "Ooooh, I love barbecue," he said, suddenly excited.
"Want me to feed it to you?" Tom asked, wagging his eyebrows.
Loki rested his hands on either side of his belly, now too engorged for him to wrap his arms around it, and smirked, "You'd better. You made me cry, Thomas. Twice,"
Tom fed Loki for what felt, to the god, like hours. Ribs, brisket, rotisserie chicken, pulled pork, cornbread, cole slaw...everything good barbecue should be. As Loki chewed the last piece of meat, sauce smeared all over his face and belly, Tom came in from the kitchen carrying a pile of boxes. "Dessert?" he grinned wickedly.
Loki groaned. He was already stuffed full, uncomfortably stretched to the point of bursting. "*hic* Why, *burp* Thomas?"
"I'm just trying to dote on you," he laughed.
"*burp* Does *hic* dote have a new Midgardian meaning *burp* roughly translating to 'fattening your boyfriend up to the size of a beached whale'? *hic**burp*"
"My gluttonous little god, you surpassed beached whale status before I even walked in the door,"
"*hic* I know *burp*,"
Tom kneeled on the side of the couch again, massaging Loki's belly as hard as he dared without causing him too much pain, encouraging him to burp to make room for the rich desserts he knew were Loki's favorite. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I got you cheesecake," he purred, still rubbing the hot, pink flesh of Loki's dome-like abdomen, delicately tracing the stretch marks that appeared on his newly formed love handles. "You're so sexy. You know that?"
"Really?" Loki whimpered. He'd never felt so incredibly full, but also never so loved. Almost revered.
"Really," Tom solemnly nodded.
Loki cradled his aching belly for a minute before sighing as deeply as he could. "I want dessert, Thomas,"

Tom slowly fed Loki the half dozen cheesecakes he bought over the next several hours, allowing the god to nap in between in a desperate attempt to allow the food to settle. Even when Loki was sleeping, Tom continued to rub his full belly. "Last bite," he encouraged his trickster, whose breathing was now shallow and labored, his lungs compressed in his body by his engorged stomach. Tom wiped his forehead with a cool rag, as he was also sweating profusely.
Loki took the last bite and swallowed the creamy, rich dessert before falling back to the couch with a mighty belch. "I lived up to my end of the bargain, Thomas. Now you *hic* live up to yours. Rub my belly," Loki demanded.
Tom began kneading Loki's sore tummy gingerly, whispering soothing words to him before being unable to resist asking, "Would you mind playing Santa if we host a holiday party? You've got the figure for it. And then after that, we can host a New Years party. You can help me test recipes again,"
Loki just groaned and drifted off to sleep, relishing the relief his human's hands were affording his swollen belly.

@темы: Belly Kink, Loki, The Avengers (Marvel), Tom Hiddleston, Tom Hiddleston/Loki, Кино, Стаффинг, Фанфикшн

12:11 

EvilStufferSebastian
Practice Thanksgiving

Autor: orphan_account

Category: M/M

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)Tom Hiddleston - FandomThor (Movies)

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Loki

Characters: Tom HiddlestonLoki (Marvel)Stuffed!Loki - Character

Additional Tags: Belly KinkBelly RubsStuffingHiccupsBurps

archiveofourown.org/works/2489105?view_adult=tr...

"So what exactly is this ridiculous Midgardian tradition again? 'Tanksgiving'?" Loki asked from his perch on the kitchen counter, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"'Thanksgiving'," Tom corrected as he basted the turkey.
"So what is it?" the god questioned again, swinging his feet like a child.
"Didn't you watch that Peanuts special I gave you?" asked Tom, slightly annoyed.
"Ahhh, yes. 'It's Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown.' Ridiculous," Loki muttered, reluctantly sliding off the counter and off to the living room to watch the cartoon, grumbling the entire way.

He must've fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he awoke to the most wonderful smells filling the house. He decided to go investigate. "You're just in time," Tom said brightly.
"Time? Time for what?" replied Loki, sniffing.
"Dinner," Tom answered, gesturing to the kitchen table, laden with all the traditional fare: stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, corn, sweet potatoes with mini marshmallows, green bean casserole, rolls, cranberry sauce, apple, pecan, and pumpkin pies and, of course, the turkey. "I hope you're hungry,"
"Ravenous," Loki grinned eagerly, taking a seat while Tom just smiled, content to watch his mischievous partner.
Loki ate with gusto, tearing off great chunks of the turkey and eating it with his bare hands. "Loki, you're not meant to eat the entire feast, I don't want you to get sick," Tom said, concerned. Loki dismissed Tom's warning with a wave of his hand and finished the whole of the 12 pound bird, leaned back a bit in his chair and burped.
"Are you alright?" Tom chuckled.
"Why wouldn't I be?" came Loki's irritated response.
Tom crossed to the table and kneeled in front of him, placing a large hand on Loki's already swollen belly. "You just ate a turkey meant for at least six people in less than thirty minutes,"
"So-" *hic* "what?" Loki retorted, sticking his tongue out.
"So...if you need your big belly rubbed, let me know, you greedy thing," he replied, pressing his lips to Loki's. His concern was met with another burp from Loki into Tom's mouth. He just rolled his eyes and took a seat across the table from his lover.
"Thomas, I am perfectly capable of eating all of this...feast...and will do so if I see fit. After all, I am a god, you-"
"So help me, Loki, if you call me a dull creature, I'll punch you in your stuffed gut,"
"I was going to call you a dear creature," Loki replied cooly. "Besides," he continued through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, "I do NOT have a big belly," he pouted.
Tom simply raised an eyebrow to indicate the distended organ, stretched and poking out of Loki's t-shirt already. Loki tugged at the shirt, trying in vain to pull it down over the swell of his protruding abdomen, continuing to eat, making his way through both the sweet and mashed potatoes, stuffing, rolls, gravy, corn, green bean casserole, and cranberry sauce before laying his fork down and squirming uncomfortably, desperately rubbing his bloated belly in search of relief. "*burp* Ooof, Tom. *hic* Help!" he whined.
"What can I do?" Tom cooed soothingly, brushing Loki's sweat-dampened hair from his eyes. He looked at the god's distended gut, clearly visible now that his shirt had ridden up over the swell, and stroked it gently. He quickly undid the button of Loki's jeans and the engorged organ strained the zipper down on its own, Loki whimpering with relief. "Better?"
Loki opened up his mouth to answer and a huge belch escaped his lips. "Unf," he grunted weakly, eyes closed. "*hic* Rub my belly. Make it better *burp*," he pleaded, voice hazy with pain, breathing shallow and labored.
"Do you want to stop? I can take you to bed," Tom offered.
"Can't," came Loki's stubborn response. "Need to have des-*hic*sert first,"
"Loki," Tom began, feeling Loki's belly. It was solid, not a bit of give left to it, and the skin covering it was pink in comparison to the creamy flesh surrounding it. Curious, he put both hands under it to test its weight and let it fall heavily to Loki's thighs. The god hiccuped and burped again, squealing as his gorge sloshed around inside him, wrapping his arms protectively around his swollen middle.
"You're supposed to be making me feel better," he weakly accused.
"I know, I'm sorry. C'mon, Lo...please. Let me help you,"
Loki shook his head as he continued to cradle his aching belly, refusing to let Tom see the tears in his eyes. He felt betrayed at the abuse his human inflected on his tender gut, the act hurting almost as much as his swollen abdomen. Tom sighed and rubbed Loki's back, trying to soothe him. Loki hiccuped again and groaned painfully, rubbing at the side of his stomach. Tom took Loki's hand off his side and firmly dug the heel of his own hand into the spot where the god had been rubbing. Loki's eyes snapped open at the sudden pressure and he inhaled sharply. "Ow!" he yelped loudly before letting out another long burp.
"There's my boy. Better?" Tom asked affectionately.
"Yes," Loki reluctantly admitted. He surveyed what was left on the table with as heavy a sigh as he could manage: three measly pies. Damn his insatiable sweet tooth. "Feed me?"
"Loki, you've had enough," Tom protested.
"Please?" Loki begged.
Tom grumbled something about Loki being as big as a Thanksgiving turkey himself, but reluctantly agreed. He slowly fed his gluttonous god every last forkful of the three pies, stopping every few mouthfuls to rub Loki's still swelling belly. Once he finished the last bite, Loki collapsed in the chair, panting and sweating, struggling to breathe.
Tom kneeled before him again and began to rub Loki's tummy in earnest. It was hot and stretched to the point that it hurt Tom to look at. The carbs and tryptophan took over and Loki slipped into a food coma, softly hiccuping and burping in his sleep occasionally as Tom kneaded his greedy boyfriend's heavy belly, dipping his head to give a kiss to the crest of the swell. He quietly got another chair to put Loki's feet up so he wouldn't be quite so uncomfortable but Loki stirred and opened his eyes. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you but since you're up, you wanna go to bed?" Tom asked.
"Can't. Too full," came Loki's sleepy reply.
"At least move to the couch," he insisted.
Loki glared at Tom and heaved himself forward, using his packed belly to hurtle himself forward. Once fully standing, he stretched, pushing his belly out even further. His boxer briefs left an angry red line under his engorged stomach and Tom helped him step out of them. As much as he'd love to fuck Loki right then, he knew it wasn't the time; he was in far too much pain, his belly jiggling with each painful hiccup. He'd just have to settle for spooning him on the sleeper sofa and cradling his distended gut. He could live with that. Loki moved his hands to the small of his back like a heavily pregnant woman in her ninth month and waddled into the living room, keeping his balance remarkably considering his center of gravity had been so skewed by the huge meal he'd just had. He stood there patiently hugging his stuffed belly while Tom put fresh linens on the pullout, then allowed himself to be gently lowered to the bed. He rolled to his side, his stomach feeling fuller than ever, and Tom snuggled in behind him, cradling Loki's churning middle, gently rubbing slow circles around his belly button, once an innie, now an outie with the feast that was now digesting inside him. "So," Tom whispered.
"Was it good? Can I serve it?"
Loki burped in reply as Tom's rubbing hands continued to soothe his throbbing belly, and promptly drifted off to sleep.

