#plussized reader

[holylulusworld]

BFG (1)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: size kink, flirty reader, objectification of Reacher, language

BFG masterlist

“Fuck me, that guy could break me into two halves,” you sigh dreamily as the new face in town steps into the diner. “What a man.”

You lick your lips. He’s tall, and you mean tall when you say it. If anyone wants you to guess, you’d say he’s at least 6’5.

“Y/N, what was the price of the peach pie again?” The new waitress asks. She’s pretty and friendly but her memory is not the best.

Maybe she just smokes too much weed. You don’t blame her. This sleepy little town does this to you. If you don’t take drugs or drink, you spend the time dreaming of a different life.

You sigh again, this time out of frustration because you must take your eye off the thick hottie and turn your attention toward Sally Ann, the new waitress.

“It’s…” You tell her the price while dipping your head to glance at the newbie's ass when he passes the counter by. “Damn him, he’s thick too. What do you weigh, baby? Two hundred and fifty pounds?”

“Miss,” Sally Ann almost whimpers when this mountain of a man asks her about the peach pie. She looks a little lost, and you gladly jump in to turn his attention toward you.

“You can come over here,” you tap the counter. “This spot looks like you’ll fit in.” You grin as he chuckles at your bad joke about his size. “The seat is extra-large. One of our regulars needed a little extra space and cushion.”

“I guess he was tall too,” He asks while plopping down on the larger seat. The seat creaks under his weight and you hope he didn’t break it. Even though, you wouldn’t mind if he tries to break you.

“In size, not height,” you shrug. “That’s what I heard. This was before my time, and he died some years ago. This means, the seat is all yours now, sweetie.”

“Sweetie,” his laughter is deep and rich as he tries to not blush at your flirty banter. “No one ever called me sweet.”

“What a shame,” you pat his hand. Fuck. It looks like his hand is as big as one of your plates. “So, tell me,” you lean closer to whisper, “are you a BFG or are you a bad guy.”

“BFG?” He cocks his head. “Oh…” He chuckles again. “I’m friendly, don’t worry. I only get mad if you want to…”

“Fuck with you?” You cockily reply and mirror his smirk. “Hmm…I don’t think you could handle me, sweetie. I’m too much of a woman for most of the guys in town.”

His eyes scan your body at your words. He hums and drops his eyes to your ass. “I can handle any situation.” His face remains stoic, but his eyes give his dirty thoughts away. “Can I have a slice of the peach pie, ma’am?”

“Only if you never call me ma’am again,” you point a manicured finger at the giant. “People called my granny ma’am.”

“You don’t look like a granny to me,” he waves his huge hand to brush your concern off. “More like you are stranded in a place you don’t belong.” Ah, he tries to analyze you while checking your ass and tits out. “You’re not here for long.”

“Just like you,” you wink at him. “I’ll get you your pie now, and you better eat it up. It’s the best in town.”

“I bet he can break a bone only by grabbing you too hard,” Sally Ann watches the newbie eat his pie. “I wouldn’t want him to touch me. He looks like a brute.”

“No, sweetie,” you let your eyes wander from his broad shoulders, down to his wide back and further to his perfect ass, “he’s the kind of guy knowing how to handle a woman. I don’t think he underestimates his strength. The only problem is, he’s too big for my bed.”

“What?” Sally Ann squeaks. “Don’t tell me you want to take him home.”

“I’d take him anywhere he wants to go,” you nonchalantly admit. “It’s been ages since a real man tried to put his hands on me. This man over there has hands as big as our plates. He knows how to touch a woman.”

You bite your lower lip when he dips his head to look at you. He smirks and lifts the now empty plate. “Can I have another one?”

God, how you love a man who can eat. “Sure, sweetie,” you make your way toward him, swaying your hips on purpose. He glances at Sally Ann who looks a little scared. “How do you like your pie? Do you want some whipped cream too?”

He shrugs. “I’m not picky.”

“You can be picky,” you wink at him. “I won’t let you leave this town hungry and unsatisfied.”

His eyes darken at your words. “What can you recommend? What’s your specialty?”

“I asked you first,” you hold out your hand. “I’m Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Reacher,” he gruffly replies, but his hand takes yours. It’s huge in contrast to your hand, but warm and surprisingly gentle. “I’m here for…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” You hastily say. “I know you are not the kind of man answering questions. If you promise me to not cause trouble at the diner, you are always welcome here.”

“I can’t promise to not cause trouble but,” he squeezes your hand, “I promise that I’ll try not to cause trouble at your diner.”

“You know that this is my diner? How?”

“Sally Ann over there and the other waitresses always look at you for confirmation. The guests show more respect to you, and you don’t keep the tips. You put the money into the tip jar the waitresses share at the end of their shift.”

“You’re quite observant, Reacher.”

“I assume you took over the diner from your,” he searches your face. “Grandmother not so long ago. You still try to figure things out, but your pie tastes great.”

“She died six months ago. Granny left me her house, and the diner,” you sigh, and drop your gaze. “I left my well-paid job, and life behind. She was always good to me, and I didn’t bring it over me to sell the diner.”

“What was your job?” You’ve got the feeling the conversation turned out to be an interrogation.

“Aw, sweetie,” you wink at him, “if you want to know more about me, buy me dinner first.”

He watches you walk away, wondering if you have anything to do with the crime he investigates. Reacher shakes his head. No. You don’t look like a killer. And he doesn’t think for one second that you can break a guy’s neck.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Sally Ann asks. She’s still intimidated by Reacher’s size or rather his cheer presence at the diner.

“Where’s Y/N?” He cocks his head to look for you.

“I don’t know. She looked pissed and went to the back entrance.”

“I-“ he gets his wallet out to throw money onto the counter. Reacher follows you out of the back entrace, searching for you.

“Whoa, watch your step,” you push your hands against his firm chest to stop him from running the poor dog over. “Hey, that’s his spot. You are not allowed to leave through this entrance.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. He's relieved that you are not on the run, because you are the killer. “I was looking for you. I didn’t want to piss you off asking about your job.”

“Huh? I didn’t leave because you asked me about my job,” you point out. “I saw that bastard from across the street chase this poor guy away. He was only looking for food.”

“Someone tried to hurt the dog?” He squares his jaw. “Who? What did they do?”

You crouch down to add water to the feeding bowl. “The owner of the fancy new restaurant across the street. He always shoos away the kids and pets. I don’t like that man.”

“Restaurant across the street. Got it,” he looks like he makes a mental note. “Is that little boy your dog?”

“He only comes around to get free food,” you smile as the stray feasts on the food you bought for him. “I wanted to take him home, but I guess he likes his freedom. He checks in once in a while to let me know he’s still alive.”

“A stray,” Reacher watches you pat the dog. “Maybe he’s scared of settling down. Someone must’ve chased him away before.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully and pat the dog’s head. “I only want to protect him. If he runs around town the guy from across the street will hurt him.”

“He won’t.” You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder. “I got a few things to take care of in town. Do you know a cheap motel?”

“I got a spare room I rent out,” you hastily say. “I mean, you could have it. It has got a bathroom too. You can use the kitchen if you clean it afterward. If you help me repair the sink, you can have it for free.”

He nods and holds out his hand to help you up. “I can’t tell you when I’ll be around.”

“Don’t worry,” you grab his hand to write your address on his hand. “You can come around anytime.” His eyes widen when you put a key in his hand next.

“You trust me enough to hand me a key to your home?” He looks surprised. “You’re a little careless.”

“Believe me,” you pat his chest, “I’m not careless, nor dumb. I know exactly who I let inside my house.”

Reacher quirks a brow at your words but doesn’t ask what you mean. You turn your attention back toward the dog, and he’s got work to do.

He will start with the restaurant owner across the street.

Part 2

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[jakessbtch]

☆ party | j.g

masterlist | requests

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

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

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

requested by  ✿  ° : no-one​

word count   ✿  °   : 7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here, might help?”

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

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

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

“Sorry.” “Excuse me.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m going home.”

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

“Hey y/n/n! you alright?”

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

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

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

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

“What about me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you leave me Johnnie?”

“What?”

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

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

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

“Whoa, y/n... look- “

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n... come on, you- “

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

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

“So, you’re jealous?”

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

“I am not jealous.”

“Then why are you acting like this?!”

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

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

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

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

“What if I’m scared too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Woah.”

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

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

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

“’M sorry…”

“I didn’t like her.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry y/n/n.” I love you.

“I know. I love you too.”

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

[venting402]

need me a plus size fic where she knows EXACTLY what she does to people, more specifically super soldiers. stop with the self conscious/hate my body talk, I wanted her to flirt with these men for funzies but they come crawling to her on their hands and feet from pure desperation to get with a woman so fine and sure of herself, who embraces femininity and womanhood with grace.

my thought process is getting smutty real quick but I want the thousand word fics with angst. want the progression of her thought from going “he’s hot” to “he fits in well in the modern world men…mature…knows what he wants…worked on how modern world views operate compared to last century…oh my god I’m falling for him” LET ME SEE THEM

[mochminnie]

Lovin U Right 

What if Jeon Jungkook fall in love with a plus sized girl at a party who’s afraid of getting asked out???

(Gif from tumblr & Wallpaper/Cover from pinterest destiny and this is also uploaded on wattpad🖤��)

“Friends?! Just friends… I’ve been inside you.”

Jungkook: Sunshine, Himbo, Golden Retriever vibe Popular boy, very popular with the girls. Very experienced Playboy who loves a good party.  But turns out to be a hopeless romantic.

“Please! Hide me! Jungkook has been following me around like some puppy.”

Lizzie (Reader): Sweet yet sassy kind of a grump. Who doesn’t love huge parties. Inexperienced in relationships, who is nervous, uncomfortable in dating. Afraid of being asked out that’s she runs away. Curvous/Plus Sized MC

Setting: College Au

Tropes: Polar Opposites, Grumpy-ish x Sunshine, one night stand/fling situation

Warning: Sexual Themes, Fat shaming, College Partying, This isn’t going to be based off of Korean College more like Americanize based through Pop Culture references, Himbo like behavior of BTS. Bickering and physical attacks

Summary: Based off Jungkook’s Single ‘Seven’. BTS and many more Kpop idols will appear in this series. This will have no usage of your name or (y/n). The Main Character/Reader will be Plus Sized and her name is Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’. I’ll have an Original Character, Maru Face Claim: Devon Aoki. Jungkook who is life of a party, a total himbo that tries for 7 days to show you how much he loves you. Who doesn’t just want to get in your pants, wanting more than that. Himbo clingy JK wants to be loved, who wants your attention.

🎶Weight of the world on your shoulders I kiss your waist and ease your mind I must be favored to know ya I take my hands and trace your lines🎶

🎶Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday (A week) Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Seven days a week Every hour every minute every second You know night aftеr night I'll be  (Lovin’) fuckin' you right Seven days a week🎶

"Jungkook can be a lot of things but a fat shaming prick isn't one of them. So fuck him you fucking deserve it."

Maru (face claim: Devon Aoki): ride or die, she a real one who just wants Lizzie to get laid because “it’s life changing” smoker & drinker, party girl who encourages Lizzie to party friends with almost the whole college, known for resting bitch face RBF

“Did you fuck him😏? Was it good?”

Vincent “Vince” (face claim: Marcello Hernandez): the sassy funny pretty boi

[supersizemeplz]

I’ll Be Right Back

Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader

A mini #supersizedfic that will hopefully get me back into the swing of things. I’ve missed writing so much and I pray that I find my spark again.

A few icicles housed the outside of the bedroom window, proving just how cold it really was outside. The chilled wind fought and failed to make it into the cozy abode of the couple inside. Hitting the window and turning away without a harder attempt. Sunlight was beginning to make its way through the sheer curtains and cascade onto whatever it could touch. The soft sounds of the ceiling fan droned on, doing its hushed dance. Sounds of some romantic comedy dominated the airwaves and held the attention of the two lovers on the silk sheets a few feet away. A silk bonnet adorned the head of the beauty that draped her leg over her handsome prince.

The silk shorts she wore hugged her soft thighs that also served as the hand rest for her handsome fellow. His thumb gave a soothing back and forth to rub small circles into her vanilla scented skin. The fabric of her long sleeved shirt had risen to expose her soft belly and a peek of her love handles, giving her boyfriend his much appreciated physical touch. The soft scent of his cologne soothed her senses as her breathing calmed to match his. She found herself grinning every so often as she felt him shift to pull her closer.

All weekend they had been in each other's skin. Damn near, at least. The town was almost closed down due to the snow and ice, granting them the time to enjoy one another for the past 72 hours. Salt trucks had been working on the roads and the annoying rain had stopped the day before. The weather was forecast to be sunny and with the sun came the ice melting on the roads. So before they were forced to go back to work, they would savor these moments.

Everything felt so perfect. So calm and peaceful. Until it wasn't.

The annoying buzz and vibrate of a cell phone broke you both from the movie before them. Erik sighed, looking over to his phone. Not wanting to answer but knowing that it could be important. Her soft brown eyes met his and she shook her head. Placing a hand against his stomach, she gave a persuasive rub. "Ignore it, baby. You can call them back later." She pressed a kiss to his skin, hoping that he would just stay in bed with her.

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her warm skin. "It could be important, baby. I gotta take it. I'll be quick." He sat up and she hugged his torso to slow him down. Like he wasn't mostly muscle. The laugh he let out made her smile as he allowed her to stall him. The phone silenced and she smiled at the small victory. Until it began to ring again. She groaned and released him from her grip, accepting that he needed to answer the call. He sat up from the comfort of the pillows, grinning as she held a mug on her face. "Quit making that face, girl."

She fought off a grin, accepting the two pecks that he gifted her lips. Humming as he pulled from the lingering of the last one. "Make it snappy." He nodded at her playful demand and answered the phone. She watched the side of his face as he spoke to whoever was on the phone. His dimples appeared and vanished as he talked about some report that had been emailed among him and his coworkers.

Once he stood from the bed, her eyes went to the sweats that hugged low on his hips. Remembering that he was free balling since he'd slipped the comfy pants on after their shower together an hour or so earlier. She admired the muscles in his back as he searched for something on his laptop, watching as he held the phone between his shoulder and his ear. Her mind began to wander to the sinful pleasures that gifted him the faint scratches that peppered his skin. A few weeks old from a session that happened after a drunken date night.

"I'll be right right back, baby. I gotta handle something at the office." His words brought her back to the present in an instant.

"Wait, what?" She sat up at the unwanted words. "You can't handle it tomorrow? What about my booty rubs? You sure you wanna leave this?"

He smirked, watching her turn her backside to him. She gave a soft smack to the soft flesh, arching to gift him a teasing shake. "Of course, I don't wanna leave my baby. But it'll only take an hour. This client has a deadline and they want to go over the presentation before we present it." As he spoke, he worked on getting dressed into something warm.

She didn't say anything else as she watched him slip on some sneakers to match his red Nike tech. His chain peeked out as he turned his attention back to her. A charming smile adorned his lips as he approached her again.

"How could you do this to me, E?" She pouted, crossing her arms across her breasts. "I thought you loved me." He barked out a laugh, catching her chin gently to make her look up at him. Her bottom lip poked out as he attempted to give her kisses. To which she wouldn't break in to give him. That made him pull back to look at her.

"I know your dramatic ass before stop pouting and give me my kisses." He spoke gently and she broke in at the sound of his voice. Using both his hands, he pulled her closer as they shared a slow kiss. Her body began to relax into his the deeper it went. She moaned as he gave her a light squeeze. When they pulled apart, he licked his lips. "When I get back, I'll bring you a surprise and give you all the booty rubs you want."

She perked up at that, smiling a little. "You promise?"

He chuckled, nodding. "I promise. And I'd never break a promise to my baby. I love you too much." She did a squeal, hugging him again as she mumbled a 'damn right'.

[melehound]

💮red-blooded💮

ghost x (fem plus sized) reader

ahhh I don't see enough Simon comfort fics!!!

TWs!!: angst, heavy crying, explicit language

Ghost was an uncaged animal.

Despite his jokes and any other deceitful poison that dripped from his masked mug. 

“Give him a chance,” Price had said, “he's just rough around the edges.” 

When you are this deep into this field, you are either a monster or skilled, and even those lines seem to blend after a while

And it gets harder and harder to deny that you're made for this when digging a dagger out of some man's poor skull.

The rain outside was heavy, only making it harder to find soap and Ghost, and you hear nothing but rain, no footsteps, no words. You turn to leave the door you came from, but a shadowy figure two doors down stops you. 

