Plus Size Reader - Blog Posts

boobs too big

pro hero!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — swearing, bit of spice + implied smut, 4.7k words, for plus size readers and/or readers who have a larger chest size

a/n: room was inspired by this fanart; [f/c] = favourite colour

You had just finished work for the day. It was around 5pm and you knew that your boyfriend, Bakugou, would be finishing up his patrol about now. You packed up your things and left the office, saying goodbyes and thank you’s to your colleagues on the way out. It was a quick walk to the train station. The mauve and orange sky filling you with awe. The breeze and was cool and slight, ruffling your hair and blouse gently. You got off in two stops and walked to Dynamight’s agency.

Sometimes, he would pick you up from work. Sometimes, you would come to his agency after work. And some other times, you two would just meet at home, especially if it had been a long day or one of you had the day off.

Today, you wanted to surprise him since you two had a great (wink) time last night and he had left so quickly and early this morning on call. You were left craving your hero’s touch and affections and what a better way to let him know than by surprising him after work.

The receptionists recognised you when you walked in, greeting you and letting you know that Dynamight wasn’t back yet, but he should be shortly. You thanked them and headed to the elevator, taking it up the top floor where his office was. Let me rephrase that, his office was the top floor.

Once you hopped off the elevator, you could see his empty office through the glass walls. You push the glass door open and enter, taking in how messy it was since the last time you had been in here (which was last Wednesday). You placed your bag down, resting against the leg of his large wooden desk. The scorch marks across it making you smile.

You came around to his seat, seeing the picture he had on his desk of you two at the beach. The frame was decorated with pasta pieces, a craft project you had taken too in the last few months. It made you giggle. You remembered that day at the beach. It had been so hot and Katsuki had been complaining the whole time about his quirk going off. And about you getting sunburnt. He was committed to lathering you up every two hours, especially since you were in a bikini that he ripped off that night back at the rental place. It was when he had first admitted to you how much he loved you. Not with words of course. No, you knew by how he had taken such good care of you that aforementioned night and you had (of course) reciprocated his feelings.

You looked away from the picture, rolling up the sleeves of your [f/c] blouse before bending to put pens and pencils back in their holder, sticky notes in a pile, empty the sharpener, and so on. You continued to tidy his office, moving from the desk to the shelving and seating. He really was messy, you thought to yourself. At home, it wasn’t too bad since you were there, but alone, damn was he a—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the ding of the elevator. You turn around, mid paper-picking up, to see the love of your life stomping angrily (as per usual) out of the elevator. His gloved palms collide with the office door and he’s huffing inside. When he notices you he shouts, “[Y/N] WHAT THE FUCK?! What’re you doing ‘ere, you brat?!” You laugh, placing the papers in your hands on his desk and walking up to him. He meets you first, and your hands are on his chest, you head tilted up.

You look so sweet, so kissable in this moment, and Bakugou can’t resist you. His sweat-laden gloves grab at your waist and you tilt your head back even more. You lick your lips and the way he crashes his lips down onto yours has you weak in the knees. You grip harder onto his suit, hands soon moving to the back of his neck.

He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, you can feel it as your breaths and moans intermingle and become one. His tongue seeks yours, rolling over your bottom lip and teeth. You fall further into him, your knees weakening even more. And he catches you, smirking wider and intertwining his tongue with yours. You can taste the remnants of the steamed salmon and rice bento you made him for lunch.

You moan particularly loudly into him, only further further inflating his massive ego. By the time you two pull away, you’ve got saliva dripping down your chin. You’re both panting, foreheads resting against one another. He chuckles at how pathetic you are for him pretending he’s not the one wrapped around your finger.

He takes off one of his gloves, wiping the spit from your chin with long, sweaty fingers. You hum softly and pull away from him, smiling. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup if you keep doing that.” You give him a teasing disapproving look to which he smirks, “I’ll do a lot more than fuck up your makeup, love.” He’s got that lewd look in his eyes and you have to turn away, hoping he won’t catch sight of the blush stirring in your cheeks.

You return back to what you were doing before, picking up the documents that had fallen off his cluttered desk and onto the floor. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bakugou stalks over to his desk chair, pulling it roughly and plonking down in it. He’s got his feet up on the desk, taking his other glove and mask off.

He looks over at you and then around his office. His brows furrow, “Oi! Have you been cleaning up my office?” You look up at him and nod, smiling gently. He looks away, “Tch.” You watch as he crosses his muscular yet scarred arms across his chest, taking his feet down. “You mad at me, Suki?” You raise an eyebrow. He avoids your gaze as he gets up from the desk and walks around it, towards you. But, he doesn’t come to you.

Instead, he walks past you, not flicking a glance your way the entire time, over to the sofa at the far end of the office. You continue picking up the last pieces of paper that have fallen when drops a box at your feet. You’re startled by the noise and yelp, “Fuck, Katsuki!” You shift to look at him and he’s still scowling. He meets your gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes. “It’s the new merch…” He finally looks back at you. “For you.”

You’re immediately all giggles, tense shoulders relaxing. “Really? You got me new merch?!” You’re grinning from ear to ear, and you can see him get even more annoyed. That was one thing about him that had taken a while for you to learn. Even though he looks pissed off, he’s actually really happy that you’re excited.

“Thanks, Suki!” You step around the box and give him a hug. He grumbles but accepts it, patting the back of your head. You pull away from him and crouch down to the cardboard box, not paying attention to how he strides to his desk, plopping down in his chair to watch you.

You take the lid off and squeal. On top is an oversized black hoodie with a white skull on it. He knows how much you love his skull merch so this was really precious to you that he would bring out more.

Bakugou actually took part in his merch design. He didn’t come up with all of the designs, but he would meet with his team of designers to go over different ideas they had and finalise the next line of merch. This was unique in that most heroes outsourced their official merch design and manufacture while Bakugou preferred to be involved in his. He claimed that he didn’t want any of these ‘extras’ screwing up his designs, but you know that it was because he really wants for his fans to have nicely designed and good quality official merch.

It felt so soft and thick! This was definitely going to be your new fav hoodie. Your current one (which was another one of Dynamight’s merch) was falling apart at the seams after almost daily wear for the past five years. You set it on your lap and continued going through the box. This new range’s theme was skulls. You couldn’t stop smiling and giggling to yourself as you looked at each item, mesmerised. Bakugou watched you, nervous and happy-annoyed that you seemed to really like it. He had designed them with you in mind after all.

Beneath a pair of skull track shorts, you see what you think you’re seeing but not too sure if you’re actually seeing this so you end up pinching yourself. Dynamight underwear? There’s a reason why heroes don’t bring out official merch underwear and that’s because it takes a lot of work to figure out a flattering and attractive design that would make fans spend almost triple the price of regular underwear to buy. You’re in actual shock as pick up a skull patterned bralette by the straps.

The base colour is a pale orange with the opaque skulls printed on top. It blurs the line between Halloween and Dynamight merch, you think. But you also think that it gets extra points for versatility. The fabric is soft to the touch. Actually, it’s the softest material you’ve felt yet. The clasps at the back have also been flattened for comfort.

Bakugou stares at you intensely from his desk as you look at it. This is the moment he’s been the most nervous for. It was this piece that he wanted you to love out of the whole range as you’ve been complaining for a few weeks about how hard it is to find comfortable underwear that lasts a long time and actually looks good.

And he’s done it!

Just kidding. The bra looks like it was made for a pre-teen going through who just started going through puberty. You’re looking at it now wondering how the fuck that was supposed to hold anything in place.

Bakugou senses your dismay and pipes up, “You don’t like it?” You can hear the hurt in your voice. You quickly put the bralette back in the box and shake your head. “No! No, it’s not that, Suki-chan.” You’re waving your hands dismissively. “It’s just that…” Your hands fall from your chest to your knees and you look down, at the bralette. It’s so pretty and you know he must of worked so hard on it.

“Tch.” You look up, catching the end of his eye roll. “WHAT?!” He looks at you expectantly now, brows knitted together. You bite the side of your lip, anxiety jitters moving throughout your body in wavelike motions. But then you chuckle slightly, doing your best to shake it off. There’s nothing for you to be anxious about. “Suki,” you giggle, lifting the bralette up so he can see the front. You bring it next to your chest, straps hanging from your fingers. “What is this gonna hold?”

In an instant, his cheeks heat up and he’s grumbling to himself that it’s a fine size. You can see the blush extending from his cheeks to the tops of his ears and down the back of his neck. You smile and get up from your place next to the box, coming over to him and sitting on his lap (which he has no complaints about). You hold the bralette up to show him what you’re talking about, “It’s really pretty , Suki-chan. But it’s just so small. You know that… You know.” You’re giving him those pleading eyes. Those eyes of ‘please, don’t make me explain myself’. But, he just looks at you, blushing and scrunching up his brows.

You soothe the wrinkles with the pad of your thumb, but as soon as they’re gone, they come right back. He takes the bralette from your hands, holding it against your chest. And now, he’s beginning to understand what you were talking about. He huffs and places it down on your lap. It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak up, “I know you worked really hard on it, Suki. It’s okay. We’ll just—”

“Your boobs are too big.”

You’re staring at him, eyes wide, jaw ‘bout to drop. The fuck did he say to— “What?” He shrugs, “It’s not my fault your t—”

“Okay!” You hold up your hand, unable to tell whether he’s joking or not. “Thanks babe. Really.” You’re tone is dripping with sarcasm as you stare him down. But he’s unfazed by this sudden change in your mood. He shrugs again, barking out his laughter as he does so, “I wouldn’t want it any other way, you know?” He’s leaning over, in for the kiss. But you’re not in the mood.

You get off his lap but his hot hands grasp your wrist before you can really go anywhere. You back around to look at him and he’s got that sharp, lopsided smirk across his face. “I’ll make you a new one, eh?” You’re staring at him, brow raised, confused. But he doesn’t notice (he does but chooses to ignore it) and pulls you in for that kiss you tried to evade.

And it works, after a few moments the bralette sizing dilemma is forgotten. And so is the fact that the walls of Dynamight’s office are literally glass so anyone who happens to come up to the top floor of the agency can see into his office and consequently, the lewd undertakings that ensue.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

It’s been about week since Dynamight had given you a look at the new merch. After that afternoon in the office, the matter of the bralette sizing hadn’t come up since. You’re beginning to get a little suspicious since your boyfriend has been staying back after patrol ever since. He says it to review patrol reports, but if you knew better (and you do), you would say that it was to work on the bralette design.

It was around 12pm on Thursday when Bakugou called you. You had just gone to lunch break thankfully and picked up immediately. “Oi. Come by the agency after work. There’s something I wanna show you.” His voice was gruff and you thought you could hear the laughter of Red Riot in the background. “Mhmm, what do you want to show me?” You were trying to conceal your smile, but knowing Bakugou, he definitely could hear it from the other end of the line. “Tch. You’ll find out when you ‘ere, alright?” You giggle in response, telling him “Okay” and “I love you” before hanging up the line.

And now, you had just left the train station and were walking towards Dynamight’s agency. You couldn’t help the grin that was plastered across your face. You had been smiling ever since that phone call. So much so that your cheeks had begun to hurt.

It wasn’t long before you arrived, greeting the receptionists who directed you down the hall this time. You smiled and followed their lead, walking down the corridor and turning left down another hallway until you came to the design room. This is where all of the merch was designed and tested after manufacture. You knocked on the door, seeing through the little glass window cut-out on the door spiky ash blond hair. It opened after a few seconds and you were met with a woman who you assume to be one of Dynamight’s design assistants.

She had long, dark blue hair with equally blue eyes. She greeted you with a smile and motioned for you to enter. As you did so, Dynamight came up to you and snaked his arm around your waist. You giggled, embracing his tall, warm frame. He smelt like ash and smoke as per usual. He huffed into your shoulder before pulling away, smirking sharply down at you. You returned it with your own, much softer grin.

He had that excited look in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel excited by seeing it. “So,” you began, “Why did you ask me to come here?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly at your perceived dullness. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re gonna be my model for the new merch.” You blinked once. And then twice. Sorry what? Did you hear that right? Model? You?

You shook your head, now getting a better look at the room since Bakugou had stepped back. You could see boxes haphazardly stacked in one of the corners while a few sat opened on top of a long grey table. There were a few more assistants seated at the table, pulling the contents out and discussing the merch.

You looked back to the woman standing in front of you and then to your partner. “Um, what do you mean?” You asked tentatively. “Tch.” Bakugou put his hand on your lower back, still gloved and sooty, and led-pushed you over to the table. The blue-haired woman followed behind.

Once you got to the table, Bakugou pulled out the same bralette you had initially been critical of. Except this time, it looked like it actually might fit. He released his grasp on you and held it up to your chest, eyes glinting and lips pulling into another smirk in satisfaction. His red eyes flicked up to meet your own [e/c] ones and he thrust the bralette into your hands. He pointed to something behind you so you turned around, seeing that he was pointing to a little dressing cube in the corner. You put two and two together and turn back around, about to protest when Bakugou spoke over the top of you.

“Oi! Just try it on,” he rolled his eyes. Your mouth formed a hard line and you stared at him for a little before ultimately deciding that it was best to do as he says. I mean, he has put in all of this work to make this bralette fit you. And yea, it is a bit embarrassing to have to try it on when there are so many (not really but) of his employees around. But, he has the best intentions and you love him dearly for that.

You drop your bag against the leg of the table before walking over to the changing area. You pull the curtain shut behind you before removing your blouse and push-up bra to put on the orange bralette. Ah, you think, it feels so soft! You turn and look at yourself in the small mirror on the wall and wow, it really does look and fit so good. The bralette curves and sits perfectly over your breasts and on your under-bust. No spilling or gaping. You’re in awe of how Katsuki pulled this off. But then, you remember that you are dating THE pro hero Dynamight.

You pull the curtain aside and step out, your boyfriend’s sharp eyes on you from the moment you re-appeared. You walk over to him, trying to hide the smirk on your face seeing how his mouth had dropped open slightly and eyes were trained on your chest, blond brows completely relaxed. As soon as you’re within arms-length, Bakugou’s large gloved hands grab onto your forearm, pulling so that you fall into his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, eyes tracing the curves of your chest and then roving up your neck and to your jawline, lips, and [e/c] eyes.

You smile gently and giggle a little before he brings his hand to the top of your head and ruffles your silky locks. This causes you to giggle even more and look down, the intensity of his stare always making you falter.

At the sudden realisation that indeed, you two weren’t alone, you cleared your throat, archiving that cute smile he loved so much and bringing out the business look. You placed your much smaller hands on his chest and pushed him back slightly, earning you an irate noise from the back of Katsuki’s throat. You shook your head before tilting it to the side, “There are other people here, you know?”

He laughs from his chest, his warm breath hitting your face. “Oh, I know.” He’s got this wide shit-eating grin stretched across his face now. Great. You grumble playfully, “Suki-chan, we have to be professional.” He rolls his eyes at you, backing off now, “Tch.”

He takes the sight of you in again, very obviously checking you out. You begin to feel self-conscious with how much he’s staring at you. Automatically, your hands are on the move to cover your chest but you stop mid movement, seeing his eyebrows furrow, and force them back down by your sides. You are his model, after all. How can he improve his craft is you don’t allow him to evaluate his work? But this evaluation was teetering on the edge of shamless eye-fucking.

You clear your throat again, “Yea, I like it. You’ve done a really good job.” Your fingers start pointing to different parts of the bralette as you continue, “The band is really comfortable, the cups fit well, the straps are a good length. I really like it.” You give him a smile and tilt your head after you finish explaining. His hungry gaze lingers on you for a few moments more, tongue darting across his lower lip before he turns away from you.

Bakugou walks back over to the table, standing at the end of it, “You heard her. It’s fine.” You come up behind him and place your hand on his shoulder, standing a bit to the side. “It’s really nice, honestly. You’ve all done a really good job on it.” They nod, returning your grin with their own.

The blue-haired assistant asks if she can take some photos of you wearing the bralette for their quality assurance and fit records, and of course, you agree. Bakugou stands off to the side, pretending to be listening to one of the designers when in reality, all he can focus on is how attractive you look in his merch. 100% eye-fucking you.

It’s not long before you’ve stripped it off and have changed back into your work clothes. Bakugou still has some work to do at the agency before he leaves, so you give a him kiss on the cheek and thank the design team before catching the train home.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

Within the next week, Dynamight’s new skull merch line dropped and it was selling fast. The oversized hoodie and classic skull t-shirt had already sold out. Pro heroes such as Shoto and Deku were seen out in public in the orange and black skull bucket hats. This response from fans and heroes was unprecedented, and you had been buttering your boyfriend up all week about how incredible of a designer and businessman he was besides from being the greatest pro hero ever.

He has been pretty busy since, trying to manage his hero work, re-stocking of the merch, and the attention all of this has garnered from the media. In fact, he had just done an interview on the new merch yesterday. And today, your pookie was long gone by the time you had woken up — only at 8am since it was your day off — as he was on morning patrol from 5am to 1pm.

You sat up and stretched your arms overhead, yawning and smiling contently as you looked around your shared bedroom. Bright sunlight was streaming through the white curtains, illuminating the All Might poster on the far wall and shelf full of Katsuki’s All Might merch and trading card collections.

Groaning, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and shower. Afterwards, you made yourself a cup of tea and sat on the plush chair in the corner of your shared bedroom, pulling out your journal and writing down the dream you had last night. All was quiet, until your phone started buzzing like crazy. Every second a new notification sounded, sending your phone into a vibrating fit on the dresser. Annoyed and confused by this, you put your journal and pen on the table beside you and walked over to pick up your phone.

You had several missed phone calls by unknown numbers, as well as your friend and pro hero Mina. Bakugou had introduced you two shortly after you two started dating, and you and the pink girl had hit it off immediately. You unlocked your phone, seeing an alarming amount of unread messages. You opened the messenger app and scrolled, clicking on Mina’s chat. Not bothering to read her gazillion messages, you clicked on the phone icon up the top and waited for her to pick your call.

It was only on the second ring when her voice shouted into the microphone, “[Y/n]! [Y/n]-CHAN, ARE YOU THERE?!” You began saying ‘yes’ when she continued, “HAVE YOU SEEN IT?? Everyone’s talking about it!” You shake your head, brows now knit together and eyes narrowing, “Seen what?” Mina gasped, “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT?!” You had to pull the phone away from your ear. “No, Mina, I haven—”

“I’LL SEND IT TO YOU RIGHT NOW! THERE ARE TONS OF ARTICLES BUT THIS ONE IS THE ARTICLE!” Your brows only furrow further together. “Mina, what artic—” “OKAY, I sent it to you. NOW, GO READ IT!!” You chose to laugh, knowing that although Mina can be a bit over the top sometimes, she has your best interest at heart. You thank her and hang up the call, returning to the chat and clicking on the link she just texted you.

It takes you to an article titled ‘”Boobs too big.” Dynamight Challenges Standard Sizing of Hero Merch in Latest Release.’ Your jaw drops. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you read:

On a quiet Friday night, Dynamight reveals his true inspiration for making pro hero merch’s first ever plus size underwear range. Not even the previous Symbol of Peace ‘All Might’ attempted to tackle such a challenge. In fact, Dynamight is one of only a handful of pro heroes to ever release official underwear merchandise in history.

In his interview with Juko News, Dynamight explains how he wanted to create merchandise that was comfortable, flattering, and high quality for fans. He said, “I work with the team to design every piece… We [Dynamight’s design team] outsource construction and once that’s done, we test every size and make sure each item is good enough to sell.”

Now, this isn’t anything new. Ever since Dyanmight began selling official merchandise, he’s always had a hand in the creative process. But now, Dynamight admits that it was his long-term partner, [L/n] [Y/n] who is the reason why he’s expanded this new merch range to underwear and larger sizes. The pro hero said, “She’s always complainin’ about her bras not fitting right. It’s not her fault that her boobs are too big. Tch, why not design and make something she’ll actually like?”

Were you actually reading this? Did… did Bakugou actually say, on camera, that your boobs were “too big”. You were going to give it to him tonight.

Your eyes skim read the rest of the article. Struggles for larger-chested women in Japan; Dynamight is more than just a hero; call to action for other heroes to make larger sizes; excitement around re-stocking and future merch.

You put down your phone and walked back over to your chair, collapsing in it like you had just done crossfit or something. You couldn’t help but start giggling, which turned into full-blown teary, stomach-aching laughter. Bakugou was the love of your life, even if he was a bit rough and brash at times, he cares. And you know that when he said those things, he really did mean it with your best interest at heart. But he doesn’t need to know that you know that last part yet, yea?

