#fat!reader

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Eye Candy 🍬

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Jason Todd × chubby/curvy!reader

FINALLY. I've been wanting to get this out for forever but shit kinda hit the fan and I'm also sick right now lol

This is pure comedy. So much fun to write!! This is for all my thick girlies <3

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Jason wants you to meet his brother (Dick) and his best friend (Roy). As if that wasn't enough of a bomb, doubt starts to creep into your mind at the realization that your curves would make you stand out like a sore thumb in the Wayne family. Jason proves you wrong by taking you to a bar and letting Dick and Roy walk right into a trap.

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"You want me to what?"

"Hey, it's not that big of a deal-... yeah, no, it's... it's a big deal." Jason winced, brows furrowing while he flexed his hands around his mug.

Coffee- of course it was, though it was far too late in the day for even more caffeine, or so you'd scolded him once again.

You were staring at him, slack jawed, eyes widened just slightly as a brief huff of disbelief left your lips.

"Jay, you just told me you want me to meet your family. In what world is that not a big deal?!" You exclaimed, your tone a little more screeching than you'd liked.

He sighed, shoulders dropping ever so slightly, his eyes turned away as a frown etched itself onto his features.

"It's just Roy and Dick, s'not really meeting my family." He mumbled, toying with the handle of his cup, scratching his nails against the ceramic.

"Look, you don't have to, alright? I just thought-... I guess I don't really know what I thought."

Your heart ached. You've never seen him so defeated. So utterly downtrodden. His back slouched, head hung low while his gaze was focused on anything but you.

That heartbreaking glimmer in his eyes that never failed to make your own water.

Gently, you pried the mug from his grip and set it aside, taking his hands in yours.

The action made Jason avert his attention back to you, looking like a kicked puppy.

"I do want to meet them. I really, really do. Because they are your family, whether you want to admit it or not." You smiled softly, watching as he lit up immediately, a huff of relief making his chest feel lighter.

"I'm just nervous. And worried, I suppose? What they'll think, you know. I'm sure that I'm not exactly what they imagine when they think of your girlfriend." You chuckled nervously.

Jason, on the other hand, looked confused. Eyes narrowed, You-can-see-the-gears-turning-but-nothing-is-happening confused.

"What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You cackled at the expression on his face and the goofy tone of his voice.

"Okay, let me put it like this. You're family is a bunch of buff, unfairly jacked and lean super geniuses. Not to mention how good the girls look. And Kori? She's a literal space princess! I just feel like I don't quite fit in. Can you imagine someone like me at one of those Galas? They would lose their minds-"

"'Someone like you? You mean a gorgeous, beautiful, stunning plump lady with a brain so big I sometimes wonder how your neck is still intact? You mean someone like that? Because we could use more of that, trust me." He chuckled dryly.

"Also, you're hot as fuck." He deadpanned, blankly staring at you.

You playfully rolled your eyes, tracing the space between his knuckles.

"A. I know, B. you're biased. I mean, they all probably expect you to date some super model." You explained, sighing.

You knew your worth. You knew that you were beautiful and perfect just they way you are, even beginning to love yourself.

But when challenged with a family full of hotties like the Wayne's plus Gotham's elite, it was hard not to feel just a little out of place with all your curves, bumps and pudge.

Jason's lips were pressed together in a thin line before he inhaled sharply and pinned you down with his gaze.

"Alright, first of all, they have no expectation of who I'd date because I was fuckin' dead, and when I came back my only interest was revenge and smashing peoples heads in. If anything they thought I would die alone."

The bluntness of his words and the expecting raise in his brows had you shell shocked, and pleasantly surprised.

"You're making problems for yourself that don't exist, ladybird." His tone turned soft as did his eyes, enveloping your heart in a blanket of warmth.

"So, respectfully, you don't have a point." He concluded for you, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied noise.

"Huh, I guess I don't." You breathed out, a smile spreading on your face while Jason already sported a wicked grin.

"There ya go. Now, can I brag about my hot, smart and curvaceous girlfriend to my dickhead brother and loser best friend? Because, sweetheart, you're one hell of a woman." He smirked, leaning in to get you all hot and bothered by his proximity.

You bit your lip, trying to act unaffected by his antics.

"Okay, fine," You groaned, feigning annoyance, "But only because I love you." You finished, failing to hide the smile on your face.

In one swift motion, Jason grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, your back pressed firmly to his chest. You let out a startled noise that morphed into a laugh.

"See? Just had to butter you up a bit, pretty girl." He nosed at your neck, a grin showing off his pearly whites while his arms were snaked around your middle.

"What can I say? You have a way with words." You smirked, looking back at him over your shoulder.

Jason chuckled and turned you in his lap, making you face him.

"I do have a very skilled tongue, as you know." He winked at you, kneading the fat of your hips in his hands.

You groaned and rolled your eyes before grinning and pinching his cheek.

"So, you up for tomorrow? It'll just be at a shitty bar somewhere. They won't judge you, I promise. And if they do, they can take it up with Fuck-" Jason raised one arm and flexed his bicep, "and You." With a wide smile, he lifted his other arm, and you watched as his muscles practically inflated.

You giggled, squeezing his arm with an approving nod of your head.

"I'll be there. I just have some errands to run, so I'll meet you at the place, yeah?" You replied sweetly, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Jason's face scrunched up at your kiss, making him look like an adorable little bunny.

"Sounds good, ladybird." He replied, smiling.

There was something hiding beneath that smile, though. Something sinister. Mischievous. You squinted your eyes at him.

"... What are you up to?" You asked suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Who? Me? I'm not up to anything." He replied sweetly, batting his lashes at you.

"Mhm." You hummed, searching for a hint in his teal eyes.

You could see his resolve cracking, his gaze breaking from your for just a split second. You continued to stare at him. Jason cleared his throat and gave you a tight smile before striking.

Quickly, he pushed you off his lap, making you stumble to the floor of your living room on shaky legs before he lowered himself to the ground, hooking one arm around your knees and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You screeched, digging your hands into his hoodie so you wouldn't fall.

"What the fuck! What are you doing?!" You screamed, cracking into a smile when you heard Jason cackle mischievously.

He moved quickly, rounding the couch and any obstacles with ease.

"Well, you see, I've been stumblin' over my words all day. Care to help me loosen up my tongue at bit, doll?" He grinned, hurrying to your bedroom.

"Jason!-"

Your voice burst with a laugh before you were interrupted by a loud crack when his hand met the back of your thigh.

You gasped, quickly followed by a slap against his clothed back.

"Remember that name, angel. I have a feeling you'll be using it a lot tonight."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"So, she coming?" Roy asked curiously, settling back into the deep-set lounge with his drink.

The redhead was seated in the middle, between the brothers, earning a shove and an annoyed eyeroll from Jason.

Dick snickered, taking a sip of his beverage.

"Why are you so obsessed with my girl, dude?"

"We just wanna make sure she's real. I'd hate to break you out of Arkham again, little wing." Dick grinned from behind the rim of his glass.

"Wow." Roy clicked his tongue, nodding along to the diabolical comment.

Jason only stared at his brother blankly, blinking once, then twice.

"Too far?" Dick asked, wincing slightly.

"Whaddya think, dickhead?" Roy sighed sharply.

"You should be so glad that I'm in therapy. Otherwise I woulda wiped the floor with you right now." Jason mumbled, taking a swig of his drink.

"It's the Piña Coladas talking." His brother chuckled awkwardly.

Jason just snorted, leaning against the soft cushions.

"To answer your question, yes, she's coming." Roy lit up, excitedly setting his beer down on the table.

"Really? So we get to meet the fabled ladybird, huh?" The redhead grinned, bumping his shoulder with Jason's.

He only shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes at Roy.

"Why didn't she come with you, then?" Dick asked, brows furrowed.

"Had to stop by the craft store." Jason replied simply, finishing his drink.

"Oh, so it's like that? You really did get yourself a pretty little thing, didn't you?" Dick smirked, watching as Jason chuckled in response.

"Dickhead's right. They not only make pieces of art, they are ones." Roy agreed.

Dick scoffed at the nickname.

"She's pretty alright. Looks like she belongs in the Louvre." Jason responded with a smile, then immediately regretting that decision when Roy and Dick began to look like the cheshire cat.

"Ooooo, Jay's in looooove." Roy teased with a chuckle.

"Did little wing find an even littler wing? That's adorable." Duck sniffled, wiping a faux tear from his lashline.

Jason grumbled in response, flipping them off.

"At least I didn't cheat on my girl." He mumbled sharply, hiding behind his second -or third?- glass of the night.

Dick's smile fell and he was reduced to a muttering mess, pouting like a child.

"God, you guys are actual children. Can I have one night-"

they both glanced at Roy when he stopped speaking, his lips parted as he stared at the entrance of the bar.

"You're lettin' flies in, carrot top." Jason said blankly.

Roy let out a low whistle, loosely gesturing to the bar before a smirk cracked on his face.

"Look at that piece of Eye Candy over there."

Dick followed his line of sight.

"Fuck me." He cursed, eyes wide.

"Look at those hips, jesus-"

"Now that's a woman."

Jason was mid sip, uninterested in this mystery woman ordering a drink at the bar. But, he glanced up anyway, only to choke on his drink when his eyes landed on you.

He sputtered, coughing as he felt the alcohol go up his nose.

"Woah, she got you good, didn't she?" Roy teased with a laugh, patting his back.

"Yep.." Jason croaked out, holding back a laugh.

"I'm telling ladybird." Dick said quickly.

Snitch.

"When will she be here anyway? It's been a while." He questioned, pulling up his sleeve to take a look at his watch.

"Soon, soon.." Jason replied, clearing his throat.

"Man, she could sit on me, and I'd thank her. And that rack-"

Roy continued letting his eyes trail over your body.

As amusing as Jason found this little misunderstanding, he couldn't help but grind his teeth and clench his fists.

Meanwhile, Dick delivered a slap to the back of Roy's head.

"Pervert! You don't talk about women like that." He scolded the redhead.

"Says you! As if you don't wanna be suffocated by those thighs or-or knock out on that tummy, I know you do!" Roy said sharply, pointing an accusing finger at Dick.

"Of course I do, but I didn't say it out loud, now did I?" He replied in a condescending tone.

"You fucking-"

"Oh, look, she's approaching us." Jason said nonchalantly, leaning back into the cushions with a grin, watching as the petty bickering between his brother and best friend stopped immediately.

"I call dibs! I saw her first." Roy said quickly, straightening his posture and trying to look unbothered while you approached.

"God fucking dammit." Dick cursed, being left to grumble with his Piña Colada.

He looked at Jason, who was comfortably leaned back with a smirk.

"How are you so chill about this?!" Dick asked irritated.

"You'll see." Jason grinned.

You walked towards them with a smile, the drink you'd just ordered at the bar in your hand. Roy put up his most charming face and quickly cleared his throat.

"Hello there, sweethea-"

his entire face dropped when you placed a hand on Jason's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Hi, baby." You greeted sweetly.

"Hey there, ladybird." Jason grinned, glancing at Roy and Dick.

The redheads jaw was on the floor, speechless while his gaze flitted between you and his best friend. Dick was just as shocked, but quickly broke out of it.