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

03:49 

EvilStufferSebastian
army-magiciansclan.org/forum/15-1956-2


Драко должен был признать, что вывеска не обманула и изделие из молока, сдобренное хорошей порцией сахарного порошка, изготовленное в этом заведении было просто потрясающе. Он съел аж три порции, заметив, что переел только после того, как засунул в рот последнюю ложку. Поттер блаженно откинулся на спинку удобного стула, поглаживая живот и нежась под прохладным воздухом кондиционера.

@темы: Фанфикшн, Стаффинг, Книги, Киноковые отрывки из фанфиков, Кино, Живот, Боль в животе, Stuffing

03:39 

EvilStufferSebastian
magog-83.livejournal.com/23359.html


Fic: Of Shrimp and Stomach Rubs (Merlin/Arthur)



Merlin flopped face first onto the bed and didn’t move. When this failed to wring any sort of reaction from the King, seated at his table and frowning down at a densely written scroll, he tried rolling over onto his back, letting out a loud and heartfelt moan as he did so.

“Kill me now.”

“In a minute,” the heartless King muttered, crossing through a line and scribbling something in the margins of the page.

Merlin poked his head up from the admittedly very comfortable pillows and glared. “I’m dying, Arthur.”

“Then I may as well stay here and let nature take its course.”

Merlin let his head drop back with a soft thump. “Why is this happening to me?”

King Arthur sighed and reached for a fresh quill. “Because you ate enough of that shrimp, or whatever it was, to have killed a lesser man, or certainly one without a bottomless chasm for a stomach.”

Merlin blew a rather pathetic raspberry. “Not my fault, Gwen dared me.”

“I’m sure Guinevere did no such thing.”

“She did, she said she was sure I couldn’t eat another bite.”

The King put down the quill and turned an exasperated look on his ridiculous Court Sorcerer. “A perfectly reasonable suggestion, all things considered. So, what? You were determined to prove her wrong?”

“The honour of Camelot was at stake.”

“I’ll remind you of that when we’re widening the doorway to your chambers.”

“Ugh,” was Merlin’s eloquent reply as he flung one arm across his face. “Come here and massage my stomach.”

“No.”

“But it hurts.”

“I think you’ve forgotten who I am again.”

“You’re my minion.”

“I believe the word you’re searching for is lord and master.”

Merlin let his arm drop back enough to narrow his eyes at the table until scroll, ink, quills and goblet were dancing across the smooth surface and the King was scowling at him. True, they were dancing rather sluggishly, and the goblet had already staggered to a halt and fallen over, where it lay twitching feebly, but Merlin felt his point had been made. “Minion,” he muttered once more for emphasis, and dropped his arm back across his face.

There was a loud scrape as a chair was pushed back, then the King’s voice, sounding cross. “I’m sure Bayard doesn’t have this problem with his High Sorcerer.”

“Bayard’s High Sorcerer doesn’t have my charm and good looks.”

“Hmm,” was the King’s only response to that before Merlin felt the bed dip and seconds later cool air on his stomach as his tunic was pushed up, and warm, calloused hands pressed gently against his skin.

“Mmmm that’s better,” Merlin murmured after a few long moments. His arm fell back to the bedspread and he smiled muzzily at his King. “Can you do my back as well?”

The King poked him in the side, startling an indignant squawk entirely unbecoming of a Court Sorcerer. “No I cannot, and I suggest you think again next time anyone ‘dares’ you to inhale the contents of a feast table.”

“I could just magic it back out,” said Merlin, unperturbed.

“Please don’t, I don’t want to find your intestines in the stables.”

Merlin snorted with laughter, then groaned, clutching his side. “Ow!” He heaved a great sigh. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because I am never eating again.”

“What a shame,” the King said, as he stood up and moved back to the table. “I ordered the kitchen to send the leftover marchpane to my chambers in the morning.”

“Except for marchpane,” Merlin put in very firmly, and the King’s mouth twitched in a hidden smile as he pulled the scroll back towards him and went back to work.

The End

@темы: Стаффинг, Кино, Живот, Боль в животе, Stuffing, Merlin BBC, Fanfiction, Фанфикшн

02:30 

EvilStufferSebastian
archiveofourown.org/works/957423

Belly Achin' series. Part 3.

Name: Softly
Author: ClassyFangirl
Fandom: Pacific Rim (2013)



The thing is, once food is readily available to Newt without him needing to leave the lab (and he is so glad he found where Hermann’s been hiding that stash of junk food), his eating habits don’t exactly improve. They simply move in a different direction- from not eating enough, to perhaps eating a little too much.

