#i must admit that he is 6’5 and even if i don’t want to fuck him im still like wrow. you’re really covering my entire body with your body

[wilsonpussyindulgence]

i think i’m insulted by the fact that my costar in the play isn’t at all turned on by making out with me

[holylulusworld]

BFG (1)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: size kink, flirty reader, objectification of Reacher, language

BFG masterlist

“Fuck me, that guy could break me into two halves,” you sigh dreamily as the new face in town steps into the diner. “What a man.”

You lick your lips. He’s tall, and you mean tall when you say it. If anyone wants you to guess, you’d say he’s at least 6’5.

“Y/N, what was the price of the peach pie again?” The new waitress asks. She’s pretty and friendly but her memory is not the best.

Maybe she just smokes too much weed. You don’t blame her. This sleepy little town does this to you. If you don’t take drugs or drink, you spend the time dreaming of a different life.

You sigh again, this time out of frustration because you must take your eye off the thick hottie and turn your attention toward Sally Ann, the new waitress.

“It’s…” You tell her the price while dipping your head to glance at the newbie's ass when he passes the counter by. “Damn him, he’s thick too. What do you weigh, baby? Two hundred and fifty pounds?”

“Miss,” Sally Ann almost whimpers when this mountain of a man asks her about the peach pie. She looks a little lost, and you gladly jump in to turn his attention toward you.

“You can come over here,” you tap the counter. “This spot looks like you’ll fit in.” You grin as he chuckles at your bad joke about his size. “The seat is extra-large. One of our regulars needed a little extra space and cushion.”

“I guess he was tall too,” He asks while plopping down on the larger seat. The seat creaks under his weight and you hope he didn’t break it. Even though, you wouldn’t mind if he tries to break you.

“In size, not height,” you shrug. “That’s what I heard. This was before my time, and he died some years ago. This means, the seat is all yours now, sweetie.”

“Sweetie,” his laughter is deep and rich as he tries to not blush at your flirty banter. “No one ever called me sweet.”

“What a shame,” you pat his hand. Fuck. It looks like his hand is as big as one of your plates. “So, tell me,” you lean closer to whisper, “are you a BFG or are you a bad guy.”

“BFG?” He cocks his head. “Oh…” He chuckles again. “I’m friendly, don’t worry. I only get mad if you want to…”

“Fuck with you?” You cockily reply and mirror his smirk. “Hmm…I don’t think you could handle me, sweetie. I’m too much of a woman for most of the guys in town.”

His eyes scan your body at your words. He hums and drops his eyes to your ass. “I can handle any situation.” His face remains stoic, but his eyes give his dirty thoughts away. “Can I have a slice of the peach pie, ma’am?”

“Only if you never call me ma’am again,” you point a manicured finger at the giant. “People called my granny ma’am.”

“You don’t look like a granny to me,” he waves his huge hand to brush your concern off. “More like you are stranded in a place you don’t belong.” Ah, he tries to analyze you while checking your ass and tits out. “You’re not here for long.”

“Just like you,” you wink at him. “I’ll get you your pie now, and you better eat it up. It’s the best in town.”

“I bet he can break a bone only by grabbing you too hard,” Sally Ann watches the newbie eat his pie. “I wouldn’t want him to touch me. He looks like a brute.”

“No, sweetie,” you let your eyes wander from his broad shoulders, down to his wide back and further to his perfect ass, “he’s the kind of guy knowing how to handle a woman. I don’t think he underestimates his strength. The only problem is, he’s too big for my bed.”

“What?” Sally Ann squeaks. “Don’t tell me you want to take him home.”

“I’d take him anywhere he wants to go,” you nonchalantly admit. “It’s been ages since a real man tried to put his hands on me. This man over there has hands as big as our plates. He knows how to touch a woman.”

You bite your lower lip when he dips his head to look at you. He smirks and lifts the now empty plate. “Can I have another one?”

God, how you love a man who can eat. “Sure, sweetie,” you make your way toward him, swaying your hips on purpose. He glances at Sally Ann who looks a little scared. “How do you like your pie? Do you want some whipped cream too?”

