#i used to be self conscious of em

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

I'm decidedly femme but I absolutely cannot do my brows. Like I don't mean makeup wise, I just can't handle people plucking or waxing or threading them. The sensation just makes me wanna claw my face off when others or even myself start fucking with my brows. So I've got a full face of excellently done makeup and then big bushy dark brows and you know what? That's so fuckin sexy of me. Shout out to any other femmes who don't perfectly conform to The Standard Femme Look™ you're so gorgeous and you look great and ily.

[blujayonthewing]

once again thinkin about revisiting the idea of putting together a satyr ren faire outfit now that I know how to sew and make props and stuff, and while it will inevitably be nyssa inspired now that I have a specific satyr oc to draw inspiration from, it can't be a full cosplay of her specifically cause she's an herbivore and when I go to the ren faire eating a turkey leg is half the point

[bunnis-monsters]

do you think the cow/bull hybrids would appreciate someone with thicc thighs and a big booty 😵‍💫 i got em irl and im a lil self conscious about em but

smth about a monster seeing someone with my build going "AWOOGA" does excellent things to my self-esteem

NSFW

warning: SIZE DIFFERENCE, tummy bulge, double penetration(two ds in v), breeding, pregnancy, lactation

You had just started working as a farmhand, helping carry out food for the cow hybrids and give them attention to make sure their milk production continued as usual.

They’re a bit dramatic, and if they aren’t given affection and attention, they won’t produce anymore!

So you started to spend a lot of time in the barn, stroking their cocks and milking them yourself.

It wasn’t easy work, but it paid well! It should have been embarrassing when they’d bury their head in your shoudler and moo pathetically while they filled the bucket up with cum, but weirdly enough you found it cute and endearing.

That morning, you pouted a little as you pulled up your jeans, having to jump and squirm to fit them over your fat ass. Your thighs were so plump, and your tummy poked out, to you it was annoying!

But as you strolled through the barn, giving the cow hybrids their food and chatting with the other employees, you never noticed the eyes following you as you walked.

After a few weeks of working there, you were finally allowed into the bull hybrid’s area. They were way more obvious with their staring, not caring to hide the way their cocks stood at attention when you walked by.

“Hey, heifer. You come to breed with us, huh?”

You nearly fell over when a bull hybrid pressed up against your ass, his cock slipping between your clothed thighs. “U-um, I’m not a heifer-“

You yelped when he grabbed a handful of your plump ass, squeezing harshly. “Shh, you’re a runt, aren’t you? Little thing, couldn’t keep my eyes off this fat ass of yours…”

He began to fuck your thighs, groaning into your ear. “Fuck, gonna give you a calf, okay? Bend over for me will y-“

Before he could get your pants down, a cow hybrid spotted him and charged, mooing angrily.

“H-hey! We had her first, you can’t touch!”

The cow hybrid pushed the bull, whining and grabbing at you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling his head against your hair.

The bull huffed, pawing at the ground with his foot, but he couldn’t argue. The herds coexisted peacefully, and he didn’t want to risk a fight breaking out between them over who gets to mate you first.

The bulls would get their turn… but the cows wanted you, had earned you.

The cow guided you back to the barn, cooing and nuzzling against you, his tail wrapped around your leg. He was so big and warm, licking you with his large, flat tongue. “Come, it’s only a matter of time before the bulls get impatient. We’ll mate you first…”

It didn’t seem like you had any choice in the matter… not like you would refuse though, you were already soaking through your panties just from the encounter with that bull alone.

And seeing all the cows gather around you, stroking their cocks and running their large hands over your plump curves wasn’t helping.

“Sorry, little one. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

One of the cows was already pulling your panties off, cupping your fat ass and lightly patting it, in awe as it jiggled.

“I’m okay… j-just…”

You whined, your pussy throbbing with need as you remembered the bull’s thick cock fucking your thighs before you were pulled away.

“Shh, shh…”

Several of the cow hybrids surrounded you, nuzzling into your neck and pushing their cocks between your thighs to fuck them. “Gonna breed you right, okay? Those mean bulls won’t be gentle with you, just a little runt… just a tiny heifer…”

You gasped as one of their fat cocks penetrated you, unable to speak before another one began poking at you, wanting in too.

The first cow fucked into you, licking your neck and mooing in pleasure as the other one whined and nuzzled in closer. They were so soft and fluffy, warm and sweet… but you weren’t sure if you could take two cocks in your pussy at once!

It seemed like it was happening anyways, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth as the second one entered your pussy, the men whining happily and fucking into you as gently as they could manage. You felt like you were being torn apart, stretched to your limits… but it felt amazing.

As they came, they were quickly replaced by others, and everyone got a turn with you, their lovely little heifer.

When your pussy was stuffed full, cum flowing down your thighs, the cows yawned and curled up around you protectively, licking your hair and trying to nest with you.

Farm work was… different after that day. The cows expected to breed you at least once a week, and within a month you were promoted, given free housing on the farm… as long as you kept the livestock happy.

During on outing, you noticed the cows acting a bit agitated, clingy to you more than usual. Despite this, they were leading you towards the bull hybrid barn, even though they had been keeping you away from it since your first encounter.

“It’s time for their turn…” one of the cows muttered with a pout. “Don’t worry, gonna keep you safe… but you gotta breed with them too… only fair…”

You were… excited. You loved the cow hybrids, but the bulls made your pussy throb in excitement.

The second the barn doors opened, all eyes were on you. You were presented before the bulls, only wearing a pair of panties.

“Ain’t a heifer anymore, is she? Bred her good…”

You were a bit confused, not knowing cow terminology… what did that mean?

You didn’t get enough time to think before a bull was crouching down to inspect your warm, soaked pussy. A long, flat tongue licked along your plump folds, making you moan.

“Making cute sounds for me already… when will she start producing?”

One of the cows huffed, pawing at the ground as he approached. “In a few months… once she’s showing you can’t have her, too rough. She’s little, just a runt.”

The bull rolled his eyes, standing at his full height. “Let me see that pretty pussy of yours, little one. Bend over.”

You obeyed, bending over and whimpering softly as he pushed one of his fingers into your needy cunt. “Sucking me in…”

He pulled his finger out, his cock twitching at the wet squelching sound your fat pussy made. “Fuck… needy little thing, aren’t you?”

When he finally pressed his cock against your pretty hole, the size difference between the bull hybrids and cow hybrids became apparent.

The bull was absolutely gigantic, towering over you as he started to push in. The stretch made you whimper and cling to one of the cow hybrids for comfort. Even when two cow hybrids had fucked into you at the same time, it was nothing compared to this!

The bull bottomed out inside you, licking at your neck and cheek with his massive tongue. It was almost difficult to breathe with his cock fucking into you, but it also felt so goddamn good that all you could to was blubber out pleas for more.

The cow hybrids fussed over you, holding your chubby belly as it bulged slightly each time the bull’s hips snapped against yours. They seemed more worried over you than usual, giving you kissing and playing with your throbbing clit.

By the time the bulls had all had their own turn, you were limp, your ass in the air as cum flowed down your fat thighs. You’d never felt so full, so stuffed before…

And you loved it.

Life was different for you after that. You learned a few days later that the reason behind the cow hybrids’ overprotective nature lately was due to you being pregnant with a calf.

As your belly grew heavy and swollen, it seemed you never got a break from your tits being suckled at. You produced so much milk due to being pregnant with a calf, more than any human woman was supposed to.

So you spent most of your days being fawned over, a cow or bull hybrid at your tit and sucking softly. You were always keeping someone’s cock warm, and you couldn’t be happier.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y

[seth-whumps]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)

No AI generated content allowed

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)

NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)

If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)

Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?

This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer

Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used

Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)

If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[carnival-core]

Ok on an Ice Juggler Cookie note

If devsis ever decide they want to make me happy and put her in Kingdom I fuckin . Hope to god they don't even give her a childish voice . Just . Make her sound like a bitter grown woman It'd be rlly funny cognitive dissonance but also if I have to hear "She has to be a child she's shorter than Gingerbrave" again I'll kill something

[tame-the-lion-writes]

tomboy reader x 141 - shopping

(Light warning for reader being self-conscious and insecure about her femininity.)

For the longest time, the boys of 141 don't see their tomboy teammate as a "girl." Not maliciously, of course, but it simply doesn't cross their mind.

It's not that you aren't pretty, but they're so conditioned to see you as "another one of the guys" that they don't spare a passing glance. You don't exactly dress up, either, and they haven't seen you in a skirt or dress. Nor do you have the most feminine interests--at least not that they know of--because their time with you is spent shooting at enemies, covered in blood, and kicking up dust. In short, the usual masculine tendency to see women as precious or dainty doesn't kick in. Because you're anything but.

Because you're a soldier.

In a way, you've grown to love it and hate it. The feminist side of you craves that respect and treatment as an equal. The other side of you, however, whatever the label may be, craves the idea of being wanted. You want to dress up nice and be small and cute. You want to wear heels and fluttery skirts and bows. You want to feel so sweet and sugary, that you could curl up in the palm of someone's hand--not afraid to be vulnerable and adoring and soft. Because you'd trust that person to still love and care for you, no matter how weak you allow yourself to be.

You never bring it up, though. At least not until Price asks if you have anything to wear to some fancy event, where you're stuck with a good old dress code.

"Yeaah... about that," you say with a sheepish smile. "Might have to get time off base to find something, sir. Don't think the pantsuit from my friend's wedding is gonna cut it."

"You don't got a dress? Not even one?"

"Was never the most comfortable in 'em, sir. Besides, I'm saving up for a house," you shrug. "I'm not out to buy some thousand dollar getup or jewelry." (And therein, beneath, lay the denial that if you didn't try to look feminine, you wouldn't look ridiculous doing so--imitating something you could never be.)

"Ooh, we should go shopping," Soap suggests with grin, leaning forward from his seat on the couch. "Think ol' Ghost here needs a bigger suit, anyway. Put on a few pounds--"

"Soap--"

"--of muscle! What--you think I was shaming ya?"

You roll your eyes, an anxious heat burning in your cheeks. "I can handle shopping myself, guys." And you didn't want them to be judging you for anything you put on.

"Oh, please, Gaz an' I are used to tagging along with our sisters," Soap continues, wrapping an arm around his fellow sergeant. Surprisingly, Gaz agrees with a nod.

"Not saying that you have to take us with you," Gaz starts, "but waiting outside a dressing room a couple hours is nothing."

"Long as we get food, of course," Soap adds.

"Well," Price notes, clearing his throat, "I'm in need of a new tie, too, so seems like it's settled. Ghost--and you?"

The masked man lets out a grunt, arms crossed on his recliner.

"... New suit."

Cue a little, "Ha! I knew it," from Soap. As well as Price filing for a one day vacation from the base.