"THAT’S LADYBIRD?!" He yelled, earning harsh stares from other guests.

Dick quieted down with an apologetic smile and leaned closer to Jason.

"You fucking asshole! Why didn't you do anything? You let us say all those things-" at the realization Dick went pale.

"He's gonna beat our asses." Roy mumbled, still staring at you and Jason.

"... Fuck."

You just stood there dumbfounded while Jason had a grin on his face that made a shiver run down Roy's spine.

"What things?" You asked, you brows furrowed in confusion.

Jason pulled you into his lap, resting one of his hands on your thigh.

"Don't worry about it, angel." He said softly, pecking your cheek.

"How the hell did you end with such a charity case as Jason?" Roy asked bluntly, slumped in his seat, defeated.

"Excuse me?" You sputtered with a scoff.

"That's a lot of nerve coming from someone looking like an affair baby." You shot back.

Dick burst out laughing, Jason cackling along side him while Roy only stared at you.

"And she's feisty? Fuuuuuuck.." He whined.

"Nice to meet you, ladybird." Dick gave you a friendly smile and nod, still wiping the tears from his eyes.

You returned the smile before leaning in to whisper into Jason's ear.

"Is the rest of your family also like this?"

"Like what?"

"Loudmouth assholes." You replied, staring straight at Roy who looked like you just slapped his mother.

Jason laughed, throwing his head back when he saw Roy's face.

"Ah, no. Some of them are quiet assholes."

Dick scoffed, immediately defending himself and his siblings with big hand gestures.

You chuckled as you watched.

"Don't be sad, carrot top," Jason began, giving Roy's shoulder a squeeze, "You couldn't handle her if you tried."

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Jason loves fat girls. Argue with the wall <3

Let me know what you think! 😚🩷

More of Jason and others -> 💫

《DC Taglist》: @allysunny @arkhamknightscxnt @gaozorous-rex-blog @hellonhells-x

Comment to be added 🐝🫧

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[v4mpiremutt]

whatever,, go my 141

yes this was self indulgent for me in some way IDK ANYMORE.

[sevikasfemme]

HEY! I love that you write chubby!readers!!!! I was WONDERING if you could write something about reader being nervous and self-conscious about sitting on Sev's face???

ALSO can I be ✨ anon? :3

oh my goodness!! i love this prompt! thank you for this request; it got me out of a bit of a funk <3 in this house we maintain sevika loves fat femmes so i went that route, i hope you like it NOTE: not super polished, quickly written <3

content tags: lesbian sex, chubby!reader, fat!reader, plussize!reader, reader has a vagina, words such as "tits", "breasts" used, femme!reader, bottom!reader, top!sevika, whiney!sevika (lol), dom/sub undertones, spanking, sap/fluff, a little possessiveness

word count: 1.2K

Sevika lets out a low moan, her eyes darkening as she sees you hesitate. She had asked you to sit on her face, and you were incredibly bashful at the thought. Her strong grip  gently guides your thighs to straddle either side of her head, now hovering above her. Sevika’s face flushes, and she lets out a needy whine, her hands grabbing at your plush skin, trying to pull you down against her. You fluster, body running away from her as you pull against her, covering your face. 

“Sev…I’m too–, I don’t want to—” you stammer.

Sevika scoffs, cutting you off. She can hear the trepidation in your voice, but she doesn’t hesitate as she squeezes your soft hips “Hush, sweetheart. Get down here–let me taste you, pretty girl.” she murmurs, gripping you harder, pulling you closer as her mouth waters over the thought of you on her tongue. “Please, sweetheart, please. I need you–” she begs, her voice desperate as she lets her tongue dart out, just barely touching your sensitive folds. You squeal, heat rushing to your cheeks as you grip onto her hair gently. Sevika kneads your thighs, not wanting to lose her chance of having you, and she whines again, trying to pull you into place. “Sweetheart—sweetheart, please—” her tone a combination of desire and desperation as she tugs you down again, her tongue lapping at you as you squirm. Her nose bumps your clit and your resistance falters; eyes glazing and body tensing in her hold. She lets out a moan as she feels you finally give in, her hands guiding you down against her face. Sevika’s palms slowly run over the soft fat of your thighs, up to your heavy hips, keeping you in place as she kitten-licks at you; before sucking softly at your labia—her mouth completely consumed by you as she works you lovingly. You lurch forward, shaking hands coming to grip the headboard to steady yourself, and you feel her moan against you. Your head falls forward, eyes fluttering as you grind your cunt onto her tongue. Sevika groans in approval at your movements, rubbing at your tummy gently to ground you. You whimper out for her and Sevika hums against you, sucking harshly at your clitoris; moving to lap at you greedily. 

“Sev— I can’t” you pant out, legs trembling as you try to pull away from the stimulation of her mouth. She roughly holds you down against her; her tongue moving over your swollen clit as she looks up at you, eyes lidded, before pulling away just enough so you could hear her. 

“Yes, sweetheart— you can.” she smirks, pressing a kiss to your mons pubis “You’re being so good—so good. Just keep taking it, yeah?” she hums, taking your clit back between her lips. She slowly swirls her tongue in lazy circles over you; “Just relax, just let me—” she mumbles against you, her voice muffled by your skin. She yanks you down again and again, each time that she feels you pulling away from her, trying to avoid overstimulation. That wouldn’t do; she wanted you overstimulated and squealing. “Don’t fight it baby– don’t run away from me–” she coos, moving lower and pressing her tongue deep into you, her cupid’s bow framing your clit before she tilts, nudging the ridge of her nose up to lift the hood of your clitoris, exposing more of your sensitive skin to her as she grinds you on her nose, the rough ridge of cartilage sending shocks of pleasure through you; her tongue curling inside your cunt. She was everywhere and you were blissed out, too focused on how good her nose felt as it rubbed against you to be overly concerned with how you looked from this angle— but a part of you worried…

“Sev— baby—” you mewl, embarrassed; one arm coming up and covering your heavy chest as she palmed at the backs of your thighs. She groans into you, and you see her eyebrows angle disapprovingly at the sudden concealment of your tits. Her flesh hand moves away from your thigh then comes down harshly on your ass, causing you to yelp. Sevika grunts, grabbing and pushing forward on your ass, burying her face in your folds. Her other hand reaches up and tugs your arm away from your chest, lowering it with a whiney protest from your lips as she firmly places your hand on her head, daring you to cover up again. You pout, tugging at her hair as your eyes flutter. She chuckles into you, sliding her hand up your arm, over your collar and down to your nipple, giving it a firm tug as she rocks you onto her tongue. 

“Sevika, please—!” you squeal, thighs trembling with the effort of staying upright when she was all but torturing you with the stimulation of her mouth. Sevika moves her hand to hold your waist, keeping you steady as she gropes your ass, tongue curling and hitting just the right spot as she noses your clit roughly; coaxing your orgasm out of you. Half lidded grey eyes rove over you as you tremble atop her, and she revels in it— the way your thighs clamp around her head, muffling her hearing as you pant and cry out her name over and over again. She rubbed soothing circles on your hip, drawing out your climax and lapping at your slick release. Carefully, Sevika gentled her attentions, tongue slowing to tender movements as she cradled your hips— fingers splayed wide to provide support and attempt to ground you as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. 

You felt faint, body weak from her ministrations. Sevika knew, and she tutted, maneuvering you so you were laying on your back as she loomed next to you, wiping your juices from her chin. Her eyes soften and she chuckles “Pretty girl,” she coos, her organic hand coming down between your thighs again, stroking gently over your swollen clit. A choked cry passes your lips, and tears prick in the corners of your eyes at the overstimulation. She shushes you, running her hand up to your tummy and dipping her head to press kisses into your shoulder “M’sorry, sorry–” she soothes “too much, baby?” she asks gently. You nod weakly, lip wobbling pitifully. Sevika moves to gather you in her arms, massaging your thigh as she kisses down your chest “So beautiful, all for me hm?” she praises, peppering kisses over your still-swollen nipples, reddened as a result of her earlier touch. With gentle, apologetic caresses, she moves her palms and lips over you, drawing paths from your neck, to your hips, to your tummy; soothing your overstimulated flesh and anxious mind. She mumbles praise into your skin; “pretty”, “beautiful”, "soft", “sweet”; syrupy synonyms as she worships over you. Eventually, her lips press over your eyelids and she chuckles breathlessly, enamoured at your sleepy sounds. Sevika pulls the duvet over you, moving to spoon you from behind. Her eyes grow heavy—arm draped protectively over your waist; her copper thumb caressing the swell of your hip. As she drifts off with you, her lips press lazy, reverential kisses to your neck. You were the center of her universe— the sole focus of her unwavering devotion.

[mittensnom]

“chubby reader” this and “chubby reader” that.

no.

i want a fat reader like 250ibs+ i want her so heavy and her want her in love.

im sick of the cod guys dating skinny girls

[yeetmyboi]

Surviving the Holidays

a/n : MDNI. festive lights banner by @/strangergraphics. MDNI and support banners by @/cafekitsune. simonxreader, relationship est. reader is said to be female and bit of a bigger gal. just some fluff for this holiday season. this is for my fellow retail workers who are just trying to get through this festive hellscape and make it out to the other side.

— — —

You stumble home. Feet and back aching after yet another long shift. All these doubles might kill you. Between the holidays and everyone calling in sick, you’ve been running yourself ragged. It makes you bet on which one might get you first, work or the nasty flu that’s going around. At least you’ve managed to miss any icy patches climbing up the apartment’s steps tonight. Take the wins where you can get ‘em.

Sliding the key into the lock, you hurry and slip inside before the cold can sneak in. A shiver rattles your bones as you shrug off your jacket. One by one your winter layers fall away—hat, scarf, gloves, boots—all returning to their designated homes till they’re needed again. You shed your winter gear like a snake sheds its skin, only you don’t have a heat lamp to sun under after.

Despite the deep chill that still resides in your bones, the warmth you feel from knowing you’re not alone is enough to thaw you out.

Simon’s home.

Muffled noises come from the tv, filling the otherwise silent flat. The smell of something cooking hits your nose, making your tummy grumble. All signs that you’re not alone. It’s enough to bring a tired smile to your face.

Your socked feet shuffle as you make your way to the living room. The sight before you fills you with a warmth that can only come from the word ‘home’.

Simon sits there on the couch, lounging on his back, reading a book that looks as worn down as you feel. He glances over his readers as he greets you, “Welcome home, lovie.” 

Like a weary soldier returning home, you make your way over to him without a word. Swinging your leg over his hips, you straddle him and lean forward, crawling up under his arms. Usually you’re conscious of how much you put your weight on him, but that seems to have floated out of your head the moment you saw him. All you can think about is burying your face into his soft pecs.

So you do. Nuzzling into the softness much like a cat, rubbing its cheek against its favorite person—purring and eager for more contact.

His chest bounces gently as he laughs at you, amusement and fondness clear in the teasing tone he takes. “Missed me that much, did ‘cha?”

You still don’t answer. Just a pleased hum from your throat as you continue to rub against his chest. Absorbing his presence and scent, letting it ebb away the stress that’s been heavy on your shoulders all day.