50 Plus Size Y/N Prompts

When I was looking for an inspiration for a Nanami x chubby Y/N fic I realised that crushing majority of prompts and ideas are related exclusively to hurt/comfort or are drenched in extremely low self-esteem and lack of confidence. So, decided to put together my own list, covering a variety of situations from mundane and domestic to sensual and sexual. I based the ideas on my own experience as a fat person, so I'm aware they won't fit everyone, but I hope those can give you inspiration to explore in your creative work ❤ Of course, prompts are left to individual interpretation!

cw: some prompts are more gendered than the other, some are suggestive or addressing a strictly sexual situation

Leaving hickeys on thick thighs.

Wearing a bigger partner's clothes. Bonus: bigger partner is not the chubbier one—it's the chubbier partner. who gets to wear bigger clothes

Loving tummy kisses.

Lovingly or teasingly tracing fat rolls and love handles.

Nuzzling into soft chest or tummy for comfort.

Thick thighs save naps because they make the best lap pillow.

Fat person being picked up and/or carried around, no hassle, no protests of being too heavy, just sheer joy. Bonus: it's one of those crazy strong characters so they literally pick Y/N as if they were a doll.

Them being a personal heavy breast holder with built-in enthusiastic massage option.

Back massages because we all know that big chest weights way too much.

Ticklish kisses in the jaw area because they find the double chin cute.

Adoring to feel Y/N's weight in their lap.

Plus size lingerie. Them buying it for Y/N or Y/N showing off in it.

The way Y/N's chest/ass/thighs/tummy bounces during intimate times. It drives them crazy. Bonus: they're being ridden and enjoying every second of it.

Being in absolute awe of Y/N's figure.

Hugs from behind that do not necessarily end up with a full arm wrap but that's okay, one possibly can't envelop their whole universe.

Pulling Y/N closer so they can feel their big ass better.

Work out or a sport activity that's not related to weight loss or diet. Just enjoying active time together.

Finding it difficult to sleep without Y/N because they miss the body they can embrace and/or the warmth it gives.

Stimming or teasingly playing with Y/N's softer parts.

Foodie dates. Testing new places, taking tons of photos for their food instagram, feeding each other cute desserts, stealing the best pieces—or contrary, leaving them for their partner.

Y/N loves to eat and their love adores it because they have someone to enjoy their cooking.

Both them and Y/N love to cook and eat. A friendly rivalry over feeding the other better.

Tons of photos of Y/N and selfies with them. Every moment has to be caught on their camera. Bonus: they are a celebrity or social media persona & they love to show off with Y/N's photos.

Daily affirmations, soft words and touch related to body type, all those compliments and smooth lines.

Reminding Y/N to eat because no, the "fat supply" won't make up for a good meal, they have to eat regularly.

Gender affirmation when the fat body type sometimes can make it difficult for Y/N.

The shared celebration of gender euphoria when Y/N finally finds a way to nicely flatten and shape the chest. 

Choosing Y/N because they are fat. Them being into bigger people and actively choosing them over people with different body types.

Seeing Y/N naked for the first time and going absolutely crazy about it.

Tracing and kissing stretch marks.

Yoga pants effect. The curves just look so good in them.

Looking together for a good supporting bra.

Loving when Y/N is wearing a crop top.

Encouraging Y/N to wear more close-fit clothes Bonus: there is absolutely no perverted reason behind it;)

Supporting Y/N through weight gain or weight loss.

Enjoying a beach date. Every body is a good beach body if it has a cute beach wear on!

Scratching/washing Y/N's back because sometimes it's just hard to reach that stubborn spot.

Muscular body type partner x fat Y/N. Big partners solidarity!

Discussing together a new tattoo idea. Choosing the best placing for it. Bonus: it's a tattoo composed to fit nicely with fat rolls or stretch marks.

Helping Y/N shave the back of their legs or any other hard to reach part of their body.

Insisting on keeping Y/N's thighs close to their head during oral sex.

Treating rash/burn caused by friction between thighs, bra or other piece of clothing.

Shibari or harness on a plus size body.

Picking up the self ironic negative talk and turning it into something positive

Being proud of Y/N, showing them off whenever there's an opportunity.

Y/N posing them for a photo, painting or a sculpture. Bonus: Y/N is their muse.

Warming hands between Y/N's thighs. Bonus: maybe their cheeks or ears feel cold too ;)

Them wearing Y/N's shirt for comfort. Bonus: it's not a typical over-sized comfort piece of clothing but a perfect fit. They still insist on wearing it.

Hand and bite marks on ass and hips. Bonus: loving aftercare.

Doodling/painting on Y/N's body: thighs, arms, ass… Bonus: it's a part of a spicy play.

Please, reblog and/or credit, when you use (but don't @ me!). The divider made by @/saradika.

I read all 3 parts and it’s delicious (^‿^✿)

I love your writing, it's so fucking good. you write abt plusize ppl so well I'm jealous- ANYWAYS

can you please write chubby puppygirl who's desperate for simons approval? she already knows price likes her. she's got the man tamed as if he was the pup. but simon??? he's so nonchalant about her that she can't help but go insane trying to get praise from him. whining and yappin at his feet, giving him big puppy eyes, doing whatever he tells her to???

(if you wanna get real nasty, you could write him taking advantage of her. pushing past her limits/making her do embarrassing things)

also congrats again on 500!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

WAAAA THANK YOU!!!! my biggest inspo for plus size puppygirl reader fr ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ohhhh this is soooo delicioussss bc its so true 0-0

priceghost/plus size puppygirl reader, emphasis on ghost/reader. mdni, simon is a meanie, a little angsty but i'm a cheesy sucker for happy endings and cuddles. there's sex in there, i swear, you just have to be patient WEHGFVWKFHB wordcount: 2.8k 💀

price dotes on you like you're royalty, pouring all his money, time, and affection into you. he loves to pull you onto his lap and let you shower him with kisses. he'll have you rest your head on his thigh while he works so he can pet your hair. he buys you a pretty collar with your name on the front and his name and number on the back, as if you'd ever wander far away enough to get lost—but one name is noticeably absent.

simon is completely nonplussed by you. your pretty whines are met with scoffs, your head nuzzling against his knee earns you a pinch on your poor, sensitive puppy ears. the only time simon really pays you any attention is when price brings the two of you together, too tired to do anything but stroke his own cock and watch ghost ram into you, calling out harsh commands when his boy gets a little too rough with you. even then, when he's bullying you with his cock, tugging your tail to make you whine in pain or smacking any inch of skin he can see to watch it ripple and bounce, you're on you absolute best behavior for him.

you crave his praise more than all the pets and treats in the world, likely because it's been withheld from you for so long. puppies have a constant desire for things they can't have like, and the same is true for puppy hybrids. while real dogs beg for chocolate when it's being eaten, all you can think about around ghost is earning his approval.

ghost, of course, barely notices at first. once he's brought you to price, he considers his mission complete--all he planned to do was bring his captain a special present, and maybe fuck it from time to time. it wasn't until he observed your behavior with the other members of the 141 that he recognized your behavior. you were friendly and playful with gaz and soap, but you never fought for their attention., and with price you never had to fight for anything. no, it was only with him that you begged and pleaded for attention. only then did he become interested.

he starts small with little grunts of approval when you followed an instruction particularly well. he sees how your eyes shone when he didn't push you away as you nuzzled up to his calf, amused that just the barest touch was enough to make you dizzy. what a fun little game it could be, he thought, to see how far you would go to gain his love.

the game began when price flew out for a week for a training seminar, giving lectures to recruits and overseeing their exercises. obviously he couldn't bring you, he'd cooed as he'd wiped the tears from your round face. he would need to focus all his time on the recruits, and he simply couldn't do that with his soft, precious girl around; but don't worry, simon would take good care of you. this is where simon finds his opportunity, with no captain holding his proverbial leash. he insists you stay in his quarters for the time being--there's no use letting you lay in price's bed for the whole week, snuffling at his pillows and crying until he returns. what kind of owner would simon be if he let you do that?

instead, you stay in ghost's quarters, and this is where his fun begins. needy puppies don't sleep on human beds, he condescends on the first night. your look of confusion is met with amusement as ghost produces a big, fluffy dog bed for you to sleep on. you don't want to be ungrateful, do you? and of course you don't! so you curl up in the dog bed, the roundness of your belly and thighs making it difficult to properly tuck you body in to fit, but the words good girl that follow make you beam with delight. you're a little squirmy the next morning when he makes you eat your breakfast on the floor, but all discomfort disappears when ghost strokes your ears while he eats.

when price puts you on your knees, he puts a fluffy pillow under you to stop the pain. simon purposfully chooses a hard surface and spreads his legs wide, slapping his thighs to invite you to worm between them and mouth at his cock. he gets mean about it, forcing it too far too fast and making you gag and tear up, but you keep going like a champ the whole time, desperate to hear his praises.

its only that evening when ghost begins to feel guilty. the way you stumbled and crawled after he forced you to stay on the ground all day made the pain you were in very obvious. his cold heart cracks just a little when he hears you muffle sobs of pain and loneliness into your pillow on the dog bed. it’s worse the next morning when you're sluggish and achey, eyes puffy from tears and lack of sleep. still, you settled on the ground like a good girl, anticipating his command and biting back the little sounds of distress caused by your throbbing muscles. fuck, he did't want to do this anymore.

"up," he commands shortly. you tilt your head, confused, and ghost grunts. "i said up."

you stand slowly, half from your protesting joints and half out of concern that this is some kind of trap. simon sighs, rubbing his hand over his face and feeling the fabric of his balaclava catch on the callouses.

"go on, back to bed. my bed," he clarifies when your lip begins to quiver. he brings in a bowl of cereal for you, exasperated to find you perched gingerly on the very edge of the bed, ready to slide onto the floor at a moments notice. "stay up there, lovie, get comfortable. there you go."

he hands you the bowl and watches your tentative movements as you wriggle your fat thighs around to sit more securely on the bed. your sleep shirt clings to your round belly, making it even more apparent as you begin to eat your cereal. god damn, you really were the prettiest little thing. with your thick thighs and arms, ghost thought you would be a sturdy girl, able to take his cruelty, but looking into your sweet face he knows he had been wrong. you poor little thing, so obedient and fragile. he resolved to be at least a little gentler with you, his new favorite toy. he really ought to make it up to you, coax you back in to him, but ghost doesn't do apologies.

he's always thought actions speak louder than words.

his hand is slow when it creeps to your hair as you eat, his eyes drawn to the way your ears twitch when he scratches at the base of them with dirty fingernails. you drink the milk from the bowl, sweetened by the tooth-rotteningly sugar cereal price indulges you with, and ghost wipes the milk mustache from your upper lip with the rough pad of his thumb. your pink tongue pokes out to lick it obediently off of his fingers, just like you would do with price. god, he wanted to make you cry, those big eyes would look so pretty glassy with tears, but he'd already hurt you enough in the past day.

simon considers your face for a moment. he doesn't really do kisses either, unless price makes him, and even then his favorite place to kiss is the sole of the captain's boot. instead, simon scratches your ears absentmindedly until you nuzzle into his palm. you seem content to lie in his bed all day with his hand in your hair, but frankly, he finds that a boring solution to his self-made problem. instead, he trails his hand down your face and thick neck to where your collarbones are barely bumps under soft fat and skin. he draws circles there for a moment, watching your reactions to his touch with feigned disinterest. he'd never bothered to learn you before, leaving that up to price, but now... well, getting to know his favorite chew toy a little better couldn't hurt.

his hand moves down, cupping one of your tits in his hand. even his big palm didnt cover the whole thing, so big and soft, and that interested him more than the thought of your pretty tears.

"take this off, yeah?" he phrases it as a question, but the way you jump to do as he says makes it seem like gospel. you're even prettier underneath, rolls on your sides and your tummy hanging over the waistband of your sleep shorts, littered with stretch marks that remind simon of his own. your nipples are already pebbling, fuck you're so pretty. he pinches at them more gently than he usually would, trying to mimic what he's seen price do to you. the satisfying little whine you let out tells him he'd probably doing something right, eyes flitting back up to yours. oh, sensitive thing, you're already eager for more, he can see it in your eyes.

he's seen price lavish your tits with his mouth and he's seen how you squirm and preen from it, so he rolls up his mask over his nose and dips down to seal his lips around your swollen nipple. he rubs his tongue against it and when that doesn't elicit the response he wants, he sucks on it with a little more force than necessary. now you let out that lovely little noise, and he feels his cock twitch to life. his mouth waters at the taste of you, sucking and licking your nipple with an almost clinical focus, trying to figure out what you like. his fingers tweak your other nipple and, there, there it is again, that precious little moan. he salivates over the taste of you, his spit dripping down when he bites at your skin, enjoying how you squirm.

"simon, simon" your breathy voice breaks through his focus and his eyes turn up to meet yours. he huffs when all you do is stare at him and squirm, and he pinches your nipple meanly.

"you want something, lovie?" he snips, "you ask."

"please, touch me?" he rolls his eyes. you're so vocal with price. are you really so scared of him?

"words, pet, or i'll leave you like this," he warns. "be specific."

"please, please touch my pussy," you whimper. what a lovely sound. "or let me touch you?"

ghost considers having you suck him off. he's seen you wrap your lips around price's cock and hump his leg until you cum, rutting against his boots like the desperate little pup you are, and he has to admit it’s tempting. he's already hard in his boxers, fuck is he hard, but he reminds himself this is supposed to be for you. instead of responding, he pushes his hand on your plush belly and forces you down on your back, shuffling his way down the bed. he yanks your panties and shorts down and off your legs with little ceremony, forcing your thick thighs wide enough for him to get a look at your pussy. he spreads the folds apart, watching how you glisten.

"please, simon," you whine, rolling your hips forward to try and get his thick fingers inside of you.

"isn't this what you wanted?" he tuts, but relents. he's forced his fingers into you many times, but after a moment more he realizes that he's never put his mouth on you, never licked into your cunt or sucked on your clit. has he ever eaten cunt? not to his memory. shit, maybe he should stick to what he knows--but you look so sweet weeping for him. there's a first time for everything.

he leans down, unsure of where to begin, and licks a long stripe up your cunt. your hips buck into his face and he does it again. you taste good, he decides. he wants more.

ghost buries his tongue in your pussy and you make a delicious noise. he licks in and out, getting more of that tangy sweetness in his mouth and dripping down his chin and fuck he loves it, no wonder price spends so long with your thighs pressed tight around his head. you clench around his tongue and he groans. soft and wet and sweet, he could stay here forever. only the dissatisfied whines from your lips tear him away for a moment realizing he's been neglecting your poor, throbbing clit. how mean of him. he scrapes his teeth across it just to hear you cry out before pulling it into his mouth, forcing his tongue under the hood to rub the nerves hard enough to make you weak. he grinds his own hips into the bed, his cock so hard in his pants that he considers pulling away entirely to shove it inside you--but all thoughts of forcing his cock in your pussy fly away when he feels you gush out more of that sweetness he wants.

simon sinks back down, slurping pornographically against the folds of your cunt. the fabric of the balaclava, still rucked up over his nose, grinds against your clit.

"simon, simon, si," you babble his name and he finds that he enjoys sound of that too.

"i know, lovie, i know," he grunts, muffled into your cunt. he could go on like this for a while for his own pleasure, and maybe one time he will, but right now this is for you, so he pulls his tongue reluctantly out of your cunt and goes back to licking your throbbing clit, hard and swollen under his touch. his thick fingers find their way to your weeping entrance, working in slow enough to make your head fall back in a noise of anguish. he pumps them in and out faster, luxuriating in the wet sound. in and out, in and out, and soon you're chanting for him. his name, his callsign, babbled sounds that barely sound like words at all, and he devours each noise with the same enthusiasm that he eats you out with. your thighs tighten around his head, squishing tight over his ears and he begrudges the slight loss of those precious noises. oh well, he'll just have to make you scream.

his fingers move faster, so long and thick that he manages to find that spot inside you that makes you sob above him, panting and squirming like you're unsure if you want to get away or drive yourself closer. ghost doesn't care--if you tried to pull back right now he'd just drag you back. you're close, he can tell, so close he imagines he can taste the change on his tongue. he wants to pull back and encourage you to come with his words, but he just can't seem to pull away from your clit, sucking and sucking and sucking and--

you do scream for him, loud and trembling and gushing over his fingers oh-so-sweetly, and simon feels his boxers fill with warmth. christ, he came in his fucking boxers from eating your pretty cunt, he'd have to make this a habit--maybe with price fucking into him from behind, wouldn't that be something? he sits up, panting and licking the wetness off of his mouth, finally seeing the limpness of your body and that deliciously fucked-out look on your face. he pats your thigh.

"need a nap, hm?" he suggests, though you seem like you're not quite back to coherence yet. what would price do right now, he considers. food and water and a warm washcloth come to his mind, though price usually has those prepped and on hand. still, he's pretty sure he could scrounge up a water bottle and some fruit for you. he slides off of the bed, surprised to hear a distressed whimper when he does.

you're holding out your weak arms to him, lip trembling. he stares at you, confused. the fuck are you asking for? cuddles?

oh. right.

ghost considers for a moment. cuddles are on the list of things he doesn't do, right up there with kisses and apologies, but you look vulnerable and warm and so, so soft. naked in his bed, eyes wide, begging to be held, he can't deny you, can he?

he sighs and slides back in with you, grunting when you press your face to his chest in delight.

"gonna be fuckin' gross when you wake up," he grumbles, thinking about the stickiness between your thighs and in his boxers, but wraps his arms around you nonetheless. your ears twitch and under the blankets he can hear your tail thump, eyes closing right away. you're just as soft and warm as you looked.

he's fucked.