He shrugs. “I’m not picky.”

“You can be picky,” you wink at him. “I won’t let you leave this town hungry and unsatisfied.”

His eyes darken at your words. “What can you recommend? What’s your specialty?”

“I asked you first,” you hold out your hand. “I’m Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Reacher,” he gruffly replies, but his hand takes yours. It’s huge in contrast to your hand, but warm and surprisingly gentle. “I’m here for…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” You hastily say. “I know you are not the kind of man answering questions. If you promise me to not cause trouble at the diner, you are always welcome here.”

“I can’t promise to not cause trouble but,” he squeezes your hand, “I promise that I’ll try not to cause trouble at your diner.”

“You know that this is my diner? How?”

“Sally Ann over there and the other waitresses always look at you for confirmation. The guests show more respect to you, and you don’t keep the tips. You put the money into the tip jar the waitresses share at the end of their shift.”

“You’re quite observant, Reacher.”

“I assume you took over the diner from your,” he searches your face. “Grandmother not so long ago. You still try to figure things out, but your pie tastes great.”

“She died six months ago. Granny left me her house, and the diner,” you sigh, and drop your gaze. “I left my well-paid job, and life behind. She was always good to me, and I didn’t bring it over me to sell the diner.”

“What was your job?” You’ve got the feeling the conversation turned out to be an interrogation.

“Aw, sweetie,” you wink at him, “if you want to know more about me, buy me dinner first.”

He watches you walk away, wondering if you have anything to do with the crime he investigates. Reacher shakes his head. No. You don’t look like a killer. And he doesn’t think for one second that you can break a guy’s neck.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Sally Ann asks. She’s still intimidated by Reacher’s size or rather his cheer presence at the diner.

“Where’s Y/N?” He cocks his head to look for you.

“I don’t know. She looked pissed and went to the back entrance.”

“I-“ he gets his wallet out to throw money onto the counter. Reacher follows you out of the back entrace, searching for you.

“Whoa, watch your step,” you push your hands against his firm chest to stop him from running the poor dog over. “Hey, that’s his spot. You are not allowed to leave through this entrance.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. He's relieved that you are not on the run, because you are the killer. “I was looking for you. I didn’t want to piss you off asking about your job.”

“Huh? I didn’t leave because you asked me about my job,” you point out. “I saw that bastard from across the street chase this poor guy away. He was only looking for food.”

“Someone tried to hurt the dog?” He squares his jaw. “Who? What did they do?”

You crouch down to add water to the feeding bowl. “The owner of the fancy new restaurant across the street. He always shoos away the kids and pets. I don’t like that man.”

“Restaurant across the street. Got it,” he looks like he makes a mental note. “Is that little boy your dog?”

“He only comes around to get free food,” you smile as the stray feasts on the food you bought for him. “I wanted to take him home, but I guess he likes his freedom. He checks in once in a while to let me know he’s still alive.”

“A stray,” Reacher watches you pat the dog. “Maybe he’s scared of settling down. Someone must’ve chased him away before.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully and pat the dog’s head. “I only want to protect him. If he runs around town the guy from across the street will hurt him.”

“He won’t.” You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder. “I got a few things to take care of in town. Do you know a cheap motel?”

“I got a spare room I rent out,” you hastily say. “I mean, you could have it. It has got a bathroom too. You can use the kitchen if you clean it afterward. If you help me repair the sink, you can have it for free.”

He nods and holds out his hand to help you up. “I can’t tell you when I’ll be around.”

“Don’t worry,” you grab his hand to write your address on his hand. “You can come around anytime.” His eyes widen when you put a key in his hand next.

“You trust me enough to hand me a key to your home?” He looks surprised. “You’re a little careless.”

“Believe me,” you pat his chest, “I’m not careless, nor dumb. I know exactly who I let inside my house.”

Reacher quirks a brow at your words but doesn’t ask what you mean. You turn your attention back toward the dog, and he’s got work to do.

He will start with the restaurant owner across the street.

