#x plussized reader

[jakessbtch]

☆ party | j.g

masterlist | requests

TW ✿  °   : mentions of drugs/alcohol, swearing, drinking, arguing/angst, mentions of drunken sex, sexual implications.

pairing   ✿  °   : johnnie guilbert x plus-sized reader [s/h]

summary of fic ✿  °   : After getting home from a party, where everything went wrong, she brings up an event.

requested by  ✿  ° : no-one​

word count   ✿  °   : 7k

a/n ✿  °   : its finally here! after weeks! x

Parties were probably the worst thing known to mankind. They were so horribly messy, forcing a bunch of horny and carefree young adults, barely over 21, into a 2-bedroom house, with barely any room to walk. Typically, it was so full that the countless people who decided to waste their time and attend, would spill helplessly into the front and backyard, where they’d either find someone vulnerable to grind on or a bush to throw their guts up in. There would be loud rave music, and discarded items of food, just waiting for the unfortunate to slip on, and did I have to add the common issue of no room to breathe? I mean sure, there were a few bare sofas, and dining room chairs in which were free for rest, but they were for the losers who couldn’t speak to other people. For the losers who showed up to the event alone, or had their companions desert them earlier that night, right? right. And that was where I was sat, in the kitchen which was filled with discarded cups, and few people seeking for more alcohol.

Anxiety crippled through my chest as I observed all those around me, laughing, and having fun. There were so many people, and not one face I could recognize. I deemed that this whole night had been a waste. My friends had left me to stand alone in a crowded room, and my best friend, Johnnie, left me to fight against the cruel world of drunken slurs and catcalls I couldn’t prevent. I was so scared, what if someone tried to do something, hurt me, fight me? So many prying and disgusted eyes. No matter where I glanced, someone was watching me, with awkward smiles, and looks that poked at my appearance. My big and foul appearance. This wasn’t my crowd, these weren’t my people, just look at me. I was wearing baggy grey jeans and some jacket I grabbed off the floor, which probably hadn’t been washed in a week. While every other girl I saw, wore skims and crop tops, showing off their little waists, while I tried to hide my big one.

My hand cautiously grabbed a hold of my phone, the grip tight and very much laced with hidden fear. Being on my phone was the best scenario, it would be a silent sign to passers, that I was busy in a text conversation. When I brought up the familiar note’s app, I prayed no one saw the screen. Not only would I be at a party alone, but being so much of a loser that I couldn’t even involve myself with a text interaction? All I could think of in that moment was, if it was somewhat believable. Would someone still want to speak with me? Was I shaking? I was sure I was shaking, but could other people see it? I closed my e/c eyes for a moment, trying to regulate my anxious breaths. The thick scent of weed and cigarettes filled my lungs, still not seemingly putting my mind at rest. Wasn’t that the whole point of smoking and weed? It was all so stupid now, I had always been told to ease up at events, but why not now? Why was it so difficult now that I was sitting by myself?

“You’re sitting alone. Are you alright, y/n?”

I flinched at the sudden voice, someone wanted to speak to me. my eyes instantly flashed up, them laced with all the pent-up fear I had experienced, but for the first time that night, I was relieved. Sam Golbach, someone I barely knew, someone I hardly spoke to. Though, someone to finally accompany me. Sam used to live in the same house as my friend, Jake Webber, who I used to work for at the time, with editing. Jake and I are really close, I thought of him as a brother, which meant that at some point, I’d meet his other friends, Sam, Colby Brock, and Corey Shearer. Jake always took me to small gatherings and social groups the group would shamelessly create on Friday nights. Though, during those late nights, I never stayed long, I never stayed long enough to become close with all his friends. Yet, I did stay long enough to enjoy Sam’s generous company. I offered Sam and gentle smile at his wanted concern, pulling my h/c hair out of my eyes.

“I’m fine Sam, I just want to go home. That’s all.”

Sam nodded gently at my sweet confession, his blue eyes swiftly washing over the multiple sexual interactions displayed by passing people. They had a lot of bravery displaying such intimate actions in front of so many people, in front of so many judgmental eyes like my own. However, Sam’s caring eyes diverted back to me, giving me his sole attention and a reassuring smile. His face was full of concern, and I genuinely felt that he cared for me. It seemed that he understood my fear and discomfort in a way, as if he had been in my unfortunate situation before. Sam’s company kept me grounded, the company of someone I knew made me relax. Friendly, small gatherings gave me the feeling I felt during that moment, as I knew mostly everyone who would attend, though here, it was different. I knew very little people, and I was sure everyone here was in the same boat as me. They didn’t know anyone, which made tonight the perfect ‘one-night stand’ breeding ground. A night to live and forget.

“Here, might help?”

I gently took the time in looking down at Sam’s outstretched hand, a singular red polo cup aimed in my direction, filled with a liquid I could only assume was alcohol. I never really drank at parties, because eventually I’d get too carried away, and I’d do regrettable shit that I’d find out the next day, things that would haunt me. As well as the fact, I never took drinks from other people. I didn’t know what would be in them, I’ve heard plenty of spiking stories in my life. Yet, Sam wasn’t just anyone, everyone I knew trusted him. Jake trusted him, Tara, Jake’s ex, trusted him, and Johnnie did too. They were all smart people, knowing right from wrong, and if Johnnie could trust him, a small piece inside of me claimed that I could as well. My hand graciously accepted his offering, deciding that I should just take a single drink for the night, nothing more. Afterall, I would find myself driving someone, if not all my friends, home.

“Thanks. Enough about me, are you having fun?”

My voice was hoarse as I asked him the question, deciding to divert the conversations away from my wellbeing. Who cared if I was having a rough night? Sam should be focusing on the events of his night. My lips graciously sipped the sour alcohol, the soda it was mixed with bubbling in my stomach. Sam spoke with such ease, despite the loudspeakers that sent shockwaves of sound throughout my body, and likely his own. We spoke about a few things; Colby, Creating Content, and parties. However, the conversation drew out, occupying multiple minutes of our time. How late was it? Should I find Johnnie or Tara? Jake would be drunk so he would be no help. When the plaguing thought of leaving Sam filled my mind, he beat me to the quick goodbye we shared, claiming that he had to find Colby. I was grateful for that, as the red polo cup had been emptied, and I was sick of the constant rave music radiating off the walls.

“Sorry.” “Excuse me.”

Walking through that huge and messy crowd might as well had been the worst decision I could have possibly made. No one cared that I was there, as I was being tossed around like a dog’s used chew toy. Thrown into wooden furniture as if I was nothing. All I wanted to do was turn around and yell at the rude obnoxious assholes who made my search longer, and slightly more painful. As a final resort, to get out of the sweaty and foul crowd, my hands had traced along the wall, trying to find an empty hall, or vacant room, where I could catch a breath. Where I could have a moment alone. While I was searching for the said unoccupied room, and my missing friends, I was quickly starting to tire, still regretting this whole night. I wanted to leave, and sooner than ever, why was it so hard? Suddenly, after what felt like forever, I felt a door slip from underneath my fingers, and I had never been quicker to realize that it was an unlocked room, praying that it was empty.

The minute I was blessed with the muffled music, and the loss of sweaty bodies, I had slammed the white wooden door. The silence accepted me so easily and fondly, and for the first time that night I felt relieved. I turned around with closed and relaxed eyes, not taking note of the pair who were comfortably sat on the sofa, seemingly a while before I got there. Though when a dainty and polite cough reached my aching ears, I practically jumped out of my skin. I had no idea what to expect walking into that room, a blow job, boobs? No, none of those. What I was faced with was a really pretty girl, and the last person I’d expect her with. Johnnie Guilbert. Though I didn’t care about him, what I cared about was how pretty that girl was. She had long dyed pink hair, piercing blue eyes you couldn’t forget. She was so slim as well, the complete opposite of me. when I looked at her, the hatred for myself grew. The hatred for my weight, for my skin, it just seeped into my chest, like venom. I wanted to cry, to throw up, to get rid of this suffocating feeling. I wanted to be the girl Johnnie was so clearly interested in.

A small part of me had been crushed that moment, my heart. Everyone around me knew I liked Johnnie, God, even he probably knew. I was so obvious with my feelings, complimenting him when I could, giggling whenever someone said Johnnie and I looked cute together, but he was so insufferable and awkward to say anything about it. He avoided every question about us, so I took the hint that he hated the thought of a relationship with me. That feeling wasn’t foreign, it happened a lot when you looked like me. Boys gushed about having a ‘bigger girlfriend���, but when they had the chance, they were so quick to shut it down. They didn’t care about us, they cared about a good social image. With that image came feelings, the feeling of hate, and a feeling I felt that johnnie had. I wasn’t over my own opposite feelings, and with Johnnie abandoning me during the first 5 minutes to likely speak to this girl, if felt like a sucker punch to the stomach.

I felt sick looking at the two, the serotonin radiating off of them like a heater, though, I suppressed those gut-wrenching feelings. I had to come to the realization that Johnnie wasn’t the one for me. He was the one for her, her face was red under the dim lights, her smile stretched across the room, and his face reciprocated hers. He was happy with her, and I was happy for him, even if that meant the own destruction of myself. The destruction of my romantic interest, I’d have to destroy it, for him. I waved to the two awkwardly, my e/c eyes cautiously flickering back and forth between the two. Then, silence fell on the three of us, awkwardness. I tried to speak, but nothing came out, why couldn’t I speak? Where was Jake and Tara? I wanted Tara so desperately, I wanted to tell her to drive me home, to get me out of here, to get me home. Johnnie coughed awkwardly when he noticed my trance, and I breathed out, in one shaky break, I whispered.

“I’m going home.”

I had to get out of there, I had to leave the two be. I didn’t realize I was so rude, and I intruded in on something I regretted. Without another word, I left the pair sitting on the white sofa, while I shoved my way back through the messy, carefree crowd. There were no apologies this time, I didn’t care for anyone but myself. I didn’t care about the rude comments about my weight and ignorance, them drowned out by the loud music. Did the music get louder while I was dying emotionally in that room? Was the heater on, why was it warmer? The one thing I knew, was that I needed air. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, there were so many people, so little air. After what felt like forever, I found the front door. When the cool LA air kissed my face, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. The air accepted me openly, putting my nerves at rest, and opening my mind, forgetting the previous events momentarily.

“Hey y/n/n! you alright?”

When the slurred, yet delicate voice was made known to my ears, I immediately knew who it was. Tara, just the person I needed, just the person I wanted. I was going to gush to her about what happened, about how it felt like everything leading to this moment was pointless. I always informed her about my feelings, about everything when it came to relationships. She called it ‘girl-talk’, however, by the tall and giggly man behind her, I held onto my tongue. In such a crowded place, with ears seeking for nothing but drama, someone would tell Johnnie, or that girl. It was all so complicated, and I already had enough of tonight, I didn’t need more. I looked back to the shorter girl, nodding shyly at her generous concern. I wouldn’t tell her about this, sometimes silence would beat the lying, the lying of my wellbeing. Truth was, I wasn’t fine in that moment, though I didn’t have to rudely affect others with my faults.

“I’m going home, tired, are you two driving with someone else?”

Jake started to loudly sing the 2000’s pop-rock song blaring from the confinements in the crowded, messy home, as if he had no care in the world. As if this was his last night alive. My eyes gently down casted to the two, how they seemed to fit right in with this crowd, and the comparison with the fact that I didn’t. I felt so out of place, like a sore thumb. While Tara was one of the most gorgeous women I had ever met, she was the definition of perfect. She looked amazing all the time, wearing cute little outfits, and being so precise with her make up. She was always so confident and kind to her friends and family, she knew how to control her jealousy and all her feelings. And Jake wore skimpy clothes without a worry, wearing crop tops, and styled skinny jeans with fingerless gloves. I envied the both of them, in silence. Tara shrugged nonchalantly, gaining my short attention once more.

“We’ll get someone to drive us, what about Johnnie?”

“What about me?”

I flinched at his sudden introduction, of course he had to appear now, out of all times. Why couldn’t he appear when I was sulking miserably in the kitchen, when I was alone? However, like most times, my bitter attitude was painfully obvious. The sudden distasteful expression I acquired, put Tara off drastically. Her dark brown eyes flickering between the two of us knowingly, as if she somehow knew what had happened minutes before in that room. As if she saw the interaction between the girl, Johnnie and me. When I looked up at Johnnie, I ignored his messy dark hair he hadn’t styled for hours, and the smudged blue eyeshadow spread amongst his eyes. What I did notice was that the girl he was talking to, was now gone. She wasn’t lurking behind him, like a lost dog, she wasn’t at his side. He left her alone like he did me. I bitterly ignored his presence, turning to Tara and clarifying.

“He can come if he wants, but I’m tired. See you two later.”

Biding my goodbyes felt different now, or was that the sinking feeling I had in my stomach? However, besides that uncomfortable feeling, I begged for Tara or Jake to stop me. Yet, with each passing step, and each crunch on the gravel, my hopes drowned out. Though, a new hope sparked, a hope that Johnnie wanted to stay. It was obviously selfish for me to not want him to accompany me, but my night was already ruined, I didn’t need it to get worse. Distracting myself soon occupied my thoughts, my eyes wandering to the various groups of tired people. Their hushed murmurs, and the small giggles that admitted from the social circles, distracted my mind from Johnnie. My hand gripped the car door handle, listening to the bright conversations around me for a few more seconds. Then, I decided it was enough, I decided it was alright for my thoughts to corrupt my mind, and I got into the driver’s seat. The slam of the door never put me at ease, and Johnnie's approaching figure made it worse.

As Johnnie got into the car, and the engine started, my questions started to shamelessly dart around the air. The questions that made grow to hate myself, more and more, with every passing minute. Why did Johnnie leave me to stand there, in a crowd of unknown people, like an idiot? Why did he suddenly become so interested in talking to new people? However, I wasn’t a seeker for the answers I needed, and I remained silent. I continued to ask myself those questions, from the minute I was sitting in that kitchen, to now, driving home in my car. With each passing minute, which felt like hours, the air grew thicker, and my mind ran faster. What were I to do now? How could I get over something so dear to me, how could I get over Johnnie? Did I try dating apps, but who wanted me? Men liked girls who could be picked up, who could wear their clothes as a dress, they didn’t want me. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, my stomach dropping lower than my feet.