Not all the time- only on bad days, when he’s sure he’s this close to making a big breakthrough, if only he could find just what he needed. The stressful days, which, admittedly, are frequent, what with the apocalypse nigh and all. On these days, Newt eats constantly, without really realizing it. Hermann would try to put a stop to it, but, well, the whole point of this was to make sure Newt ate, and with deadlines and war clocks breathing down the backs of their necks, who is he to judge what Newton does to relieve stress? There are far worse things he could be doing, after all.

It’s one of the particularly bad days- Newt is babbling on and on about DNA and bodily acids, and nothing seems to be going well for him. Hermann’s really not sure what he’s talking about, mostly because his own work is not cooperating either, and Newt’s chatter has become background noise he cannot work without.

At some point around noon, Hermann notices that Newt’s talking has been harder to understand than usual. He glances over his shoulder to see Newt wildly gesticulating with a fork in one hand and a cup of microwave noodles in the other. His desk is littered with wrappers and empty cans of disgustingly sugary energy drinks.

“-which is fascinating, scientifically,” Newt continues around a forkful of pasta, “and ideally, in a less immediately doomed world, I’d love to further study how it’d react with other reptilian organs, but nooo, that’s not a viable option at this point in time, Doctor Geiszler-”

Hermann opens his mouth to say something, to try to check up on him, but he just sighs and turns back to his chalkboard. It’s a bad time for both of them, and he can’t guarantee that anything he said wouldn’t lead to a shouting match that would just further distract them from their work.

Hours pass, and around dinnertime, Hermann sighs and puts down his stick of chalk. “Newton,” he says. “I’m going to eat dinner. Would you care to join me?”

“-and while the kaiju on the whole bears more of a similarity to a reptile, kinda like an, an iguana, the acid sacs are a lot like those of poisonous frogs- what?” He glances up from his work, half a Poptart hanging out of his mouth. “What’d you say, Hermann?”

The mess has only grown since Hermann last checked. Half empty bags of chips have spilled some of their contents onto the floor, surrounded by forlorn Twinkie wrappers. It is almost horrifying to think a man that size can eat that much. Hermann finds himself wishing it was just a mess of kaiju parts; at least then he’d know Newt was having a productive day.

“Hellooo? Earth to Hermann, come in Hermann? What’s up, man?”

“I was...I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to the mess hall for dinner,” he said. “But you look...quite occupied.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, definitely- man, I am crazy busy right now, and it’s okay, I’ve got...” He waves the Poptart in the air. “So, y’know, you go on down- I’ll totally make it up to you tomorrow, we’ll get nice healthy dinners the way you like, ‘kay?” Newt smiles at him, and it only adds to his frazzled, mad scientist appearance.

Hermann purses his lips and looks at his...what? They’ve yet to find a term they can agree on- Newt has no problem with boyfriend but Hermann finds it ridiculous for two men their age, neither can stand lover, and partner sounds too formal. He looks at him, and says, “Newton, are you...all right?”

Newt waves him off breezily. “Totally, dude! Just, just busy, you know how it is. Go! Go have dinner, I’ll see ya later.”

Hermann hesitates before sighing and walking off. There’s not very much he can do when Newt is like this, hyped up on sugar, caffeine, stress, and his own brain. It’s better to just let him go.

Hermann can only get through half of his dinner before muttering, “Oh, hell,” and heading back to the lab. He plans to just finish eating there, where he can at least keep an eye on Newton and, if he’s being honest with himself, fuss over him up close.

When he returns to the lab, however, he does not see Newt standing at his desk where he left him. For one sharp, ugly moment, Hermann’s heart starts to pound. “Newton?” he calls.

“Oh- over here, Hermann,” a weak voice responds. Hermann quickly shuffles over to where it came from, and finds Newt lying on the old, ugly couch they keep near the back of the lab. Newt gives him a shaky smile. “Sorry, man- I’m, uh, not feelin’ too hot.”

Hermann glances down to see that Newt’s tight jeans are unzipped and unbuttoned, and the last few buttons towards the bottom of his shirt are undone. His stomach, looking larger than usual, sags significantly, and his tattoos look especially stretched. Newt wriggles, uncharacteristically embarrassed, under Hermann’s gaze. Quite out of the ordinary- Newt exudes self-confidence constantly, and even what little uncertainty he felt about the pudge of his stomach was more or less relieved by Hermann’s appreciation for it. Newt must truly be uncomfortable to be this shy about his appearance.

Hermann sets his tray of food down on his desk (to hell with it, the lab’s a disastrous mess already- they’ll clean it all tomorrow). He sits down on the couch, Newt moving his legs out of the way and then swinging them back over Hermann’s lap. “What’s wrong, darling?” he asks quietly.

Newt’s cheeks are pink with embarrassment. “I’m, uh. Stomachache, I guess.”

Hermann rolls his eyes, but without any genuine annoyance. “That’s what you get for eating so much, you bloody fool,” he says. He sighs and pats Newt’s leg. “Get up. We’re going to my room.”

“Aw, Hermann, come on, I don’t-”

“Come now. I will not care for you here, with the lab in this dreadful state. My room isn’t far, I’m sure you can manage.”

Newt sighs with great melodrama and stands. Hermann follows, takes Newt’s arm, and leads him down the hall to his room.

There, he shuts the door behind them and turns to Newton. “Strip down,” he says.

Newt groans. “Hermann, babe, not that I don’t appreciate you and your rockin’ bod, and at literally any other time I would be down, I am so not feeling sexy right now.”

“I never said anything about sex,” Hermann says primly. “You’ll just be more comfortable that way. Come on.”

He looks surprisingly hesitant. “Okay, see, I know you dig the chub and all, but it’s- it’s not pretty, all right, I’m all...bloated, and, and gross.”

“Newton,” he says softly. “I adore every inch of you, bloated and ‘gross’ or not. Take your bloody clothes off so I can take care of you.”

Newt finally obeys, removing his tie and kicking off his shoes and socks. Hermann takes his sweater, shirt, and trousers off, leaving him in his underclothes while Newt finishes unbuttoning his shirt and pulls his jeans and boxers down.

“Lie down, darling,” Hermann says, and they both ease themselves down onto the bed. Hermann gently rests his palm on the swell of Newt’s stomach. Newt whimpers quietly- the man’s so sore even the slightest touch pains him. “Poor dear,” Hermann murmurs, rubbing his hand in a circle around Newt’s belly. “Poor, poor dear. I’ll look after you, darling.”

Newt whines quietly when he adds too much pressure, so Hermann backs off a touch, rubbing in soft, soft circles until Newt’s pained noises turn contented. “Hermann,” he murmurs, wrapping his hand around Hermann’s free wrist. “Th-thanks.”

Hermann allows himself a small smile. He presses a kiss to Newt’s forehead. “Of course, love.”

@темы: Bloated Tummy, Belly Kink, Фанфикшн, Стаффинг, Кино, Живот, Боль в животе, Tummyache, Stuffing, Fanfiction

23:51 

EvilStufferSebastian
archiveofourown.org/works/2830484/chapters/6350...

Father Christmas Isn't Fit
Aris_Silverfin, FatlocknDomJohn
Summary:

A bit of fun, fluffy, kinky, hot Christmas cheer for all you lovely folks. Happy holidays!