Simon slowly wraps his arms around you, already knowing what you need. He squeezes you, nice and firm, letting the pressure ground you. Not letting go until you start to squirm. Another chuckle and his arms slowly fall away, a hand coming to mindlessly run up and down your back.

“Made a stew tonight. Somethin’ to warm ye up,” he states.

You acknowledge his comment with a content sigh, nodding with your head still firmly on his chest. A small voice in the back of your head tells you that this is probably his way of politely asking you to get off.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to crush you. I just really needed…that.” You mumble, already pulling away.

“‘M not broken, love. In fact, ye make a lovely blanket.” He says as he wraps his arms around you once more, pulling you back and squeezing tightly. “Might ‘ave to keep ya here. Supposed’a be chilly t’noght.”

“Nooo, Si!” You squeal with surprised delight, pushing against his hold with both hands.

“Sorry, lovie. Looks like you’re not goin’ anywhere.” He gleams with delight at your pretend struggle. “Ye wouldn’t let me freeze, would ya?”

A thought pops into your head, and without much consideration for the consequences, you act on it. Your teeth teasingly nip at his soft pec, hitting his nipple with precision.

“Oi!” He jolts at the contact, sending the abandoned book tumbling to the floor. “Blankets don’ bite!” The bark in his voice is a playful one, like yips from an older dog trying to match a pup’s energy.

You dissolve into giggles, smothering them in his chest. Simon squeezes and gives you a shake. He huffs, but the warmth in his chuckle betrays him. “Cheeky lil’ thing,” he mutters, his hand resuming its slow rub up and down your back.

You sigh into him, letting his touch melt the day away entirely. The smell of a warm meal wafts through the flat, promising warmth and comfort, but for now, Simon’s arms are enough. This is enough.

This is home.

— — —

me while writing this :

[abbonation]

In the Back of His Truck

John Price x Fat!Reader

⚠️18+ below the cut, Minors DNI, do NOT feed my writing to c.ai or any other generative AI platform! ⚠️

I just know John Price drives a big ole, lifted 1970s- 80s Crew Cab F-250. It’s loud, obnoxiously cool- and the back is fitted with his tool box and on the go weaponry cabinet. The seats have those rag rug covers on them. He’s always got oldies playing, Your Love by The Outfield is on currently.

When he sees you plodding uphill on main street toward the Inn, toting your suitcase and bags, he slows and pulls over to the side of the road. “Wan’ some help?”

You glance up at him, sweat dripping and stinging your eyes. “‘m fine, thanks,” you huff out and make to continue on. But he’s out of the truck and opening the tailgate before you can take a step. “‘ere,” he huffs as he lifts your suitcase in one motion into the truck bed, “There we go. C’mon then,” he opens the truck door and holds his hand out for you to climb in.

You had heard people up north were nice, but not this nice. You laugh nervously, “You’re not a serial killer, right?”

He makes eye contact with you, shooting a sly smile your way, “Course not, love.”

You hum in affirmation and pull yourself up into his truck with his hand, the thing must be nearly 4 feet up off the ground, and you’re already exerted from the trek up to this point- too tired to argue or subject your feet to anymore walking.

But it’s not everyday a sweet plushie hen like yourself falls into his hands, John moved on instinct upon seeing you- not stopping to decide if what he was doing was sensible.

No, from now on, as long as you’ll let him, you won’t be carrying your suitcase ever again- in fact, you won’t be carrying anything. Except his babies around in your belly and on your wide hips for the rest of your life.

— - But let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. - —

Two months later and you’re parked off the side of the road, hidden somewhere near La Poel, on a weekend camping trip with Price during his leave. The trucks cab is opened out to the water, both the front door and suicide door opened for ample room- you’re face down, ass up and John is on his knees behind you, eating. Some old rock song plays through the radio while his tongue flattens against you, his face is as close as he can possibly be to your cunt, his scruff rough against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs; you swish your hips side to side to ride his mouth. John’s unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans, so he can fist his cock while he laps at you.

You’re mewling for him, “Fuck, John, yes-“ and he can hardly keep it together beneath you. Once you’re begging for him, he pushes up off the ground, standing before you, and shoves his old Levi’s the rest of the way down his wide hairy thighs, exposing his thick, veiny prick and fat balls to you. You peek under where your belly hangs, reaching to hold his sac and guide him into your soppy hole.

His eyes roll back, “fuckin’ ell, hunny, need me that bad?” His mauve colored tip notches inside you and you moan your approval to him, desperate for him to manhandle you a little. “Please, John, baby-“ your finger tips dance over your clit while he fucks you. Price spreads your cheeks and spits right between them; your cheeks heat when he says, “Bet your little asshole is tight too,” you clench down on him. He laughs meanly and grips the fat of your hips. “Yeah, you like that, don’chya. Like bein’ a nasty little thing f’me,”

“Oh- John,” you whine, embarrassed at his words. He fucks you deep, as deep as he can- the sensation of his length against your inner walls and his balls knocking against your gooey, engorged clit plap, plap, plap get you close quick.

When he rubs his thumb over your asshole, barely pressing inside, you start to come, and it’s the most heart-wrenchingly, ball-drainingly sexy thing John has ever seen or heard. His mouth drops open at the way your walls flutter sweetly around his dick, kissing all over his head and frenulum.

There’s no way he can keep from spilling inside you. Your pussy starts to sound all gushy, squirt leaking from your cunt, cum squishing and bubbling around the base of him and into his pubes, down over his balls and onto the rainforest floor. “I’m comin’, hun,” he can’t stop, groaning all deep and raspy as he holds onto your hips to punch into your cunt a final few times. You reach underneath again and grab his balls holding them in place so you can feel them pulse as he empties all his cum into your cunt. “Oh goddamn-“ he moans as he slows, still loosely thrusting as he drains it all into you.

Finally, you release each other, as he pulls back from you, a mess of juice and spunk floods from within your opening, out onto the ground. You collapse forward, tired out from your afternoon delight.

John, however, leans into the front seat, grabs a napkin from the glove box, and scoops up your mess from the ground beneath you, release littered with pieces of moss and twigs now.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him, genuinely.

“The rule is leave no trace, right?” He smiles, raising an eyebrow as he pats your naked calf and pulls you out of the seat towards the water.

——

So yeah basically I need a creampie real bad someone plz help me. Written on the bus ride back from an incredible journey across the PNW, of course the sights were beeeautiiful, but I'll bet the sex out there would be too ;)

[urhoneycombwitch]

Hmm…what, oh what to send as an inbox treat…

We already know our neighbor is good in a pinch if something breaks in our apartment (lord help us if the a.c. went out during this egregious heat wave 🥵), but it stands to reason he’d also be good helping to put new furniture together…

Say if he broke our bed and we had to get a new one 😈

I hope it’s not deeply obvious I need an Eddie in my life to fix things for me by the way I describe the bed issue as loosely as possible. this was written in a 20 minute fever don’t look too close!!!! thank you and good night

cw: husky!neighbor!Eddie, he’s older ya’ll but i leave the age to ur discretion, plussized/fat!reader with breasts, flirting

more of neighbor!Eddie here!

___

The lemonade glass is frosty in your hand as you lean a shoulder against your bedroom doorway, pausing a moment to take in the sight.

Eddie’s sitting shirtless by the bed, just a faded pair of black boxers between his ass and the floorboards. 

Not that you’re complaining. Sometimes, you turn the AC in your apartment down just to get him to strip quicker.

A rusted metal toolbox is tipped on its side, various random items spread between the V of Eddie’s legs as he leans forward and back, switching his tool of choice to a screwdriver and snaking one long arm underneath the bed frame again.

“That mine?” He asks, brows leaving their concentrated furrow to crook your direction.

“Maybe.” You take a languid, cool sip, just skimming off the top as you evaluate. “You fix my bed yet?”

Eddie scoffs. Tries to hide the curl of his smile with a shake of his head, hair loose and cascading around the tops of his bare shoulders. “Unbelievable. ‘Least a guy can ask for is a hot young thing to bring him a drink after all this physical labor.”

“Physical labor, right.” The sarcasm drips along with the condensation of the drink, but you’re smiling, too, as you step into the room to extend the glass downwards. “Should’ve given that some consideration before you fucked me so hard you fucked my bed up, too.”

“As I recall-” 

The partial view of Eddie’s upper right forearm is tantalizing, muscles rippling as he screws something loose into place, not even needing to look- his eyes are on yours as he takes the glass in his left hand. 

“-you were sure as hell beggin’ me to keep going. Might do you good to share the blame, sweetheart.”

You sigh, like it pains you to lean down and pick up some of the scattered tools (really, it’s an attempt to redirect Eddie to your ass, successful based on the sudden jumping noise his screwdriver makes). “Fine. I’ll agree to a thirty/fifty split if you get it up and running again for tonight.”

Eddie tosses the last tool back into the righted box, takes a big gulp of lemonade, and winks. “You got plans for the evening, already?”

He shuffles to kneel, pulling you in by the waist, grinning when you softly push at his forehead- “Yes, you maniac- my plans include sleeping. It’s already 11 and we have to get our beauty sleep after all that recreation.”

“You’re pretty enough for the both of us.” 

Eddie sets the glass on the floor, then kisses his way up your body as he stands- one for each of your bare thighs, your tummy and breastbone through the soft fabric of your tee, and finally, just behind your ear. “Besides, can’t sleep on that bed for another 12 hours. Gotta let the hinges reset.”

One of his big palms slides to cup the back of your head. It’s second nature to let your neck relax into the hold, to allow his lips to suck a mark at the base of your throat while your arms find rest across his broad shoulders.

Your fingers trail gently at the edges of his full back tattoo, lines you’ve memorized and could recreate sightless, as you murmur, “Sure you didn’t just make that up to take advantage of my handy-less ness?”

“Oh, you’re plenty handy, baby,” Eddie says, drawing back only to look down at you with eyes dark as cocoa, faint grin still at the corners of his lips. “What’cha say we scoot across the hall and do some more damage to a working bed frame?”

[rpgsandstuff]

Here we go, my first official attempt at writing Call of Duty fanfic! Written very quickly and I'm posting it before I lose my nerve.

poly!141 x fat!afab!reader. Some suggestive language, but nothing explicit.

Big hands, rough with callouses, roam smooth, soft skin. Fingers and lips follow curves and trace stretch marks, whispered words of devotion and worship.

When Kyle approached you at the pub your friends had dragged you to, you were sure he was acting on a dare or as a joke. No one who looked as good as him ever gave you the time of day. He bought you a drink and seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, asking questions like he was actually trying to get to know you.

Your friends were distracted by the guys that had been chatting them up, so you only hesitated for a moment before accepting his invitation to join him and his mates at their table. It felt like a dream the way these four big, strong men paid attention to you. You'd always felt not pretty enough, not feminine enough, not thin enough for the type of attention they lavished you with.

Your self deprecating comments were met with narrowed eyes and murmurs of “don't talk about yourself like that”. Big hands gently overlaid yours when you nervously tried to pick at your nails. They had a way of making you feel like you weren't too big or too unattractive. To Kyle, Johnny, Simon, and John, you weren't too much or not enough of anything. You were just right.