When watching the bright street signs flash past the moving car, I simply recalled the fact that Johnnie hated parties like me. That’s actually how we came to be friends, best friends. Every single party, every single gathering, we were attached by the hip. Never apart. We were always together, but that didn’t stop the thought, the thought of; what had changed now? Had I not given Johnnie the validation he needed, did he seek that validation from someone else? Why hadn’t I been enough for him? The feeling of insecurity suffocated my chest again, every time I noticed that the feeling was gone, it resurrected stronger. Why was I feeling like this, why was I so defensive over someone who wasn’t even mine to begin with? Johnnie wasn’t my boyfriend. I had to realize that. He had his own life, and I needed to start living mine, and stop worrying about my looks, and my weight, and how I acted. I had to stop being such a push-over.

When the house rolled into view, I was sure to park on the edge of the road. In a safe area in which I knew I wouldn’t have to pay for insurance. I didn’t share a house with Jake and Johnnie, but I did live around 15 minutes away, not far. Though, I was gravely unsure if I’d stay awake the whole drive back, the settling fear of a collision pictured in my mind. I was sure Jake wouldn’t mind me staying, I’d probably sleep in their unused spare room, and at some ungodly hour of the morning, Tara would join me. My eyes drooped as we made our way to the front of the door, the walk remained silent, and chilling. The only thing making noise were our steps echoing around us. Then, before long, I found myself looking at Johnnie, no, admiring him, but no longer with love, with question. I never questioned our relationship, though now, it was the only thing I could possibly think about.

Johnnie took the honors in locking the front door once the two of us were safely situated inside, while I took my time in wandering to the cleansed kitchen. I didn’t notice the darkened man enter after me at first, though he made himself known when he gently pushed his way past me, looking for something dry to eat. It was a recognized habit johnnie had adapted to after parties, after he drank. If he ate dry foods, he wouldn’t throw up, it was smart. While Johnnie searched the pantry, I remained silent. The silence was thick in the air, only growing with each second, in which I was observing his turned figure. How could he just ignore me? Did he not care, or was it rather that I had to say something to him? Did I ask why he left me to wallow in my own social fear? Ask him what type of confidence had overcome him in those meek few hours we had been apart? I dropped the car keys on the marble countertop, an overwhelming sense of unconscious mind coming over myself.

“Why did you leave me Johnnie?”

“What?”

The gentle slam of the cabinet made fear lurch within my stomach, regret climbing its way into my throat. In that moment, I regretted ever talking, I should have just shut up. When his ice blue eyes rested on my slightly shorter figure, I felt so vulnerable, so afraid. I had a quick tongue, always biting back against strangers, so why was it so different if it was my best friend? Why was I so afraid of being mean to him? At the realization that I was afraid of losing him, I shrugged slowly. This all felt stupid; did I even know what I was meaning anymore? I felt as if I was spitting gibberish. Johnnie’s face was obviously laced with some sort of confusion, and something clicked inside of me during that moment. Something bubbled, a small tinge of anger, clear frustration. I was frustrated with the fact he didn’t seem to understand what I was saying, no one did. I was suddenly glad I had brought up my issue, because now I really saw if he cared or not. It really made me question; did he not care about me anymore? What had changed?

“What do you mean ‘what’? You left me alone at the party, for 2 fucking hours. I didn’t know anyone there!”

My once small and timid voice had now raised higher than it ever had, the anger extremely prominent in my tone. I never got angry at others often, every time I was close to ruining my mood, I would attempt to reason. However, I couldn’t reason now, I wanted answers. There were so many unsaid feelings, that were starting to overload my voice box, begging for release. Though, I never wanted them shown to the world, never wanted to show them to Johnnie. I vowed to keep these feelings to myself, until the time was right, though, was there even a time anymore? Had that time happened long ago, me to oblivious and insecure to realize it? The time had passed for me, and now Johnnie was invested in finding love, him never even waiting for me.

“Whoa, y/n... look- “

“No! Do you know how embarrassed I was? Sitting alone!? I was petrified!”

Johnnie’s right hand made no attempt to silence the loud slam from the closing cupboard door, his frustration and annoyance radiating alongside my own feelings and emotions. However, I didn’t care how he felt anymore, because he didn’t care about me. My feelings weren’t relevant to him tonight. Johnnie’s large black boots made a loud thump on the cold tiles, him not hesitating to step in my direction. The contortion of his once calm face gave me a silent sign that he was trying to control the anger that was begging to be shown to the world, but that made me the slightest bit more frustrated. Why was he angry at my reaction, why was he mad? He had spent his night laughing along with one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen, he should be ecstatic about tonight, he should be happy, right? I rolled my e/c at his attitude, I wanted to drop the situation, ignore it, though I wanted answers more. I wanted to know why.

“It had always been you and I together at parties, and now you run off! What about me Johnnie!? Fucking say something!”

“I… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

An apology would be amazing, though I didn’t say that. What did happen at his response was the expected rage burning through me at his nonchalant attitude, why couldn’t he just say sorry? Before I could think, my body reacted with my hands throwing my car keys into the walls. With the sudden adrenaline, and the lack of realization to what I had just done, I ignored Johnnie’s hard flinch at my actions. I didn’t care. I was sick of being overlooked, sick of being called the ‘fat friend’, sick of being that friend that had no other emotion apart from humor and platonic love for others. Ultimately, I was sick and tired of being hurt. I had anger, and sadness, and jealousy, and I was sick of hiding it away. So, I wouldn’t be a push over anymore, and within a few silent and short moments, and little hurried words, all those emotions spilled out, along with wet, fat tears and stuttering. With a big shaky breath in, I dryly whispered to the boy.

“Do… do you know how many people pointed and laughed at me? yeah, ‘let’s laugh at the bigger girl, who looks as if she’s never been to a party before’...”

“y/n... come on, you- “

“Sam had to sit with me! Ou-out of pity too! You should’ve been there Johnnie! But you were talking... with some girl… and leaving me behind…”

My once confident voice noticeably cracked towards the end of my sentence, the pain in my tightening chest making itself obvious to Johnnie. The only thing I could think about was how embarrassing this was, being jealous over something out of my control. I wanted to run away and hide, forget this conversation ever happened, maybe even leave the country if I was lucky enough? But I couldn’t just do that, I had to face this at some point, especially since I brought up this whole situation. I would never tell Johnnie how jealous I was, how jealous I was of that unnamed girl, I wouldn’t even tell Tara, one of my closest friends, I vowed take my feelings to the grave with me. Until death. In the sudden silence, I never looked at Johnnie, afraid of what his expression was. Was he disgusted? Humiliated? I was, with myself. My left hand hastily brought itself up to caress my pudgy wet cheeks, trying to hide the mascara filled tear stains that had blossomed in the midst’s of my outburst.

“So, you’re jealous?”

Johnnie’s voice was clearly tired, however, by his groggy and annoyed voice, I simply got the overwhelming feeling of butterflies. Though the feeling of being flustered soon was overcome with anger, and sudden disbelief. Out of everything I said, he came up with the thing I already knew. My jealousy, I wouldn’t tell him that I was of course, it was only fuel for the ego that was taller than he was. The ego that I seemed to hate so much. I wanted to rip all my hair out, asking myself; why couldn’t he just understand me for once? I wanted to slap his pretty little face, I wanted to explode with anger, I wanted to tell him how I’d leave him here to rot alone, though when I opened my mouth, jaw slack, nothing seemed to come out. Nothing but silence. Nothing but heavy breaths, for a long unwanted moment. Then, once again before thinking, a small anger-filled whisper managed to roll itself off my tongue.

“I am not jealous.”

“Then why are you acting like this?!”

His voice sounded desperate for answers, answers I didn’t know if he wanted to hear. He sounded like me, so pained, and upset, but I wondered; Did he want to hear about how scared I am of his feelings, of my own feelings? Did he want to hear that I have loved him for months on end, picturing a future where we stood in front of a suburban home with two kids and a dog? Did he want to hear that I am convinced I am in love with him? Because I believed no one has been in love with him for as long as I have, I believed that my feelings weren’t just a crush. I cried most nights, wondering why I didn’t make a move when we hung out, or why he didn’t compliment me one night when I looked my best, I believed these feelings were not normal. Johnnie needed an explanation to my actions, an explanation to why I had yelled at him, why I was so suddenly aggressive. My e/c eyes cautiously rose to look at his saddened blue ones, and the silence settled once more. With another shaky breath, I explained everything to him.

“Because I’m scared Johnnie. I’m scared of you loving someone else, I’m scared of being hurt, and being forgotten.”

And for the first time that night, I finally felt heard. Johnnie sheepishly nodded at what I said, eyes down casting to the floor and sucking in his lips, deep in thought. This situation had been dragged out for months, years if you looked close enough, and it was so clearly affecting everyone around me, around us. When I told Tara my feelings, she had made a huge effort to pair the two of us together, while Jake would band along with her, contributing to her actions. Though, when Johnnie would decline any offer, I’d get disappointed, I’d be upset, and thoughts would plague my mind. My drowned moods would suffocate everyone else too, them getting a fowl taste in their mouths over the two of us, and our attitudes. Tara would express her concern, and Jake would ask to make it all better for us. And I would decline or ignore them, because it was my issue, not theirs. Now, after months, I was finally addressing it, because I was tired, so tired, tired of running a race that Johnnie never showed up for, tired of putting my all into something I wasn’t benefiting off of.

“So that’s why I’ve been acting like a ‘jealous’ and ‘lonely’ bitch.”

“What if I’m scared too?”

My stomach simply lurched at Johnnie’s hoarse voice speaking above my own. The newer question was brought to my attention. Why was he scared? He didn’t harbor such feelings for me, right? I racked my brain for reasons, reasons for why he would like me, and it slowly started to make sense, slowly started to make itself known to my consciousness. I would remember the way his hand would linger around my own, afraid of touch, or the way he would be ghastly concerned if I drank more than 3 drinks at a party or gathering. The way he would care for me. I always brushed it off as something friends did, I had seen plenty of friends upset over drinking habits, and holding hands, so was it really different for us? I wanted to cry again, cry at the intruding thoughts, though I felt numb now, like I had drained every feeling I once had before. How did I ignore all of this, and was it too late? Too late to apologize and erase all this from my mind? I covered my reddening face with my hands, too embarrassed to face my simple realization, and all the tiredness I was unaware of crashing into my mind like a wild tsunami wave.

“What if I’m scared of dating again? What if I’m scared, I’m going to hurt you?”

Hurt me? Didn’t he already do that enough by making a stupid effort to avoid me? Leaving me confused for the whole night? I didn’t know how to respond to his words, his question, everything I thought of, came off as stand-offish and rude, so all I could do was shake my head bitterly. Obviously, it was fair enough, he could be scared of this, so was I, but by the way he had avoided me tonight, during one of the times I needed him the most, I knew it wasn’t a responsible way to act, it never was. He had hurt me, and gravely, making me rethink everything leading up to this moment. I painfully looked down to the fallen silver car keys, them resting silently on the white floor tiles. While I still tried to cascade my brain and mind for how I could respond to him, in the nicest way possible. Though, the only feeling I could succumb to and notice, was the suffocating feeling of anxiety, and giddiness.

“What if we aren’t meant to be with one another, y/n…?”

“How would you know we aren’t meant to be together, if we haven’t even dated before? There’s only one way to know for sure.”

I muttered out, pinching the bridge of my nose with my pointer and thumb. It didn’t shock me how tired and weak my voice sounded, as yelling and sobs ripped my throat raw, it was very expected. However, due to my attention being diverted on my sore and sickened throat, I didn’t notice Johnnie making his way over to me. I didn’t notice him, until he was standing right in front of me, hands balled at his sides, messy hair, and blue eyes wide with an unrecognizable expression. With a surge of confidence, his right hand softly rested on my shoulder, it wrapping around to the back of my neck and resting there. His fingers gently dug into my skin, strands of h/c hair wrapping around them subconsciously. My eyes instantly flashed up at his touch, anxiety rushing throughout my body. It was so obvious that he was nervous as well, with the sight of his hands shaking, and the adrenaline seemingly pumping through him.

That was when I realized that this was my moment, my moment to show his how much he meant to me. An action, that I would shamefully perform, one kiss. one kiss couldn’t ruin a friendship, right? If it did ruin this, then so be it, because if Johnnie and I were meant to happen, then we would. We would find a way back to one another. So, without a second thought, I took that chance, I took that moment. My hands instantly latched onto his thin tattooed neck, gently forcing his head down and giving him all my emotion through the touching of lips. I had never kissed someone like I did Johnnie that night, I had never kissed someone with so much passion, so much want. I didn’t take the time to hyper-fixate on his body language, barely noticing his shock. I just desperately tried focusing on the continuous buzzing that radiated in my head. What I did notice was how Johnnie reciprocated the kiss, his hand moving from the back of my neck to the side of my face, his fingers so soft. He held me so delicately, as if a porcelain doll, skin so fragile and brittle, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like an art piece, I felt like I was finally someone's muse.

“Woah.”

I didn’t quite know when the pair of us became a trio, or rather a group, though when the familiar and feminine voice of the Tara Tompson filtered into the enclosed area, I had never been so quick to push Johnnie away from myself. Regret settled in my veins, should I had let him go like that, so soon? I could have held him just a little longer, I swore I could, though I didn’t. Behind the short girl, barely shorter than myself, was the tall and stumbling figure of a clearly intoxicated, Jake Webber. His thick scent was laced with weed, cigarette stench, and hard alcohol, giving me the sense that he had only gotten worse due to Johnnie and I’s departure. Though his attention wasn’t focused on me, he was far more interested in Johnnie, with a big, wide, slurred smile, and a lot of emotion in his body language and features. While Tara’s dark gaze was placed on me, and my stiff and uncomfortable posture. Bewilderment. That’s the word I’d use to describe her face, her expression. Was my surge of commitment and bravery really so shocking? I guess I wasn’t exactly outgoing, but I wasn’t that introverted either, I was a loud person, I challenged those who did wrong, so why was this different too?