Part 2

All works tags

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@bubsonnobx

[rosesnink]

Revealings Of The Heart (Hayley x Ernest)

A/N: A few weeks ago, I got this ask of my dear friend @missameliep​ asking about Hayley and Ernest’s first kiss. So I thought to make a whole one shot so it is better explained, because it has been in my mind for months how they could kiss and in a better, more appropiate age for both of them. 

Summary: Hayley graduated a few days ago and is about to go back to England to start her adult life, but an unexpected visit with a very shocking revelation makes her life make a spin of 365º. 

Hayley packed the last piece of cloth, hoping that she packed her necessities and has sold some things she didn’t need: uni books she didn’t enjoy to new fellow students, clothes she grew to loathe, ugly presents from former relationships and even has made some essays to lazy but rich people who had nothing to lose. Of course, Directora Nieto suspected, but found no proof because uni teachers did not pay attention to anything that were plagiarism on online essays, not even the detail of handwriting or narrating.

“Tú, Hayls, ya tienes todo listo?” Her roomie, Andrea, asked.

“Si, todo listo. Mi vuelo vendrá a la tarde-noche.” She replied.

Andrea sat on the luggage, knowing well what came next: closing off everything.

“Oh, boy, here we go again.”

She was taking her last stroll over the city when she got a call “Hol—”.

“Hayley! Remember me? I’m Lydia Sinclaire!” Mrs. Sinclaire beamed.

“I do! I do.”

“I’m in Madrid now on a business trip on my husband’s behalf. Please tell me I can see you!”.

Hayley chuckled “Sure, no problem. Let me text you an address and I’ll meet you in twenty.”

Hayley sent her the address to Gran Via and she lost no time, taking a taxi and stopped on that famous building of Madrid everyone started to go. She found her visit in the middle of the street, looking anxious. She caught her arm and the woman twisted it and she cried of pain! Then, she let go of it and gasped “Oh! Sorry, darling, I thought you were an attacker.”

She winced before laughing “Don’t worry. That was actually impressive. Shall we?”.

The woman nodded as they both walked towards the fancy building and got into the elevator, where it was just the two of them. Hayley then fished from her bag a dress and took off her shirt and pants, startling Mrs. Sinclaire! She put on the black dress and placed the clothes on her back. She fished her small make-up bag and put on red gloss and a quick and accurate eyeliner of the shape of an eye cat. She finally let her hair loose and put on some perfume from a very tiny bag. She placed it all in her bag and laughed at Mrs. Sinclaire’s shocked expression “What? Don’t tell me you never did this when my age?”.

“No! I was too much of a good girl. Good Lord, when did you learn these things?!”.

“Before renting a flat, I lived with my maternal grandfather who is very conservative, but my grandma taught me a trick or two. He never found out of our schemes.”

Lydia laughed shocked but amused at it “And why do you still do it?”.

“Because you never know when you’re invited to a drinking in the street in twenty minutes or to a clandestine party at a forbidden place?”.

“My God, and I thought English women were rebellious…”.

“Spanish people love three things: food, parties and holidays, and everything free. Drinking is their culture. There are some those who don’t like it or stay in, but some of them are known for that, especially the Southern! Partying in Andalusia and Valencia is the Spanish Vegas, and in some occasions, the European Vegas.”

The elevator dinged and they both entered when they saw Hayley’s attire and passed them to VIP.

After some chit-chat, Mrs. Sinclaire shook her head in disbelief “So you’ve graduated top of your class in Complutense but haven’t got a job yet? Need I to put you in good word with anybody?”.

“No, but thanks. I don’t want my rich family to interfere, I wanna earn it, like my friends here.”

The woman raised the glass “I’ll drink to that.”

When her pint returned to the table, she asked “How’s your family? I understand they’re all well?”.

“Hm, my husband is resisting cancer and my son is growing taller and more handsome by the day. Already 23 and showing a great promise in the family business!” She fished her phone and showed a pic of him where he wasn’t aware he was being photographed. He looked very handsome, really: his curls were now softer and he was taller than before -he couldn’t be more than 6’8 or how Spanish said, 1’90 metres- and his features had hardened and there was a hint of a beard on his chin.