You're frozen. You know it's him. You can see the mask, but the sockets are dark, void of all that made him human. Even if you could see his eyes brown and sad as they were, you could at least tell yourself that there was a human underneath. But it scared you any way you do not want his eyes on you. He's just standing there cloaked and soaking wet. There was no light on him, just the faint moonlight.

You felt almost sick. “I hate this man,” you repeated in your mind, but you dare not take your eyes off him. Then it dawned on you that your comms were broken. Nobody but shadows were lurking around. You ran the quick odds in your head, realizing you were doing this for no reason.

What were you scared of? 

He was on your side.

The more logical side of your mind said but was quickly overshadowed by the horrific screams on the other side its as if your very thoughts were pulling at you to run. 

“Ghost?” 

A broken shout comes from your lips even to your surprise. He finally walks forward. “Shite gave me quite the scare there. Find anything useful?” You shook your head in disbelief, sighing deeply, trying to feel relieved “Soap with ya?” “no, sir” “Just you then?” that uneasy feeling returned in moments. You looked up at him as he came closer, his gross gravelly voice growing nearer. 

You took a heavy step back; he was close- too close- your mind corrected. “Sargent?” you looked up at him. Still, eyes were darting back to his face. You felt any cheer or liveliness still lurking in your life fall from your face and leave nothing but sorrow and fear. 

He stepped closer still, cornering you in this already small space, a shadows dead body to your left and nothing but walls surrounding you and a flickering overhead light.

“Aye, Ghost? You there?”

Johnny's unmistakable voice chimed in through your broken comms, interrupting this ‘wonderful’ moment between you. 

The world stood on its toes. 

“Ghost? Have you seen guts anywhere?” 

His shaky gloved hand reached for his comms.

“She standing right here Johnny. What's your status.”

Ghost turned away from you abruptly, walking toward the rainy doorway. You realized you were only across the street from the church. 

The days following that incident were full of a plethora of different stressful encounters. You realized the LAST thing you needed to fear was Ghost, especially when you were surrounded by cartels and traders like Graves. You never felt fully comfortable despite him saving your life and trying to be… softer? After that night, he changed. For lack of a better word, suddenly his gruff orders were now grounded instructions and his freezing demeanor lessened to that of an air-conditioned room -escapable, almost pleasant- maybe it was something in the way that he spoke, or the way that he looked into your eyes or the way you looked into his; at times he was almost comforting, always ‘almost.’ It was like the fear had been replaced with sadness.

He seemed so sad. The thought made you frown. “Aye, what's wrong,” Soap asked gently. You looked up from the floor to look at his face. “Have you noticed Ghost is acting a little different” “You don't like it? Before, you were pretty scared of him” “Only a bit, and I didn't say I didn't like it. I just feel off..? I don't know” “Price does it too. They're both soft on you, not your fault, feeling like it's unfair?” he looked pretty focused on whatever he was drawing on his leg. “No, no, that's not it… what are you drawing?” 

He turned his thigh slightly giving you a look at his work of art. “What the hell is that thing?” “It's a cat!” “That's not a cat. It looks more like a turtle” Soap made an offended face looking down at it again. “I need to see Ghost. I'll see you later.”

The walk to Ghost's room was impending, there was so much weighed on your chest so many unfinished questions the answers would be even more distorted. You raised your hand to knock but your hand dropped as soon as you heard the soft shuttered and unmistakable sobbing. 

You dropped your hand and used your voice instead “Ghost?” your throat felt full of air with the weight of stones “Are you okay?” you asked, so soft you weren't even sure he could hear you. The knob of the door looks less intrusive by the moment “Ghost?” you heard hurried steps around the room before the door opened. “Yeah?” his mask was pulled on last second, and no shirt “I just wanted to talk to you” You paused for a moment “Are you alright?” “yeah, m’fine” “Do you want somebody to talk to?” “I'm alright love,” you smiled a bit despite the situation “What was it you wanted to talk about” “It's nothing I just heard you I got a bit worried” “Don't worry, worrying is my job. I'm okay” his eyes were red and wet almost hard to see with the grease paint dried but smeared across the expanse of his eyes. 

“Simon,” you said firmly “let me in, please?” 

The door creaked open letting the hall light bleed into his dark bedroom, you saw his naked back for mere seconds before you closed the door and the light was limited to the small sliver that shone under the door.

You sat on his bed and tried not to fall face-first onto him when his weight dragged you to him when he sat down on the bed. 

“Please be honest with me?” you pleaded, this was your gentlest voice. You touched his shoulder feeling him tense. he leaned forward abruptly leaning against your chest his fingers kneading into the red knitted sweater that you were currently wearing leaching off your warmth in his frigid room. Your hands laid on his back as your eyes adjusted to his dark room able to somewhat make out the scars deeply adorned in his flesh. All his actions were slow like he was scared, like he was waiting for you to shove him away. You held him tighter in response- god, my heart can't take this- it was quiet nothing but the soft buzzing of Simon's air conditioner.

“M’sorry” he whispered, you shook your head letting him lie there for a moment more. When he sat up he pulled his mask down and messily planted a kiss on your cheek his hands pulling you close and squeezing you, feeling you, needing you. “Simon?” “Can you stay? Please?”

“I'm not going anywhere Simon”

((✿: König fic soon promise<3))

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 1

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

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

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

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

Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had no idea the effect you had on him.

dividers by @y-onb 🩵

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

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Big Hands (Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend, Spencer, are getting ready for a night out, when your insecurities start to get the best of you.

Word Count: 1531 -- it's just a lil guy

Warnings: Body insecurities, maybe a little bit of a big-girl-soapbox

A/N: I definitely wrote this very quickly this afternoon because I literally just felt like it. This is just a short lil one for the big gals who just want someone to notice them.

Anyway hope you enjoy! Thank you all who have commented/reblogged/liked my last fic!!

-

Your jeans hugged your curvy hips as you tugged them up to your belly button, covering the bottom, larger part of your stomach. You were tall, for a woman, but not taller than Spencer. He was, what, 6’1”? You stood around 5’9”, so he still towered over you, still had to look down at you when he spoke, still had to crane his neck to whisper in your ear. 

You were wearing a flowy, sage green blouse. Why were clothes so hard to find for a larger girl? It was all cold-shoulders and obnoxious patterns. You just wanted something that flattered your body type and made you feel sexy. Apparently that was just a ridiculous request. This blouse was cute, but modest, with a ruched, fluted bunching of the fabric in the middle. The collar was low-cut to accent your breasts, but the sleeves were long, which was annoying. You were going dancing tonight with your boyfriend and his coworkers. You didn’t want to show off all of your body, by any means, but you wanted to look hot. Who could blame you? And it was also going to get hot, temperature-wise. Long sleeves just didn’t feel like the most pragmatic choice. 

Sometimes you just gave up and went with the best option. And this blouse, that made you feel like you were going to a casual church event, not to a bar, was, unfortunately, the best option. 

You inhaled sharply and shrugged your shoulders as you looked in the full-length mirror hooked on the back of the closet door. Your hair looked really cute - the two biggest pieces on either side in the front were braided and dangled in front of you, effectively bringing your hair out of your eyes but also provided something to give your hair a little pizzazz. Your makeup looked great - a simple, subtle smokey eye and glossy lips. Your black boots looked good, peeking out from your wide-legged jeans, which hugged your hips and, honestly, made your butt look really good. 

It was just this stupid shirt. And maybe you were getting too much in your head about it. But you were transfixed on it, hating the way the sleeves bunched up a little, how the bottom half flowed beneath the ruched fabric, effectively covering your stomach, meeting your jeans and the top of your thighs. The color was too muted for a going-out top - you wished you could wear something more exciting. 

You sometimes wished you looked like Emily or JJ, or had the self-confidence to rock loud looks like Penelope did. But then you remembered that you were who you were for a reason. You looked like you simply because that was what you looked like. And there was no point in wishing you looked like someone else. 

Plus, Spencer was really into your body. He was nearly always staring at your breasts when you were in private, sometimes to the point where you had to snap your fingers in front of his eyes to garner his attention. 

It was flattering. You didn’t mind it if your boyfriend objectified you a little bit. He was respectful about it. 

“Y/N, are you about ready?” Spencer walked into your bedroom as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes met Spencer’s and you saw his neutral expression turn into a full-fledged grin, biting his tongue and all. “You look really nice,” he said, and you shook your head. 

“I look like a chaperone at a middle school dance,” you frowned, tugging at the fabric of your blouse in some illogical attempt to make it look different. 

“What?” Spencer stood behind you in the mirror. His chin basically met the top of your head, like too puzzle pieces. One hand rested on your hip, while the other slowly brushed your hair to one side so he could press a kiss to your neck. “I think you look great,” he added. 

You immediately felt tingly and your knees wobbled at the action. “But I’m not dressing for you,” you said, your voice instinctively dropping as Spencer’s lips trailed down your neck. You were having trouble concentrating on what you were trying to say. “I’m dressing for me, and I want to look cute. I can’t believe you’re even going tonight. You don’t dance, Spencer,” you pointed out, your self-control somehow beating out your desire for Spencer in the moment. You broke away from him and turned around to face him. 

“You do look cute, Y/N. I don’t understand what the issue is?” Spencer’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at you. “Also, I’m going out tonight because you want to. And I’m trying to keep an open mind. I might enjoy it.” 

You were proud of him. When you started dating about six months ago, he would have simply politely declined an invitation to a night out. And while you didn’t love going out every night, or even every weekend, for that matter, you did enjoy a night out occasionally. 

Regardless, he still didn’t quite understand what you were feeling about that damn shirt. “The issue,” you began, heaving a sigh, “is that I’m insecure about my body. Like any woman. You don’t get it, because you’re a man, and you literally have nothing to be insecure about.”

You knew the words were incorrect the moment you said them, but something kept you from backpedaling. You watched as Spencer shook his head, letting a small laugh escape him. “You could not be further from the truth,” Spencer pointed out, and you knew he was right. Men had plenty to be insecure about, and it was, in some ways, even more difficult for men to express those feelings. 

“Well, I think you’re perfect,” You let a small, playful smile creep onto your face, and Spencer rolled his eyes as you used his own tactic from earlier. He stepped towards you and his hands found your waist, contouring to match your curves. He knew them so well now, he could probably draw a map of your body with his eyes closed. 

“I appreciate that,” Spencer said, his voice a little softer as your eyes met his. His head dipped down, and you thought, certainly, that he was going to kiss you, but instead, his lips stopped just barely by your ears. You could feel his breath on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as he spoke. “You might be insecure, Y/N, but I am, too. You’re just human.” 

“What are you insecure about?” You found yourself asking, pulling your head back to look at him properly. Now you were curious. 

“My hands, mostly,” Spencer removed his hands from your waist, holding them palm-up, as if to present them to you for the first time. 

“What’s wrong with your hands?” You asked, placing your palms atop his. 

“They’re really big,” Spencer said timidly, and, admittedly, they were. But just by comparison. Your hands fit into his with plenty of extra space. You used your index fingers to trace his palms. 

“They’re not too big,” you told him, and Spencer just smiled down at you, shaking his head, like he was just humoring you. “I love your hands,” you continued. “I love that you can put your palm over an entire half of my face,” you said, guiding his palm to your cheek and grinning when his skin touched yours. Spencer’s thumb brushed your cheekbone. 

“And I love your body,” Spencer replied, and you just pursed your lips and shook your head. “No, Y/N, listen to me.” 

You let out a frustrated little exhale through your nose and let him continue. 

“I love the way you look. But I wouldn’t care if you were any bigger or any smaller. Because I love you. I’m attracted to you, to your mind, to your sense of compassion, and to your body. I love the way your hips fill out your jeans, how your stomach looks in your yoga pants,” he said. “I love the way you wiggle your toes when we’re watching something funny on TV, how you do a little shimmy in your seat when you’re eating something you really enjoy,” he explained, mimicking the movement. You looped your arms around his neck. “But mostly, I’m in love with your personality. How you challenge me, how you seem to bring out the best version of myself.”

You let out a wistful sigh. If this were a Jane Austen novel, you would have swooned. But instead, you used your grip around his neck to bring his face down to yours and kiss him. It was slow at first, then a little more intense, and when you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his. 

“You ready to go now?” Spencer asked, and when your eyes opened, you saw that he was smiling down at you. 

You shook your head, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “Not yet,” you said, your hands sliding down his arms until your palms met his. You tugged him in the direction of your bed. “I want to show you how much I love these big hands.” 

[yanderexchubbyreader]

yan!king x chubby!maid!reader

~*well, this managed to get uploaded on accident, but I guess for those who come across this, welcome to the soft launch of the blog!*~

warnings: explicit nsfw, noncon, somnophilia, cum inside, obsessed king just loves his pretty lil maid so much and wants you to have his babies

- imagine being specifically chosen by the yan!king himself to serve as his personal maid

- he’s seen you around the castle for a few years, becoming obsessed with you and your soft frame

- it had gotten to the point he’d go insane if he didn’t have you, and he promoted you so he could see and speak with you every day

- imagine the yan!king getting violently angry when you’re not the one to tend to him

- his heart would shatter, thinking his darling must not love him anymore

- he gets so mean and scours the castle himself to track you down, practically crying because you didn’t like him anymore

- he’d find you in your room, having overslept that morning

- imagine having to talk him out of the tantrum that tried to follow after, reassuring him that you did like him

- yan!king would take that as a hint that you had feelings for him as well, and now he’d stop at nothing to make you his queen

- you’re now by his side 24/7, even moving into the servant’s room that was directly across from his

- imagine yan!king sneaking into your room one night, sick of just imagining how you felt and ready to just get his hands on the real thing

- he’d start by oh-so-slowly pushing the edge of your night gown up, drooling as the pads of his fingers finally touched your soft skin, his cock becoming hard at just that

- then, he’d push his hand between her thighs to cup your center, his middle finger sliding up your slit

- as his fingers pumped in and out of you slowly, he’d drink in your unconscious moans, his other hand pumping at his cock

- imagine yan!king has your legs pushed upwards, thrusting his cock into your puffy pussy at a gentle pace

- he’s whimpering at how good you feel, your walls pulsing around him

- he’d fill you up so much, crying at the immense pleasure of finally being able to cum inside of you, having to force himself off of you so he didn’t wake you from another round

- the next morning, he’d take notice in your limp and your hand rubbing at your aching lower back, feeling pride in having claimed you

- he’d do it a few more times before finally trying to court you while you were awake, but you’d never know that

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Title: Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K+

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Warnings: dacryphilia, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up babes), creampie, spit kink (for like two seconds), Reader being a brat

A/N: This has been a plot bunny that sat in my Google Docs while all my other works got attention. Did I really just write a 5+1? Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

Clark Kent was a simple man, for the most part. He had preferences, sure. But he knew what he liked, and went for those things more often than not. One of his preferences was a certain kind of woman. 

And you were that kind of woman. His Sunflower.

The perfect combination of submissive and strong-willed. What others may call bratty, Clark would call “a little feisty” and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

And that is where Clark was anything but simple. He was your Dominant, you were his submissive. He loved you, he provided for you, and he kept you safe. He kissed the ground you walked on, he broke you, and he put you back together.

The first time you met Clark Kent was in the break room of the Daily Planet. 

You were an intern for the summer, just working to get some credits toward your journalism degree. You weren’t all that interested in going to warzones and reporting on drug lords and shit. You wanted to tell stories about starving artists and activism. You wanted to surprise people with your ability to capture the essence of someone’s emotion and relate it to the reader’s own experiences.

While doing your writing at work, while you were supposed to be doing whatever Lois Lane threw at you this morning, you decided to take a break to recharge. Since energy drinks gave you the jitters, you opted for a warm-ish mug of hours-old coffee.

As you reached up to the cabinet to get a mug, you watched as a hand appears above you to grab the handles of two mugs. You turned, following the hand, to see who reached over you. Eyes blue like the Atlantic Ocean behind a pair of plain black rectangular frames looked back at you. You can’t help but smile at him as he beamed, bright enough to illuminate your entire day.

And your writer’s brain was getting way ahead of itself already. Who the hell was this mountain of a man? I wonder what his lips taste like. Should that tie go with that shirt? Fuck, did he just ask me something?

“I’m sorry, what?” You shook yourself out of your thoughts.

“I asked if you wanted the black or the flower mug. I was gonna offer the flower. But I’d rather not assume you didn’t wanna just take the plain one. So, I’m gonna stop talking and let you answer.” 

Fuck, he’s cute when he rambles.

“Sunflowers are my favorite.” He offered the mug and your fingers touch and you’re glad that you are the only two in the break room.

“Clark,” he says, as he poured himself some coffee, “Clark Kent.”

