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@: , , , , , Fanfiction, Death Note



Belly Achin' series. Part 4.

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

The next morning, Newt wakes up before Hermann. He smiles at Hermanns serene expression- he always looks so relaxed when hes asleep, the pinched look disappearing from his eyes. Newt presses a quick peck to Hermanns cheek before rolling onto his back and experimentally prodding his stomach.

It doesnt hurt anymore, thank god. Last night was brutal, and without Hermann there to rub his stomach and cuddle him, Newts pretty sure he never wouldve fallen asleep. Now, he still feels full- like, exceedingly full, fuller than his familys enormous Christmas dinners full -but all in all, he doesnt feel half bad. In fact, it sort of reminds him of how Hermanns hands feel when theyre pressing into his belly, rubbing, massaging as he fucks him. Newt shivers and feels his morning wood stiffen further.

Hermann, he whispers. Hermann- Hermann, I need you to fuck me.

Hermann shifts and turns his head. What? he asks groggily, and Newt grins because yeah, Hermanns adorable in the morning.

Good morning, sleepyhead. I need you to fuck me.

Hermann rubs at his eyes as he visibly wakes up more. How are you feeling?

A lot better, dude- like, way better, thanks for the massage, Im ninety-five percent sure your fingers are magic. Newt slides his hand under Hermanns shirt. Cmon. Fuck me?

Hermann pushes their blanket down to the end of the bed. He frowns slightly at Newts stomach, which is still bloated bigger than usual. You dont look better. Are you sure youre all right?

Newt nods vigorously. Dude, if I still felt like shit, I would not be asking for sex right now. Last night? Felt like I could never bang again, Im serious. Now? Boner city. Come on, man.

Hermann gingerly touches his belly and Newt wriggles happily. How does it feel? Hermann asks.

Mmm- well, I dont think Im gonna want to eat for like, another day, thats how full I am. But it doesnt hurt. Its just kinda... He gestures with one hand and quickly strokes his erection with the other. Theres like, this pressure in my stomach? But it doesnt feel bad. Not at all.

Hermann carefully places both hands on Newts stomach. Yes? You feel pressure without even being touched? Does it hurt when I do this? He presses his hands down, not hard, but just hard enough that Newt moans.

No, no- that feels good, man. It feels nice. He tugs at Hermanns underwear and pouts as best he can. Will you please fuck me now? Cmon, dude.

Hmmm. I suppose so. Hermann leans down and kisses Newts belly. Youre so eager, and you look... He flushes, but clears his throat and nods. You look quite beautiful, Newton.

Newts breath catches in his throat, and he stares and gapes as Hermann searches for their bottle of lubricant. Dude, he says quietly. Youre- I- what- what, really?

Hermann does that shy half-smile that makes Newts heart flutter. Well, yes. I mean to say- I always find you to be quite...a fine-looking man. But with my, ah, particular fondness for this area of your body, and here he rubs his hand around Newts stomach in a slow circle, my attraction to you is only exacerbated by your current state.

Newt leans forward and kisses Hermann firmly, surprising him a bit. That is, like, the most romantic way you could possibly say I dig your chub.

Hermann snorts derisively and waves the bottle of lube at him. I dont have to fuck you, you know.

Aw, hey, now thats just mean. You know what Im getting at, man. Newt kisses Hermanns neck and says, Youre pretty gorgeous yourself, Hermann.

Hermanns cheeks go even more pink, and he nudges Newts chest. Lay down. On your back. Let me see all of you.

Newt obeys, grinning, and he spreads his legs so Hermann can sit relatively comfortably between his thighs. Hermann smiles down at him and runs his hands all over Newts belly, pushing down in some places, barely grazing the skin in others. He runs a single finger along the edge where Newts stomach sags over his pelvis. Hermann leans forward and presses a single open-mouthed kiss to the soft flesh of Newts lower stomach.

Hermann, he whines. Come on, please, please-

All right, all right. So impatient. Hermann slicks his fingers and pushes them, slowly, slowly, one at a time, into Newt, and Newt pushes against them, moaning with want. Yes? You like that? Full on both sides, now. How does it feel?

Great, super great- could you, could you- He bites his lower lip and squirms in place. Could you touch my stomach again?

Of course, love. Hermann slides his other hand along the swell of Newts stomach. He squeezes gently, pushes upward and then lifts his hand so the flesh sags back down. I love this part of you, he says, one hand on Newts stomach and the other crooking his fingers inside him. Its so soft and warm- it reminds me that youre not all rock star bluster. Hermann pulls his fingers out and wets his cock. Are you ready?

Yeah! Yes, yes, Hermann, please-

He groans when Hermann pushes into him, and sighs happily when Hermann rests his hands on his belly. Sweet, sweet boy, Hermann says, thrusting slowly. You must be so full.