Delicious \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

H A U N T E D ! ♱✮♱

in which your ex seems to be popping up in the most odd places. your dreams, the coffee shop you frequent in the mornings, your bedroom while you sleep.

summary! you broke up with simon due to his possessive and toxic nature. despite him not taking it well, a year later you believe you’re getting over it, beginning to move on to better things. that is, until, he seems to be popping up everywhere you go. he’s at your every turn, every corner, and you’re sure there’s little you can do to escape him while still having the willpower to deny the way your body calls out to him.

pairing! simon ‘ghost’ riley x chubby fem reader

warnings! 18+ smut, minors DNI. p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), creampie, degrading (use of slut, whore, and more), praise (use of angel, my love, baby), heavy dumbification, heavy stalking, toxic relationship, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, impact play, marking/hickey giving, absolutely filthy smut, squirting, humiliation, dubcon, heavy dacryphilia, slight bondage, heavy body worship, simon is actually unhealthily obsessed with you, no use of y/n, masturbation, mutual masturbation, manipulation, thigh riding, slight daddy kink, breeding

author’s note! sorry i haven’t posted in so long, i was scrapping for ideas and then i listened to haunted by beyoncé and came up with this. this fic is going to be my most unhinged and filthiest yet so i hope you guys enjoy!! <3 the end is kinda rushed because i want to get this out and give you guys an update but in time, i will edit it and make it better! it’s also not proofread :,)

word count! one day i’ll count, i promise :,)

you awake with a shudder, your body jolting up and immediately reacting to the same dream you’ve been having for the past year. goosebumps covered your body, but not because of the steady flow of cold air coming from your air conditioning, no.

you’d been having the same fucking sex dream of your ex since the day you left him.

you just couldn’t understand it. the dude was a prick, constantly groveling and pining for your attention, whether it be through trying to keep you away from your friends or starting arguments with you whenever you planned to go out just to keep you home. he would’ve done anything for you to be solely focused on him. he didn’t care if you were yelling at him, if you were screaming, if you occasionally slapped him whenever he got out of line, as long as you were talking to him, he was perfectly content, which was the problem. most couples saw arguments as things they didn’t want to have. they didn’t enjoy fighting, they didn’t enjoy the screaming, the crying, the yelling. but he reveled in it.

your every yell seemed to ignite a sick type of flame in him, the volume of your voice only growing louder when he’d smirk and poke and prod at you to coax a more unhinged and volatile reaction out of you. and god, you never missed the way his dick would create a tent in his pants when the frustration became too much and you began to cry. the way he bit his lip as you sobbed, the way he’d palm himself over his pants when he thought your vision was too blurred with tears to see him, how he’d say whatever mean shit was on his mind to keep you crying.

and yet, every night when you settled into bed (sometimes a bed that didn’t even belong to you), you’d have the same dream. it didn’t matter if you were alone, if you were asleep beside someone, if you’d fallen asleep at the library, your desk, or even your car, it was the same reoccurring dream.

when you first began having the dreams, you chalked it up to you just missing him. the breakup was still fresh and the sex was phenomenal, how could you not? you thought that as you moved on in your life and forgot about him, they’d just stop. but no. he plagued your mind like a goddamn disease. every time you shut your eyes, he was there, his face buried into your neck whispering nothing but dirty things into your ears as he drilled into your cunt, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your whoreish moans echoing off every single wall of your once shared apartment.

you couldn’t forget about him even if you wanted to and it was beginning to drive you insane.

what left you on the brink between sanity and insanity, however, was when you saw him in public again for the first time. you were out getting your daily salted caramel latte, the way you had every morning for the past four years. it was early fall and you were six months post breakup, your body protected from the cool wind by a knitted white cardigan he’d bought you a few weeks before your inevitable end, and black leggings. as usual, you sat at a table, your eyes focused on your phone and occasionally flickering up when the bell at the door would chime. you smiled at the normal customers you’d grown to occasionally create small talk with but when your eyes raised and you saw him, your blood ran cold and you found yourself fumbling to the nearest bathroom to avoid him even catching a glimpse of you.

you thought it was a one off incident, brushing it off after a short-lived freak out and moving on with your life.

then you went to a club for your friend’s birthday. you were all clad in the skimpiest dresses you could find, intending to bring a guy back with you at the end of the night for drunk and meaningless sex. the purple lights of the club mixed with the one too many gin and tonic’s left your vision slightly blurry, but as you let some random man come up behind you and grab your hips, you allowed you head to fall over his shoulder and you went stiff when you noticed him sitting at the bar, beer in hand as he watched you intently. it wasn’t like he pulled his eyes away or left, no, he stared into your damn soul as this guy rutted into you from behind, making his intentions clear. what made it worse was that the fucker had the audacity to raise his hand and teasingly wave at you, mouthing the words “always told you that red was your color” after his eyes scanned your dress from head to toe.

but whatever. just another coincidence, right?

wrong!

the third time you noticed him, you were getting a little hot and heavy with some random date in an alley. his hands were grabbing at your hips, his mouth peppering hot open mouthed kisses to your neck as you moaned into the cool night air. it didn’t take long for him to slide his fingers up the slutty skirt you’d worn just for that reason and enter your cunt. sure, it was good, but there was something.. missing. sex had began feeling that way after your breakup. you could moan as loud as you wanted, you could squirm in someone else’s hold as much as you wanted, but something was always missing.

when you felt what you knew was going to be a short lived and unfulfilling climax coming on, you saw him. the brit had his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall as he watched you with a smug smile. when your breath hitched, your date saw that as you enjoying yourself, so he continued, unaware of the man standing just a few feet away from the both of you. and it was wrong, it was so wrong, but what brought you closer to the edge was the way he watched your every movement. the way your every gasp seemed to make his smile grow caused an unexplainable pool of heat to grow in your lower stomach and you hated yourself for it.

“you close, love?” he mouthed, nodding his head to your date who was biting and sucking at your neck. when you nodded, he silently chuckled to himself, lowering his head for a moment before raising it, shrugging as he spoke. “go on then. cum for him, love.”

and you did, but not because of your date. because your ex was sat watching you cum for another man, his expression nothing short of snobby as your mouth went agape and you let out a squeal, unable to squeeze your eyes shut the way you normally did when you came because you wanted to see him, wanted to watch him as you came.

it was as if he’d ruined you for another man. he knew everything about you. you every nervous habit, your every like and dislike, how you liked to be touched. no other man knew how to touch you the way he did and it drove you insane.

you never saw him again, but he was always there. in your head, in your heart, and in your dreams.

oh, but if only you knew.

you were always just the silliest girl there was to him. to think that he’d just left you alone after he watched you cum on another man’s fingers, to think that he hadn’t been watching you long before the first time, to think he hadn’t continued watching you after the last time. you thought you’d finally gotten a grip, going out and living your life ever so fucking happily without him, and yet he still had all the control. you think he didn’t allow you to see him those three times? you think he would’ve have made himself known if he didn’t want to?

his poor sweet and naïve silly girl.

he was always there, you just couldn’t see him. he wouldn’t allow you to. not after the way you’d broken up with him when all he was trying to do was keep you to himself. was that so wrong? to not want to let something so perfect go into the big, bad world? the day you moved into your new apartment, he was sat in the lobby, newspaper just high enough to cover the lower half of his face as he watched you lug your suitcase inside. every time you walked to the nearest gas station at three a.m because you were hungry, he was sat in the shadows, his eyes following the sway of your hips and his feet following your every step. every time you went to get your morning coffee, he was sat in the furthest booth from your normal table, laptop open while his eyes watched the way you’d sometimes talk to different daily customers.

and oh, that flimsy little lock on your apartment door was too easy to get past. after you’d shut your curtains, signaling that you intended on going to sleep, he’d slip his way into your home, his footsteps light as he crept into your room, standing over you as you slept. if he got lucky, he sometimes managed to slip his hand into your panty drawer, cock in hand as he watched you sleep, sometimes in just one of his old shirts and a pair of shorts. he knew he was sick, knew that he shouldn’t be stalking you, but he couldn’t help it. you were just so pretty, so perfect, and so fucking stupid. if you weren’t going to properly protect yourself, he would just have to watch your every move and ensure that someone was still watching over you.

for the year you’ve been broken up, for 365 days, he has been with you at every point. even if you didn’t know it. he’d watched you slip one too many men in your sheets, watched you drunkenly turn the stuffed animal he’d gotten you around whenever you had company, watched you sink your fingers into your pussy whenever you needed release.

and he was just about ready to make himself known, but not yet. he wanted to watch you just a bit more, hence why he was currently sat in his car while you got into yours, eyes trained on the flimsy and thin tank top you were wearing that allowed the sun kiss your skin. it was late spring and he knew you weren’t one for modesty, hence why he’d driven closely behind you, sometimes taking a few turns to avoid detection before ending up a few cars behind yours.

while you sat in your car and grabbed the exact amount you’d need in cash, per usual, he stepped inside and perched himself in his usual spot, eyes trained on you and your tits as you smiled at the cashier and ordered your usual before sitting at your usual table. maybe if you weren’t such a sucker for routine, this wouldn’t be so easy for him.

when your friend, kelly, entered and sat across from you, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. he didn’t like kelly. kelly talked too much, kelly was annoying, kelly always filled your pretty little head with such stupid ideas, like how he was toxic and how it was good that you left him. kelly encouraged you to go out, kelly thought it was good for you to wear such slutty and skimpy outfits out, kelly wasn’t protecting you.

“hey.” she smiled as you put your phone away and tucked it into your purse. “new club opened up a few blocks from here, wanna check it out with me?”

when you sigh, he’s hopeful that you’ve finally learned. that you’re days of being naïve and prey to the world were over.

“i’m not sure. i’ve been.. weird lately.” your voice is low, as if you’re trying to shrink away from whatever is on your mind. when kelly quirks an eyebrow, it implores you to continue speaking. “don’t say i’m crazy or anything, but i’ve been having these dreams—“

“so?” kelly snorts. “are they nightmares?”

kelly talks too much.

“no, kelly. they’re sex dreams about..” trailing off, you’ve definitely got his attention now. his eyes are trained on you as you sigh once more and lower your head, your expression one of what looks to be embarrassment. “about simon.”

aww. you’re thinkin’ ‘bout him.

how sweet.

he could feel himself smile as he watched you, the words music to his ears.

kelly groans. “not that guy. not again. do you not remember how terrible he treated you?”

kelly fills your pretty little head with stupid ideas.

“i know, i know, but still. i started having them after we broke up, but they just.. didn’t stop.” shrugging gently, you avoid eye contact with kelly, clearly not wanting to hear what she’s been saying for almost a year.

“you are too beautiful to be tied down to such an ugly person.”

he snickered to himself. ugly? sure, kelly. sure.

“you wanna forget about him? then come out with me! we’ll find you a sexy little dress, you can take someone home with you, and you’ll forget all about him!”

kelly encouraged you to go out, kelly thought it was good for you to wear such slutty and skimpy outfits out, kelly wasn’t protecting you.

“okay. i’m in.” smiling, you grab kelly’s hand as she squeals while he sighs. he’d truly thought that you’d learned. thought you’d realized something as beautiful and precious as you needed to be hidden away. thought you’d finally stopped needing him. but as usual, you proved him wrong. you still needed him. you always would, apparently.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“kelly?” you groan, arms wrapped around your body to protect your skin from the slightly cold air. You’d went out with the girl and everything was fine and all fun until she disappeared and didn’t come back, which you wouldn’t have cared about if she was your fucking ride. of course, you had a few to drink. not enough to completely render you incomprehensible and not in your own control, but enough that you wouldn’t dare to sit behind the wheel. and it didn’t help that she had your phone as well.

so now you’re left outside the club with no concept of time, no phone, no friend, and no ride.

fucking fantastic.

“god, why am i even friends with her?” you shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around the fact that she’d just leave you here.

“pretty sure I asked you that at least 56 times when we were dating.”

when you look up to see simon, your body goes rigid and your mind is racing. how did he know you were here? why was he here? why is being so causal as if you two hadn’t talked in over a year?

“aht. It was actually 653.” he hums with the cockiest, shit-eating grin. “654 if you count you just asking.”

“go away, simon.” is the only words you’ll let fall off of your tongue. of course, your mind is filled with the usual confusion at the feel of seeing him again, but what was currently on your mind were those stupid dreams and your last few encounters. You wanted to scream at him, to ask him what he’d done that would curse you to always remember him, to ask why even after being broken up, he was stuck in your mind, but that wouldn’t do anything besides cause an argument, and you knew exactly how that would go.

“been away for almost a year, my angel. haven’t you missed me?” he takes a step forward and tilts your chin up, the frown on his face is.. genuine. like he’s actually upset that you don’t want him around, but of course you wouldn’t! he was possessive, toxic, jealous, almost borderline narcissistic, hot, caring, annoying loving and—

“no. no i haven’t.” you push his hand away from you, crossing your arms as he shakes his head. “cut me some slack, yeah, baby? i miss you.”

“well i don’t fucking miss you! i don’t miss the way you’d argue with me to keep me in the house, i don’t miss the way you’d try to tell me what to wear! i don’t miss the way you’d get mad at me if any guy even looked at me! i don’t miss the way you’d get hard and touch your fucking dick when i cried because i was so, so done with you!” you tried your best, but you ended up yelling. his audacity made you throw your want to not argue out of the window. now it was all you wanted to do. you wanted to scream at him, to make him feel like nothing but shit for what he’d done to you.

“but you don’t miss the sex? the way id fuck you into nothing but oblivion? until you couldn’t remember your own name? you don’t miss the way i’d hold you after and tell you how beautiful you were? the kisses on your head as i cleaned you up? the way id carefully re-dress you?” he hums, attempting to remind you of the very little good he did.

“none of that was worth it. it wasn’t worth the bullshit i put up with.” you grumble back to him. instead of arguing further, you find your feet stomping away from him. you had no idea where you where going, but as long as it was away from him, you couldn’t have cared any less. your feet carried you through that same alley where your date and once fingered you, sending a shiver down your spine and making you pause to look behind you. when you see he’s not there, you settle on walking home, content with the fact that he didn’t know where your apartment was and couldn’t bother you there.

at least, that’s what you think.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“i believe we were having a conversation.”

you groan, rolling over in your bed and shoving your face deeper into your pillow, the silk duvet wrapped around you protecting your legs from the cold as you slept. you truly believed you were just having the same dream. “right there, si.” you mumbled, shifting in your sheets.

“right there, baby?” simon snickers, standing over you as you sleep peacefully. he’d overheard you saying that you’d been having dreams about him and so he put the rage he felt towards you for walking away from him aside. for the first time since he’d first found his way into your apartment, he reached his hand out and rests it on your thigh, grinning at the way you hum and relish in it. you may have hated him, but your body didn’t. “that feel good?”

the moment he puts his hand on you, you’re snapped awake. the dreams were vivid, but they’d never felt this real, hence why you shot up only to find an empty bedroom, causing you to groan and stand to your feet. “why are you fucking haunting me?” you whisper to what you think is the empty bedroom, standing in nothing but one of his old hoodies and a pair of panties, having been too tired after walking home to properly dress yourself for bed.

“because i fucking miss you.”

you’re nothing short of surprised when simon emerges from the shadows, hands shoved into his pockets and his expression nothing short of enraged.

“how’d you get—“

“shut up. i heard you talk long enough in front of that club.” he cuts you off as he strides over to you and clamps his hand over your mouth before pushing you onto your bed. “you think i like being all possessive and jealous? i wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t so fucking stupid. you’re so naive it’s a wonder how you’ve made it this far into adulthood. i took care of you, for fucks sake. made sure no one fucked with someone as pure and as innocent as you. every time i yelled at you, i was just trying to protect you. that so wrong?”

“simon-“

“i swear to god, ill gag you.” he snaps, reaching into your bedside table as he continues talking. you unsure why you’re even listening, why you’re not screaming at him to get out. “do you think it’s easy to watch you fuck other men?” he raises an eyebrow as he pulls a silk hair ribbon from your bedside table and grabs your wrists, one of his large hands managing to fit both of yours in his grip. “watch them kiss the pretty tummy i love so much? watch them miserably fail to eat the pussy i adore?” he ties your wrists together as he continues his angry rambles as he lays you down on your bed ever so gently, a contrast from his sharp and harsh words. “you’re stupid, angel. you’re the silliest girl i’ve ever met and you aren’t ready to be alone. been following you since the day you left and you still manage to make all the wrong decisions.”

“you.. you’ve been following me?” your voice is hushed, a simple and soft whisper. since the day you left, for over 365 days, he’d been following you. and for some reason, you’re not mad. you’re sat on your bed, wrists tied and simon still angrily rambling, and you aren’t mad. no.

you’re turned on.

the way he’s degrading you, his words humiliating and insulting, but you can’t deny the way it makes your cunt pulse and throb. you’re wet and you hate it. hate that your body still reacts to him like this, hate that your mind is still fixed on him, and you hate that you can’t hate him. your facade of hate and rage is crumbling quickly and you hate it. you’re unsure if it was his words from earlier, him reminding you that he wasn’t all bad that was making you rethink your decision, if it was the image of him following you around to protect you, but regardless of what it was, it was making your cunt warm and your eyes watery. your feelings were confusing and as much as you tried to act tough, you couldn’t. you crumbled completely, breaking out into soft sobs that finally made simon stop his rambling.

you felt so.. stupid. so, so stupid for ever leaving him. all he wanted to do was protect you and you failed to see it. your sobs grew louder as you succumbed to your own mind, allowing yourself to feel everything you tried to hide, including your attraction to simon who was looking at you sob, his fingers itching to touch his dick that was growing hard.

“you know i always loved it when you cried.” his voice has died down a whisper before he slaps you. “you’re an idiot. can’t believe you said all those things about me when all i wanted to do was keep you safe? how could you?” he mocks a pout, causing you to sob harder, your words incoherent as your wrists rub against the silk ribbon around them. “i’m sorry! ‘m so sorry.” you manage to choke out, which makes him click his tongue and shake his head.

“sorry’s not enough. been watching you whore around for a year. do you know how much of a dirty slut you’ve become? now i hafta ruin you all over again. make sure you remember it’s me and it’s always going to be me.” standing, he sheds his black sweatpants and sits right atop your thighs, palming himself over his boxers as he looks at you, his hand cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb over your cheeks. “so pretty when you cry.” he hums before he slaps you, the impact causing you to sob harder and your cunt to ache for some kind of attention. “that’s my fucking girl.”

it doesn’t take long for simon to pull off his boxers, using your tears as a lubricant as he brings his hand up and down his cock while watching you closely, his smile nothing short of cocky as he slaps you once more, this time on your thigh. “you’re a fucking whore.” his voice is a whisper as he grins at you, his words so cruel and his tone so soft that all it does is make you sob harder. “had so many men in and out of this fucking apartment, so many inside of your cunt, i’m surprised it still works. you were such a good girl when i met you, but now you’re nothing but a slut.”

“no, ‘m not.. ‘m not a slut.” you hiccup. “i just..” you trail off, the words dying on your tongue and making simon mock a pout once more. “you just what? wanted to open your legs to any man who gave you attention? that’s practically the definition of a slut.” sighing, simon speeds up the movements of his hand, his soft whimpers and moans echoing in your ears as you writhe beneath him. it’s complete torture to have to sit there and watch him jerk off while you don’t get an ounce of pleasure.

“si, please.” you beg through broken sobs.

“i’m not touchin’ you, love. after all the men you’ve had, you don’t deserve me in you.” he shakes his head as you let out cry after cry, making him grow annoyed. he suddenly sits up before shoving his cock between your trembling lips. “tired of hearing you cry because of shit you’ve done. shut up and suck my dick.”

though it’s what got want, you settle for it, wrapping your lips around his length as you run the underside of your tongue up and down his shaft, your teary eyes looking up at him for his approval as he nods. “there you go. atta fuckin’ girl. just how you used to.”

it’s not long until he’s fucking your face, no care for how you’re doing as he pushes his cock in and out of your mouth, reveling in the way your spit pools down your chin and your tears slide down your cheeks. it’s all so erotic to him. after watching you for so long, dreaming about this very moment, he finally gets to live it, gets to feel your lips wrapped around him once more. “missed this pretty mouth.” he hums out before pulling away. “but i’m so disappointed in you.” he sighs, using your spit as lubricant to pump his cock. “such a stupid girl to think you could live without me.”

“simon, please.” you beg. you’re utterly humiliated and all you want is for him to bury his cock in you as you bury yours in his neck and try to forget what you’ve done. when he slaps your thigh, you jolt and let out another sob.

“whores don’t get my cock.” he growls. “but i’ll admit, i do like seeing you like this. all helpless and crying so fucking beautifully for me.” it’s odd how his demeanor changes so quickly as he moves away to press kisses to your tear-stained cheeks before moving down to your neck. “you’re wearin’ my hoodie.” simon’s voice goes soft as he pulls away, looking over the fabric he adored to see you in.

“yeah.” you sniffle.

“always looked so pretty in it.” he slightly smiles. it’s a genuine smile and simon hates that he can’t keep up his composure either. he wants to be mad at you, to call you every degrading name in the book while he forces you to sit there and watch him touch his cock, but he goes soft. he grabs your wrists, pressing his lips to yours for the first time since you’d broke up and it only further breaks through his rage and anger. he’s.. softer than you thought he would be, his lips moving in a gentle synchronization with yours as his hands slip under the hoodie, his touch sending goosebumps across the gentle skin he’s tracing soft circles on as he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring the crevices he knows like the back of his hand before he breaks the kiss to look at you. “you’re gonna ride my thigh like the dirty fucking whore you are, yeah?” his hands moved to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you nod. “atta girl.”

he allows you straddle his thigh, his hands on your hips as you sniffle and rock your hips against his thigh, wanting to complain that he hadn’t taken off your panties, but you knew this softness wouldn’t last long, so you took what you could get, finding a steady rhythm as your still ribbon tied hands were sat higher on his thigh, trying to reach for his cock before he pushed them away, giving you a warning glance that made you pout as you continued to rock against him. your anger towards him melted completely as you looked over him. despite how much time had passed, he still looked at you with love and admiration. his eyes were stuck on yours and his hands were still on your hips, gently stroking your skin in a way that made your cunt flutter as you let out a shaky sigh and lowered your head. “si..” you hum out.

“what is it, baby? what do you need?” he lifts your head and strokes your cheek.

“gonna cum.” you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut before he slaps your thigh and you re-open them.

“no, baby. need you to wait for me, can you do that?” he’s so gentle right now, which you know is about to fade because said gentleness is what makes you cum, your climax washing over you in waves. it’s so much more intense than the ones you’ve had without him and it sends you falling into his chest, your legs shaking around him and the damp spot in your panties growing as you let out a soft cry, your body shivering when you finally come down and catch sight of his expression.

“never fuckin’ listened, did you?” he sighs, placing you back on the bed and tearing the hoodie in to, causing you to yelp. “simon! i wanted that.”