Sherlock hates Christmas and John sets out to find out why. The doctor goes to great lengths to get Sherlock into the Christmas spirit and past his childhood disappointment. There's just one small snag with John's plan: Father Christmas isn't fit.
But surely, that can be fixed with a little wintertime indulgence...

Notes:

Sherlock played by FatlocknDomJohn

John by Aris_Silverfin

Explicit kinky sex to come in next chapter.

Chapter 1
Chapter Text

Ginger.

The entire flat reeked of ginger.

Sherlock hurried down the stairs of 221b, having been hiding away in his Mind Palace for the past several hours, finding everything to be...

Cheery.

The detective frowned, noting the pine tree strewn with lights in the small living room, bows and tinsel covering damn-near everything in sight, and that horrible smell of Christmas cookies wafting from the kitchen.

"John! What is the meaning of all this?! We've been dating two years, you know I despise anything related to this awful holiday!" The curly haired skeleton growled, stomping toward the kitchen.



"Yeah I know, I happen to love it though. Call this a compromise," John called back, just pulling a batch of freshly baked gingerbread from the oven and setting it out to cool. He slipped off his oven mitts and chuckled. "Just be thankful there isn't any Christmas music on too."

John did wonder why Sherlock was so infuriated when it came to Christmas. Hardly anyone seemed capable of detesting a holiday full of sweets, warm cozy lights, and gifts. Maybe he'd always deduced all his presents and ruined the surprise. He prodded one of the gingerbread men, testing the temperature and then picking it up to take a bite. Needed to taste test after all.

"Want one, Scrooge?" John teased. "Though I expect they'll be better when they're cooled and iced properly."



Sherlock simply pouted further, and continued,"It's a foolish holiday full of lies perpetrated by foolish parents and stupid elder siblings."

He frowned, crossing his arms, turning his head away from the treat.

"I'll be on the sofa, re-organizing my ash samples. If you need me - don't need me," he spat out, stomping over to the sofa and settling into a deep sulk.



"Full of lies? What are you on about?" asked John, raising his eyebrows. Then he had a suspicion. Was this to do with? No... not Sherlock. That would be-oh.

John grabbed his jacket and shoes, pulled on a hat. "I'm heading out to the shops for a bit. Be right back."



Sherlock simply grumbled, turning to face the back of the sofa.



John returned a half hour later, his purchase in a brown paper bag. He hesitated a moment, pondering. No, better not to give Sherlock even a chance to deduce what he was doing before he revealed the surprise. He ducked into Mrs. Hudson's and changed, pulling a pair of baggy red trousers up over his jeans and stepping into black boots. He slung on the roomy red and white coat and did it up. Maybe he should have gotten it a size down, but that hadn't seemed to fit his muscular shoulders properly. He pulled on a white fluffy beard and pulled the hat onto his head. He looked absolutely ridiculous, John thought, pulling on black gloves as well. Still, if it got a smile out of Sherlock...

He tramped up the stairs and pushed the door open. Well. Best to go all in. He let out a resounding jolly laugh.

"Ho, ho, hoooo!"



Sherlock bolted up, looking around desperately for the sound. He hurried to the back hall and- No. No it-

For a moment, for one brief, shining moment Sherlock beamed. His normally sharp, angry eyes went soft, smile wide and inviting, arms instantly opening for a hug, a small, happy laugh escaping his throat.

Then he froze, frowning, crossing his arms.

"Th-that wasn't funny, John" Sherlock said, frowning softly, looking away.



"I'm... I'm sorry, love. I wasn't trying to be funny. Come on, talk to me, what's the matter?" John asked, reaching out to grab Sherlock's forearm gently.



Sherlock tried to tug away, then simply latched onto his lover, resting his cheek atop the man's cap.

"I... Mummy and Mycroft never explained away Father Christmas. I thought I understood the logic behind it... and then one year," Sherlock sighed, "I made a big show of what he'd brought me in school. I don't remember what year, but I was much too old to be believing in him, I'm sure. They..." Sherlock cleared his throat, escaping John's arms.

"Children can be quite cruel," he concluded, slipping away into the living room, sitting on the sofa and hugging a pillow.



"They can be," John agreed, frowning and feeling sad for poor little Sherlock being mocked for still believing in Father Christmas when all the others had had that snatched away from them.

John moved over to the sofa again and sat down beside his lover, rubbing Sherlock's back gently. He pulled down the beard so he could speak properly.

"Harry told me when I was really young. I'd broken something of hers and she was feeling spiteful," explained John with a dry chuckle. He put his hat onto Sherlock's head.

"You should have seen your face though, you looked so happy, love," John murmured, grinning and leaning into his lover, "I didn't get it all the way wrong then..."



Sherlock gave a soft smile, accepting his John's warmth, laughing as the hat covered his curls.

"No it was...nice of you. Thoughtful. Father Christmas isn't fit though," Sherlock giggled, his fingers tickling at the doctor's six-pack abs beneath his red suit.



John chuckled as Sherlock's fingers tickled him, squirming away slightly.

"No, you're right about that," he admitted, kissing his lover's cheek, "His belly's supposed to be all round and jolly isn't it?" He settled into Sherlock, just relaxing and thinking. The thought formed without John even realizing where it had come from.

"Oh, bugger, almost forgot about the gingerbread. They'll need icing." He stood and stripped off the rest of his costume, then went to the kitchen. He stood before the large tray of undecorated gingerbread. He looked down at his middle, prodded the muscles, then ate each and every one of the cookies before him as he iced them, his stomach protesting and gurgling by the time the next batch had been baked.

It could work. He could afford a few pounds and then lose them again. And if it made Sherlock happy and enjoy Christmas again... well. John could most certainly throw himself into the role.

For the next two weeks, John stuffed himself to bursting on Christmas cookies, hot chocolate, thick hearty stews, and other heavy dishes. He took seconds at every opportunity, groaning as he left the table with his middle distended. He spent his days at the surgery snacking on a variety of things in between clients. His stomach felt almost constantly tight and full. Still, he didn't seem to be gaining very quickly. He took to drinking calorie rich shakes on the way home, taking cabs more often to save on the calories he burned.

Well, if there was anytime to get fat, it was the holidays. And Mrs. Hudson only seemed happy to help, loading John's arms with mountains of home made fudge, peppermint bark, sweets, and cookies as well. And John would plow through as many as he could before he felt too sick and stuffed to continue. His capacity was improving though as time went on. As was his appetite. His trousers definitely were not growing however as they began to bite his softened hips quite persistently, pinch the soft skin gathering under his navel. John switched to his roomier pairs but even those needed to be unbuttoned after dinner.

At least his jumpers did a rather good job of disguising just how much he was eating. Still, at the end of the day, there was a definite roundness as he looked down. It was oddly fascinating, especially in the shower where John was used to looking down and finding washboard abs. Now he just found a rather soft round butterball of belly with a deep navel dimpling the furthermost arc.

He worried sometimes that Sherlock would notice as they laid in bed together, but the detective didn't seem any less enthusiastic. John was careful however not to press up against him too closely, especially if he had eaten a lot during the day. He missed him though. But he told himself it would all be worth it. Even if he had to suck in his gut every time he walked past his lover.