You gave them your number and they each spent time getting to know you. They took you out, individually and in groups, and proved to you over and over that they cared about you as a person and not just a body they wanted to take to bed.

Months later, you finally found yourself in their bed as they called you their queen and their goddess and worshipped every inch of you.

[peachyproserpina]

Nasty

Elliot x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Elliot made it into Corps training, you're making him late to the announcement.

Warnings: Elliot's mean, tardiness, swearing, sex, smut, spitting, semi-established AU(which will be introduced soon), as always MC/Reader is Fat

A bite before: @glassbxttless is the one who wrote this if I'm being honest. She managed to take my jumbled ramblings and translate them over to this beautiful little morsel.

Elliot is mean as he thrusts into you. His pace unforgiving as a warm palm makes sure you take every single inch of him. His grip firm on that fat-swell-handful, using the leverage to keep you pinned down against that uncomfortably cool table. You’re already fucked out and he’s barely begun. You were running behind today, fucking Dorris was late coming to relieve you, and you knew there’s that stupid meeting— no one from OP1 can be a second late for. Including the soon-to-be corpsman who is spitting right where he’s pounding. The fingers on his other hand mean and messy against your clit, a smile bright on his features as he makes you cream around his cock. 

“Fuckin’ told you, can’t be late to this.” Elliot’s thankful he’s got your wrists tied up behind your head and a fuckin rag from somewhere in this closet stuffed into your mouth. You’ve got those cute almost sparkly tears runnin’ down your cheeks and he knows that you’d be making those whiny sultry pleads to be able to cum already if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full. 

It’s desperate and messy, you’re already fucked out, but you know this song and dance deep down. You’ve been fucking like rabbits (much to Mac’s dismay). You’re very aware of how this is gonna go. He can’t drag this out how he usually likes, how he’d have you ride his boot and then make you clean up the mess. Or how he’d like to bend you over the nearest surface, or maybe how he’d like to have you sit on his face and ride him till your hips are rolling hard and pressing down proper. If Elliot dies right now, he may as well be in Heaven— or as close as he’s going to get anyway. Usually getting you so close too many times until you’re crying for him— begging with those breathy, “fuck” “Elliot” “Please Sir”’s. Maybe he’d let you cum once or twice, just to watch the way you melt for him. Before— if it’s a good day, (he’s between shifts at the hospital, you’re free from the diner, and Mac’s outta the apartment)— he starts it all over again. 

You’re whining loud, muffled through the makeshift gag— but he still catches it.— Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze, when you realize how loud you’re being. His thrusts even paced and not slowing down a bit. He’s watching the way your pupils are blown wide and trying not to roll back in your head. A satisfied smirk graces his features and a bead of sweat was rolling down his temple. Elliot is almost concerned with the volume, the wet slap of skin on skin as he’s pounding away, not subtle even in the slightest. If it weren’t for the rows and rows of stacked shelves between the two of you and the door, he’d bring himself to care more. If anyone were to walk in, they’d know exactly what you were up to if they dared to venture a few feet back. 

“Gonna fuckin’ pay for that, sweetheart.” He catches the way your manicured fingers flex and tense at his threat. 

You’re close. 

He savors the way you take him before he’s stopping, burying himself to the hilt in your greedy cunt. You can feel every fucking inch, and the way the hair at the base of his dick is pressing against your clit makes your eyes roll back in your head. You were so fucking close to the finish line, and the pause in his ministrations has you falling back from the edge of bliss. If Elliot’s hand wasn’t keeping you pinned down, you’d be sat with your arms thrown around his neck, pleading with him to let you cum, that you’d do absolutely anything. His hand abandons your soon-to-be-bruised flesh on your belly to keep you pinned down, hand pressed right to the center of your chest. He leans over slightly, bending you just that little bit more. 

Your leg is hooked around his very much still clothed shoulders. You’re trying to grind down— just begging him to let you cum with nothing but your eyes. But unfortunately for you, Elliot is unforgiving. His hands slam down against the table next to your head. He’s not giving you an inch, he’s keeping you exactly where he wants you— unmoved and compliant for him. A bead of sweat rolls down his face, dripping off the tip of his nose. He follows where it lands below him, splashing against your skin. And he catches the way your dress is pinned between you— your tits nearly falling out of the top. They were barely contained in the dress you had worn during the ceremony, you were Mac’s little sister after all; you’d been allowed to tag along as family. Elliot getting to use you as his own personal fleshlight after is just a fortunate perk. 

“No fuckin’ bra, I knew it.” It doesn’t take much effort on his part to have your tits spilling out. Just a barely there tug, he lifts himself up just a bit to watch them run over as he does. He gives a mean pinch to your nipple, before he’s grabbing a hefty handful to give it a good shake. Entranced as he watches the way your tits jiggle, the way you’re so fuckin’ soft under his hands. 

“Eyes up, sweetheart.” Your head tips forward from where it had been thrown back. You clench around him when your eyes meet— and he can tell it wasn’t on purpose. “You don’t get to cum. Maybe after this fuckin’ meeting that—“ he draws his hips back slowly, laying out the ground rules for the night ahead. “We’re going to be late getting to.” The sentence is punctuated by a hard thrust, burying himself right back up to the base of his cock. He’s close, so damn close, and he’d mad that despite the fact he’s had you in just about every position he can think of, you can still milk him dry in no time at all. 

You both are so wrapped up in one another, that you don’t hear Erik’s voice calling out for Elliot. Needing to check in before this shit really gets going, having to track his ass down which is very unlike him. No, Elliot is just cumming his brains out in Mac’s little sister’s guts, not catching his CO calling for him. He doesn’t hear the way Erik— who’s already been on a few tours— gasps at the sight before him. It’s sinful, the way Elliot’s got your ankles held (with one hand as he uses the other to zip up his trousers.) He can catch the way his cum leaks from between your well fucked thighs. 

It takes a lot to get him riled up. He knows he shouldn’t be seeing this. He knows he definitely shouldn’t be this hard at walking in on Elliot in this kind of fucked up situation. Involving you, Mac’s little sister, of all people. But here he is, blush creeping up his neck and sweat starting to drip down his back.

Oh, Erik's in for it now.

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a comment or reblog!

[angelpassing-by]

THAT SHELL WE CALL A BODY

Characters: Kaeya, Neuvillette, Ayato [blu bois] x [fat!/size neutral!fem!reader] Cw: discussion of weight and body, self image issues, suggestive (?) [maybe if you squint your eyes in Kaeya's part], descriptions of food (i'm so sorry, i just love ice-cream and as a lactose intolerant i just spend all summer daydreaming about it, I literally can't shut up about ice-cream for three months straight), vage mention of dieting. I hinted at this like two months ago, but the Neuvi part just didn't come through as I wanted it, after redoing it several times [and experiencing that first hand] I think I'm now satisfied. So basically you are feeling bad about your body due to different things and the bois comfort you A/N: bad English be aware. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝑜 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁. 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑜���𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝒹𝑔𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝑒𝒹. 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓉.

𝓚𝓐𝓔Ⴘ𝓐

It had been years since you last enjoyed a bathing afternoon in Cider Lake followed by a relaxing nap in the Sun. That's how you would spend your childhood summers, splashing and running around in the rocky shore. That was until your teens where you started to become self-conscious about your looks, you didn't look like you "were supposed to", although you weren't too sure how you were even supposed to look.

When you managed to start dating Kaeya the self-loathing began to disappear because, if someone as him, the famous Calvary Captain no less, could love you so deeply, how could you be unlovable? Nevertheless, you tried to hide your body as much as possible and limit the intimacy with each other.

"Maybe if my thighs were smaller, and if I had a slim waist. If, if, if..." As every summer you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, inspecting your body from all angles, comparing with those pretty girls you saw in books and movies. Maybe there's something wrong with me, you had tried it all, exercise, diet, but nothing worked and just made your anxiety sky rocket which in turn made you gain the weight all back again.

"Hey, pretty" your boyfriend suddenly pops behind you snaking his arms around you and plants a kiss in your exposed shoulder.

"Don't say that" you grumble suddenly mortified by the image you two make, him, lean and tall, and you, a tiny and chubby.

"Why?" He kisses your other shoulder and stares into your reflection. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"I can't believe you, I'm so fat and ugly and- " Kaeya cuts you off.

"You are adorable and you are so fucking soft" His eyes lock with yours through the mirror and he continues softening his serious tone. "You were literally made for me to hug, your thighs are the best pillow when I come home tired, not to mention how hot you look whenever you wear something short" He playfully pats your butt and you can't help but giggle.

"I do have a great ass" You say and he laughs kissing the side of your neck. "So you don't think I'm ugly, even though I don't look like those thin models and actresses?"

"Don't be silly you are much hotter with your soft curves and those legs, damn, I'd be the happiest man if I got to die of asphyxiation between them." He responds, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if your words had mortally hurt him.

He hugs you again, tighter. "Now seriously, you are pretty, and hot and beautiful and I don't think any other woman in the world could compare to your beauty. And even if you don't believe me, let me tell you that there's no more perfect body for you than your own. And I love you, and I love every inch of you, it doesn't matter how it looks because it's you, and the people who really love you will see how gorgeous you are. And of course, what a great ass you have."

That is the little push you need, seeing the feral look in your boyfriend's eyes as he ogles you, the way his hands hold you with such care and his lips place ghost kisses along the curve of your neck.

"Do you fancy spending the evening in Cider Lake?" You ask softly.

𝓝𝓔𝓤𝓥𝓘ℒℒ𝓔𝑇𝑇𝓔

"Dearest, is something wrong?" Your boyfriend's voice wakes you up from your thoughts.

"Um, yeah, just thinking, that's all" You answer trying to act normally as if thousands of horrible insults to yourself weren't running through your mind in that same moment.

"So, do you want some ice-cream?"He inquires pointing towards the parlor’s poster displaying some of the most delicious sweets you've ever seen, ranging from mint and berries to an elaborate chocolate dessert with sugar sprinkles and cookies toppings.

Your right foot starts bouncing nervously as you shift your gaze around, avoiding Neuvillette's piercing gaze.

"No, I'll pass" You respond. That's probably one of the hardest things you've ever done. There's truly nothing like having a cold ice-cream under the scorching heat of Fontaine's summer strolling along the crowded streets of the capital. But you saw that woman's look, the woman next to the pharmacy, just in front of both of you, that look you knew all too well: "she shouldn't be out here eating more, that's the reason she looks like that". Sadly, one too many passing comments and dismissive looks from your family had made you recognize it from a young age.

Neuvillette gives you a quizzical look but doesn't push any further. He orders himself something you don't have the courage to look at and meanwhile you focus on his pretty hair, the way it reflects the sun in his high ponytail. Of course he had let you tie a ribbon for him before going out and you smile inwardly reliving the sweet moment.

Which is, of course, spoiled by that woman, staring intently from across the street. When you try to return her stare she just looks you up and down with a peculiar face, one you sadly also know. The look that says, "maybe if you were better, you would look better, like me."

The burning shame sets across your face, painting your features reddish. You feel so, so stupid, after all this time, you think, it shouldn't affect me like this.