“shut up, i’ll give you another one.” he hissed as he pulls your panties and bra off. you expect him to eat you, but you’re surprised when he just.. stares at you. his eyes roam over your entire body like you’re a piece of artwork that was meant to be worshipped.

which to him, you were.

he loved every inch of your body. the way your tummy sometimes protrude through your dresses or shirts, how your thighs would rub together when you’d walk and how they’d expand when you sat down, how plush and warm you were. you were a bigger girl, but you never let it bother you. you wore what you wanted and did what you wanted without letting your weight stop you, which is what drew simon to you in the first place.

he had been at a club and he noticed you arguing with a guy for whatever reason. when the taller male began sizing you up, simon jumped in to protect you, despite not knowing you. he watched the way you immediately clung to him, continuing to yell at the guy who didn’t want to even look simon in the eye before he’d just walked off, leaving you to thank him and ask him for a drink, which is how you both hit it off. you were so confident and so sweet, all you needed was just a bit of protection, and simon became that. you became his everything from that night on. you were all he thought of, all he dreamed of, all he saw when he shut his eyes. he wanted you and that was all he would ever want. he loved you, for fuck’s sake, hence why he was so hurt.

he adored you, every inch of you, and you’d just.. left him. he worshipped you, he kissed the ground you walked on, he was obsessed with you. he always would be.

“hate how fucking pretty you are.” he sighs, leaning in close to your neck and peppering kiss after kiss on your body as his hands explore every inch of as if trying to re-familiarize himself with the way you feel in his hands. “makes it impossible to be mad at you.” when he reaches your thighs, he spends a lot of time kissing your inner thighs and grinning at the way you whimper and try to carefully buck your hips up to help him reach the area where you need him most, but all he does is move further away.

“simon.” you try to say sternly but fail, your words coming out in a distasteful whine that makes him slap your inner thigh.

“shut up and wait.” he snarls, continuing to kiss at your thighs while his thumb runs over the area he’d just slapped in an attempt to soothe it. it feels like forever before he finally begins to hover over your cunt, smiling at the warmth before pulling away and grinning wickedly at you. “gotta tell me somethin’ first.”

you groan, but look back at him. “what?”

“gotta tell me you missed me.” he hums, hands squeezing and kneading at the skin of your thighs.

“i missed you.” you groan, clearly trying to get this over with but pout when he doesn’t budge, imploring you to talk more. “simon, ive been having dreams about you since we broke up. of course i miss you.”

“really? what kind of dreams?” he feigns innocence, pretending he hadn’t overheard you at the cafe.

“the last time we had sex. for some reason, every single night and every time i fall asleep, no matter where i am, im forced to relive the last time you were buried in my cunt.” you grumble, growing embarrassed by the admission. when simon stays quiet, you find your embarrassment growing, feeling even more stupid than you already had.

but the feeling fades when he shoves his face between your legs, his tongue lapping at you eagerly, as if he’s been starved of you for far too long.

it’s then that you finally find out what you’ve been missing.

and its simon.

he’s completely ruined you for any other man. no tongue feels as good between your legs as his, no fingers curl the same way his used to, no one’s cock feels as good as his because no one is him. simon is truly the only one who can fulfill you and the thought of that mixed with the feel of him between your legs infills you with shame. you’re so disappointed that you’ve let him back into your life, your home, your legs. and yet, you feel so stupid for having walked away from him in the first place. he protected you, kept you safe. and there was nothing wrong with that. you were crazy for thinking that there was an issue with that.

“god, missed the way you taste so much.” he growls out, continuing to lap at you as his hands grab your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer. “you were always so wet f’me. did you get this wet for them?”

“no—no. never.” you shake your head. “only—nghh—you.”

“just how i like it.” he hums, pulling his lips off of your clit with a pop! “just for me. only for me.”

sitting down, he grabs your wrists and pulls you over his lap. “think i owe you a punishment for running away in the first place, don’t i?”

the punishment in question is a spanking that leaves you wracked with sobs after, all while simon told you just how dumb you were and told you what a slut you were, the words now ingrained in your mind. you felt so disgusting. like you’d betrayed simon. you were nothing but a slut, a complete idiot for leaving him.

when he helped you up, all you could do was fall into his chest, letting out different choked apologies as your hands fought against the ribbon tied around your wrists. your body was wracked with sobs as he held you close, shushing you and rubbing your bare back.

“i’m sorry, im so sorry.” you whisper. “i’m an idiot, im an idiot.”

“it’s okay. we all make mistakes, angel.” he whispered. “i forgive you.”

“need you to fuck me. please. i—i don’t want anyone else. i want you.” you look up at him with teary eyes he can’t refuse, which is why he lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs before pushing in, cooing at the feeling of your cunt re-familiarizing itself with him.

it burns slightly, the once comfortable stretch slightly burning as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“hey, hey. eyes on me.” simon hums, grabbing your chin and smiling as you look up at him. “there we go. that’s my girl.”

it doesn’t take long until he’s pounding into you, his gentle touch a stark contrast from his rough thrusts. “tell me, love, did they feel the way i do?”

“no! no, never.” you cry out, a mess of broken moans and occasionally sobs as your cunt squeezed him. you’d would’ve forgot the way he felt inside of you if it weren’t for those dreams, but having the real thing is so, so much better. you’ve missed him. you were an idiot for leaving.

when simon noticed a tear slipping down your cheek, he smiles. “what? my baby realizing how stupid she is?”

you nod at his words. “ ‘m sorry for leaving.”

“it’s okay, silly girl. i forgive you. i’ll take care of you.” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead as he continues to pound into you. he pushes his head into your neck, immediately biting and sucking at your skin the way he used to, marking every last inch of your neck before moving down to your chest. “missed your tits so much. so heavy, so fuckin’ pretty.” his lips wrap around your nipple for a few moment before he moves to the rest of your tits, sucking and nipping wherever he could. this was part of simon’s possessive nature, every time you had sex, he made sure to mark you, to make sure other’s know that you weren’t on the market.

“you wanna be my good girl again? wanna be my pretty baby?” simon implores, raising his head and watching as you pathetically nod. “god, i’ll do anything. please.” you moan out.

“cum f’me, love.” he grins, adjusting himself to hit the spot inside of you that would make you see starts, which is what made you crumble. your legs shook and your eyes shut as you let out a cry of his name. your cunt squeezed him, wrapping around him so tightly he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to. he watched the way your body shook his hold, the way your legs jerked, the way your eyes rolled back. “there we go, baby. there we go.” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, slowing his thrusts to help you ride out your high before smiling. “on your knees, c’mon, baby.”

he helped you onto your hands and knees before pushing into you once more, now slapping your ass with every thrust. “my sweet and silly girl. ‘s all you needed. just a little punishment to remind you of what we had.”

“si.. ‘m close, ‘m so close.” you whine before shrieking as he slaps your ass. “you can wait. you just came. don’t be a greedy slut.”

you mutter out different apologies as simon continues. “you feel so good, so fucking wet f’me. love the way you grip me when i fuck you.”

“y-yeah?” you chuckle, entirely too fucked out to remember your embarrassment. instead, you revel in the humiliation, the shame. in a sick and twisted way, it reminds you to never leave simon again.

“mhm. so tight.” he hums, slapping your ass once again. “she missed me, didn’t she?” the she in question is your cunt that fluttered at his words.

“that answer your question?”

“sure fuckin’ did.”

his pace is brutal, hips ramming into yours as your moans echo off the wall. you make up your mind then and there. you want simon back. you need him back. it’s not that you just can’t give up the sex, you can’t give him up. he kept you safe, protected you, defended you. you needed him.

“simon, i—i need you.” you whimper out, causing him to chuckle. “i’m giving it to you, baby.”

“no, no. i need you.” you repeat, more firm in your words despite letting out a moan just a few seconds after. his pace falters, but he regains his composure, running his hand up your back. “my girl, my good girl. ‘m not goin’ anywhere. couldn’t ever leave you. not in a million years.”

“i’m so sorry, promise i won’t leave again.” your still tied hands grab at your pillow, squeezing it tightly and shoving your face into it to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb your neighbors.

“alright, baby. i trust you.” leaning down, he presses soft kisses onto your back while pushing in and out of you. “but you’re still a dirty slut, and dirty sluts don’t get to cum, do they?” his gentleness faded as he pulls your hair, forcing your head out of the pillow.

“no, daddy. no they don’t.” simon can practically hear your pout as slaps your ass. “need you do somethin’ f’me.” he lets go of your hair and grabs your phone. “call kelly.”

normally, you would’ve questioned him, told him there was no way you’d call your friend while having sex with him—the boyfriend she despised—but you didn’t care about what she would say or her opinion. you knew she’d have an entire monologue prepared, each word a lie about how terrible simon was, how toxic he was. you normally listened to those monologues and made sure you took the words to heart.

which is why kelly was surprised when she answered the phone and you told her exactly who you were fucking.

“why! why would you ever do that?! he’s—“

“kelly, shut up.” you groan. partly because simon just slapped your ass and partly because you’re annoyed with kelly. “he protects—*right there! right there!*—“ you’re cut off when simon finds that special spot, causing the words to die on your tongue as your mind goes blank. it’s as if you loose all ability to function, almost falling forward as whoreish moans and cries spill from your lips, your eyes rolling back and the slightest hint of drool trickling out of the corner of your mouth.

“she’s so pretty.” simon chuckles.

“get away from her! she was doing so good, so good without you!” kelly practically screams from the other end of the phone.

“she wants me here, kelly.” simon mocks, pushing your head into the mattress while his other hand pushes you up just a bit further, forcing his cock impossibly deeper. “tell her, baby.”

“want.. want. ‘im here.” you slur out, your eyes fluttering shut. “feels so, so fucking good.”

“don’t do this. you don’t need to do this.” kelly begs you. but her words fall on deaf ears.

“i love you, i love you.” the cock-drunken slur seems to ignite a fire inside of him that sends his hips drilling as far as he can, the head of his cock practically abusing your g-spot and sending a shriek up your throat and out from between your lips.

“god, i love you too. gonna breed this pretty pussy to keep you all to myself forever.” he growls out, smiling at the way you shriek at that and your cunt squeezed around him. “yeah? you like that idea? want me to give you a baby? watch you grow all round and take care of you when you’re pregnant?”

“don’t you fucking dare, simon.” kelly growls out. “i’m coming over.”

“no need.” simon shrugs. “she’ll be properly knocked up by then.” leaning down, simon presses a kiss to your scalp. “tell her how much you want this, how you want to be filled to the brim with my cum and round with my kid.”

“i wan’ it, i wan’ it.” you sound like an absolute whore, words barely coherent and tone full of excitement at the thought. “need it.”

“see? she wants it.” simon shrugs, grabbing your phone. “we’ll see you at the gender reveal, kelly. or not. i don’t quite like you.” he hangs up, throwing your phone back onto the bed just as your cunt begins to spasm around him.

“you gonna cum, love?” he chuckles as you nod. “good. cum with me, yeah?”

your climax washes over you the same time his does, your cunt gripping him for dear life as you cry out and grab your pillow the best you can with your hands still restricted. it’s exactly what you need and that’s made abundantly clear when you begin to coat simon, your bed, the back of your thighs, and most importantly his cock, in a clear/-ish liquid that washes away the milky white and foamy ring that formed around the base of his cock.

“gonna fill you, oh my god.” simon whimpers as his hands find your hips and grips them as he spills into your cunt, the feel of you squirting and squeezing him all too much. he gives you every last drop of him, not moving until he’s certain you’ve perfectly milked him before pulling out and replacing his cock with his index finger, fucking his cum back into you as you let out a lazy sigh.

“how you doin’ love?” he stands and enters your bathroom, grabbing a damp washcloth and carefully bringing it over your skin as he pecks your forehead. when you hum, he knows what you mean and nods. “i love you, silly girl. don’t ever leave me again.”

“i love you too.” your response is genuine as you tiredly smile at him.

sure, you’re still stuck on the fact that he’d managed to follow you around for a little over a year, but they don’t call him simon ‘ghost’ riley for no reason.

I seriously need some Hwang Jun ho fics with a plus size reader

There aren't enough and i need more please 🥺!!!!!!

Anyone have any dominant chubby reader fics they’d like to share/recommend 🫶🏻??? 🥲

Why do all chubby reader fanfics have to have the reader being degraded and humiliated, LIKE it’ll start with some sexy or awesome concept in the story and then boom, submissive reader. LIKE PLEASE FEED ME SOME DOM PLUSIZED ACTION. But when I do find one It ends up poorly written and rushed or to short. HELPP

🩵Touya/Dabi with a Chubby!reader🩵

🩵Just the sight of you makes Touya's mouth water. As a man covered in rough scarring and staples, your soft curves and smooth skin take his breath away. That fat ass is a nice bonus too.

🩵He knows you have insecurities, so he'll take every opportunity to make sure you know how attractive he finds you. Whether it's complimenting you out of the blue, whispering the naughty things he wants to do to you into your ear or sometimes, he'll simply press his clothed, erect cock against your ass, so you can feel what you do to him simply by being in his presence.

🩵He's extremely protective of you. If he hears anyone giving you shit, hitting on you or doing anything to make you question your relationship with him, he won't hesitate to burn the source of trouble to ash.

🩵You call the bits of fat on the top of your jeans a muffin top, but Touya, of course, insists that they're love handles. "Just more for me to hold onto while I'm fuckin' ya, Doll" he'd always mumble while he kissed along your neck.

🩵He'll spend hours running his hands over every inch of your body. Stretch marks, bumps, rolls, curves, he doesn't give a single fuck, he loves every bit of it, every bit of you.

🩵He gets a lot of joy in slapping your ass to see it jiggle. It almost instantly makes him hard and your reaction always puts a smile on his handsome face.

🩵This man LOVES eating you out. Having his head between your thick thighs, his tongue inside you, it feels like a dream to him. He'd stay there all night if you'd allow it.

🩵Touya absolutely will not tolerate self deprecating comments. If he hears you being 'naughty' like that, you'll pay for it in the bedroom. He'll eagerly bring you to brink of orgasm over and over again, a lustful grin on his face as his strong, skilled hands work their magic between your legs. Touya will spend hours punishing your poor throbbing clit mercilessly, withholding your orgasm from you until you take back whatever awful things you'd said about yourself.

🩵He fucking loses his mind when you finally agree to ride him. It took some coaxing and convincing that you weren't too heavy and sure enough, you aren't, as you sink down on his thick cock. He takes you by surprise when his strong arms lift you and drop you back down like you're nothing, making you both groan in ecstasy.

🩵Touya is convinced you're the best cuddler on the planet. Not only does he think you're so soft and cute, but your curves are perfect for resting his arms in as he wraps them around you to pull you closer. You may see yourself as flawed, but he knows your beautiful and as long as he's with you, this man is on cloud nine.

paying off the debt

joel x fem!plus size!reader x clint | wc: 1.6k

summary: when your husband doesn't pay his debt, the two men coming to collect decide on a different form of payment

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. DDDNE. TW: non-con. Dub-con. Infidelity. Unprotected p in v. Oral (m & f receiving). Degradation. Slut shaming. Titty slapping. Nipple play. Dacryphilia. Anal fingering. Spanking. Creampie. Reader is plus sized and wears a silk nightgown, has female genitalia and breasts but is otherwise not described. A few mentions of another Pedro-char not shown. Never beta'd because this all happened so quickly, dear god. If I've missed anything please let me know!

a/n: this is my submission for the Magic Number Writing Challenge hosted by @mothandpidgeon , @schnarfer , and @whocaresstillthelouvre ❤️ I have wanted to write something for these Clint and Joel for the longest! And I hope I've done Clint justice, as it's my first time writing him. (He owns me, heart and soul.)

Shoutout to @milla-frenchy who is the Queen of Hot Threeways and who was my cheerleader for this little daydream-turned-writing project. You're the best, Milla!

dividers by @firefly-graphics 👑

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You'd only ever caught glimpses of Clint between a crack in the door or through the blinds when he'd come by to speak to your husband. A big, scary, intimidating man like him, rough-looking, though handsome, face decorated with scars.

And now he's between your legs, slurping away at your pussy while his buddy, another big, strong man referred to as Joel pins your arms over your head on the other side.

It was just after seven a.m. when they knocked and you, still in your white silk nightie from last night, answered it, still half-asleep, not thinking.

"We're here for payback, little lady," Clint had growled, hands on your hips as he pushed his way into your home, Joel at his heels. "Tried to talk some sense into your husband but it ain't takin'. Now we gotta show him we mean business."

Now you're sprawled on your bed, still unmade at the early hour, Clint's tongue plundering your cunt while Joel's big hands hold you down, thumb lightly stroking over your wrists, as if to soothe you, as if it's a romantic tryst you're engaging in.

Shocked into submission, you let it happen, too overwhelmed by his ravenous appetite to think about anything else. Clint swirls his tongue around your bud before teasing your folds, licking at the jucture between your thigh and torso, eyes lifting to watch your expression, to see you slightly struggling against being pinned down. He knows he's got you, and with his lips sealed around your needy clit, it's game over. He holds you down as your hips lift off the bed, still in control, keeping at it while you drench him.

"There now, see, that wasn't so bad," he murmurs, getting to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Damn, you're so pretty when you come.."

"She is," Joel agrees in his gruff voice.

"I was just getting you ready for me. Trust me, little darlin', you can't handle me without getting ready first."

The moan that escapes your lips is absolutely sinful. His cock is a stretch to fit, even as wet as you are, your cunt takes time to elongate, housing him deep within your center. And though he doesn't give you time to adapt to his size, he does go slow and steady, your thighs bracketing his as he thrusts lazily, looking down at the way your silk nightie is pushed up over your generous hips. He tells Joel to push the top half down, and when he does they both paw greedily at your tits.

"Dave likes 'em thick, huh?" Clint growls with a punctuated thrust. "Round ass, big tits.. and tight pussy."

At the mention of your husband's name you whimper, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in shame. You shouldn't be enjoying what's being done to you. They're doing it for themselves, to send a message. But you're getting off on being their plaything.

"She's lovin' it." Joel's fondling you, pinching your nipples and giving them a few light slaps. That and Clint fucking you is starting to send you over the edge.

"Yeah she does," Clint says proudly. "She probably can't even come unless someone's holdin' her down." He nods at Joel to let go of your arms. You keep them there, flexing your hands as the circulation finds its way back to your wrists.

"She likes it!"

"Little slut."

Clint picks up the pace, spurred on by your neediness. Your hips find his rhythm and match it, drawing him in deeper. "That's right," he rasps. "Touch yourself. Lemme see you work that pretty little clit."

Your fingers desperately circle your nub, working yourself into a frenzy as he fucks into you, spreading you open on his fat cock. Above you, Joel leans down to suck your nipples. You lick your tongue along his cheek until he stops to kiss you, plundering your mouth with his tongue.

"She's fuckin' feral," Clint growls, shoving himself into you ruthlessly. "Keep that mouth of hers busy, Joel. She's about to explode soon."

Joel unzips his jeans, pulling out his thick length. Head to the side, your mouth waters at the sight of it, long, cut, girthier than Clint, with precum already beading the top. You don't have to be told twice to suck it. Your lips wrap around it as he holds the base, feeding it to you. Clint slows down marginally, watching you start to suck off his friend.

Joel thrusts shallowly, going deeper when you start moaning. "Gonna bruise the back of your throat, honey."

"That's right, gag her," Clint adds. "She wants it. She's fuckin' dyin' for it."

You're drooling around Joel's cock, his balls hitting your chin as you're moaning around him, incoherent, gluttonous, insensate.

"Fucked her stupid," Clint sneers. "Time to give her what she wants.." He's panting as he takes hold of your thighs, hoisting them around his hips and slamming into you, the lewd sounds of your colliding flesh the most obscene and perfect thing you've ever heard.

"Your husband know he married such a slut?" Clint continues to taunt, breath growing heavy as he nears the edge. "Gonna show him when he gets home.." His hips stutter before he spills deep inside you, and as you moan your throat constricts around Joel, who pulls out before he can blow his load into your mouth.

You're vaguely aware of them switching places, and then you're put on your hands and knees. You don't care; you're not in control. Your body is simply a funfair, a ride to go on, and it's a kind of freedom in just letting them do what they want. They're still taking care of you, Joel rubbing his length against your still-sensitive clit, sliding in between your folds and between your ass cheeks before he notches at your entrance. You're soaking wet with your fluids and Clint's jizz, making the way easier for Joel to slide in, an appreciative sigh leaving his lips. Your moan is muffled by Clint's semi-hard dick probing your lips, your tongue coming out to swirl around the crown.