“See... d-dude! I told you to ju-... ugh- just kiss her!”

Tara hissed frustratedly at Jake’s hiccups, muttering something inaudible from my stance. Though I didn’t care for the words that spilled from her maw, I was to interested in what Jake had said just moments before. ‘I told you,’ So Johnnie had been thinking about this moment, thinking about kissing me before? The knowledge of this had my stomach and chest twisting and fluttering, an uncomfortable, yet giddy, feeling arising more and more within a few short moments. Tara then grumbled at Jake, a loud and aggravated groan leaving her throat when he didn’t seem to be cooperating. After a few sharp whispers, Tara simply apologized to Johnnie and I, and they hastily stumbled away from the two of us, likely to Jake’s room so he could sober up and sleep. The interaction left Johnnie and I standing there alone and slightly stunned, the awkward aroma filling the air. My eyes drifted away from the doorframe to look at Johnnie, but he had beaten me to gaining to others attention. His eyes were already placed on my own, breath heavy and eyes clouded with the little alcohol he had drunk prior. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I whispered an apology.

“’M sorry…”

“I didn’t like her.”

I nodded subconsciously and silently, Johnnie’s strained and quiet words giving me knowledge that he was aware of the other two in the home. Though I didn’t bother acknowledging them, I was far too focused on how horse and rough his voice was, and shamelessly it had complimented his messy and unkept appearance well, or well enough to make my knees weak. His messy dark hair, jarred out wildly, while skimpy blonde roots carefully crept up the strands, barely noticeable. His dark blue make up had been smeared across his face, etched around his bright blue eyes, making them more noticeable than ever. Dark Tattoos writhing their way around his neck, the large black spider mark settling on his throat as if it was a mark since his birth, built to be there. I was staring at him for too long, too quietly. Once I had taken the effort to draw my attention from Johnnie’s attractive personality and expression, I looked down to the cleansed tiled floor. Was that it? After this would we go to bed and forget everything? Did I even want that?

“I like you. Your humor, your appearance, your kindness. I like you… more than a friend.”

“Then quit treating me like I’m less of one.”

Every single word, every single syllable that seeped from his mouth, set off a tiny firework inside of me. Fireworks in my chest, my feelings were the embodiment of the fourth of July. I had never felt so seen as a person, so honored for how I felt, and looked, and only moments prior, I felt invisible to the world. I was so vulnerable, my feelings were overlooked, ignored, and now they were noticed and appreciated more than ever. Overwhelmed, that’s what I was during that moment. Overwhelmed with my own feelings, and Johnnie’s pure ones. How was I to react now? Did I go to bed, or make the effort to hug or kiss him? Before I could make the decision in what I was to do, Johnnie had started to shake his head. His eyes moved away from my own, to the items on the kitchen countertop, him deep in thought and consideration. He opened his jaw to speak again, hand gripping tightly on his skinny jeans as he spoke confidently.

“I’m sorry y/n/n.” I love you.

“I know. I love you too.”

And for the first time in my life, I hadn’t felt like the ‘fat girl’, I felt noticed for more then my humor and weight. Johnnie made me feel wanted and seen. Since that moment, I had taken everything seriously. I took my problems, my life, my achievements, seriously. They all suddenly had purpose to me. I had commitments now, a commitment to Johnnie, a commitment to a lifelong promise that I vowed to never break. Johnnie made promises of his own, promises to never ignore my struggles, to hold me when needed, and the promise that I would always be his. From now until death do us part; And I wouldn't have it any other way.

[ijustbewriting]

A man who yearns is a man who earns

Wolfstar X fem!reader

Summary - In which Remus and Sirius quietly ( not really) yearn for the reader

Warnings : none, (delusional Sirius), shy reader I guess

A//N My first Wolfstar fic !

Word count: 1.2k

“ I want her so bad” Sirius groans softly watching as you laugh along with Lily and Marlene. Remus who had been reading had promptly stopped as he had watched his boyfriend look at the girl who they had both been crushing on as of late. You were in the same year as them, a beautiful and smart Ravenclaw who just so happened to waltz in the boys life and change them forever.

“If you keep starting at her she’ll think you’re a creep” Remus tells his boyfriend

“She’ll think about me !” Sirius gasps, Remus shakes his head at his gasp

“ You really need to stop”

“Why won’t she look at us “ Whines Sirius sitting next down next to Remus who was quick to wrap his arm around his waist and pull him closer.

“Don’t know love” He plants a kiss on his neck making Sirius shiver.

“Do you think she even knows our names” The young Gryffindor pouts.

In all honesty Y/N did know Remus and Sirius, how could she not? The famous group, the marauders. Known for pulling pranks and bringing fun to Hogwarts, it was hard to miss such a group.

Remus and Sirius especially, god were they gorgeous. Remus with his beautiful brown eyes that seemed to be lit by the sun itself, his curly hair that was always curled to perfection, his old soul which was so kind and oh Merlin’s beard was he so smart. The few classes she had with him where she would hear him answer the professors question’s correctly and even sometimes add even more information made her Ravenclaw heart swoon.

Sirius Black, oh Sirius Black. He captivated everyone’s heart. His unique grey eyes and long hair, and that smile. That Sirius Black smile. Charming is what he is, suave with his words having anyone flustered and blushing when Sirius would flirt with them. Everyone wanted him or wanted to be him. But only Remus Lupin was lucky enough to have a slice of whatever Sirius was offering but god did he want top give a piece to you.

You the beautiful creature who captured their hearts when Lily walked into the common room that fateful day. You both were working on a project for Potions. Both of them were awestruck by you. Swearing they had never seen someone as beautiful as you. They knew then and there that they wanted you, the question was how?

It seemed like any time that they wanted to see you, you were scurrying away, off to the library, your dorm or somewhere else where they could not reach you.

One time when Sirius was walking with James after heading back from quidditch practice. Then a sudden figure zoomed right past them, it was you. Sirius blinked and he turned to look at you as you left, he wanted to say something but by gods were you quick. As you turned the corner and disappearing from his sight he promptly fell to his knees.

“Come back my love PLE-“

As you had turned the corner, you stopped swearing that you had heard something

“Must of been the wind” you muttered to yourself.

It was not in fact the wind but none other than Sirius Black dramatically on his knees clutching his chest, the other hand reaching out for you.

“Mate get up this is embarrassing” James muttered

Truth is- you’re painfully shy. Having a crush on Remus Lupin and Sirius Black the it couple right next to Lily and James was painful, for so many reasons. One being the most obvious, they’re both together and you were no home wrecker. Two you could not imagine even being friends with them. They were so different from you, in a good way.

While you were more quiet and reserved, staying in your dorm to read and study. You enjoyed your me time more than anything. Parties at Hogwarts were something you rarely attended, given the fact that you didn’t drink or dance. The few times you did go was because a friend’s or Lily had dragged you. You would see both boys at these parties and they were the life of the party there was no way they would look over at you and want you, at least that’s what you’ve told yourself thus far.

It was far from the truth. Remus and Sirius both yearned for you silently or at least remus did, Sirisu was alwasy loud about those he cared about.

But enough was enough, both of them decided that they were going to get your attention one way or another.

As you exited you class, you sighed as you slinged your bag on your shoulder, the bag was heavy a reminder of all the homework you had to do.

"Ok I finish reading chapters one through twenty and then I can start my essay and give my self enough time-" you muttered to yourself but promptly stopped as your eyes landed on two figures. Remus and Sirius. Quickly and without blinking you turned your heel and began to walk the other way.

"No wait- hold on love" you heard Sirius voice as he catched up to you, now this is the one time you cursed Sirius and Remus's great hieght becasue with a couple of strides they had already caught up to you.

"Dove please" Remus said almost pleadingly. The nickname made you stop walking. The boys both next to you.

"Merlin's beard, your worse than a snitch, I don't even think James would be able to catch you" Sirius huffed in light laughter, Remus smiled soflty.

"We've been looking for you " said Remus

"You have?" you responed in a quiet voice

"yes love, for what feels like an eternity-"

"two months" Remus corrected

"felt like forver to me" huffed Sirius his lips almost pouting

"what for?" you ask

"well we wanted to ask you something actually" Remus started

"We want you so bad" blurted Sirius, now that made you completely freeze up.

"Sirius we said we were going slow" hissed Remus, swatting his partner gently on the shoulder.

"I can't- this will not be a slow burn love, I will not allow it" He shakes his head before grabbing your hand.

"Love, please we've been going crazy without you, you drive us insane and we want you in all ways possible, please let us treat you right, we won't ever hurt you and your days will be filled with love and passion-"Sirius's love declaration was cut of by his boyfriend.

"Pads you're scaring her" He says as he had been wacthing your reaction and it was all wide eyed and he wore you had stopped breathing for a moment. Sirius quickly shut up, the quickest Remus had ever seen him. After a moment of silence you finally spoke.

"You want me- you both want me ?" you sputtered finally breathing again

"Most ardently" Remus answered. You look between both boys, whom you've had been crushing onf for so long, who you had never ever in your life believed that they would ever look at you in that way but here they were. Sirius basically on his knees begging you to talk and Remus with his beautiful eyes asking, no pleading for a positive response. You drew in a deep breathe before answering.

"I want you guys too" You confess

"Praise Merlin and David Bowie she said yes Remus!" exclaimed Sirius.

"Yes I heard her love thank you" chuckled Remus who was now looking you fondly. Sirius who was still holding your hand gave it a small squeeze.

"Did you hear how Remus pulled a Mr. Darcy on you "

[passionwillow]

Texts with your boyfriend Jack Abbot ♥️

[mi-olaaa]

Pretty girl.. (18+)

Fem!reader, softdom!ony, bf!ony, plussize!reader katoptronophilia, you alr know what it isss! Smut so no minors.. ofc. Enjoy!!

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

↳˗ˏˋ Aot m.list..ˊˎ˗ ☆

“Hey. Look at me mamas.” Ony murmurs into your ear, so sweetly. Too sweetly, especially for the way his dick is curving up into your gummy walls, but you listen, looking in the floor length mirror in front of you, watching how sinfully delicious he looks to you. “Onyy— fuck, i can’t” Your whines echo around the room, your head drooping slightly.

He grabs your face by your chin, gently peppering kisses, his grip on your hips tightening for a moment, as he pounds up into your dripping cunt. "Yes you can mama, this is your dick. Take it." You swear you were gonna die when he grinned so deviously at you in the mirror, the way he lowered those pretty eyes of his at you, the way his touch has you writhing under him.

You’ve been sitting on his lap in front of this damned mirror for almost an hour, looking at him bouncing you up and down by the hips, orgasm after orgasm, and he wants you to keep looking at him?

Ony's tip was reaching spots in you that you didn't even know existed, brushing up against your cervix, eliciting moans and pants from your mouth. He nips at your neck, hand leaving your chin, snaking around to your clit, rubbing circles around the puffy folds. "Baby, Ony— ouhhh please" You could feel his slender fingers on your clit, massaging the sensitive bundle.

"Please what? Use your voice pretty girl." He looks up at the mirror, watching his cock piston in and out of your pussy, and all you could do is drool. “Haah— stop teasing me please.” The moan that ripped out of your throat was pure bliss, and before you could even say it, you were squirting over his digits, some of your arousal even splattering on the bottom of the mirror in front of you two.

The clear, warm arousal of yours had him fucking into you like a madman. Ony’s grip on your hip tightened as you spasm slightly, his fingers dripping. While he had your attention on him in the mirror, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking the taste of you off of them. “Taste so fucking good mamas, need to eat you next time.” And again with that sexy gaze of his, looking directly at you this time as you nod lazily.

The way he was digging into you so deep had you damn-near screaming his name, pussy squeezing his length like a vice, milking him for all he’s got.

“Mhm mhm baby. Look at me, do what I told you, look at me.” He croons into your ear, the hand that’s not already holding you by your hips and slamming you down onto him, wraps around your torso, massaging your lovely breasts, as you come undone again.

Your moans come out wantonly, and you’re nothing but a drooling, sticky mess for him, it almost makes him wonder if it’s because you can everything in mirror? Doesn’t matter, with the way he’s filling you so good and fucking you so fast, you’re seeing stars and panting.

It’s interesting though, the way your face contorts in pleasure in the mirror to his ministrations, the way your thick thighs jiggle when you bounce on him, the tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as your back arches so sinfully, it’s too much.

And all it does is make Ony groan, and lean down to capture one of your tears on his tongue. “C’mon mama, just one more. You think you can do that f’me?” He speaks, trying so sweetly to coax another orgasm out of you.

It takes almost all the power you have to find an orgasm in you, but you don’t have to do much with how attentive he is to you and your needs. Massaging and toying with your nipples, whispering praise in your ears, pushing all your buttons, just to see his pretty girl cum again, and you do. You come absolutely undone on his dick, a pretty, creamy white ring of your arousal at the base of his cock, all the while, he slows his thrusts, having cum into you more times than you both could count.

By the time the both of you have came to your senses, he finally pulls out of your pretty, fat pussy. Watching as dribbles of cum spill out of you, kissing your neck once again. “See, I knew you had one more in you, good job mama.” He murmurs into your panting skin, side-eyeing you in the mirror, and how you tremble slightly, looking like a deer in headlights, massaging your sore thighs, admiring the fat of them.

Too tired to do anything but nod and stick a lazy thumb up, you slump on his chest, relishing in how warm he is. Ony doesn’t bother with clean up right now, he’ll do it sometime later, all he currently cares about is getting you into bed, especially with the way you just fell asleep on him. He picks you up from the small of your back and the back of your knees, bridal-style, before getting off the edge of the bed.

Flicking off the main lights in your shared bedroom, leaving the ambient lights on, he climbs into bed, setting you down and covering you up, holding you as you both wind down, petting your head softly, and smoking a blunt before going to bed.

That dick really fucked his pretty girl to sleep.

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: heyyyy 🤭 ion have nun to say for once.. so imma shut my fat ass up. 🙃 LOVE Y’ALL 🫶🏾

[wh0reforoldmen]

Dante Headcannons

AN- I love Dante, and this fixation on DMC better not go any time soon, as I have ideas.