"Neuvi, can we go home already? I think I'm getting a bit tired" You urge your boyfriend as soon as he gets his treat, starting to walk a few steps ahead him so he can't see your watery eyes.

"Of course, darling, do you want me to call a doctor? I happen to know..." His voice is usually reassuring and warm, but now the world is just too hot and your head spins with anger and sadness. You stop focusing on his words as you both walk home, him, still a step behind you and you, still containing your tears.

At home, your boyfriend grabs your hands before you get the chance to get away, leading you to the velvety blue couch in the living room.

"Hey, are you fine? You've been kind of distracted this afternoon." His tone is laced with concern.

"Yes Neuvi" But your answer does not convince him.

"Are you forgetting love that you talking to the Iudex of Fontaine? Not even the most expert criminals can lie to me, and you, love, aren't really good at lying."

"'M sorry Neuvi-"

"I don't want to press you to tell me something you don't want to tell me, but I just want to know if there is something I can do about it."

Those words just break the little self-control that maintains your tears at bay. They start rolling around your puffy cheeks as heavy droplets of rain. With a concerned look, Neuvi hugs you closer, reassuringly tracing circles in your back with his hand. I'm between sobs and hiccups you manage to explain the situation as best as you can.

"- it's just, I know it must sound stupid, but -"He shushes you cupping your face in his hands.

"Nothing my pretty lady sais is stupid, do you want me to get that rude woman in jail?"

"What? No!" You exclaim with a horrified look, "It's not that important."

"Well, it is, staring disrespectfully at others is an offense and you have feelings, feeling that have been hurt, feelings that very much matter to me. Nobody should look down others and that woman had no business judging whatever you were or weren't doing."

You huff "What are you going to do then, send everyone that looks at me like I'm thrash to jail?"

"Of course, nobody has the right to determine how you feel towards your body" He gets up more determined than before, "Now, does my pretty lady want an ice-cream" His look is so serious that you can't help but feel like you are in one of his trials, but nonetheless, you respond with an equally composed voice, albeit broken at the end by a little chuckle.

"I'd like that very much Sir Iudex of Fontaine."

𝓐Ⴘ𝓐𝑇𝓞

You can't do it, you can't, well, that annoying little voice in the back of your head keeps you saying that you can't, all because of that stupid summer gala your boyfriend Ayato had convinced you to attend.

It had all started last week, with a scented letter from one of the many upstanding noble women in Inazuma. Ayato had come into your shared bedroom at night, just as you were going to sleep, waving it around. He was so excited you just casually agreed to be his companion, after all, as he had said, you had been a couple for a long time now and you always had refused to attend to such events with him.

He got you a delicately embroidered kimono made with the finest of silks just to match his attire, an ornate fan imported from Liyue, even sparkling blue glass hair pins. All you could do was cry for days. And now, again, you walk around the empty tea room adjacent to your bedroom feeling like an stranger.

You look like an ugly thing pretending to be a pretty girl. That's what that little voice reminds you each time you catch a glimpse from your reflection on the vases.

You will ruin his reputation, what will people think when they see him with something like you?

"Is everything all right Lady?"Thoma's voice startles you and you stop your pacing to look at the man's concerned face.

You nod absentmindedly and offer a weak smile. Thoma seems skeptical, however, he bows and leaves you alone again with your thoughts until your inner monologue is disturbed again not too long after.

"Dear, may I come in?" Ayato's voice is heard following two soft knocks on the door.

"Yes, it was Thoma, wasn't it?" You ask a bit too dryly as the door peeks open.

"Yes, but-" Ayato stops dead in his tracks when his gaze falls upon you. "Oh Heavens, you look truly incredible. Why didn't you tell me you were trying your outfit on? I would've worn mine too. Though I'm afraid nobody will look at me with such beauty by my side."

"Don't laugh at me." You huff with a scornful look.

"I'm not." He looks positively puzzled at your words. "You are stunning."

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, "Well, I'm not sure I should go with you."

"Did I do something wrong? Is it the dress? I should have ordered something more luxurious, I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe if-"

"No, no" You cut your boyfriend's panicked diatribe. "It's me." To that he truly looks dumbfounded. "Can't you see it? I look... not like you."

"What?" He tilts his head like some sort of confused puppy waiting for further instructions.

"I don't look thin and tall and imposing like you, I don't want others to judge you because of me" That wasn't entirely the truth, even if some high society folk spoke poorly about you, no one would dare to disrespect the Yashiro Commissioner. No, you just didn't measure up.

"That's not going to happen. Besides, it shouldn't matter what anyone thinks of you. Not even me." he gestures to himself "Although if you don't mind me saying, your curves look positively breath taking in this thin silk."

"I don't know if I believe you"

"Don't believe me, you don't have to like your body, but rather, see the value in what it offers."

He spins you around, the blue kimono shifting with your motions, one, two, three times, until you take his hand and begin dancing around the tea table. Now, the reflection of the vases depicts a lovely woman with a regal attire. Yes, she's chubby and soft, but that only makes her look more ethereal. And you realize a split second after that you are that woman.

Maybe you are just as beautiful as you boyfriend thinks, but even if you aren't, you are grateful to have a body that allows you to dance clumsily and with no music whatsoever in a tea room just before sunset.

[enarien]

I may be a fat bitch but according to shifter bear!Price fandom I'm in perfect shape to have his chubby little cubs so suck on that haters!!!

[baby-greatness]

Miguel O'Hara with this tiny fat black secretary who behaves strictly like Penelope Garcia. She openly hits on him, feeds him horrendous pick up lines, calls him pet names like "Big Sexy" and "Baby Daddy" all in good faith

He (eventually) gets used to it and starts to engage every now and then, calling her "Muñeca" and to her utter delight — "Baby Girl" which Derek calls Penelope.

Calls him "Boy Bestie" and "Besfren" when she needs to grab his attention. He finds he prefers Big Sexy instead.

[deny-the-issue]

Love Thy Nature

Summary: Set in the "Baldur's Gate 3" epic tale, you struggle with ongoing body image issues while pining after Halsin, hoping to earn a special place in his heart.

Thank you so much to my lovely beta readers @juniper-sunny and @sirenofzaun <3

AO3 link

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Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of interest in this fic! I hope you all enjoy <3

[MDNI] [Halsin x fat!Reader] [no mention of gender pronouns] [reader has vulva/breasts] [body image issues] [whatever height you are, Halsin is taller] [whatever weight you are, Halsin can lift you] [smut] [fluff] [angst] [happy ending] [oral sex] [vaginal sex] [teasing] [5580 words]

Chaos. Those first few hours were absolute chaos. In Baldur’s Gate shopping for vegetables one moment, infested with a slimy tadpole the next. At least you aren’t alone. 

Even if they intimidate you. 

You all have a common goal, and you wear this safety like a blanket. With companions like these, maybe you’ll have a chance to live. If you don’t get caught in between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, that is. 

Stomach rumbling, feet aching, thighs raw, the nights end with you silently crying yourself to sleep. You are distinctly unsuited for this life. The others say nothing, but you feel like you’re letting them down when you lag behind them during the day’s journey. You simply cannot keep up with Karlach and Lae’zel’s pace, and with the dismal amount of food for dinner, you’re starving. 

You’re not the only hungry one, but you are the only one that eats away from the fire, in solitude. Even in the city you preferred to eat alone. Judging eyes haunt your every bite, but you know the shame comes from within. You know you have no right to complain about being hungry when you have the most weight to lose.  

So you suffer in silence. 

Your armor consists of ill-fitting cloth and leather which you have to repair frequently. The cloth is thin and your thighs can rub it away to nothing within a single, travel-heavy day. The others have found armor that suits them quite well, and you’re happy for them. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t envious of the ease at which they can find things that fit. 

It’s hard not to dwell on your size. How it would be easier to find armor if you were skinnier. How much easier it would be to keep up. How much more confident you would be. 

You see your travel companions flirt and cast lewd looks at each other. It lightens the heart to see, yet stirs a deep yearning within that has been your constant bane over the years. To love is something you have known many times, but to be loved is another story entirely. Truly loved for everything you are, inside and out. It seems impossible to behold when you cannot fathom loving yourself in that way. 

Maybe one of them would have given you a chance, if only you had the confidence to try. 

As the days go on, you learn more about each other, some willingly and others forced. Just when you think no one else is hiding something, another secret arises. Every single one of them has enough problems without the threat of becoming illithid, and you start to see the people underneath the mask of intimidation you assigned to them. 

Despite your best efforts to keep your distance, they start to grow on you. Their troubles become yours, and a warm feeling of belonging takes root in your chest. 

The grove is a delightful little community. Their harmony with nature is beautiful, your curious eyes take in every part and crevice. 

Maybe too curious, since you had a near scrape with the guards due to the little shit, Mol. She’s too smart for her own good–trouble will surely follow her wherever she goes.

Just as it does you.

Just as it does him, too, apparently. Breaking a bear out of a dungeon is a first for you, but watching that bear transform into the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen becomes a keystone memory. 

Already you are filled with conflicted feelings, more thankful everyday this horrible thing happened to you because it brought you to them. All of them brilliant, all of them flawed, and all incredibly beautiful. 

You cling to the hope of his companionship as you prepare to protect the grove. Halsin’s knowledge instills fear in your bones, more defined than it was before. Now you have an idea of what you’re up against, and it’s all much bigger than you can fathom. Getting to know him personally casts away the worrisome thoughts; his words a honey-sweet distraction to the storm clouds gathering overhead. 

You leave his company with a smile straining your face, but it doesn’t take long for the bite of loneliness to nip at your heels. Halsin’s answer about lovers echoes through your mind, a deep spiral into well-trodden waters. 

“Right now? I bed down alone, I’m afraid. Perhaps once I talk less of curses and parasites, my fortunes will improve.”

How foolish of you to think he might warm to you. You’re sure his fortunes will improve, only with someone else. Someone more deserving of him. 

These depressing thoughts do not stop you from befriending him. Quite the opposite, in fact. By casting aside your hopes for romantic love, you feel as though you can finally start to be yourself in camp.

And you’re surprised to find they like you. Your spirit and sense of humor return to you in troves–making some poor sod kneel for Lae’zel has everyone laughing at camp that night.

Yet you still make off alone with your bowl of stew when dinner is served, until a large obstacle blocks your path. 

“I do not pretend to know why you dine alone, but you are most welcome to join us.” Halsin smiles kindly.

“I know, it’s ok. Thank you, though,” you try to dismiss him, but he doubles down. 

“Do you not find our company agreeable?”

“No! I mean, yes? You’re lovely–you’re all lovely,”you stammer, heat rising to your face. 

“Good, then you’ll have no problem joining us,” Halsin’s eyes sparkle with amusement, no doubt from watching your mind implode. 

The prospect shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is, yet you cannot help but feel extremely uncomfortable. 

You beat down the slight panic and return Halsin’s smile, unwilling to argue your case further. What would you even say? Laying your insecurities bare to a man you just met is not on your agenda for the night. 

His large hand touches your shoulder as he makes his way to the fire, confident you’ll join him. So warm and rough with callouses–the contact lasted but a moment but you can feel it still, like an invisible badge of affection. 

