#Women Plus Size Belts

[unconventiononthelawofthesea]

a lot of people, regardless of gender or sexuality or weight or anything, size down and wear clothes that don't fit them so they can say they're a smaller size. don't do that! you will look and feel better in clothes that fit you!

[addisonroad]

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[cutelycovered]

Trendy Plus Size Clothing for Women's Evolution: Embracing Style and Confidence

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[wheresarizona]

Columba 

summary: It isn’t until you’re in his home that you learn it’s General Marcus Acacius who’s summoned you for your services—you’re not sure why he did, when the other courtesans standing beside you, hoping to be chosen by him, have bodies that look nothing like yours.

pairing: Marcus Acacius/Plus Size f!reader (Courtesan)

rating: E (18+!! This is smut. No y/n, explicit smut, plus size reader, courtesan reader, age gap (reader is of legal age in today’s standards), takes place pre-Gladiator 2, dommy Marcus Acacius (loves giving orders), he’s a tiny bit possessive, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, rough sex, backshots, woman on top, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, breast worship, hair pulling (m receiving), slight breeding kink, (1) pussy slap, dirty talk, spanking, spit mention, some biting, with hair like that he wants it pulled, some sweetness at the end) 

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: I took one look at Marcus’ hair and immediately thought, that guy likes his hair pulled. I also decided that since he spends weeks to months with a bunch of men at a time, when he comes home, he really appreciates a curvy woman. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything for him until I saw the movie, but the trailer got me. This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

It was the marble bust atop a pedestal that revealed whose home you were in. The opulence of the domus’ atrium, with its four tall marble columns surrounding the impluvium's shallow, sunken pool in the middle of the room and the compluvium’s opening in the ceiling above it, allowing the moon’s light to filter in, told you whoever lived here had notoriety—then you saw the face carved out of stone, recognizing the curls and strong nose you'd only ever seen as he was paraded past you down the street in honor of his latest victory, and you knew.

General Marcus Acacius is a man feared by many for his ferocity and skills in battle. It's been said Mars, the God of War, blessed his birth, while others believe his bloodline is descended from the God himself. What you know to be true is he's a gifted General that the Emperors and Gods have smiled upon, and in his presence, an intimidating figure you didn't dare look at unless you were addressed.

There are four women standing to your right, all of you younger than him, naked, and courtesans of the highest standard—well-educated and well-versed in politics along with the pleasures of the body—and highly sought out by society's elite. 

Marcus is at the opposite end, silently making his way down the line with what you can only assume is a scrutinizing eye, and you fear there's been a mistake that you're here—the other courtesans are all built similarly with small breasts, flattened stomachs and thinner waists than yours, whereas you’re curvier, and have more meat on your bones, with your bigger chest, soft noticeable belly, and grabbable hips. Clearly, he requested a particular type of woman, and it doesn't appear you're it. Staring down at the tiled floor seems better than seeing the disappointment on his face when he gets to you. 

His sandaled feet come into view as he stands before you, and you can feel his eyes roaming over your bare body—golden snake bracelets coil around each of your upper arms, and at the unexpected gentle touch of his fingertips to one, you flinch. 

"Do I frighten you?" His voice is a low, deep rasp that shivers down your spine. 

"No, Sir," you answer.

His thumb strokes over the snake's head and along its body. "Why do you flinch?" 

Raising your head, you see he’s wearing a white tunic with a gold pattern lining around his neck, down his arms, and along the hem, a belt securing it at his waist; golden cuffs covered his wrists. You’re met with dark eyes, a furrow crinkling between his eyebrows—his brown hair with a kiss of gray, curls like waves on his head, his facial hair dotted with a few silvery strands. It takes you a second to answer his question because the glimpses of him you caught during victory parades and the marble bust didn't prepare you for his beauty. 

Mars and Venus have bestowed their blessings upon him. 

“My apologies, Sir,” you finally reply. “It was simply surprise at being graced by your touch.” His expression is difficult to read, so you continue speaking, “I’ve heard of your prowess in battle that inspires songs and how your enemies tremble before you, but I do not believe I have reason to fear you—unless that is something you wish. Do you wish for me to be frightened of you?” 

Some men liked it if you acted afraid of them to feel powerful. Some men, usually the big, tough ones, liked to bury their faces in your bosom while you held them. The slight show of relief on Marcus’ face when you said you had no reason to fear him made you suspect he’d be in the latter category. 

“No.” His eyes are locked onto yours. “I do not need another to fear me. I wish for you to want my touch.” 

“I wish for more than your touch,” you reply. “I wish to feel your lips on mine and your weight on top of me, I wish to feel your cock inside me and to hear the sounds you make when you peak, and I do wish for your touch; I wish to feel your hands claim my body as yours.” 

His gaze turns to one of desire, and it makes you smile. 

"You," he says. "Stay. The rest of you,” he announces, keeping his eyes on yours, “leave us.”

The invitation the messenger brought to your home the day prior did not state who requested your services; it simply said the person was a public figure, and the woman picked would be paid handsomely.

The servants, who stood as still as statues against a wall, scurried to assist each of the other women with redressing.

"Come," he orders, offering you a hand you accept. He leads you to a room you realize is his personal quarters when you spot his armor in a corner, Medusa's golden head on the cuirass shining in the candlelight—she wards off evil and offers protection. There's a bed against the wall opposite the door, and he lets go of your hand, slipping off his sandals by the doorway before walking over to a thin table laden with a jug, cups, and a bowl of berries and grapes. 

"Care for some wine?" he asks without looking at you while pouring himself a cup. 

His body is tense, and you’re assuming you’re here to help him relax—he arrived home only days ago from war, and you got a chance to see him rolling down the street on a chariot as he waved to the cheering masses. It would make sense that he could use somebody with your expertise to get him to unwind. 

“No, thank you, Sir,” you answer, and he faces you again, taking a drink. “It’s a great honor that you chose me, and I do not wish to forget a single moment.” 

His cup lowers, and you're surprised to find he’s wearing a little smile. He twists to set his wine down next to the jug, and removes the cuffs from his wrists, setting them onto the table then his eyes are on yours. 

"Marcus," he says, and it only takes a few strides to have him in front of you again. 

"I'm sorry?" you ask.

His attention moves to your body, and he’s not looking upon you like an object or something he’s just purchased as most men do; his gaze is appreciative, the same kind of look you could imagine was on his face when he stared at art that pleased him. Your figure isn’t the ideal for most Roman women—your hips are too wide, your breasts are too large, your ass is too big, your thighs are too thick, and your stomach is too noticeable—yet, there are many men who sought you out and paid well for your time, and it seems the General is one of them. 

"My name." He walks around you, his fingers sliding along your upper back from shoulder to shoulder. “Call me Marcus. I want you to be familiar with how my name tastes on your tongue.” 

The touch and his words cause your nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"Marcus,” you say. 

He’s in front of you again, his darkened eyes on yours. His big hands grip your waist, pulling you into him, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, feeling him inhale deeply. “Gods, you’re the best thing I’ve smelled in months.” The words are said against your flesh. “Like a meadow of flowers in Spring, and I fail to remember the last time I felt such softness.” He squeezes the fleshy handles at your hips and goes lower to grab handfuls of your ass, then runs his hands up your back. “Upon hearing your description,” he says, “I knew you’d be perfect, but what I imagined has no comparison to seeing your beauty with my own eyes.” His admission catches you off guard as it sounds as though he always intended to pick you from the line of women. It’s curious that he even invited the others if his mind had been set beforehand. He straightens, meeting your gaze. “Take off my clothes.” 

There's no need to reply; you just do as he ordered, getting his belt undone, the leather falling to the floor, then pulling his tunic over his head, it meeting the same fate as his belt. 

He’s completely nude, standing at his full height before you. 

You expected the scars etched all over his body, the evidence that he'd lay down his life for Rome without hesitation. There's a long, jagged one across his right pec, silvered with age, that has you forgetting yourself and softly pressing your fingertips to it.

He snatches your smaller hand, pulling it away from his marred skin. 

"My apologies," you quickly say, bowing your head in submission. "I shouldn't have touched you without permission." 

"You may touch me." Once again, he surprises you by putting the flat of your palm against the scar, his other hand grabbing your chin to lift your face. 

From his reaction to your fingers on him, you think he hasn’t been with a woman in quite some time, and you hope you can make up for all the nights he spent alone. 

It seems he's done with the pleasantries when his lips crush into yours. It's all of the encouragement you need, kissing him back while rubbing your palms up his broad chest, feeling his warmth. You snake a hand down his stomach through the trail of hair low on his belly to take his half-hard cock into your hand—he groans and twitches in your hold.

He truly has the Gods' favor—a talented General, handsome and well-endowed. 

With his hands on your waist, he walks you backward to the bed, laying you on the mattress. He's on top of you, deepening the kiss with his tongue pressing into your mouth, his hand palming your tit, making you wet with arousal and your body heat. 

It's fascinating how he's defying all of your expectations. The men who seek you out after spending months fighting are often rough and brutish, using you however they want to release their tension. There's never kissing or offers of drink; it's orders to suck their cocks, or to get on the bed in their desired position—and here's Marcus kissing down your body, along the skin of your neck to your chest. Most of his weight is on his knees between your legs while bending forward over you, and the only word you can think of to describe it is he's worshipping your breasts. He has them in his hands, moving from one to the other, licking, sucking, and nibbling on your nipples and soft skin, the sensations making your pussy weep with need. 

“Gods, Marcus,” you moan. He has you squirming with how good it feels, your fingers pushing into his curls. He takes a pebbled bud between his teeth and gently tugs. “Oh,” you gasp, your hands tightening in the tousled waves on his head.

He releases your nipple. “Harder,” he rasps, then flicks his tongue against your stiff peak, and you do as requested, pulling his hair harder. A loud groan rumbles from his chest as he continues laving at your tits, skimming his hand down your stomach, your skin tingling under his fingertips, until he’s sliding two fingers through your wet slit. You tighten your hold on his head, your toes curling when he starts rubbing your clit, and the realization hits that he intends for you to have just as much enjoyment as him. 

"Marcus," you whine.

He’s one of those men who has you praying that he’ll wish for your company again, and you wouldn’t even make him pay if you got another chance to warm his bed. 

The push of his thick digit into your pussy makes your breath hitch at the slight stretch, his thumb pressing to your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving side to side—you know he’s going to make you come, and you silently thank the Gods.

His finger is pushing in and out of you, his thumb continuing its movements, and he lifts his face to look you in the eyes, his own are so black there’s hardly a sliver of brown remaining. "Come for me," he commands, slipping a second digit inside you—you’re so wet you can hear the slick slide of his fingers pumping into you. The muscles in your belly are tightening, and the fire in your core is building. "Come for me, sweet girl." His head dips to lightly bite your nipple before soothing it with his tongue. "Once you come, I'll do as you wish and sheath my cock into this perfect cunt." 

The hot heat of his mouth envelops your pebbled bud, and he sucks—it's your undoing; your eyes close as you fall over the edge, coming with a moan of his name. His digits and mouth continue to extend your ecstasy while your chest heaves with labored breaths and your heart pounds. 

He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, his hand sliding from your pussy, up your stomach, leaving a trail of your release on your skin. His voice deepens, “You’ve done well for me, and I keep my word—turn over.” 

He helps you to roll onto your front, and you get up onto your hands and knees—a familiar position. He takes a moment to admire you in front of him, his palms feeling the thickness of your thighs and hips. His fingers dig into your plump asscheeks as he spreads them and dips his head, hearing and feeling him spit between them, the hot saliva dripping from your asshole down to your opening. He shuffles up behind you, sliding his cock through the wetness of your come and his spit to lubricate himself, then notches it at your entrance—you both moan as he slowly starts feeding himself into you. 

Gods, he’s big. 

There’s a slight burn with how he’s stretching you, your inner walls having to accommodate his ample girth, and once he’s pressed all the way to the root inside you, a breath leaves you that you hadn't realized you'd been holding in. 

He has a tight grip on your waist and pulls out almost all the way, immediately pushing back into you hard enough there's a clap when his hips hit your ass. This was expected, Marcus setting up a rhythm that punches the air from your lungs each time he thrusts forward—he’s working out what he doesn’t wish to feel, and with how slippery it is between your legs, he's moving easily, and the brutal pace feels amazing. 

Many times, you’ve had to fake your enjoyment to make those employing you think they’re talented lovers—the majority are selfish in bed and care little about your comfort but want their egos stroked. Marcus, on the other hand, earned your favor when he took the time to ready you with his fingers and allowed you to climax. 

He's pounding into you, the collide of his body against yours making your asscheeks shake, and with how his cock is pressing into something truly divine, he’s also earned your screams of his name and whatever incoherent words are babbling from your mouth—he has you dizzy with pleasure, heat coiling in your belly, and there’s no doubting the Goddess of Beauty and Sex has given him her blessing. 

Sounds are spilling unbidden from your lips, Marcus loudly grunting with each stroke, the wet slap of skin hitting skin echoing in the room, and you look over your shoulder—the candlelight around the room shows the glisten of sweat on his golden skin. His head is thrown back, his eyes closed, and his jaw slack. Hair is sticking to his forehead, and a beautiful rosy flush has begun on his chest, rising up his neck to paint his cheeks. You can't think of another you've laid with who looked so breathtaking while taking their pleasure, and you could only imagine how glorious he’d look on the battlefield. You don't know what comes over you, reaching your hand back to touch his hip, and suddenly, he’s looking at you, his eyes glazed with lust. 

It’s as though he’s been in a trance, losing himself in your body, and now he’s come back to be in the moment with you. He falls forward, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of you, blanketing your back and slowing his pace. His chin is on your shoulder, and he bites the shell of your ear; all of his weight goes onto one arm to free up the other that roughly grabs your breast and plucks at your nipple.

“You take me so well,” he says into your ear, his cock continuing to slide in and out of you. “Your sweet little cunt will milk me dry, and then I’ll have you again and again after that to keep you full of my seed.” 

His words steal a moan from your lips. 

“Does that please you, my sweet girl?” he asks. “You wish for more of me? Has another ever fucked you so good?” He gets his hand between your legs to circle the pearl of your pleasure, and your jaw drops, eyes closing—he’s going to make you come again. “Answer me,” he growls, lightly slapping your clit, and you clench around him. 

