#lucien flores x fat female reader

[missredherring]

Trying Something New

Lucien Flores x Fat F!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 2k

Position: Crying Out

Contents: established relationship. sexting. m!masturbation. so much kissing. cunnilingus. unprotected piv.

Summary: “Back in town tonight. Sex? Pls?”

A/N: It's here! My offering for @prolix-yuy's Bangathon '24!! I took the easy route with the plot, but idk. I have so much admiration for LJ and how she wove story and smut together in her own Bangathon. How'd she do it? Raw talent (and magic?).

I saw the position the wheel of destiny gave me and thought, "How would that work with a bigger body?" With modifications, of course!

Not beta read. All mistakes are mine.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

“Back in town tonight. Sex? Pls?”

The mug just touches your mouth when you read Lucien’s text, the steam settling on your upper lip. You wipe it away as you think it over, taking stock of how you’re feeling. His request definitely piques your interest. 

“Make sure to bring that cologne I like. The pillows don't smell like you anymore when I fuck myself into them.”

“Thank fuck. You’re so good to me, baby.”

That's all the permission he needs. The texts start coming in before you even get to work.

“Your clit is my favorite fidget toy.”

“Hands down.”

“Your pants. Haha.”

It’s early, so no one’s around to hear you snort. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

His reply is quick. “Got lots of time on my hands rn. Wish they were on you instead.”

Another one comes in during a meeting that could’ve been an email: “I've been dreaming about the way you feel when you thrust back into me.”

Maybe Lucien has a sixth sense for when you need a mood-boost, because the next one comes in right in the middle of a coworker asking such an inane question that it makes you worried for their mental well-being: “I’ve been dreaming about the sounds you let out when I fuck you so good, you forget to keep quiet. I need to hear them again.”

He sends you a voice memo at lunch.

Under the louder moans and panting you can pick up slick squelches, and picture each stroke of his cock that makes them. Maybe he's using spit, or lube, or even his own precum to ease the friction and make it sound just so enticing. 

It's only a minute and a half long, and ends abruptly when someone pounds on the door to tell Lucien that the ride to the airport is waiting for him. The way he curses and sighs, giving his cock one last stroke before stopping the recording, has your toes curling. You know how those curses feel when he spits them on your skin. 

Your ear is sore from how hard you press your phone into it to catch every moan. Then you remember the earphones in your bag and allow yourself to listen to it just one more time. 

The ache between your legs is simmering away nicely, and when you step into the bathroom to touch yourself a little, to tend to that ache before it boils over, you aren't surprised to see the damp spot on your underwear. It's shiny and gives away exactly where you've been rubbing against the seam of your pants for a little friction.

At least the horrible fluorescent lighting highlights the contrast of wet and dry fabric as you take a picture and send it to him with the caption: “Thinking of you.”

You force yourself to focus on work for the rest of the day, even as the wetness between your thighs keeps Lucien in the back of your mind, waiting.

When the last few minutes in your shift are ticking away you open the text thread.

“Fuck you.” 

“Promise.”

“The way you wiggle your hips to rub your clit on me just right to get yourself off. Fuck.”

“Just landed. Omw. Can't wait to see you.”

“Stretch before I get there. I want to try something new.”

Uh oh.

The scrape of a key in the lock announces his arrival as you spread out on the floor of your apartment. He comes in and drops his duffel bag at the door and you watch him look around from your place on the floor where you're stretching like he told you to.

Lucien lights up when he finds you in his scan of the room, his shoulders dropping while he shuffles his way over to you. You only have a moment to take in the way his face relaxes before he’s on his knees, draping himself over you and pushing you down on the floor with the dead weight of his body. 

The sigh he pushes out of your lungs is heavy, trapped between the hard floor and him, but as you both rearrange various body parts to get more comfortable you feel the fog of the workday lifting from you. 

The floor is cold on your back, but it’s nice after a hot day, and it helps combat Lucien’s body heat that’s starting to seep into you. 

He hums when you start to stroke through his hair. It’s a little oily, but still soft as you tangle your fingers through it.

The smell of cigarette smoke wafts up from where he’s nuzzling into your ribs, but that’s preferable to the stale airplane air that tends to cling to him after flights. 

“Thanks for all the dirty texts today. They made a shitty day better.”

He lifts his head a little to see over your chest and puts those brown eyes to work. You're sure he's getting a fantastic view of your double chins with the way you have to crane your neck to look at him, but his eyes stay on yours, his expression earnest.

”Good,” he says, “I thought I was annoying you since you didn't respond much.”

“I was busy; I'm sorry.”

The mood is relaxed but all it takes is a twitch of his mouth and a flick of his eyes down your body to change it. 

“Not too busy to send me pics of your wet panties though, huh?” He shifts to one side and runs his hands up your legs and over your stomach, playing with the hem of your pants. “I wanna see them. See if they’re still wet.” 

You roll your eyes. “I changed when I got home.”

Deft fingers pull your pants down and away, and you bask in the feeling of satisfaction at his delighted gasp when he finds out that you hadn’t replaced said wet underwear when you changed. Why would you when Lucien was on his way over?