Two weeks had indeed passed since the couple's "Father Christmas" talk, and Sherlock was concerned. There was still a bit until Christmas, but John seemed... distant.

He seemed nervous about touching the detective. Oh kisses and compliments occurred just as frequently as ever, but hugs seemed shorter, and whenever they made love Sherlock was too overwhelmed with just how amazing it was to be touching his John to notice the man's climbing weight, online cases keeping him too busy in any other regard.

Today, Sherlock would bring up... whatever had happened. The detective marched into the kitchen.

"John is everything al... right?" Sherlock's eyes went wide, mouth dry. He swallowed.



John swallowed too, then quickly straightened up and pulled his bathrobe around himself more closely, worried that Sherlock might have caught a glimpse of the growing belly that was peeking out between his pajamas. He had just eaten rather a lot of cookie dough. Again...

"Er, just in time, I wanted to try this pfeffernus recipe, want to taste one while they're hot?" asked John innocently. Not that they really needed more cookies. He muffled a burp and tried to suck in his stomach further, but it was far too full to compress very much.



Sherlock shook his head. That...that couldnt have been right. No. That...

Sherlock stored the image away, telling himself he'd go over it later.

"I...well," Sherlock accepted the sweet treat, he hadn't had Christmas cookies in... The flavor exploded in his mouth, and Sherlock gave a wide, happy smile, letting out a soft moan. The detective blushed, coughing lightly.

"They're... good," he noted.



"Good," said John, smiling and popping one into his own mouth, his slightly softened jawline shifting with his chewing motions. "There's plenty to go around. I was about to make tea. "

He reached over to put the kettle on and then stepped up on tiptoe to get the mugs and tea bags out of the cupboards, the knot on his robe riding up over his belly as it pressed out onto the counter. John quickly righted himself again and set about making tea.

"And Mrs. Hudson came by with treacle. I think I might have some of that, myself," he continued, fetching it and setting everything out on the table. He ought to have quite a lot of it actually, and whipped cream. Loads of it. Christmas was only getting closer. He brought the teas over and sat with a sigh, his belly rounding out under his robe and pooching onto his thighs ever so slightly. He served himself a hefty portion and doused the sticky dessert in whipped cream before tucking in.

"Any cases on?" he asked conversationally.



Sherlock tried to work out exactly what was happening with his trim, fit, muscled, partner. John couldn't have put on weight... no. No, his workouts were too frequent. He felt something inside him soften at all the treats, shrugging off any negative feelings toward the holiday and scooping extra sugar and cream into his tea, nabbing a small plate of cookies, setting the larger tray in between them and munching away.

"Just as many online cases as I can take, murder always seems to go down around this awful holiday, and I've barely heard from Lestrade. I do believe my brother has finally decided to court the man," he tried to grumble, but he hummed and smiled around a mouthful of cookie.



"Even criminals get in the holiday spirit, eh?" chuckled John, eating steadily and sighing as he set about filling his stomach again. He did a double take.

'What? The two of them are together?" he asked, chuckling, "Oh, that's rather sweet though..."

So was this treacle. God, how much toffee was in this sticky thing?

He cut himself another piece and flooded it with whipped cream again as casually as he could muster. He sipped his tea and then dove back in, his stomach feeling heavier already with the rich dessert. He swiped up a bit of whipped cream with one of the other cookies and ate it thoughtfully.

"Good your keeping busy though. Surgery's been rather slow lately." John wasn't exactly complaining. That meant he had more time to eat at his desk during the day. He muffled a burp and shifted back a little to take some pressure off his stomach which was now definitely pushing onto his thighs and out from under his shirt. Luckily the robe was still covering him completely. Though it was feeling bothersome and tight. He pushed the band down a bit, willing to risk it with a table between the two of them.



"Well that's good to hear, though I don't know why you hang on to that terrible job," Sherlock teased, rising to get a second cup of tea, "And yes! Greg has known Mycroft almost as long as he's known me, and my brother has held quite the crush on him since their very first meeting. Of course what with Greg's marriage and subsequent divorce, I assume my brother was just...just giving Greg a little...time"

Sherlock swallowed heavily after turning back toward the table.

From this angle it looked as if John had...

The trim, fit soldier looked positively fat. The detective felt color rise to his cheeks. Of course, it couldn't be true. Just the angle at which John was sitting, the amount of tea sloshing about in that... that gut. Sherlock coughed lightly, moving to settle back down at the table and crossing his legs. Why was the thought of such a heavier John so... arousing? He sipped at his tea, his color returning to normal.

"I took the liberty of inviting Greg over for Christmas, I assumed it was alright with you," Sherlock smiled, "I should've checked, though, did you want Harry coming? I know things are still a bit rough in her social life"



John had sucked in his breath a bit as Sherlock moved. Now he relaxed, trying to be as discrete about it as he could, his belly rounding up against his robe yet again.

"Oh, yeah. We can try. And Yeah... Greg could come," said John, feeling slightly concerned. Well... he could surprise Sherlock in the morning then. The others were bound to notice. Harry would have a field day if she came and saw her brother gone all soft like this.

He sipped more of his tea and reached for more cookies. He had to get himself properly stuffed. Then he could lay around until dinner and then eat all he could again. He cut a third smaller piece of treacle even as his belly gurgled.



"I was hoping so, I don't really see any of them having anywhere to spend the holiday, Mrs. Hudson insisted on cooking, so she's got a week to prepare just about every recipe she knows," Sherlock chuckled, then stood, crossing to his boyfriend and kissing the man's forehead.

"And they won't be over until the evening of the 25th, so the night of the 24th we can put out cookies and see if Father Christmas shows up," he joked, pouring John another cup of tea, then stuffing a few more cookies into his mouth.

Sherlock prodded his own stomach lightly as he walked toward the living room to answer a few more cases, finding just a touch of softness there, perhaps more than a touch. John's stews seemed to be having an effect. But wasn't holiday weight normal? Sherlock popped another cookie into his mouth as he settled down with his laptop. Perhaps Christmas wasnt so terrible after all.



"Sounds good," said John grinning, "Maybe the cookies you put out weren't his favorite so he was full by the time he came to your house."

He chuckled and carved out another piece of treacle after Sherlock left. His eyes fluttered closed as his stomach groaned. He forced it down however, rubbing idly at the side of the round ball of fat his abs had become. He let out the softest groan, then finished his tea.

"I'm going to go lay down a bit," John called, as he waddled to their bedroom and flopped down. He massaged his belly, marveling at how tight the skin felt, how much it arched up under his chest. He grabbed a handful, jiggled it a bit. His finger slipped into his navel and drew small circles. John's breathing grew rough and uneven, the weight on his midsection somehow... God...

He reached down and lazily began stroking his cock with one hand while the other circled his overfull stomach slowly.

Five more days.

And John would make full use of each one.

Christmas Eve's dinner was a rather elaborate fare, John trying to swallow down every calorie he could muster before the next morning. And eating a lot at Christmas was expected so John went completely to town. There was a huge honeyed ham, mashed potatoes mixed with cream and butter, gravy with more cream in it, vegetables doused in butter, beer, and of course a monstrous rice pudding for dessert.

John was hiccuping by the end of it, his stomach clearly outlined by even his loosest jumper, his trousers biting him even with the button undone. John groaned and pressed a hand to his middle, grimacing, his breath coming out rather shallowly.