You gave your name and he put out a hand to shake yours. With your hand in his, you notice how it engulfed your own. You thought to yourself about that hand around your throat. Just lightly squeezing the sides of your neck, as a warning.

“Nice to meet you. I hope Lois has been easy on you. She can be a little…much.” He said it in a way that lead you to believe he’s been on the demanding end of Lois more than once.

“Eh, she’s alright. I mean, Ms. Lane is just fine.” You tried to cover your disdain for Lois. In reality, you saw her as a ‘Pick-Me’, but you tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah, sure she is. I dated her, so I know her pretty well. Not that I should be saying anything. But, don’t let her try and get in your head. She’ll use whatever she can to get a scoop, whether in the field or the workplace. She’s a great journalist, but-” You cut him off, not wanting to take part in putting down another woman.

“I think I get the hint. Watch my back around her.” You assure him you understood as you poured your coffee and put in some cream and sugar.

“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was rude of me. My mother would be disappointed in me for that.” He looked into his mug, and you saw that he was not proud of himself for putting down his ex.

“It’s all good, Clark. I can tell you didn’t mean anything by it. Emotions are tricky, ya know?” You don’t know why you wanted to give him an ‘out’, but you did.

“That, they are. I better get back. See ya around,” He gave a cute little wave and exited the room.

The first time Clark Kent called you Sunflower happened about a month after your first meeting. 

The two of you ended up together on a test run for Perry to see how you go about working with other reporters. He probably just wanted to see if I could share a byline.

You could tell that Lois saw a tenacity in you that reminded her of her younger self. While that was great, you wanted to be seen for your ability to get people to talk to you without making them feel like they were in an interview. Just a conversation between people.

When you asked Clark to work on the assignment with you, he jumped at the opportunity. In truth, he wanted the chance to see you at work. He’d listen to Lois talk about how you just saw things differently. Almost like she was jealous, but she would never admit to that.

“So I was thinking we could go to Gotham. Before you say anything, I know it’s dangerous there but we’ll be going during the day. And I finally got the go-ahead from Wayne Enterprises to shadow one of their board members. A Day in the Life kind of piece. What do you think?” You rambled out, arms crossed as you leaned against Clark’s desk.

“I think I can get you an exclusive with Bruce Wayne if you wanted.” He stated nonchalantly.

“I would owe you big time. Wait, how the hell do you know Wayne? What, were you boy scouts together or something?”

“We just end up at a lot of the same places.” Clark offers no other explanation.

“Right,” you nodded at him, not letting it go, “So, I run point on this and you back me up?”

“Sounds perfect. You’ll do great, just know he will try and flirt with you so don’t make it easy for him, Sunflower.” The nickname caused heat to rise to your face, remembering that first time you met him.

“Sure, like the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who can buy whatever he wanted would look at me twice?” You weren’t being down on yourself too much, more like you were being realistic. The man had dated supermodels and heiresses, not chubby junior reporters.

“Without sounding unprofessional, trust me when I say Bruce will look at you more than twice. You say the word and I’ll set him straight.” Was that flirtatious? No way.

“Um, if you say so, Clark,” you tried to laugh it off and walk away but Clark caught your wrist, your eyes locked with his and you felt…something. 

“I do say so, Sunflower,” he lowered his hand from around your wrist, “Just prepare to shut him down more than once. He’s, uh, persistent.”

“You trying to save me for yourself, huh?” You couldn’t help yourself. If he denies it, you could say you were joking. If he confirms it, then…

He simply smiled and tilted his head, neither confirming nor denying. 

During your interview with Bruce Wayne, you were surprised that he indeed did flirt with you as Clark said he would. You managed to steer the conversation back to Wanye Enterprises each time he would stray to learn more about you. You would give him a detail here and a tidbit there, but you kept it professional. Clark was there to take notes, letting you take the lead. He was impressed by you. You kept Bruce flirting with you to get him to spill details about new things he was working on for Gotham.

The first time you kissed Clark Kent was three months into your internship. 

Lois had taken a shine to you, loving what few pieces you were able to get past the intern pool and into an issue. You figured it would be in your best interest to go to her with any journalistic questions you had. You may not like her very much, but she was still a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and you would be an idiot not to take a few pointers from her.

There was one thing you didn’t talk to her about, and that was the massive crush you had on her ex. It just seemed too messy, and honestly, you didn’t need her permission to do anything. 

That’s why you accepted Clark’s invitation to make you dinner. Frankly, you weren't surprised he asked you. You had been flirting with each other, exchanging glances and smiles across the office. Spending hours a night talking on the phone and texting back and forth naturally lead you here.

Armed with a bottle of wine and all the courage you could muster, you make it to Clark’s apartment just as he is finishing dinner. He answers the door in jeans and a grey long-sleeved henley, looking so comfortable and so different without a tie on. He thanked you for the wine, took your wrist to pull you behind him, and shut the door with a socked foot.

Pouring you both a glass, he congratulated you for completing half of your internship. It completely slipped your mind that you had reached this milestone, but he remembered. And that was saying a lot. You clinked your glasses together and took a sip of the pinot noir. 

“This is going to go great with dinner. Thank you again for picking up some. I can’t believe I forgot to,” Clark bantered, setting his wine glass down to check on the pork tenderloin and roasted potatoes.

“You were too busy trying to impress me,” You insisted, smiling when he gives you a stern look.

“Watch it, Sunflower,” is all you hear and you shifted from one foot to the other to hide your search for friction. You barely had two sips of wine in your system before this man had you feeling drunk.

“Time to let the pork rest while the potatoes finish up. Should be done in a bit,” Clark picked up his wine glass, settling his other hand on your lower back to guide you to the island counter. He didn’t expect it when a shiver ran up your spine and caused you to giggle, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

You sat and chatted during dinner like you’ve known each other for ages and it just felt very comfortable. He told you about his mom, growing up in Smallville, and how he came to work at the Daily Planet. You spoke about your schooling and how you’d one day like to write for the Planet and publish a book of short stories. He was stuck on your every word and it made you feel important to have his undivided attention.

After dinner, you retired to the living room to watch some tv. It was more just on as background noise as you conversed with each other. When you both reached for the wine bottle at the same, you both laugh and then look at each other. And it was all you could do not to melt into a puddle as those blue eyes stare longingly at you.

Clark reached up and took off his glasses before tossing them on the coffee table. Fuck. But, he does nothing more. For what seems like minutes, you sat in silence just staring into each other’s eyes until you speak up. 

“Clark, please?” You whined, growing more frustrated with every second.

“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Sunflower.” The way he said it had you shifting in your seat.

“I need you to kiss me, please?” You pleaded, the little crack in your voice not missed by Clark.

He cupped your face with one large paw, his touch so soft that you leaned into it to feel his warmth. His thumb moved over to wipe across your lips, followed swiftly by his lips.

Your lips met and you felt the warmth radiating from him. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as he begged for entry. You let him in, moaning into his mouth. Clark grunted in return and pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

“I have wanted that for far too long, Sunflower,” Clark groaned, licking his lips.

“Me too,” you whisper, scooting closer to Clark to lace your fingers together, “Can we do it again?”

Instead of answering you, he pulled you into his lap and attacked your mouth with fervor.

The first time you tell Clark Kent you love him is exactly two months after your first kiss.

It was completely by accident, but no less true. 

Clark invited you over for dinner and a movie. The two of you were in the middle of watching 10 Things I Hate About You. Patrick was dancing on the bleachers and singing to Kat. The most romantic scene in the movie apart from the poetry scene.

“Ya know, if we went to high school together and you sang ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ to me in front of the whole school, I would have melted,” you say, stuffing popcorn into your face, “But then, I already love you, so you wouldn’t have to do the whole singing thing.”

Clark’s head whipped around so fast that you can feel the wind coming off of him. “What did you just say, Sunflower?”

You look to Clark and you realized what you had said at the same moment and your eyes went wide. “I think I just confessed love during a ‘90s romcom.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Clark looked at you with that look in his eyes, “Good thing I love you, too.” He says nonchalantly, trying to not freak you out, and went back to watching the movie.

“Clark, I love you.” You wanted to feel the words on your tongue again.

“I love you too, Sunflower.” Hearing the words come from him was like a cozy embrace that coated the night in warmth.

The first time you had sex with Clark Kent was at the end of your internship.

Clark wanted to wait- 

No, he didn’t want to wait, but he chose to wait until your internship was over and you were offered an actual job at the Daily Planet to not seem like he was cruising for tail in the intern pool. 

Little did you know, but Clark had it all planned out. Candlelit dinner, romantic music, wine, and chocolates. The whole nine yards. But you didn’t get to experience that version of lovemaking. 

At the same time Clark was lighting candles, he heard your heartbeat spike across town. He sped away to your location, without putting on his suit. He flew above the city before he found you being held up at gunpoint in an alleyway and his blood boiled. He watched you comply with your attacker and hand over your purse before flying down behind the man quietly. The man had no idea what hit him when Clark flicked his temple and the assailant falls over unconscious.

He didn’t even think to keep his identity secret anymore. He steps over the man to get to you and check you over for injuries, both external and internal. When he sees nothing, he questions you, “Are you alright, Sunflower?”

You look almost through him because there he is in a sweater and dark-wash jeans, glasses slightly askew. You step back an inch as he reaches out to you. He can see it in your eyes that you are piecing together little moments. 

How he got across town in what seemed like seconds. How he never got sick. How it felt like he was always hiding something. This is what he was hiding from you. For your safety? For his?

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you I was Superman, I just didn’t know how. Do you forgive me, Sunflower?” Clark’s pleading ultramarine eyes burned into yours. 

“I mean, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell me. I have so many questions. Of which, you will answer all of them, Clark. But, all I need to know right now is how the hell you found me?” Your breathing was starting to speed up again and you tried to calm down but given the circumstances, you were acting pretty normal.

“I kind of, know your heartbeat. I can hear it at all times. Wherever you are, I can hear you,” Clark makes an odd face and then forces out an embarrassed laugh, “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds weird.”

“Yeah, it’s a little weird. But it’s also super romantic, too,” you reach to Clark and pull him to you, “What’s my heart sound like now?”

“Sounds like you’re excited,” he let his hand drag down your body, “Smells like it too. Now, why would that be?”

“I mean, I did just find out my boyfriend is a superhero. That’s sorta hot. Sorta, I mean, he hasn’t taken me flying yet.”

“Brat! How hard is it to ask for what you want?” He picked up your purse from the unconscious attacker and handed it to you. When it is secured around your shoulder, Clark picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, Sunflower.” He took off so fast that the world blurred around you.

As he got closer to his apartment, he slowed down and flew a bit higher near the clouds. He rolled over onto his back so that you are straddling him. His hands found each other behind his head as he floated above Metropolis, all attention directed at you. Your eyes wandered around the city as you adjusted your seating which stirred his arousal.

Clark tried to adjust himself under you without you noticing but instead, you took the opportunity to grind your clothed sexes together. The groan that escaped Clark’s mouth is enough to spur you on to continue your ministrations. His eyes are already rolling back in his head and you feel quite proud of yourself. You reached under Clark’s sweater and ran your fingers through his chest hair as you continue to work your hips over him.

“Clark?”

“Yes, Sunflower?” He opened his eyes, pupils were blown wide with lust, breathing becoming unstable.

“Take me to your place so we can get more comfortable?” You flirted with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying up his body.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed under your thighs to have you wrap your legs around him once more and began to descend to the balcony of his apartment. He let you inside first but is quickly behind you following you into his bedroom as you start to shed your layers.

You spun around and gave Clark a show of your skin becoming visible in the moonlight. When you are fully undressed, you knelt in front of him with your head down and your hands on your thighs. 

He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. He listened for your heartbeat, and it was steady, if not a little heightened. You were awaiting instruction, as far as he could tell.

“Sunflower, I want you to pick a safe word.” He stood behind you and undressed down to his underwear.

“Unicorn is my safe word.”

“Good girl,” Clark caressed your shoulders and squeezed them, “Are you okay with calling me Sir?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your heart rate evened out, Clark noticed. You’re happy. He beamed down at you.

“Good girl, now turn around and take out Sir’s dick.” 

You turned around and reach up to Clark’s boxer briefs, cupping him over the fabric before hooking your fingers into the waistband and pulling the underwear down and off. His length sprung up to bounce in front of your face and you lick your lips in anticipation but don’t go any further without direction.

“Such a good girl, Sunflower,” he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Come lay down so Sir can taste you. I can already smell how wet you are.”

You took his hands as he helped you up. Clark pulled you close to his body, your back against his chest. He attacked your neck, nipping and sucking marks that would show in the morning. His length on your hip has you testing your limits. 

As if reading your mind, Clark reached down and cupped your netherlips. You instinctively clamped your thighs around his hand and he used a foot to kick your legs apart. With one hand exploring your cunt, the other slides around your throat as a warning.

“Don’t ever block me from my pussy, Sunflower. This belongs to Sir now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir, it belongs to you.” You were sure Clark could feel you clench around nothing and you didn’t care. You wanted him to know he was doing everything right.

“Good girl,” He dipped a finger into your wetness and pulled it back out to wipe across your bottom lip, “We’re both gonna taste your sweet honey.” He used the hand around your throat to turn you around so he could claim your lips.

You tasted yourself as his tongue invaded you, whimpering into his mouth. His answering groans had you trembling. He walked you backward until your legs hit the edge and he pushed you down. Leaning over, he knelt and pushed your thighs back as far as they would go, marveling at your glistening slit.

With the flat of his tongue, he licked from your entrance to your neglected nub, pausing to suck on it lightly. He ate with the hunger of a man starved. He steeled his tongue, probing your core and tasting you from within. He made out with your pussy, pulling back to spit on it which drew moans from you and had you squeezing your breasts in response.

Clark was good at this, not that you were surprised because of how good of a kisser he was, but fuck! The way he fingered your pussy, making sure to curve his fingers to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside was heavenly. 

When he sped up his fingers and pushed down on your lower stomach, you gasped and realized he understood the assignment. He was rewarded with you squirting over his hands and chest.

“Such a good girl for me, Sunflower,” he said, before sucking your juices off of his fingers and moving your limp body up the bed, “Now, you’re going to be an extra good girl and take Sir’s dick.”

That was all the warning you received before Clark was pushing in, stretching you wide over his thick hardness. With every inch, he would pull out and press in an inch more than the last thrust. He made sure to stretch you slowly, keeping your tightness while allowing you to get used to his girth. 

“That’s right, Sunflower, open those sweet petals for Sir,” Clark soothes your whines as he fucks into you, “I promise I’ll make it all better when you let me all…the way…in.” He punctuated his words with jolts from his hips. 

When he is finally seated inside you, he pauses. The sudden stop has you reaching for Clark and moving your hips to gain friction.

“Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” he leaned over you and watched as tears flow from your eyes, “These tears are gorgeous, but use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Sir, please,” you whined, looking into his eyes, “Need you to fuck me, please.” 

The smile on Clark’s face is brilliant, he’s got you right where he wants you. He kissed your face, stopping to wipe away your tears with his tongue. Pulling back, he secured your legs around his hips before he leaned down to wrap one hand around both of your wrists, holding them above your head.

When Clark fucked you, he paid attention to every aspect of your body. He looked into your eyes. He kissed and nipped at your neck. He pinched and teased your nipples. He rubbed your clit while he pounded inside you. 

Clark just did it better than any of your partners before. Maybe because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him? Or maybe because he was just…better. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were with him and he was inside you and you were all his.

You lost track of how many times you came, but Clark remembers every time. He committed them to memory, seeing you arch your back and feeling your walls flutter around him. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on your body and the way your body is vibrating that you were beyond spent. Possibly even a bit overstimulated. Perfect.

“You ready for my cum, Sunflower?” He licked his thumb and pressed on your clit as you keen, “Do you think you can hold on for me for just a bit longer?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you moan as he slid his hands to your hips.

“There’s my good girl,” he groaned and began his assault on your pussy. At this angle, he can stimulate both your hooded center and your G-spot. A punishing pace that set you ablaze. While you held onto his biceps, you looked into his eyes. Where there used to be blue irises, only dark pupils remained. His curly hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead. He was barely a man now, more like an animal rutting into you.

Before long, his hips stutter in their onslaught. Breathing erratically, he squeezed your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He moved to kiss your neck and latched onto your shoulder with his teeth as you feel every twitch of him releasing inside you. You know there will be bite marks in your shoulder for days but you don’t care.