I am, I am- Hermann, Hermann, jerk me off, please, dude, Im so hard it hurts-

Hermann wraps a hand around his cock and hardly has to move before Newt comes, splattering all over his own stomach. He always gets a little embarrassed when that happens, even after all this time, even knowing that Hermann likes it- but now, Hermann takes his hand and spreads the come into a fine, sticky sheen that covers his whole swollen belly, and that shouldnt be hot, but watching Hermanns serious face as he thrusts his cock hard into Newt and spreads his release over his stomach, concentrating hard, and yes, yes, thats hot.

Newton, Hermann sighs. Newton, Im about to-

Come on me, Newt says without thinking. Come- come on me, on- on my stomach, I know you want to-

Hermanns pupils are blown wide and Newt really wants to kiss him right now, but he cant because right now, Hermann is pulling out of him, and he pumps his cock once, twice, and there, Newt is covered in his own come and Hermanns too.

Kinky bastard, Newt breathes, and Hermann leans down and kisses him hard, not minding how their stomachs slide wetly against each other.

I should watch you more carefully when youre overeating, Hermann says. We could avoid the pain altogether and, on occasion, enjoy this instead.

Newt grins and presses a quick kiss to Hermanns cheek. Aw, I love it when you sweet-talk me.

@: , , , Tummyache, Stuffing, Fanfiction, Bloated Tummy, Bellyache, Belly Kink



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 Hermanns been hiding that stash of junk food), his eating habits dont 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 hes sure hes 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.

Its 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. Hermanns really not sure what hes talking about, mostly because his own work is not cooperating either, and Newts chatter has become background noise he cannot work without.

At some point around noon, Hermann notices that Newts 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, Id love to further study how itd react with other reptilian organs, but nooo, thats 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. Its a bad time for both of them, and he cant guarantee that anything he said wouldnt 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. Im 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. Whatd 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 hed know Newt was having a productive day.

Hellooo? Earth to Hermann, come in Hermann? Whats 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 its okay, Ive got... He waves the Poptart in the air. So, yknow, you go on down- Ill totally make it up to you tomorrow, well 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? Theyve 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, Ill see ya later.

Hermann hesitates before sighing and walking off. Theres not very much he can do when Newt is like this, hyped up on sugar, caffeine, stress, and his own brain. Its 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 hes 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, Hermanns 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- Im, uh, not feelin too hot.

Hermann glances down to see that Newts 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 Hermanns 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 Hermanns 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 labs a disastrous mess already- theyll clean it all tomorrow). He sits down on the couch, Newt moving his legs out of the way and then swinging them back over Hermanns lap. Whats wrong, darling? he asks quietly.

Newts cheeks are pink with embarrassment. Im, uh. Stomachache, I guess.

Hermann rolls his eyes, but without any genuine annoyance. Thats what you get for eating so much, you bloody fool, he says. He sighs and pats Newts leg. Get up. Were going to my room.

Aw, Hermann, come on, I dont-

Come now. I will not care for you here, with the lab in this dreadful state. My room isnt far, Im sure you can manage.

Newt sighs with great melodrama and stands. Hermann follows, takes Newts 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 dont 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. Youll just be more comfortable that way. Come on.

He looks surprisingly hesitant. Okay, see, I know you dig the chub and all, but its- its not pretty, all right, Im 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 Newts stomach. Newt whimpers quietly- the mans so sore even the slightest touch pains him. Poor dear, Hermann murmurs, rubbing his hand in a circle around Newts belly. Poor, poor dear. Ill 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 Newts pained noises turn contented. Hermann, he murmurs, wrapping his hand around Hermanns free wrist. Th-thanks.

Hermann allows himself a small smile. He presses a kiss to Newts forehead. Of course, love.

@: Bloated Tummy, Belly Kink, , , , , , Tummyache, Stuffing, Fanfiction



Belly Achin' series. Part 1.

Name: Eat Up
Author: ClassyFangirl
Fandom: Pacific Rim (2013)

It starts when their work is interrupted by Newtons stomach suddenly growling shockingly loudly.

Hermann stares at him, and Newt at least has the dignity to look slightly embarrassed. Sorry, he says, almost sheepish. I havent eaten in a while.

Hermann almost rolls his eyes and goes back to his calculations, but he pauses and notices that Newts button-down is hanging just a bit loosely over his stomach. How long might a while be? Hermann asks.

Uh. Probably a day, right? Newt appears to be deep in thought. I ate on Monday, he says confidently. And todays Tuesday.

Today is Wednesday- He glances at his watch. Two in the morning already? Thursday, Newton. Good God, man, are you sure you havent eaten since then?

Newt frowns deeply. Well, yeah- but Ive been busy! Im, like, this close to finishing sequencing the kaijus DNA, Ive had other stuff on my mind, dude-

Hermann grabs his cane and stands. Come, he snaps. Were getting you something to eat now.