It’s challenging to think, but you say, “No,” and push your ass back against him as he thrusts forward, fucking yourself on him to get closer and closer to your end. “I’ve never had such fortune.” 

“You do now—by morning, I’ll have you ruined for any other man, and your cunt won’t soon forget the shape of my cock.” 

He means every word that slips from his tongue, and it sets the fire in your belly ablaze. You’re holding yourself up on shaky limbs, the muscles in your stomach knotting up—you’re close.

“Marcus,” you moan. 

His warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks into it: “I love how my name sounds from your lips. I know you’re close. Give in so I can feel you ascend to the heavens.” 

His words, the fullness of his thick shaft moving in and out of you, and his fingers swirling around your sensitive bundle at the apex of your thighs has you shattering—stars burst behind your eyelids as white-hot pleasure erupts in your center, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough he slows to a stop, and groans in your ear.

You exhale panted breaths, your heart beating rapidly, and the blissful euphoria ripples through your body, slowly ebbing away. 

Somehow, you find your voice, "Allow me to ride you." 

He kisses your shoulder, his beard scratching against your bare skin. "You want to mount me?" he asks. 

"Yes."

"Then you shall." 

He pulls out of you, an achy groan leaving him as he lies beside you on his back, and you get up onto your knees. He draws your attention with how he’s splayed out on the mattress, his long legs slightly spread and arms crossed over his head. His cock is still hard, it shiny with your juices, and resting against his lower belly, cushioned by the tantalizing path of hair that led directly to it—and he’s looking up at you, his eyes dark with want that keep lowering to your bosom, and back up to your eye line, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, that you suddenly wish to bite. 

There’s the common knowledge about Marcus all of Rome is aware of—the family he comes from and the military achievements that have led to him being the victorious General the Gods have blessed the city with, and now you’re versed in his more private attributes—he likes his women to be sturdy with sizeable breasts, he enjoys the pleasurable pain of his hair pulled, he’s a generous lover, he prefers to be in control unless you can tempt him enough to hand over the reins. It’s quite tempting for him to lie back and watch your tits bounce as you ride him. 

Shuffling in place to face him, taking his hard length in hand—he didn’t ask, and you didn’t offer, yet you want to take care of him like he took care of you, so you scoot back enough that you can bend down at the waist, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock.

The sound of Marcus’ loud moan and the way his back arches as if it were the string of a bow shoots straight to your cunt—you can taste the mix of your essence and his arousal that’s steadily dribbling from the sensitive head that you lick and suckle; your hand easily stroking up and down the sheath of skin on his shaft. The muscles in his thighs and stomach have tensed like it’s taking everything in him to hold back and not fill your mouth with his come.

“Enough,” he grits the order through his teeth, and his palm lands on the side of your ass with a hard slap that echoes against the walls, the sharp sting getting a moan out of you—your head lifts off of him to see he’s scowling. “I’m not spilling down your throat,” he continues and smacks your ass again. “Ride me, or I’ll have you under me.” 

“Apologies, Marcus,” you reply demurely and sit up on your knees once more. Quickly, you move, throwing a leg over his waist to have your thick thighs hugging his hips. You rise, grabbing his cock, you press to your entrance, and you watch his face as you slowly start to impale yourself on him, relishing in how his mouth falls open and the tight grip he has on the meat of your thighs, his fingers digging into them hard enough it bordered on painful. 

The fullness is incredible when you sit flush against him, and you love how he fills you. Your palms find purchase on his broad chest, and you rise until only the tip of him remains inside of you, and you drop back down—the rhythm you set has you moving in his lap, up and down in quick succession, Marcus groaning, his eyes locked on the jiggle of your breasts. 

Sweat forms on your skin, feeling it on your forehead and a single drop sliding down your spine, your eyes closed as you focus, your moans stuttering each time you sink onto him. 

His hands are resting on your backside, rising and falling with you, his voice rough with pleasure, “That’s it, ride me, bounce on my cock.”

This isn’t about you, and though it feels good riding him, your goal is helping him achieve his own high, and you’re determined to do so—your hands leave him to press your tits together, and you gasp in surprise when he sits up and shoves his face into them. Your pace doesn’t waver, and you look at him to see he’s keeping himself up with an arm braced on the bed behind him, the other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, and you know he’s not going to last much longer. 

Your fingers slide into the unruly curls at the back of his head, and you yank them hard to make him look at you, Marcus hissing while his cock twitches inside you. In this position, you’re taller, and he gazes up to meet your eyes. 

“I want you to come,” you pant, continuing to fuck yourself on him. “I want to feel you flood my cunt with your seed.” The noise he makes sounds like a whine. “Then I want you to do it again, and again after that—I want you to fill me to the point I’m brimming with you, and you’re in me for days.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut as he groans out a long, drawn-out Fuck

With his beautiful neck on display, you duck your head and lick up the taut skin of his throat, wishing you could suck a mark into it to remind him of you for a while after you part ways. His free hand roughly grabs your chin to pull you close enough for him to slot his lips against yours, and you have to slow to a grind as he messily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. 

He breaks away to fall back onto the mattress, his fingers getting a tight grip on your ass, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you enough to start thrusting up into your soaked pussy rapidly—he’s grunting while baring his teeth to chase his high, and all you can do is press your palms to his chest for balance while keeping yourself raised enough for him to pound into you. 

The slick push and pull of him, moving in and out of you, has you chanting his name, and it sounds wet between your legs, hearing the clap of skin on skin of him plowing into you. Perspiration makes his tan flesh glint under the candle's light, his hair is a mess atop his head, and his expression is wild; it’s no surprise when his strokes get uneven and his eyes close. Marcus tugs your ass down to bury himself as far as possible in you as he gives in, coming with a guttural groan—you feel his cock jerk and the wet pulse as he paints your insides with spurts and spurts of his spend, wringing himself out until his body goes completely lax.

He pulls you forward to lie on top of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, and turns you both onto your sides. There’s a hiss that slips from his lips when he removes his softening length from your cunt, and you smile at Marcus sliding down the bed far enough for his face to nuzzle in your bosom while hugging you tight. Your fingers stroke through his sweat-damp curls, his hums of appreciation sounding like the purr of a cat. 

Minutes pass in silence as your breaths even out and your hearts slow. After some time, he says something you can’t make out.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” you reply. 

His head lifts, and he kisses under your chin. “Stay,” he says again. 

“I have no intention of leaving. I’m here until you send me away.” 

“And if I don’t wish to send you away?” 

His lips trail along your jaw. 

Your eyebrows pull together. “As I said, I’m here until you request my leave.” 

“And if I never request your leave?” 

He’s kissing your neck now, the question making your eyes round. “You intend for me to be your mistress?” 

It’s not uncommon for a courtesan to become one’s mistress. Some of you are from families of wealth and do this line of work for the powerful connections, while others are freedwomen who’ve worked their way up to earn their notoriety—either case, courtesans are respected and thought to make great mistresses. 

“That is all I can offer since I have no plans to marry,” he answers. “You can stay here with or without me when I’m ordered away, and whatever is left of my salary and spoils of war after the household debts are paid, you may keep.”

He makes you frown. 

“Why me?”

Marcus gets his arm out from under you and scoots up the mattress to look you in the eyes. 

“You’re everything I desire in a woman with your beauty and intellect, and you can sate my needs in bed—you’re perfect, and I want you all to myself. I do not wish to share you with anyone else.”

It’s in this moment you realize you’re the one in control here—you don’t need him, you’re self-sufficient, and there are many who’d eagerly take his place, but your looks are rare in your profession, and he needs his deal to be enticing enough for you to take it. 

“What if I decline your offer?” 

“Then I pray you’ll allow me to keep your company until I receive my next orders.” 

He seems to be a good, honorable man who wants to please you, and he had you tempted to accept on the merit of his skills in bed alone—there’s just something that won’t leave your mind. 

“Before I make my decision, answer this question: if you believe me to be so perfect, why were the others here?” 

He presses his large palm to your cheek. “It was in your power to deny me your company, and though the other women weren’t of my tastes, they were better than nothing.” 

You see no flaws in his answer. 

“I accept your offer on one condition.”

“And that is?”

You no longer find him intimidating, and you’re now comfortable brushing errant hairs off his forehead and sliding your fingers through the curls above his ears. 

Your eyes lock onto his. “You return home to me,” you tell him. “You fight with the might of Mars, and you always return home to me.” 

That earns you a small smile, and he takes your hand into his, kissing the center of your palm. 

“I will, my Dove.” 

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

[obj4soul]

Women's clothing sucks. And I now firmly believe that one of the reason women are more obsessed about their weight is because of clothing. Growing up I mostly wore mens/boys clothing and I never had to think about size, waist, etc. The clothes won't hug my thighs in the sense that would make me conscious of them while moving. If the waist was too big id grab a belt. Plus the design of pants and tshirts was pretty standard.

Now during my late teens, early twenties i started going towards more women's clothing. Because i felt I had to look more feminine. And HOLY SHIT. It sucked. BAD. First the material. Its so bad and thin and cost more than guys clothes. No standard Tshirt fit, everything has a different shoulder to chest ratio. The pants are either too tight, hug your ass and thighs too much or are too baggy to be comfortable. And the waist. Holy shit. Ive been underweight till I was 23 (medical reasons). And I didnt have a lot of problem with the waist thing then (see where this is going) but the moment I kicked my illness and gained weight and got into normal weight range, dude the waist thing became a big issue. FIRST of all. For guys the waist end at waist, the hip bone area. Not for women. Most clothes go above the hip bones, some even over the belly button. If the thing feels right standing up, youll suffocate sitting down. And even if its elastic waistband, its sitting on your stomach, it does not have a bone to support it and it feels uncomfortable. (Maybe I have some sensory issue, I don't know about yall but I dont like being conscious of clothes sticking to my body). And now to the main point. I never had any issue with waist being uncomfortable when I was underweight or when I wear boys pants (really pants made for boys get more humanly consideration than women) and the moment i got into normal range, the womens pants saying they are my waist size fit pretty snug and tight around my waist, ass and thighs. But still till this day I never face this issue with my boys pants. Today while trying on some pants that my mom gifted me that said their waist was a size bigger than mine I found then uncomfortable and started thinking should I lose some weight? And that fucking blew my mind because I am already thin and in a pretty normal range of BMI. Those clothes feel comfortable as long as you are underweight. That is insane. Seriously. Ladies if this the case with you all. Or maybe some of you. Ditch the women's section. If you are short like me, go for the boys section or else mens. These fucking clothing sizes and designs are not made thinking of your comfort in mind. Now im gonna go to the store and exchange the pants for some boys khaki pants.

I think this is just one face of how the system is designed to make you feel uncomfortable and doubt yourself. You see how much waist room guys get? We are the same species after all. What the fuck. Do you make different size clothing for male and female cats or monkeys? No fucking other species have such a wide difference in body shape than what humans are told we have.

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: class A banter

words: 3.5k

Summary: You're getting better at your job rather quickly. You already had some regulars, a group of naval aviators in particular. Sadly, Hangman was one of them. Today, you meet a new member of the group...

a/n: Thank you all so much for the likes and comments. I hope you like this one just as much.

Link to my masterlist

Your shifts at the bar got better by the day. Just like you had promised Penny, you learned quickly and improved every day. You already made out some of the regulars who were mostly Navy, young and old, retired, active and newbies, including some naval aviators that were stationed at North Island and the Hard Deck was their afterwork hangout.

You knew most of the naval aviators by their call signs, some even by their regular names. They liked you and you liked them. You seemed to find your footing in San Diego and it felt like it could become your home for at least a little while with every day that passed.

It was another busy evening at the Hard Deck. You still didn’t have the speed that Penny had in serving drinks but she also had three years more experience under her belt, at least here at the Hard Deck.

“Here you go”, you put two tall glasses of beer in front of two older gentlemen that definitely were part of the regulars; retired Navy. “Who’s driving tonight?”, you asked them. “Bert over here”, Carl said and pointed at his friend next to him. His actual name was Ernie but his call-sign was Bert as in Bert and Ernie. Carl’s call-sign was Ping-Pong.

You always thought that everything relating to military had to be super serious and tough, but as it turned out with every naval aviator you met, the names got funnier.

“Alright Bert, you know what that means. One more beer and I’m cutting you off”, you explained like they didn’t know the drill. “Women. Always nagging”, Bert shook his head but with a playful smile on his lips. You knew he was joking and you liked the exchange. “I just don’t wanna lose my favorite customer”, you told him and patted his hand that rested on the bar top. “You make an old man very happy”, he said and put his hand over yours. “Bert! You’re making me blush”, you told him and put your other hand over his. Ping-Pong put his hand on top of yours and now there was a tower of hands. “I felt excluded”, he simply said when you looked over at him and made the three of you laugh.

“Bradshaw!”, you heard Phoenix, a female naval aviator you had come to know through your work at the bar, exclaim over the crowd from the pool table as you turned away from the men to serve other customers. You looked at her first and then followed her eyes to a young man, probably the same age as she was, wearing a Hawaiian shirt as he walked past the bar counter, weaving his way through the crowd towards Phoenix. You just saw his profile and noticed that he was sporting a moustache.

Your attention got pulled away from him by other customers wanting to be served. You looked over at the group by the pool table from time to time. The Hawaiian shirt was an interesting contrast to the khaki uniforms he was surrounded by. You noticed how Hangman and the new guy seemingly went at it with intense stares and tense body language. Maybe they had a past or Hangman was just getting to him. That man could be unnerving.

You delivered a few drink orders to tables and got a new box of beer bottles out of storage when the new guy suddenly appeared at the counter. “Just a moment”, you told him as you put away the last few beers into the cooler. “Sure, take your time”, he said with no hint of sarcasm or impatience. You liked him already.

“Alright, what can I get ya?”, you asked and pushed a strand of your hair that had come loose from the big hair clip behind your ear. It was the first time you got a good look at his face and it was a pretty one. He really pulled off the mustache which wasn’t an easy task. The sunglasses he had on when coming in were now dangling at the neckline of his white shirt.