He did his best to sit up normally.

"W-want to watch a movie? Or just get to bed?" he asked, tugging his jumper down over his massively bloated middle.



Sherlock sat on the couch, hiccuping and giggling around a full, positively plump looking belly full of much too much eggnog, the alcohol loosening up the detective's stomach enough for him to finish off not two but three plates of cookies after dinner.

"Jaawwwn!" He laughed, extending his arms out to his partner, willing him to leave his chair and snuggle with the detective.

"Is Chismas," he giggled.



"Hurp-yes it is, love," John said, grinning and pulling Sherlock in to kiss him. Christ... he didn't know if he could move...

"Oh, hang on, we should leave the cookies out for Father Christmas," said John, hauling himself up with the help of the table and his lover. He managed not to groan too badly as his stomach sagged down. At least Sherlock was drunk.



Sherlock toppled into laying on the sofa as John stumbled up, too drunk to pull back his lean.

"Mer kissmas," he giggled, yawning sleepily, then blinked, hurrying up and following John to the kitchen.

"Y-yes! Fath kismash haz to come, I wanted... what did I want?" Sherlock asked, slumping into his lover, rubbing his cheek against the doctor's sandy hair

"You smell gud, like cookies," he babbled, giggling.



John chuckled and reached behind him to pat him softly.

"You want to leave out Father Christmas's favorite cookies so he'll come visit and bring you a present," John reminded him, smiling at his lover. He fetched a plate and laid several cookies out neatly on the dish.

"How's that look?"

Then they should probably get to bed with Sherlock being in the state he was, John thought warmly. He gave the detective a quick side-armed hug and then waddled his way to the fireplace to set the cookies down.



Sherlock followed like an excited, drunken puppy, looking over the plate carefully. He drew a hand to his chin, stroking it over-dramatically. The detective swapped two cookies, the took John's hand gently, part of his brain noting just how... soft it felt.

"We gotta goto bed...Father Chris*hic*christmas iz coming," he smiled, tugging John towards their bedroom.



John smiled and followed after. He collapsed with a low groan and wriggled out of his clothing. He hoped Sherlock's drunkenness would also mean that the man would be liable to sleep in.

@темы: Sherlock BBC, Stuffing, Weight gain, Кино, Фанфикшн

22:22 

EvilStufferSebastian
[fic] In which Loki picks a fight with the Warriors Three
Title: In which Loki picks a fight with the Warriors Three

Author: kiyala
Fandom: Thor
Pairings: Thor/Loki
Rating: R
Warning: contains bullying, humiliation, dub-con and watersports
Notes: Written for kink bingo, kink: watersports

I have never written anything like this before and it is so far out of my comfort zone, I have no idea if I even did it right.

shannys-corner.livejournal.com/108807.html


Loki hates his brother’s friends. He hates their stupidity, the way they value nothing more than fighting, drinking, eating and boasting. He hates the way they act without thought, and he hates the way they tease him.

Fandral and Volstagg have dragged Thor and Loki into one of the dens and have placed a keg of ale before them.

“Today, you are both going to learn to drink like men,” Fandral says with a grin. The princes of Asgard are still in their teens, and it seems that the Warriors Three have taken it upon themselves to broaden their horizons. Loki is not interested.

“Ale dulls the senses,” he points out, making sure he sounds as bored as he can possibly manage. “I have no interest in drinking, so if you will excuse me—”

“Oh, of course. You don’t need to concern yourself with acting manly,” Volstagg replies with a smirk. “You are the one who hides in trickery and runs from fights. No, it’s probably best that you leave the men to their drinks. Off you go, little princess.”

The three of them laugh and, Loki notices with irritation that Thor does too, even if he quickly makes an effort to stifle it.

“My friends, leave him be. If my brother doesn’t wish to drink with us, then he doesn’t need to. More ale for the rest of us, don’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes,” Loki says bitterly, getting to his feet. “I do hope you enjoy all of that ale.”

He waves a hand towards the keg and gives all four men a cold look before turning to leave.

“Hey!” Fandral cries, opening it. “He’s turned it to water!”

“He’s used his little magic tricks!” Volstagg looks up at Loki with a frown. “You fool, that was the best ale we could find!”

“I suppose you’ll have to search harder, next time,” Loki retorts.

“I’ll get some more,” Thor announces, standing. He looks at Loki, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please, they only meant well. You’ll apologise to them, won’t you?”

Thor jogs out of the door before he can hear Loki’s answering laugh.

“You heard your brother,” Volstagg says, his large form blocking the door, arms folded across his expansive chest. “You aren’t leaving here without giving us an apology.”

Loki mimics Volstagg’s pose, arms folded across his own chest. “Then I suppose I’ll be staying here.”

“Wait a minute,” Hogun speaks up, giving Loki a long, considering look. His lips curve into a smile that sets Loki on edge. “I have an idea.”






By the time Thor returns with a large barrel in one hand, Loki has decided that he really hates his brother’s friends.

“Come on, little sorcerer, drink it all up,” Fandral laughs. Volstagg is holding Loki still and Hogun is holding Loki’s nose shut, forcing him to drink.

“Stop it,” Loki gasps, his face and the front of his clothes wet from the water they are forcing him to drink. “Enough.”

“There’s still some left in the keg,” Fandral says, shaking it and holding it up to force Loki to drink more.

“What are you doing?” Thor speaks up, and the three of them let go of Loki immediately. He falls to the floor, coughing and sputtering, wiping angrily at his mouth.

“Ah, Thor, we were just…” Volstagg begins, trailing off as he meets Thor’s angry eyes.

“We were teaching him a lesson,” Hogun answers.

Thor looks at Loki, who is standing with a hand resting on his stomach, bloated with water.

“Out of my way,” Loki mutters, pushing past Fandral and walking out of the door.

“Leave him,” Thor says, when Volstagg takes a step forward to restrain Loki. Putting the barrel of ale down, he turns to follow his brother.

Loki is interested in one thing at the moment, and that is to find a bathroom. When Thor grabs his arm, he hisses angrily, batting at him.

“I don’t need you to rescue me,” he spits, struggling against his brother’s superior strength as he is dragged into Thor’s room.

“I never said anything about rescuing you,” Thor replies, kicking the door shut and pressing Loki to the wall of his chambers. “What you did to that ale was unnecessary, and I’m sure I told you to apologise.”

“I would never apologise to your friends,” Loki hisses. “Arrogant swine, all of them. I have no interest in associating with them—”

“Brother, remember that you are talking about my friends,” Thor says, emphasising his last word by pressing his palm to Loki’s stomach.

Loki makes a sound of discomfort, trying to press himself against the wall even more to escape Thor’s touch. He grips Thor’s wrist firmly. “Do not do that. Not right now.”

“What’s the matter, Loki?” Thor murmurs, his lips against Loki’s neck, pressing feather light kisses along his brother’s jaw, “I thought you liked it when I touched you.”

“Not now, you imbecile,” Loki gasps as Thor’s hand palms his cock through his clothes. “Right now, I must—”

“I know,” Thor smiles. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it? Having one thing planned, but then having someone else ruin that and get in your way?”