TW: Sexual Assault

Dante always comes to your place, not his. He’s not embarrassed by the fact that he can’t keep the lights on, but he doesn't want you being a subject to the filth he does live in, and a target for demons, so it’s to keep you safe. However, what he is embarrassed about is his lack of ability to cook. He could try and cook pasta, and he’ll burn it to a crisp, so he’ll just watch you do it with a hint of calm in his eyes. It’s the closest thing he’ll get to a normal, domestic life. 

If you ask to come round to his home, he’ll say that things need redoing and it isn’t safe for you and he’s terrible with money and so he hasn’t got round to fixing things. However, he isn’t terrible with money at all, he’s quite good with it actually, but it all goes to rebuilding buildings and covering damages he and demons have caused. Sure, it means having no lights, heating, or plumbing working properly, but he’s willing to take that over people not having a roof over their heads. He gives to people who are less fortunate than him and he loves it, the way that they look at him with so much glee and how many times that they say thank you for his humility, it gives him pride. 

Touch is his love language, he isn’t one for saying the L word, if he could give you gifts, he would shower you with them. He will always try and touch you, if it's either by holding hands, having his hands on your thigh, his arm around your waist, he doesn't care, he just needs that touch for a number of reasons:

He is touch deprived. Dante didn’t know it until you hugged him for a long period of time and he just felt the need for that 24/7. The feeling of warmth that you give, the calming presence of you in his arms is so addicting to him. 

Boobs. He is a boobs man and so if he's a big spoon, expect his hands to come up your shirt and to your breast and give it a little squeeze before keeping it there. He will obviously ask for consent first, because he is a man of consent. He needs it.

Talking about cuddling, he is one warm man. Sure, a lot of men are warm, but Dante? Dante is a walking lava pit. It does wonders in the winter, where you’re shivering and he slides into bed and this massive heat pad is behind you, warming you up. It’s heavenly. Summer, not so much. You wake up drenched in sweat and overheating, and if you’ve felt the British heat, well, you may as well be cooking like a BBQ. It doesn't affect Dante, or so he thought. One time, you put your cold feet on his legs and he was caught off guard with how cold they were, but also with how nice it felt to feel cool for once. It was divine. Now you have a system of if your feet are freezing, you’ll simply place them on Dante and the small chuckle comes out of him is to die for. 

If he’s out on a mission, he will talk off anyones ears about you. Depending on how long you’re dating, he may just start calling you his wife. He reached that level of trust in you and love for you, girlfriend doesn't cut it, he needs you to be his wife. Fuck the legalities to it. If you call him, he will answer no matter what. If he’s in the middle of a fight with a few demons or even a high ranking demon, or even Vergil, he’ll just answer it and fight the demon at the same time. He never misses a call.

Dante is a goofy person, we all know this and everyone has written to it to some extent, however, I rarely see people touch on his vulnerable moments because he does have his moments of vulnerability, however it depends if you’re close to him to express what he’s feeling. If you’re someone like a partner however, it depends how long you have dated and how long you have known him. If you're dating, it will take him months and months to open up to you about his past, not just about his mother and who he is, but his trauma with sex and how he was repeatedly assaulted when he was younger. It takes a lot out of him to talk about it, especially because he’s not told anyone about it, but because you’re his partner, you deserve to know as it will affect aspects of your relationship, like sex. He’s not one of those people who jokes about his trauma, he jokes about everything else but that, it opened old wounds that he doesn't want opening. (It also sucks that not a lot of people know about this. It’s in the novels)

Music is a lot for Dante. He loves it, and so if he finds a song, album or a singer/band, he’ll show you it with a wide smile and look at you to see each and every reaction you have to it. When you’re cooking, he’ll have songs playing in the background, if you’re sleeping, some sort of music is playing, and if you can’t sleep with background music, he has headphones.

[holylulusworld]

The Captain and his bombshell (1)

Summary: Golden Boy in the streets – the devil in the sheets.

Pairing: Steve Rogers (Post Endgame) x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: angst, fat shaming, bullying, cocky reader, self-confident reader, reader has powers, implied kinky/rough Steve

A/N: A drabble collection of cocky reader & kinky Steve.

The Captain and his bombshell masterlist

A thick skin. That’s your superpower.

That’s your way to ricochet bitchy comments and nasty looks.

You’re a master at ignoring the kind of people wanting to make themselves feel better by treating others like trash.

Not only that. It gave you the power to be a cocky bitch.

Just like now. Some of the women at a bar believe that only because one of them fucked Steve Rogers, one of your team members some weeks ago, they can get bitchy.

“She was staring at him when he walked around shirtless,” the woman spats, looking in your direction. “As if Captain America would ever be interested in that hippo. I don’t even know why she’s one of the Avengers. What’s her superpower? Being fat.”

She’s not wrong, though. After Steve was done with his disappointing encounter with her, he was walking into the kitchen in only his boxer briefs.

You were about to feed the stray Bucky brought home some weeks back when Steve caught your attention.

Your eyes roamed his body, and you decided to save the memory for lonely nights.

Steve never tried to make a move on you. He’s usually shy around you. Maybe the woman is right. Steve would never try to put his hands on you. You’re just not his type.

“It was a case of second-hand embarrassment,” she continues. “I was looking for Stevie and saw her stare at him as if he’s the next cake she wants to wolf down.”

You have heard enough. Usually, your skin is thick enough to ignore nasty comments or stupid babbling coming from women like her. Tonight is different. You’re in the mood to be a bitch.

Slowly stalking toward their table, your head held high and a dark smirk on your crimson lips, you prepare yourself to wipe that grin off her face.

“Well, sweetie,” you coo, and put on your best fake smile, “at least I wouldn’t whine and cry the whole time he’s fucking me because I can’t take it. You see,” you slap your butt with your right hand. “This booty is made for rough treatment.”

“I—what?” She stammers, eyes wide, and her cheeks are on fire. “What are you talking about?”

The other women stare at her, mouth agape. They wait for her reply, but it never comes. Typically. They can only throw punches, but not take a single blow.

“I don’t need super-hearing to know that you didn’t enjoy yourself. I know, I know.” You laugh in her face. “Everyone believes Stevie is all sweet and cuddly. But a super-soldier needs to release some steam sometimes. He likes it rough, just like me. You shouldn't play with fire if you can’t take the heat.”

You turn on your heels and walk off, smiling to yourself as you can hear the women soothe their friend.

Steve is following you around town. After you knocked the woman he slept with some weeks ago down a peg or two, he couldn’t think straight.

You heard him have sex with that squeaky mouse and wished it was you. Why, he has no clue. All the time he knew you, Steve believed you, the bombshell straight out of his wet dreams, could never be into him.

Now he’s confused and horny—unsure about his next step.

Steve only knows one thing. He cannot stay away from you for much longer…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[d-emeter]

Breakfast, lunch and dinner (or: cod characters and how they eat you out) — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

Note: take this as my formal apology for being inactive for so long :') exam week had me hanging on by a thread and i'm also suddenly moving so. yay. expect some more action after like... this week i hope

John Price

Listen. Getting eaten out by Captain Price is not, in any way, meant for your pleasure. No, this is him disciplining you. It hardly even matters what for. Maybe you have been teasing him, sliding your hand up his thigh under the table, rubbing your ass against him while passing by him. Maybe you've been a brat all day, complaining and huffing and puffing about everything, barely listening to any of John's requests and/or demands. Either way, sit on his desk and spread your fucking legs, doll. He'll be edging you for what feels like hours, tongue moving so torturously slow that all coherent thought has seeped from your brain aside from how badly you want to cum. Too bad, bad girls don't deserve to finish this easily.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

With Simon, it's always a surprise what position you'll end up in. The only certainty you have is that it's definitely not what you'd expect, and sometimes you wish that for once he'd just lay you down and get busy. But alas, he'll have you kneeling with your face in the pillows, or bent over the back of the couch. Maybe he'll have you hanging off the edge of the bed so all the blood flows to your already overheating brain. You're clinging onto whatever you can get a hold on, mostly in pleasure, and sometimes in fear of falling when he has you up on his shoulders and leaned against the wall. Well, he doesn't exactly hear your complaining over your moans and whimpers, he argues, and he wouldn't dream of dropping you.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

As with Price, this has little to do with your pleasure: it's all for his own benefit. Please, lass, he loves your cunt, and she loves him, doesn't she? Come on, let him have a taste. He could give two shits about where you are or how convenient it is— if he wants to lick your pussy, he's going to. He's down on his knees while you're desperately clinging onto the kitchen counter, or the shower wall, or the shelves of your pantry. Hell, you'd have to hope and pray a sales associate won't come by your changing room in fear of them hearing all of his moans. Oh, and you quickly find out you cannot wear a skirt around him, because it won't come down from your hips if he has any say in it.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

He's devastatingly methodical. He knows your body better than you do at this point, and he's not afraid to use this to his advantage. He can work you just right, but the worst part is that he will refuse to. Unless you kindly ask him for it, that is. Tsk, pretty girl, use your words. Let him know where you need him, what you need him to do. He's hovering close enough that you can feel his breath on your neglected clit, your cunt clenching around nothing in desperate search for friction of any kind, but he won't do anything until you tell him in excruciating detail what you want. And be aware, any time you stop talking, he's pulling away in a second.

König

Oh, König... Sweet, wet-rag-of-a-man loser that he is, will completely lose his mind any time you allow him near your pussy. He can practically feel his brain melting while he's drowning himself in your slick, and he looks like it too. His eyes have rolled back, face flushed and his eyebrows scrunched in pure, unadulterated pleasure. His body has turned to complete mush, his cock leaking against the sheets and hands clawing onto any part of your body he can reach (which, with his arms, is basically everywhere). Unintelligible mumbles made into your cunt, teetering the edge between praise and begging. He is a little inexperienced, Schatz, so you'll have to show him how you like it. Shove his face between your folds and ride his nose, and you'll have him moaning like a bitch in heat. When he finally comes back up for air you can tell you're not the only one that reached heaven just now.

Philip Graves

I'm going to speak my truth here, he does not strike me as the kind of man to give you oral all that much. I am SORRY, but it's true. He usually prefers to get you nice and ready for him with his fingers, or by having you ride his thigh, or simply from the absolute filth he spews into your ear while dry-humping. However, on the odd occasion that Phil does get down and dirty, he aims to make it special. It's strangely sentimental, actually. It'd be outside on a picnic blanket after his homecoming, or in your shared bed after your anniversary dinner. Anything that reminds him how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him, and he's going to show you with his tongue. There's reverence in every suck, praise in every lick and prayer in every word he murmers into your core. You're his goddess and he's just here to worship you, baby.

Alejandro Vargas

For Ale, it'd be a form of gratuity much in the same way it is for Graves, though the difference is that he'll use that as an excuse even for the most menial things. His belly nice and full after your homecooked dinner, grin on his face and asking when his dessert is being served. You've been so good to him, amor, welcoming him home with a smile and a kiss and a plate waiting for him, now let him thank you properly. You fixed the button on his shirt that had fallen off? Well, put it on and lay yourself down, time to lap at your cunt in thanks. It's gotten to a point where you're convinced he just decided his goal in life is to pull as many orgasms from you as possible. Not that you're complaining, of course.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parras

Eating you out is, in many ways, a means to an end for Rudy. He wants to make sure you're properly prepped and ready to take his cock, so it's almost instinctual for him to bury his face between your soft thighs for a while before inching himself into you. It's part of the routine, the way he thought sex was supposed to go. It's not until you explain to him that it can actually be the main event, and that you'd thoroughly enjoy it if he maybe put in a little more effort, that it dawns on him just how much he can actually do down there and how much time he's wasted not doing it. Now, tesoro, you may have shot yourself in the foot with that one, because he now can keep you pinned down for hours, just suckling away at your clit and fucking you on his tongue, dumb grin on his face after your fifth orgasm renders you basically comatose.

Valeria Garza

The only way Valeria will actually relax for once is with your pussy in her face. Seriously, you've tried everything else: lavender baths, deep tissue massages, even trying to get her to meditate. But no, the only time you actually see her shoulders lose all their tension is when she's between your folds. She's had such a long day, vida, come sit on her face. She's not even groping you the way she usually does during sex, hands instead playing idly with the fat of your thighs and ass while all her worries melt away. There are no thoughts running through her mind aside from how good you taste, how pretty you sound and how nice you feel under her hands.

[letsyapthenightaway]

could we please have all the guys reaction to the - "Somebody point me to the best ass eater" trend please lovely? x

This is going to be weak because I think most of them wouldn't participate but let me imagine.

Luke Hughes- if you are holding the phone he's shaking his head with a smile and pushing it out of his face. If you are doing the little dance that goes with the trend he'd react the same way but walk away.

Jack Hughes- ... he's iffy for me. I think it would be depending on his mood. He'd either go "No" and shut it down real quick or he's going all in. I mean all in! Laughing while doing the head shake thing and tongue out.

Quinn Hughes- I can't picture Quinn anywhere near this trend. I have a feeling he ran away before you could get to him.

Matt Rempe- I think he'd laugh, do the trend for like 3 seconds, get embarrassed and pull away instantly regretting it. I can picture him laughing with a slight blush and doing that little thing he does when he's nervous. Like running his hand through his hair and hand on his hip.

Connor Bedard- He's standing there with the most awkward smile but when he hears the lyrics he's going "What?" With wide eyes and an awkward laugh.

[fungateshortcakes]

Come as you are

Pairing: oldman!Logan x chubbyfem!Reader

Summary: You have developed a crush on the man that has offered you safety and friendship all these months ago. But how could he ever love someone like you?

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, slight angst, fluff, age gap, body image issues, insecurities, self loathing, happy ending, very self indulging

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

The air in the smelting plant was heavy with the silence that stretched throughout. The only sound came from the slow crackle of the fire, its light casting soft, flickering shadows onto the walls. You sat at the edge of the old, worn down couch, picking at a loose thread on your sweater, trying to focus on anything but the man across the room.