Clark’s teeth left you, followed closely by his tongue soothing your almost-broken skin. Sometimes, he didn’t know his strength. And it was a close one this time. He was still inside you semi-hard before he decided to pull out slowly causing you to whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

He moved from the bed for a moment. You closed your eyes for a millisecond before you feel warm wetness between your legs.

“Just cleaning you up, Sunflower,” He wipes your delicate folds softly and throws the towel in the clothes hamper before crawling in bed beside you, “You go right to sleep, you deserve it.”

The last time you refer to yourself as Clark’s girlfriend is a year and a half into your relationship.

Clark proposes to you over dinner in the house you bought together. He bought the ring after you talked about marriage just two weeks ago. Well, technically, Bruce helped him buy the ring. As in, Bruce bought the jewelers store and had them design the perfect ring for you. 

A smoky quartz center with marquise and pear-shaped citrine petals around it. You had mentioned more than once that you didn’t want a diamond engagement ring, you wanted something that matched your style.

Clark presented the ring to you on one knee, ever the traditionalist. You said yes, of course.

This man was your life, your hope, and your future. You looked forward to every minute of every hour of every day with him. 

He is your light in the darkness, and you are his Sunflower.

A/N: Yes, the title is from "Sunflower" by Post Malone/Swae Lee. Yes, the song was for a Spider-Man movie. So, what? It's a good song.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz  😁 Also if you want to be removed from tags, lemme know!

[holylulusworld]

BFG masterlist

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: heavy size kink, flirty reader, plus-sized reader, objectification of Reacher, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, sexual tension, smut, injuries, friendship

A/N: I don't write for enough fandoms so...bear with me...

BFG = Big friendly giant

BFG (1)

BFG (2)

BFG (3)

BFG (4)

BFG (5)

BFG (6)

BFG (7)

BFG (8)

BFG (9)

[venting402]

Never read a plus size reader pregnancy fic but I want to! (I have no idea if they exist in my fandoms)

Yeah we have bellies but fuck it pregnancy and lactation kinks while your man is obsessed with you. Seeing your belly swell and knowing it’s because of their child inside of you. Size kink too! Why abandon it! Shorter than them and idk smaller hands but with a baby!!!

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind (Part 1)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, brief descriptions of masturbation, smut in later parts 

A/N: I got this idea from watching the newest season of Love is Blind and getting genuinely annoyed that the show still doesn’t have a more size inclusive dating pool. I feel like the show  could be so much more. There are many subjects the show could be featuring that it just doesn’t. Anyways, this is incredibly self-indulgent, Eddie Munson loves plus size women and I refuse to accept otherwise. Enjoy!

Please consider reblogging/commenting if you like it!

Day One: 

Eddie’s palms are sweaty, and he nervously wipes his hands on his jeans repeatedly. He bounces his leg, twisting the rings on his fingers. Fuck, what the hell is he even doing here? He’s sitting on a couch, facing a blank wall, and he’s absolutely scared shitless that he’s finally doing this. Hell, if it bombs, he gets some cash for participating. Whatever, it’s not like he actually believes in this shit. 

He’s up and pacing the room when he finally hears a door on the other side of the wall open and close. He literally jumps over from the back of the couch to get back in his seat. He can hear the faint patter of someone walking. Then it stops, he assumes the person on the other side has taken a seat.

“This is so weird,” the voice from the other side of the wall says, and Eddie feels immediately at ease. He chuckles, shaking his head, standing up to walk the pent up energy out. 

“Batshit,” Eddie exclaims in agreement. “I don’t know what I’m even doing here.”

“I’m here for the $200,” the voice jokes. “But that’s just me.”

He’s instantly relaxed, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel like he’s sitting alone in a drafty room on a lumpy couch. He’s intrigued, and ready to play the game. At least, he’s open to this first conversation. He feels a little better knowing that he’s not alone. He sits down finally, rubbing his hands still. 

“I’m here,” he begins, allowing himself to be a little vulnerable, “because I am sick of the way people look at me.”

“Fuck, amen to that,” the voice responds with a clap, and the reaction makes Eddie grin from ear to ear. “Guys are so shallow, no offense.” He laughs.

“I’m not usually this outgoing,” the voice shares, sounding a little more reserved, “There’s something about you not looking at me that's making me a little more brave.” Eddie thinks this girl sounds so incredibly sweet. He’s never been attracted to someone’s voice, but he’s feeling himself being pulled in. It’s gentle, and kind and not deserving of whatever the world did to you to lead you here. 

“Well, I’m used to being the spectacle,” Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch, slumping down. “I can’t help it,” he exhales, “I mean, people think the worst of me no matter what I do, so like, fuck it. I’m gonna have fun with it.” 

“Is that all of it?” the voice asks, knowingly. Eddie scoffs at the perception. Is he that obvious?

“No,” he cringes, and he hears a giggle from the other side of the wall. It helps him feel more comfortable. “Um honestly,” he continues, a little shy, “Part of me keeps the act up cause if people are watching me, I’m not alone. I’d rather be the laughing stock than have no one acknowledge me at all.” 

“I’m the opposite,” the voice shares, “I’d so much rather be out of sight out of mind.” 

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” he asks softly. 

“In my experience,” the voice continues, “it has always felt like people keep me around so they feel better about themselves. I know that’s not true- I know my friends love me. I just- being by myself is my comfort zone. I don’t need to worry about how I’m like being perceived. Or if, like, I'm being judged.” 

Eddie nods understandingly, until he remembers you can’t see him. 

“I get it,” he says, trying to be comforting. “I, uh, yeah.. People don’t like… they don’t like understand what it feels like when you just feel simultaneously so small and like you take up too much space- and how they’re the ones that make you feel that way.” 

“Wow- I’ve never heard it put into words so well before. That’s just been my life, you know?”

“We’re really getting deep huh?” he jokes, chest swelling with pride when he hears the laugh. 

“I really like your voice,” the voice admits, and Eddie feels his face heat and he’s sure his face is flushed red from the compliment. His ego has been very much stroked at this point, and he takes the opportunity to fully embrace this whole flirting thing. If he can at least leave this experiment making someone feel good, then he won’t consider this a waste of time. 

“Well, I really like your voice,” he quips. “Actually, uh- I’ve been sitting over here, on a really shitty couch. And I was asking myself what the hell was I doing here? I am probably the worst person for this experiment- I don’t think I could take this seriously. Then, I heard your voice- and I instantly felt attracted to you- if you can believe it. Now, I’m over here, your voice bringing out thing I would never fucking say out loud. I’m pacing around, you’ve made a mess of me.” 

It feels like only a short period of time goes by, but in actuality, Eddie and his mystery date get wrapped up in talking for over three hours. He talks to her about music, his favorite books, his Uncle Wayne… sharing more about himself to a total stranger than he’d ever volunteer to even his close friends. You swap childhood stories, commiserate over bullies, and before he knows it, he thinks you might know him better than anyone. 

A timer buzzes and it’s time for Eddie to move on to his next first “date.” As the door opens and one of the technicians is ready to escort him to the next room. He desperately stares at the wall before he moves, hoping to hear the voice one more time. 

“Please, if you’re still there,” he says standing up, “I want to talk with you again tomorrow.” He knocks on the wall, rings tapping. He receives a knock back, and he grins devilishly, 

“It’s a date.” 

The technician taps his shoulder and he nods, letting them lead him out to the next room. He wraps an arm around the mousy guy as he jots down something on his clipboard. “I have a date tomorrow,” Eddie beams, looking back at the blank wall like he’s looking back to get another glance at you. 

Day Two:

You still tug anxiously at your shirt, making sure it’s not clinging to your belly. Even though none of your dates can see you, you can’t shake the self conscious feeling. Yesterday was draining, all of the dates you had fell so short after that first one. Nothing came as easy to you as that first one, and you’re hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon. 

You take a sip of your water, and opt to move from the couch to the floor. You sit criss-crossed and stare at the wall in front of you. You really focus on your breathing and try to let yourself open up. You’re here because you’re hoping to find someone who likes you for you- but no matter what, you’re still incredibly anxious thinking about the big reveal. No matter how well the conversations go, you worry it will be null and void once they see you’re plus size. 

“Please, please, please for the love of God that this is finally you?” you hear a familiar voice whine, and you can’t contain your smile. “Pretty girl, c’mon talk to me.”

“You don’t know what I look like,” you scoff, but still, you feel yourself still melting like putty. 

“Fuck, finally,” mystery boy sighs, and you hear him collapse on the couch. You can only assume his set-up is the same as yours. “Baby, I have been dying to hear your voice again.”

“This experiment not working out for you?” you ask, sympathetically. You find it hard to believe he’s not chatting up everyone else and hitting on them the same way he does with you. It’s the only explanation. You can’t let yourself believe he genuinely feels differently towards you. 

“No this sucks,” he says, and then you hear him blow a raspberry. You can’t help it but laugh in agreement. “I just want to talk to you.” He sounds so vulnerable, and you actually find yourself believing him. 

“Again,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “You don’t really know anything about me.” 

“I want to,” he sounds so sincere, and it makes your heart swell. “You are the least boring person here.” 

“I’m touched,” you reply sarcastically, and you feel good hearing that you made him laugh. 

“I wish I could take you out,” he says and he sounds closer, like he’s sitting up against the wall. “I’ve got like no fucking money,” he laughs. 

“I hate going out,” you reassure him, “I want to just hangout with you.”

“No, no, no,” he says dramatically, “No safe zone. You deserve to go out and be shown off. I am not gonna lock you away from the world, I’m gonna show you off.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” You quip, letting yourself slip into a little bit of a fantasy. You let yourself feel wanted and feel desirable even if it’s contained to this room. 

“Well, not to be like that guy,” he’s suddenly sounding a little shy and you find it very endearing. “But like, I’d want to bring you to one of my band’s shows. Like- don’t get me wrong, we play at like really shitty bars that take way too long to drive to. And we don’t even make back the money the gas costs to get there, but like, I really like it and um, that’s uh when I feel I’m at my best, and I’d want you to see that side of me.” 

“So what does bringing girls to a show look like for you?” you ask nervously, feeling a little twinge of jealousy that he may have done this before with someone else. 

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, “if I was capable of getting girls out in the wild do you think I would’ve signed up for this?” You laugh a little. “Trust me,” he further explains, “This is not something I never imagined I could do before talking to you.”

“Okay, okay, I take it back,” you reply, and you're sure he can hear your smile through the wall. “Let me rephrase,” you say, taking a deep breath, “What does bringing me to a show look like?”

“Well,” he exhales, “I’d pick you up, in my really nice and not sketchy at all van that doesn’t make any questionable noises. I usually drive the guys too but honestly, fuck them, I want us to have time together. I don’t mind telling them to pound sand. And don’t feel bad for them, they’re also kind of assholes.” 

You can’t help but giggle, noticing he tends to have that effect on you. He makes you nervous in a really good way, and you try hard to fight it, but you worry that it’s no use. As much as you find yourself really enjoying mystery boy’s company, you can’t help but let that fear creep in that all of this will go away if he ever sees you. 

“But anyways,” he continues, “I’ll admit it, I’m a little bit of a show off. And I know if you were there watching me, I’d just like be putting my all into it. I would really try hard to impress you. I’d also want the pricks there to know you’re with me so no one bothers you, so as much as I know you’d hate it, I would point you out and tell the whole place you’re there with me.” 

Your face is so warm, and you can’t hold back the cheesy smile that has expanded across your whole face. You can’t believe a guy would be genuinely that proud to have you there with him. You really do think that he’s being genuine, and it makes your heart soar. 

“I’m really surprised you don’t have girls fawning over you, rockstar,” you smile, wanting to make him feel special too. Even if this crashes and burns, you can tell he’s a sweet guy. You can see that maybe he’ll let you down gently. You don’t know why your insecurities hold you down this much. You, more than anyone, get in the way of your own happiness. You’re determined to not let it affect you this deeply. You resolve to let yourself see how this goes, and to throw yourself into it- willing to get hurt. 

“Trust me,” he scoffs, “I am not what you’re thinking I am. I’m not like that guy, I’m more awkward than anything. I think girls are more interested in the football star guys, the future suits, you know? Guys with a haircut and go to college- They don’t want to waste their time with a going nowhere punk.” 

“I really don’t think that’s true,” you speculate, “There’s no one with a poster of Jack Welch on their wall- but every girl I know has a picture of Eddie VanHalen.” 

“Is there like a peephole in here or something?” He says jokingly, knocking on the wall, like he’s looking for one. “Or are you just a psychic or something?” 

“What are you even talking about?” You chuckle, raising an eyebrow, confused. You shake your head, but before you can’t get clarification, the buzzer sounds, marking the end of your time with him for today. 

“NOOO,” you hear him dramatically exhale. A muffled voice, your assuming is one of the lab techs must be exhausted. 

You press your hand to the wall, as your form of an intimate goodbye as the technician holds the door open for you. You get up from your spot and head out, excited to come back tomorrow for another round of dates. 

Leaving Hawkins Lab, each test subject needs to stagger there exits as to not risk accidentally seeing the other candidates. You are in a small waiting room, doing your daily exit interview with one of the neuroscientists. 

*** 

Under the agreement you signed when you volunteered for the experiment, you are not permitted to go to any locations where people socialize and congregate. You’re not permitted to go anywhere where you may accidentally see or meet one of the other subjects. You are required to only go out on necessary errands such as grocery shopping or appointments. 

On the drive back to your apartment, your mind keeps overplaying the worst case scenarios your anxiety keeps conjuring. You know the whole point of the experiment is to see if love, or whatever trumps physical attraction. If hypothetically, someone does fall in love with you- your appearance shouldn’t be a factor. However, it’s not wrong for you to want your partner to be attracted to you. And you acknowledge physical attraction is a thing and if you aren’t someone’s type that isn’t bad either. Your past experiences and unresolved childhood traumas surrounding your appearance and self-esteem, makes it difficult to allow yourself to see that you are actually desirable. 

Although unknown to you, a lot of people in this experiment feel the exact same way. Not fitting into the box society wants to slot them in has made dating incredibly difficult for many. There’s a comfort knowing everyone there supposedly wants the same thing as you, just to be loved. You weren’t sure going in that you would even make connections with anyone. At first, it felt like low stakes- worst case scenario you walk away no better off than before. But, you didn’t anticipate actually hitting it off with someone like you have, and it’s opened a whole new set of fears. 

***

At his trailer, Eddie just stares up at the vent in the ceiling above his bed. He blows out another puff of smoke and watches as it swirls and wafts up into the air around him. His thoughts are consumed entirely with you. He watches how the smoke from his blunt mixes with the smoke of his burning incense and his mind drifts, just completely fixated on how the minutes on the clock tick by until he can talk to you again. 

He wonders if you’re thinking about him, the same way he’s thinking about you. He wonders if you’re trying to picture what he looks like the same way he’s making guesses about you. He thinks about if you smoke, and he imagines what it’d be like if he was sharing this with you. Thinking about what it would look like, your lips around the joint, blowing out smoke from what he imagines is just a sexy mouth. He can’t help but close his eyes and let a little frustrated groan escape at the thought. 

He can’t picture the entirety of you, but more so he can imagine just your presence in his room. He imagines the feeling of someone laying beside him, smooth skin he can run his hands across, the warmth radiating off of another body in his bed. He has your voice in his head, wishing you were talking to him now. 

With his eyes closed, joint put aside on his ashtray, he imagines it’s your hands tugging down his jeans, and it’s your hand wrapping around his hard cock that’s staining the band of his boxers now. He thinks about your laugh, and that adorable giggle of yours, and how much he can bask in the fact that it’s him who elicits those reactions from you. He thinks about the sweet voice, the flirty fluctuations of your tone when you warmed up to him. He imagines you using that same voice to tease him if you were here, seeing just how much of a mess you’ve made of him. 

He’s never been able to get off without some kind of visual aid, so to speak, before. Now, he’s practically whimpering just thinking about the sound of your voice and thinking about your hands on him. He thinks about the feeling of your hands working his length up and down. He imagines how playful it would be, rolling around on this bed with you as the layers you're both wearing come off. He doesn’t even need to try to think about what you look like to feel aroused by you. He doesn’t even care in the slightest at this moment. 

He’s so needy, twitching as he feels himself get closer, and he thinks about what you would be whispering in his ear to get him to finish. He imagines the praise, and the way you would be begging for his cum. He realizes he doesn’t even know your name, as he’s hit with the urge to call it out. 

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he moans instead, working himself up to his release. He keeps moaning out his little nickname for you until he’s made a mess of his shirt and he’s gasping to catch his breath as his orgasm extracted all the energy from his body. 

Tomorrow, he resolves, he needs to learn your name. 