** * **

You can practically feel the eyes trailing after you and the boys while you walk through the mall. Soap is loud enough as is, and combined with Gaz, both make for a pretty face. Then there's Ghost who just towers over everyone and looks like a cryptid with his mask, and Price who follows with the charm of an older gentleman. A posse of bachelors, that is.

You pick at the hem of your sleeve as you walk ahead--the default leader for today, seen as despite the boys' side quests, the main quest was you. Dressing you up in an elegant dress. Finding you matching heels and accessories. Making you look pretty and presentable.

So now you're here, standing in the dressing room of a fancy first-class boutique you could otherwise never afford--if it weren't for Price's insistence that, as your captain, it was his responsibility to make sure you looked "dapper." You smooth out the off-white creme of the skirt, staring in the mirror; you think you look pretty enough, and the pearl earrings add a certain charm to your otherwise plain features. (Though really, you're stressed that you'll seem more like a child playing dress-up--riddled with the self-consciousness of a girl trying imitate her mother, looking back at the gaudy mascara and smudged lipstick across her cheek.)

But there's no stalling. No more taking forever. The clock is ticking, and you either be judged for how you look, or judged for wasting time, or breaking down in refusal. (You know they'd never judge you--they're good men, you know--but still. You'd pick at your sleeve again if it was there--)

"Ready," you call from behind the curtain, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the light.

And all your fears melt away when they stop their banter to look at you, and their eyes widen--then soften--at the sight.

[rubiehart]

i feel like jj is absolutely obsessed with ur stretch marks, like say you'll be cuddling or something and u have ur leg resting on his hip and he's just running the pad of his thumb over ur stretch marks GRAHHH im losing it

been sitting on this one for a while.. my apologies♡︎

the blanket was tousled messily at the foot of the bed from your continues fidgeting, the outer banks heat was never kind to you this time of year. eventually getting up and cracking the window open, in hope to at least get a little rest, standing on your toes to reach and opening the latch, jiggling it a little to crack some paint, after all the chateau was old, you were sure this window hadn’t been opened in years.

you whipped your head back around, bare feet padding back towards the bed, you averted your eyes back up to the bed, plopping down on it to see jj seemingly awake, laying on his back with his hands behind his head, smirking. maybe. it was hard to see much in the dark, the only light source was the moon coming through the gaps of the overgrown plants taking over the outside of the shack slowly.

“mother nature claiming what’s her’s.” as pope would say, effectively saying the chateau was a shit shack. relaying it to john b continuesly in hope to get him to cut it down, he never did. you were glad in that moment, being able to admire your boyfriend’s face, illuminated by the pale light. “what?” you giggle, a little conscious, wrapping your arms around your stomach. he blinks slowly to cut out his staring and shakes his head playfully. “nothin’.” he sniffs and grabs your arm, pulling you on top of him, giggling as he does so, he laughs too, hiding his face in your neck. “shh.. we’re gonna wake the others” you laugh out, pulls away from your neck and smirks.

“ahh.. fuck ‘em. ‘s just us.” he whispers, flipping you back onto the bed and pulling you into his side, you nuzzle your face into his neck and breath in through your nose, a smile gracing your face at the smell. it was just so jj.

you lean up and capture his lips in a deep kiss, which he returns, groaning into your mouth, resting his hand on your thigh and gliding his thumb mindlessly over your stretch marks.

after a few seconds, you pull away, suddenly feeling self conscious, staying close enough to him for your lips to brush when you squeak out the question. “what’re you doin’?” he pulls away, blinking a little fast as he looks at you, mumbling out “hm?”

“what’dya mean baby?” he mumbles, kissing along your neck slowly.

“m’ stretch marks.” you whisper out and he lets out a little chuckle, pulling away from your neck for a second.

“they’re pretty.” he whispers, charming little smile on his face as he watches the insecurity creep onto your face. “them tiger stripes ain’t got shit on you, ‘kay?” he smiles and places gentle kisses along your neck, eyes flicking up to see your reaction, smirking when you smile, slowly sliding down your legs as he whispers against your navel. “lemme show you how pretty they make you, yeah?”

[bits-and-babs]

Your fics are amazing! Would you ever write about König?

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 — 𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

synopsis : rumours of an elite soldier have the base reeling. murmurings of 'monster' and 'freak'. what happens when you come face to face with the beast, only to find he's nothing like the whispers cautioned?

pairing : könig x f!reader

warnings : 18+ mdni. war, violence, graphic gory imagery, self-conscious könig baby, little bit of hand kink, basic bitch smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, tight fit, sugar-sweet teeth rotting smut. this feels so basic… but I was struggling. please note, kilgore is a name previously linked to könig. I have used it as a codename 🙂

könig masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

Warfare training preps for the inevitable—those moments you need to fire a weapon and how to camouflage and navigate enemy territory without detection. These inescapable horrors are 'another day in the office' by the time you enter the field, the prickling chill of fear driven out of your system. Whistling RPGs are not dissimilar to the scream of your Drill Sergeant's commands, the cold, hard ground of a dilapidated building no more uncomfortable than the standard-issue barracks mattress you would ease your wearing bones into after training. 

Fear, beaten out of each man and woman that slipped on the uniform, held no commonplace in the military. Weapons, the call to war, brutality and sirens did little to raise the blood pressure. 

Whispers held far more weight and struck unease into the hearts of even the most desensitised of fighters. 

It was inarguable that each military in every country, at any time, had its own 'boogeyman'. Notorious fighters with absurdly large kill counts consisting of three digits that inevitably earned a bounty for their head, funded by the enemy—elite warriors who acquired a legendary reputation that ultimately became horror stories. The Ghost of Kyiv, The American Sniper Chris Kyle. These military cryptids kept their enemies awake at night, baying for blood and begging for the piles of bodies they left behind to stop growing. 

After years in the SAS, you were beginning to think that there was no such thing. Each soldier was prolific, brutally efficient and inarguably the best of the elite forces. It was only upon entering Task Force 141, a genuinely mean feat, that you began to hear the unshunnable, hushed whispers of Kilgore. 

“Did you hear about Berlin?” 

“Kilgore? Yeah, heard he blew away a whole Al-Qatala cell.”

“Twelve of ‘em. The hostages were traumatised.”

These mumblings had persisted for months, consistently updated with crazy tales of whole garrisons blown to smitheries by this massacre-happy hulking mass of pure military precision. You, like the rest of 141, elected to ignore the gossip. This was a battlefield, filled with elite soldiers, not a school playground. 

                            ✰

Austrian mud splatters your camo-clad shins as you sprint through the forest terrain, your heart lurching in your chest as your rain-soaked fingers almost fumble your gun to the sodden ground. It’s freezing cold, the gush of rain edging on a flurry of sleet as lightning cracks above your head. Clothes soaked through, the moisture and icy wind form something of a ‘Pact of Steel’, working together to deep freeze the marrow of your bones. 

As you slip in the mud again, heel skidding across the slick soil, you realise how dire the situation truly is. Separated from 141 during the firefight, you’d navigated north. You continued running for the safe house once discovering your coms had been dispatched by a stray bullet— that certainly would have ripped through your heart and dispatched you instantly if not for the layers of plastic settled over it. 

Thunder rumbles in the clouds above, the boom reminiscent of a distant air strike. Slurried earth gives way beneath your feet as you push on. Exhaustion gnaws at your joints as you scramble for safety, bested only by the adrenaline that buzzed in your ear like a vicious drill sergeant. “Move it! Do you wanna die?! Well fucking move!” 

You can hear their boots in the mud, the advancing Al-Qatala mercenaries chasing after you and shooting blindly at your heels, competing with the distance and dense foliage. You’re like an injured fox, feverish bloodhounds nipping at the end of your tail— what could they do with an SAS hostage? How much leverage would it buy? 

Bullets whistle by your feet, the proximity of some enough to set your hair on end. They’re closing in, jowls dripping with slobber as they attempt to close their teeth around you. Just a little mor—

Crack. 

Chaos erupts behind you, the thump of a body and a flurry of shouts. Panicked voices overlay each other in different languages, Urzik and Persian. You scramble for cover behind a treetrunk, the bark cutting at your palms as you brace for incoming fire. 

"Kilgore!" Someone shouts, and your blood runs cold, eyes wide as they dart around the foliage for the legendary soldier. The whizzing of high-powered bullets persists, dropping Al-Qatala mercenaries into the mud beneath them. You hear the yelled orders, Urzik fighters urged to retreat.

You're unsure if one fails to hear the directive over the din of warfare, but you hear the advancing feet of the mercenary advancing on your position—the squelch of the mud beneath the rubber sole of his combat boots. You scramble with your weapon, checking the gun's safety and readying for a one-shot shoot-out. 

When a bullet shreds through a victim's head, the sound is reminiscent of a watermelon being cracked open. It's a sickening crunch. A wet spray of warm blood cuts through the downpour of rain, splattering across your face. Some of it is solid, brain matter and shards of cranium. 

It's not silent by any means. The rain continues to beat against the floor, pattering in the puddles that had formed in sole-shaped prints in the soaked earth. Cracks of thunder sound in the distance, and the droplets drum against the leaves in the forest's canopy. However, the sounds of the firefight cease. 

"You can come out," a voice calls to you. Accented; Germanic. You hesitate for a moment, once again strengthening your grip on the gun you'd clung to. Your lungs strain with the sudden intake of breath, ribs crushed beneath your tac-vest. "Ghost sent me." 

Easing your head out from behind the tree trunk, you marvel, somewhat horrified, at the gigantic, hulking build of the man who stood in the clearing. Fallen enemy combatants surround him, a blanket of corpses draped across the turbid forest floor. A black veil covers his face, and his equipment litters his tac-vest. 

You'd be lying if you said you were unperturbed by the sight. Instead, fear lurches in the pit of your stomach, and you freeze in place. It's only when your eyes catch the crystal white slicing through crimson on the patch sewn into his shoulder that the airy voice, which certainly doesn't match his enormous frame, brings you a sense of safety. 

"The safe house is ahead. We could get you warm–– clean you up?"

                            ✰

Staring into the bubbling pan of water settled over the small fire, you relish in the warmth that creeps across your chilled body. Still, you're soaked, the damp clinging to the threads of your clothes. The scent of iron still assaults your nose, the water that you pick off the fire cautiously heated enough to scrub the blood from your face. 

Kilgore, who informed you upon entering the safehouse preferred to be called by his name König, had seated himself in the corner of the large, relatively empty room. He looked ridiculous like this, attempting to compact his body into the crevice. You don't doubt it's an attempt to ease the nervous energy bleeding through your pores, your hands trembling as you attempt to dip the rag he had gifted you into the hot water. 

"Did..." You swallow thickly, glancing up at the Austrian, "Did you tell the Lieutenant where we are?" 