“He is… taller. Last time I saw him he was 6’5 feet tall and I was, like, 5’8.”

“My dear, you were 17 by then! You’re 21 now. He won’t admit it, but he has missed you.”

Her heart accelerated, but kept a poker face “He did?”.

“Yes! Always asking if you’d be home by Christmas or the festivities. His birthdays haven’t been the same without you there.”

She chuckled bitterly “I highly doubt that…”.

She pulled her shoulder teasingly “They have been! He was always so sad he didn’t have any present of yours…”.

She shook her head in disbelief and Lydia looked at her earnestly “During years, he has awaited for your reply to his mobile message. He was a bit depressed that you didn’t answer, even though he told you he was in love with you!”.

Her head whipped to her direction “He what? W-what message?”.

“One call he made you when you first got to Madrid! Here, I’ve got a copy.”

She played it and Hayley could hardly believe it.

Hayley, I know I should feel ashamed. Our age difference is concerning, but you’re leaving now and I cannot hide it any longer. I must unburden myself before it consumes me: I am courting a woman, yes, but she is not you. Every time I look at her, she reminds me that she isn’t you. That she doesn’t have your mysterious green eyes I could get lost looking at all the time, or your lips, or the way you speak, so hypnotic… It is no secret to anyone but you that I am in love with you, and I wish to be yours in the most respectful way. Please call me back if you hear this. If your feelings aren’t the same, I will remain your most ardent, humble and loyal friend.

The message ended and Hayley was wide-eyed, in complete disbelief and speechless. She remembers the kind guy, Carlos, who turned out to be obsessed with her escorting her and left her phone there with him, when one of the reasons she went to study aboard was that the man she was in love with and had broken up a relationship with didn’t like her back, indeed liked her back all this time!

“How long?”.

“Since he was 14.”

She rested her head on her palms “Fuck.” She was stunned, very stunned and undone “I must go to England now. I have to tell him before I bury it deep again. Here, have some euros for the ride and the check, I have a flight to take.”

Mrs. Sinclaire smiled, knowing she did well in telling her, knowing that hours ago, Ernest was aware that Hayley returned his affections too. Her plan was almost complete.

Five hours ago, in England

“You’ve got it all, Mother?”

“Yes, I’m waiting for one last mail, can you grab it yourself?”

Ernest frowned “Why?”

“Because I have to go to the bathroom and I’ll tell you anyways the content of it.”

He shrugged “Fair enough.”

He snagged some letters that he passed through: bills, more bills, a letter from Hayley Parker—he stopped in short.

Yes, that was indeed Hayley Parker’s handwriting. He opened it, taking care that his mother wasn’t staring before he read it.

Dear Ernest:

I know I have no right, that I am far too young to you, but I don’t think I can ignore this any longer.

I’m in love with you, Ernest. It was never Louis, or James, or Peter. It was you, Ernest. It was you all along, it has always and will always be you. And if there’s someone else, I do not want them, I want you.

I am aware that you are with someone else, but I must know before I decide before I go. I must know what it’s in your heart.

Maybe I was afraid that you’d reject me for being too young or childish for you, but I know you’re not that kind of guy. I know it. I know you.

If there is any chance that there could be a you and I, please meet me at the gates of my flight.

Love,

Hayley.

His heart raced as he started to take it all in.

All this time, she felt the same! But then, who avoided him receiving this letter those five years ago?

He thought as he tried not to sound too interested in when would Hayley come back.

Then, his phone rang. Felicity Holloway. He answered politely “Yes?”

“Hello, Ernest! I was thinking about whether we should get a coffee and talk. Remember that my father said five years ago that I’d be a good girlfriend to you in that dinner? Well, I was thinking—.”

“Felicity, may I know when was that dinner? I’m in a bit of a hurry. Business to get done.”

Could she be cruel enough to do that?

“Oh, that was in the 12th of December, after we got rid of that scum of Parker—.”