Logan was drinking his fifth coffee of the night while reading through some newspapers, his movements methodical while he turned a page, his soft groan cutting through the silence as his reading glasses slipped lower on his nose. You’d always found him fascinating to watch—so gentle with the things he handled, except for when he handled himself. The way his brows knitted together as he read, deepening the shadow of a wrinkle between them. There were so many mundane things he did that drew you to him.

It was part of why you had fallen for him in the first place.

But you would never tell him that.

You sighed quietly, your fingers curling into your lap. Logan had been your friend for a few months now, ever since he helped you out of a scrape you didn’t want to think too much about. He had offered you safety, companionship, and a kind of loyalty you’d never known from anyone else. And you?

You had given him nothing.

Sure, you helped around the home, if you could call it that, cooked dinner for him and Charles, patched his clothes when they tore, patched him when he got into another fight at his job—but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t enough. That you weren’t enough. Never enough.

It wasn’t just the way your body didn’t fit society’s definition of “perfect" and that your clothes could only hide so much. You had made your peace with being chubby long ago. Or at least, you thought you had. But sitting here, watching a man like Logan chiseled, hardened, and impossibly strong, you couldn’t help but feel painfully out of place.

And then there was the age gap.

You were in your early twenties. He was... what? Pushing 200? Sure, he didn’t look it. His is healing factor had frozen him in what seemed to be his late 50s, but the years between you loomed like a canyon you would never be able to cross.

Why would someone like him ever look at someone like you?

“Somethin’ on your mind?” his voice startled you, rough and low, breaking through the haze of your never ending, self deprecating thoughts. You looked up to find him watching you, his glasses sitting on the table, his dark eyes sharp and focused just on you. “No,” you said, too quickly for his liking, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”

His brow furrowed deeply, a look you had come to know too well on him “Ya don’t look fine.” He states matter of factly. You tried to laugh it off, but it came out forced. “I’m just tired.” Logan didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit,” he said bluntly, leaning forward in his chair. “You’ve been quiet all day. You're never quiet. What’s goin’ on?” Yeah, you never shut up. You were quite the chatterbox around him because you felt so at ease, as if you wouldn’t be judged. Now you thought maybe that was something that annoyed him about you. The constant talking and noise because of you, not a silent moment because you were never able to read the room and shut up. You frowned, turning away from him. “Nothing,” you insisted, standing up abruptly. “I’m going to bed.”

You didn’t make it two steps before he shot up from his seat, striding over to you and catching your wrist in his large, rugged hand. He didn’t grip hard, Logan never touched you with anything but the gentlest care, but it stopped you in your tracks with a gasp.

“Talk to me,” he urged, his tone softer now. You hesitated, your chest tight with the weight of all the things you had been holding back for so long “Logan, just... drop it, okay?” you pleaded, trying to get your hand out of his grasp. “No.” he stood, his hand still around your wrist, his eyes searching yours. “You don’t get to shut me out like that.”

Your resolve started to crack, but you weren't about to let him win, so you forcefully ripped your arm awas from his grip “Why do you even care?” you sputtered out, your voice starting to feel raw. His brow furrowed even more, his chest heaving with your rejection “What kind of question is that?”

“Because you shouldn’t!” you snapped, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m nothing to you, Logan. Just some stupid kid who’s too young, too... too fat—” you weren't able to finish your sentence as Logans hands shot up to hold you by your shoulders, not letting you go “Don’t.” His voice was sharp, cutting through your words like a blade. You froze, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. You swallowed thickly, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he rasped lowly, his tone softening again but no less firm. You bit your lip harshly, a distressed sound ripping from your throat “Why not?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “It’s the truth.”

Logan stepped closer, his rough hands gentle on your body, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering. “You really think that?”

You nodded, shrugging his hands off you despite needing the warmth, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, look at you, Logan. You’re... you’re everything. And I’m just... me.” you sniffled, avoiding his eyes. He exhaled heavily, his hand coming up to rake through his grey hair. “You think I care about any of that? About numbers or size or—”

“Yes!” you cut him off, your voice trembling. “Because you could have anyone, Logan. Someone more mature. Someone prettier, someone better!.” you nearly yelled, but undeniably got chocked up on your tears. He stared at you for a long moment, his jaw tight, his hands clenching at his sides. Then, without a word, he closed the space between you, making you press yourself against the wall.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but steady, his tired eyes piercing “You think I care about how old you are? About how much curves you've got? Hell, sugar, you’re the only good thing I have left in my life, and you’re standing here actin’ like you’re not enough?”

You blinked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan—” you started breathlessly, but he lifted a warning finger at you. “No,” he said, cutting you off. “You don’t get to tell me what I want. And what I want is you. All of you. Just as you are.” Tears spilled over your round cheeks before you could stop them, and Logan’s hands came up to cup your face, his thumbs firmly brushing them away.

His hands held your face as if it was a precious artifact made out of porcelain, one that would shatter if handled too carelessly “I know I’m not good at this,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “Hell, I’ve screwed up more times than I can count. But I know what I feel. And I feel it for you.”

Your breath hitched and he tilted your chin up ever so gently to meet his eyes, his gaze locked on yours. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he said quietly. “Tell me you don’t feel the same.”

You couldn’t.

Instead, you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his broad chest as the dam finally broke. Logan held you tight, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other wrapped firmly around your plush waist. He was so warm and he smelled so good. Like home. This was home. “You’re it for me, sugar” he whispered into your hair, his salt and pepper beard scratching your temple “Don’t ever doubt that.”

When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, and for the first time in what felt like forever you let yourself believe it. “You mean it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, rare smile. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.” you didn’t respond, not with words. Instead, you leaned in slowly, giving Logan every chance to pull away, though you knew he wouldn’t. Not after that. He met you halfway, your lips brushing softly at first, tentative and sweet.

The kiss deepened, a tender exploration that spoke of all the moments you hadn’t been brave enough to share until now. Logan hadn't thought he would ever feel like his younger self again, kissing a pretty lady while his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. His broad hands smoothed over the soft curves that were your hips, trying to map your body like he had wanted for so long.

When you finally seperated, just a breath apart, you were suddenly lifted up into the air. You shrieked, clinging to Logan while he held you up by your thick thighs effortlessly. He smirked smuggly at you, a rare sight, and you pouted. "Just because I am dying doesn't mean I can't handle a girl like you, sugar" he drawled and carried you back over to the couch. He let himself fall onto the worn down cushions with you on top of him, your weight comforting on him. You were no light feather and he appreciated that. He could actually feel you on top of him, actually had something to grab you by.

Upon his mention that he was actively dying because of the adamantium lacing his bones, a heavy feeling settled in your stomach and your smile dropped. He noticed and gave your cheek a kiss "Hey. Don't worry. I'll be here for as long as you'll have me" and when he leaned down to kiss you again, it was slow and steady and full of promises you knew he’d never break.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

I really hope you liked this short fic and maybe can relate to it as well!

Characters like Logan are always paired with the skinny, dolled up, feminine, conventionally attractive woman and that kind of makes me feel like (if someone like Logan existed) i wouldn’t have a chance because i am fat. I already think that, but still!

We need more representation because we are people like everyone else and deserve to live in peace just like everyone else.

I know it's hard to believe- but you are beautiful and worthy, no matter your size. I still have to believe that myself, but I will get there someday🎀

[eddiexmunsonlover]

Heat Wave ~ E.M.

Neighbor!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: A heat wave coursing through Hawkins sends Eddie seeking out any form of relief. Even the cheap, little inflatable pool in your backyard will do, but he'll have to do something for you first. WC: 2.7k Warnings: MDNI 18+ SMUT. Unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), singular use of the phrase 'good boy', no use of Y/N, outdoor semi-public sex. Inspired from laying in the pool during the heat wave that just hit my area, wanted to get this out before summer's over!

Follow my new blog for future fics @cherryxhaze

In the dead of summer in Hawkins, Indiana, it’s another day in a seemingly endless heatwave cooking the midwest. In the Forest Hills Trailer Park, poor insulation does little to help keep the heat out of the metal sided homes, few in the neighborhood able to afford A/C costs, window units struggling to combat the high temperatures. Rather than sweltering in his room, Eddie finds relief walking under the trees in the park, leaves providing shade from the relentless sun.

He’s beginning to think it’s the only relief he’ll get from the rising temperatures this summer. Until he approaches a trailer, glimpsing through the passing trees into the backyard, yellow plastic catches his eye… and crystal clear water.

A pool. 

A cheap, inflatable one only a couple feet wide, but a pool nonetheless. Filled with cool water. He can practically feel it engulfing his warm, sweaty body. 

Next to it on a plastic lounge chair lays you, basking in the sun. Back home from college, he assumes.

“Well, well, well. Back to visit us peasants?” his voice booms, startling you out of your trance. He leans against your trailer, arms crossed with a grin plastered on his face.

“Jesus Christ, Munson. Can you be any less subtle?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you rather I have knocked?”

You roll your eyes, readjusting in the chair as you eye the metalhead.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, you know. Just perusing the neighborhood, decided to stop by and say hi to an old friend.” He meanders closer to your position, hiding an ulterior motive clear as day. An arched brow peeks over your sunglasses.

“Uh huh… friend…sure”

“Hey, you never spewed insults at me in the halls at school, I consider that a friend!”

You scoff out an amused chuckle as he throws a cheeky grin your way.

“Okay, sure. So, friend, what exactly is it that you wanted?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice you’re keeping this sweet slice of heaven back here, all to yourself.”

“Yeah, I bought it all by myself.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Hmm. I guess maybe I just thought, being the generous person you are, you’d be willing to share with a friend. I mean, considering the conditions.” He gestures around him with open arms, putting on all the charm he can muster in those dimples.

Despite his stance on the existence of your friendship, you’d never been more than neighbors and classmates. Your circles at Hawkins High never ran or meshed together, your friends falling into the norm of calling him a ‘freak’. A nickname, insult rather, that you never partook in berating him with. An insult that remained when he failed his senior year, meant to graduate with your class. You’ve heard from friends in passing that he failed this year too. You never thought less of him for it though, unlike everyone else in town.

To be honest, you’ve always had a liking for him despite your minimal interactions. Eyes lingering over him when you’d see him in class or the halls, fighting a smirk from his theatrics at lunch. You’d become an outcast like him if your friends knew, but you’d been hiding a crush on Eddie Munson for years. As you look over him now, it becomes strikingly clear that your crush hasn’t faded in the year away at college.

“You think flattery will work on me, hmm?” you remark with a grin.

“Well I only speak the truth, cross my heart.” His actions follow his words, hand over heart.

“Hmm” Your propped up leg fidgets side to side as you consider him.

“Okay, I’ll let you take a dip. But only if there’s something in it for me.” You decide with a confident smile, reveling in the way it catches him off guard before his theatrics kick back in.

“Why, of course. It’s only fair. What would you have me do?”

You keep him a little on edge, taking your time in deciding as you look amongst the yard until a perfect idea pops into your mind at the bottle next to you.

“Well, it is time for me to reapply. Mind giving me a hand?” You throw your own charm his way, a bottle of sunscreen extended out to him.

He only falters for a split second before nodding like a bobble head.

“Uh y-yeah, sure. Of course.” He answers almost too eagerly. “Skin care is important.” 

He worries the forced chuckle gives him away.

When you turn to lay on your stomach, he’s grateful you can’t see the way his entire expression fumbles.

To be fair, he’s always had the hots for you. Given your differing social groupings, he never thought he’d stand a chance. Now, he wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him with your demand. Eying the way your bottoms have bunched up between your cheeks, full figure on display for him, barely covered by the cloth.

A deep sigh rises from your chest at the sensation of his calloused hands spreading the cool lotion along your warm skin. Working from your shoulders and down your arms, you feel the anticipation rising as his hands move down your back. 

Lower and lower until.. his hands meet your calves. His tongue peeks from between his lips, watching as his hands move higher, from your calves to your thighs. An irresistible tug pulling his eyes and hands to move to your ass. 

“Do you uh- want me to..?” he questions, eyeing your cheeks only half covered by your bottoms.

“If you wouldn’t mind… not trying to deal with sunburn on my ass.” You answer sweetly, ending with a lighthearted laugh.

The sensation shoots right between your legs, only inches away from where his calloused fingers knead the plush flesh of your ass. You have to bite your lip to muffle the moan threatening to rise up your throat.

Eddie almost swears he feels the slightest push of your ass against his hands. He’s mesmerized by it, unable to stop himself from visualizing what’s underneath the slither of cloth. He never thought he’d ever be this close to you, let alone touching you like this. He wants to lose himself in it, in you but stops himself before his lingering touch becomes suspicious.

“A-alright, you’re all good.”

You flip over onto your back with a smile.

“Thanks, Eddie. You wouldn’t mind doing this side too, right?”

His eyebrows shoot up with a bob of his adam’s apple, gulping at the proposition before forcing a chuckle.

“Just trying to get a free massage out of me, aren’t ya?”

“Well you know, college is very stressful and I did say you’d have to make it worth my while”

He licks his lips before sinking his teeth into them, looking down at the sunscreen in his hands.

“Yeah, alright” he agrees with a smirk.

His movements mimic his work on your backside. Shoulders, down your arms, slowing as they glide across your chest, forcing himself not to linger before moving down to your stomach. Working up your calves, to your thighs. Admiring the way his fingers dig into the doughy flesh, your covered pussy right in his face.

You’re enjoying yourself far too much, watching how flustered you’re making him through the shade of your sunglasses. As his fingers glide up your legs, you spread them open ever so slowly. Biting your lip as his hands caress up to the inside of your thighs, eyeing the growing bulge in his shorts.

“Eddie…”

Wide eyes shoot up from your core to meet your eyes, now uncovered with your sunglasses moved atop your hair.

“Do you want a taste?”

He watches as your hand slides down your stomach, inching toward your pussy before they flash back up to meet yours.

“It’s a question, not an order.” You giggle at his silence, giving him an out.

“You’re serious?” He asks in disbelief, mouth agape. 

You nod softly, biting your bottom lip as your fingers ghost over your clit.

“Wanted you for a long time” You mutter, breathing becoming heavier at the prospect of finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.