“A beer, please”, he placed his order. You grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and opened it. “Here you go. That makes 8,50”, you placed the beer in front of him with a smile. He returned the smile as he put a 10-dollar bill on the counter. “Thanks. The rest is for you, sweetheart”, he said and winked at you. He had a charming coolness about him. “Thank you”, you said as you took the money. He didn’t leave immediately but instead was looking at you with the same smile from before. “I’m Bradley”, he mentioned and extended his hand. “Y/N”, you told him and grabbed his hand for a surprisingly nice handshake.

“How do you know Phoenix?”, you asked him as you put the money in the register. “We met at the naval academy a few years ago”, he told you and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his beer. “So, you’re a pilot, too?”, you inquired but weren’t really surprised as he nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am”, he said. “What’s your call-sign?”, you continued with your questionnaire. “Rooster”, he answered and looked at you like he was a bit surprised that you knew what a call-sign was. “I just remember the call-signs better than the actual names. I don’t know why”, you explained with a chuckle and shrugged your shoulders.

“Rooster!”, Phoenix called him over to play a game of pool. “Thanks for the beer, sweetheart”, he said. “Thanks for the tip”, you said in return before Rooster pushed himself off the counter and walked over to his friends.

When you looked over, about two seats down from where you stood, you found Hangman looking at you.

"Why does he get to call you sweetheart without you getting all snappy on him?", Hangman asked after he witnessed Rooster calling you by, what he thought was, your hated nickname and instead of getting mad at him you just shot Rooster a wide smile.

"Because despite how our first meeting went, he patiently waited for his drink, said thank you AND tipped me", you explained to the aviator while you walked towards him.

After your first encounter, you had a few more run-ins of the same kind. Always douchey on his part and you always countered in a sarcastic, witty way, or so you’d liked to think.

"I tipped you on the next round", he countered. "I tipped myself on your next round", you told him, hinting at the douchebag tax you charged him.

"But with my money. And I paid your fantasy tax", he doubled down. "Tax isn't something you can avoid, fantasy or not. That's not how the IRS works", you lectured him in a playful seriousness.

"Good god, you're killing me, sweetheart", he rolled his eyes at you. "If only, Bagman, if only. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him off, intentionally using Phoenix' version of his call sign that you knew he hated.

“Are you just here to complain or do you want something from me?”, you asked him and wiped down the counter in front of him. “A beer, doll”, he placed his order. “A definite no to doll”, you immediately told him and wagged your finger in front of his face. “I’m just working my way through the nicknames until you like something or you give in. I don’t mind either way”, he shrugged his shoulder. “Rooster called me ma’am. I can work with that”, you told him and placed a fresh bottle of beer before him.

“I’m not calling you ma’am. I’d rather follow my original plan”, he countered. “You know what might be a crazy idea? Calling someone by their birthname”, you told him and rested your hands on the counter. He stared you down with his piercing green eyes and you felt a little twist in your stomach.

“Nah, that’s not fun”, he simply stated and shot you a wide smile, showing off his pearly whites before he got up and walked back to the others.

You shook your head over his cockiness which could get on your nerves sometimes and it really did, but the banter between the two of you was actually quite fun. The way he presented himself would have you think he was not very popular but actually the opposite was the case.

The way his teammates talked to and about him let you know that he had their respect but he also demanded it. He had no problem voicing that he was always top of the class, one of the best if not the best. He exuded BDE when entering a room, talked up a girl or got up against Rooster for what seemed like pretty much anything.

You didn’t know another way to describe it but he was a pretty boy with a HUGE ego and needed to be put in his place from time to time and you’d happily be the one to do it.

It was later in the evening when the jukebox suddenly stopped playing. You didn’t notice at first because of the wall of voices in the well-filled bar, only when you heard someone tickling the ivories of the piano that was standing right next to the bar circle.

You were making your rounds, collecting empty glasses and beer bottles as you heard someone starting to sing. When you looked up, you found Rooster sitting at the piano and his friends Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy and Bob were standing around him, joining in on his singing. You had just stopped at a table close to them, filling up the last space on your already full trey and smiled at the joy they had singing together. When Phoenix spotted you as you walked past them, she pulled you into the round. You only had about time to quickly put your tray down on the bar top, careful not to drop anything.

"Do you know 'Great balls of fire'?", she screamed in your ear over the music and loud singing around you. "Yes, but...", you tried to answer but she just shoved you next to the piano into Roosters vision. The current song had just ended and Phoenix tapped Roosters shoulder. "Play ‘Great balls of fire’, she’ll sing with you", she shouted at his ear over the loud noise in the bar. "No, guys, I have to work and I don't really wanna sing", you told them and wanted to get back to your trey of empty glasses.

Instead of listening to you, Rooster just started playing and Phoenix and Fanboy blocked your way out of the little circle that had formed around Rooster and you.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain”, Rooster started singing the first line and then looked at you. You just looked at him with big eyes. People from the crowd started looking at you, too, as they expected you to sing as you stood right next to the piano. Rooster just played the part again and again.

"I play it until you sing", he shouted over the music. You looked at him with a distraught look on your face. People started whistling as they got annoyed at the same tune being played over and over again. Phoenix held her bottle of beer in front of you and nudged you with her shoulder. You got a feeling that Rooster could be relentless when he wanted something. You groaned, grabbed the bottle of beer and took a big chug before you handed it back to Phoenix.

"Start again", you told Rooster with your finger moving in a circle in mid-air and cleared your throat. He sang the first line again and this time you picked up the second part of the verse right away. “Too much love drives a man insane.”

You didn't sound bad, quite the opposite, Rooster thought to himself. He sang the next line and you sang back the next. "Louder, Y/N", he yelled and when the chorus came around you sang at the top of your lungs like everybody else around you.

“I’ve changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”, you shouted along with everybody else.

“Kiss me baby”, Rooster sang and tapped his cheek with his finger for a moment before continuing to play. You guessed you were swept up in the moment because you bent down and kissed his cheek.

“Ooh, feels good”, he sang and shook his shoulders like your kiss actually made him shiver. Instead of singing along, you let out a laugh that was swallowed by the music and dozens of voices singing along.

When Rooster started playing the instrumental part in the middle of the song, he was really going off. You had no idea he was that good. He looked so cool and totally in his element. And on top of that, he was a fighter pilot. No wonder the girls were throwing themselves at him and he had easy game wherever he went.

You had to admit you were totally amazed and hypnotized by him at that moment. And when the line “Kiss me baby” came again, he didn’t have to ask you to give him a kiss on his cheek again.

You bent down to place your lips on his clean-shaven cheek but at the last second, he spun his head around and pressed his lips directly onto yours. “Ooh, feels good”, he sang even louder and threw you a mischievous smile while he kept playing.

Your eyes got big and you felt your cheeks burning up. Rooster was a real player and not just of the piano.

When you finally broke out of your paralyzed state, you playfully slapped his shoulder and joined back in at “Got to tell this world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine”.

You had to admit you had fun singing with them. When everybody was really going off to another round of the chorus, you saw your chance and sneaked off, grabbing the trey of glasses, and making a beeline around the bar, getting behind the counter.

"Sorry, Penny, they made me sing", you apologized when you came face to face with your boss, starting to put the glasses into the baskets for the dishwasher. "Who knew you had a pipe on you, Y/N?", Penny said and lightly bumped her hips into yours, not looking the least bit mad that you had just taken a singing break in the middle of your shift on a really busy night.

When the song finally ended, everybody cheered and clapped for Rooster. He jumped up on the piano bench and pointed towards the bar. "And give it up for Y/N", he yelled and you saw dozens of heads turning towards you which made your cheeks blush again immediately. Everybody cheered just as loud for you and it sent an excited tingle up your spine. You blew your maestro a kiss from behind the counter and got back to taking drink orders.

Fanboy, Payback and Phoenix sat at the bar, Bob and Rooster stood behind them, completing the circle. Jake and Coyote also sat at the bar, a bit to the side.

When you walked up, you heard the group talking about fake boobs. You placed a new round of beers in front of them and managed to make out who they were talking about. They were all not so subtly looking at a tall blonde at the back of the bar talking to a guy, her boobs suspiciously big and high up for her overall size.

“I don’t know man, I can’t say. Not without touching them”, Fanboy said and cocked his head to the side as he studied the view. “Yeah, as you would ever get the chance to do that”, Phoenix commented.

You wiped the counter and smiled to yourself. “They��re totally fake”, you commented and all their heads turned to you. “Really? How do you know?”, Payback asked. “When she laughs, and she laughs with her whole body, they don’t give at all”, you explained and all their heads turned back to the woman. And as luck would have it, just at that moment she let out a big laugh, holding on to that guy’s arm. She’s totally going home with him tonight, you thought to yourself.

Even after your little time behind the bar, you got really good at spotting stuff like that. And Penny was really good at sniffing out when a fight’s about to break out and defusing the situation.

“Oh yeah, you’re right”, Fanboy said as he made the discovery. “Why do you know so much about fake boobs?”, Rooster asked intrigued. “I worked as a receptionist for a beauty doc in New York”, you told them. “Did you see a lot of boobs?”, Fanboy kept asking. “Probably more than you”, you commented, you couldn’t help yourself. The group laughed and Rooster gave you a high five.

“But it’s ridiculous how expensive they are. Well, if you want it to be good, at least”, you told them further.

The main rush of the night was over and you had a little time to talk, not needing to hand out new drinks every two seconds.

“What was the most expensive pair you’ve ever seen?”, Phoenix asked you. You thought for a second. “I think the craziest were 8k a piece”, you told them and their eyes got big. “For boobs?”, Rooster said a little loud and some heads turned his way. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Hangman looking over.

“It’s crazy how much people are willing to pay for stuff like that. I could never afford anything close to that. But I have to admit they looked spectacular”, you said and formed perfectly round boobs in front of your chest.

“To be fair, you have no need in that department”, Payback toasted you with his beer. Anybody else might have made it sound gross or sleezy, but he had a real charm about him and you knew how he meant it.

“Thank you, but just because they���re natural doesn’t mean they were cheap. The right one’s mostly McDonalds and the left one’s pizza. That’s because it is also the bigger one”, you told them with a smirk. As prove, you bent over and pulled your shirt down a bit, revealing the hem of your breasts. “See?”, you said and had them look directly down your cleavage.

Partially you meant it as a joke, but also you were sure that even they all liked to flirt and joke around, none of them actually considered you as sexy or a potentially datable person. That was just never the case for you. Why should it be different with them?

“Okay, shows over”, you pulled your shirt back up and snapped your fingers in front of their faces. “Pay up, it’s late”, you told them and made them close their tabs for the night. They waved a goodbye at you before they left the bar as a group.

“Pay up”, you said to Hangman as you made your rounds of closing the tabs of the remaining customers. Coyote must have left already as he was sitting there alone.

“So, you moved here from New York?”, Hangman asked as he handed you his credit card, having no trouble admitting that he had eavesdropped on your conversation. “No, from New Jersey”, you answered, not planning on going into more detail as you swiped his card through the machine. “And there were no more jobs left in New Jersey so you decided to torment the good people of San Diego?”, he asked and a mocking smile appeared on his face.

“You know, it has always been my dream to move across the country to become a bartender, getting to serve a green-eyed jerk for a living”, you told Hangman and handed his card back to him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here I am to make your dreams come true”, he said with a wink and a sleezy smile.

You waited for a moment then leaned over the bar counter to look at the floor right in front of it. “Nope, you didn’t drop dead. But a girl can dream”, you shot at him with a fake smile.

“You can dream as much as you want about me”, he said with a cocky smile plastered across his face.

“Why are you so easy on the eyes but so hard on the ears?”, you asked him with an eyeroll. “So, you think I’m pretty?”, he asked in return and leaned his underarms on the bar top. “No, you think you’re pretty. And that’s the problem. Have you ever considered therapy? Or a good hit to the back of your head?”, you suggested and polished some glasses.

“Sometimes I get my head banged against the headboard, I don’t always have to be on top”, he told you. You exaggerated a dry-heave motion and sound and Hangman let out a big laugh.

“See ya, Y/N”, he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked towards the exit. “I hope not”, you called after him.

You turned around to put away the freshly polished glasses and tried your hardest not to picture Jake in bed, naked and sweaty. But you failed. Failed miserably.

next: Part 3

[celestialprincesse]

✨blurb/imagine request✨

i hardly ever see any plus sized reader x 141 men (specifically simon / könig / price) fics, blurbs, or even imagines. If you’re interested i’d love to see what you’d do with it! 💕

(nsfw is more than okay🤭)

Of course I can! I def think Simon looves having a girl w/ some curves! Smt about the softness and femininity of it all drives him feral.

Warnings: afab reader, nsfw (was feeling slutty today 😃)

Simon loves the way you look when you're baking. Loves the way you bop about the kitchen to the quiet sound of your playlist, swaying your hips to the beat of every song. You get in the zone, and he gets a show that has his dick getting hard in his pants.

He'd no idea what you were concocting today. Something French by the sound of it. Admittedly, he cared more about the way the plush flesh of your ass jiggled as you leant over the counter to roll out the pastry than whatever fancy dessert you'd come up with today. The sight of you vaguely reminds him of a painting he'd seen in secondary school once. Something about Venus. To him you're so much more though - you're Venus and Saturn, Mars and Jupiter. You are his entire universe.

There's something about the softness and warmth of you that drives him insane. Of course, he thinks that lots of women are beautiful, muscular, slim, tall or small. There's something about you, though, something about every soft dip and curve of your body. You're the picture of health, soft with every hearty, home cooked meal and sweet dessert made and perfected with hours of practise, concentration and love.

When the already short material of your skirt rides up? He's a goner. Thick arms looping around your waist have you giggling, leaning your head back into the crook of Simon's neck, inhaling the residual scent of yesterday's cologne and that deliciously clean, post shower smell. "What y'making?" Soft muscle and warm skin reverberate against your back as he speaks low in your ear, peppering kisses down the column of your neck whilst his hands find their way up your shirt. The way your back arches against him, pressing your ass into his crotch as he grabs a handful of your tits and squeezes softly, he's convinced there's no better feeling in the world. "Mille Feuille." You mumble breathily back as Simon nudges your lower back so that you're leaning a little further over the counter, leaving prints of your boobs in the flour you'd sprinkled on the counter so your dough didn't get sticky. "Mille Feuille." He rumbles back, lips brushing your ear as his free hand travels down your stomach, between the soft warmth of your thighs, thumb brushing teasingly over your panties.