"She's so good," he moans, running his fingers through your hair. "She's makin' it all up to us for her sorry-ass husband's debt."

"Gotta come around more often, pay her a little visit when Dave's out," Joel says with a sneer, his large hands digging into your hips as he thrusts home, bottoming out as your cunt squelches wantonly.

"Suckin' me so good," Clint moans again. "Get a taste of yourself on my dick, darlin'. I bet your husband doesn't give you his dick often enough, that's why you're beggin' for it from us, huh?"

You moan as his tip touches the back of your throat and you gag. "Eyes on me," he tells you. "Lemme see those pretty eyes waterin' while it's chokin' my dick."

He's bruising your throat, your mouth stuffed with him as you practice breathing through your nose. Meanwhile Joel's balls deep in your cunt, watching himself slide in and out with ease. His thumb traces the puckered outline of your asshole. "Your man ever take you here? He ever claim this tight little hole?" He spits on your hole and eases his thumb in just enough to make you squeeze around him. "I bet Dave's never even touched it. Probably never even asked, has he?"

"He asked you a question," Clint says sharply, squeezing your jaw in his hand. "You better answer him."

"No," you answer them, swallowing more air after Clint removes his cock from your mouth. He slaps your cheeks with it before feeding it to you again. "Good girl," he praises softly, something like kindness in his eyes as he palms your tits, kneading them softly.

"Poor thing's been so unfulfilled. Her pussy's only gotten wetter the more we talk about her like the piece of meat she is." Joel's hand lands with a hard smack on your ass and you yelp.

"It's the only thing she's good for," Clint agrees, holding your head still while he fucks your mouth. Your moans turn to an endless, tuneless hum as Joel speeds up, sensing you're close to coming for him. "Fuck, she's tight. She's damn near gonna drain me."

"Fill 'er up, Joel. Get it in there nice and deep so she'll be leaking both of us for days."

Joel's face contorts, brow furrowed, teeth bared as he gets close, and right as you come he pulses within you, shooting his cream into you.

"Turn her over," Clint barks, and Joel takes just a moment more to keep the feeling of your sweet snatch around him before pulling out. A little semen dribbles from you and he stuffs it back in as he moves you onto your back.

"Pretty little white nightie," he sneers. "Gonna give you somethin' else white to wear."

Your nightdress still hiked up over your thighs and pulled down showing off your breasts, Clint stands between your legs and strokes himself. With a few pleasured grunts he comes, painting your mound and belly. You're panting, trying to come down from the summit of the strongest orgasm of your life as they spread your legs, lift your knees up to view the damage.

"Jesus, this pussy's ruined."

"She's gaping."

"Keep our cum inside you, baby, as long as you can. Let your man watch it drip out when he comes home."

You're too fucked out to say anything as the men take their leave, staring up at the ceiling fan, slowly circling in the early summer heat.

"Dave's not gonna like that," you hear one of them mutter.

"Fuck Dave. He should've paid up."

taglist: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @tateypots @thedilfdiaries @sunshinehaze1

and anyone else who reads this, I love you so much ❤️

I find this oddly sweet.

hi, can I request a plus size reader who keeps running away from könig bc she thinks she's undesirable but the chase just makes könig get turned on ever more? and he finally dominate her, breeding her full and a lil dub con would be nice.

sorry if's too much and sorry the English, it's my 2nd language. btw big ass fan of your writing :(

plus size!reader who thinks she’s undesirable despite the affection her big boyfriend showers her in :(( nowt wrong with your english, pet. and i’m a big arse fan of you 🫵🏻 :3

mdni. slight dub-con, cat and mouse pursuit, obsessive/yandere themes, in public, no foreplay :(, praise, sappy and sloppy, dom x sub, shy!reader, down-bad könig, very big-dicked könig :((, belly bulge, breeding kink, creampie !! not proofread </3

creds to the original creator of this image, whoever ya are ((:

you’re not sure how long you’ve been walking aimlessly, lost in thought. you just don’t feel good enough for him. he’s so beautiful — perfect in every aspect of whatever ‘perfect’ equates to. you’d bagged the austrian war machine somehow, at some point. he’d approached you in a club, noticing you alone and nursing the same drink since you’d arrived, stirring the liquor with an olive-speared cocktail stick. the rest is history.

but you just can’t wrap your head around the fact that he’s yours. you’re in love the fact that you’re his. but why is he so content with you? he should be with a woman of athletic stature, like him. right? you’ve asked him before, and every time he tells you, “you think too much, schatz. i love you the way you are. i do not care for shape or size.”

and könig would remind you that he’s no arnold schwarzenegger or apollo creed himself. he has thick, meaty thighs and bulky shoulders — almost too wide for his body. he has firm fat on his pectorals that jiggle when he walks, like yours. his stomach folds when he sits down and bends over, quite chubby in the lower region where his pubic bone extends. his biceps aren’t defined or ripped, but more beefy with a little squidge if you pinch them.

and he doesn’t give a flying fuck. in fact, he’ll care when fucks can fly. he doesn’t understand why you’re so conscious of your appearance. könig worships your body. he’ll touch you whenever the opportunity strikes, hands cupping, massaging, rubbing, stroking, resting as soon as the chance presents itself. but you just can’t accept that his admirations and reassurances are genuine. he’s too good for you. he should be with someone who is confident and self-assured. someone who’s willing to give themselves to him sexually.

it’s your own low opinion of yourself that’s holding back the intimate domains of your relationship; in the sense that you’ve not had sex yet. again, könig doesn’t care. he’ll wait for you. he’ll wait until fucks fly (preferably the fuck you give about your weight), but he understands it’s a deep and meaningful forte.

and great, now you don’t know where you are. you stop in your tracks, glancing around at your surroundings. you’re losing light as the setting sun kisses the horizon, the silhouette of distant trees skimming the pinkish clouds. you pull your phone from your pocket — he’s been blowing it up. fifty messages at least. you could backtrack, you guess. but then you’d have to face him. you’ve done this before, left your shared home. he finds you every time, but he’s never mad. only ever concerned and self-deprecating, rambling that he should be better.

so you keep walking, fingers kneading at your tummy as you do. your lower belly moves independently from your physique with the low incline of your stride — but only slightly. no one else would notice, not that they’d be looking. but you always notice, and it makes you feel like you matter a little less. you’re walking away from the one person who makes you feel like you belong. who lets you know that you have every right to feel comfortable in your own skin. but he shouldn’t have to, because he should be with someone prettier. someone skinnier.

your phone rings then, a selfie of you and könig displaying as his caller id shows on the screen. you swallow, still wandering like a headless chicken towards the treeline up ahead. “hey.” you answer, twigs snapping beneath your feet once you reach the woods. “why are you doing this again, mein liebe?” his voice is soft and inquisitive. he’s so patient with you. “i’m sorry.” you sniffle, emotions finally getting to you. “i can’t give you what you want.”

“and what is it i want that you think you can’t give me?” he asks you, his signal slightly distorted. it sounds like he’s outside too, probably looking for you. you don’t answer his question, holding the phone to your ear as you walk in silence. leaves rustle beneath you, birds chirping above.

“you look beautiful today, haser. that dress is new, ja?”

you stop dead, heart plummeting into your churning gut. you spin on the spot as you look around, eyes darting like a compass in a blizzard. “könig?” your voice wavers, chest heaving as you scan every bush, every tree, every fallen trunk. “did you follow me again?” now it’s your turn for the silent treatment. “könig, where are you?”

“run.”

and you swear you can already hear his footsteps thundering towards you when you flee, the call still connected as you sprint through shrubbery and branches. an evil chuckle echoes from his line and you whimper, nostrils flaring and cheeks burning as you hurry, weaving the obstacles of nature in your path. “that’s right, little rabbit. don’t let me catch you.” his sinister voice tells you — distorted. “let’s make a deal.”

you glance over your shoulder, almost tripping over as your legs carry you haphazardly through the brush. “if you escape, i promise not to come for you.” his voice proposes, but you swear you can hear it somewhere behind you. ”but if i catch you, you’ll never leave me again. ja?”

you cry out, exhausted. doubling over, you brace yourself against the nearest tree, face glistening with a thin film of sweat. you hang up the phone, huffing out staggered breaths while you check the coast is clear. something snaps nearby, no doubt under the heel of a combat boot. you clasp a hand over your mouth and nose, steadying your breaths. the phone rings again and your heart drops when his face appears on your screen. a notification pops down, then.

pick up, herzchen.

you swipe it away and stub your thumb onto the red button, declining his call. leaning back, you allow your head to thud against the tree, windswept hair sticking to the rough bark like velcro. your heart rate skips when movement to your left alerts you of your uninvited company. he’s closer than you’d anticipated. your mobile vibrates yet again in your palm and your resolve crumbles. “leave me alone, please.” you plead with him, eyes flitting back and forth. he chuckles, darkly. a shiver rockets down your spine.

“you look ravishing, my dear; panting against that tree like that. i can see your skin sweating through your new dress. are you trying to turn me on?”

your lips part to retort, but you feel a hot breath fan over your neck and you shriek, dropping your phone as you duck away and swivel on the balls of your feet. he’s standing behind the tree, tall and menacing. his blue eyes pierce into your wide ones, wild and feral. you hadn’t heard him approach you. he’s frighteningly sneaky for his size.

“caught you, little mouse.”

you start to back away, shaking your head ‘no’ with your arms outstretched. but as quick as a hiccup he’s launching himself at you, pouncing on his prey as he tackles you to the forest floor. you squeal, the wind knocked out of you as he settles himself above you, parting your legs with his hand. “oh, schatz. you must stop running from me. i’ll always find you.”

you sniffle, hands weakly attempting to push him off. “why? why do you keep coming back for me?” his mask shifts as he frowns, head tilting like a curious mutt. “you are my liebling, nein? and also, finders keepers.” his hands caress the soft slope of your belly and the pudge of your sides, before sliding down to embrace the plump curves of your hips. “but why me?” you ask again, attempting to squirm away from his touches.

“i believe there is somebody out there for everyone.” he tells you, lifting your dress up so he can reveal your clothed pussy to him. stretch marks decorate your lower belly and upper thighs, faint cellulite dimples peppering the loose flesh. the sight gives him a drastic erection, the rigid outline of his straining cock imprinting the front of his cargos. “and you are my somebody.”

you wiggle and writhe when his hands vacate yours to arrive at his belt, fumbling to unbuckle it. “könig, anyone could see.” you whisper, raising your head to look around. he shushes you, gently pushing your head back down, before traipsing his finger down the divot of your cleavage, over the swell of your tummy, and between your legs. you suck in a shallow breath when he hooks the hem of your cotton panties, ripping them from you like it’s no biggie.

“no one comes out here. only silly girls who insist on running away, ja?” he confidently states, freeing his hard cock with a relieved sigh. your eyes bulge from their sockets, jaws literally dropping. he’s fucking huge, his cockhead sitting above his belly button when his length springs upright to slap his stomach. your pussy clenches at the thought of it being inside you, juices drooling down your arse crack of their one accord.

“let me show you, mausebärchen… how much i love this body of yours.” he crawls over you, his sniper hood draping over your chin and neck when his face levels with yours. you can only gawk up at him wordlessly, dumbfounded. your heart thaws at his determination to make you feel valued and attractive. you muster a small smile, eyes starting to water when he humps the swollen tip of his dick through your slick folds.

the stretch alone of your pussy lips spreading for him stings, and you can only imagine the pain of what’s to come when he finally enters you. “i will be gentle, haser.” he assures, as if reading your mind. “but i am big, so it will be… uncomfortable, no matter what.” you nod, eyes unable to part ways with his.

soon, he’s lubricated himself in your wetness enough to contemplate pushing in, cockhead resting heavily at your entrance. he tucks his face into your neck when he begins to roll his hips forward and you wince, squeezing your eyes shut as your fingers curl into the dirt beneath you. könig bends your legs, granting himself an easier angle to work with as he manouvers himself into you, his belly sandwiching against yours. you whimper, tears spurting with the dull ache of your cunt widening dramatically to take him.

“you’re doing so well, meine liebling. just a little more.” he praises you, hips still rocking gently as he tries to fit his impressive length between your tight walls. he’s slotted halfway into you so far, and he knows you’re struggling to adjust. “never mind.” he decides, propping himself on one arm so he can wipe the tears from your flushed cheeks. “i will not go any deeper.”

you frown, feeling guilty. “a-are you sure?” you peer between you, seeing a good portion of his cock still exposed. “ja, schatz. if you can only take my tip, that’s all you will get.” he practically demands as he commences soft strokes, thrusting his cockhead through your velvety cunt slowly and thoughtfully. you gasp, hands flying to cling onto his back, the muscles beneath his skin twitching and rippling with his efforts.

it takes ever fibre of self-control for könig to not ram his entire cock into your soaked cunny, having to bite his lip until he tastes blood to refrain from snapping his hips all the way. “gott, you’re so tight. so beautiful.” he drawls, hands planting on either side of your head, the lewd sounds of heavy breathing and broken moans filling the clearing. your pussy squelches around him, gradually sucking a little more of his length with each careful drag of his cock.

his gaze is fixated on your stomach, a few rolls present thanks to way he has you positioned. he can see the bump of his cockhead bulging below the flesh as he starts to sink deeper, a raw heat stirring in his balls. “perfect body for a mother.” he mindlessly tells you, and you swear you can see drool soaking through his mask. “let me make you one. let me fill you with my child, ja?”

you mewl, nails scratching at his back through the fabric of his compression shirt. “oh god, whatever you want.” you moan, face contorted with pleasure. “shit- ah!”

he grunts, retaining a deliberate and dexterous pace within you as he concentrates on giving your body the treatment it deserves. “i will breed you, liebe. i’ll breed you so full.” he blurts deliriously, drowned out by your cock-drunk whines. he chases the ambition with admirable determination, grunts and even whimpers falling from his mouth as he breeds your pussy — slurping around him.

before long you start to tremble, a white bliss bubbling in your loins as your uterus contracts. könig curses, sweat dampening his hood as his tempo starts to stutter and jitter. you wrap your limbs around him like a cub, face nuzzling in his chest to muffle your cries when you finally succumb to the rapture, milking him dry as he hits the same high in tandem with you.

he continues rocking into you, knees surely bruised and his trousers definitely mud-stained as he stays bent over your frame, mumbling drowsily about planting his baby in your pretty stomach. he doesn’t stop until he’s certain you couldn’t be any more full up.

he can’t think straight. His bones are like goo, his body a mind of its own.

miguel’s shaking away the mist from his mind, which continues to cloud his judgment.

his hair, which is slick with sweat, drips onto his forehead, and onto his naked and gleaming pecks. It’s more ragged than how it’s usually styled.

each harsh thrust of his hips continues to bounce the loose curls, in tandem with the clap and recoil of your plump ass.

“fuck, tesoro.” the sight alone made the man behind you groan loudly, causing him to grip at your hips harder.

leaning down towards your backside, Miguel shoved his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet, tangy scent.

he continued to batter his way inside your fleshy, gummy walls. Almost as if trying to get his thick cock to impliment its shape into your quivering hole.

“miguel…” whimpering, you gripped at the sheets under you, pushing your hips back to meet with his thrusts to get him to hit deeper inside.

biting down on your neck, Miguel groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. His eyes almost rolling to the back of his head just from it.

he began to speed up his thrusting, planting his feet onto the bed and slamming his hips onto your ass harder.

pulling back to move his hair out of his face, Miguel looked down to see where you both were connected, letting out a slight whimper at the sight of your fat pussy lips gripping at his dick. not wanting to let go of him.

“mierda. I’m not letting you go until you’re full of my seed, ¿entiendes?” He doesn’t even let you answer, because he’s already going back to wrapping his lips around your neck and grabbing at plump body. His hands snake around your large tits and wide waist to keep you in place.

even if you’d repeatedly asked for a break, if your legs shook from your orgasms, if you blacked out; this man wouldn’t let you go. At least, not until you’d squirted a few times and had lost the ability to walk the next day.

(miguel would definitely have a plus sized lover. It’s just in our Mexican nature!)

Writing Chubby Reader

Dear writers,

When writing a chubby reader why does she have to be insecure? Do you all look at a plus size/chubby person and assume they don't like their body? The reader is looking for something they can relate to, and being chubby doesn't mean insecurity. People who are considered skinny also have insecurities, amongst a bunch of average people.

It's one of the reasons why readers have specific requests. For example, whenever I'm reading a normal reader post I get the impression that I reading it in a white person's perspective, which is why I occasionally request black reader, that doesn't mean I'm insecure about my blackness, I just want something I can relate to. So why is it when I read chubby and plus size reader she is an insecure mess? I'm not chubby but I like reading chubby reader because I expect the beauty standards to be challenged, and I'm a sucker for body positivity, only for the enjoyment to be ruined once I get to the insecure part.

There are a ton of plus size women who are not insecure about their body and yet this fact seems to fly over the writer's head.

I was bullied, yet I'm able to acknowledge that I deserve better, that I am normal. I get that times have changed for some and circumstances concerning support is different for everyone, but this crap is getting really old.

Edit: There's more I'd like to add and clarify. I understand that this post has already gotten a lot of attention but I'd like to make more notes. I find it bothersome that a chubby reader always has to be a victim of bullying, people have been bullied for other things. Such as being too skinny, their ethnic background, disabilities and so much more. It's as if writers lack creativity when writing chubby/plus size reader. It's actually quite sad that they see chubby people in this fashion and the fact that they've reduced a reader's request to this level. Unless someone requested their insecurity it's not necessary.

I don't know if this was already tell,

But

The men's in asoiaf would have be for plus size/chubby woman.

At least for mariage, as historicaly people's who where plus size/chubby where the peoples who suffer the less of famines/having less food.

As so the one's who haved descendents/heirs.

So...

Maegor would have been for plus size woman logically/historicaly. As they where see as more able to have strong babies.

Daemon was a lot into a chubby/plus size Rhaenyra.

North lords where into it too, as it's more cold lands and all... I'm sure, that Creagan Stark was into plus size/chubby woman.

Gwayne Hightower? More to cuddles when all the bad things happen at the red keep and he have headache.

So yes, if your chubby/plus size reader. Thoses characters that you like/love, would definitely be into you for multiples reasons, don't let modern fashion and view made you think the opposite.

❤️

Don't get me wrong if your skinny/fit and all, they will also be into you.

about your opinion on the difference in plus-size!reader stories, i don't know if it's like that with everyone (and i also don't know if this is considered prejudice, please tell me if it is), but i like it and i don't read it because i think i'm appropriating something that isn't for me. the same happens with black!reader stories: i like it but i don't read it, because for me there are already many stories in which i'm the main "target" and i feel that by reading (black or plus-size stories) i will be appropriating something that someone else deserves much more (i don't know if you understand what I'm trying to say)

Hello, I think I understood what you meant, and I’ll try to answer as best I can from my perspective. I’ll divide my answer into three parts. The chubby/plus size reader, the poc reader, and the appropriation question. For the chubby/plus size reader, I think that you and other people can read the fictions that we target chubby/plus size reader, because being myself in this category, I have read many fictions where the reader is thin, and other chubby/plus size reader have read too.

For the poc reader, I would have trouble answering, for being a white person, I think it depends on the authors, in some fandoms, people were very aggressive about white people and explaining clearly and aggressively that they did not want their writings read. But personally, no matter the color of the skin, the author or the target audience, you can like a work, read it, watch it or listen to it, I write my fictions as neutral as possible (apart from the chubby/plus size side) so that everyone can enjoy fanfiction and feel included. I have always lived around people of different origins so the fact of categories a person because of his skin color is an abstract concept. I have always been taught not to judge a person by his skin colour but by his actions.

And to finish the subject of appropriation, I think very sincerely that this is a very delicate subject because everyone will have a different vision of the subject. For me there is no appropriation as long as there is respect, as for example Japan, if I put on a traditional kimono I will learn the meaning, the rituals, the tradition that surrounds it, I would wear it with respect and not strut about. In my countrie there is no such issue, because it is just crazy to see that someone knows my country, (as long as there is respect) I speak with knowledge being of Belgian origin, there are few people who would have heard about my country. (We have Brussels as capital just in case)

To summarize, I think that according to the authors and readers, the answer may differ. I am not an expert and even from very far away .

I will end with this words.

If we have to divide ourselves into a place that should bring us together no matter where we come from, that we have to start reading, listening, or looking at something based on our skin color, or our size, then our civilization regresses because we should be united, It scares me because we are all human.