PART TWO

[supersizemeplz]

Loaded Teas & Introductions

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Black PlusSized Reader

A #supersizedfic mini. I heard this mashup on TikTok and fell in love. But the initial one shot is inspired by a comment I seen if hearing it and seeing the love of your life. So here’s the mashup and I hope you enjoy. Excuse any typos.

Its this one thing that caught me slippin..

It’s this one thing, I want to admit it..

It’s this one thing and I was so wit it…

The soles of the regularly worn sneakers met the pavement in rhythm to the instrumental of the mix that played. Yahya smirked at the smooth blend of the two songs. Greeting the few people he passed, he made his way to his favorite spot for loaded teas. The headphones on his head made him feel as if he stood inside the song. The words floated around him as he moved his shoulders softly whilst nodding. 

Pushing the glass door open, he was hit with a rush of cool air and the aroma of faint sweetness. Light bounced off the tiled floor to add to the brightness of the room. Soft tones danced on the walls and matched the relaxed decor of the establishment. He pushed back a headphone from his ear and softened his music. A smile graced his lips. 

“Sup, Ya. How’s it going man?” The asian barista greeted him with a smile. His dark hair was pulled into a bun atop his head as he stood behind the counter. The soft blue uniform hugged his body comfortably, showing off his toned figure. Short sleeves hid the top of the colorful artwork that adorned his left arm. “The usual or would you like to try our new flavor?” He raised an arched brow for added affect. 

“A new flavor?” Ya smirked. “You know I’m down for whatever magic you make, brother. Let’s w switch it up.” Xen smiled, clapping his hands together before getting to work. 

Ya turned to lean against the counter as he waited for his order. Catching up with his old colleague like usual. He laughed at a joke that Xen said as he looked to the door that notified the entry of another customer. His eye caught her hips hugged by the sundress she wore. But when he caught that smile..

“Whoa..” He breathed the words just loud enough for Xen to hear. “She’s beautiful.”

“Who?” The barista raised an eyebrow and followed his line of sight. A smile caught his lips and he sat the finished drink on the counter. “Ohhh, beautiful she is. Why don’t I introduce you to her?” He lifted a hand to the smiling woman that had bent down to coo at the toddler of a customer close to the door. 

Once she stood, her eyes found them both at the counter. She smiled bigger as she approached. Ya couldn’t help but return the expression. As she got closer, he noticed the light catch the glint from her septum ring. “Xen. How is the world treating you today, brother?” Her full lips were glossed and he took in every word she spoke. 

“I’m doing amazing, actually. I got a workout in before my shift, I have a date tonight, and my good friend came to see me.” Xen gave a gentle tap to Yahya’s shoulder. “Yahya, meet Yana. She’s good friend of Samaria. She was a bridesmaid at our wedding.”

Yana held out a hand, meeting his eyes for the first time. Ya felt his heart skip a beat as he accepted her soft touch, losing himself in a trance. The song he was listening to earlier was hushed and on repeat. He felt like this was a scene in a movie. Her lips moved but he didn’t hear the words leaving them. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yahya.” Her words finally broke through with a giggle. Ya snapped from his admiring with a nervous chuckle, rubbing his neck once he freed her hand. Mumbling a ‘Sorry’. 

“Uh, you can just call me Ya. If you’d like?” He grinned, standing up straight. Xen coughed to cover his laugher, getting a quick side eye from Ya. Sending him off to fix her usual order with a smirk. Yana had amusement in her eyes as he nodded, repeating the nickname. 

“Ok, Ya. I like that name. It rolls off the tongue..” She looked up at him through her lashes. “How long have you known Xen?”

“We were good friends in college. Shared an apartment together the last two years of college.” He explained. “He’s the reason I got through Calculus II.”

“He is a wizard with numbers.” She added in. Getting a theatrical bow from Xen. They all laughed as he placed her drink on the counter by Ya’s. She thanked him with an excited squeal as she paid. After declining Xen’s offer for it be on the house.  “I always look forward to my drink for the day.”

“Me too. I hate I can’t get over here more often.” Ya took a sip of his. Giving a hum of approval. “But i make sure to find time out the week to come over and visit.”

After a few minutes of conversation, the bell dinged to introduce a group of customers. Moving both Ya and Yana off to the side by themselves. She looked off for a moment and he got a glimpse of her close up. Her features were soft and he wondered if her skin felt as soft as he imagined. The scent of her perfume was soft and similar to strawberries. He loved it. 

“Sorry, if I’m being to forward but..” He cleared his throat before straightening up. Mentally encouraging himself. “Would you allow me treat you to dinner sometime? Just a night of me proving myself to you.”

[shotgunbunny]

═ஓ๑♡𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜♡๑ஓ═

WC:4.7k+ GIF by cavill-henry

{dark!clark kent X camgirl!reader}

{warnings!!! Age gap not specified but there is one!! Masturbation!! Exhibition?! Smut!! DUBCON/NONCON!! Dirty talk!! Breeding kink!! Stalking!! Mentions of murder!! Seems like a sweetheart but he isn't Clark!! Lois bashing!! Threats!!! Stockholm Syndrome!!!}

Clark was absolutely baffled by you. You were a puzzle that he couldn't figure out and he was absolutely obsessed with the game. You challenged him without knowing. You challenged his control, his nobility, his very will of remaining good. But he was a simple bat of eyelashes away from snapping and ruining his reputation.

You worked with him in the office. While he worked on the small sports articles you worked beside him on small fashion articles. You put your heart into every little report on the newest line of shoes coming out, and every fashion tip that was current floating around. Clark often would allow himself to stare at you typing, your bottom lip wedged between your teeth until you realised the cliché you were doing. You would blink and giggle quietly and then head back to typing after your small mental break.

Clark took in the sparkle of your eyes everytime, how they lit up over your cliché and how romance books had bled it's terribly cute habits into your actions. He was hypnotized with every giggled behind your small hands, every strand of hair that you swept out of your face. He was just entranced in you, he had been the day he first met you.

He remembers so clearly how Lois teased him and how he rolled his eyes at her. He did enjoy her company but she could not hold a firey candle to your sun light beaming on him. Clark almost considered her his muse at one point, but then he stumbled upon you and he was ignited with a vigor for humanity like never before. Lois was bitter at first from loosing his attention but when she started receiving threats and dead birds on her doorstep she soon stopped, far too consumed in her own fear to try and ruin Clarks love.

It was worth it. Everything was. Clark had everything where he wanted and soon you'd be his, but for now he would stare at you working and as he drowned in your beauty he felt himself slip into daydreams of when you first met.

Clark had been working particularly hard all night saving Metrocity from villains that seemed to linger around every corner. And when he was finally done defeating the wrong doers, he realised he had to get to work, so he bolted home and changed out of Superman and into Clark Kent. He let out a huff, feeling exhausted already, his limbs ached slightly and his body craved sleep.

He headed to work, stopping once for a bagel and a coffee before quicky paying and shooting back into the street eager to get to work on time. As he entered the elevator he let out a sigh and soon a yawn slipped past his lips. As the doors opened he slowly headed to his desk and drank his coffee, desperate to consume it so that it could provide him with energy. As he sat down he turned to his left and saw the usually empty desk, not empty. Infact it was almost as if there was someone who moved into the booth. He furrowed his brows and his answers were quickly met when he scanned the area and saw Perry leading a girl out.

"Attention everyone, this is our new employee Y/N. She'll be working on the fashion section. Treat her kindly, that's all. Get back to work." The words echoed around the area and Clark felt his heart race. You were going to sit next to him. A smile graced his lips as he saw you gracefully walk to your desk. You sat down and turned to look at Clark. He smiled, drinking in the familiarity of your eyes. They were so beautiful he was able to recognize them anywhere from in person to online. He held a steady hand out to you and you smiled, your cheeks raising and blushing over how polite the handsome co-worker was.

He couldn't help himself from trying to provoke you so he stared fully into you eyes, allowing himself to drown in your attention. "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." He noted your heart racing before it slowed down. You stared at him, a smile still gracing your lips and you blinked slowly before turning to your computer. You glanced at him before gracing him with your voice in person, "You might have, you might not have. Who cares? We're here now." You flashed him a smile with teeth completely wiping him out. He was absolutely smitten with you. Ever since he saw you online he knew, you were utterly perfect.

He returned your toothy smile with his own before speaking, "You're absolutely correct. We are here now and I am absolutely ecstatic to have a booth partner. I hope you're ready for my to grumble over the Chiefs loosing." You giggled at him, and then began getting on with work allowing idle natter to float between you two. All the while Lois stared at you both, seeing the charm oozing off Clark and how you repaid it with your giggles and smiles. She was absolutely furious, how dare this little bimbo steal his attention, she had known Clark longer and been through more than you could ever know with him.

You smiled at him and giggled, you were accepting his flirts and you accepted them with pride. Clark knew that. He could tell with the way your eyes sparkled. Which is why he decided to shower you with his shy comments everyday at work. Commenting how pretty your eyes were, how cute your dress was all with rosy cheeks and a small stutter. It was worth his awkward stuttering to see you beam with pride just from his words.

Today was no different, he had told you how great you looked but ofcourse in his own way. "You look- stunning- I mean f-fantastic." And you did, your lips glossed and plump, your cheeks lightly blushed with pretty eyelashes that made you eyes look magnificent. You giggled bringing a hand up and hiding your giggle behind it but he heard it regardless and was swimming in adoration from the sound.

After a full day of working and using his charm on you, he had distinguished your real blush from your makeup blush and that alone filled his ego. He made you blush. As you both headed for the elevator, you pulled your phone out and began typing. All the while, Clark, you and Lois as well as a few other co workers stuffed into the small space. When you put your phone back in your pocket, Clark felt his vibrate. He pulled it out and saw your notification to the public.

'Tonight at 8 cst! Prepare yourself angels, I am dripping from work.'

Clark smirked. He made you blush and he made you wet. He knew that ofcourse, he could smell your sweet juice from where he sat, but seeing you openly say you were dripping from work made his cock stir. The elevator stopped on the last floor and opened. Everyone promptly said goodbye, Clark flashed you a wink and a smile and you looked down blushing before heading home. He watched you rush away, God you were cute.

"You know Smallville, why not make a move?" Clark turned his head, his eyes still focused on you. "The times not right. Did you get in touch with Superman yet? See if he'll help you?" Lois heaved a sigh and shook her head, "He won't even try and see me anymore, but the dead animals have finally stopped and the threats are slowly stopping too." Clark nodded. Ofcourse Superman wouldn't see her anymore, he had someone else to watch. It was true he had stopped his extreme threats but that's due to Lois calming down and accepting the fact that he was very inlove with you.

And with that Clark walked away, excitement coursing through his veins for tonight. Soon he was gonna break, and if tonight was any good, he was going to break so incredibly quick and then snap you up without a second thought.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Today had been such a good day at work. You finished your article and Perry loved it, well he loved how it was written. And Clark kept flirting with you. So much that you were sure if he called you pretty one more time your heart would have exploded from how much it was beating. You did have an enormous crush on Clark, he was such a gentleman and it definitely helped how beautiful he was. His chiseled jaw and his hypnotic blue eyes always lulled you into staring at his beautiful face. You sighed, as much as you'd love to date him, you knew some of his views were a little outdated and if you told him about your second job he would be absolutely disgusted by you.

It didn't bother you, it just annoyed you. Many men in the world watched porn yet the second their partner suggested doing it they would often grimace and grumble. But you didn't care, the extra money was amazing and the thrill of being watched by so many people was enchanting. You remember one time after you had just cum and ended your stream, you were cleaning yourself up, clad only in a dressing gown when Superman appeared on your balcony.

Your heart jumped in your throat, scared of what might happen when suddenly he furrowed his brows and stared at you concern swirling in his eyes. "Is everything okay here? I heard screams." You blushed looking down, Superman had heard you cumming! Shame filled you veins and you mumbled out to him, "Yes I'm fine. I'm so sorry it was um my um pleasured noises. I'm a cam girl." Your heart was racing after telling the literal alien your job. You peaked up from the floor and saw his eyes widen and then a soft smile coat his lips, a light blush appearing on the tips of his ears. "It's absolutely fine angel. Just as long as you're okay. I'm sorry for disturbing you." And with that he flew off.

After that you decided that you needed a job and that when you joined The Daily Planet. You didn't see Superman after that incident except for on the news and you felt relieved knowing that he didn't say anything or harass you. Infact you didn't even think he cared. You smiled, he was a good man.

You got changed out of your dress and took your soaked panties off and threw them on the wash. You changed into a lace lingerie and put a sheer dressing gown on. You had eaten dinner and done your chores, so now it was time for some fun. You pulled out your vibrator and dildo and placed them next to you on your bed. You set your laptop up in the perfect place and got ready for the stream. When you started it, you saw many fill in, but decided for the first five minutes to moisturise your legs while you waited for any sticklers to join.

After you were done you smiled at the camera. "Hi there everyone. I have been so wet all day. I woke up from a naughty dream about a certain flying superhero and then I had to go to work where a co worker got my panties soaked!" You said it all with a sultry voice making sure to purse your lips and push your tits together to look pretty in the camera while saying the naughtiest things. You looked at the comments and blushed.

s.man.kent: God what a naughty slut, both of those men deserve to ruin your tight holes.

filth.y.lover: you should sell those dirty underwear

want.to.fucck: god I am so fuckin hard for you.

dirtyyy.daddyyy: get on with it you dirty slut.

You slowly slid your gown off revealing more flesh to your watchers. You got on your knees and played with the band of your panties before you slid your hands up to your tits and squeezed them in the bra. You then pulled it off watching the tips roll in. You smiled and then pinched your nipples seeing them harden behind the fabric, you saw how desperate the men were so you unstrapped your bra and let your breasts out with a fake gasp knowing that everyone that was watching thrived on your sounds. You threw your bra on the floor and stared at the camera, slowly bringing you hands up to cup your tits letting out a moan when you rubbed your thumb over your nipples.

You then decided it was time to get into the main event, and brought your panties down showing your wet, little pussy to everyone, you moaned and slapped your cunt making sure everyone heard how wet you were. You smiled coyly at the camera, a blush coating your cheeks before you reached for your dildo and started to grind against it all while making little sighs and fluttering your eyes giving the illusion of intense pleasure when in reality it was just a tiny buzz. Once the toy was soaking you lined the head up and slowly thrusted up with a loud erotic moan. You slowly started thrusting faster watching all the tips fly in.

You reached out and grabbed your vibe placing it firmly on your clit before flicking it on and whining over the buzz. You turned the vibrations up until your thighs were shaking, you knew you were close to cumming and decided to thrust a little faster making your eyes roll back and pornographic moans to pour out of your soft lips. "I'm gonna cum-" You moaned loudly and convulsed feeling pleasure swipe over you. You layed there, sweating you vibrator laying on the bed still buzzing and your pussy still hugging onto the dildo. You pulled yourself up and turned your vibrator off, and slowly slid your toy out. You smiled, a heavy blush on your cheeks, "Thank you everyone for joining me today, I'll definitely buy some new toys." You giggled and winked before ending the stream.

You sighed and took a shower needing to clean your thighs up. After you were finished you went to check your phone and saw texts from Perry.

'Interview with Superman tomorrow at 2pm. Get something good out of him.'

Your eyebrows knitted and you stared confused. Why were you getting the interview and not Lois. Did he remember you and was finally about to shame you? Your heart skipped a beat. Oh god what if he was going to expose you. With a shaky sigh you prepared yourself for tomorrow and headed to bed.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You left out a sigh, your nerves were acting up severely. This was going to be the biggest story ever and you were chosen. It didn't even fit you, you knew nothing about him! You worked in the fashion department for God's sake! When you asked Perry about this weird choice he said that Superman had requested you himself. You felt your heart race at what could happen and with no Clark around to help you calm down, you were melting in fear.

You made it to the rooftop where a table and 2 chairs were, you headed over to it and set up your notes and your recorder. You heard a 'whoosh'. You didn't need to turn to know who it was. Your heart raced with everyone heavy step that walked to the chair opposite you. You stared at him, taking in his muscular form in his suit and bringing your eyes up to his face as he sat down. He smiled at you. He then opened his mouth and spoke softly and you felt calm settle into your heart, "I do apologise if I have scared you, but Lois has been stalking me and I didn't want to be interviewed by someone who constantly wanted me involved in her personal life."

You felt your heart calm yet your mind started turning faster at hearing his voice. You smiled at him nodding, "I will admit I was incredibly confused as to why. I was scared you were going to say something about our last meeting." A dark look glazed over Superman's eyes and a smirk took over his face. "Oh angel, what makes you think I'm not going to?" You laughed awkwardly thinking he was joking. Yet when he stood up and shoved his chair back, you began to panic. You eyes widened as he stood straight, the power radiating off him was so intimidating that it caused fear to run into your veins.