You inadvertently clench your thighs around Simon's hand, body stuck between whether or not it likes the intrusion, and from the wet lace of your panties, you're pretty sure it's trying to keep him there. The audible squelch of your panties when Simon pushes his middle and ring finger up against your folds has you blushing, trying to escape where he's got you pinned at the hips over the counter, only receiving a tsk from Simon as he ruts his cock against your ass. "Bend over proper for me baby, yeah?" He coos, gently pushing you down by the back of your neck so that your cheek presses against the cool marble of the countertop. "Tha's it. So, so pretty f'me. So good, yeah?" Is what accompanies the back of your skirt being flipped up, your ruined underwear pushed dismissively to the side.

A whimper gets lost amongst the sound of Simon's belt being unbuckled, with one hand at that, seeing as the other is running his fingers through your folds, collecting the glossy slick that's already leaking from your hole. The way your pussy flutters around nothing just from the thought of his actions behind you is shameful, but Simon likes it. When Simon's cock juts carefully between your thighs, his hips bumping against your ass, you go completely blank, a fucked out look on your face without him even having gone inside yet. "You like that baby? Yeah?" His tone has you nodding dumbly, your hand not supporting your head coming to rub impatiently at your clit, mewling softly as you buck your hips up against him. "So needy f'me already." Accompanies the sound of a breathless moan, like you've had all the air punched out of you when Simon notches the weeping head of his cock up into you. The angle has you gasping, hands gripping at the unyielding counter as you attempt to steady yourself against his gradually roughening thrusts. "Fuck, Si." You cry out as his dick pushes against your cervix, his dark gaze probing, fiercely intense as you pant and whine. "Thaaaats it." Is groaned gently into your ear as you take the entirety of his length with a weak cry.

Simon's pace is punishing, more so that he can watch the way your ass jiggles with every hard snap of his hips than because he means anything by it. The way you whine and mewl is only an added extra. He knows when you're about to cum, by the way you grow breathless, eyes rolling back and pussy practically sucking his cock up, greedy thing. With a few last thrusts, and a slap of your butt for good measure, you keen out, Simon's own eyes rolling back when he feels the warm wash of your cum around his cock. It doest take long for him to ride out his own orgasm, pressing his chest down against your back, his head into the crook of your neck as he spurts thick, hot cum right up into the plug of your womb.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Not proof read at all !! Trying to get a lil better at writing smut 🫠 N e ways!! Enjoy!!

[spookykoolkat]

Plus Size!Metalhead!Reader x Eddie Munson smut idiots to lovers!

The reader is Robin’s best friend and has just moved back to Hawkins after studying abroad.

When she returns she is introduced to everyone and quickly becomes part of the gang. Eddie quickly falls for her as the two have quite a lot in common, however, he doesn’t act on his feelings as he thinks the reader is Robin’s girlfriend. Little does he know she has major feelings for him as well but she thinks him and Steve are together. Eventually they are forced to bunk together on a camping trip (orchestrated by Steve and Robin who have been dying for the two to finally admit their feelings) at first things are awkward between the two but they soon heat up into something neither of them expected.

the cabin in the woods - e.m. request*

main masterlist

an: just a story i tried to convey the best, about two very confused adults who don't really know how to communicate! i hope this does your idea justice it took me FOREVER i'm so sorry 😭 and its so long omg this is my longest work ever PLS I HOPE ITS NOT BORING THANK U FOR SENDING UR REQUESTS I LOVE THEM 🩷🩷 i'm also doing requests for kinktober if anyone wants to send them in :p thank u everyone to all of ur love on all of my fics u dont even Know how much it means to me 🥹

wc: 10.4K

warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of mutual pining, explicit thoughts, mentions of eddie and you wishing the other weren't gay, lots of mentions of sexualities, miscommunication, porn with a plot, p in v, (unprotected. do NOT do this), oral sex (m and f receiving), slight ass play, ownership, pet names (sweet girl, baby, princess, pretty, sweetheart, etc)

MINORS NOT WELCOME. DNI!

 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

IT WAS WEIRD BEING BACK IN HAWKINS, being back in the states in general felt like a culture shock. and disappointing. the euphoric feeling of learning and living in another country for a year was not comparable, and you promised your best friend robin that when you got back, you'd tell her all about it.

over the year you were gone for your studies, she told you about a few people she met while she was in high school, and had been with ever since. she was excited about bringing you to a party the night of your arrival so you could meet everyone, she said you were all she ever talked about, and how excited everyone was to meet you. 

robin was insistent on your attendance, getting small hesitation on your part, and she swore up and down that you'd fit right in. you questioned her judgment sometimes, especially in women, but you had no other reason not to trust your best friend.

you and robin were complete opposites, you were the girl who liked metal, death metal, and occasionally rock music and she enjoyed the oldies, harboring weird talents and interests that you enjoyed learning about. but you clicked so well, meshed together in a way where you could never be separated.

it wasn't long before you arrived at her place, dressed and ready after hitting your house first, and was met with a lethal scream of your name and tears of joy. it didn't take long to catch up, talk, cry, and laugh so the minute robin decided it was time to go to this party, you guys drove into the city together.

"are you excited?!" she dragged as she noticed your fingers tap against your faded gray jeans that were maybe two sizes too bog, hanging low on your hips with the help of a belt. 

"i'm fucking nervous." you admitted and ran your fingers through your hair.

"for what? dude, these are not people who need to be impressed. they're going to love you and i know it!" she exclaimed.

it was a bit before they drove past buildings, and turned into nothing until they pulled into a trailer park. 

“eddie’s trailer was the destination party zone tonight, so, yeah.” robin said as she parked next to a van, presumably eddie’s. you weren’t one to judge a single person, especially not one you didn’t know, so you just nodded with a smile and stepped out of the car. 

you adjusted your black tank top that, unlike your jeans, was maybe two sizes too small and hugged the curves and rolls of your body.

you liked the way you looked, your wrists covered in bracelets with studs and beads on them, your hair parted down the middle and frizzy from the hawkin’s heat. the makeup you had on was minimal, just black eyeliner smudged around your eyes and lipstick that was lined with black and filled in with a blood red. 

robin was so drawn to you when she first met you. she thinks about it as the two wait at his front door, and how she was so lucky to meet you. to bring her out of her shell and be honest with herself.

she knew being with you meant zero judgment, and if someone dared to fuck with you or robin, robin knew you’d be quick to defend her with your life. you honestly reminded her a lot of eddie once she met him, telling him she had a friend that he would just love. he doubted it of course. eddie didn’t think there was another person like him that existed, impossible.

but robin knew, she believed she knew everything. and she made a small promise to herself that she’d help you find someone, even though you insisted on being happy alone. she knew it was true, but when she first met eddie she realized maybe she could play cupid when you came back into town. 

“robin, did you bring the-” eddie said, opening the door, until he looked beside the skinny, jittery girl.

you didn’t blush at the unsaid compliment, you just watched as eddie looked over your full figure.

“eddie… you’re staring,” robin said, looking between you and eddie to make sure he wasn’t scaring you off. you just laughed a little. 

you stuck your hand out and introduced yourself by your name, “i’m robin’s friend.” 

he took it with grace and stuttered out a small hey, as normal as he could but it was indeed weird. eddie looked at robin, gleaming with pride, and he tried to put two and two together, failing miserably. 

“friend?” eddie asked, looking between the two of you before letting go of your hand. 

“yes idiot! she just moved back to hawkins, she’s the one i’ve been talking about!” robin said as she grabbed your hand and dragged you inside. you give him a smile, and a look over, going with your friend. 

she’s the one i’ve been talking about. how could he be so stupid? he totally forgot about this girl he’d been hearing about. robin would go on and on about her friend coming back from another country, and how much she adored this friend and missed this friend and how badly she wanted the group to meet this friend. 

he didn’t think too much about it, he didn’t want to assume. everyone knew robin played for the other team, so he wasn’t sure if you were her friend or her friend. so, he took advantage of the gray area and checked you out as robin introduced everyone to you. eddie saw how robin held her arm, close to her and tight.

he also tried to pay attention to the groups reactions, to see if maybe they had the same idea as him. he was a shit expression reader. he was going to feel bad about staring at this girl,  imagining her in every way he could, if you were in fact robin’s girlfriend. 

as the night went on, it seemed like it got more difficult. you kept seeing him stare at you sitting on the floor in between nancy and robin, he watched you as you drank and laughed and got to know the crowd that robin found herself in. you enjoyed everyone, nancy was such a nice girl to you, constantly asking if you needed anything and if you were okay.

you wondered if eddie would come over to you and maybe try to talk to you, but he just engaged in conversations with steve.

you got to know everyone, who was studying what, if they decided to go to college next fall or not, life plans and enjoying each other’s company. it wasn’t often you were alone, but the minute robin and nancy got up to get another drink from eddie’s fridge, he slithered his way to sit next to you. 

“i was wondering when you were going to stop staring at me,” you spoke, turning your head as you sat crisscrossed in front of the small coffee table.

“i was trying to figure out, and i’m being honest here don’t laugh at me” he warned before speaking again, “if you were real.” 

you laughed a bit more than you expected, feeling it in your tummy and he gave you a pout. 

“and your conclusion?” you asked, taking a sip again. 

“honestly? i’m not so sure yet.” 

it was the beginning of long conversations, laughter, bonding, and hidden flirting. the two of you were dancing around each other, bouncing off of each other's wit and casual snarkiness. 

it was fun, you could admit. and you finally assessed him, his faded metallica shirt was paired with black jeans that might’ve been tighter than yours, almost the same bracelets. his arms were covered in aimless tattoos that were small and looked like they were just drawn on from how many he had. you loved them. 

“i love metallica,” you murmur against your cup, indulging in eddie while everyone talks amongst themselves and listens to the music.

it was loud enough to not hear your conversation if you were someone else, that you were grateful for. you watched as he sat up a bit to glance at his shirt, and gave you a nervous smile.

“wha- oh, right yeah. me too, i can play a few songs on my guitar actually.” he tried to impress after remembering the shirt he was wearing, and it worked. you were a sucker for guitar players, especially ones who preferred metal and rock. 

“oh yeah? are you in a band or something?” you laughed softly, there was no way he was actually in one because it’d make it ten times harder not to want to jump his bones. “what guitar?” you asked excitedly. 

you appreciated the instrument even with no knowledge about it and would appreciate it more seeing him play it for you. eddie liked seeing the excitement on your face, the way you got closer to him sent excitement somewhere else for him. 

“i am actually, maybe i can play for you one day.” he teased and finally, you blushed.

the way his eyes met yours made you want to melt into it, have his gaze consume you whole. he was everything, he was adorable, handsome, sexy, attractive, funny, and god was he charming. he didn’t even have to do much to send you pining after him.

“it’s on my wall, in my room if you wanna see it,” he suggested and you raised an eyebrow, too distracted to remember what he was talking about and he notices, “the guitar, i don’t use it often but i think this one time is an exception, afterall you might just be my favorite guest. wouldn’t want any of my hospitality going to someone like steve,” he joked and steve whipped his head around. 

“i heard that, asshole.” steve replied over the music, sending you to laugh before looking back to eddie who blew him an exaggerated kiss.

“i’d love to see it,"

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you were staying for good, which meant you had all the time in the world with eddie when he wasn’t working at his uncle’s mechanic shop. he would brag about being the one to take over, shaking his head at the thought of going to college.

you didn’t mind though, you told him that college isn’t for everyone and it’s okay going a different route despite ghosted voices that were haunting him about it.

he admired the fact that you were so similar to him, finding himself getting lost in you when you explained the lore of texas chainsaw massacre and actually being interested in it too. he heard everything you said, listened to every story you told about being in france, and helped you through whatever hump you were trying to get over.

you didn’t believe robin when she said he was actually the only other guy she got along with besides steve, and how she believed it would be the same for you. she was right, but you’d never tell her. 

and she’d never tell you her true intentions by introducing you to eddie, and how she wished that maybe he’d open you up enough to the idea of possibly dating again. but, she didn’t really think it through. she figured maybe she’d let the universe handle it, but then started to notice the dynamic of your idea forming about eddie. 

you found yourself at his trailer a lot, smoking his weed that he offered and drinking, watching movies and enjoying the company of one another while robin was busy. 

he gave you soft touches here and there, let you sleep in his bed with him when you were too high to drive back, gave you massages, picked you up when you needed a ride. he was there when you needed him, there at any moment you called for him. 

and so were you. you really liked eddie, the feeling weighing on you everytime you let yourself take his flirting and touches for more than what they were. you felt guilty for lying next to him or on him when you passed out during a movie, you felt guilty for thinking about his lips on yours and on your body. 

the only problem that kept the two of you from indulging in the fantasies you both had was… you strongly believed that eddie was in a relationship with steve harrington. and as for eddie, he was fully convinced that you were off limits because you were going with robin buckley.

and this was the problem robin worried about.

you knew robin was lesbian of course, and she knew you were bisexual. unfortunately, eddie knows robin is lesbian but figured you were lesbian as well. he couldn’t shake the feeling of craving you and wanting you the way he has, and he felt guilty because in his mind you were robin’s girl.

so, all of his dirty thoughts and ideas about you felt wrong, and instantly tried to bury it when one night he found himself wishing you liked men.

but where was the harm in imagination? eddie was so infatuated with you that his self indulgent behavior was harmless. he knew he couldn’t have you, he knew you only saw him as a friend and that was that. but he was so wrong, and so were you. 

he thought of you daily, and in ways that were almost embarrassing. he craved you, the desire and want he had every time you were near was almost uncontrollable. 

you never asked anyone if eddie was gay, to be fair. it wasn’t your place to ask of course, plus you figured if eddie was into you he’d just simply tell you. 

you just assumed, and the way that he and steve interacted all the time made you think maybe they were romantically involved. eddie’s teasing and flirting towards steve made you wonder if eddie was completely off limits, but affirmed it when eddie would plant a wet kiss on steve’s cheek.

you didn’t know, but that was just what eddie did. 

eddie was a flirt, to everyone but robin in their group. even if it was out of nowhere, that’s just how eddie carried himself. of course in your mind, you hoped that he was at least bisexual.

you felt incredibly guilty about that too because regardless if he was bisexual, in your mind he and steve were still a couple. to not only hope he turned out to be bisexual, but to fantasize about someone else’s partner was just incredulous to think about. 

but there you were. daydreaming about the guy who sat next to you almost every other day on his couch after work, and would have to snap back into reality when he asked you if you wanted to smoke.

it was a routine.

you’d say yes, the two of you would smoke and listen to his cassettes, talk about urban legends and myths, movies and how you always felt like you could act—you couldn’t—and topics that seemed to flow between the two of you. 

it was easy with him, and you appreciated it. 

the only thing hard about the relationship you hold with him is that you’re thinking of being face down for him on your bed with your ass pushing against him. you were fighting every nasty thought of your friend, wondering how he’d feel inside of you and if he’d be able to make you cum.

the attraction the two of you had for each was obvious, so obvious that the entire group were pointing it out to each other. 

robin needed a plan. and quickly, because she couldn’t fathom another minute of you denying yourself as well as him just because he thinks you’re lesbian. she didn’t want to address it actually, she wanted to scheme and plot. better to make them think it was coincidental when really she had something to prove. 

robin felt weird about plotting a set up for you, especially because robin knew there was obviously a better and more logical way to approach this miscommunication between you and eddie. so, in hopes of setting the two of you up, robin goes to steve with her probably weird borderline disturbing idea. 

turns out, steve and robin felt the same way. watching you two was just as painful for them as it was for the two of you. thus, mission cabin in the woods was put into place. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you regretted this terribly. you weren’t an outdoorsy person even though the place you were staying was like a cabin. just a cabin in the woods, six young adults, left to their own devices for two days. it wasn’t the absolute worst you soon found out, the cabin was right near a lake that had a long extended pier, trees and dirt and grass surrounding you, and a large bonfire opportunity behind the cabin, right before you went to the lake.

it was more modern than anything, as everyone settled in and went around the cabin, pairs started calling dibs on the three rooms, leaving you and eddie the last pair to bunk together. 

