holy incoming comment fic kink meme, batman!

[amor_remanet]

So, as some of y'all know about me and some of y'all probably don't, I have one particular kink that I would absolutely call bulletproof for me since I love it in basically all of the situations ever and with all of the characters, barring a few scenarios that really squick me and a few ships that I don't want to read period even if the fic is

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[sdlucly]

(Dude, don't worry, I get it. I wasn't really planning on making this a thing. I thought we were just throwing ideas into the air and then... this! But it's been great so far. If I feel like I wanna write Derek, I will, don't worry. Same thing for you! If you wanna throw in your inner Stiles, go right ahead!)

Derek doesn't beg, he doesn't need to, but the whine alone, the very sound of it, makes a shiver run down in between Stiles' shoulder blades, down his back. Stiles shows Derek his left breast once again, hand on the back of his head, while his other hand moves down to Derek's belly.

The pressure of Derek's stomach against Stiles' fingers, the back of his knuckles, feels amazing. Letting out the button is faster than he'd imagine, and eyes glued to Derek's stomach, he sees with a dry mouth the way the zipper moves down on its own.

The way Derek looks right now is amazing, with solid muscle not quite hidden under softening flesh, wide shoulders and thick arms, fuck. And it's only been three months since Derek started putting on the pounds. The first month it was barely a softening of his six pack, the ridges not quite visible anymore, and Stiles assumes that was the werewolf metabolism at work before it just... gave up, in a way. It's become easier, and more visible, the way Derek's body is softening along with Stiles' own. God. And it's only the beginning. Stiles can't wait for his breasts to produce a continuous flow of milk, enough to feed Derek for entire meals.

"Derek," Stiles whispers, low on his throat, almost a moan, hand still on the back of Derek's head.

Derek closes the distance between them, lips around his nipple before starting to suck. This time, Stiles can't bite back the moan it produces. His fingers sink into Derek's hair, massaging his scalp. Derek bites down on the nipple, hard, making Stiles moan again. Derek's tightening belly pushes against Stiles' own, softer skin against his own hard one.

"Do you like them?" Stiles' voice is still low, heavy, silky with lust. God. He sounds wretched and they've barely started. "My breasts. Do you like them?"

Derek's only answer is a hoarse growl, not quite a moan. It reverberates through Stiles' tit. He shivers. "You do, don't you? You love them. You love looking at them, seeing how big you've made me."

Derek shifts, groans, lips closing tighter around the aureole. Stiles smirks. Both hands move to either side of his own belly, big and heavy, full. He pulls his legs up, closer to his stomach. He loves to feel the downside of his belly against the top of his thighs.

"You've made me like this, Derek." Stiles moves slightly to the left, closer to Derek, belly pressing again Stiles' own pregnant one. He wants to really push into it, make Derek breathless with the weight of them both. He wants to lay him down on the bed, on his back, and fuck into him. "You've bred me this well, this full. It's your pups in me right now, pushing me to get bigger, to fill my breasts even more."

Derek moans, a sinful sound, and Stiles can't help but close his eyes, squeeze his breast with one hand, making more milk drip into Derek's tongue even as Derek suckles even harder. He can almost feel his own milk getting thicker, heavier, more like cream than milk, as if trying to feed the hungry new born werewolves that it should, making them grow bigger in return. They should be able to grow and thrive on his milk alone, his pups, it's designed for that. Derek presses his belly even more against Stiles side. God.

"You did this," Stiles whispers, barely any breath left. "You took me, knotted me. You bred me, Derek. My big Alpha. It's you that's made me this big, and it's me that's making you bigger."

With a groan against Stiles' breast, lips barely opening around the nipple, Derek comes with a shudder, muscles tight. In response, Stiles' back arcs as much as it can, the weight of his belly keeping him down, uncontainable pleasure running through him, and yet not quite done. Fuck.

(Yes. Okay. God. Hmmm. More? I gotta go to bed, holy shit.)

[sdlucly]

Derek collapses onto his side, just barely managing to prop himself up enough that he can keep his lips fastened to Stiles' breast, and it's all he can do to lay there and pant through the aftershocks of his orgasm, desperately rubbing his swollen belly. Fuck. Fuck.

"Derek," Stiles urges, shifting against him, heartbeat so, so fast in Derek's ears. The smell of arousal is thick in the air. "Derek, the other one. Switch. Your pups, I'm making them so much milk, you gotta do both. C'mon. You can do it."

Derek pulls away, draws back, and sees that the other breast is dripping with milk. A thin trickle is running down the side of Stiles' enormous belly, and Derek wants to lick it up, but he's fairly certain that if he moves his own belly will actually burst open.

"Derek," Stiles moans, and that's when Derek realizes that Stiles' hand has snaked down his side, desperately trying to reach around his stomach.

But he can't reach.

He's so full of pups and milk that he can't lean forward far enough to reach his cock.

"Stiles," Derek breathes, and he surges forward, latching onto the other breast with renewed vigor, pressing his belly against Stiles', maneuvering his free hand to wrap around Stiles' cock and fuck--

Stiles cries out, arching beneath him but pinned by the weight his belly, of Derek on his breasts.

Derek pulls on Stiles' cock, swallows the gush of milk, and whimpers at the sheer ache of his belly.

"Derek," Stiles breathes. "Oh my God, yes, Derek, fuck you look so good, so big, so fucking big--oh fuck--"

Panting, Derek releases Stiles' cock and brings his hand up, licks it with his cream-slick tongue, rubs it all over Stiles' dripping breast, and then reaches down once more.

"--oh shit, oh shit, oh my God, Derek--"

Derek pulls, and suckles, and pulls, and suckles, hand slick with milk and spit, cream dribbling from his mouth even though he's trying so hard to swallow it all because it's just so much. He just needs to keep going, needs to keep drinking, needs to finish, needs to--

"Fuck!" Stiles shouts, and comes in long, hot, ropes, and fuck, Derek needs to have that inside him too.

He falls back onto the bed and moans as his belly sloshes. He presses one hand against it, whimpering, even as he brings his other hand up and licks up come and cream and spit, swallowing it down between ragged pants. He doesn't stop until his hand is clean, until he's bursting with milk and come and can only lay there and hold his swollen, packed belly like he can keep it from exploding.