"Mhm-hm," he nods slowly, his jade eyes watching you from beneath the face veil. They're sharp and bright, contrasting so strongly against his uniform's muted and inky shades. "He's planning evac." 

You scrub the gore from your face, wincing as you feel the shards of bone scrape across your face. König's eyes bore into you from the other side of the room, watching you struggle to remove what was left of the grime the rain had failed to wash away. 

"I've-... Heard a lot about you," you speak to him, attempting to cross the vast space he had consciously put between you. His green eyes gaze at you, unblinking as he watches your expression. König is trying to read you, trying to comprehend how you feel. He's cautious, trying not to push you outside of your comfort zone. 

"About Berlin?" He asks, and his voice is so soft that it reminds you of a child attempting to speak after being reprimanded by their parents–– wary of a second bout of raised voices. 

"Yes," you mumble, dipping the crimson rag into the water before laying it across your skin again, "About Berlin." 

König hums softly, casting his eyes to the aged, wooden floorboards. The woodlice have chewed through them, moss growing in some parts. You can see he appears uncomfortable, his knuckles white from the fists that form in his lap. 

"I didn't mean to scare anyone," König admits in a whisper, catching you off guard. His shoulders sag slightly, and you see him pick at loose threads in the knees of his camo trousers. 

"N-No... I meant to say how courageous it was," you point out, watching his fidgeting hands still suddenly, "You risked your life for those hostages... saved them singlehandedly. No one else would have done that." 

Hesitant silence settles between you both, König considering your words carefully as he stares at his lap. You can't see his face, the veil concealing all but his eyes, though you're almost sure he's stunned by your comment. It takes him a moment to discern his next step, but he finally lifts his body from the wooden chair he'd pulled into the corner. It creaks with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space towards you. 

"You also saved me," you point out, watching him kneel before you, "Faced a whole cell..."

König steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn't speak at; first, silence hanging between you once again as he dips the cloth into the water. Then, he soaks it until it drips, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint colour and standing out against his pale skin. 

"Ghost asked me to," he mumbles, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. He gives you time to pull away–– you don't. 

"You could have ignored him," you whisper, suddenly breathless with this proximity. He still towers over you, even balanced on his knees, head and shoulders slumped over you. You can see the ocean green of his eyes clearly, the halo of brown flecks that cover the circumference of his pupil. His eyelashes flutter when he blinks, so pretty and oddly feminine. 

The pressure of the cloth against your skull is so delicate. König appears to be afraid of hurting you, gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline. He shakes his head gently, considering your kind words. "What kind of man would I be, Leibchen?" his voice is airy, tone flimsy.

Those stunning eyes take a moment to gaze into yours, searching for your answer. Instead, all you manage is a weak shrug. 

"Were... Are they afraid of you?" You whisper to him, struggling to find the words to broach a topic that appears to affect König so profoundly. It's his turn to answer wordlessly, offering an equally frail nod. 

König takes your chin ever so gently in his hand, his palm almost eclipsing the lower half of your face, and turns your head in search of further blood-spatter. He sweeps the makeshift face-cloth over your skin, focusing on removing the grime altogether. 

You'd heard the cruel rumours, the whispers of 'monster' and 'freak'. This König you'd met couldn't possibly be the same they uttered about maliciously. He held a child-like kindness, the brutality of the job seemingly doing little to chip away at his humanity. The same couldn't be said about the others. 

"König," you whisper his name softly, watching as he continues to focus on clearing up your skin. His soothing touch smoothes across your temple now, removing some mud speckles. "Don't listen to them."

You can see his eyes soften, once again turning to yours as you reach to fiddle with the edge of his veil. Upon tracing the border between the pads of your thumb and forefinger, you find that it's t-shirt material, the zigzag seam stitching rough against your touch like barbed wire. "They haven't seen you like I have." 

Those eyes gleam with amusement, little crows-feet creases forming in the corners. He's smiling, and your heart stutters against your chest. 

"That right, Leibchen? I've had a mask on this whole time."

The gentle teasing lilt to his tone makes you lightheaded, urging you forward with your frankly ridiculous plan. You begin to lift the edge of his veil upwards. You take it slowly, his pupils dancing across the bare skin of your face as you reveal the point of his chin. His skin is equally as pale there, barely exposed to sunlight.

König doesn't stop you as you continue to lift the fabric from his face, exposing the curve of his lower lip. The skin there is soft and plush, little creases in the flesh making your heart thud awkwardly against your ribs. Finally, you stop at his cupid's bow, so soft and subtle it's barely there at all. 

You can feel his gaze warming your skin as you trace his lips with your eyes. Hesitation holds you still, uncertain about the final step of this stupid plan. König, as ever, doesn't push you. Doesn't even breathe. When you lean forward, the tip of your nose brushing his own that still lay beneath the cloth, you hear a sharp yet gentle inhalation. It triggers goosebumps across your forearms, butterflies battering the pit of your stomach. 

Soft. His lips are so soft when you mould your own to their shape. König's veil tickles the skin of your face when you kiss him, and you feel his gigantic hands settle on either side of your neck as he begins to return your affections. They swallow you, and your pulse leaps against his palm. 

König smiles, and the kiss turns toothy and a little lopsided. You can't help but giggle nervously, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as he presses gentle pecks to the edge of your mouth. Despite his massive, intimidating frame, each action is deliberate and soft. 

"... Are your clothes still wet, Schatz?" He's breathless despite his seemingly put-together appearance, his nose bumping yours as he interrupts your answer for another fragile kiss. "We could get you out of them." 

                            ✰

Your standard-issue military t-shirt slips and falls from the cot's mattress as König gently pulls your hips towards the edge. His fingerprints have already bruised into your thighs despite his attempts to be gentle. When he'd begun to panic, you told him not to worry–– he'd already bruised up your neck with his teeth and lips; what was a couple more?

Butterflying your legs out for him, König groans softly as you expose your glistening cunt for him. You're shy, covering your face with your hands as his fingers massage the soft, malleable flesh of the inside of your thighs. 

"Schatz," he whispers, and you peer through the gaps of your fingers. König gazes down between your legs, green eyes gleaming as he positions his cock between your folds. "So beautiful." 

It's ridiculous, you think, staring down between your legs. König is huge in every sense, the shaft of his cock thick and veiny and drowning out the seam of your sex as König shifts his hips forward to swipe the length of him across your weeping cunt. You can't help your mind running away with itself–– surely he needed a weapons license to carry that thing-?

A weak chuckle sounds above you, and you crane your neck to catch his eye. "I will take it slow, Schatz, I promise you."

You believe him. He had been so delicate with you this whole time, laying you down gently on the bed, careful when removing your gear and your clothes not to let the material snag on your nose or chin. 

König's hand disappears beneath the face veil, spitting into his palm before he smoothes it over the head of his cock. He groans, eyelids fluttering beneath the mask as he drags his hand over the length. It's a pretty sight, you think, such a colossal man shuddering in bliss. When he sweeps his cock through your folds again, he carefully taps the tip of his dick against your clit to illicit a whimper. 

"Mhmm, gentle. I promise you," he repeats, inching the tip of his cock down until it settles at your entrance. The soles of your feet find purchase on König's hips, and he massages your calves gently as he begins to inch into you at your nod of approval. 

Oh, Christ. 

König stretches you the moment he sinks inside. There's a delicious burn, one that has you lifting your hips with a whimper as you equally try to escape and dive into it. He's wheezing, eyes glued to where your bodies meet as he watches you flutter around his size. 

"Ha-So tight, Schatz," he groans loudly, stopping when you firmly grip the bedsheets. He notes your expression of slight pain, the tears welling in your eyes as your body attempts to accommodate the intrusion. König seemingly can't help the flurry of apologies that fall from his mouth as he leans over you, settling his thumb against your clit in an attempt to ease you open. "Here. I want you to feel good, Engel." 

The tremors in your thighs rattle against his hips as he circles your clit slowly. It's blissful, the sticky, warm arousal that blooms through your abdomen as he teases at the sensitive nerves. You arch your back against the mattress, moaning out his name breathlessly as he continues to inch his cock further into you. You barely notice when he finally settles the rest of him inside, wailing softly when it twitches and knocks something earthshattering inside you. 

"O-Oh fuck––" you choke on your curse when König shifts his hips forward, jutting into your cervix and winding you suddenly. You probably look ridiculous, eyes rolling back into your skull as you claw at the vast expanse of his chest. You drag pink lines down the pale skin, drawing blood to the surface, but it does little to phase König this far along.  

"Good, Liebling?" He murmurs, continuing to assault your clit. You can barely form a coherent sentence in response, drooling around a string of 'yes, yes, yes'. It's all he needs to find comfort in advancing, easing the length of him out of your weeping cunt before driving it back in at an achingly slow pace. 

You want to slam your fist against his pectorals and insist he go faster, but you're not sure you're ready for it when he slides into you balls deep. It's as though he's settling among your lungs, filling you so good that you're seeing static in your line of vision. 

The sound of a desperate groan from above barely brings you back down to earth, noting how he's staring at your face. His pupils are blown wide, almost devouring the green of his irises. It takes you a moment to realise you're drooling, his slow and steady pace already pushing you to a mindless edge. 

"Oh-" you moan, digging your nails into his abs. They ripple beneath your touch with each deliberate thrust, and König hisses at the sharp sting and the crescent moon indents they leave behind. "F-Fuck, König- Too much-!"

"It's too much?" He wheezes, eyes searching your face. You desperately shake your head, terrified he'll pull away from you despite the inching arousal building at the base of your spine. Wrapping your legs around his hips, your heels press into the small of his back and hook him in place despite your protests. 

It sparks something feral in the hulking man, his hips surging forwards and jolting you up the mattress. Your breath escapes you in a squeak, arousal soaring and buzzing thickly in your abdomen as König mumbles in German, his soft voice coming out all gritty under the strain of his exertions and bliss. 

"Mhmmm- fuck-" you babble, eyes rolling again as you lift your hips to meet his. He sinks impossibly deeper, and your breath stutters as you feel the telltale tug of your orgasm. "Oh God- König, I'm-"

"Tell me," König whispers, rutting up inside you. He doesn't bother to inch out of you now, repeatedly battering so deep inside you that you struggle to inhale as your orgasm approaches fast. 

"Hngngg- hah-ah- I'mgonna- c-cum-" you choke with each sudden thrust, his thumb quickening its pace against your arcing clit. Perhaps he shifts his hips slightly or reaches even deeper than before, but he brushes against something utterly debilitating, and you cum with a loud shriek of his name. 

It bursts through you with blistering heat, your fingernails sinking deep into the curves of his bicep as you brace against the waves of bliss that crash over you. König keeps fucking into you, your walls squeezing tight around him as his thumb persists in its assault on your throbbing clit. Tears stream down your face, and König can't hold on much longer as you strangle his cock. 