“robin, i thought we were going to stay together? what the hell?” you whispered as you grabbed her arm to drag her down the hall away from everyone. you already settled in while eddie quietly took his things to his side of the room. 

“oh! um, right,” she didn’t think of what would happen after phase one of her and steve’s plan, nervously glancing at steve who was peeking at the girls from his door frame.

“steve, i mean you know steve, he needed to talk to me about how he keeps getting rejected by every woman, like ever. he was a little upset about nancy and jonathan rooming together.” 

she was lying, and you followed her awkward gaze to steve, when he immediately withdrew himself from peeking and behind the wall. but you heard a small gasp from that room since it wasn’t too far from where you and nancy stood at the stairs.

it was steve’s gasp, because when he rested his back against the wall and opened his eyes again, eddie was standing there in front of him with his arms crossed. 

“dude, what the fuck,” steve said, and eddie shook his head. 

“i should be saying that to you. care to tell me why on earth i’m rooming with her?” eddie asked condescendingly, expecting the truth. 

“what’s wrong with that? i thought you guys were friends. robin, she needed my advice to-”

“i’m going to ask you again.” eddie said, “why am i not rooming with you?”

steve looked defeated and he hasn’t even tried, but he knew if he gave no excuse it would be worse than a shitty one. he was also a little scared that robin would become unfathomably upset if steve told eddie what was really going on.

and so would you, so before either of the two could mutter out another lie while you and eddie interrogate them unknowingly at the same time, nancy ended up coming out of her room with a grin, 

“i need to go swimming, come on!”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the entirety of the day you spent at the cabin on your first day of a three day trip, you spent at the lake. not by yourself of course, you and the other two girls swam and tanned as the guys sat in their swim trunks, drinking beers.

to make things more interesting, the three of you decided to have fun diving off the pier and into the lake, splashing each other, and playing marco polo. 

now the three of you swam around each other, keeping yourselves afloat to talk and converse. the conversation started about you being in france again, and if you met anyone there, if you had a french lover for the semester or if you were too busy with your head in books. 

“there was this one girl, god she was like five foot eleven and just, she was so fucking gorgeous. we met at a cafe and we talked for like a few days until she was like, ‘well i don’t really think i’m gay,’ and i was just,” you explained to the girls and paused. “we kissed and i guess she wasn’t into it so i never heard from her again.” 

“you’ve lived like ten lives.” robin deadpanned and it made a laugh bubble to your throat. 

“so you’re bisexual?” nancy inquired, genuinely. “you know i thought you were straight actually.”

“yeah i thought i was a lesbian for like six years but then i started dating this guy during high school but i still liked girls so, figured i was bisexual.” you said with a small laugh, and the girls smiled at you. 

“so, do you think eddie knows?’ nancy asked the two of you as you guys kept afloat in the water and you raised your eyebrow, looking between robin, nancy, and even glancing over your shoulder to the guys who were now smoking so you could look at eddie. 

only for eddie to already be looking at you while you swam in the water. a blush creeped onto your skin, thanking god that your slight sunburn covered it. 

“knows what?” you asked. 

“that you’re not actually a lesbian,” nancy laughed and you heard robin wince and say nancy’s name.  

“what?” you couldn’t help yourself from the high octave in your voice, and nancy looked surprised.

“she didn’t know, nance.” robin said bleakley and nancy mouthed a small sorry to her. 

“explain. now.” you demanded, swimming your way to the pier to pull yourself up and sit on the ledge. the girls followed you but stayed in the lake. 

“well, see, he kind of thinks that we’re together, like girlfriends. and well, fuck,” robin said as she looked behind you and hit her wet hand against her hand. 

“what?” you asked worriedly and saw a forced smile creep onto her lips. 

“hey!! eddie!” robin said dramatically and you looked behind you to see eddie, standing in nothing but his black swim trunks and right in back of you. so much as to where you were practically face to face with his groin. you whipped around quickly. 

eddie was watching you all day. he couldn’t help but watch you. your bikini set didn’t help him either, steve actually had to tell him to close his mouth when you pulled yourself up from out of the water and onto the wooden pier, every movement causing a bounce and jiggle in your body and sending an ache to his cock. 

he was thinking of you so impurely, so twisted that he didn’t even feel like he was being himself. he didn’t understand why he was so obsessed with you, why everything about you made him want you even more. 

“well apparently those two assholes have suffered major injuries to their legs because they both asked me to come over here and tell you two girls,” eddie said pointing with his index and middle finger at nancy and robin, “that you are wanted as of now.” 

you didn’t bother turning around to peer up at him again, instead you just watched the girls look at you, then at each other, then swimming to the stairs of the pier. eddie takes a seat next to you, legs dangling off the pier. you feel the burn of his body heat sitting right next to you, and you look down to see the distinction between your thighs and eddie’s. 

he’s like half your size. 

you were nervous, you knew that you were a bigger girl and didn’t care, but suddenly you felt like you were taking up too much space. but he sat this close to you for a reason, your thighs spilled over to touch his at this point. 

“is it just me or are they acting reaaaaaaaaally weird?” eddie asked, peeling his eyes from the crease between your tummy touching your thigh, and how the bikini bottom you wore pressed into your hip, to robin and steve. he needed to distract himself before he felt himself forming a tent in his not so stretchy swimming trunks. 

you watched robin and steve from across the lake, sitting in lounge chairs and talking, while looking at the two of you. you tried to think back on the way robin had been acting this last month, wondering if she was showing any signs of suspiciousness to understand why she had been so secretive. 

“he kind of thinks we’re together, like girlfriends,”

you were thinking back to finding out you weren’t sharing a room with your best friend, and instead the man you’ve thought about between your legs. 

she was fucking lying. 

“right…. hold that thought, actually.” you said blankly, lifting yourself from sitting on the wooden edge of the pier and fast walking your way to robin’s seat. 

one, it was hard to sit next to eddie without being awkward about his presence. and two, this would be your only time to talk to robin about whatever she had up her sleeve. 

eddie watched you walk off, how could he not, and watched as the pumpkin orange bikini get taken in between your asscheeks. he was definitely enjoying this view of your curvy silhouette, the rolls of your back, where the strings of your bikini bit into. he was enjoying all of this, and he immediately felt his cock harden again as he let himself consume all of you, and the way your thighs jiggled with every step. 

eddie could say he wouldn’t know what love is, which would be true, but whatever it was, he felt it when you came into the picture. he had crushes before, girls in the classes he barely went to, his newest supplier, a girl he made eye contact with once. but you, you torched his body into flames with every touch and laugh. he was consumed by you, his mind only thinking of ways to make you smile, to make you happy. he remembered your favorite foods, what color you chose to wear out more, and even your own childhood crushes. 

he wanted to be buried in them, to feel the way they suffocate him when he’s face to face with your thick core, spreading your lips to taste all of you. he couldn’t name a person that made him feel like you do, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else being made for him like you were. 

knowing eddie’s eyes were on you, you ignored it as you pulled robin up from her seat. 

“you were lying! steve didn’t fucking need your help, you were trying to set me up with eddie!” you hushed out, your cheeks hot. 

“what?! i would ne-” you tilted your head and looked at her blankly. 

“fuck okay, fine but steve helped me too!” your head whipped to steve who glared at robin and held his hands up in surrender. 

“why would you help?” you asked, confused as ever now. you looked between the two as they looked at each other as if they know something you don’t. 

“i mean, why would you want to set us up? eddie’s gay!” you said, as a matter of fact. 

“and he’s dating you is he not?” you asked questionably, pointing to steve and now as you understood their faces more. 

“what? no! you thought he was dating me?” steve exasperated from his seat, which wasn’t that far from where you stood. 

“eddie’s not gay… that’s why we tried to um, set you guys up because both of you thought the other one was dating us. so, we took it upon ourselves.” robin explained and you crossed your arms over your chest to put a hand on your forehead. 

“why would you think me and eddie were dating?” steve kept on, and robin shushed him as she looked back to you. 

“i mean does it seem like we’re dating? like, am i-” 

“steve. not now.” robin said curtly and you tapped your forehead. 

“eddie’s… not gay?” you whispered to yourself and looked back to him, only to see him standing behind you. 

“you thought i was gay?” eddie asked, finding it a little funny. he was amused, at least. not angry. 

“um, steve i need, uh,” robin said and looked at steve. “that thing, you know like that thing i was talking about that time-”

“just go!” you grumbled, keeping your eyes on eddie as you heard their footsteps falter. 

the only sound you can hear is nature, the lake, and your breathing. the sun was going down already, and the pink hue of the sunset coated the sky, and glimmered on eddie’s face. he looked beautiful, his curls were tighter given the lake water from earlier, dry now and his pale body was glistening with a small sheen of sweat from the humidity. 

“you thought i was dating robin.” you said to defend yourself and his eyes went wide.

“you’re not dating robin? but she’s been like talking about you since forever and the way she talks about you━wait so you’re straight?” he said once he remembered what he was talking about. 

“well no, i’m bisexual but, still like men.” you smiled.

there was a shift in the air once those words left your mouth, and when eddie’s eyes fell over your body from your face to your toes, you felt your core clench around nothing. there was something in his eyes that you’d never seen before, knowingly at least, and when your eyes raked over his body, you noticed a bulge in his trunks. 

now you felt bare to him, only in two pieces of small cloth that covered your most vulnerable areas. something that eddie noticed too, knowing that he could get you naked bare for him with a pull and a tug on your swimsuit. 

“so you’re single?” you blurted and bit your lip.

eddie smirked at the question, and stepped a little closer to you. 

“and ready to mingle, baby.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

it was fairly surprising that everyone decided to shower and settle for watching a movie on the tv in the cozy living room. the fireplace was lit, only because it was practically freezing inside. 

you were the last one to shower and after you finally got dressed in the humid bathroom, you ringed your hair dry with your towel and shook the strands apart. you decided that you were ready to hit the sack, wanting to get as much rest as possible before you find yourself out of breath and passing out from heat exhaustion the next day while you’re on your hike with the group. they wanted to actually try the whole campsite thing, roasting marshmallows and drinking water out of a can, meanwhile you just wanted to go dip in the lake again. 

you decided to say goodnight to everyone who was downstairs, half already snoring, sprawled out on the floor. one person you didn’t see was eddie, who you actively looked for until you guessed he was in the restroom. your heart was already in your chest as your feet hit each stair, only taking you further to having to spend eight hours in the same bed with eddie munson. 

maybe you were nervous. the thought of feeling this guy lay next to you in bed was putting a flutter in your tummy, everything felt like it flipped upside down when the confusion was cleared up between the two. no one ever made you feel like this, not even the six foot straight french girl who seduced you. 

before you could even open the door to the room you were hoping that you’d be asleep by the time he came upstairs, just so that the ache between your legs would finally settle down. but to your dismay, you opened the door to eddie, shirtless and laying on his back over the comforters. 

he sat up without a second thought, and you almost got whiplash with how quickly he moved and looked at you. 

“i can take the floor if you want,” suddenly you felt small. it was a weird feeling, but walking into this room to sleep with him only felt like it was an invitation for more. and you wanted more. 

“no it’s okay, i’m just ready for bed.” you said and smiled, closing the door and going to the right side of the bed. 

“can i turn this off?” you asked looking over your shoulder just to see him looking at the bare skin of your back that your skimpy little shirt didn’t cover. 

“you can do whatever you want, princess.” he muttered under his breath and you turned your head, smiling and pulling the beaded string until you heard a click. his lamp was still on as you pulled your legs into the lifted covers, sliding down to lay on your side and face the opposite direction of eddie. 

eddie on the other hand was thinking of what to say as he turned his lamp off, doing the same maneuver you did to get comfortable, except he was facing you. staring at your back again, his eyes went lower until the blanket was resting at the curve of your waist. he noticed where your shirt copied the and molded your rolls and back. 

eddie felt like now it was a free-for-all. knowing you’re not tied down to someone, and knowing you were still very attracted to the opposite sex. 

“steve and robin tried to set us up didn’t they?” he asked you from behind, his voice still very close to you. 

“they did,” you confirmed, softly. 

“did you want to be set up with me?” he asked, a little nervous. 

“if i tell you then robin and steve would be right.” you said and turned awkwardly to face him, now eye to eye. he couldn’t help but notice the way your tits pressed together. 

“who said we have to tell them the truth?” 

his hand didn’t waste a second to press into your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your lips to trace them. 