He couldn’t even stop himself “So it was you, then?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“You knew about the letter. The one where Hayley confessed she reciprocated my feelings for her!”

“I—.”

“We will talk soon about privacy… and boundaries.” And then, he hanged up.

His mother emerged and placed a hand on his shoulder “Go, my boy. Run to her. Do not become her father. No matter what, go to her.”

He didn’t know how, but he understood that weren’t for his mother, this couldn’t be happening.

So he ran. And ran. And ran. He didn’t stop, even though there was a small drizzle going on.

He arrived at Westminster Bridge, a bit soaked and panting. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There she was, older, a bit tanner and more beautiful than ever. They looked at each other in the eyes. She approached him slowly, and so did he. And then, they were close. Two more steps and he was all hers.

“Ernest, I—.”

He kissed her, without thinking, he just kissed her. And she kissed him back, her hands on his shoulder and hair, not noticing that some paparazzis followed them. Ernest felt like in heaven. Her lips, with the taste of mint as he dreamed many times, duplicated, now mint and a bit of coffee and cherry lipstick. And it tasted so good. He begged her closer and she obliged, biting his lip, making him shudder. They finally separated, now noticing that people were applauding and it was raining heavily, but his mind was too fuzzy, his only thought Hayley.

“Hayley… Hayls. I must know… do you truly have feelings for me?”

She kissed him again, now a bit shortly, a small smile on her lips “I do. Do you?”

“For longer than I care to admit.”

She chuckled, noticing that her makeup was now a mess all over her face and the powerful rain now sent her a chill through her body. Ernest quickly gathered his jacket and placed it on her shoulders and scolded the paparazzis for interrupting a moment.

He called a cab, paying the ride as he handed her a napkin to clean her face. Even though she was all a mess, she was still beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She smiled at him “So, what does this make us?”

The cab stopped on her townhouse and he took her hand and guarded her on the porch and looked at her “It’d make you my girlfriend, if that is what you want of me.”

She beamed at him, encircling her hands on his shoulders “I’d like nothing more.”

And with that, they kissed again, under the rain, happily knowing that somehow, this wouldn’t end.  

[andersoncharm]

So, here we go under the mistletoe. Oh, I adore you. (Friday, December 6, 2019)

Blaine left LeFay Friday afternoon and headed over to Sebastian’s apartment to spend some time with Ras before Seb got home for the weekend. He’d be there for a few hours, snuggled up in his Harvard Law hoodie (his new favorite shirt) messing with the green and red candy cane light theme on Seb’s balcony while he waited. Lemon meltaway cookies already cooling on a rack while Ras begged with his eyes for just one more. Of course Blaine would oblige. As happy as Blaine was he couldn’t help feeling just a little down. Nothing was actually wrong with him; his life was going swimmingly over the last few months and aside from a few setbacks with his father that may, sadly, never resolved themselves, he could not be happier. Tony and Hunter were coming around more which meant Blaine got to spend more time with Tony and get to know her more, further proving that a piece of his beautiful, intelligent and kind mother still lived on in not just him but, this charming woman. Not to mention Seb and Freya were now comfortable with each other and they coexisted like friends should. And Ras still absolutely loved Blaine and Freya and never missed a chance to show it. And, most of all he had Sebastian and the two of them were closer than ever, their bond growing stronger still by the day. 

Still, there was this little feeling- like something stuck and aching in his chest that was making it hard from him to breathe properly. It wasn’t until he was back inside and standing in front of the 6’5 Christmas tree that he’d once again decorated in Sebastian’s favorite colors (green and blue) that he allowed himself to wrap his head around the issue. And really- It was such a stupid stupid thing that Blaine’s face flared up hot and red in embarrassment. It took him looking at the beautiful tree in his boyfriend's apartment to admit that he was upset that once again, Sebastian was going to be leaving for Paris. In a week. For sixteen whole damn days... just like he did last year. Looking at the tree reminded him that he’d have to spend his Christmas without his other half once again. Sure, Christmas was different for him but, it was a time for family and Sebastian was his family and it felt just as achy as it did last year, possibly even more now. 