"Hah-Shit-" he slurs, his voice barely reaching your ears as he buries himself as deep as you can take him. He cums with a haggard moan, body trembling as his cock spurts inside of you. There's so much of it, too, leaking out of you before he even manages to move. 

Both of you take a moment, both stunned by the overwhelming ecstasy. König doesn't bother withdrawing from your heat as he slumps beside you, turning you on your side to face him. He offers no words, burying his face into the crook of your neck and holding you tightly. 

Your chest heaves as you suck in oxygen, skin prickling with heat as König encases you in his massive arms. You don't need the sheets, his body-heat burning hot beside you as you press your skin to his.

No words need to be said, you think. König had offered his feelings in the form of his reverent touches and delivered his thanks for your kindness in the delicate kisses he'd pressed to your lips as he carried you into the bedroom. 

As you lay in the dark, settled into König's side, you trace your fingers over the curved scars, the bulletholes that have healed over against his ribs. They rise and fall beneath your touch, lungs expanding and deflating with each breath. It's a sobering moment, the thrumming of his pulse against your palm reminding you of his humanity despite the whispers at the base that had insisted upon his bestiality. 

You realise those who speak cruelly of him and ruin his self-worth don't understand their impact. To them, he's a cryptid–– his very existence called into question. They hadn't seen him with their own eyes, only heard the mind-boggling tales of his startlingly impressive missions and monstrous size. 

They hadn't felt his heart, the way it fluttered against your touch when you'd offered compliments. Hadn't experienced the soft plush of his lips pressing into your own in heartbreakingly sweet kisses. He was no monster. 

And when Lieutenant Riley came for you the following day, choosing to ignore the marks left on your skin and the way you hesitated before climbing into the helicopter to offer the Austrian a gentle wave and a promise that you would return, you began the mission to rewrite his story. To change hearts and minds.  

It didn't take long at all.

"Did you hear about Kilgore?"

"I did! He saved a member of 141. Incredibly brave–– I heard the situation was dire."

"She spoke very highly of him. Said we could count on him."

"I certainly wouldn't mind fighting alongside someone so dependable and courageous." 

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[gguk-n]

Chapter 2- Unspoken Yearning

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Oscar is becoming painfully obvious that he loves Y/N. Even Lando is sick and tired of him. Y/N's having some weird feelings. She's always been clumsy but these strange occurrences have her heart beating really fast.

Y/N was busy talking to her brothers and Oscar's sisters when she heard that familiar voice. He sounded much more older and mature. She turned around to look at the boy who was sounding a lot like a man and maybe he looked older too, she thought. Their eyes met and she smiled at Oscar. She hadn't seen him in ages; he sounded more mature, even hot if it wasn't weird to call her brother's friend hot, he had lost his cute cheeks that she loved pinching, his hair was just as fluffy as it used to be and the closer she got, she realised he had grown quite tall, almost half a foot taller then her. "Hi Oscar" she greeted him with her hand out; Oscar's eyes were wide and he was staring at her. She looked beautiful in the midi skirt and top she paired with a cardigan since the weather was cooler lately. Her eyes were still as warm as he remembered, her nails were neatly manicured. "Is something on my face?" she asked now self conscious. "Nothing" Lando answered, "I'm Lando" he added. "I know, I'm Y/N, a friend of Oscar's" she said. "Oscar never told me his friend was this pretty" Lando said. Oscar saw Y/N tuck her hair behind her ear while a blush graced her cheeks. "Everyone's here Oscar, you should go meet 'em" she called out as Lando walked away with Y/N.

Oscar walked towards the group to greet everyone while he could see his best friend shaking his head. "Why are you shaking your head?" Oscar asked. "Nothing, it looks like Y/N might ask Lando out if he compliments her one more time" Ansel pointed out. Oscar couldn't let that happen, he hurriedly walked towards the pair, "umm....Y/N...Ansel was calling for you and Lando we need to go see the engineers, they asked to come at this time" Oscar said looking at his watch, dragging Lando away. What a close call Oscar thought. Y/N walked back, looking visibly confused when Ansel denied ever calling her.

Oscar was starting the race at P16. It was like the good old days when Oscar used to kart; his cheerleaders were all present to cheer him on for the first time in a really long time. This was a special race for Oscar, since it was his home race. He ended the race in points for the first time in his Formula One career. He couldn't have asked for a more momentous feat. He was so excited getting out of the car. After the weigh-in, interviews and celebrations; Oscar was back in the hospitality greeted by his family. Everyone congratulated him and you could hear the cheering and hooting coming from the group.

Both the families were headed out to dinner to celebrate Oscar's first points in Formula One. Some how, Oscar likes to thank God who was looking down on him, maybe he pitied him but right now, Y/N was sat next to Oscar, he could feel her leg brush past his as she tried to pour herself a glass of water. She handed Oscar a glass too, "Loosen up, Champ" she whispered patting his shoulder. Oscar tried to relax but he literally couldn't, not when she was sat next to him. After exchanging life updates and ordering their food, everyone was talking amongst each other leaving Oscar to talk to the person next to him. He was about to open his mouth but Y/N beat him to it, "Why'd you tell me Ansel called back when I was talking to Lando? I was gonna ask him for his number" she told Oscar. That's exactly why. "I didn't know that. But I really thought he had called you. Anyways how's work?" Oscar asked trying to change the topic. "It's been great. I used to wrangle the 6 of you, I think I can handle pre-school children" she told him. "I helped you wrangle them" Oscar interjected. "Debatable" she said. "I always helped" he tried to reason. "Honestly, you listened to me the best. So, yeah, you did help" she replied thoughfully. Oscar felt like she was talking to him like one of her students. "You're talking down to me" Oscar whined. "God, you still as cute as before" she said ruffling his hair. "I'm not cute" Oscar groaned. "Sure sweetheart, whatever you say" she chided. But Oscar's cheeks were heating up, Y/N had never called him sweetheart even to tease him, he could get used to this, he thought.

The dinner ended with Nicole asking Oscar to drop Y/N off at home since she had come with them. Oscar didn't mind getting to spend some alone time, or so he thought. Poor Oscar was sweating bullets as the AC was blasting in the car. Y/N raised her hand to his forehead at the signal; "Do you have a fever?" she asked. "No" Oscar replied pushing her hand away. "You're sweating a lot" she said now taking a handkerchief out to dab his forehead. "You sure?" she asked again. Oscar caught hold of her hand and brought it down from his face, now looking into her eyes. "I'm not sick and stop treating me like a kid Y/N. I'm almost 22 in 4 days" he remarked. Y/N felt weird, the eye contact, his hand on her wrist and the way he was looking at her. "Sorry" she apologised and freed herself from his grasp and turned to face ahead before Oscar released the clutch to move the car.

The rest of the drive home was quite, Y/N's mind was everywhere; the whole while she stole glances at Oscar and his veiny arms, she quickly caught herself. Y/N had a whole internal monologue going on; 'I've been single for over a year. I've not felt the touch of a man in so long. I've not been dicked down either. I'm probably ovulating. There's no way in hell do I find that scrawny pale boy hot' she reasoned. She got out of the car, greeted Oscar good-bye. Oscar just smiled, "Won't you invite me for tea or coffee?" "It's almost 10, you won't be able to sleep if you drink coffee" she reasoned. "It's rude not to invite your guest in" Oscar expressed. "You're not my guest" she began but as she saw a pout form on Oscar's face; "You know what, I have some Jasmine tea. Come on" she offered. Oscar smiled so big, the street light seemed dim.

The two entered the flat, Y/N throwing her stuff on the sofa. Oscar started walking around looking at all the decorations and pictures on the wall until one caught his eye, a picture of Oscar and Y/N, no one else. "You have a picture of me" Oscar pointed out, holding the photo with a smile. "Yeah, I didn't have any with you other than that. I have pictures with everyone here" Y/N said while heating up the tea. Oscar took a picture of the photo frame; this might have made his day more than the points today. Y/N was busy putting stuff away when she knocked over the hot kettle, tipping all of its content on her hand. "FUCK" she screamed as the boiling hot liquid made contact with her hand. Oscar blotted from the living room into the kitchen on hearing the commotion. "That's gonna leave a mark" he said while quickly turning the tap on and placing her hand under cold running water. "You should be more careful." he told her. "that's gotta hurt" Oscar mumbled to himself. Y/N was staring at Oscar, her hand didn't seem to burn as much under the water but Oscar's hand were warm and big; one of his hand was enough to wrap both her hands, his eyebrows had creased in concentrating, had he always been like this? After a while Y/N slowly took her hands our from the running water, "I'll be fine Oscar. Stuff happens" she told him. "I'll make the tea, go and take a seat. You have ice in the freezer, right" he asked. She nodded at him and Oscar grabbed a cloth and bunched up a few ice cubes and placed it on her burnt hand.

Oscar made the Jasmine Tea with a few instructions from Y/N and the two sat in silence drinking the tea while Oscar placed one hand on the make shift ice pack. Oscar cleared the cups and offered to buy her medicines. "I'm fine Oscar. You should go." she said. "I just feel bad about leaving you alone" he expressed. "I can manage. Don't worry about me. Spend some time with your family" she told him pushing him towards the door. "Do you not like having me around?" Oscar pouted. "You're a joy to have around, more than my own brothers some times, but your parents miss you. Spend some time with them. Okay?" she said. "You're talking to me like I'm a toddler" Oscar whined. "I'm talking to you like your best friend's sister" she stated. "Are we not friends?" he asked. Y/N sighed, "yes, we are friends Oscar. I'm saying this as your friend, spend time with your family. They miss you." she clarified. Oscar smiled. "I don't want us to be friends for long" he mumbled exiting the house. Before she could ask Oscar what he meant by that, he had vanished.

On Oscar's birthday, everyone had come over and he had the biggest celebration he had in a while. The cake was from the local bakery that Y/N had picked out. Oscar doesn't remember what everyone got him but he remembers what Y/N got him and it was a hand knit sweater with a 'happy birthday Mr 22 years old' note which made Oscar laugh. When Ansel saw the sweater, "You got the better one, mate. I've been receiving all of her prototypes" he said. "She made this?" Oscar asked. "Yup, she's been knitting people gifts since she became obsessed with knitting. Reminds me of my grandma honestly" Ansel replied. Oscar was going to cherish this gift for the rest of his life. This was gonna be the family heirloom he passed on.