“Shit…” His gaze falls back down to where your hand is, rubbing your pussy through your bathing suit. “You don’t have to ask me twice, sweetheart.”

His hand replaces yours, gently sliding your bottoms to the side and groaning at the sight of your pussy. You gasp softly as his tongue dives between your folds, licking a long stripe from your already wet hole and up to your clit. Hands sliding up your body, pulling both sides of your top to the side to free your breasts. Rough hands engulfing them, massaging them between his fingers as he shoves his face in your pussy like a starving man. Tongue exploring every crevice, lapping up your juices as his nose nudges against your clit.

“Oh fuck” You moan, head falling back as your fingers tug at his curls.

His fingers pinch and roll your nipple between them as his tongue circles your clit, bringing his other hand down to tease your entrance with his fingers. Slowly sliding two ringed digits in, tongue flicking against your clit before sucking it into his mouth, your eyes rolling back at the overwhelming pleasure, moans freely falling from your lips. 

You force your eyes open to watch. The sight of Eddie Munson between your legs, mouth worshiping your pussy, tongue working you in a way no guy ever has before, it’s sending you closer to the edge faster than you ever have before. 

You bite your lip at the sight, fingers running through his hair. The metal of his rings digging into the flesh of your ass with each thrust of his fingers into you.

“Mmm, good boy.”

A deep, rumbling moan rises from his chest, sending vibrations through your clit sucked between his lips as the pads of his finger rub against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Eddie. You’re gonna make me cum!”

Your admission only eggs him on more, sucking onto your clit harder, fingers moving faster in and out of your soaking walls that clench around them. His eyes flutter open to meet yours and that’s all it takes, every muscle in your body tightening, thighs trembling around his head as you grip it. 

Coming down from your orgasm, he replaces his soaked fingers with his tongue. Licking up every bit of your juice he can.

“Taste s’good, baby” he mumbles, face still buried in your pussy.

You whine at the praise and sensation, grabbing onto his hand and bringing his fingers to your mouth, sucking your cum off them. He pulls his attention back to you with a guttural moan, the action making his cock throb even harder in his shorts. Your other hand reaches out to rub him through the fabric, never breaking eye contact.

“Need to feel you inside me” you beg, rubbing the pads of his fingers along your bottom lip.

“Christ…”

His other hand eagerly reaches for the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down under his balls, throbbing cock springing free. Yanking his shirt off to relieve him from the heat of the sun and your sweating bodies.

He lines his cock up with your entrance, slowly sliding himself into your warm, wet walls until he’s fully sheathed inside you with a moan. His mouth latches onto one of your breasts, sucking and nibbling your nipple as he begins slowly thrusting into you.

“Fuck, yes!” you gasp out in pleasure, one hand in his hair as the other grips onto the lounge chair beneath you.

His mouth moves from your breast to your mouth in a hot, wet kiss as he shoves his cock as deep as he can inside you.

“Feel so good. Always wanted to fuck you, sweetheart. Feel this tight pussy wrapped around me.” he mutters against your lips. Sweat makes his bangs stick to his forehead, lips moving to latch onto your neck.

More moans escape your lips from the power his words, mouth, cock, the power he has over you, giving you more pleasure than you’ve ever felt by any other guy in Hawkins or college.

One of his arms hooks under your knee, giving him deeper access as his hips collide with yours, your hands attempting to grip onto his sweaty back. The sensation, his cock stretching you out with every thrust is overwhelming, consuming every bit of your attention, the fact of being in your backyard long forgotten.

“Eddie!” 

Your whines of pleasure are met with a stifled chuckle.

“Better quiet down, sweetheart. Don’t want the whole neighborhood to hear you, do you?” his husky voice and breath fan over your ear, sending chills down your spine amid the relentless heat surrounding you. 

His reminder, the reality that anyone passing along the same path he did, looking through just the right break in the trees at just the right time, would see Eddie “the freak” Munson balls deep in your pussy on the lounge chair in your backyard.

It only turns you on more, making your walls clench around him, delighting in the broken moans it pulls from him against your ear before he chuckles again.

“Mmm you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Dirty girl”

His thrusts pick up in pace, your sweat aiding to the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours.

“You were so cocky earlier, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teases, out of breath. Sporting a smirk as his face moves into your vision, hovering above you.

You groan in a mix of pleasure and annoyance.

“Just- oh…shut up and fuck me”

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he moves your legs to rest on his shoulders, allowing his cock to go even deeper inside you. His hands keep a harsh grip on your hips as he plows into you mercilessly. The new position and rough thrusts making the wet, slapping sounds of his skin on yours, his balls slapping your ass grow even louder along with your moans.

“Oh god oh god, yes!” your desperate whimpers fumble from your lips, a white knuckle grip on the plastic holding your bodies up. You’re sure it’ll buckle beneath you at any moment from the power of his thrusts.

“Mmm. What if your mother came home right now, fuck, to find her precious daughter getting fucked by the town freak, huh?” 

Even in his pleasure, the smug teasing still breaks through. Taking even more pleasure in watching you unravel beneath him, because of him, a girl once thought to be completely unattainable, now cockdrunk for him.

“Mmm don’t care, feel too fucking good” you answer breathlessly, feeling yourself quickly barreling toward your climax again.

He can’t decide where to look, watching your face twist in pleasure or watch his cock disappear in and out between your pussy lips. Despite his teasing, he can feel he doesn’t have much longer, and if the way your walls are pulsing around his cock is any sign, he knows you don’t either.

“Gonna cum again for me, baby? Give it to me, wanna feel you soak my cock, pretty girl”

He keeps up his relentless pace as much as he can and you feel like his cock is about to split you in two, making your toes curl in their position next to his head. You can’t stop it even if you tried, waves of pleasure crashing through your whole body as you meet your end.

“Fuck, Eddie!” you squeal in overwhelming pleasure, hands moving to grip onto his arms. Your head thrown back, mouth falling open, back arching off the chair as everything in you clenches.

The tight grip you have on his cock and the scream of his name as you cum is all it takes to drive him into his own climax, removing his cock from the warm confines of your pussy to cum all over your bare stomach with a deep moan of your name.

Your grips loosen, his head falling to rest on your chest as your legs fall to his sides. Heavy breaths and chests heaving as you recoup from your highs.

“Shit. If this is what I have to do to use your pool… I’ll be here all summer.”

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 1

I’ve seen everyone doing these drabbles/aus and I wanted to join! 🤠

content warning: It gets suggestive towards the end so MINORS BEWARE.

word count: 719 (kind of proofread, I got excited)

Daydreaming about GymRat!Miguel x PlusSize!Reader / Chubby!Reader and the dynamic of big tall bf x shorter chubby gf 🚻

Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who started off as an awkward, lanky, nerdy teen using the gym to blow off steam. His mom felt that he wasn’t a great influence to his brother, his father wasn’t his real father, and his step-brother was an asshole.

GymRat!Miguel who’s nearly triple his weight by the time he starts college, body full of muscle. His mom has calmed down despite him previously eating her out of a house and a home. His biological dad agreed to help with any leftover college expenses and his step-dad helps him move on campus. He’s tearful when he hugs Gabriel goodbye, promising to call and play their weekly games.

GymRat!Miguel who stays loyal to his nerdy roots and aims for a Science degree with a minor in Robotics for fun. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his classes, body taking up the ends of lab tables. Even though he prefers to sit in the front of classes, he opts to sit in the back so that everyone can see. He’s constantly using office hours and lingering after class so that he can make sure that his notes are correct.

GymRat!Miguel who first meets you in one of his bio labs and is immediately enamored by you. Your clothes hug your curves, you smell sweet, and something on you always matches. Your shoes and your backpack, your skirt and your jacket, your accessories and your nails.

GymRat!Miguel who ends up being in your group for a project and watches in awe as you take the lead, helping everyone decide which parts to complete. You go out of your way to make the powerpoint colorful and creative. You’re ecstatic when he turns in his parts extra early as everyone else has gone a-wall.

GymRat!Miguel who calms you down when the deadline is near and the rest of the group still hasn’t done their part. You two meet late in the library to finish everything. He thinks you’re adorable despite how stressed and tired you are. He makes the last minute decision to delete the other two group member’s names off of the title slide, taking the initiative to email the teacher before hand.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the lab building on presentation day 50 minutes early and sees you being cornered by the other group members eyes full of confusion. He quickly walks over asking if there was a problem. Seeing him looming over them, the two decide give up, and scramble together a last minute presentation.

GymRat!Miguel who explains everything, telling you not to worry about the others and just focus on you all’s presentation. You two have great presentation, chemistry blooming as you bounce off each other. You both get an easy A and you hug Miguel out of an excitement before the next lab starts.

GymRat!Miguel who imprints the feeling of your body against his in his memory. Your smell, how soft you were, how small you felt in his arms, how tight you squeezed him.

GymRat!Miguel whose dreams of you have him tossing and turning in his twin sized bed that was far too little for him. He scares his poor roommate to death when his body hits the floor with a big boom. The dream of you under him shattering as he collides with the ground. He groans and apologizes to his roommate, pain in his side and his groin.

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower, too aroused to go back to sleep. He bites his fist trying to quiet his moans, not wanting to wake his roommate for a second time. He replays images of you in his mind, pulling at his length until he shutters against the tile walls.

GymRat!Miguel whose heart drops when he checks his phone after his shower. You followed him on Instagram three hours ago. He checks your page and sees that you're private, but your profile picture is a lot. It's an angle from above you, your cleavage on display.

GymRat!Miguel who stands in the bathroom ogling at the photo like an idiot. He clicks the follow back button, watching as it shifts to pending, and stares down at his body again. He sighs and turns the shower back on, banking on his roommate sleeping through everything once again.

You had no idea the effect you had on him.

dividers by @y-onb 🩵

Leave a like and a comment! Let me know how you feel 😶‍🌫️

[honeydippedfiction]

Can I request plus size!reader where she is dating Charles but instead of her getting hate and stuff for her looks, the fans actually love her and question how Charles can handle all of her? THEY ARE THIRSTY thank you- 🦥 anon

Anon I love you, I enjoyed creating this. It might be extra cheesy but🤷🏽‍♀️🫶🏽

All Mine

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WC: 2.6k

Warnings: Thirsty fans, Charles is clingy, Y/N is a smartass but she loves her man

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

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Charles Leclerc had always been known for his charm both on and off the track, but when the news broke that the Ferrari driver was dating a plus-size Black woman named Y/N, the internet exploded in a way no one quite expected.

Instead of the usual scrutiny that comes with being in the spotlight, especially for women who don’t fit the stereotypical mold, Y/N was met with nothing but love—and a lot of thirst. Leclerc’s fans couldn’t get enough of her confidence, radiant smile, and how effortlessly she seemed to handle herself next to the F1 star. But that wasn’t all. The conversation online quickly shifted to something a bit more… provocative.

“How does Charles even handle her?” one fan tweeted, accompanied by a gif of someone dramatically fainting. Another user posted, “Charles out here pulling a QUEEN like Y/N? Boy, you better be built for this!” with fire emojis.

The more they saw of the couple, the thirstier the comments got.

“Charles, blink twice if you’re okay!” one commenter joked after seeing a video of the couple laughing together at a party, Y/N playfully teasing him.

In an interview with a lifestyle magazine, Leclerc was asked about the dynamic between him and Y/N. His face lit up with a wide grin. “She’s incredible. I think I’m the lucky one, honestly. She’s got this presence… it’s magnetic.”

Y/N wasn’t shy about showing her love for Charles either, posting candid moments of the two together on her Instagram. One video that sent fans into a frenzy showed them dancing in their living room, Charles clearly struggling to keep up with Y/N’s moves.

The comments were on fire.

“How is he not on his knees for her 24/7?” one fan asked under the post. “Girl, you are TOO MUCH. Give him a break!” another joked.

At one point, during a Ferrari fan event, a group of women wearing matching T-shirts that read “Charles, can YOU handle her?” held up a sign that read, “Y/N, teach us your ways!”

Charles saw it and burst into laughter, shaking his head. Y/N, who was watching from the sidelines, waved at the group, flashing her signature smile.

“Maybe they should be asking me how I can handle him,” Y/N later joked on her Instagram story, winking at the camera.

From the moment I stepped into Charles’ world, I knew it was going to be intense. I mean, the guy’s an F1 driver, one of the most loved on the grid. But what I didn’t expect was the complete opposite of what I thought would come my way. The moment people found out about us—about me—it was like the fans flipped a switch. And not the kind of switch where they throw shade. Nope. These people were thirsty.

It started small. A few comments under pictures I posted of us together.

“You’re glowing, girl! But, uh, how is Charles handling all of that?” with a winking emoji.

I’d scroll through my Instagram and see stuff like, “We need to check on Charles’ endurance off the track!” or “How does a man with that much stamina survive with a goddess like her?” It made me laugh, honestly. But the more I saw, the wilder it got.

One night, we were at home, lounging on the couch, and I showed Charles a few of the more… explicit tweets.

“Charles, you good, mate?” I read out loud, barely able to contain my laughter. “Blink twice if she’s got you needing an oxygen mask.”

Charles took one look at the screen, his cheeks turning bright red. “They really think I’m struggling out here, don’t they?” he said, shaking his head with that boyish smile I adored.

I grinned at him, nudging him with my elbow. “I mean, they aren’t wrong. You barely keep up with me when we dance.”

“That’s because you don’t warn me before you start those Beyoncé routines in the living room,” he teased back, pretending to huff in frustration.

But the comments weren’t just about Charles. They were about me, too. The fans genuinely loved me, which was wild considering how harsh people can be. They loved my curves, my confidence, and how I didn’t shy away from showing affection to Charles in public. I was always expecting the backlash, the snide remarks about being a plus-size Black woman dating a guy like him. Instead, I was getting comments like, “Sis, PLEASE drop the workout routine because you look FIRE!” and “Y/N, I need your energy. Charles is lucky to even be in your orbit.”