"After our first meeting I was desperate for more of you. I heard you, and then I smelt you," He appeared before you and sniffed your hair making you shiver and let out a cry. "God your little pussy smelt divine, every part of you smelt perfect. I knew though that if I appeared to you again as Superman you'd be terrified so I did something better." You stared up at the hero, horror filling your heart as you saw the dark side of him. You stood up and took an unsteady step back. He chuckled at you, "You can't outrun me. So be a good girl and sit down and listen to me, and I'll be gentle with you. Got it?" You gulped your terror down, tears gathering in your eyes, a shaky whisper leaving your throat, "G-got it."

You sat down, soon Superman's large hands held your face, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. "Good girl. You see I thought if you were a cam girl it meant you'd have no idea who was watching and luckily for you, I was one of them. You made my cock so hard yesterday telling the stream that I made your cute little panties wet." You shook, it shouldn't have scared you. Afterall you agreed to let the word see you naked but the fact that someone who you knew was watching made your skin crawl.

He tilted your head up and stared up at him. "But the best part was interacting with you nearly every day baby. Look into my eyes, you know them." You stared into his blue orbs and slowly you felt your heard stop. "Clark?" He smiled brightly at you. "Smart girl! That's right! I've been beside you this whole time, and God hasn't it been wonderful, don't you think we'd be better together though?" You shook your head, "Clark this is crazy!"

"Crazy?! What's crazy is dealing with your fucking scent every day, thinking about you bouncing on my cock! I've gone insane just thinking about you being mine! I've done terrible things for you!". Your heart hammered as his eyes slowly glowed red in anger. "All the innocent blood on my hands is your fault. I've killed so many men just because they dared look at your naked body." You stared at him, tears trickling down your face. "Please-Clark."

He rolled his eyes and picked you up, before flying quickly to his house. He threw you on his bed. He locked all the doors and windows before heading back to you. You let out a sob, as he began stripping out of his suit. You saw his tone body be revealed inch by inch, knowing second by second your fate was sealed and you couldn't fight it. You stared as his hard cock sprang free. He stared at you with a hungry look before he quickly tore your dress off.

He eagerly started kissing you, making you hiss at how hard he pressed his lips to yours. You knew your lips would be bruised by his strength. His lips slowly descended down your body, making sure to leave his mark every step of the way. You felt his smile as he was at the valley of your breasts. Your heart raced and soon you let out a gasp as Clark took a nipple between his lips and suckled on it. You felt his tongue circle your hard bud and you arched your back. He smirked and bit your nipple gently. He then descended upon the other, making sure your breasts were drowning in pleasure.

He moved his large hand between your legs finding you soaked. He let out a groan and you soon felt his cock slide along your slit, you closed your eyes. He felt huge and that was from simply feeling the tip being dragged against your folds. Your felt him place his huge tip against your clit and he began humping, you gasped at the pleasure. Your hands flew around his shoulders and your wrapped your legs around his waist.

"God you're such a good slut. I knew this pussy was divine, it's so sensitive for me isn't it. Good. It means it will milk my cock. We want that baby, we want you to accept all my cum so you can be swollen with my child. Fuckin show everyone that you're mine."

He chuckled and gave a few more thrusts before he pulled his cock away. You opened your eyes and stared up into his. He looked amused before he leaned down and gently encased your lips in his. He soon began to push the tip of his cock into your small hole. He let out a groan while you whined, your nails digging into his bag and he slowly wedged himself into your cunt. You felt the tip pop in and then the rest of him thrusted in fast. You wailed at the size of him and he cooed down at you.

"Fuck, did so good baby. Taken my cock so well. Took every inch like a good girl. Doesn't it feel nice to be filled. Just wait your gonna be properly filled soon. Fuck your cunt is so fucking tight and warm. I'm in heaven."

He slowly started thrusting, dragging against your tight wet walls. You panted at the feeling, he lowered his forehead down onto yours whispering filthy words as he slowly adjusted you to his cock. Molding your pussy to his dick. He groaned as he felt yourself get wetter. He started to increase the speed of his thrusts.

He brought a big hand down to your button and began circling it vigorously, all while he breathed hard down on you mixed with grunts and groans. You moans egged him on and soon he began pounding your little pussy, making sure that his balls slapped against your ass and his pubes rubbed against his hand while he was playing with your clit.

"God I've always known that your moans were fake on stream, but here you are. Moaning like a fucking whore for my cock. I'm a god to you. You pussy is gonna weep for me just like how my cock weeps for you. I'm gonna treat you and this cunt so fucking good. Gonna be my prized possession!"

You dragged your nails down his broad back babbling for more, you felt yourself close to cumming. Clark was playing your body like a toy, and it didn't surprise you. Afterall he watched all your streams and knew how to play with your little pussy perfectly. You heard him pant, and he pressed his torso against yours before he kissed you and allowed for his cock to spear in and out of you.

"Fuck, I love you so much baby. I know your close. Can you feel how close we are. Isn't it perfect, your cunt was designed for me, and I was designed for you. I'll keep you safe forever. I promise."

He slowed for a moment and stared down at you, embracing this moment before he began thrusting again. His tip rubbing against your gspot every time. He let his hips guide him to an inhuman pace as he let himself drown in your essence. You whined and whimpered over how much his cock was beating your insides up.

"M-m gonna cum! Clark!" You didn't recognise your voice. Clark was right you were a slut. His cock had fucked the thoughts out of you head and turned you into his obedient cock slut. "Do it baby! Coat my cock! Mark me as yours. And then I'm gonna fucking fill you. Gonna get you pregnant! We're gonna be a perfect fucking family."

Your thighs began to shake and soon you coated his cock in your cum. He groaned deeply, his voice vibrating in your head. He felt your cunt tighten around him and he thrusted a few more times before his balls tightened up and he came in youm filling you up. He left his cock in you and collapsed, his head snuggled into the crook of your neck and his arms winded around your body.

"I love you. Did so good." He whispered before he fell into a slumber.

You couldn't escape ever. You knew it now. He had cum in you and there was no getting out of that, let alone escape a god like being. You felt tears stream down your face as your brought your hands to play with Clarks hair as he slept peacefully.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Living in Texas was quite a change but Clark wanted you at his home when you were going to give birth. You were excited. You had Martha there who would help you with your 2, one year olds who kicked up a fuss whenever daddy had to go.

You watched as Clark brought all the boxes into the house, displaying his strength. You smiled staring at your husband. You'd lost track of how long you drowned yourself in the illusion that you loved him. But you know that somewhere along the line it stopped being an illusion and that you had fallen in love with the devil incarnate.

Clark stepped into the room, he saw you staring at him, loving look in your eyes. He turned to look behind you and saw his mother feeding his twin children. He smiled, and turned to you. Adoration lighting up his face as he came up to you and placed a kiss gently on your forehead. You were so well behaved. Ever since you gave up everything was perfect.

Clark remembers the first and last time your tried to escape, you screams over the punishment you were given. The silent treatment you gave him after. How he had to implement fear into you, just to get you to love him. It was worth it. It got him his family. He looked down and saw your growing stomach and smiled.

He turned and began unpacking boxes making sure to make this house a home. He bought the neighbouring farm to his mothers house and he intended on making it perfect. You had already began nesting upstairs, letting your kids sleep with you in the big bed while Clark was gone.

Clark was so proud of you for becoming the wonderful mother that you are and amazing wife you were destined to be. You often begged for his cock which filled him with so much joy and boosted his ego. You were destined for him from the very beginning and he couldn't help but take advantage of that.

He unpacked all the photo albums, the precious memories that were kept in there were truly beautiful. From your first picture together when you were working at the Daily Planet with Clark to the newest photo of you holding a pregnancy test with a beaming smile on your face. He was so excited for child number three.

He had a son and a daughter so he was already overjoyed, but seeing you full with his child always made him ecstatic and he planned on keeping you pregnant for as long as possible. You walked into the living room staring at Clark as he gazed down at the photo album, you smiled. "Don't I look pretty in every picture?"

Clarks head shot up and he smiled at you. He stood up at full height before waking towards you. He towered you, something you adored now. Yet it was something that used to fill you with dread. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "You look pretty all the time, picture or not."

You blushed and smiled up at him bashfully. "I could say the same for you honey." He chuckled, "I always thought I was handsome not pretty." You giggled and leaned your head against his chest listening to his heartbeat. "Handsome, pretty, who cares when you're my husband." He wrapped his arms around you. "Damn right baby. Just like you're mine. Completely and utterly mine."

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 6

content warning: fluff!, mentions of alcohol, uses of Spanish (if wrong, PLEASE correct me), boy-mom tendencies coming from Conchata, judging coming once again from Conchata (she means well, I promise. it just takes her a while to get there), mentions/pics of food, some PDA, it gets a little suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, Tyler + Nancy + Kron are all white for those who don’t know, Miggy still looks like ATSV Mig though, this is probably the LAST time that sorority party is mentioned, some body insecurity, Kron is a moron + freak, some violence at the end

word count: 8.5k, kinda proofread (no comment 😒 just buckle up)

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GymRat!Miguel who hopes his package makes it to you in time for New Year's. He hates that he can't just come and see you. He wanted to be with you as the clock struck 12, he always wanted to have a New Year's kiss with someone, but it felt a little silly to drop everything a drive to you. January was soon, which meant that the new semester started soon. He wasn't one to count down the days until school started, but if it meant he could be physically near you again, he would mark off the days in bright red on every calendar in the house.

GymRat!Miguel who records himself counting down with his rambunctious family in his grandma's backyard. His baby cousins are jumping up and down, throwing Pop-Its on the ground just giggling away. His aunts and uncles are yelling loudly. His mom and dad are huddled up together, his dad kissing his mom's cheeks as she laughs. George is a little drunk so he's feeling a bit more brave than usual. Gabriel and Dana are sitting in a corner, lighting sparklers to pass out to his relatives.

GymRat!Miguel who sends the video to you as soon as he can. You were probably busy with your own family so he didn't expect you to reply right away. He watched the fireworks that his uncle set off. A little dangerous with the trees being so close, but amazing nonetheless. His mom and dad gave him a group hug, then started dancing and singing loudly to Selena. He didn't even look to his Gabriel who he knew was kissing Dana's face off. He really missed you.

GymRat!Miguel who confessed everything to his Abuela as soon as she opened her mouth to say "¿Qué pasa, mi nietecito?"

He sat at the end of the table next to her, sniffling away as he rambled about everything that had happened the past semester. The late nights, the early mornings, his roommate that didn't dry off in the shower sometimes, his failed party, his missed alarms, group projects, and most importantly you.

He told her how much he missed you and how silly he felt. She rubbed his hands and reminded him that love has no bounds. She jokes about all the times she stayed with his abuelo after the stupid things he's done.

Who proposes without a ring?

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at his Abuela's stories of her younger love life. They trade stories back and forth, his stories mostly of you because you're his first true girlfriend. His Abuela listens with glee, happy to see her Miguelito so joyful. She warns him not to be like his abuelo in terms of common sense, but to be like him when it comes to how much love he has to give.

GymRat!Miguel who is eager to show her a picture of you. She is the second family member to see you outside of Gabriel, as she is one of the family members that he is closest to.

She was the one he cried to when the truth of his parent's past life unfolded. She was the one he went to when his mom berated him for the smallest things. She was the one he went to when he felt that he was competing to be seen, but he didn't want Gabriel to notice his pain. She was his everything.

He opens his growing folder full of pictures of you and scrolls to one of you during one of your library dates. You're looking up at him with the cutest smile on your face. Your glasses are falling a little bit and there's a half eaten granola bar in your hand. You were studying for an art history exam and complaining about the influx of European artists over every other continent. He had told an art joke he found on the back of a laffy taffy.

"What did the art thief say to the museum curator?" he said, getting his camera ready.

"What?" you ask, highlighting a passage.

"Give me all your Monet," he said, a snicker following.

You turn to him quickly with a giggle, "That's so silly."

"It made you laugh, though," he said, snapping a picture.

You were really sweet that day. Looked sweet, smelled sweet, and even your kisses tasted like strawberries.

His Abuela took the phone in her hands, pulling her glasses down to look at you.

A smile grows on her face as she sighs, "¡Muy hermosa!"

Miguel's heart soars. He is glad that she sees what he sees.

Of course, she wants to see you. She compliments you profusely, praising Miguel for finding such a beautiful girl. Miguel promises to bring you by one day, happy to be the bridge that connects to women who bring him such joy.

GymRat!Miguel whose bubble bursts when his mom comes up from behind, asking what he and his Abuela are talking about. He quickly brings his phone back to his chest and looks up at his mom.

“Uh, we were just talking about school,” Miguel answers.

“What are you hiding, mijo?” Conchata asks, raising her eyebrows as she tilts her head. There was a warning tone in her voice, daring him to lie.

“You’re always fussing at him! It’s New Year's, Conchata, let him relax,” his Abuela sighed.

“Ma! He is hiding something,” she says, voice getting sharper. “He’s been strange ever since he got home. What is it? Háblame.”

Miguel just let the air go from his lungs.

“We were talking about my girlfriend. I was just showing Abuela some pictures,” Miguel said, tone quiet as ever.

“That’s it? Well, can I see them?”

Miguel hesitated, not knowing how his mom would react. She could be a bit of what people described as a “boy-mom.” Despite all of the years of her nitpicking and nagging him, she still had her moments where she thought others were too good for him.

Miguel hesitantly showed her the same picture. She quickly yanked the phone and looked intensely, pinching the screen in and out.

Then she started scrolling. It would have been fine, but there were still some of the scanned Christmas photos of you that he didn’t move to his locked folder yet.

“Hey!” he said, jumping up to grab his phone. He quickly uses his height to his advantage and gets it back in his hands while his mom tried her best to keep scrolling. He looks at the photo she stopped on, one more swipe and she would see what was only meant for him. “Seriously, Ma?”

“I just wanted to see,” she said, straightening her blouse. “She’s- nice.”

Her tone was nonchalant, sarcastic.

“Nice? That’s it?” Miguel ask with his mouth turned up.

“Sí. What does she study?”

“Art.”

“Hm,” she says. “I guess you’ll be the breadwinner. If it goes that far.”

“Ma, please don’t start this,” Miguel says, feeling a headache coming on. “I already told you that this was a new relationship. One that has lasted this long for me. And there are plenty of jobs you can get with an art major!”

Conchata made a face as to say ‘really?’ with her arms folded.

Miguel looked to his Abuela with an exasperated look in his eyes.

“They are hard to get, but the world cannot move without art or love,” his Abuela says, taking Miguel’s hand in both of hers.

“Love?!” Conchata just about shouts.

Miguel just groans.

GymRat!Miguel who stomps over and yanks up Gabriel by his shirt, disconnecting him from Dana, and dragging him inside.

“Gabri. A dinner party? Really?!” Miguel huffs out, irritation high in his voice.

“Where’s ‘Hi. Hello! How are you?’ No ‘Happy New Year’s Eve, Gabriel. My darling baby brother who I love!’ Just using your sheer strength against me. Removing me from the safe arms of my girlfriend. Just rude,” Gabriel turns his nose up and folds his arms.

“You running your mouth is all the answer I need,” Miguel says as he flicks Gabriel on the head. He yelps out a cartoonish ‘yeowch!’ “Why did mom just tell me about a dinner set up to meet my girlfriend?”

“Um! Well, you see, things happen when you’re enjoying a lovely ski resort!”

Miguel just geared his hand up for another flick.

“And!” Gabriel says, leaning back with his hands up. “Sometimes little brothers have to cover up for their big brothers when they almost punch the shit out of their half brothers!”

“So you tell them to throw a dinner?”

“No! That’s not even how I roll. All I said was that you were probably talking to her. Blame Nancy. And Tyler. And ma! Once Nancy suggested it, ma was ready to tag along. She’s been trying to stick her nose into your life for years.”

Miguel’s shoulders just slumped.

He pulled Gabriel in for a hug, “Sorry Gabri. I should have just asked you. She was just being really weird about the whole thing.”

“It’s ok, nobody knows your heart like me. But, do you really think it’ll be that bad?”

Miguel pondered that question.

“Hopefully not. I won’t let it get awful. She doesn’t deserve that,” Miguel says.

“Let’s look at the bright side. Tyler likes her. Dad likes her. Nancy’s opinion doesn’t really matter, but she likes anything Tyler likes. Kron is an idiot. And I definitely like her.”