“Come on, Soldier, grab a stump! I already picked the slugs off for you.” Karlach laughs at your grimace. 

“Thanks,” you walk over to the offered seat. “I’ve had enough slimy things for a lifetime.”

A chorus of agreement and various stages of grief crosses the face of each companion as you join them around the fire, a part of the pack for once. As much as you begrudge Halsin for pulling you out of your comfort zone, you never spend another night eating alone, and your heart is all the fuller for it. 

The battle for the grove was hard won, and the celebration that followed was a well-needed respite for everyone. Surrounded by friends, plenty of food, and drink, you felt more alive than you had since it all began. Whatever shame you were harboring faded away with the alcohol settling into your rosy cheeks, and you sought out the man you’ve been pining for. 

Weeks of hard living have left you as lightweight as Halsin claims to be, but the confidence to mingle in his company is a welcome boon. Oh, to see him tipsy–better still if you are the first person he sees. Is he handsy in his affections, or reserved, you wonder? 

But what does he mean by calling you resourceful? 

You’ll have to ponder its meaning after some sobering sleep. Nothing could sway your mood tonight. He may have turned you down, but he was surely flirting with you. Even with the short time you’ve known him, you know he is not the kind to lead anyone on. 

Enjoyable. A night with you would be enjoyable; the thought has you grinning for the rest of the celebration, and biting your lip later, when you’re alone in your tent with roaming, lusty hands.

You’re able to find suitable food, but with life’s ever-increasing hardships, it continues to take a toll on your body. Hiking is not as hard as it once was, though, and you are thankful for it. With a body such as yours, it would take a considerable amount of time before you’d be deemed ‘thin’, but the loss of weight is undeniable. 

Your clothes are loose, for one, and the little armor you have shifts uncomfortably, always needing adjusting. The others have started noticing as well. 

Karlach gave you a, “Lookin’ good, soldier!” the other night and you never wished to cast an invisibility spell so much as in that moment.

This slightly-slimmer body should make you happy, but the success is tainted in your mind. It’s not as if you chose to lose weight, to starve, to walk endlessly every damned day. What happens when– if-- you can live a normal life after this? The same mistakes will surely be made as before, and you’ll go right back to the size you so hate. No lesson has been learned here, not in regards to food. 

Even if you do somehow lose all this weight, you still will not be pleased with yourself. Stretch marks and loose skin, you could never look the way you want to. 

The frustration grinds your spirit down, but no one notices. Hells, you hardly notice. The Shadowlands dampen the mood of everyone, infecting the camp even without touching it. 

Fighting has never been easy for you, and you’ve managed to hold your ground so far. But every person’s luck runs out sometime, you suppose. One awkward move and you get a knife in your side. The armor should have protected you–would have–if only it fit you better. 

Halsin gathers you in his arms, carrying you despite your weight. A mad rush back to the Last Light inn saves your life. As you’re placed in a healing sleep, you hear echoes of Halsin’s soothing voice. You can never make out the words, but they calm your turbulent mind, keeping the nightmares at bay. 

When you wake, you are mostly healed. The skin is healed, though a scar remains, and the pain is manageable while lying still in bed. Halsin greets you with warmth and a small amount of haste.

It seems, while you slept, Halsin talked to both a tailor and a leather-worker on your behalf. What is more surprising is the light scolding you receive.

“You should have spoken up, we cannot afford such a loss in these dire times.”

“And we can afford this?” You doubt, knowing how much new, custom armor costs. 

One stern look from Halsin, and you concede.

Everyone pooled their gold together to buy you fitted clothing and armor, a gesture that means the world to you. What have you done to deserve such kind friends? Just as you took on their troubles, they’re taking on yours without a second thought. 

There is one part of their gesture that gives you pause. They need your measurements, and you need to stand for it. With abdomen muscles still healing, you require Halsin’s help to get out of bed, leaning heavily against him. 

So close to him, you breathe in his scent, take in his warmth, and relish the contact. It’s almost enough to distract you from the embarrassment of having a stranger shimmy a measuring tape around your body. You hide your discomfort as best you can, but Halsin notices.

He always does. 

He must have read it as pain, because he hastens the person along so you can lay down and rest again. Another unsaid deed that shows his care for you, soothing the stinging humiliation. 

“Let me call the healers over, I am sorry for disturbing your rest.”

You grab his hand, stilling his movements. “Wait, please.”

“What troubles you, friend?”

You shake your head. “Thank you. For carrying me back and for the clothing. Words cannot describe how grateful I am.” 

Halsin takes your hand in his gently, “This fight would not be the same without you by my side.”

You blink away a rogue tear as Halsin brings forth a healer, and drift into a deep, healing sleep with a smile on your face. 

When you wake, you’re fully restored, and your new armor and clothes are atop the bedside table. The sight should fill you with excitement, but all you feel is dread.

What if they don’t fit you? What if they’re too small?

Retreating to a corner with a privacy curtain, you hesitantly try them on, thankful that your party isn’t here. To your surprise and great relief, they all fit–as they say–like a glove. The leather armor comes with a learning curve with all the straps and strings, but after a few mistakes, you figure it out.

It’s genius, really. With overlapping leather and lacing on the side, up the arms, and down your legs, its size is fully adjustable. Up to a point, of course, but extremely useful for the days to come. You’ll probably lose more weight as the journey is far from over, and now you have armor that can account for size changes in either direction!

You choke back tears of happiness, never once having known the feel of well-fitting clothes until now. Everything has been uncomfortable in some way or another, always with minor inconveniences, and never once did they look good. 

In these clothes, it doesn’t matter how you look. You feel good in them, and for once in your life, that is all that matters. A burden has been lifted from your shoulders whose weight you never noticed before now. 

Could you truly be comfortable within this body of yours?

Later, when they all come back to the inn after adventuring, the party makes you spin for them so they can get a good look at your new attire, and although shy, your smile is brighter than it has ever been. 

Saving Thaniel is no easy task, and you probably have a few more gray hairs after that battle. With Halsin’s life at stake if you fail, you fight tooth and nail to protect the portal. 

Even though it is not enough to lift the curse, Halsin’s eyes soften whenever he looks upon you, and that is all the reward you need. 

Your love does not end with Halsin; each party member has wormed their way into your heart. So when Shadowheart embarks on her quest with you at her side, you trust her to make the right choice. 

Dame Aylin is truly something to behold. The daughter of a goddess, and a god in her own right. To be reunited with her love after so many years is a love story of the ages. You’re lucky to bear witness to it, although it tugs at the heartstrings. 

The longing for a love such as theirs does not linger on your mind, not with the battle for Moonrise Towers looming overhead. 

Is this the end? Will you be free to live your life once more? The end does not feel as near as you are led to believe. Not all of the pieces fit together yet, and the unknown scares you. 

As you suspected, Ketheric Thorm was just one head of the hydra. There is much more to be done, and the journey ahead weighs heavily on your shoulders. You try to focus on your triumphs; the Shadowcurse is lifted, the land can begin to heal, and Halsin promises to remain by your side. 

A heart full of joy can only do so much when you’re running on fumes, requiring a warm bed and a few days rest. Your friends help distract you from the wear and tear of the past few weeks, always bickering about this or that. Usually you stay out of it, but Halsin has other plans on the journey to Wyrm’s Crossing, it seems.

Freeing Thaniel, and moreso, the land, has earned you a special place by Halsin’s side. You did not expect that place to come with an honorary nickname. 

Two simple words. It, at first, fills you with a sense of kinship, but soon begins to wear on your mind. As much as you love the affection it implies, one of those words hasn’t pertained to you for a long time. 

You find him that night at camp, voice hesitant. “Halsin, can I ask you something?”

“What is it, little duck?” He greets you with a pleased smile. 

“Well, that’s what I need to talk about. Little duck.”

“Does it not please you?”

“No–it’s not that. It’s just,” you pause, crossing your arms as you take a deep, calming breath. “I’m not little.”

“Are you not?” he inquires with a hint of mirth. 

Confused eyes lift to find his hand hovering above your head, a silent judgment of your height. 

Your stoic facade breaks with a smile, then with laughter, and you nudge him with your shoulder playfully. 

“You got me there,” you surrender, grinning ear to ear. 

Halsin laughs with you, but retains a more serious composure. “As much as that pleases me, should I call you by another name?”

“Please don’t,” you answer swiftly, needing no arduous thought to decide. 

From then on, anytime he says those two words, it fills you with warmth. 

Reuniting with the refugees saved from the Shadowlands brings you joy, but not as much as a real bed and a roof over your head does. 

Freshly washed and bathed, you almost forgot what it’s like to be clean. The quest to save the city is as grave as ever, yet all you needed was some self care to feel ready to take on the Elder Brain. 

The nights in Elfsong Tavern are anything but quiet, and you feel Halsin’s attention grow with each night, like he’s working up to something.

Maybe it’s just hopeful thinking, but you feel the chemistry between the two of you. Laughter and conversation is always easy with him, and he’s been touching you more. 

Nothing serious; grazing your arm, wiping a smudge of dirt off your face, his hand lingering on your shoulder. The contact, although small, brightens your mood, and you begin to yearn for it every time he’s near, even if you still think romance is out of the question. 

It’s almost comedic, how wrong you are. 

Not a week passes before Halsin confesses his feelings for you; how he yearns to feel your skin against his in a romantic night under the stars. You barely hear his next words over your heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

His heart stirs for you, just as yours does for him. He seems so vulnerable, just now. Nervous, just as you would be in his shoes. You feel as though you are seeing a piece of him rarely shown, or perhaps you did not wish to see past the brawn. Your souls are of the same gentle nature, and just a rest away from uniting in bliss.

Fidgeting in your sheets, you try to calm your turbulent mind, but it is hopeless. Each shift calls attention to the throbbing in between your thighs, their thickness both a blessing and a curse. But your mind is still eager to race into dark territory. The night of your dreams is accompanied by your mountain of insecurities. 

You’ve been intimate with others before, but that was of a low time where you hid parts of yourself to please others. 

There will be no more of that. He will know you. All of you. Even if it means he does not want you after. 

With mind set, you find him in the clearing by the lake, his large hand upon the rough bark of a tree in silent communion. When turns to greet you, the relief and excitement in his eyes brightens the world around you both, and instills you with courage. 

All thoughts of revealing your most authentic self blow away with the breeze when Halsin relieves himself of his clothes. Standing proudly naked before you, he sweeps you up in his arms, his kiss as passionate and devouring as he promised, with roaming hands settling on your plump rear.

All of your insecurities come back to nag you all at once, and you break away from the kiss. “Wait, please.”

“What is it, my love?”

Crossing your arms, you begin to pace. The movement helps focus your thoughts, and you take a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m fat,” you begin with the simplest statement of your imagined deficiencies. “For most of my life now I’ve been various sizes of fat, and I’m probably always going to be fat. I don’t want to be. I didn’t choose it. I have stretch marks, flabby arms, back fat.”  

Your voice begins to shake as tears well in your eyes. “Yes, I’ve shrunk a bit these past few weeks, but it’s not enough! Not nearly enough. Because even if I do lose all this weight,” you pause, feeling the pressure build within–a truth so long known but never said aloud, ready to burst out of your chest whether you will it or not.