The first time I saw the group of fans at a Ferrari event wearing shirts that said “Charles, can YOU handle her?” I couldn’t stop laughing. I waved at them, completely blown away by how extra they were. I guess I should’ve been embarrassed or something, but I wasn’t. I was feeling myself. And clearly, so were they.

Later, when Charles and I were back home, I sat cross-legged on the bed, still buzzing from the energy of the event.

“They really love you,” he said, leaning against the doorway, watching me as I scrolled through the photos of us.

I looked up at him and grinned. “They love us. Mostly because they think you can’t handle me.”

Charles raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Oh, really?” he challenged, stepping closer, his voice low. “They’re wrong, you know. I can handle you just fine.”

I shot him a playful look. “Prove it.”

The next day, I posted a picture of us—his arms wrapped around me, me standing on my toes to kiss his cheek, the two of us smiling like we didn’t have a care in the world. The caption read: He can handle me just fine, thanks for asking.

The comments? Pure chaos.

“I BET HE CAN! 👀🔥”

“Girl, we don’t need details, but we’re imagining PLENTY.”

“I’m screaming—this whole thing is too much, and I’m living for it!”

Life with Charles was like this. Fun, light-hearted, but also deeper than the public ever saw. Sure, they saw the surface—how he adored me, how we were always laughing together. But what they didn’t see was the late-night talks, the quiet moments where he’d trace patterns on my back, or the times he’d look at me like I was the only person in the world.

The fans were obsessed, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them. But if they knew just how lucky I felt to have him? I think they’d really lose it.

It was the night before the race, and we were in our hotel room, another triple header. The race schedule had been nonstop, and though Charles loved the track, the constant travel and media pressure was taking a toll. He’d just gotten back from practice, exhausted, sweaty, and clearly in need of a break. I was lounging on the bed, scrolling through my phone, when I heard the shower turn off in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Charles emerged, his hair damp and messy, a towel slung low around his hips. He looked up and caught my eye, offering me a small, tired smile. But there was something else—something heavy in the way he looked at me, as if he was holding onto something he wasn’t ready to say yet.

“You okay?” I asked, setting my phone down and sitting up on the bed.

He nodded, but instead of going to his suitcase to get dressed, he walked straight over to me and flopped down on the bed, still only in his towel. Without saying a word, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest.

“Charles, you’re still wet!” I squealed, laughing as I felt the water from his hair drip onto me.

He just buried his face in my neck, mumbling something I couldn’t quite catch. I ran my fingers through his damp hair, letting him hold me, sensing he needed it. After a few moments of silence, I spoke up.

“What’s going on, baby?” I asked softly.

Charles sighed, his arms tightening around me. “I don’t know. Just… I missed you today.” His voice was muffled against my skin, and there was a softness in his tone that I hadn’t heard earlier.

I pulled back slightly to look at him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’ve seen me like, every day. What’s really bothering you?”

He hesitated for a moment, then finally admitted, “I’ve been seeing some of the comments again.”

I frowned. “Comments? What comments?”

“You know,” he said, his green eyes locking with mine, “the ones about you. The thirsty ones. People going on and on about how… how they’d kill to be with you. And I know it’s harmless, but sometimes… sometimes I just don’t like it.” He sounded almost shy as he said it, like he didn’t want to admit he was feeling jealous.

I couldn’t help but smile, finding it cute that this confident, world-class driver was feeling protective. “Charles, you’re not actually jealous, are you?”

He looked away, his face turning a bit red. “Maybe a little,” he muttered. “I just don’t like the way they talk about you. They don’t know you like I do. They don’t get to have you the way I do.”

My heart softened, and I leaned in to kiss him gently. “You know you’re the only one who has me, right? No one else even comes close.”

“I know,” he said, his lips brushing mine softly before he pulled back. “It’s just—sometimes I get these thoughts. Like… they don’t deserve to talk about you like that. You’re mine, and I don’t want to share even the idea of you.”

I laughed softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I belong to you, Charles. All of me. No one else gets to handle me like this.” I gave him a cheeky smile, knowing that would make him laugh.

And sure enough, his expression lightened, a playful glint returning to his eyes. “Damn right, they don’t,” he said, pulling me even closer. “I’m the only one who can handle you.”

I smirked, enjoying this clingy, vulnerable side of him. “You sure you can handle all of this, Leclerc? Because some of those fans seem to think you’re struggling.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, clearly pretending to be offended. “Oh, please. They have no idea what they’re talking about. I’m doing just fine.”

I giggled, giving him a playful shove. “You sure? Because the way you’re acting tonight makes me think you’re feeling a little insecure, Mr. Ferrari.”

“I’m not insecure,” he insisted, his voice a bit defensive but still soft. “I just… I want to make sure you know that I love you. And that… that I’m the only one who gets to be with you like this.”

I smiled, resting my forehead against his. “I know, Charles. And I love you, too. More than anyone could ever imagine.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. We just stayed there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. Charles held me like he needed to remind himself that I was really here, that I was his.

Finally, I broke the silence. “You’re so clingy tonight. Is this what I should expect every time someone thirsts over me online?”

He laughed, his arms still locked around me. “Maybe. Guess you’ll have to get used to it.”

“I think I can manage that,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek before snuggling into his chest, both of us content in the quiet comfort of just being together.

Charles tightened his arms around me as I nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat comforting. The room was dimly lit by the bedside lamp, casting soft shadows on the walls, and the sound of the city outside faded into the background. It was just us in our little bubble, away from the noise and the track and all the pressures of the race weekend.

I could feel him relax a little, his muscles unclenching as he held me close. I traced small circles on his bare chest, smiling to myself. I loved this side of him—the part of Charles that wasn’t the confident, cool F1 driver but the sweet, vulnerable guy who just wanted to make sure I felt loved.

“So,” I murmured against his skin, “are you going to get clingy every time someone slides into my DMs or comments on my posts?”

He laughed softly, his breath warm against my hair. “Maybe I will. You’re my girlfriend—can’t let anyone think they have a chance.”

“Oh, they know they don’t have a chance,” I teased, looking up at him. “They’re just living out their little fantasies. It’s cute, really.”

Charles pouted, his brows furrowing just a little. “Cute for them, but not for me.”

I giggled, poking his side. “Aw, is someone a little jealous?” I teased, knowing exactly how to get under his skin.

He rolled his eyes, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted, grinning. “It’s not every day I get to see Charles Leclerc all jealous and possessive.”

He huffed, but his arms stayed firmly around me. “I’m not that possessive,” he mumbled, though I could tell he was lying.

“Oh, really?” I arched an eyebrow, sitting up slightly to look him in the eye. “Then explain why you’re clinging to me like I’m about to disappear.”

Charles’ green eyes sparkled as he met my gaze, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “Because you’re the best thing in my life,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And sometimes I just want to make sure you know that. That you’re mine.”

My heart fluttered at his words. As much as I teased him, I loved how deeply he cared for me. His jealousy wasn’t about insecurity—it was about how much he valued what we had. I leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I know, Charles,” I whispered against his mouth. “I know, and I’m yours. Always.”

He kissed me back, his lips soft and slow, like he was savoring the moment. When we finally pulled away, he sighed, his forehead resting against mine. “I’m sorry for being weird about it. I just… I don’t want anyone thinking they can take what’s mine.”

I smiled, brushing my fingers through his damp hair. “No one could, even if they tried.”

He pulled me back down to lay against his chest, his hand gently stroking my back. “Good. Because I don’t think I’d survive without you.”

I laughed, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a while, we lay there in comfortable silence, my head resting against his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. The tension from earlier melted away, leaving only the warmth of being close to each other.

Just when I thought he had drifted off, he spoke again, his voice soft and teasing this time. “So… you’re saying if they thirst over you more, I get more cuddles?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grinned, pulling me closer. “Yeah, but you love me for it.”

I smiled against his skin. “I do.”

Charles let out a content sigh, his hold on me never loosening. “Good, because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

And honestly, I didn’t want him to.

After a beat of silence, he added, “Just… promise me something?”

I tilted my head. “What?”

“If the fans keep getting thirstier, you’ll remind them who you belong to?”

I grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure they know exactly who’s handling me just fine.”

y/n

liked by fan1, fan2, charles_leclerc, and others

tagged: charles_leclerc

y/n: always asking how he can handle me, GIRL HOW CAN I HANDLE HIM. I’M SLURPING UNTIL IT’S FALLING OFF THE BONE😉😩🥵

[View all Comments]

arthur_leclerc: putain de merde, j’espère que maman mère verra pas ça [holy shit I hope mom doesn’t see this]

⤷ y/n: I will apologize later but rn…

lorenzotl: y/n please there are kids…

⤷ y/n: yes Lorenzo down my legs and soon to be swallowed

landonorris: I need you to log off

⤷ y/n: you’re not tall enough to speak to me like that you funky gremlin

charles_leclerc: Mon amour…

⤷ y/n: literally begging on my knees Sharl

⤷ charles_leclerc meet me in my drivers room 👀

⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.

CL16 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @xoscar03, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @omgsuperstarg

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @mellowluka, @ysnhua, @omgsuperstarg, @qxeenjen

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Poly!Lost Boys x Busty!PlusSize!Reader

Marko: “Baby, why do you only ever wear Dwayne’s top?”

Y/N: “Baby, if I wore your tops it would barely cover my boobs”

*Paul and Marko confused*

Paul: “Yeah we don’t see your point”

****

Paul: “Come on, sexy, come sit in my lap”

Y/N: “No, I would crush you”

David, pulling you on his lap: “What a hell of a way to die”

****

Y/N: “My feet hurt”

*all the boys pushing and fighting each other to carry you*

*****

*wake up a bit late from an afternoon nap to find the boys resting on your thigh, boobs and tummy*

Y/N: “But why?”

David: *eyes still closed laying on your stomach* “Our partner is the comfiest and sexiest pillow in the world, forgive us for taking advantage of that”

(David: tummy, chaos twins: boob each, Dwayne: thigh)

[passionwillow]

Texts with your boyfriend Dr. Robby ❤️

[mi-olaaa]

↳˗ˏˋ Jjk men as your babydaddy. ˊˎ˗ ↴

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

↳˗ˏˋ Jjk m.list..ˊˎ˗ ☆

Gojo Satoru.. ☆ ˊˎ˗

• He is so clingy, it’s almost sickening— y’all might’ve broken up, but to him? That don’t matter.

• You don’t know what a moment of peace is anymore, as soon two found out you were pregnant, he was ON it.

• Doctor’s appointments? He’s there. Shopping trips? He’s there. Whether it’s you resting at home and he’s caressing your belly, or you in the bed taking a nap. Gojo is there.

• What Gojo lacks in personal space he makes up for with how much he absolutely spoils and dotes on you. Whatever you want. Baby clothes, random pregnancy gadgets, even maternity clothes and stuff unrelated to pregnancy, you have it.

• About you two breaking up? Like I said it doesn’t matter, Gojo is literally there everyday almost, helping you out with everything, all the heavy lifting you can’t do at a certain point in your pregnancy, setting up the nursery, fucking you so good when your hormones become too much, and plenty other things to take care of the mama to be.

• Most importantly of all, when your bundle of joy was born, he was there, holding your hand through it all, ready to meet his baby with you.

Toji Fushiguro..☆ ˊˎ˗

• Toji honestly.. He’s not the best, but yk.. He’s definitely something.

• The whole reason you two broke up is because of you getting pregnant, he couldn’t handle it, literally, he walked out on you.

• He didn’t come back for a long ass time, you were only a month away from giving birth when he finally decided to accept the fact that he was a father again.

• He’s still the same asshole you know, but a little sweeter, but only because he felt guilty. Goes to a couple of the last appointments, and was there when the gender was found out.

• Gives you your space when you asks, understands that you are definitely still mad at him, but he looks absolutely adorable in the pictures you take of him and the baby.

• Sees the child every time on his visitation, one rare time he doesn’t, had to do another job. Other than that.. I mean idk, he could lean more the shitty bd at times, but he has his good moments too.

Nanami Kento..☆ ˊˎ˗

• When you found out you were pregnant, he was over the MOON. I mean, this man was crying, but not bawling his eyes out 😭

• Was talking so much shit about being a girl dad, while you thought it would be a boy. He won.

• Always says something along the lines of ‘my girls’. Always. He still has love for you definitely, and respects any boundaries you have, but yo’ ass was definitely testing how much self control he had some days.

• Turns out he had a pretty good amount of control to respect said boundaries, but it wasn’t until you FaceTimed him one night on that pregnancy hormone shit— Horny and leaking? How could he not take care of you?

• Whew shit y’all. If you weren’t already pregnant, you definitely would’ve been now. He put that WORK in. (He made gentle, intimate love to you, he’s too much of a loverboy to do anything else frfr (at least while you’re pregnant))

• Kento was there when you gave birth, and afterwards to help you with postpartum, mans is so obviously in love with you. SNEAK ATTACK— he proposes to you, and you quite literally woke up from a nap, holding your baby girl. You said yes. You said yes right? YOU BETTER HAD SAID YES MF HE IS SUCH A CUTIE PATOOTIE

Choso Kamo.. ☆ ˊˎ˗

• Honestly for the both of you, those nine months were a blur, he was there, partially out of curiosity though. 😭

• You had twins! Two little chubby cheek babies, one a girl, and one a boy.

• Choso doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he’s trying y’all. He took almost an hour when he changed them for the first time, and cried because the babies were crying and he thought they must’ve been mad at him.

• always has the twins in those cute ass lil fuzzy animal onesies, his favorite to put them in are the shark ones. And he sends you pictures of them of course!

• Loves his kids to death and literally cannot process through his day without seeing them at least once. He might have some slight feelings for you, but pushes them down in respect of trying not to make a disruptive home life for the kids (is literally just convinced if you two get back together you will break up again and yeah..)

Suguru Geto.. ☆ ˊˎ˗

• Girl dad. I mean, he already had Mimiko and Nanako, ofc he’s a girl dad, don’t matter if they adopted frfr. Did i mention he’s a girl dad? HE IS A GIRL DAD. BOWS IN HIS HAIR, STICKERS AND ALL.

• Sucks ass at changing diapers tho, sorry y’all, we can’t all be great. His baby got that luscious hair from her daddy, blame him for heartburn.