He wastes no time: spreading you apart and lapping at you like he’s gone all day without anything to wet his tongue. Soon you’re shuddering your way through an orgasm and pulling him up for a kiss, unable to go any longer without his mouth on yours, even with your slick smeared across it.

Has he registered the move? With the way he’s sucking, your tongue and clit could be interchangeable. He doesn’t look surprised to see your face when he pulls back with a pop. 

“Remember when I said I wanted to try something new? It’s a position, no kinks. Do you still want to do it?” 

“If it involves your dick inside of me, then yes.”

The crow’s feet dig in deeper around his eyes when he grins. While you take off your remaining piece of clothing he wrestles with his until you’re both naked and you can’t look away from his bobbing dick as he crawls to you on his knees. A drop of precum falls from the tip and your tongue twitches with the need to catch it and taste him.

In front of you again, he shifts to sit on his ass and spreads his legs wide open. His big hands are all over you, gripping your wide hips and urging them forward until you’re notched together, shuddering at the heat burning between your legs. 

Lucien can’t be near you without kissing you, so he tells you his idea between peppering kisses along your plumps cheeks and the slope of your jaw. 

“I was thinking about when I fucked you with your toy last time, and you,” a nip here instead on your chin, “kept it inside when you went to clean up in the bathroom.” Another sucking kiss to your lips. “Do you remember how you rocked on the edge of the bed, just a little, before you got up?”

“No… I was more concerned with getting the least amount of cum on the sheets as possible.” 

“Mmm,” he rubs down your leg and wiggles a hand under one knee, slowly lifting it to drape over the arm still anchored to your hip. “Lean back on your hands and lift your other leg.” 

You end up supporting your weight on your hands behind you with your knees clinging to his biceps. Once your legs are secure over his arms he moves his hands up your torso, to rest just under your breasts. 

It might work; you can see where his mind connected the dots. The way your hips are angled is good, with his dick rubbing on your clit. It would be a nice grind when he’s inside you, but there’s an issue his search hasn’t factored in: your stomach. You’re almost folded in half with gravity doing you no favors in this vertical position.with your legs up  this high, your thighs are pushing your stomach up into your torso and chest. It’s a little hard to breathe, let alone move freely, and your hands are already feeling the stress of supporting your weight on the floor. 

“This isn't going to work this way.” You say, breaking the bad news quickly. Lucien frowns, all the excitement draining from him. It’s a little saddening, the way you free yourself from his hold so easily.

With a firm tug, you get him on his feet, using his hanging head to your advantage. 

“Look at me, baby. Kiss me,” you tell him.

He does, but it’s only a light press of his lips as disappointment sets in. It tips into ridiculousness when his mouth trembles a little from the force of his frown and you laugh in his face. 

“C’mon. I know you’re a better actor than that. We just have to make some adjustments.”

With his hand still in yours, you lead him to the bedroom and push him down onto the mattress, directing him to sit up near the headboard. 

The wedge pillow is fished from the closet and you chuck it to Lucien, clambering onto the bed with a bounce in your step, and everything else really. You’re excited now, and quickly get back into position. The pillow gives you more support under your hips so you don’t feel like you’re going to immediately fall backwards if you lose your grip on his shoulders, and the mattress is always more comfortable than the floor. 

When you hook your legs back over his arms you keep them lower by his elbows instead of his biceps, and the wider angle doesn’t push your thighs up straight into the rest of your body. Lifting and moving your stomach out of the way eases the pressure even more and you’re able to think about other things instead of the ability to take in a lung-full of air.

Satisfied, you look up to find Lucien watching you, the ruddy head of his cock peaking out from the clench of his fist as he touches himself. The edge of your confidence is sharpened on the lust written all over his face and you preen, rolling your shoulders and arching your back a little. The way his eyes track the movement of your breasts makes you smile.

“See something you like, handsome?” 

“Whenever I’m looking at you.”

A helpful dollop of lube makes the slide of his cock pushing in at this new angle good. 

He was right. The pleasure is building, and you realize what he was talking about now that it’s happening long enough for you to really feel it. The head brushes along your g-spot with every rock of his hips and you let your head drop back with a groan. Your hips join his in the rhythm he’s established and the meeting of bodies in the middle make you both moan, his hands gripping into the soft skin of your middle reflexively.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp out, “that’s so good, Luci.”

A low rumbling noise comes from him and he looks proud, pleased with himself. This is new. He doesn’t speed up or slam into you, seeking his own pleasure like he usually does, dragging you along for the ride. Instead he watches how your expression shifts, learns what your body likes, and applies it all with enthusiasm. 

Maybe you’re both trying something new tonight.

[missredherring]

Hungry Eyes

Lucien Flores x Fat Female Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 440

Summary: Lucien thinks he probably gets to fuck you in that light. The lucky bastard. 

Contents: Ex lovers. Allusions to internalized fatphobia. Mentions of past sex. Smoking. Yearning.

A/N: I can't resist this man and his big doe eyes and I'm ok with that.