“you really want me?” eddie asked. 

there it was, the shift in the dark air that was only scarcely lit by the full moon flooding in through the bare window. 

you didn’t answer, you only shifted from your position to your knees, moving the blanket off of eddie to see his pale white skin, and straddle his hips when he laid on his back. your hands moved to his chest to steady yourself and his hands fell naturally to the dip of your curve, gripping into the fat of your hips.

he tilted his head to look up at you, your hair cascading down your shoulders to create a sort of shield around your face. he couldn't help but tug at a strand,making you smile. 

you just decided to go for it. all the nervousness and teasing and flirting built up to this, when you leaned down to press your lips into his. 

it was odd because eddie pictured this moment just like this, with you straddling him in just shorts and a loose fitting tank, watching your soft lips come closer to his with your eyes closed. you were so fucking cute, and he tried to constrain himself from going wild by digging into your skin. 

the kiss was soft first, eddie let you move your lips on his before he found a rhythm and moved with you, gentle, soft, teasing kisses to test the waters. you were growing wet with every minute you fixed your lips to his, using one hand to put right under his jaw, rubbing his throat with your fingers. 

you thought maybe eddie was just enjoying the kiss way too much as you got a little more messy, the two of you giving hard kisses, but the minute you felt something poking your inner thigh, you realized you had been grinding down on him the entire time. 

you pulled away first, leaving him just as breathless as you, but he followed you and sat up with you, chasing your lips. he had a dumb grin on his face, looking over your disheveled look to see where you two met. god, she looks fucked out already. 

“eddie?” you hummed, letting your fingers trace the small tattoos and the ones that lead to his manhood. 

“fuck, yes baby?” he breathed and watched you take your plush lip between your teeth and sit back fully on his clothed cock. he let out a strained groaned and it brought a smile to your face. 

“can i suck your dick?,” you asked unabashedly, “i’ve always wanted to, wanted to taste you,” 

eddie was practically already close to exploding in his pants, and you felt the throbbing of his cock against your ass now that he’s fully hard. you were sure that a wet stain would be left on his light colored pajama pants.

“you can do whatever you want with me doll, i’m for your pleasure,” he said as he watched you slide back down between his knees, eddie spreading them so you had more room to lay between him, and you rubbed at the skin above the hem of his pants to admire the growing bulge that was asking for relief, pleading. 

“you’re so fucking pretty, baby, can’t fuckin’ believe i could’ve had you since the beginning,” he said in a hushed voice. 

you didn’t take long to drag his pants down to his ankles letting eddie kick them off as your eyes stayed pointed at his cock. it looked almost painful, for you and him. he was throbbing, his cock jerking against his abdomen. you salivated, looking at him as you grabbed his shaft at the base and softly stroked him lazily, looking at every vein, every little freckle, and the waay his slit dripped with beads of pre cum. 

it was a sight to see. you heard eddie’s low moans as he sat up against the headboard, getting a view of you jerking him. 

“you’re dick is so pretty,” you murdered as you watched your fingers tease his slit to use the precum as some sort of lubricant, massaging the head. he let you take full control of him, and the way he tries to buck into your fist made your cunt clench around nothing. 

“baby, please,” he begged as you kept your lazy pace up. he was craving your mouth and before he could ask again, you directed his tip into your mouth to let your tongue swirl and play with the angry head. 

“ah, fuck-shit,” he hissed, finally feeling your mouth envelop him entirely, not faltering when you tried to stuff as much of his as you possibly could. you hollow your cheeks as you sucked him gently twice, releasing him with a pop, and smiling. 

he was focused on only you, not the laughter that came from downstairs, not the crickets singing outside of the window, only the way you went back down to take him in your mouth, reaching the back of your throat this time and gagging. 

“my fuck- fuck oh my god,” he strained, letting his hands find your hair to get a better view of your face. 

“so fucking good, taking my dick so well baby,” he praised and you moaned with your mouth still taking all of him, keeping the steady pace of bobbing, up and down his shaft with a hand wrapped around his girth, following the same motion of your mouth. 

it was a euphoric feeling eddie had, to see his crush be the one to take, or try to take all of him. the girl he’d dream about, think about going down on, was laying between his legs playing with his cock like it is your favorite thing to do. 

and slowly, it was becoming your favorite thing. your air was coming in through your nostrils as you cupped his balls, using the slobber that was falling down his cock to massage and fondle them as you flattened your tongue under the base of his shaft, forcing yourself to take all of him. he was trying to cover his moans with pants, but it wasn’t happening.. 

“fuck, just like that, you’re fucking filthy,” he said sitting up fully now so the top of your head was touching his belly button, still letting your drool and spit create a mess under your hands. you were loving this even when your jaw was crying, you liked being the center of attention for eddie. 

you released him again with a long string of spit connecting from your lips to the head of his cock, sitting up on your knees to become eye level with him, still using the spit to jerk him. your grip tightened, loosened, and teased around his red tip to watch his buck, and jerk his body to you. 

“need you to fuck me, please,” you asked politely, the spit still on your chin, your eyes watery and your nose a little runny. taking all of him was impossible for you, maybe with his help he’d be able to squeeze the rest of him down your throat to make room, but that was for another time. 

eddie’s eyes were on yours, then back between your two bodies to see how your hand worked against him, he felt the heat building up in his stomach, feeling the strings snapping with every stroke. 

before he could even release, he grabbed your wrist and halted your movements, using your vulnerability to flip you on your back, gripping your wrists beside your head. 

“so you do want me?” he queried, and you giggled. 

“no eddie, of course i don’t want you, i’m totally not soaking my panties right now,” you said unbelievably sarcastic as he moved to kiss your cheeks, your neck, licking your jawline and kissing you once more on your lips before he straddle you. 

“you’re gonna lay there, your hands up just like this, and you’re gonna be a good girl and take it, yeah?” he shifted, his voice dark and his eyes pitch black as he grinds his naked cock into your thin shorts. 

“eddie,” you pleaded, not wanting to keep your arms in the fixed position he held them in. 

“need you out of these fucking clothes now,” he said and immediately yanked your shorts and panties down, moving to your shirt. 

“take it off for me,” he encouraged and you did, reaching your tank and arching your back to get rid of it. he marveled at your complete nakedness, spreading your legs to situate himself between them. lifting your legs in the air while spreading them, eddie leaned back to take a mental picture of the way your pussy was dripping for him. slick sliding between the cheeks of your ass, over your hole and onto the bed sheets. 

“this all for me? no one else?” he asked as he tugged on his cock, stroking himself. 

“yes, you, only you, please,” you were bracing for the impact of his hardness pressing and stretching you out, but instead you felt the pads of his fingers trace down your tits, to your belly, to your fupa, and spreading the fat of your pussy lips to see all of you completely.

what he conjured up in his mind was nothing near the actual sight. it was breathtaking, the way your hair fell into a ring around your head, how your tits moved and jumped with every movement you made, the way your belly creased and curved with your legs mid air, the way your thighs looked so meaty with his inbetween. this was heaven, and you were god. 

he watched you completely as he sat back on his achilles, your legs still spread for him like the good girl you were, and teasing your clit. 

“i need to taste you,” eddie groaned, taking the wetness from your clenching hole up to your clit, rubbing smooth circles. 

“eddie, no fuck, please i wanna be full, please,” you moaned, louder than you intended, “you’re just so fucking big, and fucking pretty i just need t’ feel you, need all of you please eddie, give it to me,” 

he’d never seen you so fucking responsive, so vocal with him. he was remembering the way your voice dripped with urgency, and seduction. he couldn’t ever tell you no, even in circumstances of being fully clothed and feet away from each other. 

“just a taste, please baby,” he bargained, too distracted with the way your cunt sounded as he plays with your pussy. he was teasing your hole at this point, threatening to let you feel the stretch of one finger until he got too impatient to wait for your answer. he quickly dove down onto his stomach, letting his arms hook around your thighs and latching onto your cunt like a fucking bottle. 

“you-what the fu-, my god,” you tried to spit it out, but fuck his tongue swirling around your clit and the way his fingers kept your lips spread made you grind against his hand, moving your hands from where eddie told you to keep them and into his curly hair before he pulled up and landed a small slap on your pussy. he watched in enjoyment as it jiggled. 

“what’d i tell ya, keep those fucking hands right there baby, be good for me yeah?” he breathed, going back down to lay on his stomach, arms hooked even tighter now. Your hands were thrown up above your head, gripping onto the edge of the bed to stop yourself from yanking his long hair. 

“eddie, please, fuck,” you moaned out, the feeling of his finger inching inside you was a fucking tease. 

“shit, didn’t know you’d be this tight for me, needa stretch you a little bit, that okay?” 

“yes, fuck eddie it’s okay, just, fuck i need more,” you found yourself out of breath, eddie’s arm reaching from your thigh to toy with your nipple, watching every reaction he pulled from you. 

“pretty fucking pussy baby, look at you, taking my fingers so good for me,” he continued with the praises, the small words as he released your clit to focus on the way you were sucking his fingers, your walls gripping him tight. 

“fuck baby, cum for me, need to taste more of you,” he groaned, unable to help himself when his puts you back into the position of having your calves resting on his shoulders. until he folds you even more with his large hands, to where your knees are touching your shoulders, or at least as far as he could bend you to his preferred shape with your belly in the way. but he liked it, he loved seeing you so mendable for him, pushing your limits of how much you can take. 

he wanted you to be pon full display for him, being able to see both holes shine with your wetness.he practically held your ankles bound together to push against your chest, going back down for the third time to watch your cunt spread for him like this, to watch how you leaked down to your asshole. 

he licked a wide stripe from your clit to your asshole, licking and spitting on your tight hole to start rubbing his thumb to create a ring of spit on it. 

“tell me you want me, princess,” he ordered, eyes trained on the sight in front of him. 

“eddie i want you, fuck, fu-,” you breathed and tried to gasp for air, “need it,” 

“so good baby, look at you holding those pretty legs for me, let me eat you right,” you didn’t even notice your hands went from the edge of the bend to your legs, holding yourself spread open just for him. If anyone walked in right now, they’d see everything. 

the way you were laid for him made you wetter by the second, never being folded or manhandled this way, but as he grabs the cheeks of your ass to move and spread them, he spits on your cunt again and goes back to brutally assaulting your oversensitive bud. 

that pressure on your spine was familiar, and the way you felt tingles spread from your inner thighs to the rest of your body, even your legs going weak as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. it was beautiful, mesmerizing even the way he ate your pussy. it was pornographic, the slurping and wet sounds were only growing louder as eddie shook his head, his ose rubbing against your clit when he goes to lick and fuck your hole with his tongue at the same time. 

“i’m, cum, gonna-fuck eddie, im fuck-” you couldn’t even get it out before your eyes were clenched, your pussy pulsing and throbbing, pushing all of your release out of your hole where eddie was to lick up every drop.

the moans were eccentric, he’d never heard you this way and seeing you come undone because of him made his cock scream for touch. it was something he could listen to for hours, only wanting to finger fuck you and eat your sweet cunt just so he could listen to the little noises that made him feral.

“need to feel you sweet girl, let me fill this pussy,” he lets your legs fall from where they rested after you went slack during your orgasm, letting your feet plant on the bed bent at the knees. 

“can’t fucking  think when you’re looking at me like that, princess, do you want me to cum already?” he smiled, watching you watch him with pure adoration and desire, not seeing him as a freak or a lowlife.  

he saw your softness in your eyes, soothing a part of him that has never been healed until now. 

“please, eddie i want you to make me cum again,” you gasped, lifting your head a little to look over your stomach as much as you can, now letting your eyes lazily travel between eddie’s eyes and where he prodes your entrance with his tip. 

he took pride in the way he made you feel, how you looked sweaty and cockdrunk already. he couldn’t get enough of your frizzy hair surrounding you, and the smell of your shampoo mixing with sweat. 

“can’t believe you want me, you’re unbelievable,” he said, letting his cock slip between the fat of your pussy lips. he wanted to be covered in you, all of you. 

“you’re so big, eddie,” you groaned, feeling his length slip back and forth between your wetness. 

“you want it, baby? want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” he asked, his palm flat against the bed next to your head, gripping his manhood with the other. 

“fuck eddie, yes i need it, need all of you fuck,” you cried, gripping thr back of his neck to lift your head a little, watching your hips try to pushed down on him. 

“let me watch you take it, yeah? wanna see you stretch just for me, only for me,” 

he sat up on his knees and spread your legs, lifting them to rest on his shoulders as he admired your glistening sex. every part of you felt like you were burning up, all of your nerves subsiding and turning into pure greed for him, your want stronger than anything else. 

he pushed in slowly, softly, watching the fat head slip and disappear into your tight hole. 

“holyfuckingshit,” he rushed, watching you take him with a little resistance. it felt like a sting, but spreading into pleasure when you feel his balls against your asshole, filling you up completely. 

now, he pressed into your legs to fold you again, this time he was able to watch you and force you to see him as he ruined you for anyone else. 

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” he was out of breath already, the few slow strokes he did to the sound of your moans were to stretch you enough for him to lose control on you. 

“so, f-, so fucking big,” you almost felt the wind get knocked out of you as you feel the loss of his warmth and length, only to be pushed back into you with more force. hitting the back of your cervix repeatedly, he was lazily smiling at the sounds you were making for him. 

“oh baby, there you go, sound so fucking pretty for me,” he encouraged, letting his arms hook around your thighs for more leverage. he pushed you up a little further, almost bringing your chest to your chin as he pounded you harder. 

“e-eh, fuck, eddie, s’ lot- it’s, oh eddie,” you cried watching him, grinning with an open mouth as he pants out groans and moans from the way you gripped his cock. felt better than anything and anyone he’s ever fucked. 

“what, too much for my pretty girl? what happened?” he cooed, “thought you were, fucking hell, thought you could handle it,” he teased, taking your legs from his shoulders and using his hands to grip at your ankles, spreading further so that your legs are flailing in the air as he fucks you. 

it was fucking intense. you couldn’t make sense of anything but him buried inside you, the way your cunt twitched and squeezed around him, and just how close you were to another orgasm. 

“fuck, this pussy is mine.” he growled, gripping the fat of your stomach and waist, massaging, “always gonna be mine, sweet baby.” 

“tell me, sweetheart . tell me whose pussy this is and i’ll, jesus fucking christ,” he was cut off by the clenching of your cunt, your hole rapidly pulsing as his two fingers dove down to play with your clit, rubbing in lazy fast circles. 