Oscar didn't get to spend as much time with Y/N as he hoped since she was busy with work. But something had changed in him; he wanted to be hers. Ansel left for university since he had taken a few days off to see his best friend race. Oscar was now stuck with his family for the next few days; Y/N would pop in to help his mum around the house and Oscar would only see parts of her because some how in his house, she was the busiest person. She would leave soon, saying something about her mum needed her home too. On the day before Oscar was supposed to leave, Y/N came over and was stood on the step ladder changing the bulb. Oscar was walking by when he saw the step ladder wobble and Y/N lost her footing. Thankfully Oscar was there to catch her; "Are you okay?" Oscar asked worry written all over his face. Y/N on the other hand, her heart was beating really fast, probably from the fall. Oscar's chest was firm and warm, he was toned, she thought. His arms were strong, he was literally carrying her. She gulped hard before nodding. "Why would you do this alone?" Oscar asked annoyed. "I usually do this alone" she replied barely above a whisper. "What if you got hurt?" Oscar groaned. Was he always this hot angry? Y/N thought. Her priorities were truly in a very strange place. "Please don't do anything that would get you hurt" Oscar begged. "Oscar, you drive F1 cars for a living. I was just changing the bulb. I should be the one saying that to you. Now if you'll put me down, lemme clean this mess." she stated. "No" was all he said before carrying her away from the broken glass of the bulb and cleaned the place and also changed the bulb.

Oscar was back to racing. But this time, no matter what he did, he couldn't forget about Y/N. He couldn't stop wondering if she was okay or if she got hurt. Not like he could call her every day and ask. So, Lando now had to deal with a pouty Oscar who would only ask the most random questions like do you think you can hurt yourself if you trip on something? the answer was yes. Or do you think you can cut yourself while cooking? also yes. Or are there any household chores you wouldn't risk hurting yourself? sadly the answer was no. Lando was so confused, he felt like he had an annoying toddler following him around suddenly. Everything started to make sense when he saw Oscar staring at a picture on Instagram. On close inspection, Lando realised it was Y/N, Oscar's best friend Ansel's sister. His teammate was a goner, Lando thought patting his shoulder. "Mate, stop staring. You'll burn holes through your phone" Lando chuckled. "I'm not staring" Oscar said while scrolling away. "Sure" Lando began, "I finally get all the weird questions you've been asking me" Lando finished. "What do you mean?" Oscar asked. "You're worried about someone rather someone special?" Lando teased.

Lando was good at making people crack or was Oscar itching to talk to someone about his love for Y/N, we will never know. It was like a dam broke inside Oscar who started talking about Y/N morning, evening, day and night. Lando was getting sick of it; he wasn't sure how many more weekends he would last before he told Y/N that Oscar was in love with her. In their driver's room or their hotel rooms, late at night, as Lando's eyes would be closing from the tiring day they had; Oscar would be describing in painful detail how Y/N's hair looked in different seasons of the year. Lando was sure not even documentaries put him to sleep faster than Oscar did. One night, annoyed and tired, Lando interrupted Oscar, "Just tell her already mate. I think I'll be able to profile Y/N in my sleep at this point" Lando whined. Oscar's eyes widened. "Sorry" he mumbled. "I'll head back to my room" Oscar walked towards the door dejected. "Also ask her the fuck out mate. It's about time. The worst she could say is no" Lando called out. To Oscar the worst that could happen was, he lost his found family. It was scary and Oscar wasn't sure he could go through with asking her out even though he wanted to.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Shanks bullying you about your dating life.

Shanks: wait, so why don't you date?

You: because I am unfortunately attracted to men, and most men are either stupid, useless, creepy, or evil.

Shanks: True... No one has ever asked you out on a date, have they?

You: ... No

Shanks: *snickers*

Benn: that explains quite a lot

You: what's that supposed to mean?

Benn: well, you've always seemed a little innocent and naive about romance.

You: *feels very self-conscious, and doesn't know how to respond*

The crew: *snickering because they think you're cute*

You: *retreats to your quarters because you feel like you're being made fun of*

Shanks: oh come on, we were just playing around.

Benn: leave em, they need to develop a tough skin if they're going to make it as a pirate.

Later, during dinner

Shanks: *goes to your room with a plate of food, when he notices you didn't show up* Hey, you in there? *Knocks on your door.*

You: Yes, what do you want?

Shanks: I brought you dinner, can I come in.

You: *grumbles* yeah

Shanks: *enters and gives you the food,* did... did we really hurt your feelings?

You: You guys found a sore spot and picked at it. So yes, you guys hurt my feelings.

Shanks: Would you feel better if I took you out on a date?

You: I don't want your pity.

Shanks: It's not pity... I just don't know how to make this better.

You: I want revenge.

Shanks: What?

You: I. Want. Revenge.

Shanks: and how do you plan on getting that?

You: I don't know yet.

Shanks: *doesn't know how to respond*... Well, good luck with that, and feel free to join us when you're done sulking. And just so you know, we'll be playing gin rummy and drinking until we get bored, or we need to go to bed.*Leaves*

You: *glaring at the door with your mouth agape.*

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[astrologydayz]

ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES - SYNASTRY

Man's Mars square a woman's Venus/Klett asteroid- 2199 can show us that the man will have "problems" at 1st with "getting it in", because the woman is 2tight/he's 2big🍆. He’ll HAVE to get her REALLY wet in the beginning🏄‍♂️, and even after that, it will still take some time before it starts "2fit", without hurting. Woman's Sun conjunct a man's Mars shows us that the man will be turned on by the woman's conscious persona/how her ego represents herself. He can get off by the woman talking about herself2/being "Self absorbed"💅🏼.

Man's Moon square a woman's Venus/Klett asteroid - 2199 can show us that the man cannot "satisfy the woman's sexual needs/desires. He will not pick up on what the woman needs to be pleased/pleasured🆘.

Man's Mars square a woman's Uranus shows us that the man wants the woman to "try out" his sexual fantasies, but the woman will end up blowing up/ghosting him after some time, because she really doesn't want to do em, but does them anyway. She will be willing to try all these different things, but will end up crossing her own boundaries 2satisfy him🙄😑. That’s when she’ll “blow up”/or “disappear”, without a word.

Lust asteroid - 4386 square North Node/South Node = The lust person's desires/sexual fantasies are meant to create friction when it comes to the Node person's "path in this life&Karma - NN"/safe space&Karma- SN". It creates tensions, because they do not fit each other. Karma “being served” to Node person, from a past life. No matter what the lust persons fantasies are = it will always feel wrong to Node person, but it’s something they have 2 go through with Lust person, because of karma. They'll always have problems, when it comes 2 the lust persons sexual needs. Node person will always have alarm bells ringing🔔.

BML SQUARE JUPITER = Can cause the JUPITER PERSON 2 GIVE SEXUAL DISEASES 2 LILITH PERSON!! I've seen it many times, &Jupiter doesn't own up 2 it 90% of the time😵‍💫 .

Man's Sun conjunct a woman's Lilith asteroid - 1181 = he taught her how2 fuck/how to please him sexually, but he also gave her sexual trauma while “teaching her” 💔. Mars conjunct/trine/sextile Neptune = sex on drugs. Being high/drunk together while doing sexual activities🍁🥃.

A man's Dick asteroid - 17458 conjunct a woman's Fama asteroid - 408 = the woman will gossip about the mans dick quite literally - good or bad. She will talk about it openly to other people. They can also talk about it 2gether, the man and the woman but she WILL talk about to others2. Maybe not when they're 2gether, but she will after🥇🥈🥉. A woman's Klett asteroid - 2199 conjunct a man's Fama asteroid - 408 = exactly the same as above, just vice versa baby.

A man's Dick asteroid - 17458 conjunct/trine a woman's MC = everyone that "knows her/hears about her" will know she's fucking him/has been with him sexually - could be anything sexual tho, it just have to be something regarding his dick obv🍌🤗. can also show a "public work relationship" ofc, if u get what i mean📹💰.

A woman's klett asteroid - 2199 conjunct/trine a man's MC = same as above, just vice versa again💜.

Cumming asteroid - 14348 conjunct Vertex = the asteroid person will give the Vertex person an otherworldly orgasmn/or multiple🥇. Fated indeed🫦.

Lust asteroid - 4386 conjunct Webb asteroid - 3041 = Lust person is sexually attracted 2 the webb persons persona/photos/videos online. If lust person sees webb person online at 1st, without knowing them = they will be immediately sexually attracted2them. BUT it doesn't mean sexual attraction from Lust person 2 webb person in real life tho🧑🏻‍💻🎥📱.

A man's Lust asteroid - 4386 conjunct/trine a woman's Black Moon Lilith = the man is sexually attracted2 the woman because of the "freedom" she gives, and her openness about her sexuality. He's turned on by the way she stands in her power, and won't "give in". He’s also attracted to her because of her struggles/because of where&how she feels left outside alone🖤.

A man's Venus conjunct a woman's Klett asteroid - 2199 = he's in love with her 😼, the way it looks, and the way it feels✌️💋 .

A woman's Venus conjunct a man's Dick asteroid - 17458 = same as above, just vice versa💜.

THANK U SO MUCH4READING LOVE, I APPRECIATE U🖤

U can always message me❤️

[blujayonthewing]

one thing about the idea of larping is I honestly don't know that I'd even want to physically roleplay out A Quest so much as I just kinda wanna go fantasy camping and socialize in character

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Rutabaga (The Surprise, Part 15)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, sex, fingering, oral, explicit language, pregnancy times, pregnancy bodies (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.6k

Summary: As your body changes, you're feeling self-conscious and worried that it might never return to "normal." Emily is, thankfully, very good at reminding you that you're beautiful.

Week 25: The Rutabaga

You stared in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, eyes roving over your body. The pimples that had sprung up and never seemed to go away–it was like being a teenager again. You lifted up your shirt to look at your baby bump, but choked on a mouthful of toothpaste at what you saw there. Your belly button poked out over the rise of your belly, a direction which it had never, to your knowledge, gone before. And what was that? A line?! A line from your belly button all the way down to where you couldn’t even see it anymore. You vaguely remembered Dr. Delgado mentioning it but, you hadn’t actually thought it would happen.

You spat into the sink, looking yourself over more critically, still trying to cough up all the toothpaste you’d inhaled.

“Honey!?” Emily called from the bedroom.

You kept coughing, but croaked out a response. “I’m good! Just breathed some toothpaste.”

“Em, look at this,” you said, standing in the bathroom doorway, shirt lifted up over your belly.

Emily lowered her book to look at you. “Yeah, babe. You’re pregnant, all right.”

“No!” You huffed, waddling closer. “Look at my belly button. What the fuck is going on here!? It’s popping out like a little jelly bean or something.”

Emily chuckled and sat up, setting her book aside. “A little jelly bean… Honey, I think that’s normal. Don’t you remember Dr. Delgado talking about it?”

“Yeah, but…” You sighed and ran your fingers over the dark line that ran beneath it, the stretch marks that lashed themselves tight over your belly. “I guess I didn’t think I would look like this.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked, taking one of your hands and running her thumb over your knuckles.