I hope I’ve managed to answer you, honestly, if you want to read something that makes you want to read and that you like, go ahead, read as many fictions as you want. is not ashamed. Because it does not matter who reads what we write as long as it is a person who has appreciated our work and that there is mutual respect between author and readers then what good is it to break our heads with it?

If anyone wants to respond, go ahead, I’d like to hear from you, and I’m sure annon as well.

I hope I didn’t hurt anyone, that was not my intention.

Earenwen 🌿

Good night,

With this I have a question,

Why fiction with Chubby/Plus size reader do less views or likes than "normal".

Because we who are bigger, we don’t really have any choice in the fictions, we read them even if it is frustrating to read that the reader is thin or when it is said "neutral" and no, there is always one or the other thing that denotes. But good.

...

I should stop comparing myself to others because of the number of views, when you have people who have hundreds of likes while they have posted more recently than you and you don’t have a quarter of their like when you write "Chubby reader" it’s complicated with self-confidence.

I don’t necessarily want more like it’s just frustrating, afterwards I don’t write masterpieces, English is not my mother tongue so it doesn’t help. Lack of social contact also has to play a role, we are on social networks and yet it is radio silence, not for all, some must have more luck with it. But hey.

It’s just frustrating, having to beg for a comment, to see if what you write is correct or not, it’s not really… How to say… Easy, it’s even embarrassing.

Oh you who kindly answered my pm, thank you very much.

So here we are, almost three in the morning after two nights in lack off sleep due to high temperatures, due to a heat wave passing the country.

And to all those who have read so far, I say good night ✨

Earenwen 🌿

(I feel like I wouldn’t have an answer, but well, if you want to give your opinion, you can leave it in comment or anonymously or in pm)

Come a little bit closer.

pt.1

summary: When your dear friend Otto Octavius invited you for a regular cup of coffee and a chat, you never imagined it would end up being something more. warnings: none in this part, but the next one is 🍋 requested by: @politicstanner So uhh... It's not exactly followed your request, so if you want me to write another work that will be more fluffy, message me! Hope you like it anyway and sorry in advance. wc: 1.2k A/N: Can be read as post-NWH Otto or just alternative reality to Spider-Man 2 Woo-hoo! It’s already 326 followers here! I can’t believe it guys, love you all! ♥ Thank you for reading my works!

Today, Otto invited you to his flat to catch up after another week of hard work on another genius project of his. You have been friends for many years now, and it has become a common occurrence for you to meet from time to time to check in on each other. You would often just sit and talk, telling stories about your life, sharing your thoughts and plans for the future. You seemed to never bore one another, being able to find subjects to talk about for hours, almost literally about anything and everything.

Sometimes, if you were exceptionally lucky and Octavius was in this compliant mood, you were able to coax him into doing a movie marathon. But it is a very rare occasion. After all, he was still a freshly redeemed supervillain, and as a capable and promising scientist, one of the terms of his freedom ordeal was the job of creating technical marvels for society’s benefit and development. It was a demanding job, but the older man seemed to enjoy it, even under pretty strict government control. He wanted it. He wanted to be a better person; he wanted to create a better future; he wanted, no, needed to be useful to benefit the world he nearly destroyed because of his pride that overshadowed his brilliant mind.

He swore to never return to this mindset again; to do anything in his power, and even beyond that, to prevent this kind of catastrophe. At least until the day he died. And he kept his word. He was a good man, and that was one of the traits that made you fall in love with him.

And currently, sitting in his warm kitchen, nursing the cup of already cold coffee in your equally cold hands, you tried very hard to stay focused and listen to what he was saying, but were failing miserably. Otto was explaining to you his current experiment with microtechnology (or something along the line, you were not sure about the exact name of it, and at this point you were too scared to ask) and how useful it could be. He said it was the future. A revolution.

His human arms were moving animatedly, expressing the emotions he felt and couldn’t verbalise fully with his voice and words. His fingers danced in the air, drawing bizarre patterns with the grace of a ballet dancer. His metallic arms acted in the same manner, moving rapidly around the small room, almost knocking over a kettle that was a bit too close to the edge of the stove and a cup of Otto’s beverage.

His round face was radiating with excitement, cheeks dusted with a faint pink, making his feature glow. A huge, proud, and enthusiastic smile did not leave his lips for a second, stretching them wildly. It’s been a long time since you last saw him like this. Happy and joyful. So free and open. You knew that at this moment, his exceptional mind was racing with all of these new ideas he had yet to try out, and his heart was full of hope about the better future that he could provide. You know him too well by now.

He truly was a vision, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from this beautiful, intelligent, and very passionate man in front of you. Being so enamoured with him, you failed to hear him calling for you. Only when his smile faltered, turning into a slightly confusional frown, did you stir, like waking up from your dreamy state.

You cleared your throat and blinked a couple of times, trying to cover up your embarrassment and dig out from your clouded brain at least some of the words he said for the last hour. The blood rushed to your cheeks, making your face grow extremely hot.

"What? Sorry, I… Uhh"

A smile left Otto’s face entirely, and a shameful scowl took its place.

"No, no, Y/n, my dear, no need to apologise. I am the one who should be apologising. I must be boring you with all of this nonsense, talking for hours… But you have to forgive this little sin to an old man, I haven’t had an audience in quite a long time. It must be my long-forgotten professor's side letting me know that it's still somewhere deep inside of m-"

"No!" You interrupted him, and your voice sounded way louder than you intended, bouncing off the walls right into your ears.

You cringed internally and continued to speak, trying desperately to come up with an excuse for your absent attention, "No, Otto, you’re not boring me at all! I love listening to you! I really do. You know it. It’s just… you know how little I understand about maths and physics. And all these numbers and reactions, it’s nothing but magic for me, you know."

You gave him a sheepish smile and cleared your throat again. The older man relaxed noticeably after your little confession and chuckled understandingly.

"Ah, I see. Well, maybe I could simplify it a little bit?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and the tension in your body melted away in relief.

"Yeah, it would be awesome. Think of me as one of your dumbest students. Professor Octavius."

You did not know what kind of strange force possessed you at this very moment, but you did not question your choice of words and the audacity to give him a playful wink, until you saw his eyebrows go up and his cheeks turn two shades darker. He averted his eyes for a moment and coughed into his hand. You were ready to run away for good with the crushing embarrassment of your foolish behaviour, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow you, but were stopped by a small grin crooking the side of his mouth.

He shook his head slightly, as if not believing in what you just did or maybe shaking away some of his own thoughts, and chuckled lightly.

"Very well, then, my dear student."

The sudden change in his tone, now just an octave deeper and with a touch of rasp that could have been missed if you hadn’t listened to his voice so intently, sent a delightful shiver down your spine. When his soft brown eyes bore into yours all of a sudden, you make the greatest effort to control your body from shaking visibly.

After this short moment of… something, you were not entirely sure what to call everything that happened in these few seconds or if any of this was not your overly-vivid imagination. Everything went back to normal again. Or almost everything. The man before you was still the same old Otto you knew, still an excited scientist happy to share his knowledge with anyone who would listen. He was still a man proud of his intelligence and work, but you could sense that something in the air between you shifted just slightly.

His eyes darkened just enough to turn the soft brown into burnt umber. His lips curled just enough to make his smile look just a little more sinister. His body drew closer, shortening the distance between you just enough for you to catch on to his cologne.

Maybe it was just your wishful thinking, that hidden desire you had for the older man who captured you with his kind words and bright mind, like a spider would capture a fly in his web. You never let your feelings out, tucking them in so deep that you sometimes forget that what you felt was a little bit more than just simple admiration. And now, when his eyes were travelling up and down your body, almost as if he was studying you, taking in any subtle change in your body language, you finally remembered.

These heavy gates of social norms and fears of your anxious mind, which were holding in your darkest fantasies and deepest desires, finally opened.

And you were afraid of what was behind those barricades.

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The Duke seducing you headcanons.

requested by anon Happy new year everyone! ♥

When he started to notice you, for the beauty of both your body and mind, he wouldn’t do anything at first. The Duke would wait and pay close attention to your words and reactions to him.

But when he’s sure that you are at least a little interested in him, even if it's just a curiosity. Then the game begins.

He starts with simple, yet just slightly flirtatious, compliments.

"Ah, if it isn’t my favorite customer. Our little chats never fail to brighten up the gloomiest of days."

"Trying a new colour? Yes, it suits you wonderfully."

"You look radiant today, my dear."

His words are sweet like honey, and his voice is softer than a pillow, and it makes your face and body hot. And the Duke perfectly knows what an effect he has on you already.

Then he starts to give you some extra things on top of your usual purchase.

A little postcard from another country, a small trinket, a pair of warm socks. When you try to pay for it, he only waves his hand dismissively and says it’s just "a part of his first-class customer service".

He takes his time speaking with you. He even tries to prolong your meetings by telling you stories about anything and everything.

He told you about the origin of the village you live in, about the lords that rule your people, and about the world around you that you’re now forbidden to explore. and even shared some information about himself.

Being so cut out from the world, you listened to him with the same greed of a lost wanderer that found an ounce of water in the desert.

Within a matter of a couple of months, he had you wrapped around his finger.

But it was not enough for what he had in mind for you. He needed to charm you completely.

His fingers would brush against yours when he passed you your purchase while he gave you a cheeky wink.

His palm would stay on yours for just a second longer than usual.

He would slowly shorten the distance between you with each passing day.

Your meetings started to feel more intimate, more personal. And before you knew it, you had developed feelings for the Duke.

He was pleased when he noticed that you started to initiate conversations.

You were the one speaking now, telling him all about your life and thoughts and dreams.

You were talking with him late into the night without being afraid of wasting his time anymore.

You touched him first and didn’t fret about his touches.

You responded to his now more suggestive comments with your own.

And when one day you asked him to lower his face to your level to plant a goodbye kiss on his cheek, he knew that he finally had you all to himself.

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Revealing your secret identity to Otto Octavius and confessing your feelings headcanons.

requested by @mariaolayalopez and @politicstanner part 2 of Otto Octavius having a crush on you, his coworker and secret vigilante

Being the smart man he is, Octavius came to the conclusion that it was not safe to leave you in your workplace unconscious and still in your (pretty bloody) superhero costume. So Octavius drove you to his place.

When you finally woke up, you let out a groan. Every inch of your body ached, your insides appeared to be twisted, and the pounding in your head became more intense with each passing second.

You tried to move but stopped when you heard a gentle voice near you, not louder than a whisper, "Shh. Easy, darling, you’re still weak."

When you finally had the strength to open your eyelids, you saw the owner of the voice and nearly cried in relief. You croaked his name and tried to reach him, but he quickly captured your hand in his bigger paws and gently squeezed it.

Otto gave you a cup of water and helped you sit up. You greedily drank the water while your mind was racing with all the thoughts and explanations that you could give him.

The moment you opened your mouth again, Otto raised his hand and shook his head. He told you that he suspected that you had some kind of double life going on, but never imagined that you would be a vigilante.

He softly scolded you about the dangers of this job, and you clearly saw that he was hurt that you did not trust him enough to tell everything. But it was a conversation for later.

He let you take a shower and bandaged and sewed up all the wounds. (Which was a little awkward because you never wore anything more revealing than at least a t-shirt and jeans in his present before.)

While he tended to your wounds, you told him everything. Your whole story of how you got into all of this nonsense in the first place, and the only reason you stayed,

"I wanted to quit, you know. Before I started to work at Oscorp. But then I met you and… I knew I could not let the bad guys win. Spider-Man is good, but he’s not enough to keep all of them at bay. So I continued. I wanted to make this city safer. I want you to be safe."

"Even if you die in the process?!"

"It’s worth it. "You're worth it."

He looked at you with such pain you had never seen in his eyes before. His eyes were filled with tears. When he spoke, his voice trembled with all the unspoken emotions.

"But I… I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you, Y/n."

"And I can’t lose you, Otto. I love you."

In your state, you didn’t even register the confession that spilled from your lips, and after a painfully long minute of stunted silence, you finally realized what you said.

You didn’t have the time to say anything, to save your pride if the feelings weren’t mutual. Octavius cupped your cheek gently and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

When he finally connected your lips, you couldn't hold back the tears. When you finally broke the kiss to get some air, he scooped you into his arms.

He stroked your hair with trembling fingers and whispered right into your ear:

"I love you too, you silly thing."

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Humphrey courting you and taking you on a first date headcanons.

requested by two anons

🕯 Humphrey was extremely nervous about confessing his feelings to you. He was afraid of the possibility that your heart did not hold the same affection he had had for you.

🕯 And if that were true, things could get awkward between the two of you for at least a few years.

🕯 It would be easier if you were alive. He could send you away or run off himself, but you were both dead and forever stuck in the same mansion without a way to escape one another.

🕯 He treasured you dearly and thus couldn’t fathom losing you, your friendship and trust.

🕯 It took him literally months to master up the courage (with help from other ghosts practically screaming in his face all of the signals you gave him that you were indeed interested in him) to finally take action.

🕯 He tried to be slow and not just spill all of his feelings to you out of blue, too afraid to scare you away.

🕯 Sadly, his and your condition limited the ways he could properly court you.

🕯 In the old days, he would give you horses, jewelry, flowers, and even land to win your hand. But now all he could do was talk.

🕯 He was thinking about asking for help from Alison, but decided against it. He was capable of charming you on his own, even if limited in actions.

🕯 He began with small gestures: flattering compliments and slightly cheesy nicknames; poems and poetry that he could still quote; and increasing familiarity with touches.

🕯 And even if you were unsure of Humphrey’s intentions before, after a few weeks of his active (but never aggressive) courtship, you came to realize the meaning behind his action.

🕯 And once you were sure that he was indeed courting you and was not just being overly-friendly, you couldn’t contain your emotions and straight up asked him out on a proper date.

🕯 He couldn’t be more happy to learn that his feelings were mutual and nearly kissed you right on the spot, but stopped himself and placed a modest kiss on the back of your hand.

🕯 You gave him the choice of location for your date, and he settled on the lake near the mansion.

🕯 Now Humphrey was ready to ask for help.

🕯 And sympathetic Alison (who, of course, was aware of your feelings for the man and didn’t pass up a chance to tease you about it) gladly helped with anything she could.

🕯 (Mike was confused about all of these activities, but after an explanation, he calmed down but whined a little that he couldn’t do or even see anything.)

🕯 When you finally arrived at the location (and what a funny walk it was; the poor man tried to make it a surprise for you and covered your eyes with his hands, but since his head was not attached to his body very steadily, it nearly fell a couple of times. So after you almost tripped over for the third time, he gave up and made you swear to not open your eyes until you reached your destination), you couldn’t help but gasp.

🕯 Admittedly, it was nothing fancy, just an old blanket laying on the ground near the lake, with a bottle of beer (It was the only thing Alison could get, and it wasn’t like you could drink anyway) and a fruit basket sat in the middle, and a small bouquet of wildflowers.

🕯 But to you, it was the most beautiful and romantic image you’ve ever seen.

🕯 You helped Humphrey sit and snuggled by his side, happily enjoying the view and his company.

🕯 You talked for hours, watching the sun going down slowly, basking in the feelings and love.

🕯 After the sun disappeared into the water and the skies darkened, you turned to him. You gazed deeply into his beautiful blue eyes, hoping he could feel everything you felt at the moment but couldn’t express.

🕯 He smiled softly, and by the look on his face, you knew that he did. He felt the same.

🕯 Finally, you leaned in and your lips met in a gentle kiss, the first of many.

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Imagine the Duke reassuring you he loves you when you're feeling down

requested by anon it turned out waaay longer than an imagine, but eh, i love him

It was just one of those days when everything felt wrong and your self-esteem dropped to the lowest level. Most of the time, you loved yourself and were happy with your body, but today you couldn’t look at the mirror without cringing at your reflection.

Your clothes were too tight, outlining your tummy rolls even more than usual. Your arms and thighs felt too big, your body too heavy, your face too round. Everything you previously saw as exceptional now seems repulsive. You were on the verge of tears when you heard the heavy footsteps of your partner, the village’s mysterious merchant, just behind the walls of your shared bedroom in his house.

Then the door opened with a loud creak.

"There you are, my dear. Were you hiding from me, hmm?"

His tone was light and slightly teasing, as always, and with a touch of gentleness that he only addressed to you.

Sitting stiff on the edge of your bed, you did not show any sign that you had heard his question. It was rather unusual for you to not even acknowledge his presence, and the Duke instantly sensed that something was off. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it yet, but now he was determined to know the reason for your rather odd behavior.

"Won't you even look at me now? Is this another game of yours, little one?"

When his large palm came down on your shoulder, all of your emotions that were bubbling inside you the whole day came out like a volcanic eruption. You sobbed loudly and buried your face in your hands.

"My, my!" He murmured quietly, his voice leaking with concern. He sat his body on the bed, saving a little room between your bodies in case you did not want to be touched. "Now what is the matter, my dearest?"

You wanted to explain, but your throat tightened, preventing the words from coming out. The tears were streaming down your face like a waterfall. Blindly, you reached for his hand and squeezed it, letting him know that you wanted to talk, but needed some time. After what felt like hours, you finally calmed down and explained your reaction.

"Ah, I see what the problem is now." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I’ve lived in this world for many years, long before you were born, and have seen enough to understand one thing: beauty truly is in the eyes of the beholder. And humans are among the most beautiful creatures, but not for their physical appearance. The beauty, the real one, lies far deeper than what one or other culture sees as the modern definition of perfection."

The merchant cupped your face lovingly and lowered his face to get a better look at your tear-stained face. He wanted you to see his eyes and feel the love he had for you.

"What one might think of as flaws," he whispered sensually against your cheek, "others find beautiful. And you are, mon cœur, have the most unique beauty and it takes my breath away every time I look at you, feel you, think of you."

Deep inside, you knew he was telling the truth. Most days, you believed him when he said he loved you, body and soul equally. But right at this moment, your mind couldn’t hear the honesty in the Duke’s voice, twisting it into pity. And the Duke was having none of it.

He put his meaty index finger under your chin and lifted your face up to meet his eyes. He closed the distance so that his lips were only an inch away from yours.

"You don’t have to trust my words, that’s true. As they say, actions speak louder."

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Headcanons teaching Pat new dance moves.

requested by 😱 I decided to go with Pat because he’s my favorite (you should not give me a choice like this, I will choose my little meow meow over anyone every time lol) Also, I don’t dance like ever, so I had to google some information about dances. Hope you like it, dear Ghosts anon!

🏹 If someone told you a few months ago that ghosts are real, you would have laughed.

🏹 But life is a cheeky thing, and after an accident and a week in a coma, you started to see them. Everywhere. With time, you learned to ignore them, and most of the time, it wasn’t that hard as the dead didn’t expect anyone to see them anyway.

🏹 When you came to Alison and Mike’s house, you were determined to keep your secret. But you were not prepared for the ghosts in their house to be so… lively.

🏹 They were extremely active, talkative, and even loud. And within ten minutes of the conversation, you became aware that you were not the only one who could see dead people.

🏹 The ghosts talked to Alison and were curious about the new person. And when you heard her mumbling a response to one of them, you couldn’t hide your excitement. You were not alone. You were not crazy after all!

🏹 And as much as Alison was happy to see you, she was even happier to get the ghosts off her tail and have some alone time.

🏹 So just like that, you were left with a bunch of curious and excited people. They ask you a ton of questions about yourself and the world. And told you about their life.

🏹 Out of everyone else, you connected with Pat the most. He was a scout leader before, and seemed to continue to be one even after his death. So most of the activities were on him.

🏹 When you asked what they planned on doing today, he told you about dance classes. But when they showed you what they’d learned, you realized it was all… well, old-fashioned.

🏹 So you decided to teach Pat new moves, and since he was a teacher to others, you settled on a private session (which, of course, didn’t stop some of the ghosts from sneaking on you and watching through the walls).

🏹 You turned on the music (and the way Pat popped his eyes and breathed out a loud "Oh! Love it…" made you snort and melt your heart at the same time) and stood in the position.

🏹 You decided to start with something simple, so the first move was "The Dougie", basically just a simple two-step shift but with some shoulder movements. Then there were a couple more like them, adding hip moves and hands.

"Now this one is called "The Humpty". It’s not that hard, but slightly more physical. You have to jump."

"Ohh!"

Pat was watching you so intently, like you were teaching rocket science, not some dance move that no one even judged since most of the people in the house didn’t even know about them.