Hermann, cmon-

I mean it, Newton. You will eat something and you will like it.

Newt begrudgingly follows him to the mess hall, empty at this hour, where Hermann scrounges together an omelette with a few surprisingly fresh eggs and some half-decent cheese, along with a cup of coffee. Newt shakes his head while he cooks, saying, Its not that big a deal, Hermann, I miss meals all the time, man!

But he devours the omelette in next to no time at all. Jesus, Hermann, since when are you a, a gourmet chef?

Im not, Hermann says, allowing himself a hint of a smile. In fact, I will freely admit that my cooking skills are rather subpar. This simply speaks to how hungry you were.

There is another urgent gurgle from Newts stomach. Newt half smiles, half grimaces at him. Hermann shakes his head. Ill make you some toast.

From then on, Hermann finds himself making certain Newton gets at least two meals a day- preferably three, but hes been known to skip lunch himself when hes especially busy. He tries to get him down to the mess hall for more or less healthy meals, but sometimes that is impossible. Some days, they find themselves in the kitchen late at night, Hermann trying to make something, even if its a blasted ham sandwich, which Newt always devours voraciously, sighing and complimenting Hermanns cooking ability (which, admittedly, he has been trying to improve- for himself, of course, and if Newton gets something out of it, well, so be it).

Other days, they simply cant drag themselves away from their work, and Hermann gives up on trying to feed Newton something healthy. Instead, he stocks up on packages of junk food from stores near the Shatterdome, and on their busy days, he will silently drop a bag of potato chips or a pack of some hideously American pastry (what on earth is in a Twinkie, anyway) onto Newts desk.

Once, Newton looked up from his kaiju parts to see a box of Poptarts on his desk. Dude, he said. Did you- did you find me Poptarts?

Unfortunately, yes, Hermann sniffed. I dont think there is a single healthy thing about them, but I chose strawberry over chocolate fudge nonetheless.

Newt peeled off his gloves and held the box reverentially. Hermann, I am gonna marry you one day, he said.

Hermann, absurdly, felt a flush rise up the back of his neck. Yes, well. I hadnt realized fattening breakfast pastries were the key to your heart.

They absolutely are, dude. One hundred percent.

Hermann does try to feed Newton healthy meals, with fruits and vegetables, but its so difficult, these days, to acquire fresh, nutritious food. To his dismay, its far easier to get his hands on awful, fattening foods, and Newt is always so pleased to have them.

Newton is gleefully eating Hermanns latest pièce de résistance, a chocolate chip muffin, when Hermann notices how tight Newts shirt is over his stomach. Logically, it should not cause any reaction in him- perhaps a twinge of guilt, for forcing all of this junk food on Newton in the first place -but no surprise, what with the lack of opportunity for exercise, busy as they are.

Instead, it makes Hermanns mouth go dry, and something inside him seems to do a flip. His face grows hot, and he realizes, horrified, that he is flushed with desire.

Newt glances up at him and sees him staring. Whats wrong, Hermann? he asks, his mouth full of muffin. He swallows and grins, striking an exaggerated pose. See something you like?

Hermann involuntarily makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, and Newts face fills with concern. Hey, man, youre not having a stroke, are you? Because thatd be a major loss, okay, scientifically- and personally, I mean it -so tell me if youre having a stroke, okay? Or, well, you wouldnt be able to tell me if you were having a stroke- okay, nod or shake your head and tell me if youre having a stroke, how bout that?

Hermann coughs and turns away. Im fine, Newton. I am not having a stroke, I promise you.

Oh. Thats good. There is a long, awkward pause. So is something else wrong, or what?

I am fine, Newton. Please allow me to get back to my work.

All right, all right. Whatever you say, man.

For the rest of the day, Hermann tries to avoid looking at Newt whenever possible, and if he must, he avoids looking at his stomach at all costs. But his gaze keeps drifting to the slight pudge, just enough to stretch Newtons shirt and distract Hermann endlessly. He finds himself wondering if its soft, if its warm, how it would feel under his hands.

Some time after midnight, Newt sighs loudly and drops his tools to his worktable. All right, Im calling it a night, he says. Im getting nowhere tonight. You still working?

Hermann stares up at his chalkboard. He has gotten so little accomplished all day, distracted as he is. No, he says. I ought to go to bed myself.

Newt waits for him by the door and they walk together, quiet for once in deference to the late hour. Hermanns room is closest, and they pause outside.

Well. Good night, Hermann.

Good night, Newton.

But neither of them moves. Newt ought to keep walking down the hall and Hermann ought to unlock his door and go into his room, but neither of them does. Their silence drags on, filled with tension, until-

Oh, blast it, Hermann mutters, and he pulls Newt into a kiss. Newt makes a surprised sound against Hermanns lips, but he returns the kiss almost instantly, and he pushes for more, his tongue easing Hermanns mouth open.