“i’ll let you cum, tell me baby,” he urged and you tried to form the words, but nothing but sounds were coming out. the way your breasts jumped with every hard thrust, the way your fat jiggled on your thighs and tummy, how smooth and warm you felt under him, he was losing his mine. 

not to mention your little sounds. the whimpers, the silent begging, the cries and gasps for air, it was going straight to his cock that was already starting to twitch from your eyes on him. 

“it’s yours eddie, only you fill me up like this, please,” you finally mustered up the words, and you felt your own ball in your tummy growing bigger and bigger with the way you obsered eddie. 

out of breath, his hair was clinging to his sticky face and his silver chains he never took off dangled above you. you watched as his muscles flexed and gripped the hard biceps when he pulled you in for an embrace, holding you as he fucked you. 

your forehead rested against his right shoulder, peeking down to watch the sloppy mess between you grow wetter and messier. he looked down with you, pressing kisses into your damp hair and face. 

“look at that baby, creamin’ all on my dick, my fucking messy girl,” he was aggressive, more aggressive than you’d ever seen him and so much more filthy than anyone could comprehend. 

“look so good, fucking me,” you whispered, not even trying to get him to hear but he did. and he was encouraged by it, looking down again as he heard your labored pants in his ear. it was a beautiful sight. 

your pussy lips enveloped him completely, letting his length reach the deepest parts of you over and over again. your arousal was dripping down your ass even more now that the two of your juices were mixing together, and forming a white-ish ring around his cock. and it just kept building with every thrust, sending your pussy to clench around him again. 

your head was completely empty, nothing but the sensation of being filled to the brim over and over. it was incredible, and having already reached your peak once, to do it again was going to ruin you. 

he was already ruining you, the way he turned so dirty so fast, how he spoke to you and watched you completely. he took all of you in as much as he could and let himself watch you undo beneath him. 

“cum on my dick, baby,” he said, “pussy feels so fucking good sweet girl, don’t wanna fuckin’ pull out,” he sounded like he was slurring, and his fingers went faster on your overstimulating bud. 

he felt the clench of your cunt at his words. “aw you like that? wanna be full of me? give you my babies?” 

it was impossible not to scream no, tell him that mentioning babies was practically a threat to you, but the way he moaned those words as his hand went up to your throat just to grab a hold of you, and his other started to toy with your nipples. 

“eddie,” you dragged, crying out with your back arching when you felt your buildup finally crash over him. you didn’t even need to tell him, he could feel it by the way you twitched and how you clenched so hard you practically pushed him out of you. 

“fuck baby,” he said as he fucked your hole with his tip, the feeling of the curve and edge of the fat cockhead was a different sensation, and as he kept fucking you like that, slow and soft, you felt an oddity in your new buildup. 

it was faster, stronger, and as he teased your hole with just his tip, you were cumming again, but this time it was wet. you could heard the small gush over his cock, coating him and his pelvic bone as he gleamed at the sight below him and feeling his own release starting to snap. 

“fuck, eddie please, you fuck me so good,” you breathed as you pulled him flush to your chest, letting him still slip in and out of you lazily. 

“fill me, please, fuck i don’t care i need it, mark me, make me yours. please, its your pussy please cum inside of me,” you whispered in his ear in a cry, scratching down his pale back as he moaned against you. the vibrations of his noises sent a tingle all over your body, your nipples hardening again. 

the thought of eddie getting you pregnant was intense. for you at least, for eddie, he thought it was the best decision to ever make. of course he’d fill you up. why would he have the opportunity and not take it? he wanted everyone to see you knocked up with the freak’s baby, he wanted everyone to know even if you were too smart and too goddess looking for him, he had you. 

it was even sending another pulse to your cunt, letting your weak and abused hole tiredly clench on his. you were losing your breath at this point, you’d never been fucked and pleasured like this ever, never for this long either. 

he made sure to worship you, to cherish you, to make you feel sexy. he wanted to make you see what he saw, make you feel the way you made him feel. and this was it. 

he was falling in love with you, the way he felt like you were made for him even now was pulling at his insides, pulling hard enough to finally let him still his hips inside of you and letting his cock twitch at the deepest part of your cunt. 

“fucking, mine. my fucking pussy,” he groaned into your chest, your hands gripping in his hair and rubbing on his scalp. 

“s’ yours, only yours,” you said softly as you felt his cock twitch even more, until he groaned and slipped out of you. 

it was a new feeling, still feeling full even though all contact was lost between you two. still feeling warmth inside your cunt, until you felt the mixture of both of your releases leaking out of your hole and sliding down your ass. your eyes were closed after he got off of you, and you weren’t sure how he put on his clothes so fast but when the door opened again you saw him walk back in with a wet rag. 

“baby?” he asked, craning his neck to see your face in the dark. 

“mmm?” you hummed, still laying on your back after turning your head back to the ceiling. 

“let me clean you up and we can go to bed, does that sound good princess?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed to separate your legs again. 

you expected to feel the coldness of the rag, but you instead felt his fingers softly spreading your pussy lips apart and it sent a chill through you. 

“look so good like this, fuck, i think i really truly want to die by your pussy. please?” he said, letting his finger dip his cum back inside of your whole. 

“eddie,” you dragged, clenching your thighs together. he just smiled and chuckled a little. 

“alright, lets get cleaned up and you can take my shirt,” 

you lay there, trusting eddie as your eyes fluttered closed and felt him wipe between your legs and wipe your thighs, finding his shirt that he threw on a chair in the corner to bring back to you, but he already hears the soft snores coming from your body. 

he shook you a little before you finally opened your eyes again and smiled sheepishly at him, before listening to his commands and following them, still half asleep. 

all he asked was that you sit up and raise your arms, and he tugged the faded iron maiden shirt that was too big for him, but fitting just loose enough on you. before he could even pull the covers over you, still with your eyes closed, you gripped the blankets and pulled them over your bare legs up to your chin, and nestled into the softness. 

eddie was a man who did his fair share of sleeping around, with all types of people, and he’s been with older, smaller, skinnier, taller, bigger. but being with you, watching you and being able to sleep next to you was a fucking blessing he didn’t deserve. 

so he indulged in it, letting himself wrap you in his arms and holding you until you push him off because you’re too sweaty. 

but you don’t do that. you let eddie hold you all night even after hardly any words were exchanged after. and in your dream that night besides dreaming about your future with eddie, was a dream of you thanking robin and steve for their ridiculously foul plan. 

a ridiculous foul plan that worked. 

[addisonroad]

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[cutelycovered]

Trendy Plus Size Clothing for Women's Evolution: Embracing Style and Confidence

The fashion industry has long faced criticism for its lack of diversity in a society where beauty standards are frequently determined by narrow glasses. Because beauty has always been portrayed along a limited range, many women have felt excluded and disadvantaged. But there has been a noticeable change in the fashion industry recently toward diversity and inclusivity, especially when it comes to Trendy Plus Size Clothing.

The days of finding fashionable, figure-flattering apparel in larger sizes are long gone. Today, plus-size fashion has experienced a remarkable transition, giving a wide range of options that cater to varied body types and personal styles, owing to the hard work of activists, designers, and influencers.

Fit and comfort are now prioritized in the plus-size fashion market, which is one of the biggest shifts in the sector. The creation of apparel that feels comfortable to wear in addition to being aesthetically pleasing is currently a top priority for designers. Stretchy and breathable fabrics are preferred because they provide increased comfort and mobility without compromising style.

Furthermore, the idea that plus-size clothing is only practical or utilitarian has been contested. Plus-size ladies are requesting apparel that captures their individuality and fosters artistic expression. Consequently, there has been a surge in stylish and cutting-edge options available in larger sizes, encompassing everything from statement-making jumpsuits and vivid designs to sophisticated dresses and fitted blazers.

An other noteworthy advancement in plus-size fashion is the growing representation of many body types in media campaigns and advertisements. Models of various shapes, sizes, and ages are being featured by brands instead of conforming to antiquated beauty standards, sending a strong message of empowerment and inclusivity. This change not only appeals to customers, but it also supports body positivity and challenges negative preconceptions.

The voices of plus-size women have been amplified, and social media has been instrumental in fostering a sense of community and solidarity. Social media sites like Instagram and TikTok have transformed into digital catwalks where people of all shapes and sizes can display their individual looks and motivate others. By challenging the established quo in the fashion business and promoting size diversity through their platforms, plus-size bloggers and influencers have garnered substantial followings.

Moreover, the advent of internet shopping has completely changed how plus-size women can access fashion. Customers can peruse a wide range of apparel alternatives from the convenience of their homes with just a few clicks. Plus-size clothing retailers on the internet provide a wide selection of designs, sizes, and price ranges to suit a wide range of interests and preferences.

Even with these advancements, it's critical to recognize that there is still a long way to go until there is true inclusivity. Women who wear plus sizes still have difficulty finding clothes that fits well and is accessible in their size. It's still common for brands to have inconsistent sizes, which makes it challenging for customers to confidently navigate the plus-size clothes market.

Furthermore, plus-size women continue to be underrepresented in the high-end and luxury markets. Even while there has been progress, more diversity in advertising campaigns and on the runways is still needed to accurately represent the diversity and beauty of the plus-size population.

To sum up, the development of plus-size women's apparel is an important step in the direction of increased diversity and representation in the fashion industry. Celebrating size diversity and supporting women of all shapes and sizes has become increasingly important, moving beyond the acceptance of varied body types and the questioning of antiquated beauty standards.

It is crucial that we elevate the voices of trendy plus size clothing for women, back companies who value diversity, and fight for increased representation in the fashion industry as we continue to push for advancement and change. Regardless of size, we can work together to build a future where all women experience a sense of being seen, appreciated, and attractive.

[sammyboyimagines]

Billy Hargrove w/ Plus size!Reader Drabble

Pairing: Flustered!Billy Hargrove x Plussized!Reader

Summary: Billy can't find the words to say when he asks out his school crush.

//I just had this idea for flustered!billy and I couldn't get it out of my head so I had to write it down. Most of my fics are with more plus size women in mind but they could be read as non-plus size as well!

//I headcanon that Billy goes crazy over a chubby woman, like he can't find the words to say because you're just so captivating.

//i'm trying to find my way back to writing because i love it so much but school is so tiring. Taking requests just let me know and I'll try to write it!

Billy had never truly imagined himself with a woman like you. But from the moment you sat down next to him in math class with your bag plopped on the desk and your gorgeous curves hidden underneath your blue jeans and tank, he was positively hooked.

It didn't take but a week for Billy to feel intense longing for you. Not just for your body, but your presence. It was like every part, every word you spoke, was catered to him. You were perfect, and yet he was kicking himself for not chasing you down earlier.

Billy took an entire month to even mouth a word to you. He wanted to, oh so bad. But when your doe eyes flickered toward him in expectance, his brain melted into mush.

When Billy asked you out, it was a polar opposite from how he typically acted around his friends. You'd seen the antics he'd get up to, the way he'd do most anything to get a laugh out of his friends. But now, he couldn't even think of the right words to say.

"Would you-uh" He exhaled a short breath, his hands fidgeting with his belt loops as he spoke. "Ya' know, there's this new ice cream place that we could-" He chuckled sadly to himself. "I'm sorry, let me start over." Billy couldn't believe his stuttering. He'd never had issues asking a girl out, it became second nature once he moved to Hawkins.

His mind blanked on the words, completely enamored by the outfit you decided to wear that day. A simple pink skirt, the fabric just long enough to cover anything he'd dreamt about, but just enough for him to absentmindedly stare at your soft legs the entire duration of math class. Imagine his shock when you spoke up for him.

"I'd love to go out with you, Billy. Ice cream place, what time?" You accidentally snorted at the stupid look on Billy's face. It only made him adore you more.

"Uh-7! 7 works." Billy managed to speak. You nodded and swung your backpack over your shoulder, eyes meeting his as his mouth sat agape. Not only was this the first time he'd technically been asked out by a girl, but the girl was you.

"Alright, you'll pick me up?" You inquired, a beautiful smile spread across your face. Billy just nodded, shock slowly subsiding from his body.

"Good. Here's my address." Billy's breath hitched slightly when you grabbed his hand. Your soft hands cradled his as you wrote your address down on the palm of his hand.

He'd never wash his hand again if he could.

"See you then."

[sirfrogsworth]

I like wearing shorts with an elastic waist band. Since I am in bed most of the day, they are a comfy choice that I can also wear if I need to go out into the world.

Unfortunately I suffer from a serious medical condition called "Hank Hill Butt."

I'm afraid it is incurable.

Whenever I put my phone and wallet and keys into my pockets, my shorts slowly drift downward because of my HHB.

I don't want to wear pants with a belt. I like suspenders but they are always a pain if you have to pee.

So now that it is summer and I can't wear a jacket, I needed a solution to my pocket drag dilemma.

A backpack was overkill. I bought an over the shoulder sling bag, but the one I ordered was basically a small backpack. It had way too many zippers and pockets. I did not have quick access to my phone. Plus the strap was not made for a barrel-chested fella like myself. Very tight fit.

I then thought about Indiana Jones and his little satchel for stealing artifacts from indigenous people.

That's what I wanted. Just a small bag with one flap that is quick and easy to open. But maybe not quite so big. Maybe half that size would be perfect.

I searched all over Etsy for pouches and satchels and I found some contenders.

I tried all sorts of search terms on Amazon as well.

It wasn't until I tried "leather phone purse" that I found what I was looking for.

May I present to you my Indiana Jones-style manly-looking women's phone purse.

The strap fits great and isn't too tight. All of my essentials fit and I can access them quick and easy due to the magnetic clasp. And I got a little clip so I can attach my keys to the side. That way they don't scratch up my phone screen or anything. I can also unlock the car or pop the trunk without digging them out of the purse.

It took me two weeks to figure this out. And I was so proud of my solution that I had to share it with the world.

