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swordsandholly · 3 days
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Across The Way
Ch. 2: And So It Begins
Retired!Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader
MDNI
Ao3 | Previous - Next
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
A/N: I got this out a lot faster than I thought I would. Hopefully my work doesn’t get too insane and I can get the next out in a timely manner - it’s going to be a bigger one!
“You were right.” Simon carefully cuts through the loaf with a serrated knife. He’s never lost his skill with them, despite their uses becoming increasingly more domestic over the years. It’s charming, in a way - the juxtaposition of where they started and where they are now.
“Right about whit?” Johnny asks.
“She is a pretty little thing.”
“Donnae tell me I need tae be worried about ye sneakin’ off at work.” He jokes. Simon would never, of course, but it’s fun to see the way his cheeks heat up at the implication. Without his mask he wears every expression with reckless abandon.
Simon settles his large frame into the seat across from Johnny at the dining table. It’s small, they don’t need much. The chairs always creak under Simon’s weight in an almost threatening fashion. He pushes a plate with two pieces of the bread and some eggs over to Johnny. There’s an odd tug in his chest when he picks up the slice - an urge to be gentle as he spreads butter over it. Gentility is not a compulsion he feels often.
“S’good.” Simon mutters around his bite.
Johnny nods along after taking one himself. There’s love in it - he can tell. A piece carefully crafted with only absolute perfection in mind. How strange that food can carry such a feeling.
“Was a wee bit worried we’d be stuck across from the nicest, worst baker in the world.” He mutters.
Simon huffs out a half laugh.
~~~
Your first week goes by in a blur. For a small town they sure do manage to keep you busy. It’s good, you remind yourself. Better than none. If you keep it up at this rate you’ll be able to hire help by the end of the summer quarter.
By Monday, the first day of your “weekend”, you’re overdone. Head dizzy and body exhausted, you spend the day in bed. It’s a gratifying exhaustion, one you hope to build more of a tolerance for. As of now, though, you elect to remain deeply buried under the covers.
When you wake for a second time the sun is already near setting again. The entirety of Monday slunk by with you in bed. You grumble to yourself angrily like an old man. You wanted to unpack today - to at least get your clothes and kitchen items put away.
“Stupid.” You grouse. At least you still have time to shower, you suppose.
As you stand the world blacks out for a moment, your body swaying in place. You allow yourself to fall back on the bed, sitting while your vision slowly comes back into focus. Blinking away black dots and off squiggles that dance across your eyes. On attempt number two you manage it, making your way to the bathroom.
The work is worth it. The pain is worth it.
This is what you always wanted, after all.
You are happy. You can feel it in your bones. They’re lighter than they used to be - your whole body thrums with excited energy even as you have to lower yourself with the upmost care into the shower seat. Even as you have to scrape one of the cheap fold out chairs you managed to get over to the stove while you cook a late night dinner. Thank god for low counters.
When you were arranging your schedule it took a while to get it perfected. To compensate for your body you have to have time to rest and be able to do a lot of baking preparation before the work week starts. Monday and Tuesday are for rest. Wednesdays are for prep. The shop is closed but you’re in the back working your ass off mixing and kneading and shaping doughs. As well as practicing new recipes you want to add to the store’s line up eventually. Your goal is to sell American biscuits, preferably in batches of six, but those take a lot of work and don’t keep as long. They’ll have to wait until you have hired help.
It’s all chance and whatever you can manage to make happen. You learned to be okay with that, though.
You’ve got plenty of spoons, you tell yourself. Just need to use them wisely.
When you finally close the fridge, now fully stocked with dough ready to proof and bake, you check the clock. It’s still the early afternoon. You finished sooner than you assumed you might. The thought makes you giddy - makes you feel accomplished.
It makes you feel normal.
As you exit into the warm spring sun you take a moment. Ever since you arrived you haven’t been able to just stop. To just take everything in - let the foreign air fill your lungs and the aura of the town sink into your bones.
It’s a lovely little main street that you’re located on. The building to your left is a large family owned pharmacy (very convenient for you) and to your right is an empty brick building. It looks like a former post office, but from what you know the current post office is a few blocks down beside the grocers. It’s quaint, the lot of it.
Your eyes settle on the shop across from yours housed in a simple brick building painted white. The upstairs is an apartment much like yours, you think, but from what you know it currently remains empty. The sign above the door reads A Cut Above the Rest. You wonder if that was Simon or Johnny’s doing.