“I will still hate myself!” The first sob rips from your throat as the emotional dam is broken, shaking your entire being.

Halsin rushes to you, enveloping you in his embrace, cradling your head to his chest. 

“Beauty is not about size, little duck. Variety provides necessary balance in nature, and there is no shame in taking joy from its fruits. Your inner peace is what truly matters.”

Only now it occurs to you that he has also been judged for his size. Maybe not all negative, but that is not to say it did not have an ill-effect on his self-esteem and outward personality. 

After you stop shaking, he coaxes you to meet his gaze. Eyes red and puffy, you do as he wishes, taking in every beautiful detail of his face before settling on his eyes, as serene as the lake before you. 

“I love you as you are, stretch marks and all.” He strokes your face gently and then takes your hands in his. “Let me show you.”

Halsin guides you to the lake’s edge, and positions himself behind you, leaning both your bodies forward. The view is exquisite, but you know it is not what holds his attention. Cautious eyes follow the ripples of the water, slowly casting down until you see your reflection. 

Halsin smiles when you meet his mirrored gaze, wrapping his arms around your waist. The angle is unflattering, to say the least, but you are willing to try this for him. The heat off his bare skin is a comfort, but also a reminder that your clothes are what separates your skin from his. 

“If you are comfortable, I’d like you to undress. To look upon yourself as you do, and be comforted in my desire.”

Comfortable is not something that would describe you in this moment, but you feel ready to reveal yourself to him. Closing your eyes, you still your mind to the symphony of the world around you; crickets singing, a light breeze coming off the lake, and Halsin’s steady breathing as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. Heart fluttering in your chest, you take your shirt off with nervous hands. 

After helping you discard the fabric, he is instantly upon you, trailing kisses down the side of your face until he’s sucking at your neck. You melt into him, tilting your head to reveal more skin for him to worship with his soft lips. 

Rough fingers tickle at your waist with feather-light grazes, you giggle at the feeling and place your hands over his. Lacing your fingers in between his, you move with him as he explores your waist. 

Heat rushes to your core as you feel his cock twitch against your back. You grow impatient, moving his hands to hold your breasts. He moans into your neck, pulling you against him while gently squeezing. 

“More, please. I need to see all of you,” he pleads breathlessly in your ear, thumbs pulling down the hem of your bra. 

You pull away for only a second, the ambient temperature feels so cool compared to your combined heat. Gooseflesh prickles at your arms, and as you discard your bra, you can’t help but admire your form in the water below. Nipples hard from the cold air soon find shelter in Halsin’s large hands, and his heat blankets you in a blissful stupor once again. 

Lust pools in your mind, overpowering any insecurities still swirling within. Only thoughts of him remain, and you need no further instruction to take the next step. Your panties cling to your pants as you pull them down. Halsin provides an arm for you to balance while slipping them off, and you come face to face when you toss the unwanted clothing further onto land. 

You’d pounce on him, but he quickly turns you around to face the lake again with a playful chuckle.

“Almost, my love. Look how extraordinarily beautiful you are, just as nature intended.” 

There you are, indeed. There’s your belly that you’ve loathed, the fat thighs that have been your bane, your double chin that distracts you from your beautiful face. Yet, with him at your back, your perspective begins to change, and you can see this body as yourself instead of some ugly, fat thing.

Halsin trails one hand down your stomach, over your stretch marks, and cups the plush overhang, squishing slightly as he smooths his palm back up your body, feeling the entirety of your curves.

All of your fears dissipate with the irrevocable proof of his attraction digging into your back, and you turn to face him. This time, he allows you, his hands grabbing your ass greedily. You run your hands up his body, relishing the feel of his coarse hair covering his chest and stomach. He moans softly at your touch, but something else starts to happen. 

His eyes begin to glow as he backs away from you in haste. The transformation is something you have seen many times, but never did you see the emotion behind it.

There is nothing as flattering as a partner losing themselves so utterly in a shared moment. Changing back just as fast, he flashes you a sheepish grin. 

Halsin starts to speak, but your patience is at its limit, and you run up to him, pulling him down for a kiss before he can utter a single word. 

Having regained his confidence through your kiss, he leads you back to the tree he was initially at, kneeling at its base. He leads you down to him, laying you down on the softest grass you’ve ever felt. There is a fleeting taste of his passion-full lips as he kisses his way down to your breasts, taking his time to kiss each one before descending further. 

Halsin’s lips against your stomach tickle in a touch-starved way, adding coal to the fire raging inside your core. He slips his arms underneath your knees, bending and spreading your legs. Supporting himself on his elbows, he reaches around, parting your lips by pulling your flesh toward your belly button. 

The first soft kiss upon your exposed clit has you gasping for air, hands grabbing fistfuls of grass at your side. It was only the calm before the storm; a single taste of honey is not nearly enough to satiate the beast between your thighs, and he shows you no mercy. 

Tongue lapping at your cunt from entrance to throbbing bud, Halsin has you squirming under his touch. Just as you think his pleasure is at its peak, he suckles your clit.

Toe curling, back arching, you scream his name as you reach carnal heights you never thought possible.

You whine when he stops, but when you see his swollen cock twitching between his legs, you know exactly what he needs. He lets you push him back onto the grass, helping you straddle him with a steadying hand. Cock nestled perfectly between your folds, you nuzzle his nose with yours before he pulls you into a passionate kiss. The taste of you is intoxicating as you drink in his moans, slide your hips against him, obscenely slick.

Ever hungry for more, you explore his body with your mouth, hips never ceasing their slow but steady rock. Thick, muscled neck, tender for kissing. Pronounced pecks perfect for light, teasing bites. Sensitive nipples ripe for sucking. Veiny arms that your lips could kiss for days. The faded but still visible stretch marks around his shoulders that now hold a special place within your heart, and you kiss each one of them.

You worship him, mind and body just as he does with his burly hands ever present on your lust-driven body. His touch now bruising, he tries to push into you with each thrust, soft moans turning into desperate grunts.

He catches at your entrance, but you tilt your hips so he passes over your clit once again. You shiver at the feeling, and cannot help the laugh that accompanies the bliss.

Teasing Halsin is just so fucking hot.

With an animalistic growl, he rolls you onto your back, having had enough of your shenanigans. Your sounds of glee quickly turn lewd as his cock finally finds purchase, stretching you delightfully with his mighty girth. 

Even with a mind lost to passion, he takes your comfort into account, pushing in slowly to let you adjust. His hungry mouth kisses your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, until your canting, impatient hips break the last thread of his self control.

Burying his nose in your hair, one hand holding your breast, hips pumping, he makes love to you under the stars. You wrap your arms around him, holding onto his back to keep from being pushed away from the force of his hips. Your voices are a sweet, rhythmic chorus to nature as you feel a fluttering grow in your core. Halsin relinquishes his grip on your breast, hooking his hand underneath one of your knees to spread you further.

He reaches new heights within you, and you feel his cock harden more than you thought possible, readying to fill you with the nature’s bounty you’ve been craving. Your hands slip down to his ass, needing all of him inside you.

Your wants ever his desire, he buries his cock inside you and ruts, massaging the bundle of nerves deep within. Your fingers cling to him, leaving red lines down back unintentionally as the chord within finally snaps. Walls fluttering around him before clenching down, the waves of pleasure overtake you both, and he is a helpless passenger in its wake. He says your name like a prayer as his hips stutter in their rhythm. 

Cradling him close as you feel his cock pulse, you whisper in his ear, “I love you, Halsin.”

That mystical night under the stars with Halsin was legendary. Its memory, as well as the man himself, helps you through the rest of your quest, picking you up when you are down. All you need to do is close your eyes, and you’re right back in that clearing by the lake with him beside you.

You do not know if you would have gotten through it all without him. By the time you defeat the Netherbrain, you are the thinnest you’ve been since childhood, and also the most sickly. Stronger muscles and better food is not enough in the face of true exhaustion, and it shows in your gaunt face. 

The celebration with Halsin that night is sweet and gentle, containing all the relief of a battle hard won. You cannot help the tears that fall from your eyes as you reach your climaxes together.

It all feels like a dream. How could you have made it through all that alive and relatively well? With him at your side? A man as loving as he is large, he still does not impose anything on you. Talking as if there could be a chance you wouldn’t be going with him to resettle Moonrise Towers. 

You depart in the morning with nine wagons full of kids of various ages, all without families or homes, and your bear at your side. 

The savior of Baldur’s Gate is a bit rich for your liking, but it does give you a certain air of respect when you have to give them time-outs.

Halsin calls them all his ducklings, and it is so very fitting with how they follow him around from dawn till dusk. 

When you receive a letter with shaky lettering inviting you to the place where it all began, you’re more than happy to reunite with everyone. The time without doom hanging over your heads has certainly made you both plump and happy. You still struggle with body image issues, but you feel comfortable in your skin more often than not. A battle that is waning in your favor, with once barren fields blooming with slow acceptance.

Your appetite for life has always been large. Giant partner, a heap of kids to call your own, and enough tall tales to last them well into adulthood; you want for nothing in the years to come. 

With Halsin you build a loving home–an ending you never thought you deserved. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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@thegirlsmorgue @confused--polarity @waterm3i0n @violet-starlings-blog @thunderdownunder

@ashrio20

[biohazardousbunnywrites]

lara croft x fat!afab!reader

I Said Sit

"Thats the point, love. I want you to crush me, cut off my breathing, please baby, let me make you feel good, sit. down." she grabs your hips trying to get you to relax, so she can eat you out like the starved woman she is after coming back from a grueling mission. "but-" "I. said. sit" and you finally do.

warnings: facesitting, reader is self conscious, smut, oral

summary: Lara's been really into the idea of facesitting recently, however she's not the one who wants to do the sitting. youre concerned about crushing her, she doesn't care.

you dont know whats gotten into your girlfriend Lara recently, but she's been talking non stop about you sitting on her face. you would but you felt so self conscious about your weight. you always did in reference to her.

you'll never understand how someone like Lara ended up with someone like you, much less how she absolutely worshipped your body.

you were her most precious treasure and she just wanted to worship you the way the thought you deserved.

"please baby, just sit on my face one time and ill let it go" she begged again pouting up at you from her spot laying on your thighs. she had just gotten home from a particularly grueling expedition/mission dealing with trinity. all she wanted to was to lie back and have a delicious snack and what more delicious than her sexy partner. the only problem is well you didnt feel like you were light enough. lara is so fit and strong and you were the last person anyone would imagine her with some even accusing her of a fetish which was not the case. she loved you for you. your laugh. your jokes. your intelligence. she loved all of you. she just wanted to show you that.

"youre not gonna crush me i promise if i die itll be worth it, please sit on my face, i need it" she whined pouting still. you laughed. "i dont know Lara, im just a little nervous" you wanted to do this for her. "ill hold your hand" she bargained. you laughed harder. she was sweet. a dork, but sweet.