[hilarychuff]

Chrissy hesitates while getting dressed Thursday morning. She’s got her uniform on, her cheer cardigan too, but when she looks at herself in the mirror, she half wants to shrug the sweater off. Hang it back up in her closet. She won’t be swapping it out for Jason’s letterman after first period today. What would happen if she just… left it at home. Maybe, if she gets cold, someone else will let her borrow their jacket for the day. She wonders if Jason would offer. Would he insist? Can’t have my girl looking cold, Chris, she imagines in his voice. I know it’s game day, but here, you should take it. Maybe it wouldn’t be like that, though. Maybe it would be the opposite. Baby, how am I supposed to feel you cheering me on all day long if I don’t have my jacket? Plus, you know all the guys are wearing theirs. It’s good for team unity, and I have to set the right example as captain. I thought you girls were wearing your sweaters today. She half entertains the idea of sneaking into her father’s room to borrow one of his sport coats. What would Robin think if she showed up in a blazer of her own? Or could Chrissy maybe not pull it off the same as Robin does? Robin always looks so cool and effortless in her outfits, like putting them together comes as naturally to her as breathing. Her style is so — her own compared to most of the other girls at Hawkins High. Maybe if Chrissy tried to copy it, she’d just look exactly like she would be: a little girl playing dress up in her father’s closet. Maybe she could squeeze into one of PJ’s. His size probably isn’t so different from hers. As long as he has something that fits over her shoulders, it wouldn’t matter too much if the arms were a little short. She could roll the sleeves to her elbows the same way Robin usually does. Chrissy doesn’t typically wear anything tight, though. Her own sense of style tends to favor a looser fit, her closet full of long cardigans and pleated pants, structured jumpsuits and billowy dresses that can be belted in at the waist. Her mom would call those sorts of items forgiving. Things that can change with or hide her fluctuating weight. It also tends to mean it’s less noticeable when her mother buys her clothes a size too large or decides she’s gained another few pounds and takes it upon herself to let out all the seams. Oh. Her mother. Her mother would never let her leave the house in something like that. Not ladylike enough. Of course, it’s one thing to wear her boyfriend’s jacket at school, but it’s another to include men’s clothing as part of her regular wardrobe. And it’s not like she’d be able to hide it from her parents. Even if she managed to sneak into someone else’s closet without being discovered, she couldn’t just stuff a blazer into her backpack and pull it out later. Not if she also wanted to fit any of her books in there. She’s pretty sure there isn’t a world where her mother would be swayed by any claims that it’s some sort of new trend either. Laura Cunningham always insists that truly well-dressed women always look timeless. Classic. They don’t chase trends that will look silly in pictures they’ll be showing their children one day. There’s no use, really, in trying to prepare for a conversation she’ll just lose. She keeps the cardigan on.

all the best people see you (all the best people know), chapter 8, a season 4 buckingham au

[nevermore-ocs]

Dravakin with a chubby fem reader maybe pls?

-Lemme start this full out, completely transparent and honest: Dravakin LOVES himself a big, plus-sized and chubby woman.

-He prefers it over anyone thinner, cause pushing it too far like that, to him, can just make a person appear unhealthy and too weak to go on. Having that certain agenda on women nowadays is something that he particularly loathes about the modern world.

-Being bigger will always be beautiful to him, and his love should never be ashamed of that, he'd happily go on for hours onto hours about just how effortlessly capable you are to felling a literal vampiric God-King simply by being.

-Proud and confident but not an asshole about it, Dravakin adores to show you off to the denizens of his domain, walking through the streets of Bludhaven, he holds out a bent arm for you to rest your hand on his bicep and grasp onto him for as long as you wish, always referring to you in the most painfully obvious in love tone he can muster as his wife/his mate whenever addressing you to someone, his, and his alone to have and hold and cherish till eternity itself is extinguished.

-Absolutely being betrothed to a king does result in being lavishly spoiled on a regular basis. However, it is, rather hilariously easy that noticeable portion of his gift giving to you consists of dresses that are, a couple sizes smaller than what you're used to, or if they are the correct size, they also show off more than you're used to as well - an exposed back, a deep v cut over the chest area, sheer sides.

-"You know, Drav, you can just like, ask me to wear smaller stuff if you're gonna keep sneaking stuff in like this, you dork-", "I have absolutely no idea whatsoever what you're talking about, my light-"

-The main reason, although, why he does gestures like that is because you deserve to feel beautiful, and gorgeous, as wondrously breath-taking as he always sees you. The last thing that he ever wants you to do is feel like you have to change yourself to fit the standards of other people who don't matter.

-Are you content with the size that you are? Then he will be your biggest fan in your corner that will be searing the heavens themselves with how much he'll be belting out. Do you want to lose weight? Then by all means, you have a personal coach in the shape of him, but he wants you to do it for you if that's what you wish, not for anyone else, not for your family, and certainly not for him, cause to him you're already perfect.

[nerdieforpedro]

Friends look out for friends right?

Chapter Two of Come live with me Angel Series

Benny Miller x Diana (plus size OFC)

This fic is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1908

Summary: Benny recalls how he and Diana first met. Living arrangements are discussed in addition to why Benny ended up in jail last night.

Warning: questionable karaoke choices, a few thots, Benny cooking, more pining, reference to a fight and jail

Notes: A slow burn with Friends to lovers. I enjoy writing them. I need to fit in tacos for @musings-of-a-rose just because. She knows why. 🤣

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist/ Come away with me Angel Series

Benny thought back to when he first met Diana while he cooked breakfast the next morning:

Six months ago at the Saucy Cantina. It was karaoke night and none of the guys would sing with him. He even chose ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ one that the four of them would know, but none of them would sing with him. He wasn’t sure if it was just the three beers he had but he wanted to belt out a tune. There were three women near the sing book when he walked over, two of them were looking at a Beyonce song - she doesn’t have a bad one so that’s a safe choice. But the third woman who’s dark hair touched passed her shoulders was studying a page intently. He tapped her shoulder and she looked up, her honey brown eyes stared at him and he watched her baby pink lips move as she spoke, “Yes, did you wanna see the book?” Benny shook his head and asked what song she was thinking of doing. “You’ll laugh, but I was thinking of ‘Rich Girl’ or ‘Diamonds.’” She said, setting her finger on each song.

“Those two are pretty different. I was thinking of a song too but my brothers over there are buzzkills and don’t wanna join me.” He grinned, his eyes a little glassy from the beer. She chuckled and nodded, explaining that she had been outvoted and it looked like her and her friends were going to be singing Beyonce tonight.

“We don’t have to sing what they want to you know. I’ll sing ‘Rich Girl’ with you if you’ll sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with me, Angel.” He offered a hand outstretched as he hopped up on stage. Fish tapped Pope and Will, pointing toward the small stage at the back of the bar. The woman who he would later come to know as Diana took his hand and hopped up on stage with him. Benny remembered that he didn’t let go of her hand the entire time on the stage as they sang the Hall and Oats song and danced, swaying their hips and stomping their feet in tune with the music. It earned them a standing ovation and they got a second when they finally sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in which there were some squeals because neither of them could hit those notes and they may have had a round of shots in between numbers. Benny invited all three girls over to the table and kept Angel as he called her, next to him as they chatted and drank. Will and Fish noticed how Benny kept holding onto her hand, like she might bolt, but she didn’t seem to mind. When the girls went to the bathroom, they teased him about getting a girlfriend of karaoke. Benny told them to shut it and that she was just really nice, but he knew then he wouldn’t be alright with not knowing her name and noting seeing her again.

Over the course of the night, he learned her name Diana and she told him his, Benjamin, but to please call him Benny, no one calls him his full name. They exchanged phone numbers and he made sure to text her to check if she got home okay and to see if she wanted lunch. One would have thought that he’s asked her out on a date but it wasn’t, just brunch. It was fun and no pressure. It helped a lot that Benny was a goofball and that Diana liked telling bad jokes. It’s been great for the last six months, towing the line between friends and something more and easy, so very easy.

This morning, Diana woke up and had a headache. What should she do? Moving in with her mother would be the more reasonable of the two options, but could she stand living with the woman again? Especially now that she was being effectively kicked out because her roommate found a man and she hadn’t.

Benny was up off the couch and had folded the blanket. He was making some eggs and toast when he saw Diana walk out in a loose black tank top and pink shorts that bunched between her legs from her thighs rubbing together. Her eyes were blurry and she rubbed them to adjust to the bright light. They went wide when she saw Benny in her kitchen, shirtless in his jeans and no socks, his hair was down and coasting along the back of his neck. She sometimes forgets how tall and broad he is. No…she knows. She tried to forget, because if she thinks about it, she do that before bed again.

“What the hell Benny..?”

“Damn Diana, that’s not what I expected. I thought I’d at least get a ‘thanks’ or a ‘good morning’, no hospitality.” He turned with a wide grin, holding a spatula in one hand. Diana cleared her throat and took a few steps forward on the cold floor to make sure she wasn’t having another dream about the younger Miller again. It turned out she was not and he really was making her breakfast in her apartment.

“I-I didn’t expect you to be making breakfast. Thank you. I was just surprised. I didn’t think you could cook.” Diana walked over and leaned on the counter, her breasts were pushed together from her crossed arms as she watched him scrambling eggs in her frying pan. “Did you want me to start some bacon or toast?” She asked, Benny turned to answer her but was greeted by her ample cleavage that was exposed. Toward the scoop of her tank top, it looked like he might just be able to see the cusp of something. He’s not supposed to be thinking about that they’re friends. Benny wonders from time to time and feels guilty because of how close he keeps Diana. He swallowed the spit that had gathered in his mouth and nodded.

“Sure, make both. I’ll eat what you don’t. You like onions and peppers in your eggs right?” Benny asked, drizzling some on half of the eggs, Diana agreed and took out the bread and bacon to get started. The bacon she put between two paper towels and microwaved it while she plugged up the toaster to start on the bread.

“Benny, you take your toast like your hair?” She joked, he roared with laughed as he remembered first telling Diana that’s how he liked all his bread that wasn’t on a sandwich. He was finishing up the eggs while she made six pieces of toast and eight pieces of bacon. It was a lot of food, but after they sat down and split it up, Benny and Diana scarfed all of it down along with two glasses of water each. They sat at the table relaxing because they were both full. Diana decided to ask first.

“Benny, are you going to tell me why you were arrested last night? You told me you hadn’t had any issues with the law for a couple years. There had to be-”

“You really wanna know Angel? Then if I tell you, you need to move in with me.” Diana opened her mouth to protest but Benny held up his hand. “You’re gonna say no, but you know you and your mom are like oil and water. Also you can pay me rent if it makes you feel better. I’d rather you didn’t though. You’re my friend.”

You’re my friend.

Diana realized that the only one stressing about being in close quarters with Benny was her. It would be the better and cheaper choice. She’d just have to keep her wits about her and gawk at him…too much.

“Fine Benny, I’ll move in with you. I haven’t found another place besides my mom’s anyway. Now will you tell me why I had to get you from county last night?”

“You know that bar we go to often, right? I was drinking after a fight. May have lost, not a big deal. Point is, we were laughing and joking it was all good.” Benny leaned forward with both elbows on the table, his muscles taut. Diana wants to tell him to sit back or throw a blanket on so she won’t stare.

“I know the bar, yes.” She tilts her head, confused about where this is going. “If things were good, why were you in jail?”

“That bastard said, anyway. He said something he shouldn’t have. I showed him he should keep his mouth shut.” Benny shook his head and stood up from the table taking both plates and silverware over to the sink. Diana sighed following him and had her hands on her hips.

“Benjamin Miller tell me what he said. Now.” Her lips pressed together, and he knew her bottom lip had likely poked out. “Was it really that serious to where you needed to injure three men? I mean I’ve heard all sorts of things said-“

“I don’t care what you might have heard in the past but no one’s going to talk about you like that! Not while I’m breathing.” Turning toward her, his face was red as he chewed on his cheek. “He asked me how you were in bed because he was sure you were enthusiastic and loud since you sing so well. I told him to shut the fuck up and he followed it up with…it doesn’t matter. I should have made it so his jaw would be wired shut.” Benny tossed the dirty spatula in the sink and started running water in a large bowel, pouring in some soap to start washing. “You dry Diana.”

“Anything any drunk idiot says you shouldn’t listen to Benny. He’s an asshole. Don’t go to jail again. He and no other asshole is worth it.” Diana took the spatula and two forks to dry and put them to the side to put away.

“I’m not letting some douchebag think it’s fine to talk about you any kind of way Di, I’m not. I’ll try and stay out of jail. I can’t promise not to fight for you.” Washing the two plates, Benny handed them to Diana and watched as she bumped the drawer closed with her hip and leaned on her tip-toes to put away the plates after drying them. He found himself laughing to which she whipped the dishtowel at him.

“If I move in with you, you can’t be going back to jail Benny. I’m serious.”

“I am too.” Diana knows how serious he is which is a blessing and a curse. There’s always assholes that will say all sorts of things. Thankfully Benny was alright but what happens if he gets a longer sentence. Maybe he somehow thinks he won’t. They’re going to have to agree to disagree. “One other thing though Angel,”

“What now Benny? You gonna fight the cabinet for being too tall for me?”

“No. We need to go get my jeep from the bar. Then we can start moving your stuff today.” Whipping his hands on his jeans, he walks over to the couch and gets his shirt and slips it on. “Grab your keys.”

“I don’t leave the house in my sleep clothes Benny. Give me five minutes.” Rolling his eyes, he watches Diana make her way into the bedroom and close her door to get dressed. She may have fussed at him, but she was still moving in.

Goal accomplished

Notes on Benny’s guitar 🎸: @tinytinymenace @laurfilijames @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @megamindsecretlair @gwendibleywrites

[plasticsurgeryworld]

7 stars who prove that you don't have to follow stylists' advice to look luxurious

Jennifer Lopez: after 40 years, you need to replace tight-fitting dresses with looser-fitting ones, as the former emphasize even minor flaws

Ashley Graham: in shoes with a pointed toe, legs look visually fuller and shorter, so plus-size girls are better off choosing models with a round toe

Christina Hendricks: those with large busts should be wary of draping in the chest area, because folds, frills and ruffles add volume

Salma Hayek: spaghetti straps look disproportionate on ample breasts

Vanessa Hudgens: wide belts distort the proportions of those with short stature

Jessica Chastain: burgundy “blurs out” red-haired beauties

Eva Longoria: a voluminous jacket on short women “eats” centimeters of height and shortens the torso

It takes a lot of courage to go against established norms. But celebrities are not interested in it. They not only break fashion taboos, but also skillfully wear anti-trend items.