“If you’re angry about the ale—”

“Not just the ale today, Loki, but every single time you don’t like what we’re doing. I know you dislike my friends, but you’re always with us anyway. If you aren’t having fun, there’s no need to ruin ours. I don’t understand—”

“You don’t understand anything,” Loki snaps bitterly. His hands are on Thor’s wrists, torn between helping him undo Loki’s pants, or just pushing him away. “You idiot, you big, stupid—”

Thor silences him with a kiss, pushing Loki’s pants out of the way so he can wrap a hand around Loki’s cock. It’s already half hard, and Loki hisses as it is stroked.

“You aren’t helping,” Loki’s voice trembles slightly. His eyes are wet and his teeth are clenched, his entire body tense as he struggles to control himself. “You—ngh—you’re making this so much worse. Please, Thor. Please, please…”

“Do you want me to let you go?” Thor’s hand stills, and that just feels worse.

“No. No, just—” Loki squeezes his eyes shut, not caring that he feels a tear escape from the corner of his left eye. He doesn’t know what he wants, because his mind is a mess and his body just needs release, one way or another.

“You should see yourself,” Thor says, sounding so reverent that Loki thinks that perhaps he can forgive his brother. In a few weeks. Thor thumbs at Loki’s slit, and Loki’s head makes a loud sound as it bangs against the wall.

“Thor,” he cries, hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he lets go. He keeps his eyes shut as he wets himself, wets Thor, tears of humiliation running down his cheeks. His cock twitches, still hard despite the humiliation (or perhaps because of it, his mind supplies) and he’s unsure who he addresses when he whispers, “I hate you.”

Thor, when Loki finally opens his eyes again, has the good grace to look apologetic. He touches Loki’s shoulder gently, waiting to make sure he won’t be shrugged off before pulling Loki away from the wall. They ignore the mess on the floor and Thor places a hand on Loki’s back, leading him to the royal bathroom that they share.

“I’ll bathe with you,” he offers quietly, watching Loki hopefully.

Loki snorts, shaking his head as he disrobes, pulling drenched cloth away from his skin and looking over his shoulder at Thor. “You’ll need to do far more than that this time. But it’s a start.”

@темы: Кино, Thor, The Avengers (Marvel), Stuffing, Loki, Фанфикшн

22:13 

EvilStufferSebastian
Stress Cannot Exist in the Presence of Pie
By: sublime42
My attempt at filling this prompt from norsekink: People are always commenting to Thor about how skinny his brother is, and how he never eats, and how unhealthy that must be. So one day Thor drags Loki off to their rooms and force-feeds him until he is absolutely stuffed. And then rubs Loki's bloated stomach afterwards. Do not read if you're not into the FA/WG genre.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort - Thor, Loki - Words: 2,533 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 3 - Published: Jul 18, 2013 - Status: Complete - id: 9502206

www.fanfiction.net/s/9502206/1/Stress-Cannot-Ex...






Odin had thrown another massive feast, a celebration of Asgard's victory over another, smaller realm that had attempted to wage war.

They hadn't gotten very far - Asgard's warriors crushed their opponents within mere hours.

Everyone seemed to be in good spirits.

Thor sat near his friends, Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun, all of them enjoying the food.

"This meat is delicious," Volstagg remarked, taking a huge bite out of the drumstick he was holding.

"The royal chefs have outdone themselves."

"Aye, they have," Thor agreed.The staff really had gone all out, making five types of meat, three types of bread, along with several hearty vegetable dishes and soups.

There was more than enough food for everyone at the banquet to have at least four or five helpings.

"It's a wonder how your brother stays so thin," Hogun said, he himself finishing off a large bowl of beef stew.

The group glanced over at Loki, who was sitting at another table nearly alone.

He had a plate in front of him with a small piece of bread and a very small piece of meat, both of which he occasionally picked at.

Thor sighed. He had invited Loki to join his table, but Loki had refused. He seemed to prefer to be alone.

"Perhaps he is ill?" Fandral suggested, "He seems awfully pale lately."

Fandral's words broke Thor's train of thought.

"Hm? Oh, I do not believe he is ill."

"I'm not so sure," Volstagg said, reaching for another drumstick, "He seems to get smaller each time we see him.

You ought to watch him, make sure he's alright."

Thor nodded in agreement. He had heard all of this before.

Loki never really ate much, not even when he was a child, but lately it seemed as though he was barely eating at all.

There were other changes as well. Loki seemed to be more moody, if that were at all possible, and he became tired more frequently.

The blonde looked at his brother again.

Loki glared at him in response.

It was then that Thor began to wonder if perhaps Volstagg and Fandral were right. Perhaps something really was wrong with Loki.

And, being Loki's older brother, it would be wrong of Thor not to intervene! But how to do it...

Then Thor had an idea. It would have to wait until later in the evening, though.

After the feast had ended Loki returned to his room, likely wanting to study some of his texts of magic.

Thor, meanwhile, had made his way down to the kitchens.

The cooks were busy cleaning up from the evening's event, but they were happy to make up a meal for their prince.

They placed several large pieces of meat on a tray, along with an entire loaf of bread. They loaded another plate with various desserts – slices of cakes and pies and a giant bowl of chocolate pudding.

"Is this enough?" one of the cooks – a small, older man asked.Thor looked at the tray. The cook had managed to stack the numerous plates very skillfully.

"Aye, this is perfect. Thank you." The cook smiled and nodded, "It is no problem at all, your highness! I hope that you enjoy it."


Thor exited the kitchens and entered the main hallway. Loki's room was further down, not far from his own. He arrived at his younger brother's door soon enough.

"Loki?" he called out, knocking on the door.

Yes?" an impatient voice asked.

"It is Thor. May I come in?"

Loki sighed. "Fine." The younger prince opened the door using his magic, and Thor walked inside.

Loki was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading a rather large book. He looked up when he heard Thor enter.

"Got yourself a midnight snack?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over the tray in Thor's hand.

"It is not for me."

"No? Did Volstagg make you bring him food, then? I know how much he loves to stuff his face," Loki smirked.

"It is not for Volstagg, either."

Now Loki was confused. "Who is it for, then?"

"It is for you," Thor answered. "You did not each much at the feast, so I brought you some food."

"Really?" Loki asked, rolling his eyes. "You truly had nothing better to do than to bother me with this?"

Thor frowned. "You do not look well lately," he said, "You have lost weight, and you always seem tired. Myself and our friends are concerned for your health."

"Our friends?" Loki laughed, "You mean your friends, Thor. I have no idea why they are concerned, either. I am sure that they, among many others, would be most pleased if I were to wither up and die."

"That is not true," Thor said, seriously. "No one would be happy if that were to happen. I, for one, would miss you greatly."

"Right," Loki replied, clearly not believing what Thor had said, "Well thanks for your concern but I'm really not hungry and I've got much work to do. You may leave, now." He turned his attention back to his book, expecting Thor to get up and leave, but Thor didn't budge.

After several awkward seconds, Loki cleared his throat.

"I said, you may leave now," he repeated.

Thor shook his head. "I am not leaving until you eat."

"I told you, I am not hungry." Loki was beginning to get annoyed. "Are you so dense that you cannot understand this simple statement?"

"I do not care whether or not you are hungry. I am not going to leave until you eat."

Loki took a deep breath. "You're making this hard on yourself, Thor. If you do not leave on your own, I will use my magic to make you leave."

Thor could see green sparks already forming near Loki's fingers. It didn't frighten him, though.