You shrugged and exhaled. “Everyone’s pregnancy photos always look so cute and I look… I don’t know, there are lines everywhere and I’m all pimply and my baby bump looks weird.”

“Hey,” she cooed, pulling you down to the bed. “It doesn’t look weird. It looks beautiful. You look beautiful.”

You shook your head slightly, looking down. “You’re just saying that because you’re my wife.”

“I most certainly am not,” she protested, tilting your head up.

When you didn’t respond, she pulled you down next to her on the bed. “Come here,” she said softly. “Come lay with me.”

You lay down and stared at the ceiling, feeling inexplicably sad about the ways your body was changing. Such mixed feelings. Just like you would never be the same after the baby was born, it was likely that your body would never be the same either. It made you a little sad, even though you knew, when all was said and done, it’d be worth it.

“Let me tell you,” Emily said, caressing your face, “what I love about your body.”

“Em,” you protested, blushing a bit.

“Shh,” she ordered, silencing you with a kiss.

She started at the top of your head, running her hands through your hair.

“I love your hair,” she said. “I love the way it sticks up in the morning.”

She kissed your forehead. “I love your head because it houses your beautiful mind.”

She planted kisses on either of your eyelids. “I love your pretty eyes.” Another kiss. “Your nose.” Then a real kiss, your favorite kind, where she held your head in her hands and gently pressed her tongue into your mouth. Your stomach fluttered. “I love this mouth,” she said, kissing you once more. “So kissable. Good for so many things.”

You giggled as she continued kissing her way down your body. “I love your neck. It’s also very kissable.”

You whined and arched your back as she swirled her tongue around your nipple, her touch alone hardening them to peaks. She let it go with a pop, using her fingers instead to squeeze them gently. “I think you know exactly how I feel about your tits.”

You’d have blushed if you weren’t so damn turned on. She’d barely done anything and you were pretty sure your underwear was soaked through.

She moved to your stomach, pressing her hands lovingly on your baby bump. “And, god, do I love your stomach. Look at you, honey. You see these marks?” She kissed them gently, only her hands, grasping at your waist, betraying just how aroused she was. “I love these marks. I love your little jelly bean belly button. I love that you’re letting your body change so we can start a family.”

She moved to your thighs and you let out a moan, your hips pushing toward her. “I love these strong legs,” she said, and then paused.

You shuddered when you felt her breath close to your center.

She chuckled, smug. “I love that you get so wet for me, just from my words.” She licked a stripe from your center to your clit and you grasped at her head, breathing heavily.

“I love that you come undone for me,” she continued, planting kisses all over, except the one place you really wanted her.

“Emily,” you moaned.

“I love that I can make you feel the way you make me feel,” she said, finally pushing her fingers inside of you and scissoring them so a bolt of pleasure shot up through your spine, making you writhe and gasp.

“I love you,” she finished, before diving in like a woman starved. Suffice it to say, Emily knew what she was doing with her mouth, but the mouth/hands combo? She could have you coming on her fingers in thirty seconds flat, and she knew it. But she wanted to take her time tonight, building you up to your peak, and then backing slowly away. After a while, you were quite literally dripping, begging for release.

“Come on, Em,” you groaned, bucking for more friction. You just couldn’t quite get yourself there.

She lifted her head, wiping her face and smiling at you. You whined at the loss of her mouth against your clit. “You feeling beautiful yet?”

“Jesus Christ, yes,” you confirmed, annoyed. Your body was shaky from riding her fingers for so long. “I’m a fucking goddess. Now finish me already.”

Emily pressed the flat of her tongue against your clit, hard, and curled her fingers just at the spot she knew would have you falling apart. And sure enough, your orgasm flared through you like a flame set to a line of gasoline laid the length of your body. You trembled as Emily finished you off, pumping her fingers slower and slower to bring you back down, then finally easing out of you and licking your arousal off her fingers.

She moaned and her eyes rolled back as she flopped onto the bed next to you. “The taste of you, that’s another thing I love.”

“Point taken, love,” you said, kissing her quickly and snuggling into her. “I’m stunning.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She kissed your forehead, resting her hand on the side of your head and her chin on top of your head. “Or I’ll be forced to remind you again.”

“Oh, no,” you replied drily, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Emily’s other hand rested in its usual spot on your baby bump, and you pressed yours over hers, appreciating your wife, appreciating that soon there would be three of you.

You felt a fluttering inside your stomach and then, so quick it took you by surprise, a tiny little kick, so hard it poked the edge of your stomach out, right under Emily’s hand. She gasped, barely moving.

The baby kicked again and Emily shot up like a cannon, pressing her face against your stomach.

“Honey, I can feel him!” she said, her voice high and giddy.

You put your hand on the side of her face, brushing your thumb along her cheekbone. She was so happy. God, you loved to see her happy. You loved her so much.

“Hello!” she said softly, lips centimeters away from your skin. “Hey, little guy!” The baby kicked again, right in Emily’s face, and she laughed. “I hear you, baby. I hear you loud and clear.”

She looked at you, absolute joy written all over her face. “Does he always move this much at night?”

You shook your head.

Emily thought for a minute, then her eyes opened wide in realization. “Do you think…” she started, grinning conspiratorially at you. “You think it’s because we had sex?”

You looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, we woke her up!” you wheezed.

Your stomach fluttered, a series of baby kicks popping up on your stomach.

“Aw,” Emily cooed, resting her chin on your belly. “It’s okay, little guy. We hear you. Go back to sleep. Mommies are sorry.”

“Let her sleep, Em,” you scolded, pulling her back up to you and kissing her. She kept a hand on your baby bump, just in case, just to feel the baby move. She couldn’t get enough of it. Like magic. Every single time she felt it, she was shot through with joy.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” she whispered, yawning, and tucking herself under your chin. You could nearly feel her buzzing with excitement, with love. The same love she buzzed with for you.

“I love you, Emily,” you said, running a hand lazily under her shirt and over the bare skin of her back.

When she didn’t say it back, you craned your neck and found her fast asleep. You brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead, reaching to turn off the lamp. When you realized you couldn’t reach it, you decided to leave it be. You’d happily sleep with the lights on to stay here with Emily like this just a little bit longer.

[thegnomelord]

heyo!!! here for the prompt game!!!!

can i have 19 with monster au ghost and soap (make em trans if ya can).... reader is male and a top/dom and he's an older dragon hybrid so he has a bit of a dad bod and is a little insecure about his looks and also his age affecting his performance (two lizard pp) i want the boys to comfort their dilf

Ngl this took me so long to do as I just couldn't figure out how to write it 😅 Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Becoming self conscious after the clothes come off

CW:NSFW, monster 141 au, FTM wraith Ghost, FTM werewolf Soap, M!dragon reader, afab language, double dick, oral, double penetration, body worship,

Dragons only stop growing when something kills them and you're old enough to have shed blood on Jerusalem's walls; you know how you look — fat widening your frame and hiding the sharp musculature you possessed, old age muddling fogging the gemstone like shine of your scales until they look like low quality stones, wing membranes dotted with holes and broken horns capped with gold and iron again and again and again throughout the ages.

You watch Ghost and Soap disrobe after a long day of running drills, Simon periodically giving one word answers to Johnny's insistent but welcome chatter as he helps Soap take off his gear after he'd sprained his back. It's domestically calming, watching your boys—your hoard— take care of each other, Soap's eyes settling on yours as he licks his lips; dread stabs your ancient heart. It picks a new spear morning you wake to find them huddling next to you when you expected them to be long gone, sharpening it throughout the day until you find yourself back in your bedroom with them so dark dread can stab your heart once again.

How can you even call them yours?

You're not dumb. You know no partner deserves to doubt their own abilities when you fail to become hard immediately like they do, hairpin triggers that they are. Nor do they deserve to be left needy and wet, bodies rearing to go again quickly while exhaustion claws at your eyelids after just one orgasm; curse your draconic blood for turning more than just your body lazy as the years go by.

You're so deep in your head you don't notice them until four hands grip you and before you know it you're being flung onto the bed. You land with all the grace of a mountain, the bed's groaning under your weight not helping to stop the thoughts in your head. They're on you like wolves, straddling your thighs as if mortal men can pin a dragon down.

"Now whaet's gotten yer tail in'a twist?" Soap asks, greedy hands sliding beneath your shirt to trace the swell of your firm stomach. Your heart preens at his touch before your mind can remind you that in society's vain eyes-their eyes- you're less, just bragging rights, a notch on the bedpost.

"I'm fine." You growl, pulling Johnny's hands out beneath your shirt. He looks defeated like a child deprived of a toy, though your sharp senses pick up a spike of arousal.

"Sure," Ghost's sharp eyes track your every movement, blackened hand gripping your forearm, claws tracing the place were muddy scales melt into human skin. Even completely nude atop your thigh his form strikes a sharp image compared to you. "What, did you get a shite tatt while we weren't lookin'?"

"Is it a tramp stamp?" Johnny perks up at that, a low sound coming from him and his thighs clench around your own, slick dampening your skin. "No, no, a dick tatt." And suddenly his hand's at your groin, fondling the smooth surface of your pelvis over your boxers in an attempt to coax your cocks out of your genital slit. It doesn't work, like usual.

"Fuck's sake," You growl and grab his arm, trying to ignore the swell of your heart when your rough action makes Johnny's arousal spike. "I'm fine, really."

"Mhm, and I'm the Queen." Ghost snorts, using your temporary distraction to lean in and lick a long stripe up the side your neck, nibbling on your ear until a treacherous rumbling purr leaves your chest. Your body doesn't care of the shit going on in your head, only recognizes the sweet arousal of your hoard and the soft touch they leave on your body, rough hands sliding across your skin and feeling the hard muscles beneath the fat.

"More of a princess, sure 'r bossy like one." Johnny pipes up and ducks to escape a swat over the back of the head from Ghost, unperturbed by your grip of his arm Johnny slides his other hand down your front, sharp claws shredding your shirt before you can stop him. "What's wrong bonnie? Not 'nough that this handsome knight comes t' lay yea?"

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes closing to escape their gaze, "I just-" You breathe out, "-just don't know what you see in me."

Silence follows your words and you're sure the next moment they'll get off and this thing you had will just be over. Then a hand grips your hair, your eyes falling open just in time to catch Simon's before he roughly kisses you. Soap is close behind, tail wagging rapidly as he licks the side of your lip and taking Simon's place when you seperate.

"How about we show you, yeah?" Simon growls, briefly groping the firm swell of your abdomen then sliding his hand down to cut your boxers away with his claws, leaving you as bare as they are. Ghost's clever fingers sneak down further to slide across your genital slit, sharp claws tenderly scratching the smooth scales around it and fingers spreading it open, thumb rubbing the head of one cock as it's starting to peek out.