No, he wasn’t upset with Sebastian or Sabine or anyone really, not at all. He loved them both. But, Seb’s grandmother was very French, very strict and overwhelmingly Catholic. To think that Blaine would be able to go with him like he went with Seb over the last two Thanksgivings was almost laughable. The Smythe Family was one... thing. Sebastian’s grandmother seemed to be something else entirely and when Seb asked her about Blaine coming this time she had refused. He tried not to take it too personal but it twisted at his insides a little. Maybe next year . Well, if I’m alive. He sighed to himself and tried his hardest to shake the ache. He managed fine enough last year, he got to have Ras for the last half, hopefully this year he’d get to have him the whole trip. He got to go to Seb’s house whenever he wanted and they talked and texted and Seb even took the black tourmaline Blaine had charged for him with him and didn’t make a big deal about it. Still, the strings of fate that attached Sebastian to Blaine and Blaine to Sebastian felt taut and uncomfortable with Seb was that far away and Blaine didn’t much care for it. And Blaine hated missing him fucking so much and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He tried to tell himself that this year would be different. Sebastian knew that he was a witch now and he knew that Blaine could be in his arms with very little tie and effort. Blaine could even put a shield around them so that his mother and grandmother couldn’t hear them. He told himself all of this and he knew he was being silly and dramatic and still his chest felt funny and he dreaded thinking about Seb being four thousand miles away from him again because even when he visited he’d still have to come back to Boston every night alone.

He sighed a little disgusted with himself. Don’t be that person, Blaine. Don't be crazy. It’ll be okay just like last year N!o rogue witch will find him and try to harm him. Sebastian will not fall off the fucking Eiffel Tower without you there, he won’t even go to the damn thing. Just calm down and ask him if you can visit a few times. He’s not going to tell you no.  Blaine wasn’t sure if he said the words out loud but if Ras’ arched, (yes arched) brows and confused face were to judge then yes, he said them out loud. 

He sighed and gave the tree a once over. He’d done it up the day after they came back from Ohio for Thanksgiving. Seb had helped but, mostly watched, a little in awe of the twinkle magic Blaine had done with the lights. Sure, you could buy lights that twinkled but, this was something different. If Seb were to have company they’d wonder where in the world he got such strange lights. Blaine should probably stop the magic but, he liked the way Seb’s face looked when he did these little things and would often catch Seb watching when he’d come into the room so he kept the magic in the lights and even let them ripple sometimes. Looking at the tree now thought it seemed so dull. It was almost identical to the one he’d done last year. Why had he thought the same thing was a good idea? He shook his head and thought for a moment. What could top it? He worried his lip, looking down at his feet, his eyes catching the word on the front of his hoodie. He smiled to himself. He had an idea.

A few tweaks here and a little dab of twinkling magic there and the once green and blue decorated tree was now done up in the crimsons, blacks and grays of Sebastian’s school right down to the packages under the tree. The tree was adorned with little living sprigs of Evergreen, Holly and Ivy which were sprinkled throughout the branches, berries included. It was classy and beautiful and Blaine was insanely proud of himself. He reached out and tinkered with a black bow before stepping back and smiling to himself. It didn’t fix his ache but it was beautiful and made him feel good. 

He looked at the clock, noting that Sebastian would be home in just a few minutes. They had plans for a casual dinner and to Christmas shop for his father, Sabine and the grandmother that night. He was determined to be in a good mood and not let this Paris trip ruin his December. Struck once more with inspiration, he gave a little wave of his hand and watched as vividly green mistletoe appeared just above the door, the little white berries stark against the red and grey bow that grew around it. He’d never done Mistletoe before and usually he needed something living such as a blade of grass or a leaf to grow anything at all. This must be a special occasion. Perhaps Frigg and Persephone had blessed him this year? He’d have to thank them later.  Either way, he didn’t need the plant to get his kiss but, how romantic anyway? He wondered how long Seb would take to notice.