"Do you think that mother and father would look kindly upon that? You, using your magic to harm your brother, who was only trying to take care of you? Need I remind you that you are already on thin ice, what with the whole Ári incident."

Loki scowled. He knew that Thor was right. Recently he had become angry at Ári, who happened to be Odin's favorite guard. He had used his magic to turn him into a two-headed donkey. Odin and Frigga were not pleased, to say the least.

"...Fine," Loki finally agreed, the magic dissipating from his hands.

Thor couldn't help but grin.

"Great! Perhaps we should move to the table, then."

Loki rolled his eyes again, but did get up to follow Thor over. He had a little table that he usually used as a place to write down notes for spells, but it would suffice as a place to eat for now. He watched as Thor took the covers off of several of the plates on the tray, only then noticing how much food there was. He summoned a pitcher of water and a glass from the other end of the room. He would need it, it seemed.

"Now, what would you like to start with?" Thor asked, picking up a fork.

"Ugh. The boar, I suppose."

Thor nodded and began cutting up a large piece of boar meat for his brother. When he finished, he stabbed a piece of it with the fork and held it up to Loki's mouth.

"I can feed myself, you know!", Loki sneered, trying to snatch the utensil from Thor.

Thor was quick to move his hand.

"I want to help you, little brother," he said, grinning again. "Let me feed you.

"Oh there is no way -" Loki started, but Thor cut him off.

"Or, I could tell mother what really happened to her favorite gardens."


Loki glared at Thor. Damn his brother, having so much to blackmail him with! He hadn't even meant to to give the flowers consciousness! It had been a spell gone wrong. Thankfully, he had managed to banish the flowers – who seemed to be hungry for Aesir flesh, for some reason – to another realm before anyone noticed. Anyone but Thor, that was.

"I hate you," Loki said, right before opening his mouth.

Thor began to feed Loki, slowly finishing the entire cut of meat.

Are you happy now?" Loki asked, after finishing the last bite.

"No. There is still much more to go."

Thor held up the glass of water to give Loki a drink, then began cutting up another piece of meat. When he was done, he ripped the loaf of bread in half.

"Which would you prefer?"

"The bread."

Loki was giving him his best 'I will get you back for this' look, but Thor chose to ignore it. Instead he focused on feeding Loki pieces of bread until the entire half of the loaf was gone.

They moved back to meat after that. Thor cut up and fed Loki two more pieces of it, giving Loki water whenever he asked for it.

"I'm really not hungry anymore," Loki said, finishing the last bite.

Thor shook his head, "You are far too thin, brother. You must eat some more."

"I've eaten enough," Loki argued, "I want to go back to studying!"

"Fine," Thor replied, "I'll just go see if mother is still awake. Perhaps she will be in a good mood and she will not be upset about the flowers."

Loki glared at Thor again."I hate you. I did say that before, right?"

Thor shrugged. "I'm just trying to help you. Now, there are some vegetables, or you could have some dessert if you like. The cooks gave me some of everything."

Loki surveyed the plates of vegetables and the desserts. They really had given Thor some of everything. There had to be at least five different types of sweets there.

"That," he eventually said, pointing at a large slice of chocolate cake.

Thor said nothing, but proceeded to cut off a piece of the cake and feed it to Loki. He did this again and again until the slice was gone.

oki chose a piece of pie after that, followed by the pudding. By the time he finished that, though, he was starting to feel extremely full. He could feel his stomach pushing up against his shirt and trousers, making both items feel too tight.

Loki realized that Thor must have noticed this too, as he caught his older brother staring at his middle.

"I think I'm done, now," Loki said, resting a hand on his stomach. All he wanted to do was go lie down and read. Was it so much to ask for?

Apparently, it was."You may go when you've finished the rest of the food," Thor replied, scooping up a piece of yet another dessert.

Loki sighed again. Thor would not relent until he got his way. There was no use fighting it. He opened his mouth to allow his brother to feed him again.

By the time Loki had finished the rest of the desserts, he felt awful. Eating the rest of the bread just made it worse. It hurt to breathe, nevermind actually move around at all. He had unbuttoned his trousers a few minutes prior, thankfully. The pressure on his stomach would have been even more intense had he not.

Thor paid no attention to Loki's discomfort. He had just begun picking at a bowl of peas when he heard his brother groan.

"Please, Thor, I really don't feel well," Loki begged, rubbing his stomach with one hand. It provided a modicum of comfort, though he continued to hurt.

Thor looked his brother over again. His stomach stuck out enough to where Loki almost appeared pregnant. It was much more distended than it had been just a short time prior, and Loki was clearly in pain.

"Alright," Thor finally agreed. "You do not need to eat any more."

Loki was very relieved. Now, if he could just get over to his bed, maybe he could go to sleep and feel better in the morning.

If only. The main problem there was actually standing up and getting to the bed. Walking would be very uncomfortable, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice.

Frowning, Loki slowly pushed himself up from the table. He held his stomach with one hand, feeling its contents slosh around as he stood up. He couldn't help but whimper.

Within a second, Thor was at his side.

"Let me help you," Thor said. Before Loki could even reply, Thor had picked him up. The blonde carried him bridal-style to the bed, where he laid Loki down. The trickster groaned again as he settled down on his back. Immediately, he reached for his stomach, trying to rub it to make himself feel better.

Even lying down, his stomach was huge. At least to Loki, it was. He couldn't even see the tips of his toes! Damn Thor, and his strange need to make Loki's life miserable!

"Here," Thor said, pulling up Loki's shirt and resting his palm on Loki's stomach. "Let me."

Loki really wanted to shove Thor, to make him go away, but he didn't have the energy to fight. His body was more concerned with digesting the enormous amount of food inside of it and thus he was tired.

"Fine," he replied, removing his own hand.

Thor sat next to him and began to rub his stomach, pressing down gently on it as he worked. It felt painful and pleasurable at the same time.

"Ohh," Loki moaned, as Thor ran his hand along the bottom of Loki's curve. Normally his brother's stomach was completely flat, and his hip bones stuck out. Now, his belly stuck out at least a few inches above his hips.

"Do you like that?" Thor asked, noticing how Loki closed his eyes bit his lip.

"It... it felt good," Loki answered.

So Thor did it again, and Loki moaned again.

Soon enough Loki's thoughts about being angry began to fade. Instead he began to feel extremely calm. Thor was still silently touching him, making him feel better. Within another few moments he was completely relaxed, having forgotten about the pain he felt before. Thor really was doing a good job.

The next thing he knew, Thor was pulling down his trousers. Loki cracked an eye open.

"Close your eyes, brother," Thor told him. "I am just trying to make you comfortable before you sleep."

oki blinked, but followed Thor's instructions. Yes, sleep would definitely be nice. He felt so relaxed that he thought he might well sleep through the night. Come to think of it, this was the first time in years that he felt so relaxed.

He felt Thor pull a sheet over him and sighed contentedly, feeling even more drowsy. He had one last thought before completely nodding off: Maybe eating like this wasn't so bad, considering the effects it produced.

Loki was asleep when Thor slipped out of the room, taking the tray and dirty dishes with him. He was happy to see Loki getting some rest. Even if his brother ended up resenting him for it, he had no regrets.

@темы: Фанфикшн, Кино, Thor, The Avengers (Marvel), Stuffing, Loki

Stuffing

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