"So, you start with your legs apart like that,"

"Then you have to circle your hips to one side and bend your knees."

"Uh huh…"

"And then jump and cross your legs,"

"Wow!"

"Yeah like that. And then jump back to your original position. You can add in a windmill motion with your arms, or just something alike. Like you’re holding two walls."

"Amazing!"

🏹 He learned pretty quickly, and his little sounds of excitement and praise motivated you even more. But when you were thinking about the next interesting dance move, Alison came back.

🏹 You stopped your lesson to catch up with a seemingly more relaxed friend, and then it was time to bid your farewell.

🏹 The ghosts were objecting, with Pat the loudest of all. But you had a long road ahead of you, so even when Alison tried to convince you to stay even one night, you declined her offer.

"Hey, maybe next time I can teach you "The Billy Bounce"?" Pat’s face lit up in wonder at your suggestion.

"Oh, what’s that?"

When you showed him the movements, he let out a strange sound and popped his eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, his voice quiet and full of doubt.

"I don’t think I can do that. Or anyone else. It’s like your legs are boneless…"

🏹 You only laughed and reassured him that it was easier than it looked.

🏹 After you left, the whole group bombarded Alison with questions about you and tried to convince her to let you live in the house. 🏹 She was starting to think about it when she felt a headache creeping slowly from all of the noises. It was nice to have someone else to entertain the ghosts for a change.

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A Better Family

platonic! Ghosts x reader

summary: You just died and ghosts of the Button’s house try to comfort you and help to cope with your death.

warnings: mention of poisoning, betrayal and death.

requested by: 😱 Ghosts anon

A/N: kinda angst, found family trope. Hope you like it!

The first thing you felt was cold. It dug into your body like a million needles. It reminded you of the time when you went ice skating with your sisters when you were little. It was an early winter, and the lake near your mansion was not frozen enough to withstand your weight for too long, but you were too eager to spend time with your sisters and ignored all of the warnings. And predictably, after a few minutes of fun, the ice under your feet broke and you fell into the freezing water.

The feeling is much the same now. You felt like your body was slowly sinking deeper and deeper into the icy winter river, and the water consumed you, drugging you to the muddy bottom. But unlike the feelings in your memory, this time it was not unpleasant. The coldness brings you calm. But the moment your back touched the bed of it, your body was forcefully pulled back onto the surface.

"Such viciousness in my house!" You’ve heard someone’s voice above you. It sounded feminine and very angry. You wanted to open your eyes, but your eyelids felt so heavy, like they were glued together.

"Poor thing. At such a young age…" Another voice, now more concerned and masculine, even if a bit high.

Alright, you can do it. Just open your eyes.

"Do you think she’ll stay? I don’t want her to go. We could be friends!"

A very high and too cheerful voice, yet another one you couldn’t recognize. You thought it was just you and your sister in the house. Your sister. Now that you were thinking about her, you wondered where she was. And what happened. The last thing you remembered was that you were having tea and then…"

Yeah, a new face could be nice. Not that I’m tired of any of you, but you know…"

Finally, you opened your eyes and the voices gasped from such abrupt action. You set up and saw eight pairs of eyes looking at you. Almost all of them had a weird expression that you couldn’t pinpoint just yet. Their clothes were weird-looking, like some of them came from the past centuries. Then there was a man without pants, but at least he was wearing half of the suit from modern times. What a strange party.

"Who are you?"

The first and most logical question to ask a bunch of strangers that were in your house for some reason.

They shared a look, pointing at each other and shaking their heads, as if none of them wanted to talk to you. It was rude, considering they somehow sneaked into your house uninvited. Finally, the short man in the scoutmaster's uniform and a bow in his neck (what the hell?) stepped out. His voice was quiet and full of sadness when he spoke.

"We are the ghosts of this house, my dear. My name is Patrick Butcher, but you can call me Pat. This is Lady Fanny Button, the old owner and your great, great…"

Pain. You felt pain after the third sip of your tea. Your throat was burning, and your stomach, too. You tried to scream and cry for help, but no sounds came out of your mouth. You threw your body at your sister, clutching on to her t-shirt for dear life, wishing nothing more than to end this suffering. The last thing you remembered was a white hot pain consuming your body. And a crooked smile on your sister’s face.

Oh.

While the nice man was introducing the ghosts (now it made more sense) of the house, you slowly stood up. There was an odd feeling in your body. A perplexing lightness. But you did not feel the clothes you were wearing or the floor under your feet. You knew it was there, but you couldn’t feel it. You, too, were just there.

"And you are… well, uh, how should I put it? Ah, bugger, there is no other way to say it. You’re dead."

"Patrick!" The older lady (your great, great grandmother if you remember right) scolded the man. "For goodness sake! This is a highly delicate matter, you can’t just say it."

Slowly, you turn around to look at the spot where you were lying minutes ago. And saw yourself, or what was left of you, still lying there. Now that was beyond crazy. You stared at your own body, now lifeless and cold, lying on the floor of the house you never even called home. And now you are stuck here forever. With strangers around, a broken heart that couldn’t comprehend the betrayal of their own blood.

The next few days were like a slumber. The ghosts explained to you that now you couldn’t touch anything, couldn’t feel anything but other fellow ghosts and were indeed stuck in this house for forever. Or until you finish your unfinished business. If only you knew what you had not finished, other than living a long and happy life.

With time (and great help from all of the members of the house), your grief and misery turned to acceptance and even joy. You found a new sister that actually loved you and was happy to spend time with you; a bunch of weird uncles and an aunty that were just as happy to talk to you (even if some of them were a bit dramatic at times); and a loving, even if a bit strict, grandmother.

They helped you cope with your death and find a new afterlife. And after your sister and mother died, one very interesting and very much alive couple moved in, causing a great fuss among the members of your new family.

Maybe your death wasn’t such an awful event after all.

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Otto Octavius having a crush on you, his coworker and secret vigilante, headcanons.

requested by anon Part 2

When you started to work at Oscorp Industries, you never meant to fall in love with anyone, let alone with your coworker.

You highly valued both of your lives, as a scientist and as a vigilante, and spent nearly all of your time in the labs and on the street rather than at home.

But when you met Otto Octavius, you just couldn't help it. He was just so sweet, and kind, and smart… And his unrivaled intelligence and desire to make the world a better place quickly won your heart.

But you couldn’t let your little silly crush ruin your career and endanger his life, so you stayed silent even when the man himself started to be more and more friendly with you.

What you didn’t know is that Otto was slowly developing feelings for you as well.

He was even more hesitant to confess his progressively growing feelings for you.

Somehow, he got the impression that you weren’t interested in him romantically. And after he convinced himself that you would never be, against his own beliefs, he bottled up these feelings and went with the role of your friend.

And Otto was the best friend one could ever ask for.

He always asks about your day and listens to your ramblings.

He remembered every small detail you told him about yourself, from your favorite color to the worst day of high school.

He made sure you were taking care of yourself and getting enough sleep.

After six months, he fell so deeply in love with you that he was so sure, if he had an artist's talent, he would draw your face without a sketch, just from his memory.

You started to spend more time together and late evenings in the laboratory turned into small friendly dates in the nearby cafes and then moved to his or yours apartments.

You did not notice when you became so comfortable around each other that you started to get touchy-feely. It wasn't until one of your friends pointed it out that you realized how close you two had become.

But even if you started to notice the change in his demeanor around you, you didn’t have the guts to act on it.

And as if you haven't had enough on your plate, a new crazy villain has appeared in NYC, wreaking havoc and killing civilians.

Your second life was consuming your nights more and more, and it was taking a toll on your ability to do your job as a process engineer.

Otto paid close attention to the changes in you, but didn’t say anything until one day you fell asleep (read as fainted) on your desk in the middle of the day.

You promised him that it was nothing, that you were just tired, but the bruises on your arms and chin (and even neck) did nothing to convince him that it ‘was nothing’.

You wanted to tell him, seeing how the state of your body and mind pained him, how much he wanted to help and find out what was going on with you.

But your secret identity already had a long list of enemies. You were not so selfish to endanger the only man you loved.

And you were determined to keep this part of your life secret until the dying day, but life (or rather, the Goblin) had other plans.

You found out through Spidey that this monster planted a set of bombs in the orphanage near the ministry.

It took two hours to transport children and workers to a safe place and defuse all of the bombs. Or so you thought.

When Spider-Man was ready to fly away, the Goblin made an appearance.

He did not give you even a moment to rest, attacking you furiously and without an ounce of pity.

You have never faced these kinds of villains before. The force and rage behind his blows and punches scared you, maybe for the first time in years.

But most of all, it exhausted you. Even when you had Spider-Man by your side, it was not enough to defeat the insane maniac.

When your body was ready to fall, you heard manic laughter and felt a pair of strong hands pulling you away.

Then the ground where you stood just a second ago exploded, and the world disappeared.

When you opened your eyes again, it was quiet. There was no Goblin or Spider-Man around, only dust and dirt.

You almost literally crawled to the labs. After a short internal debate, you came to the conclusion that it was a much shorter way than the one to your house.

Here you could take a shower, change your clothes, and even use a medkit. A luxury you did not have at home. If you’re lucky enough, maybe you will find something to eat.

But the moment the doors of the large elevator opened, you already knew you wouldn't make it to the locker room.

You could barely move your feet. Exhaustion and loss of blood were making it hard to breathe and stay conscious.

When you opened the door to your office, you heard a familiar voice.

In this wrecked state, you didn’t even question his presence in your office this late at night.

He didn’t recognize you in your costume and mask. He frowned. Confusion and concern were written all over his face. His face… You thought it was the most beautiful face you had ever seen.

He was a vision. He must be. Why else would he be in your office when you needed him the most?

Finally, after what felt like hours, but probably didn't take more than a few seconds, his brain connected all the dots.

"Yn?"

He couldn’t believe it. The person he loved the most, his fellow scientist and dear colleague, was one of the most famous vigilantes.

He opened his mouth, but he had no time to ask whatever it was on his mind.

With his name on your lips, you collapse right into his strong arms.

masterlist | request rules

Having soul-restoring powers and challenging Amara headcanons.

requested by@gabrielasilva1510

Amara is not known for her calm, especially at the beginning of her (well, technically second) existence.

You are one of the eldest creatures in this world. But in comparison to God and his sister, you are "the youngest child in the family."

And this is how Amara saw you: a child. A foolish, attention-seeking, and bothering child.

But this time, it was her who needed guidance.

When you first met the Winchesters and they learned what you were, they were terrified, to say the least. Another God to fight, they feared, but it was far from the truth.

The truth was that you loved humans. If we continue the family parallel here, humanity is like a bunch of nieces and nephews in your mind. And you tried to help them as much as you could.

So when the news of the Darkness’s release reached your ears, you were happy. Maybe this time you can do this right. Maybe this time you can be a family.

But soon you realized it was nothing but a hopeless dream.

When you met your sister’s first victim, you wanted to cry. It was nothing but a soulless vessel, shallow and empty. So, after millennias of hiding, you decided to intervene.

You knew that part of it was Chuck’s fault, but you knew better than to confront him alone.

You let out a few tears when you restored your first soul. It was a lot more painful than consuming them. Every time you had to "sew" a broken essence with a small part of your own.

You knew that Amara felt everything. You were sucking her dinner right out of her, and it was just as painful for her as it was for you.

And in this moment, you felt her anger like it was your own. She fumed that some little creature like you could steal away what was hers by the right of her very being.

But you knew that she could learn about the world in another way. In a better way. Consuming knowledge, not other beings.

The waves of the rage of a dark god reached you faster than you anticipated.

When you finally met, after many days and souls, you tried to reason with her. You were hopeful that if you found the right words, you could convince her to stop.

But at the beginning, it was a lost cause.

You fought, and by the end of round one, you were exhausted. She just reborned, fresh out of the womb, and even with the few souls that she managed to absorb, she was stronger than you.

You fell to the ground, and Amara stopped. She said she pitied you and warned you not to stand in her way before she left.

But neither you nor your new friends were ready to let her win, so you continued to find the poor soulless people and fix the horrors that Amara did to them.

It was a circle of fight-retreat-restore a soul-and fight again. A routine you fall into all too quickly.

And it hurt both of you.

Even though the Darkness didn’t want to admit it, after some time, she was not fighting you that hard anymore.

Her blows wickened, and her wards softened. And the look of rage in her eyes changed into one of hurt and betrayal.

"How can you stand against me?!" She screamed and cried, but your answer was always the same.

"We can find another way."

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Imagine The Duke punishing you for being a brat all day.

requested by anon warnings: NSFW! spanking.

"So you decided to be a bad little thing today, yes?"

His honey-like voice is thick with arousal yet still soft, even if teasing. The moment the last customer of today bought their desired item, the Duke shut the doors of the cart and pulled you over his lap.

You were testing him all day, flirting with him in front of the villagers, touching him, giving him bedroom eyes, and not giving a damn about what they could think. You had been his apprentice for a year now, and the people of the village were used to your overly-friendly interactions and somewhat playful banter even when no one else was given such privilege. But none of them expected their merchant to be involved in such... activities.

The Duke ran his meaty fingers along your bottom, which now were on full display before him, drawing obscure figures on the delicate skin."

Answer me, my dear." He pinched your rear unexpectedly with a hint of warning, and you moaned.

"Yes, sir. I’ve been bad today."

He let out a dark chuckle, and his palm landed on your butt with a loud slap. You sucked in a breath. The sting of an already forming bruise on your bosom made your lower belly warm. The merchant gently patted your cheek soothingly. You suppressed a delighted sigh. You knew better than to show him that you were enjoying the supposed punishment a little bit too much.

"Bad pets need to be punished, don’t you agree? I think ten is a fair price."

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Just The Two Of Us

Crowley x plus size goth female reader

summary: You’re going on the first date with the King of Hell.

warnings: none

requested by: @fat-bottom-demons

A/N: It's a bit short, but I hope you like it :)

You checked yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time in the past hour. You smoothed the wrinkles on your dress (again) and adjusted the corset (again) so it would bring out your breasts more. You looked over your makeup critically, searching for the faults or smears of your nervous fidgeting, and were relieved to find none. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. You felt perfect.

In all honesty, you have never felt this confident about going on a first date before. Some of the first dates were awful, and sometimes people didn’t understand your set of mind or didn't like the way you looked. Which was… not so assuring and definitely didn’t add to the desire to repeat these kinds of dreadful meetings.

Despite his demonic nature, Crowley was nothing but a gentleman towards you, unlike some of your previous dates. He never said a bad word about your style, or your look, or even the sometimes melancholic thoughts that you shared with him. He adored your ability to find joy in something that others find gruesome. He was charmed that you could find beauty in death. On your second meeting, he told you right away that he was smitten by your beauty and found you the most interesting creature of all. It was no secret that a demon thought of others as plebeians, both human and demon alike, not even mentioning other creatures. But you…

He gladly and eagerly embraced your unique character, both in soul and body. He treated you like you were royalty from the very start, and it only took him a few witty remarks and a couple of charming smiles to melt your heart. He couldn’t help but delight in your curiosity when you learned of his supernatural origin.

You were one of the very few beings who were interested in him, demon and all, and didn’t try to change the way he was. And probably the first one who was curious about the insides of his work and plans for Hell without a second goal.

One night, after a cup or two, he came to the realization that you would look much better sitting on the throne beside him than in the cheap, uncomfortable chair in your pathetic place of work. And that’s how you found yourself being asked out by the king of hell.

You sighed, remembering the huge bouquet of black roses he gave you that day, along with the gorgeous (and insanely expensive looking) necklace with obsidians that now adorned your neck. The tips of your fingers gently touched one of the stones that found rest in the cleavage between your breasts, and a delicate smile formed on your ruby lips.

"You look absolutely ravishing, my Queen."

Crowley’s deep rumble startled you and nearly made you jump, but his hands quickly snaked around your form, locking you in a demon's embrace and calming your rapidly beating heart. He was wearing a deep black suit, matching your own dress, with a red tie to complement the color of your lipstick.

"Hey. You’re not bad looking yourself, your majesty."

He turned you in his arms, so he could look at your face, and now you could see the burning desire behind his eyes more clearly. It sent a delightful shiver down your spine, and you leaned into his body even more. It earned a proud chuckle from him. The sound of his delight made your cheeks warm.

He gave your lips a short peck and you struggled to suppress an unsatisfied whine from the lack of so much wanted contact, but still managed to not let out a sound. You will have time for this, no need to be a brat this early.

With a warning, he teleported you to the location of your date, and you were surprised to find yourself in a huge hall inside of what looked like an ancient castle.

In the middle of a room stood a massive table. You couldn’t place the type of wood, but it was clear that even though the piece of furniture looked great, it was very old. There were plates and two sets of cutlery on the surface of the table, along with a rich selection of dishes and a bottle of your favorite alcohol.

Crowley led you to your seat, pulled out a chair for you like a gentleman, and took his own seat on the opposite end. He poured your drinks and raised a fancy-shaped crystal glass.

"To you, my darling. And to the new beginning."

You smiled and nodded, but couldn’t help but add to his toast.

"To us."

He gave you a charming smirk, clicking your glasses, and his eyes were full of unspoken desire and promises. It sets your body on fire.

"To us."

masterlist | request rules

Imagine in a battle with Doc Ock your suit rips and explores your underwear. It makes Octavius distracted and even angers him until he realizes you’re unaware of what happened.

requested by @maraudermap000

You were breathless and sweaty. Every muscle burned beneath your skin, and your bruises and cuts hurt and bled, slowing your movements.Your blows were getting sloppier, and you knew it was just a matter of time before he caught you. But you were not going to let the supervillain (no matter how handsome you found him) know you were tired.

You try to gather all your strength for the next punch (if only it could wipe this maddening grin off his face), but the fight has lasted for a few hours already and you’re drained. At moments like this, you envied Spider-Man’s powers. If only you could shoot a web and fly away from this already. Just a few seconds would be enough, honestly. But you had no such privilege, and that’s why you missed your punch. Your fist met the wall with such force that you aimed at the older man’s face, and the anger made you cry out.

The frustration makes your body stop for a second, but your tired brain is too slow to think of the next move. And this short pause was all that Doc needed. Two upper appendages dug into your suit, breaking the fabric with ease. But before the metal could meet your skin, you managed to wiggle your way out and push the limbs away.

You were already far too gone to feel any pain at the moment, so you didn’t notice the cold metallic claws tearing the material of your suit away from your body. You haven’t felt the cold breeze of evening air on your sweaty and hot skin. You continued to fight like there was no tomorrow, which in this case, might as well be true.

But even if you were clueless about your attire, your opponent was not. At first, his face became unreadable, but at least the smirk was finally gone. Doctor Octopus started to lose his fire, and it both surprised and gave you a new strike of energy. You noticed how his eyes didn’t meet yours anymore and wondered what the hell was going on in that twisted head of his. Did he feel shame all of a sudden? He nearly destroyed a city, a whole world. He was robbing banks and throwing citizens like rag dolls, and he only started to feel something now. Truly, this man was a mystery to you, even after all this time.

All of a sudden, he stopped, and you landed on your back. Ouch!

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

He sounded so angry, like these battles weren't nearly every day on both of your schedules now. You were beyond confused. You opened your mouth to ask him what the hell he meant by that, but he didn’t let you.

"If this is your distraction plan, this is honestly pathetic. Your… harlotry won’t do you any good."

Har… harlotry?? What?!

"Excuse me? What the fuck do you even mean, you madman?"

"Your lack of underwear, darling. Or do you mean to tell me you’re not aware of that? That just proves my words then…"

Shocked by his words, you lowered your gaze to have a look at your body and gasped loudly. Fuck… Now this was embarrassing. Your suit was ruined completely. There was a huge gap in the material all the way from your neck to your left thigh. And it revealed your body. You are covered for the most part, except for the thin line of the thongs under your stomach. Of course you had to wear these things instead of regular pants today, of all days.

You crossed your legs and covered as much skin as you could with your arms and knees. You couldn’t lift your eyes from the ground, silently hoping that he wouldn’t say or do anything… inappropriate. Your face was burning enough already and all you wanted was for the ground to swallow you whole.

You’ve heard the shuffling of clothes and metal and felt something heavy covering your spine like a huge blanket.

"It has holes in the back, but at least your front is covered."

Doctor Octopus’s voice is quiet and almost shy. Finally, you meet his eyes again. Your own embarrassment mirrors his. Alright, you didn’t expect this reaction, but it was nice of him. Very nice. Too nice, given that a few minutes ago he was ready to kill you. Or was he, really?