They break apart, breathless, red-faced. Thank God, Newt gasps. I thought- I thought I was gonna have to move first, and then itd never happen.

Hermann nods, his cheeks and the tips of his ears burning. Would you, ah- would you like to come in?

Hell yes, Newt says. Oh my god, yes.

Hermann fumbles for his key and forces the door open. As soon as theyre both inside and the door is shut, theyre kissing again, trying to make up for the last maybe ten years. Newt hooks his arms around the back of Hermanns neck, and Hermann, without really meaning to, moves his hands from Newts hips to his stomach.

Newt flinches and pulls away from the kiss. Really? Thats where youre going, man?

What? I- I didnt make you uncomfortable, did I- I apologize, Ill-

No- well, yeah, I just- Newt looks genuinely embarrassed. I mean, Im one hot piece of ass, but thats not exactly...my most stellar area, man.

Hermann frowns at Newton. I wont touch your stomach if you dont want me to, he says. But I- well. By God, his face his burning. I must say I disagree entirely.

Newt laughs. Oh, come on. He moves his arms from Hermanns shoulders and starts to unbutton his own shirt. Look- look at this, seriously-

Hermann isnt exactly surprised to see that Newtons tattoos extend to his chest, but he is struck by their presence all the same. He has never been fond of their subject matter, but he will grudgingly admit that they are very well done, artistically, and that is true of the chest piece as well. As Newt finishes unbuttoning his shirt, the pudge of his stomach hangs over the top of his skinny jeans. Newton spreads his arms. This is what youre getting, dude, he says. Im not gonna pretend this is dream guy material.

Hermann rests his hands on Newts stomach, an expanse of orange and yellow ink, like a sunset. It is soft, and warm, and he drags his thumb across the skin, watching how it goes taut from his touch. He looks into Newts eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

Newt looks...amazed, truly, his pupils blown wide as he watches, looking from Hermanns face to his hands and back again. Is this all right? Hermann asks quietly.

Newt nods, slowly. Yeah. Yeah, uh- okay. Hey- He leans forward and starts trying to pull Hermanns sweater off.

Hermann bats Newts hands away. Ill do it. You- you finish undressing and lay down on the bed.

Newt obeys and gets to work immediately, shoving the rest of his shirt off, shedding his shoes and socks quickly, pulling his jeans and boxers off in one clean motion. Hes finished and lying on the bed, fingers tapping nervously on the mattress, before Hermann has taken his own trousers off.

Youre quite eager, Hermann says, smiling.

Newt shrugs and adjusts his glasses- he can hardly see without them, and it seems hed like to see everything thats going to happen tonight. Ive, uh...Ive kinda wanted this for a long, long time, he admits. He looks Hermann up and down and grins enormously. Oh my god, Hermann- youre a babe.

Hermann lets out a startled laugh. I should say not. He finally pulls his pants off and carefully straddles Newt, doing his best to protect his bad leg. Youre hard already, he says. My, my, Newton.

Pot calling the kettle black, buddy, Newt says. Shit- Hermann, is your leg-

Its fine, he says. It isnt, not really- it doesnt hurt, but it will certainly be stiff in the morning. But Hermann cant find it in him to care about that at the moment, not with Newt under him like a perfect picture. He leans forward and presses their cocks, slick with precome, together. Newt gasps and grabs at Hermanns skinny hips. Hermann smiles and places his hands on Newts stomach once again. Its even warmer now, full of heat like the rest of Newton, and Hermann starts to rub Newts stomach.

Newt wriggles underneath him and bucks his hips upwards, forcing more friction between their cocks. They fall into an easy rhythm- Hermann massaging circles on Newts stomach, Newt rutting their erections together. Every inch of Hermann feels warm and satisfied, and Newt looks so gorgeous beneath him.

When they both eventually come, the release decorates Newts belly, obscenely white against the brightly colored ink. Mein Gott, Newton, Hermann breathes. Youre a work of art.

He lays down at Newts side and drapes an arm across the other mans chest. I shouldve known you had an ulterior motive for feeding me, Newt says. You kinky bastard, you wanted to fatten me up to get your rocks off, huh?

Newton, I would never-

Newt laughs. Im kidding, geez. Ive never been a skinny guy like you, never ever. Im just teasing. He rolls over and curls up close to Hermann, so there is nearly no space between them. But you have totally got to get me more Poptarts now. Ive got blackmail material.

Newton, honestly-

Im kidding, Hermann, kidding! Mostly.

Hermann rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Newts forehead. You are impossible, he mutters, his breath tickling Newts skin.

Aw, you love it.

...I do.

@: , , , , Tummyache, Stuffing, Fanfiction, Bloated Tummy, Bellyache, Belly Kink