Would it be weird to go in? You suppose not, after all they came to yours. It’s only fair you give them some patronage as well. Plus you need to ask how the bread was. Hopefully they liked it - you realized halfway through the night that you didn’t even ask if they like sourdough before shoving it into their hands.
That thought kept you up later than you’d like to admit.
You look both ways down the street. This particular spot doesn’t have a crosswalk but the road is so dead even when the downtown is busy you figure it’s worth risking. The lack of danger doesn’t stop you from fast-walking across, though.
The shop’s old-fashioned door bell chimes prettily as you push it open. For a butcher it smells extremely clean - almost clinical. It’s small, with an L shaped display counter and a register at the end nearest the door. Packages of sausage links and the like hang on displays across the back wall. Beside the wooden saloon doors that lead behind the counter is a little dog bed with a very well crafted name plate reading Riley hanging right above it.
So cute.
“Afternoon.” Simon appears from the back, wiping his hands on a rag. You jump a little, so lost in taking in your surroundings you forgot what you came here for.
“H-hi!” You smile. You forgot how intimidating Simon is. His gaze levels you - pins you underneath him like a fly under a swatter. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic. “I thought I’d come check your shop out and ask how the bread was?”
“It was good.” He replies bluntly. Totally monotone. The corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. You decide that’s it’s a smile - whether that’s the reality of his expression or not.
“It’s really nice in here.” You look around. There isn’t much for decoration. The walls are too covered in menus and diagrams of cuts to leave room for anything extra. There’s a shelf of odds and ends opposite the main counter full of high end mustards and condiments. Little things to go with whatever you could think to make out of the varieties of meat they offer.
“Thanks.” Simon nods. “One moment.”
You watch with curiosity and a slight frown as he makes his way into the back. He almost has to duck under the doorway. Old buildings with low ceilings and all that. The place definitely wasn’t made with a six foot plus behemoth in mind. You continue to look around, rocking back and forth on your heels. They have a perfect score on their inspectors plaque. You might not know Simon well, but he seems the type to be absolutely precise about everything. The score doesn’t surprise you.
Yours is almost perfect - some rules are different here than in the US. Next time, you swear you’ll get it top notch! You look across the street at your shop. You wonder if you made the wrong choice with The Honey Bun. It’s bit much now that you see it from afar but it still makes you smile. That’s what matters, you guess.
Simon comes back out with a small, nicely wrapped package. “You don’t ‘ave any dietary restrictions d’you?”
You shake your head and he pushes the package toward you. Your eyes widen - it’s a great cut of high end beef. Like, really good beef as far as you know. Something you’d never be able to afford even if your business wasn’t brand new. You stare between Simon and the little pack in your hands. “Th-this is so nice but I-“
“It’s only fair.” He cuts you off. “Neighbors, yeah?”
You can’t help the grin that splits your face, eyes misting up despite yourself. Kindness has not been a constant in your life - more of a rarity. Something you had to claw and fight to earn. Being given it so freely but such a taciturn man has you reeling just a bit.
“Thank you… I’ve got to head back but, uh, thank you. Really.” You press the small package to your chest. “Tell Johnny I said hi?”
“Course.” He nods.
“Thanks again!” You grin, giving a little two finger salute before practically skipping all the way back into your dingy little apartment. Happily, you pack away the meat to use later. It’s too nice to just make any dish out of - best to save it for a special occasion. Your first gift in your new life. Best to savor it.
~~~
“Afternoon, bonnie.” Johnny appears in your doorway while you sweep up from the Saturday rush, bell chiming upon his entrance. “Hope I’m not a bother.”
“Not at all.” You smile, resting the broom on the counter. “Hello to you as well, Miss Riley.”
She huffs out a quiet bark in reply, sitting dutifully at Johnny’s feet. You don’t have much experience with service dogs - other than the well known rule not to pet them while they’re working. They were always too expensive for you to get and your condition wasn’t labeled serious enough to warrant financial aid. (Despite the fact that you can, and have, passed out and hit your head on something hard.)
“Can I get you something?” You ask.
“Och, I’m a’right. Just wanted tae stop by an’ say hello before headin’ home.” He gives you that dashing, bright grin. “Simon always kicks me out of the shop at close.”