"Not going tae stop us will yae?" Johnny's hands wander over your exposed chest, roughly groping your fat pecs as you both groan into the kiss. "Cause ah been wantin' to do this for a while," Then he pulls his head back and pushes it between your pecs, a low sound escaping him as he shakes his head.

A surprised laugh leaves you as you realize Soap's fucking motorboarding you, nipping and kissing your fat chest. His touch makes fire burn in your stomach, the way both of their hands roam across the wide expanse of your body making goosebumps pop up on your skin.

"Way to ruin the mood mutt," Simon chuckles alongside you, then his eyes go down. "Oh, like us being sweet on you, huh?" He smirks, fingers wrapping around your cock as you only now realize you've gotten hard, "Want us to keep going?" The sharp scent of their arousal is impossible to miss, only making both of your cocks just that much harder.

"Yeah," You breathe out, letting them maneuver you however they want. You end up flat on your back with Ghost stradling your face, cunt leaking slick down on your face. Soap's between your legs with his plump lips already latched on your lower cock, sucking and licking your cock like it's a popsicle.

"Fuck-" Simon yelps when you follow Soap's lead and pull Ghost down firmly on your face, your obscenely long tongue sliding out to lick a fat stripe across his folds. "-just like that. Shit, you take such good care of us." Ghost groans, his voice stroking that draconic need to guard your hoard and making you worm your tongue inside him. The sudden intrusion of your tongue inside his fluttering walls makes him double over you, but soon after you feel him latch on to your second cock.

Even with all your senses consumed by them you still catch the slight whine in Johnny's chest, already imagining him roughly fingering himself as he sucks you off and watches Simon's eyes grow bleary every time you twist your tongue to hit that special spot inside him. Without thinking you slide your tail between Soap's legs, mind flooding with endorphins at Soap's pleased groan around your cock before he's roughly grinding against your tail, cunt wetly pulsing and drawing more sounds from him each time his clit scraps against your scales.

You don't know how long you float in a fog of pleasure, Simon's sweet slick flooding your mouth, skin feeling hot like magma from their hands wandering and groping your flesh like you're some god, mind buzzing from the sound of their collective pleasure and the sweet tight heat of their mouths on your cocks. At some point you become aware of the orgasm steadily encroaching towards you and you'll be damned if you cum before them.

Giving Simon's sweet cunt a final lewd 'slurp' you pull your tongue back, jaw and throat covered in his fluids. Ghost slumps against you, breathing hard while still continuing to suck you off, his eyes meeting Soap's while the Scott desperately humps your tail and whines because it's not enough.

"On the bed." You growl, low and possessive, your strength still surpassing them as you maneuver them. Simon ends up on his back with Johnny pressed up on top of him, both bodies flush with heat and sweaty.

"Fuck, bonnie-" Johnny sucks in a sharp breath and grinds his hips against Simon, biting his shoulder and groaning as the motion makes their cunts rub together, mingling their slick. "Come on, fuck me-us, just-"

"I know," You chuckle, wings subconsciously spreading out to show how big you are, how strong, how you can take care of them. "Need me to fuck you boys good and hard huh?" You let out a low rumbling growl, draping your body over theirs and not holding back so they can feel your weight. You don't miss how their scents sharpen with more arousal.

"Stop talking," Simon growls, brown eyes meeting yours and urging you to press your slick cockheads against their wet holes, each cock almost tailored just for them. Simon groans as you slide in, your first cock not as long as your second one but fat and Simon relishes the burn as you spread him to his limit.

"Shite," Johnny grinds his hips back to meet yours and whimpers when your cock head brushes his cervix, both of their bellies bulging from you being inside them. "God, fockin' love you for this,"

Another small laugh escapes you, "Love you too," making a few short pumps of your hips to get them acclimated to the stretch of you inside them you start making deeper thrusts. "Love you both so much," Your confession is honest from the deepest part of your heart, a deep draconic groan leaving your lips at the way they clench so wonderfully around you.

You see Ghost open his mouth but words escape him as your cock saws into him, all the bumps and ridges on your shaft scraping their soft walls until they're both shaking, soft little moans and deep growls leaving them. You pick up the pace, sharp had thrusts into their pliant bodies making the bed smack against the wall.

You fuck them hard and fast until they're shaking with an orgasm but you don't stop, teeth bared as if to scare off your own pleasure so you can fuck them over and over and over again.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Sweet As Sweets

Fred Weasley x Chubby! Reader x George Weasley

(Can be read as platonic, because we all wish we had someone to comfort us on a sensitive topic like this)

Summary: You were being bullied by a gaggle of students for your weight. You were just enjoying a trip to Honeydukes with your friends. Made you self conscious, and that didn’t fly over the twins heads. They are going to fix your problems. Every last one of em

Warnings: Eating disorders, topics of weight, bullying, lots of weight talk, insecurity’s, the twins getting violent because no one hurts their loved ones

“Well if it isn’t my favorite trio-“ Mrs. Flume would beam, as she saw you three. You and the Weasley twins. All smiles. Every time it was time for Hogsmeade, you three had to come to the candy shop. Who can resist Honeydukes? Certainly not you three. Not to mention she adored the twins. They were always happy to help her, and gave her such wonderful ideas for new treats. She knew that the day they made their shop a reality that she would be more than happy to offer to stock their shelves with sweets. Honeydukes in Diagon alley. A perfect business prosper!

“Hey Mrs. Flume!” You waved, as the twins were already quick to help her with the bag in her hands. Fred with holding it, while George with putting what was needed on the shelves. Some things just needed a human touch, after all. Had you giggle. They were tricksters, sure, but no one can argue that they were business savvy. It’s what made you respect them so much. Jokes, but knowing there was a time and place.

“I was hoping to see you lot again soon. Oh there is this new candy my husband and I created. You three always have such wonderful opinions. Who better to know what kids like than kids themselves?” She would beam to you, and you had to smile. Such a sweet woman. Suppose you three really rubbed off on her.

“I’ll be right back. Boys, can you help me a moment?” She would ask, as the twins gave mock salutes to her. Had her chuckle at their Go Gettem attitude. Had her ruffle their beanies, that kept that vivid orange hair safe and warm. Off to work they went, as you stayed behind. Just admiring the beautiful shop.

“No surprise you are in here again.” Someone would call out to you. Your heart dropped, as you knew that voice. Was one of those prefects. Not the ones like Percy. Those who drank on power, and liked to abuse it. You couldn’t argue with them, or they would take house points from you. Even if you were in the same house. Made it sting more that your own house could wish such pain.

“Leave me alone.” You grumbled, as you tried not to face the gang. You didn’t want to. That gang of prefects was always bullying people like you. People who didn’t starve themselves to the point those high cheek bones were a product of starvation. They felt better than you because they were on the opposite end of the spectrum of hunger. They had their own battles, but they were taking it out on people. Spreading the toxic disease.

“What? Mouth already stuffed full?” Another one of prefects mocked, as they made a pig snout pull at their nose. Followed by oinking, as the gang echoed it. Had your eyes water, as you tried to cover your ears with your hat. Anything to make them shut up.

“Stop hogging all the sweets. We know you are one, but move-!” And a sharp push was given to your side. Had you squeak, as you plopped on your butt. The chain reaction causes you to hit the side of a counter, and pumpkin fizz soak your clothes.

“Now you STINK like one to-!” They continued to mock, as your eyes water. You just couldn’t take it. They were always following you into whatever shop you went. If it had food in it, even though you didn’t go to eat, they haunted you. They were probably jealous you were such good friends with the twins. More like had friends in general, that weren’t surface level. Regardless you would stumble upwards. Slipping on the soda, as you ran out into the snow. Sobbing, as the twins returned.

“Hey, where did-?” Fred puzzled, before the gaggles of prefects quickly hushed. Playing dumb, as they all looked around. Pretending to be curious of what the shop had to offer, while George noticed the fizzy footprints. That made him nudge Fred, and he took the hint. The duo soon outside, to see you sniffling in a frosty bench.

“What happened?!” The twins asked, as they hurried over. George was quick with a hot air charm, just like Molly taught him, as Fred looked over the scene. The orange soda unable to hide your tear stained cheeks.

“I eat alot, that’s what happened!” You hiccuped, as you rubbed your eyes. That had the twins sigh. Not in annoyance, or bother. But in empathy. Not the first time those prefects bullied someone your shape.

“And? We eat alot to!” George tried to defend, but you just sniffled more. “But you two don’t get fat-!” You hiccuped again, as Fred was sitting next to you.

“Oh come off it. Mum’s fat!” And that had George smack his shoulder. “SHE IS-! But that doesn’t mean she isn’t our mum. She’s big, and big ain’t bad. She and we don’t get along that well, but she’s still a wonderful mum.” Fred tried to clarify.

“Yeah. Also the best hugs. Our hugs suck because we’re sticks and bones.” George tried to tease. It was nice, though. They said Fat but not with that negative energy. Was just another word. Wasn’t sugar coating things at all. They were being honest, and not trying to make you feel better to stop your crying. Their words were real. Had you calm down, a little.

“Also, like look-“ George added, as he finished the charm. “You know how us Weasley’s are. Food is like a language. We like food. Food brings people together. And when we become business men, it’s gonna be the best way to say we care.”

You were understanding what he was trying to say. The Weasleys were a poor family, but they tried to feed. Hence why the older siblings were thinner than the younger. To try and make sure the younger ate. But with siblings moving out, getting jobs, food is able to not be so sparse. Food was now a enjoyment, compared to survival.

"When we make it big, I hope we can get fat id anythkng-!" That had you roll your eyes, but you were grasping what they meant. Still, you couldn’t help but pinch at a roll on your stomach.

“Oh stop that.” Fred would soon trap you in a hug. Made you unable to move your arms, as George joined in. Trapped between them too. Forced to listen, and unable to degrade yourself more.

“Charlie is also fat. Like he can’t keep flexing twenty four seven.” George added, as you recalled meeting him before. He was an extremely well built man. Excess mass is still excess mass. He’s right. You can’t just flex all the time. Even muscular guys are squishy.

“But-“ You couldn’t finish your thought, as Fred poked your nose. “Don’t say ‘but he actually has muscles’ you baby. We would love you if you were built like a train, or as skinny as a wooden one. So shut up about that.” Fred would lecture you.

“Not to mention you aren’t even that big. Like come on. Like COME ONNNNN-“ George would whine, as he plopped his head on your shoulder. “Like come on. So what if you eat a little more. You actually ENJOY food. Like come on.” He grumbled on.

“We rather be friends with someone who enjoys our cooking, and experiments to eat, than a skinny asshole who thinks just eating a slice of bread is going to murder you. Like this whole thing is dumb. Skinny this, fat that. Lame.” Fred would huff, as their own bodies were suffering issues.