Suddenly, all of the events of the day crush down on you, and you feel every little scratch on your body, every breeze of air and the sharpness of asphalt under your butt. Your body is exhausted, as is your mind, and all you want is to take a shower and fall dead asleep for the next few days.

Your eyelids feel heavy and you ignore any norms of your relationship with the criminal in front of you and whisper: "Take me home."

masterlist | request rules

Being in relationships with Otto Octavius/Doc Ock headcanons.

📖 Otto Octavius

He is the softest man. Honestly, Otto is literally the human equivalent of a marshmallow.

He can be serious and even stern sometimes, especially at work. But one soft look from you and a smile aimed at him, and he's nothing more than a putty in your hands.

He will absolutely shower you with compliments, kisses, touches, and small and meaningful gifts.

He’s a generous man, be it in the field of affection or gifts. He will never hide from showing his love, both in public and in private.

But if you’re not comfortable with PDA, he’ll be understanding. He would hate to make you uncomfortable in any way, so he’s honestly content with just holding your hand. Anything is alright with him.

As much as he loves you and puts you first, he’s a man of science and his work is very important to him, so occasionally he can be late or even not come home for a few days.

But he will always make it up to you.

Lots of extremely romantic dates. He’s a scientist and proud of his mostly practical mind, but boy is he a huge sap!

And if you organize a date, especially if you buy him something and give him flowers, add a flirty comment or two, and he’s a mess.

He’s almost embarrassed about how hard he blushes from such a simple act, especially at his age, but your kiss can help with that.

Speaking of his age, if there’s an age gap between you, he might feel self-conscious sometimes. But he’s not one to dwell on misery and self destruction. If you say you don’t care about any of this and you love him just the way he is, he’s alright with it, too.

He trusts you.

And because of that, he’s not that jealous if he sees someone flirting with you or just paying you attention. He knows you can handle yourself and is sure of your love.

The only reason he would interfere in the scene is if the person made you uncomfortable.

He is protective a bit, but all in a good way.

If someone disrespects you in any way (even if it’s a member of your family), he will be sure to put the person in their place. calmly and without any hesitation, but with such dominance that it leaves no room (and no desire for that person) for arguments.

He is the best at comforting. He’d make hot chocolate or any beverage of your liking that makes you feel warm, put on your favorite TV show/movie/programm, pull over a weighted blanket, and cuddle you until you feel better. All while giving you kisses and rubbing your arms or back.

If you needed comfort in public, he would lock you in his embrace, practically shielding you from the world. He would make you laugh with light teasing, playful flirting, and funny anecdotes.

Otto would support anything you do, say, or even think. He genuinely enjoys listening to you and all of your ideas and thoughts about all kinds of matters.

And watching you create something… It’s just as marvelous as when you watch him do his things.

Even if you think your work didn’t turn out that well, he’ll honestly think this is a masterpiece.

(If you craft something, he will secretly steal one of your works to put it in his office, along with your photo. It never fails to brighten up his mood, especially so when he’s stuck with something or too tired).

He is a passionate man and loves his work very hard (but not more than you, of course). So he sometimes gets so caught up in it that he forgets to take care of himself.You have to remind him to eat and get enough sleep.

All in all, it's a very healthy relationship when both of you respect each other and love endlessly.

You would be a sickeningly sweet couple!

🐙 Doc Ock

He is a bastard.

He'll flirt and sass his way into anything (and trouble as well), and that’s how he wormed his way into your heart. And into your panties…

This man has no rest whatsoever and won’t let you have it either.

He’s just as dedicated to the work as before, if not more so now.

But he will still always find time for you.

Which means breaking into your house in the middle of the night, giving you no rest before work/classes.

You've ended up late more times than you’re willing to admit, but Doc always tells you not to worry about it. If you struggle with money, he’ll get some. Anything so you'd be happy.

(You had to talk him out of it more times than you’d like, honestly.)

So. Much. Confidence. He’s the definition of this word.

He’s so confident he doesn’t get jealous. He doesn't think you would ever look at someone else when you have him (it’s more because of his ego than his trust in you).

But if some poor idiot chooses to flirt with you in his presence?

His protective side turns possessive, and things go south pretty quickly.

He won’t hesitate and definitely won’t regret punching and strangling this person. Just to teach them a lesson.

You’re his, in every way.

But even if he can be possessive and even slightly aggressive sometimes, he has a strict rule with his tentacles: you’re out of harm's way. You’re untouchable.

He would never forgive himself if he hurt you in any way. Feelings count as well.

He’s so in love with you and so grateful that you stuck with him, even when he’s a monster. He’ll literally kill anyone for you. And if you’re against it, he will settle for pampering you in any way he can.

His life as a criminal doesn’t let you two have public dates as you would before, but you can still have cute home dates.

And it almost always leads to some steamy activity ;)

He’s even less concerned with taking care of himself now, forgetting all about the rest, food, and even showering sometimes.

He would hate it if you babyed him, so you have to find a way for him to accept your care.

Once everything is settled, Otto will officially "introduce" you to his children. At first, you were hesitant to accept them into your life, but with time, you kind of started to like them. (Especially the way they spiced up your personal life.)

He absolutely will manhandle you from time to time, even "kidnapping" you from your work/classes only to drag you on a date.

You’d complain a little and roll your eyes, but his knowing and cocky smirk makes you melt every time without fail.

Spider-man would try to "save" you a couple of times, but when he learns that you’re not a victim of kidnapping, but very much a supervillain's significant other, he’s confused. But he just let you two be.

(Not without a promise from you that if anything happens, you will call for him. It offends Ock, and you have to get him away from the bug-man before he starts to throw fists again)

You know that he would never hurt you. They will never hurt you.

Since the accident, his temper has shortened and he can get angry pretty quickly. If he snaps at you for some reason, he will apologize for his outburst after he cools down and reasons with his children.

(And always make it up to you)

His back and head are in constant pain, as are his eyes. So since he can’t really go shopping, you’re the one who buys the medications (and makes him take them when the pain is unbearable).

He would probably learn how to sew at some point, just to create more clothes that would feel comfortable with his extra limbs.

The actuators are kind of your children now too. They let you pet them and even talk to you, mostly through Doc (but you found a way to understand their chirping and clicking).

They are really great helpers. You even learn their names and try to call them by them so they feel included in your life.

It’s not an ordinary family, and Doc is far from an ordinary man, but it’s the best one you could have asked for.

masterlist | request rules

Imagine Captain coming out to you.

Requested by anon. A/n: it’s my reading of the character and I feel he would not say it easily and freely, given the time he’s from and his closed nature. I tried to do my best. It's too long for imagine I got carried away, sorry. Hope you like it.

Something in his stomach was twisting and turning, making him sick. Deep inside, he knew it was impossible, and yet the feeling was so palpable that he could swear he could throw up at any moment. He was so nervous he almost felt the sweat on his forehead and palms, and even an echo of his long non-beating heart thumping in his throat.

Captain cleared his throat for the umpteenth time in the last few minutes, but still didn’t say a word. His throat felt dry, and the right words weren’t coming. Everything he thought of felt so... not right. Not him. He didn’t meet your eyes either. It was more difficult than he had originally thought.

He wanted to tell you first. That's why he invited you to his room, the only place in the house where he felt at least somewhat safe. And you were the only person (at least within the walls of this house) that he felt truly safe with. Safe to be himself, to openly speak his mind, and even laugh freely.

He cleared his throat once again. Just say it, he thought to himself. Then he took a deep breath.

"So Y/n… You might be wondering what was this important thing I wanted to tell you…"

For the first time in God knows how long, he finally locked his eyes with yours.

"I… Well, after our last group session I was thinking about myself more. It was Alison’s advice, she said it would be good to look inside of me. It will help to know and understand myself better, she said and, quite surprisingly, she was right. I have never told it to anyone. I didn't even have the courage to admit it to myself, but... Well, I guess I always knew this, somewhere deep inside of me. But back in my days this kind of… might we call it preferences. You see, it was forbidden. Even by the laws, and I’m not only speaking of God’s… Though, they say that God loves all of us, but I didn’t… I couldn’t think without a feeling that something must be wrong with me…"

He was rambling at this point, and he still didn’t know how to tell you what he wanted to tell. His hands started to shake. The anxiety crept into his heart again and gripped it with her cold hands, threatening to rip it apart.

"I never acted on my desires. Good Lord, of course not. But it didn't mean... There's a phrase that I remember the pastor said at the wedding of these two girls. I don’t remember their names, but the ceremony was beautiful, and their dresses, in my humble opinion, were very lovely. Well, that's not the point. The words stuck with me and now I understand their true meaning. "Love is beautiful," the pastor said, and now I understand that he was right, and maybe I can,"

"Captain?"

He hasn't heard your soft voice, calling for him. The words fell from his mouth, but he didn’t register the meaning behind them. Why, for God's sake, was it so difficult to just say…

“Maybe I… can finally be myself. Now that the times have changed, I’m coming to the realization that there was nothing wrong in the way I felt…”

"Captain, I… Captain."

"I want to feel... I want to be free. I wanted to tell you, but the words are not coming the right way. I guess you're wondering what is this I want to say, and I wish I could say it, but it's so difficult to find..."

"Captain!"

He stopped, startled by your voice and the sudden touch of your hand on his. He looked up (he didn’t know when he turned away from you) and met your eyes. Your loving and understanding eyes.

"I understand what you’re trying to say. I know."

Of course, you knew. You were sure every member of the Button’s House figured out the nature of the Captains… preferences at this point. But none of you pushed him to say it out loud. You personally would kill (for the second time) anyone who tried. And maybe he was still not ready, but the fact that he wanted to tell you first was incredibly touching. If you could, you would be crying now. You felt beyond honored to be the one who he trusted most.

His eyebrows knitted together, and his lips parted slightly in surprise.

He gulped visibly, "You know?"

You nodded and smiled at him.

"And I want you to know and remember that it doesn’t change anything. I understand how hard it is for you to say it out loud. And you don’t have to. Not until you’re ready. And even then, you don’t owe anyone any explanation. I love you, Cap. We all love you. And you’re right, love is beautiful, and we’re free to love whoever we want to. And, well, if we’re lucky enough, maybe the next ghost will be one of your liking, eh?"

You nudged him with your elbow lightly and he smiled for the first time. His smile was small, but it was genuine. His eyes were shining with unspilled tears from all the emotions that filled him after your words. He felt like the weight of this terrible secret that he kept all those years was lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in many years, he felt like he could breathe.

masterlist | request rules

I wish a very happy (even if a little late) birthday to my dear friend @laurawantstosleep. May the luck be forever on your side and every one of your dreams come true. Here's a little something that I hope will brighten up your day. Love you! ♥

summary: It's your birthday and Otto, being the best boyfriend, prepared a surprise for you.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

word count: 2246

A/N: sooo much fluff and love ♥

You turned the key and opened the door to your apartment. The moment you stepped into the small space of your corridor, you were welcomed with a thick warmth that made your body shiver from the contrast with the cold winter air outside.

You inhaled deeply to help your body get used to the atmosphere inside, and your nostrils were flooded with the very unique smell of your house. The smell that immediately whispered "home" right into your heart the moment it touched your senses, making it pump a little faster and warming you up from the inside.

You couldn’t help but exhale an exhausted sigh. The weight of the world fell from your shoulders the very instant, and your racing thoughts calmed down for the first time on this long day.

You closed the door behind you and kicked off your boots, changing them into cute, fluffy slippers. Then take off your coat along with other accessories that help your body keep warm in the unwelcomed winter weather. Only after you stepped further into the apartment and tossed your keys and bag onto the nearest stool did you notice strange sounds coming from within.

You paused and listened closely. From the direction of your kitchen, you heard the soft shuffling of clothes, quiet tinkering of something that sounded like metal, along with running water and… music.

You couldn’t make out the words, but the characteristic noizes of the brass instruments and the familiarity of the tune told you that it was probably something of Sinatra or similar. Your lips curled into a small smile.

Otto.

You walked towards the sounds and found him in the kitchen. Your spirit lifted instantly, filling your chest and coloring your cheeks with warmth. You leaned on the doorway, taking in the picture before your eyes.

His back was turned to you, while all of his attention was focused on something before him. From what you could see he was cooking something, humming quietly along to the song. Two of his appendages supported his weight, letting his spine rest, while the other two helped him, giving him different items and ingredients.

You watched in awe how the upper right (Flo, if you remember correctly) cracked an egg, poured it into the bowl, and tossed the shell in the bin with a delicacy you wouldn’t expect from a heavy metallic mechanism. At the same time the upper left limb (Moe) was mixing the contents of the bowl with a whisk at an amazing speed.

The whole picture was so sweet, so domestic. You bit your lip to suppress a grin threatening to break out. God, he was cute.

As regretful as you were to disturb the man, you felt the need to finally announce your presence. And hopefully, get a much needed hug after a long and tiring day.

"My love, what are you doing here?"

The sound of your soft voice made his head snap and his upper arms face you in an instant. Harry and Larry lowered Otto on the floor carefully, and now the whole four of them were chirping happily in greeting.

You breathed out a laugh and lifted your hand to pet each of them, as you usually would, but before you could do anything, a pair of strong and very human arms locked around you, squeezing you into the body of their owner. Your nose bumped into the softness of your lover’s chest, and your body relaxed, melting into him. Your hands wrapped around his torso, holding him even more tightly.

"Hey, darling. You’re early today."

"Yeah, we closed earlier because of the weather."

"Ah, I see."

"Why, you didn’t miss me?"

Even though your words were muffled a little due to your face being pressed against his chest, making it hard to talk, Otto heard you anyway. He pulled off of you, leaving his palms to rest on your shoulders to hold you in place, both with his hands and his almost hurtful look.

"Of course, I missed you, my heart. We missed you terribly. We always do."

The last sentence died somewhere in the crown of your hair as he pulled you back into his embrace again. You closed your eyes, breathing in his scent and enjoying the heat of his body once more.

"I missed you, too."

Four limbs tweeted merrily around you. You stood there silently, holding each other for a few more minutes before you finally had the strength to pull away. As much as you hated to do it, you needed to take a shower and change into something more comfortable than your work uniform. But you missed lunch today and wanted to fill your stomach before that. At least with some snacks.

"I wanted to grab something first. I’m starving, honestly. What are you making here?"

You turned your head to the fridge, but couldn’t even make a move when Otto’s hands grabbed your shoulders again, more firmly this time. Now this was confusing. His face was unreadable when he cleared his throat and asked rather nonchalantly.

"Err… Don’t you want to take a shower first?"

"Well… Yeah, I was thinking about just that, but I wanted to eat first and I need to take my clo…"

Gently, but firmly enough, he guided you in the direction of your bathroom. He didn’t even let you finish your thought, almost pushing you into the room.

"We will bring it to you." And just like that, he walked away.

Well… that was odd, but you were too tired to ask any questions, so you just went to the bathroom. Later, you thought lazily and peeled off your worn out clothes. Thank god it was your day off tomorrow. You didn’t feel like doing laundry today.

Otto, true to his words, brought you a set of underwear, clean pajamas, and a pair of thick wool socks. Before you sank into the bathtub, he gave you a gentle kiss, told you not to hurry, and jogged away.

Okay...

You took your time, listening to your boyfriend (and your body’s needs for the first time in forever). You waited till the water cooled down so much it was barely warm and not comfortable anymore to sit in. You put on a face masque and a lotion, and finish the treatment for a day with a moisturizing cream.

Walking out of the bathroom you headed to your bedroom to find the charge for your phone that was dead for a few hours now. The path to your bedroom lied through the living room where you expected to find your lovely nerd and suggest he join you for dinner. As you always did. Even if he was a little weird today, he was still the love of your life, and thanks to your damn working schedule you haven’t seen much of him lately.

But you always had dinners, and you weren’t going to miss it, even if you were already yawning heavily when you reached the main room. It was nothing fancy, of course, neither you nor Otto could afford something too expensive, but you didn;t mind. Your flat was simply comfortable and just big enough for the two of you (Well, the six of you, including Harry, Larry, Moe and Flo, but they were attached to Otto and when calm, weren’t taking up too much room). You loved it, honestly.

But you never thought of anything as particularly beautiful. You did not pay much mind to the surroundings anyway. Until this very moment.

A soft gasp escaped your suddenly tightened throat when you stepped into the room. The first thing that caught your eyes were a few star-shaped twinkle lights hung up attached to the ceiling. Their yellow leds illuminated the room the same way the stars illuminated the night sky.

The furniture was decorated with origami figures: animals and flowers of all sorts and colors. And stars. So many stars of all shapes… It was truly magical.

And in the middle of all this he stood. The man of your dreams. Your significant other, the love of your life and your very best friend, Otto Octavius. He always had a way to surprise you and leave you starstruck in one way or another, but this… It was something else entirely.

He stood in the middle of the room, clearly waiting for you, with the softest look in his eyes and a gentle smile on his lips. A soft brown colored three-piece tweed suit complimented him nicely, hugging all of his curves in all the right places. White checkered shirt emphasized the image, giving off a bit of professor vibe.

"Thank God you’re alive!"

He chuckled and took a small step towards you, his children chirped and it almost sounded like giggle.

You gulped, unable to speak.

"I told you not to hurry, but I wasn’t expecting you to slow down this much."

You wanted to say something, to look around once more, but once you saw him, your eyes were glued to him.

"Otto…" You managed to choke out. "What is all of this?"

He huffed out a laugh, enjoying your confusion.

"Have you forgotten, my love? It’s your birthday."

You shook your head. "But… It’s only tomorrow."

"Ah, that’s where you’re wrong." He closed the distance between you in one big step and showed you his watch, raising it to your eye level, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze off of his beautiful face.

"It’s six minutes past midnight."

He looked delighted and a little bit smug. Of course, he wanted to tease you even now.

As you were staring into his chocolate gorgeous eyes with an unmistakable glint of mischief that he somehow always managed to keep at all times, you were repeating only three words. Over and over again, they spin in your head like a broken record, taking all of the space in your overwhelmed mind.

I love him.

You didn’t know how you got so lucky to have this man in your life. Every time you asked yourself that, and every time you did not find the answer, but god were you happy to have his love. And he felt exactly the same.

He loved you. He adored you.

That’s why he spent a whole month preparing the perfect celebration. That’s why he dug into the internet and learned how to make origami figures. That’s why he tried and tried and tried again to bake the cake from a family recipe that his mother always made for him. By all means the result was worth any effort. You deserved any effort. You deserved the world, and God he loved you so much.

You managed to take a breath and slowly took his hands into your smaller ones. Your fingertips trembled from all of the emotions you felt at this moment. Your heart was racing inside of your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a captured bird that wanted to break free of a trap that was too small for it. You didn’t want to calm her. You couldn’t even if you tried.

Your eyes stayed locked and you hoped that he knew, that he felt, everything you wanted to say to him. Otto’s lopsided grin melted, the twinkles in his eyes faded slowly and were replaced with something different. Something deeper. It was not the flames of desire that you know so well by now, no. It was calm and sure. Steady and confident. It was the light. The light as bright as the shining of the sun itself. And just as radiant.

But unlike the gas giant, this kind of light didn’t burn. This kind of light warmed you, both your body and soul. This kind of light healed you and helped you grow. This kind of light enlightened your life and your path, allowing you to see and not be blinded.

This was the light of love. And it reflected in your own eyes and heart.

He lifted your hands to his face, stroking them gently with his fingers. So gently, as if you were made of glass and he was afraid to break you, he started to leave delicate, almost feather-like kisses against your knuckles. First on the right hand, then on the left. He kissed every bone, every freckle, every mole and scar, showered the tips of your fingers with quick pecks.

And the last bites of cold wind and sharp snowflakes you might still feel on your skin melted under his touch, along with your heart. His eyes held nothing but adoration and love, and you felt your eyes water.

God, how much you loved him. So much, it almost hurts you. But you knew he would never in a million years let anyone, even himself, bring you any harm. The love you had for him, so strong and intense, so huge it couldn’t contain in your body anymore and now threatened to spill through your eyes as words failed to express it. You loved him.

And he loved you.

He let go of your hands, gently placing them on his belt and cupped your face. He covered your lips with his plumpier ones in a tender kiss and the world stopped. He felt perfect against you, like you were always meant for each other. The kiss lasted a moment, or maybe it was hours. Finally he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

"Happy birthday, my love."

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