• You two broke up? He dgaf about that! Literally js be all up in ya damn house, but honestly, if he wasn’t on the day your water broke, you would’ve been giving birth in the shower— so be thankful I guess? 😭

• He dotes on you, makes late night target runs for the random shit you crave, be tired asf, but anything for you pookie 🫶🏾, especially since you’re carrying his child.

• Mimiko and Nanako love the child too, tbf it’s a baby, who wouldn’t? Take their little sister shopping mf 😭 playing at the park when she’s older, and babysit too.

• Geto could be busy at some point, but when he is, he makes sure to see his kid once a week. He is such a cutie patootie with his skrunkly ass baby, you can’t help but take photos when you can.

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: honestly ion got nun to say 🤷🏾‍♀️ except for #girldadnanami2024‼️

‘IGHT BYEE 🫶🏾

[rafesbabygirlx]

hi im new hear but I absolutely love your smuts. I specifically love how they're written where you could imagine the reader any way but I was wondering if I could specifically request a plus sized reader? If not that's completely fine but I was specifically wondering if you could do a rafe's first time with a girl he actually loves and he's terrified to mess it up please. Also reader being a virgin and a pouge.

dont forget to take care of yourself love <3

Hi sweetie <3

I appreciate your sweet words. You have no idea how much they mean to me!

You're right, I don't usually give my readers any attributes for the reason of imagining whoever you want but I am always happy to write something that gives some sort of representation to some! I hope I do her justice and I hope you like <3

Coming back to note but I couldn’t help make this super sweet and sappy. Wanted reader to feel special and wanted Rafe’s nerves throughout the date and build up to their first time. I am a bit nervous to post this btw 🥲

𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 - 𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎!𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖, 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎- 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍

You sat at the beach with your friends, thinking about what Rafe had planned for you and him later that night. The cool breeze brought you back to reality, you wore a sexy red 2 piece that flaunted every inch of your curves.

You and Rafe had been together for 8 months now, and tonight you planned to get serious with him. You had never been with anyone the way you have with Rafe. Compared to the girls who you’ve seen him with before, you didn’t think he’d look once in your direction.

You’ve never been ashamed of your body. Even around your friends. You watch the way Kie and Sarah come up from the water with their slim legs and toned abs. But you just weren’t built like that and you loved that about yourself. You were a bit taller, thighs thicker, ass fatter, breasts were more filling in your tops, stomach poked out a bit. But you felt hot in your skin and that’s all that mattered.

What you’d never expect is to be with the Kook Prince himself. Looks matters to him. Image mattered to him. He worked out 5-6 days a week. You worked out with him from time to time. You loved the way his eyes would follow you up and down when you’d squat.

He was pure muscle. The girls before you matched his image. Long, skinny, and toned. Again, it didn’t bother you because the way he adores every inch of you, drowns any thought of it.

The day that he came up to you, palms sweating, avoiding eye contact, asking you if he could take you out for the first time you were taken aback. You’d never really interacted with him in the past. You’ve seen the way he acted though. You knew he was Sarah’s brother, you knew your friends hated him. But you were never mingled into all that mess. You’d stay quiet on the sidelines.

Your first date he took you to a small restaurant on the mainland. It was a simple place, cozy. He asked you a million questions, to learn all about you. You work a simple black dress, one that hugged you in all the right places. He couldn’t keep his hands off you.

The second date he brought you a gift of all the little things you mentioned on the first. He learned all about your favorite hobbies and even began to open up about him a bit.

The third date ended with his lips finally meeting yours and you both knew at that moment you were hooked.

Your friends weren’t happy at first when you brought up the dates. But Sarah mentioned a shift in his attitude and she saw how you meant the world to him. She didn’t see a shred of doubt when he’d speak about you. The other Pogues were going to have to get used to it because you know from that moment you kissed you were totally smitten over the Kook Prince.

His friends never understood how you two ended up together. Kelce and Topper would try to push his buttons about your size and how you were a Pogue. But nether mattered to Rafe. You made him feel seen and wante. Nothing anyone in his life had ever done for him.

Those dates were 8 months ago. Tonight was your 8 month anniversary. You were ready. Rafe was patient with you. He was kind and sweet and even made attempts to make amends with the Pogues for the sake of you. They could all see it by this point. You were so happy in your relationship.

Rafe was as nervous wreck making sure tonight was perfect. You had expressed your motives recently and knew you were finally feeling ready and he wanted to make every moment special for you tonight. What you didn’t know was that this was his first time too. He had an image as player but all those girls that hung around him and tried to get with him, he’d never let them.

He could feel his hands tremble as he drove to the other side of the island. He could already feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He needed tonight to be perfect. Just for you. For the both of you.

He arrived at your house to pick you up at 3, you emerged from your house in a silk sage green dress he’d sent to you for tonight. A slit so high up your thigh he thought he couldn’t faint from the sight of your leg peaking through as you strutted towards him. Adorned with the gold jewelry he’d showed you with over the past few months - you told him he didn’t have to but he was never one to listen. Once you met him, next to his truck, he was swarmed with the scent of you. Vanilla. Head to toe in vanilla. It was the first thing that drew him into you when he first approached.

The warmth of the sweet scent enveloped him when you wrapped your arms around his waist. He wiped the palms of his hands on the pants of his suit before wrapping his arm around you, running down yours feeling the softness of your skin. Taking you all in. You pulled back slighted to look up at him.

“Hi,” your eyes beamed looking into the ocean blue abyss of his.

Rafe smiled back down at you. “Hi. You look - wow.”

His eyes raking you in, mouth that’s stuck open, and loss of words has you giggling.

“Such a way with words, Mr. Cameron. Could you at least tell me what we’re doing?” You cock your head to the side in a teasing way.

“Can’t that’s a surprise. Come on now, we’ll miss the ferry.” He helped you grab your overnight bag, placing it in the trunk of his car. He raced back over to the passenger side before you could reach the handle, opening the door for you. Following every rule he drilled into his head.

“Such a gentleman,” you smirked as he helped you up into the car.

He got in and started heading towards the ferry. His hand was on your thigh. Kneading the supple flesh, it’s become some sort of coping mechanism for him when his mind races. You felt content. The car was silent and you peaked over to take a look at Rafe. His eyes were steady on the road, cheeks were flush and jaw was tense. Your hand loved on top of his rubbing soft circles into the top of it.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m perfect.” He forced a smile at you, fighting through the nerves.

“Are you sure, the quiet is normal but your never usually this tense around me.”

“I’m ok, I just want tonight to be perfect. For you. For us.” He took a sigh of relief, finally able to get that off his chest.

“Rafe, I get to be with you tonight. It’s already perfect. I promise.”

An hour later you reached the mainland. You and Rafe walked along the storefronts on the boardwalk, stopping in front of a pottery shop. Something you used to love to do before you had given up all extra curriculums to work to help your mom.

He lead you inside, your favorite music was playing, the lights were dim and a bouquet of your favorite flowers were sitting on the table. You turned to Rafe with a huge smile on your face. He cupped your cheeks pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

You each sat with a pile of clay in front of you. Rafe snickered as he pulled a screen in between the two of you. You fake gasped at the action, a giggle following after.

“Let’s surprise each other.”

You and Rafe got to work on each other’s pieces. It was about 3 hours to finish. Between making, painting, and firing, the two of you spent the time in a peaceful quiet.

When each piece was done. You couldn’t wait to present so you needed to go first. It was a ring holder painted in his favorite colors. Included was a small stand to hold a photo of the 2 of you. Rafe smiled from ear to ear, then placed a kiss on your temple.

“My turn, go ahead baby.” He placed the object in your hands.

It was a vase, covered in handmade seashells with the words - “yours forever and always. Rafey.” carved into it.

Tears welled into your eyes. 2 of your favorite things. Seashells- from when you told Rafe you and your dad would walked the beach collecting them before he passed. Flowers- the one extra thing you buy yourself with tips from the country club every week. That extra thing that became you and Rafe’s where every Sunday morning you were greeted by a new flower delivery.

“Thank you Rafe, I love it,” he wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Leaving another lingering kiss on your lips.

“Come on Angel, we’ve got reservations.” You follows him out of the studio, gifts in hand.

The car arrived in front of the beach front restaurant where the two of you had your first date. You fought back tears as you realized where you were. Rafe greeted the host at the entrance, trying to keep his cool for you. You passed the table you two sat at for the first time and followed the host outside to a secluded patio rimmed with candles and flower petals. The two of you shared stories, ate in a comfortable silence and spent time just listening to the ocean waves embraced in each other.

You and Rafe made your way to the hotel. Nerves wreaking havoc through the both of you.

You feel ready. You know you’re ready. You’ve just never felt anything like this and that’s what made you nervous. Rafe has showered you with love these past 8 months. You dived into the deep end and you never thought anyone could love you this much. It’s making you over think. Getting to this point means everything and what if you end up ruining it.

In Rafe’s mind he’s worried HE’s going to be the reason everything gets ruined with you. He’s ashamed this will be his first time too. He thinks he should know something. How to make sure you’re comfortable, how to treat you, how to make you feel good and he knows nothing. His mind is whirling, his hands are sweating again. He’s terrified but too terrified to let you know.

The hotel room is once again littered with flower petals and candles, mirroring the serene scene of your dinner. You sat quietly at the edge of the bed watching Rafe place your bags on the couch in the corner of the room. He turned and just stared at you.

“Come sit,” you motioned by patting the empty spot next you.

Rafe obliged, crossing the room and taking the seat next to you. His hand immediately went to your thigh, kneading the soft skin.

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong.” You readjust to face him.

“Nothing is wrong. I’m perfectly happy.” He fakes but you’ve gotten to know his little tics since being with him. He’s lying through his teeth, pretending to be alright.

“You’re not and that okay. Just tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours.”

“I’m nervous, okay? I want this night to be perfect for you and I’m a nervous wreck that it won’t be.”

“What would make you think it won’t be?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You’re taken aback just a bit by the confession. “You’re a..?”

“Yeah I’m a virgin. It’s embarrassing I know.” Rafe ran his hands up and down his face. Cheeks flushed a cherry red and hot to the touch.

“Why would you think that’s embarrassing? I’m a virgin too.”

“Because I’m not sure if I know how to make you feel good the way you should.”

You couldn’t believe it for a second. You were at a loss for words. The Rafe Cameron was a virgin? The same Rafe Cameron who had girl swarming him at every chance during a party? Your eyes softened as you took a real good look at him. He really was nervous.

“I think you hang around your friends a little too much. I’m just as nervous. But I’m ready. I was ready before you told me and I’m ready now. I want you Rafe, even if that means learning this together. Please?”

Rafe looked at you with wide eyes. He was so in love with you. He was so ready for you. The proclaimed player of OBX waited his whole life for someone to give all of himself to and that person was you. “You got me.”

“You’be been full of surprises all night. Now it’s my turn.” You stood from the bed, grabbing your duffle and taking it to the bathroom with you.

As Rafe waited he pulled your vase out with the flowers from the pottery shop and placed them on the table. Then he grabbed his new ring holder. Placing the three rings from his finger onto it admiring it for a few seconds before returning to the bed.

You returned to the bedroom a few moments later. Rafe lifted his head and his jaw dropped. You were a sight for sore eyes. A literal dream pulled from his sleep and brought into real life. An angel sent down from heaven to save him.

You stood there, one hand on the doorframe. The other resting on your full hip. In nothing but a two piece lace lingerie set. Your thighs thick and luscious, your breasts on full display for him.

You walked over to him and stood in between his legs. His hands ran from the back of your knees, up your thighs, to your butt giving it a firm squeeze. It was like all his nerves rushed out the window the minute he laid his eyes on you. He just wanted to be engulfed in your body.

“I’m ready for you Rafe.” You spoke softly but confidently.

“You know I love the way you look right? How I can hold you like this. I’ve never wanted anything more.” He said back before pressing light kisses along your stomach.

You moved past him to lay on the bed. Rafe stood and slowly removed his clothing until he was just in his boxers. He climbed on the bed and hovered over you. His arms a bit unsteady as the thought of what is about to happen settles in. But the excitement of making love to his girl means more.

He took his time making sure you were okay with his next moves. No more words were being shared. The both of you too indulged in the moment. The movements between you two were enough communication.

You arched your back as he undid the clasp of your bra. Revealing your large perky breasts. He holds both of them in his hands as his mouth slowly descends onto one of your nipples as his swirls his tongue around it.

He sat up and removed his boxers. Rafe was on full display and you gulped softly at his size. He reached the hem of your panties, looking back up at you for approval. Once you nodded he slowly pulled them down and off.

He leaned back down so you were chest to chest. He lined himself up with you and slowly pushed himself inside. You let out a gasp at the feeling. There it was, that infamous pop. Your cherry was popped. Your innocence gone. You thought you could hear it happen for a second. You had no regrets of it now missing from your life. The right person took it. Your person.

Rafe stalled for a second. Waiting for the discomfort in your face to leave before rocking his hips against yours. The sound of your skin rubbing together was music to his ears. All his nerves of wanting this night to be perfect were gone. Because this night turn out to be more than perfect.

He began to pick up the pace just a bit. You felt so good around him. He wasn’t bound to last long. But he wanted you to finish too. Rafe knew what to do, he’d just never done it on anyone before. He took initiative and sat up. He lifted your thighs to get you at a better angle. One hand kneaded at the skin of your plump hip, the other came down to your clit. His thumb started rubbing circles to the speed of his hips.

You let out soft moans letting him know how good he’s doing. You weren’t quite ready to get loud yet, but he got the point. He sped up a little bit more when he knew you liked what he was doing.

Eventually your back arched and you came. Your legs shook around Rafe’s waist and you let out the most beautiful sounds. This got Rafe to his point. He came and collapsed onto you.

Here you were, 8 months later with the love of your life. You were someone who was doubted by many on his side of the island. Talked about, talked down to. Made it seem like she wasn’t worth Rafe’s time or trouble. But now he was the one you were falling asleep with as he was nestled in between your breasts. Just like how it felt like it was meant to be.

Tags + some moots 💕

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