This doesn't contain any spoilers for The Uninvited.

Tagging some who might be interested: @boliv-jenta @ezrasbirdie @psychedelic-ink @covetyou @janaispunk @swiftispunk @undercoverpena @perotovar @oonajaeadira

Not beta read, as the shower oracle intended.

You look beautiful tonight. 

You always look pretty, gorgeous, sexy, slutty, cute. His favorite look of yours is when you're sweaty, covered in cum with a dazed look on your face, but tonight is something different and this look is gunning for first place.

The hanging lights strung around the backyard give you a glow. It's not as bright as the glow of confidence you're giving off though. You could be the subject of a portrait of wealth and prosperity that old masters were paid handsomely for.

Your dress is more revealing than anything he's seen you wear when you were together. You'd allowed a peak of your decolletage before, but this plunging neckline makes his mouth water. 

The construction doesn't hide or distract the eye from what lies beneath, but accentuates and flatters it. The heavy swell of your belly hangs between your wide hips and your hands are relaxed, gesturing as you talk with your guests, instead of plucking at the fabric to pull it away and obscure your shape.

A man Lucien's seen orbiting around you comes to your side and hands you a drink. He's closer to you than is polite, leaning into your personal space to kiss your temple, your cheek, and then the round double chin just under your jaw. You tip your head back to give him better access and flash him a smile when he moves back. His hand travels up the curve of your ass to your waist and you don't look around to see who could be watching when his hand rests on the rolls of skin on your torso, fingers cupping there and thumb swiping over the roll where your bra band sits and drives you nuts because there isn't one on the other side and the band on the smoother side rolls up throughout the day. 

You don't shy away from his touch in front of others.

Do you still have that bedside lamp that threw soft light over you, that made him itch to explore you with his hands, his mouth, his dick, anything you’d allow, but you'd click it off just as he was opening your legs?

Lucien thinks he probably gets to fuck you in that light. The lucky bastard. 

He takes another drag, the taste of the cigarette reminding him of how you'd wrinkle your nose when you’d kiss him right after he'd been smoking. It's another bad habit he's quit, but tonight he's filling his lungs and using the burning paper as an excuse to linger at the party. Giving him more time to study your Mona Lisa smile from across the yard.

[missredherring]

Lucien Flores is still hanging around and the shower oracle was kind to me this morning so I'm working on:

Lucien yearns after his hot fat babe ex.

Hopefully I'll have something ready later. It's going to be short and sweet and angsty.

[readingiskeepingmegoing]

This man is destroying my sanity!

Hungry Eyes

Lucien Flores x Fat Female Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 440

Summary: Lucien thinks he probably gets to fuck you in that light. The lucky bastard. 

Contents: Ex lovers. Allusions to internalized fatphobia. Mentions of past sex. Smoking. Yearning.

A/N: I can't resist this man and his big doe eyes and I'm ok with that.

This doesn't contain any spoilers for The Uninvited.

Tagging some who might be interested: @boliv-jenta @ezrasbirdie @psychedelic-ink @covetyou @janaispunk @swiftispunk @undercoverpena @perotovar

Not beta read, as the shower oracle intended.

You look beautiful tonight. 

You always look pretty, gorgeous, sexy, slutty, cute. His favorite look of yours is when you're sweaty, covered in cum with a dazed look on your face, but tonight is something different and this look is gunning for first place.

The hanging lights strung around the backyard give you a glow. It's not as bright as the glow of confidence you're giving off though. You could be the subject of a portrait of wealth and prosperity that old masters were paid handsomely for.

Your dress is more revealing than anything he's seen you wear when you were together. You'd allowed a peak of your decolletage before, but this plunging neckline makes his mouth water. 

The construction doesn't hide or distract the eye from what lies beneath, but accentuates and flatters it. The heavy swell of your belly hangs between your wide hips and your hands are relaxed, gesturing as you talk with your guests, instead of plucking at the fabric to pull it away and obscure your shape.

A man Lucien's seen orbiting around you comes to your side and hands you a drink. He's closer to you than is polite, leaning into your personal space to kiss your temple, your cheek, and then the round double chin just under your jaw. You tip your head back to give him better access and flash him a smile when he moves back. His hand travels up the curve of your ass to your waist and you don't look around to see who could be watching when his hand rests on the rolls of skin on your torso, fingers cupping there and thumb swiping over the roll where your bra band sits and drives you nuts because there isn't one on the other side and the band on the smoother side rolls up throughout the day. 

You don't shy away from his touch in front of others.

Do you still have that bedside lamp that threw soft light over you, that made him itch to explore you with his hands, his mouth, his dick, anything you’d allow, but you'd click it off just as he was opening your legs? Lucien thinks he probably gets to fuck you in that light. The lucky bastard. 

He takes another drag, the taste of the cigarette reminding him of how you'd wrinkle your nose when you’d kiss him right after he'd been smoking. It's another bad habit he's quit, but tonight he's filling his lungs and using the burning paper as an excuse to linger at the party. Giving him more time to study your Mona Lisa smile from across the yard.