Miguel clicks his teeth.

“Oh don’t make that face, Miguel. You know you love me!” he says and puckers at Miguel’s face.

“Ew, get away from me. You were just slobbering all over Dana,” Miguel says as he pushes Gabriel away and turns to go to his designated room.

“You’re so mean!”

GymRat!Miguel who answers within seconds when you call as he sits on the bed.

“Happy New Year!” you sing out, dragging the ‘year’ in a cute melody.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he says, smiling at your cuteness.

“I got your package!” you say, fighting with the phone to stay straight. You finally get it steady and start backing up. “It’s so comfy! The chest part is a little snug, though. Nothing too crazy.”

You stand in the middle of the camera. Miguel had delivered a bunch of his old sweaters to you after you mentioned wanting to snuggle during one of your FaceTimes.

He did everything to make sure they smelled like him. He used a specific detergent. He sprayed them in his cologne. He even wore them each for a set amount of time.

The one you were wearing was merchandise from when Gabriel decided he wanted to play basketball. You turned around and Miguel was met with ‘O’Hara’ printed across the back and your cute little shorts.

“Do you like it?” Miguel asked, internally freaking out. You’re wearing his clothes and his name.

“I love it!” you say, grabbing the phone and climbing onto your bed. “They smell like you too. I feel nice and warm.”

You brought the neck of the shirt up over your nose, eyes smiling at the screen. You were going to be the death of him. He’s become jealous over cotton and wool.

“Can I see it one more time?” Miguel asked, eyes heavy as he sat back against the headboard.

You popped up from your cocoon of his sweater and bit your lip, “Is this riling you up, Miguel?”

“More than you know. How could it not? My girl is wearing my clothes,” Miguel replied earnestly.

He heard you let out a soft noise, embarrassed as you stretched the phone out.

“Yeah, I’m really loving this,” Miguel said, voice lower.

You brought the phone back to your heated face, still not used to that type of response from Miguel.

“Don’t hide from me, cariño,” Miguel said, watching as you fanned your face. “Let me see you.”

“Cariño?!” you say, heart beating even more.

“Are you not my sweetie? My baby? My girl?” he asked, looking at you playfully.

You just rolled to the side and let out a huff.

“You’re teasing me,” you say, voice just above a whisper.

“Not teasing. Just admiring,” he says, eyes twinkling.

You bite the nail of your thumb, “I have an old selfie stick. I can go get that if you want to see more.”

“Please!” Miguel all but shouts.

You giggle as you run to get it out the of box. Miguel’s anticipating the show as he listens to you throwing things across the room.

When you get your phone high in the sky to pan over your body, it takes everything within Miguel to not start howling. Your legs were glowing, thighs full and ready for him to grip and bite. Your shorts were squeezing your hips. Most importantly, his sweater was stretching across your chest.

“God, I wish I was there,” Miguel groaned, rearranging his pants. His excitement was making his clothes feel uncomfortable.

“Me too,” you say, panning the camera back to your face. “I want my muscle bear.”

“Yeah?” Miguel asked, smiling at the screen. He loved it when you called him that.

“Mm hm,” you reply, picking at a loose thread. “I told my mom about us. She was getting worried and said I was walking around the house like a ghost. She’s excited to meet you.”

Miguel sat up straight, heart dropping. That was a stark difference from his mom.

“That’s great! When does she want to meet? I need to get her a gift. Is she still looking for that travel bag set? Or do you think she would prefer a meal?”

“Miguel-”

“I can ask my Abuela to help me make something. Does she have a favorite restaurant? Should I wear a suit? Business casual, maybe.”

“Mig-”

“I need to get her some flowers too. Does she have a favorite flower? Oh my gosh. Is she allergic?”

“Miguel!” you speak up, laughing at his state. “Calm down. It won’t happen until like, next month. You have enough time to prepare.”

“Baby, don’t laugh! This is important. I have to make a good impression,” Miguel pouts.

“And you will! I’ve already told her so much about you.”

He actively gulps, “Even the party?”

“Ok, that didn’t go over too well. She ran her mouth to my dad about that. But! She doesn’t blame you,” you say, calming tone.

“She hates me. Your dad hates me. How am I going to win them over?” he says, dramatically bopping his head against the wall.

“Miguel,” you sigh. He just groans out shaking his head from side to side. “Baby, look at me.”

The cursed baby card had Miguel at attention.

“You’re sweet. You’re handsome. You’re intelligent. And you’re charming. I promise you, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” you say, reassuring him.

Miguel nods slowly.

“You think I’m handsome?” smile creeping back.

“Oh my god. Is that all you got from that?”

“No! But you called me handsome, so I have to lock that away.”

“You also have himbo tendencies,” you respond.

“All the better to fawn over you with, cariño.”

GymRat!Miguel who curses when the pictures of you in his sweater come in shortly after you in the call. One of them is you on your stomach with the ‘O’Hara’ on full display with your underwear and ass peaking out.

He sets it as one of his wallpapers in record speed.

“How do you expect me to NOT be a himbo?”

“Feral”

“Oh my god. 😭”

GymRat!Miguel who does his same pick up and spin you around number when he sees you a couple of weeks later. You were glowing and giggly.

GymRat!Miguel who casually greets the people in the dorm lobby as he carries you to your dorm room. You didn’t even fight him, as he was always adamant with PDA. You just put your head in his neck and didn’t look up until you were at your door.

You saw the red face of one of the girls living on your hall as Miguel kissed your neck. You quickly averted your gaze, squirming so he could hurry up and open the door. Miguel just assumed you were hungry for more and took even longer to open the door.

“Mig-” you say, cut off as he groans into your skin. “The door, please.”

Your legs wrap around him tighter as he turns to where you were just looking.

“Sorry about that! Got a little excited,” he says to the girl with a wink. She turns even darker and it looks as if steam is about to escape her head as she scurries down the hallway.

“Rude.”

“Miguel!”

“What? She could have said something instead of just watching us.”

“Just please. Open the door, you goof.”

“Yes ma’am!”

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that Jess won’t be there until tomorrow afternoon. He lays you out on your bed and hovers over you.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he says and drops his body on yours. You let out an ‘oof’ relishing in his dead weight.

“I missed you too, Miggy,” you say, patting his head. “Enough to be on my bed with outside clothes on.”

Miguel looks at you, sheepish. “I’ll help you wash them. And pay for it.”

“Yeah you will. But for now,” you pull him close and bring his lips to yours. “Let’s enjoy this.”

He loses track of time and kisses you until your stomach growls for dinner.

GymRat!Miguel who goes all out for Valentine’s Day. He opted to buy you one of the Valentine’s Day packages that the school offers, figuring that it wouldn’t hurt.

He sets up a small breakfast for you and Jess for Galentine’s as a gift for having his back. He had MJ deliver it to you, as he still had class that morning.

He sent you a photo later after his workout, one of your paper kisses on his cheek as he stood in the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist.

You almost screamed in the middle of your studio class.

To end the day, the two of you did a couple challenge in Target. Once back in his car, you both gave each other gifts.

You almost cry when his “something that reminds me of you” gift is in fact not something from Target. It’s a cute bunny necklace inside of a handmade box.

“Miguel! This is so beautiful,” you say, in awe at everything.

He puts the necklace on for you, “A bunny for my baby.”

You devour him with kisses in the Target parking lot.

GymRat!Miguel who’s sweating bullets when your mom comes to visit later that month. He woke up with his stomach rocking. He couldn’t even look Peter in the eye as he stepped out of the bathroom, apologizing profusely.

“Dude, you might not make it out of here if you don’t calm down,” Peter says while lighting a candle he definitely wasn’t supposed to have in the dorms.

“I know, I know. It’s like my body can sense the bad vibes from my brain,” Miguel says, gathering everything for today’s lunch. “I haven’t even eaten anything today.”

“Cheer up, O’Hara,” Peter says as he pats his back. “At least you’re not meeting her parents’ eyes while you’re humping their daughter in their guest bathroom!”

“Jesus, Parker.”

GymRat!Miguel who laughs when he sees Gabriel’s texts. He’s sitting in the parking lot of the meeting location an hour and a half early.

“Ik your ass has the bubble guts”

“Remember to breathe”

“And that the dinner with our mom might be waaaay worse”

“Like”

“Miles worse”

“Thanks for the words Gabri”

“Real touching”

“So you’re saying I should become a motivational speaker?”

“Got it”

“Not quite!”

GymRat!Miguel who runs open the restaurant door when sees you from the waiting area. He’s so freaking nervous.

“Hello!” he says, holding the door for you both. Your mom gives him a quick thank you as you all step inside.

“I remember you saying he was tall, but I didn’t know he was this tall!” your mom says to you as she holds Miguel’s arms.

You introduce them, “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara. Miguel, this is my mom.”

Miguel almost sputters as you casually call him your boyfriend.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Miguel says, handing her a gift bag and you both a bouquet of flowers. “I have heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” your mother says, shocked at the gifts. “And what a gentleman. You didn’t have to get me these!”

“Please,” Miguel says. “I needed to get something for the woman who brought such a gift to this world for me.”

If Miguel still wasn’t so nervous, he’d chuckle at the twin surprised looks you and your mom were sporting.

GymRat!Miguel who hits it off with your mom quite well. He’s a bit shaky at first, stuttering over simple phrases when the conversations were first starting. You put a hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb to bring him reassurance. From then on, he just let go.

He’s able to chat about everything she brings up. Even the obscure TV show that she loves to watch. You’re highly impressed with how good he’s doing.

He even apologizes smoothly when the sorority party is brought up. Your mom reaches across the table to hold his hand and tells him that she is proud of him for owning up to his mistakes and taking a stand.

She heads to your car first, giving you two some private time.

“You think that went ok?” Miguel asked, finally relaxing his shoulders.

“I think that it went swimmingly. I also think that I want to kiss you.”

Miguel turns to you, blush high on his cheeks and neck as you walk your fingers up his thigh. You give him a peck on the cheek and say you have to drive your mom back to her car.

Miguel walks you out and waves you all goodbye as you leave the parking lot.

“He is such a handsome young man! Charming, too,” your mom finally says.

“I know!” he was never going to shut up about that once you told him. “What else do you think about him?”

“I think he’s great for you. He’s very smart. Respectful. He’s clearly infatuated with you. He couldn’t stop looking at you.”

You avoid your mom’s gaze as she teases you.

“He was lovely, truly. He has my approval. Now, it’s your father he has to really impress,” she says with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, not even ready for that storm.

“As long as he doesn’t break your heart, he has nothing to worry about from me. Your father? One bad day and you might not see Miguel ever again.”

You just tapped your finger on the wheel and pursed your lips, mind lingering near the future.

GymRat!Miguel who talks to you about coming to his house after the semester is over. The midterms were soon but so was spring break. He had to let you know sooner rather than later that his family was going all out with trying to meet you.

“A dinner?” you say incredulously as you look up from your sandwich. “Like at a restaurant or at home?”

“Like a full blown dinner party at my bio dad’s house.”

“That’s,” you say taking a pause as the words settle. “A lot.”

Miguel felt like shit.

“I know. Look, I can tell them to cancel the whole thing. They can see you whenever,” Miguel says, sliding his foot next to yours under the table.

“No. If attending this is how I can make a good impression, then I’m more than willing to attend. I just need to prepare. Starting right now.”

Miguel smiled, “And I’ll be there with you for every step of the way.”

Miguel sat with you and helped you break down every relative that he knew was coming.

Gabriel

You knew him already

Easy to please

Annoying (according to Miguel)

Likes you a little too much (also according to Miguel)

Wants to steal you from him

“Miguel, I don’t think he’d do that. He has a girlfriend,” you say, still writing down notes.

“Baby, I know my brother. He might have a girlfriend but that doesn’t stop him from being Denis the Menace,” Miguel huffs out.

Tyler

His biological dad

A little aloof, but means well

Gifts money like it’s nothing

Might still be a little in love his mom

Will give you a bear hug, unaware of how large he is

“Kind of like you, babe,” you comment.

“But I’m doing way more than hugging you, babe.”

“And he’s in love with your mom?”

“It’s a long story.”

Nancy

Tyler’s wife

Definitely married Tyler for the money but eventually found love with him

Owns a Pomeranian named Lala

A bottle blonde turned housewife

Wanted to actually be on a housewife show until she secretly went to Bravo-con and saw how stuck up all of the housewives were

“I feel like that was pretty obvious, but alright.”

“She’s still not the brightest, but she’s nice.”

Kron

A dickhead

Miguel’s half brother

Tyler and Nancy’s only child after Nancy never wanted to go through the pain of childbirth again. And she didn’t want anymore changes to her body.

A year older than Miguel

A dickhead

“Should I have to stay clear of him?”

“No because if he tries something with you, I will handle him myself.”

George

The dad Miguel grew up with his entire life

Where Miguel gets his hopeless romantic tendencies from

Really likes soccer, wanted one of his sons to be a soccer player but got two nerds instead

Met his mom before she knew she was pregnant with him and charmed his way into her life. He didn’t know that Miguel wasn’t his until he was born and Tyler barged his way into the room when he was originally visiting someone else. He saw Conchata’s name on a baby sign and came in crying.

He still stayed with his mom because he loved her but he made Tyler sweat for ever leaving his mom like he once did: lost

“Your dad punched him?” you ask, stopping your writing.

“Yeah. My mom says it wasn’t pretty. Tyler learned a valuable lesson that day because Nancy came in and slapped him once she figured out what went down. He’s never denied Nancy or my mom a material thing since.”

Conchata

Hard on Miguel but dotes on him a lot now

The reason for a lot of Miguel’s self doubt

Wanted Miguel to be a doctor but has settled with science

Blasts music on Sunday mornings while she cleans, therefore waking the entire house

Will actually give you trouble (hence the conversation from two months ago)

“Did she give Dana any trouble?” you recall Gabriel’s girlfriend. “Is there anything that I need to not do specifically?”

Miguel tilts his eyes up, “Now that you mention it, I feel like she welcomed Dana with open arms. That might be more of a little brother privilege than anything else, though.”

You bit your lip, “That’s not good then. I don’t want her to think awful of me or our relationship.”

“She won’t. She just needs time to process.”

“That makes it sound like I’m stealing you from her.”

Oof.

Abuela

Already eager to meet you

Miguel’s world

Taught Miguel how to do certain meals and crafts as he was almost always at her house

Thinks you’re gorgeous

“She said that I’m gorgeous?” you ask, shocked.

“And talented,” Miguel hums. “And brave. Lots of compliments.”

“Oh!”

GymRat!Miguel who stays pent up all of spring break. He was supposed to be enjoying his days off but instead he’s replaying your whiny voice messages and watching videos of you in his clothes. He doesn’t know how much more he could take.

He looked down at his state. Tissues, lube, ragged sheets, your polaroids, his phone. You were driving him crazy.

GymRat!Miguel who almost sprints around campus when his last final is finished. He’s free! For a couple of months at least. To celebrate, he and Peter are having a small get-together in their dorm room with lots of pizza, wings, jello shots, cake, and games.

GymRat!Miguel who cries like a baby at Gabriel’s high school graduation. His baby, who he raised and cared for, practically birthed, is growing up!

George makes sure to get a wobbly video of Gabriel dancing across the stage and Miguel with snot dripping down his face as he hollers.

“What to do with these two?” George sighed as he wrapped his arm around Conchata.

GymRat!Miguel who tussles with Gabriel later that week after he finds out that he sent that video to you. Their dad has to come break up their play fight.

GymRat!Miguel who isn’t surprised that Tyler managed to pay for all of your transportation and stay ahead of the dreaded Stone-O’Hara dinner.

Miguel picks you up from the fancy hotel and thinks that his dad went overboard.

You're waiting in the lobby when he sees you, stunning as ever.

“Wow,” Miguel says, stunned to stillness as he takes you in, unbeknown of his presence. Your dress is flattering you in every way. His goes from your legs, to your heels, to the necklace he got you for Valentine’s Day adorning your chest.

“Baby, you look amazing,” he says, finally coming up to you.

You look up at him with those deer eyes again.

“You think so? It’s not too much, is it?”

“Not at all,” he says grabbing your purse and helping you to your feet. “So beautiful, cariño.”

You duck a bit, bashful from his gaze. Miguel leans your head back up, stealing a kiss from your lips.

“If we weren’t expected, I’d take you back up to the room,” Miguel whispers.

You ball your hands on his chest and look around nervously.

“I might have to take you up on that offer tonight,” you whisper back, heart rattling.