"ok, we can do it just let go slow" you finally relented smiling at her cheer of victory.

she pulled you up to your shared room, slowly working you up to where you currently sit, naked hovering over her face much to her dismay as your glistening pussy is just out of reach. "sit love, i want to taste you" she whined pulling on your hips. "but i dont wanna crush you Lara, im-"

"Thats the point, love. I want you to crush me, cut off my breathing, please baby, let me make you feel good, sit. down." she grabs your hips trying to get you to relax, so she can eat you out like the starved woman she is after coming back from a grueling mission. "but-" "I. said. sit" and you finally do.

you yelp as she attacks your pussy with licks, and sucks on your clit. you moan out at the feeling, so overwhelmingly delicious. Lara moans into you at your taste. shes in heaven that you finally let her do this.

she circles your clit with her tongue before sucking it into her mouth, your taste drives her wild. she lets go before sliding her tongue through your folds to tease at your entrance, oh she is in heaven right now as the taste and smell of you clouds her senses.

you buck your hips slightly as Lara slips a finger into your hole, you blush at the noises being produced from your ravenous girlfriend. she slurps at your slick pussy for what feels like hours, you look down and catch her eyes staring up at you twinkling in delight, pupils blown wide with lust. you cum with a yell, gripping the headboard and shaking trying not to move wildly on top your girlfriend's face. she cleans you up gently before you lift yourself off of her face, she whines "i was enjoying that" she states her mouth and chin glistening with your slick.

"i was worried" you say kneeling beside her, "im glad we did that" she smiles kissing you. "im glad you trusted me enough to do that, perhaps you'll do it again soon, right now, please" she says trying to get you back on her face, you laugh as you shake your head, "maybe another day, im so sensitive now" you say. she hums, "but i like you sensitive" she slides her hand up your thigh, "you're insatiable" you say as she pushes you down for round 2.

much to her joy you do end up sitting on her face again in the future.

an: took me awhile to write bc i didnt know how to go about it hope you enjoyed it tho 💚 love lara croft

[punksnotdeadbutiam]

Yall I need someone to write (or maybe this is actually me just word vomiting a draft to Tumblr,,,) a Jack Abbot x fbi!profiler!reader,,,,, I’ve been watching criminal minds lately and can’t stop imaging a Spencer Reid type reader— maybe she has two phds (maybe just one), probably psychology or maybe sociology? I always imagine this reader as kinda shy but fierce (in my head she’s plus sized because I am but you can disregard that fact if you want to) when it comes to loving the people around her and doing her best to do good at her job (since people’s lives depend on her and the bau). Maybe that’s how she’s in the hospital (puts herself in danger to save a team member or kid maybe)— but I kinda don’t want it to be a meet cute. Maybe Robby knows her (idk maybe their families are friends or something) so when she comes into the ER with a gunshot wound Robby’s freaked out and Jack obviously is curious as to why he’s so invested in this particular patient. Maybe while getting wheeled in reader if yelling for someone to call her unit chief (Hotch, if your doing the criminal minds crossover) cause she discovered somebody about the unsub (could do the classic trope of “he has a partner!!”) Robby goes to her immediately and Jack follows to work on her. I just imagine eventually when she’s in surgery or something Robby tells some stories of the insane situations readers been in and how many people her team help. Jack is kinda enthralled by her from the get go (I imagine her making inappropriate jokes after getting the info to Hotch, like “holy fuck if I die I’m totally gonna haunt Robby and the team and annoy the shit out of them”) I think this type of silly but shy/really competent and danger prone person would seriously catch Jacks attention.

[motzglorp]

When it rains, it pours - Part 2 (smut with a hint of feelings)

Part 1

Bucky Barnes x fat!reader

CW: smut, reader has a vagina, sub!Buck, dom!reader, afab!reader, 18+, MDNI, established relationship, fat reader, breeding kink, eating pussy, soft domme reader, Bucky loves your new bra.

I really recommend to read the first part just for the vibe.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"I'm drippin'"

You say that with your sweet, innocent smile, as if you don't even know what you just said.

"Not yet"

You look confused, then your eyes widen in realisation. "James Buchannen Barnes, is that a way to greet your very wet and helpless girlfriend, who just walked through a monsoon to be by your side?" You chide him, making him only grin wider.

He pulls you inside his suite, not even stopping for a kiss as he pushes you to the bathroom, under the shower.

"Hmm, wet you say... Completely soaked probably. Let me help you, doll. Warm you up..." he growls and then he kisses you, the way you forget what you were saying. He only breaks the kiss to remove his hoodie and sweatpants. "Why don't I help you out of these clothes. And then we take a nice shower, yes?"

You nod, eagerly, starting to peel out of your shirt, when he pushes your hands aside. "Let me..." His breath against your neck, as he slowly shoves a warm hand under the fabric. Not even pretending to hurry. "Hmm, sticky... Should put in more effort..."

Then he drops to his knees, kissing your belly through your clingy shirt, playing with the hem, nosing it up, so he can taste the rain on your skin. While his hands grope your ass, holding you close.

"So cold, sweet thing... Let me warm you up.." Nose burrowing into your soft middle, biting and licking at your rolls. It never fails to rile you up, the way he touches you, your body, your plump thighs, your peach ass, your fat belly. Things that others shamed you for, he cherished in a way you never dreamed of.

You grab his hair, making him look up to you. You know that look. You know what he wants, what he needs.

"You want to be good for me? Show me." you purr, shifting your stance just a little bit. "Help me out of these... no hands."

Oh he loves that. Loves the almost painful grip on his hair, loves how you loom over him, not just accepting but demanding his devotion. He is so eager to follow your command, expertly opening the button of your jeans, pulling down the zipper. Almost whines as you spill out of it, kissing the angry red marks on your skin where the fabric had cut into it.

And you love seeing him work for it, huffing and grunting as he works the wet pants down your thighs, rubbing cheeks and lips over the uncovered skin. You let him shove his face into your crotch, but don't open for him. You even giggle at his desperate licks, trying to reach your folds, but your fat thighs are closed.

"Not yet, babe. You did so good with my jeans, but I am still wearing a shirt. Up now."

And he obeys, even more enthusiastically, pulling your shirt off with his teeth. And when he finally gets a look at you, he freezes, groans. your bra was not very chaste before, but now it is sheer, see through, almost like lace paint on your tits.

"Fuck. Doll, please, let me touch you. I need to feel you in this. I'll do whatever."

You love when he begs. When all he wants is to make you feel good, when he is begging you to let him worship you.

"Hmm, whatever, yeah? So eager. But you forgot something, didn't you?" That flicker in his eyes, down again, where your tiny underwear was swallowed by your flesh.

"On your knees. Teeth and lips. You will not use your tongue, you will not touch my clit, you will not even try to feel me up. Understood?" As much as you want to sit on his face and let him eat you out until morning, it is a completely different thrill to see him fight between want and need. And then he is kneeling again, hand behind his back, attentive and focused. "Ready to comply"

That sly fucker, of course he would try to get to you. Demonstrating his trust in you, using words that are so connected to pain and trauma but reclaiming them. For you. For both of you. You almost want to go soft, let him have his way with you. But the words are a signal as well.

"Such a good boy. You have one minute, don't let it drop." He doesn't need a minute. He is careful and precise, tugging down the fabric until you can step out of it, panting as he leans down enough to make it easy for you, but not touching the floor tiles and never letting the lace drop. You take a step back to take him in, kneeling naked before you. So eager, cock heavy and swollen, chest heaving, yet his lips are firmly holding onto your panties, looking up to you with lust blown eyes.

"Fuck, you are so pretty, doing so good for. All you want is to make me happy, yes? Make me feel good? Even if I won't touch you, right?" The needy sound, muffled through his closed lips is your answer. "Such a good boy... Get up. I think you have earned a little reward. But first ." You take your slip, notice how he chases the taste of your juices from it. His shuddered breath when you reach for his cock and tie the lace around it. "Just in case you make a mess..." You whisper in his ear, pressing your body against his for a moment, stroking his length through the slip just once. You feel his jaw clenching, he wants you so bad, barely holding on.

"You need a moment to cool down, baby? Or do you think you can handle your reward without spilling?"

You step pack again, not even trying to hide the smug grin, as he desperately leans into you for a moment, his eyes flickering between your perfectly wrapped breasts and the spot where your thighs and belly hide your cunt. As much as you want to just ride his ridiculous beautiful face, seeing him submitting to you is a special kind of thrill.

"Give me a colour, love" you ask, checking in for him as much as for you.

"Fucking green." Bucky growls, he wants to touch you, feel you, breathe you, drink you. Fall apart for you, let you use him for your pleasure, let you hold him in this safe space where he doesn't have to think or do, where he can just be.

"Thank you. Safeword?"

"Redwing"

"Very good. I promise, this is the last decision, for you tonight. You can take a break and wait on the bad for me, until I am done in the shower. You will not touch yourself and just wait for me, no matter what you hear or see." He knows you will absolutely finger yourself in the shower, and you will make sure he hears everything.

"Or you can help me, wash me from head to toe, but you are not allowed to come without my permission. You may play with my tits, but not with my pussy."

You already know what it's going to be tonight, Bucky is already fixed on your breasts, like putting his hands on them is the only thing keeping him alive.

"Shower." Voice hoarse from desire.

"Thank you, sweet boy. Come on then, you know what to do." you turn around and finally turn on the water, despite your heat in your belly, your skin is still cold from the rain and you really need to warm up. Bucky's hot body behind you helps a lot with that, his hands finally on you.

"Thank you" he murmures, daring to place kisses behind your ear, along your neck and shoulder. And you lean against him, as his metal hand cups your tit, squeeze it, rubbing a finger over your nipple.

"Talk to me, baby, let me hear."

Bucky loves singing your praises. "So beautiful... Love to see the way the lace leaves marks on your tits. Love how they almost spill out, feels like I'm freeing them. Want to do so much more.. want to bind them with ropes, suck on them. Want to make you come just playing with them. Wonder if they get bigger when you're pregnant."

Shit, that almost makes you lose it. The way he keeps kneading and teasing your soft flesh, the friction of lace and metal hitting the sweet spot between pain and pleasure. "Would you like that, baby? Fill me with your seed until it takes, make me even bigger with your child? I would be so big and heavy, depending on your help."

Two can play this game and you grin at his choked moan, as you feel his wrapped cock against your ass.

"Doll, you're killing me here.."

"Not today... Come on, get me out of this bra, clean me up and take me to bed"

That's all the encouragement he needs, still he is not rushing it. Pressing against your softness, as he washes you with a net sponge, lathering your hair first with shampoo, then conditioner, kisses following every clean spot until you feel warm, clean and too desperate to wait any longer.

"Bed, now" you command and he follows, toweling both of you off, just enough to get comfortable, carrying you to the bedroom.

The moment he lets you down, you push him onto the mattress on his back, immediately crawling over him.

"Need your pretty filthy mouth on me. Gonna ride you until I come. Don't even think of touching yourself"

His look is priceless, so hungry and yet full of wonder. As if he can't believe you are real and he gets to eat your fat pussy whenever you want. (Not whenever he wants, he always wants you, whenever you feel like it, he will drop everything and kneel between your thighs.)

•°•°•°•°•

Oops, didn't mean to post it just yet, but might as well leave it now and rather make a part 3. Enjoy.

Also feel free to comment, I love reading what you think