The twins were very skinny, and that was a fact. They had developed muscle, from quidditch, sure. But they also were still underweight. It was so hard to keep on weight, given how much work they did. Suppose it can be exhausting being told you had a body to die for, when you hated it to begin with. Helped you see that maybe there were just as much perks to being plus size, as there were to being skinny. It’s your body. What’s with everyone wanting to be in your business?

“Come on. You deserve to edulge a little. Come on.” The twins would flutter their eye lashes, in that Halo Wearing way, and you snorted. They would call that a victory, as they smooshed their cheeks with yours. Warmth, love, and affection. What you needed.

“We will be right back. Trust us. Just enjoy the snow-“ They winked, before running back inside. You were a bit confused, but figured better not to question it. They were the twins after all. You made a guess someone’s going to be set on fire.

Seems you were right. It was a little while, but you soon saw the gaggle of school yard bully’s run outside. Their hair indeed on fire, and faces flushed heavily. As if they ate some kind of spicy candy.

They were all so desperate to stop the heat, and were soon all jumping into snow banks. Desperate to stop the burning. Just rolling around, and making a scene. Was such a sight, as they melted the snow. Reached the earth under it, and they were soon covered in mud. Cooled off, but a mess.

“Oink oink, wankers-!” The twins shouted, and laughed. Many of the fellow students pointed as well. Those prefects were in their own little mud baths. All to be pointed at, with laughter and mockery.

“Hey, we got some cool candy that Mrs. Flume wants us to test out. Let’s hit up The Three Broomsticks to try it out-!” George would cheer, as he held up the large bag of sweets. A mixture of bought, gifted, and experimental.

With Fred helping you stand up, to give you some pride and dignity, you would look through the open doorway. There was Mrs. Flume. She seemed to be closing the lid to a candy jar full of red little balls of sweets. When you two met eyes, she gave a hush. With a wink. You would nod your head to her, with a smile, before the twins yanked you off to your next adventure.

“I see someone took up your advice on prank candy.” You giggled, as those twins gave gasps. Making ‘who, us?!’ And fake looks of disbelief. That just had you all laughing even more, as they kept up the dramatic little scene of pretend innocents.

The day could have gone better, but then again the twins found a way to indeed make it better anyway. Such as snuggling with you in a booth. No shame between you three, as you enjoyed a nice hot meal. With butterbeer, and your favorite sweets. A day to just enjoy yourself. Cheat days were needed in life anyway.

You still were a little self conscious, but the twins were happy to help you in whatever direction you went. To be your biggest cheerleader for if you wanted to lose weight, or be your knights in shining armor for if you were contented with just the way you are.

Either way, you’ll never say no to the pure comfort of sharing sweets with the people you found sweet.

[lizzy019]

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓇𝑒 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 "𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐻𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈" 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒜 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃!

Dom!Dallas Winston x Plus-size Fem!Reader x Sub!Johnny Cade

cw -> insecurities, polyamorous relationship, slight somnophilia, squ¡rt¡ng :))

Word Count -> 1.5K

Did you know in the late 50s and early 60s, being more weighty was actually the beauty standard because it showed wealth?

Happily sitting on Dally’s bed with a drink in hand, you hesitantly tap at the material of the beverage with intentless energy. You were simply bored hearing Dally rant to Johnny about Sylvia, and comforting Dally wasn’t an easy feat anyway.

Johnny was skilled at it, offering an ear for him and some occasional words of encouragement and enthusiasm, but it hurt a bit to see Johnny so optimistic for his friends but never himself.

You resonated with that realization.

Your drink was placed down by your own doing, and you offered Dallas a cigarette while lighting your own. Gladly, he took it and lit it, breathing it in a sighing.

“I put in all that time for her, man. I gave her everything, just for her to bang another asshole who probably doesn’t have any more manners than I do,” He complained, looking at Johnny with a smile.

“You don’t gotta worry about that though, man. You’ll pick up a girl, most like ‘em sweet anyways.”

Johnny’s expression grew soft with glee, eyes wide in surprise as he nodded with vigor. He was excited for that, who wouldn’t be?

Seeing him all happy made you smile too, and a gentle hand came to rub his back out of kindness. Johnny’s head plopped itself to your shoulder, using it as a temporary pillow.

“Tired?” You asked softly, gently playing with his hair and resting your cheek against his head. A nod was your only reply.

“Johnny man, you’re hoggin’ her attention, you lil shit.” Dallas murmured, playfully heaving Johnny away to wrap his long arms around your body.

It was a tight, energetic hug, one that had a small pink hue flutter onto your cheeks and nose. Hugs were nice, especially when you received them from the people closest to you.

“Gotten squishy? Sweetheart, you’re so warm.” Dally murmured with a smirk, gently pulling away to squeeze the soft fat of your tummy. It always made you a bit self conscious, but Dally and Johnny were always the most supportive and loving of it.. in their own ways.

Johnny often kissed the fat on your tummy, squeezed your thick thighs and enjoyed having your weight on his lap, or the other way around. Dallas liked slapping your ass, groping your tits and pinching your muffin tops. He just liked that everything was more full on your body.

So while Johnny was cuddled at your hip, breathing in your sweet smell and kissing your neck thoughtfully whenever he got the chance, and Dallas was squeezing your breasts and holding you both near, you decided that it’d be a wonderful time to take a nap.

So while your eyes fluttered shut and everything dulled to a dark serenity of sleep, you found yourself briefly lamenting falling asleep and not being able to see your two lovelies all happy and cozy.

But a small kiss from Dally to your forehead pushed those worrisome thoughts away, and with happy intent, you drifted off to the serene solace of sleep.

Waking up to whimpers and pushes of your body, you opened your eyes to see Dally and Johnny bare in front of you on their knees, chatting hurriedly as Dally fisted his erect cock.

“Johnny man, you’re worryin’ too much. You know she won’t mind, so what’s a’matter?” Dally groaned in complaint, watching Johnny try to cover his obvious erection pushing the inside of his jeans.

“Dal, it just don’t feel right. I love her, I don’t wanna break her trust. What if she ain’t comfortable with this kinda stuff? What if she wakes up? I dunno, Dal, I don’t wanna do it.” Johnny mumbled, his hands carefully rubbing your hip as you acted asleep.

You could feel your heart swell when Johnny spoke so firmly about what he thought would do you best, and you swore that it had your clit twitching so happily, you would’ve moaned out if you weren’t so adamant on having them not wake you.

“Man, you’re such a pussy. Move, I’ll do it myself.” Dally grumbled, moving a finger to your core and gestured for Johnny to spread your legs.

His lovely boney hands grasped at your thick thighs, opening them for Dally’s entry. All while Dallas looked at your pussy suspiciously and sighed.

“Doll, we know you’re awake now. Stop fakin’, just open your eyes.” Dally groaned, slapping your ass lightly and smirking.

At those words, you chuckled lightly and opened your eyes without reticence or hesitance, smiling widely at the two of them. It was weird seeing Johnny beside you with his hands firmly holding your thighs and Dally hovering over you, a smirk on his face and an erect cock in his hand.

“G’mornin’ sweetheart. You’re gonna take my cock in this pretty pussy, yeah?” Dally murmured, smiling.

Your smile faded a little, your hand pulling the shirt on your torso down to hide your apron belly. This wasn’t expected! Johnny was in the right for that, you didn’t want it.

Johnny noticed instantly, and scooped your heavy body onto his with care. This had you smiling wide, and your hands gently held his knees.

“It won’t be that bad, sugar. I’ve got you, don’t I? Come on, we’ll do the hard part together. Lift your arms.” Johnny hummed softly, easing your worry slightly.

So with reluctance, your hands went up and Johnny’s hands gently pulled your shirt off of your body. Mortification swam through your whole soul, and Johnny was instantly satisfied with the sight of your chubby stomach all rolled up so cutely.

“That’s my pretty baby. Look atchu, so gorgeous and soft.” Johnny hummed, hugging you tight from behind as he unclipped your bra for Dally’s greedy sight.

“Cute love handles and stomach rolls, huh Dal?”

You smiled at Johnny’s praise, but Dally wasn’t adamant on doing the same. He spread your pussy lips apart and rammed his length into your core, causing a yelped moan to escape you.

“Oh, Dally! Fuck!” You cried out, your hands seizing Johnny’s knees tightly as your legs shivered in surrender.

Johnny couldn’t deny that the scene in front of him was getting to his innocent mind, but something about it was erotic. Maybe it was how loud you moaned, maybe it was how aggressive Dally was being with you, or the way your puffed out stomach jiggled whenever his hips hit yours.

Whatever it was, it had his cock fully erect in his pants, and he lightly grinded it against your rear to relieve some of the pressure from the confines of his jeans. Unfortunately, it didn’t work all that well.

“Johnny, take it out! I wanna be double penetrated, please!” You whined out, tears in your eyes from the ecstasy Dally was handing to you.

Johnny froze at your sudden request, giving you a skeptical look and thinking thoughtfully on an answer for you. While he didn’t wish to do it out of safety reasons, he wanted to see if you could handle it and how loudly you’d scream for them.

So with some hesitance, Johnny unzipped his jeans and shifted his boxer briefs down a bit to let his cock spring free and present itself to you.

With some hesitation and worry, Johnny adjusted you properly before he gently speared his cock into your walls, Dally giving a whimper at the sudden pressure before it was a combination of movements.

Dallas was mindlessly squeezing your breasts, while Johnny was working your clit. The overstimulation was making an orgasm bubble deep within your stomach, the cord of pure passion was beginning to tighten almost painfully.

Soon enough, the cord in your stomach snapped and shot out arousal fluid to Dally’s lower stomach. This had him pause entirely, causing Johnny to stop as well.

“Sweetheart, you just made a mess on me. You felt that good? Ay Johnny, man, we gotta do this more often if she reacts like this.” Dally smirked, wiping your cum from his torso before continuing his thrusts again.

Johnny nodded, moaning alongside you as he creeped up the staircase to cloud nine. Dally could feel it, the way Johnny slowed down his pace because it started feeling “too good.”

“No, you keep poundin’ her. Break this little pussy, yeah? Make her moan for us.” Dally commanded, thrusting into you a few more times before he toppled over the edge of pure congenial ecstasy.

The thrusts of Dallas rubbing against Johnny had the brown boy spurting out his seed too, moaning and whimpering until they both finally pulled out, only for a puddle of all three of yours’ cum dripping out onto the mattress below.

You were mindlessly twitching and teary-eyeing the two, eventually becoming faint from the overstimulation and pain in your uterus from the double penetration.

Luckily, they were both there, rubbing your thighs and stomach as you fell to a calm sleep.