It was Miguel’s turn to feel shy. He walked close behind you as you both made your way to his car, mind racing of the things you both could get up to.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks your reaction is adorable when you see just how huge the Stone property is. You can’t believe that one man owns all of this land. Miguel tells you that this is, unfortunately, just the beginning.

GymRat!Miguel who almost knocks Gabriel down. He’s gawking at you like an idiot when he opens the door to Stone Manor.

“Woah,” Gabriel says, mouth gaping like a fish.

“Hello to you too, Gabriel. It’s nice to meet you in person,” you say with a cute curtsy.

Gabriel continues to flounder, mouth opening and closing like that cat meme.

“Will you at least let her in, you idiot?” Miguel barks.

“Sorry! So sorry,” Gabriel says and opens the door further. “That’s really embarrassing. You’re supposed to see my charm and fall madly in love with me.”

Miguel is about to seriously hurt him when Dana comes around the corner and does the job for him.

“Who’s falling in love with who?” she says, elbowing Gabriel in the stomach.

“Nobody and no one!” Gabriel keels over in pain.

“Thank you, Dana. You could probably hit him again for me,” Miguel says. “I want you to meet my girlfriend.”

“It’s a pleasure! The boys have told me a lot about you. I hope that you enjoy tonight’s dinner,” Dana says, reaching her hand out to you.

“Gabriel has said a lot about you as well. He didn’t say how cute you are though!”

Dana blushes instantly and holds her hand over her mouth as she giggles.

“Of course he couldn’t. He was too busy trying to win you over. I might have to beat them both to the punch though,” Dana replies.

Miguel and Gabriel just make the same irritated noise.

GymRat!Miguel who hold your hand as the four of you walk into the dining room. You’re gripping his hand tight as you take everything in.

It was so grand. Like a hotel. The ceiling fixture was huge and intricate. The color scheme was muted with pops of bright white.

It was…a lot.

“There she is! The lady of the hour,” you see a man even taller than Miguel say. He has brightly gray hair that’s styled intricately so. He’s grinning bright as he comes towards you with his arms wide.

He indeed goes for something like a bear hug, just like Miguel said. Except, Miguel is there to steady you when Tyler collides with you a bit too hard.

“I’m so sorry, I’m just so excited to meet you! I’ve heard so much through the grapevine and I remember your emails like they were yesterday! Please, Please! Have a seat.”

“Not before she greets everyone, Ty-Ty!” you hear a shrill voice from behind him. “Sorry about him. He’s like a golden retriever. My name is Mrs. Stone but you can call me Nancy!”

You shake her hand and exchange pleasantries. She snaps her hand behind her with a beckoning motion.

“This is our son, Kron!”

You look up to see a man with platinum blonde hair and a scowl aimed towards his mom that could rival Miguel’s.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, holding your hand out.

Kron eyes your body in a way that makes a horrible feeling go down your spine. His eyes plant themselves a bit too long on your chest before he decides to return the greeting.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, with a voice that assume was supposed to be smooth. Yuck.

Miguel quickly wraps his hands around your shoulders, “Let’s go meet my other parents.” He turns his mouth up at Kron as he moves you past him. If Tyler or Nancy weren’t there he’d buck at him.

“Mom, Dad, Abuela, this is my girlfriend,” Miguel says with a hand on the small of your back.

“Tan bonitia!” his Abuela cries and walks fast to take your hand into hers. “Eres tan bonita! Miguel! Where did you find such a doll?”

You giggle at her words, bashful at the attention.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. You are extremely beautiful yourself.”

“Oh, a sweet one too! Call me Abuela, yes? ¡Eres un ángel!” she says cradling your face to get a good look at you.

“Gracias, Abuela,” you say, a little softer. Miguel thinks he’s falling in love if he hasn’t already admitted it.

“Come, come! Meet my daughter and son-in-law!”

“This is George!”

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, looking into his eyes with a smile.

“A pleasure to meet you! My son has been in high spirits these past couple of months. And truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for what you did for him. He’s so stubborn, like his pa. He wouldn’t have budged!”

You chuckle at his comments about that O’Hara stubbornness, “It was no effort on my part, Mr. O’Hara. I wasn’t going to let something like that slide.”

You briefly turn to Miguel, trying to find a safety net under all this attention. You were happy to see that he was staring right back at you.

George then stepped to the side and brought Conchata forward, “Speaking of effort, I’d love for you to meet my wife.”

Here was the big one. The one you felt in your heart and soul was the woman of the night to please, the final boss.

“Mrs. O’Hara, what an honor it is to meet you. Miguel has told me countless stories about you. I’m happy to finally meet you face to face, and not just through words,” you say, holding your hand the highest it has been all night.

You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it was.

You panicked, thinking maybe you said something wrong. You’re about to pull your hand back until she finally reaches out and shakes your hand.

“Yes. You are the one that my son took forever to introduce me to. I’m happy that you made it here tonight. I do hope that you enjoy it,” she says. Her voice was calculating and a little cold.

You didn’t know how to take that so you just smiled and hoped that this was how she acted when she first met new people.

You heard the clinking of a fork against a glass.

“Gather around everyone,” Nancy said. “Dinner is about to be served!”

You all go to your seats. You smile at Miguel as he pulls your seat out and helps you sit at the table. He sits next to you and rubs your thigh, just as you did to him months ago.

Gabriel and Dana are sitting in front of you and Miguel. George and Conchata are to Dana's left as Tyler and Nancy are to your left. Kron has somehow placed himself near the head of the table near the parents, while Abuela is seated at the opposite end near the O'Hara brothers.

Nancy calls your name with glee, "I hope you came hungry because tonight we're doing a six-course meal."

You raise your eyebrows. You didn't know that this was the route they were going to take and from Miguel's face, he didn't know either.

There is an array of what you assume to be butlers and servers to come out, each holding a dish. There's even a chef who comes out with a smug look on his face.

"The theme for tonight is 'Everlasting Love.'"

You watch as Gabriel gives Dana a quick side eye and they communicate a silent conversation within just a few seconds. If you were to guess, it would be something along the lines of "is this serious?" and "as a heart attack."

"The first course is roasted artichoke hearts with a feta dressing drizzle. It represents the budding of a fresh relationship. I do hope you enjoy," he says walking away as the waiters lifted the cloches from the plates.

Below were the tiniest little artichoke hearts you've seen in your life.

As you were grabbing your utensils to begin eating, you could see Gabriel fighting for his life not to let out a laugh, shoulders twitching. Miguel just sighed as he put an entire heart in his mouth.

"So," you hear Tyler start up a conversation. "I hear that you are an art major. I would love to see some of your work. We do need a new painting for the entrance hall."

You wait until you swallow before you answer back, "I would love to create a piece for you! I'm sure you would want to see my work first, but whatever you want, I'm sure I can provide it."

"That's exciting! I'm so tired of seeing that boring white horse everyday. Right, Ty-Ty?" Nancy whines a bit as she leans close to Tyler.

"My wife is right. I'm sure your work will liven up the place!"

"I took that picture of the horse," Kron looked at his parents with a frown on his face.

"Oh, I wouldn't want you all to take that down. I'm sure it's very valuable," you say, trying your best not to upset anyone.

"Nonsense! We can always put the horse somewhere else," Tyler says, patting his son on the shoulder. "There's no need to frown son."

"You don't even know what her art looks like. It could be awful for all we know," Kron mumbles.

Rude.

Miguel's about to open his mouth but you quickly respond, "I would be happy to show it to you. If you don't mind, I can pull up my website right now."

So, you did. There are gasps, oos, ahs, and oh mys as your phone makes its way around the table. Kron's face cracks especially when he sees your work. He gets a little red in the face as he squeezes a compliment out.

By the time the next two courses come out, (an oddly pink soup based on the pool of memories that we store in our hearts and a market salad with cranberries and almonds to represent the start of young love) you've managed to impress the Stones, George, and Abuela plenty more times, shut Kron up four more times, and get an eerie stare from Conchata several times.

She hadn't really said a word since you shook her hand.

You all were enjoying a small palate cleanser of sparkling grapefruit juice to represent the sparks of love at first sight when she finally decides to speak up.

"Where did you get that dress?"

She had your full attention, "Oh! My mom lent it to me. She said it would be perfect for a special occasion."

"Your mom?" Conchata looked concerned. "She didn't think it was a bit inappropriate for dinner?"

You look down at your dress. Your cleavage was on display. You knew it was too much.

"I-I guess it is a bit too exposing," you say, conscience over every rise and fall of your chest she could probably see from her side of the table. You didn't bring a shawl with you either. You couldn't hide it.

"I mean, look at Dana. A long, non-revealing gown," she pans to Dana with a warm smile.

You did look to Dana who looked up, bug-eyed and confused. She looked back and forth across the table, a little incredulous.

"Ma, Dana's entire back is exposed," Gabriel said matter-of-factly as Dana turned her body a bit to show the criss-cross detailing of the string pulling the dress together.

"Sure, but, we can't see it here at this table."

"Conchata, dear, what is this about?" Nancy reaches her hand across the table, concerned.

"This isn't about anything! I'm just making conversation like everyone else here," she responds.

She's about to open her mouth again when her mom bites out a sharp "Conchata!" from the end of the table.

Luckily, the tension is broken by the chef bringing out the fourth course: a rare filet mignon to represent how our hearts bleed as they yearn for love.

How fitting.

You chewed your food in silence, controlling every movement that you could because now you felt that the entire table was ogling your chest.

It wasn't until the second palate cleanser, a red sorbet, came out that you saw that Kron's eyes never left you or your body. You felt sick.

You excused yourself and briskly walked to the bathroom.

You closed the door and took a deep breath. You looked over your appearance again. Was it really too much?

You washed your hands and took a few deep breaths. You were here to meet Miguel's family and make a good impression. Even, if his mom seemed to hate you, you were still gaining the hearts of everyone else. You're doing this for Miguel. Keep it together.

After a short pep talk, you straighten out your dress and your back, wanting to walk back into the room with your head held high.

What you don't expect is to be met with Kron as soon as you open the door.

"I'm sorry, did you need to use the restroom?" you ask, thinking that you were in there too long.

"No, but I was hoping to speak with you," he says, staring you down. "I apologize for my reaction earlier. Your art really is nice."

"Thank you," you say, trying to discreetly step from the door. He really did give you the ick. "I'm sorry that your parents are trying to take your art down. That was never my intention."

"No harm, no foul," he said. "What is confusing is how a pretty little thing like you ended up in Miguel's bed and not mine?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, a dirty look planted on your face.

"I'm not speaking another language, baby. You should dump him and get with the winning team. You'd make a great trophy wife."

"Look, Kron. Chronic. Megatron. Whatever," you say, trying to get away from him as he leaned closer. "I'd really appreciate it if you left me alone. I'm just trying to get back to dinner."

"The one person who you want to notice you is not impressed," he says with a snicker on his lips. "My parents seem to already enjoy you. You could drop this whole gig and be with me. Seriously."

GymRat!Miguel who storms over to where you went with a quickness. You were gone way too long and Kron was nowhere to be found.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Miguel asked with a bass in his voice.

"Great. Now the bear has been poked," Kron says to you. "We're not doing anything, Miguel. Calm down."

"You are doing something because why are you that close to my girlfriend?"

"Is she your girlfriend? Because I'm real close to getting a taste of that-"

Miguel grabs Kron up by his collar so quickly, you almost miss his movement, "You wanna finish that sentence?"

"Hey. Hey!" you whisper-shout, trying not to get the attention of everyone else. "Can we please just make it through this dinner? You two can do whatever you want afterwards. Please."

Miguel lets Kron go who sports a smirk across his face as he heads back towards the dining room.

"Thanks, dollface," he says, shooting you a wink.

Miguel only tightens his fist as he watches him walk away, "I should have hit him."

"Later, baby, please."

GymRat!Miguel who is significantly calmed down by the time you both make it back to the table. You let him breathe you in for a minute or two and it was like the bad energy was drained out of him.

The last two courses were a dessert and a specialty tea. The chef offered them both up at the same time, claiming that they complement each other like two parties in a couple.

You sipped your tea gingerly, happy to have made it to what you hope is the end of a long night.

The dessert in front of you looks delicious. It's in such a cute cherry shape, and it takes everything within you not to take your phone out to snap a picture.

You're about to dig in until you hear Conchata clear her throat.

"Are you sure you don't want to save that until tomorrow? I wouldn't want you to be bloated or anything," she asks hurriedly.

Oh.

So that's what this is about. All the remarks, the stares, the comments. They weren't about your character, your words, or even how you treat Miguel. It was all because of your appearance.

She thought you weren't good enough for her son because of your appearance.

You put the fork down, defeated. Conchata won the night.

Your throat burned as you bit back tears of shame and embarrassment.

"Mom, are you serious right now?" Miguel spoke up, voice cold as ever.

"Miguel don't talk to me like that! I'm your mother."

"A mom that's kinda being a bitch right now," Kron mutters under his breath.

You would agree, but it wasn't your place to make that comment.

Miguel lets that be known as he gets up and socks Kron right across the face.

The entire table is up in a flash, trying to get Miguel off of him.

Tyler is finally able to pull Miguel up after a few minutes. He's heaving, face the angriest you've ever seen it.

He yanks his body from Tyler's and opens his mouth, "This sorry excuse of a party to gang up on my girlfriend is over. I'm sick of it."

"Ma, you really said some horrible things tonight. I've tried for years to remain respectful towards you, but tonight you've really pushed it, and hurt someone that I love."

Love? Your eyes went wide and your heartbeat started to ring even louder in your ears.

"Kron, I've been sick of your bullshit for god know's how long. Biting off of me and my accomplishments is one thing, but cornering and harassing my girlfriend that I chose to bring around you is another. If you ever try that shit again, our poor dad isn't going to be able to get me off of you. You will never be me. Get over it."

"And finally, it seems that only a select few of you can stand up to the consuming fire that is Conchata O'Hara. I love my girlfriend for who she is first and foremost. She was the light that came into my life. You think I'm going to let something as minuscule as her body stop me from loving her? You should be ashamed, ma."

Miguel moves quickly as he shoves two plates in one of the butler's hands and tells him to pack it to go. He then turns to his grandma at the end of the table who didn’t even budge when Miguel snapped.

"Lo siento, Abuela," he whispers to her, truly upset that he let this get this far.

His grandma just gave him a long kiss on the cheek and whispered something in his ear.

"C'mon. We're leaving," Miguel holds your hand as he gets ready to guide you towards the entrance.

You bow to everyone, "I'm sorry about all of this." You're pulled by Miguel who wants to get out of the suffocating manor quick.

What a horrible first impression.

GymRat!Miguel who is silent on the car ride back to your hotel room. He's partially still calming down and partially listening for you to say anything. Your head hasn't turned from the window. He just places his hand in yours, hoping that he can get the message across that he was here for you.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn't see you crack until you're up in the hotel room, the lights are dimmed, and your heels are off. He's quick to wrap his arms around you as you sob. Your cries becoming louder and louder. His heart breaks at every shaky breath that you take.

"I know, I know. I got you, baby," he says, rocking with you, in hopes that you could just breathe.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you unzip your dress, offering to wash your body. You tell him no and that you need that little quiet time to yourself to think. He understands.

He still paces the room while you're in the shower, thinking about the things he should have done to prevent this.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the leftover dessert, still wanting you to enjoy something from tonight. You hum in between bites, sniffling a bit along the way. Even in this state, you were most precious to him.

GymRat!Miguel who kisses away your tears as you let out your insecurities. He reassures you that you're perfect. Body, mind, and soul.

"I love you," he says looking at you deeply. "Honestly, I feel like I've loved you since our group project. I loved you since our smoothie date. I've loved you since carrying your art supplies. I've loved you since listening to you rant about animatronic rats. Since you opened your dorm door pissed off at me. Since our coffee dates. Since our library dates. Since I first saw you with your matching outfits."

You still couldn't believe it.

"You love me?" you say, still trying to comprehend.

"Te amo, mi amor. Deeply and truly."

GymRat!Miguel who keeps you in his arms the entire night, kissing you to oblivion. You're both staring at each other. A faint moonlight peaking through the curtains.

"I love you too, Miguel," you say, words drifting into the night.

It's all Miguel needs to kiss you to sleep.

dividers by: @y-onb + @benkeibear 🩵

a/n: If you would like to become my designated Spanish checker or a buddy to help me learn/write my Spanish, please let me know 😭. (There was already someone but I forgot your @ !!!)

As always like, reblog, and COMMENT! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

(I am thinking of putting these on my AO3 because they are officially long enough to be fic chapters lol. The question is...how much should I change the format?🤔)

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