“He doesn’t need help?” You ask. Surely cleaning up a butchers shop is a huge task. You have your work cut out for you with all the flower - you can’t imagine cleaning that amount of blood and mess.
Johnny shrugs. “The cleaning chemicals trigger my migraines.”
You hum. “Well, you’re always welcome to stop by. Actually,” you turn on your heel, “I’ve got somethin’ I’d like you to try, if you want.”
“Never one to say no to food. Especially from a pretty girl.” Johnny says as he follows. He tells Riley to stay in front and she listens - the perfect little lady that she is. You nearly trip at his comment, keeping your back turned so that he hopefully doesn’t see the heat spreading from your face and down your neck.
“I-it’s, uh, you ever had American biscuits?” You ask, praying he doesn’t notice the shake in your voice. You have to get on your tip toes to reach the small basket you made the day prior - carefully lowering it and pulling back the gingham cloth you wrapped them in.
An image of home.
“Aye, had them once on a layover at some chain diner.” He nods. “Donnae think they were fresh, though.”
“Well these are proper biscuits.” You carefully cut one in half with ease. “Sometime I’ll have to make you some gravy to go with.”
“Yer gonnae make us fat, hen.” Johnny chuckles.
“There are worse things to be.” The words come out more defensive than you would have liked. An automatic mechanism - a harshness you've honed over the years.
You hate how easily you wield it, sometimes.
Johnny leans forward over the table, a furrow in his brow. “I dinnae mean-“
“Here.” You cut him off and hold out the biscuit on a napkin, smothered with butter in the middle.
Johnny lets your interruption go. Probably happy for an out. He takes the fluffy baked good slowly, cupping it in his large hand with care. You wonder if he always does that, touches things with such gentle love. Is it learned? Is it just natural to him? Does he touch Simon like that? Gentle caresses?
What’s that like?
Johnny takes a massive, enthusiastic bite. Somehow his blue eyes manage to sparkle even more, grinning as he chews. “Sh’gew!”
You laugh at his attempt to talk around the food. “Glad you like it.”
He swallows roughly. A full body gulp. “Why’d ye start bakin’ anyway?”
“My grandparents raised me.” You fold the biscuits back up in their little basket. “My grandma taught me how. She was the best in town - won the pie contest almost every year.”
“Tha’s lovely.” The smile he gives you is so genuine it makes your chest constrict.
“Mean old bat but she could beat anyone in the kitchen.” You laugh. “We swore she had some kinda magic. Like a green thumb but for cooking.”
“My mum’s like tha’. Can make anythin’ out of nothin’.” He nods along.
You fall into an easy back and forth - never breaching anything deeper than the most surface level of content as he eats. It’s manageable. Johnny doesn’t push and neither do you.
Riley barks from the front of the shop.
“Och, tha’s my queue.” Johnny brushes off his hands and checks the front of his shirt for crumbs. “Take care, aye?”
You smile. “You too.”
~~~
Johnny’s words keep ringing in your ears. You don’t know why. It’s nothing special. There’s no reason to attach to them. You raise a hand to wipe off the fog and stare in the small mirror hung above your bathroom sink.
Pretty girl.
You scoff. You’re not a pretty girl. You’ve never been a pretty girl. Fat girl. Stupid girl. Sick girl. Tired girl. Sad girl.
That last one you’ve heard more than anything else. Out of all the descriptors of you it stands out as the most used. By everyone from teachers to your own family. Always just a sad, sad girl.
You got it from your mom, they’d say. It’s not like you would ever know.
You rip your eyes away from the mirror and try to let the thoughts melt away as you sink into the comfort of your blankets. Those thoughts live back on the other side of the Atlantic. They don’t get to follow you here.
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bwabys-scenarios · 15 hours
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Kurapika can’t stand being away from you, his cute chubby girlfriend. You’re his everything, the only person that makes him feel complete and whole.
Before, Kurapika could hardly call himself clingy, but after meeting you he can’t deny the allegation. All he wants to do is cling to you as tight as possible, basking in your love and affection.
When he’s down, you comfort him, letting him lay his head on your chest or soft tummy while you play with his pretty blonde hair. His nightmares are frequent, and he often wakes you up in tears, begging to be held and to know that you won’t leave him all alone.
You’re so soft, a comfort that Kurapika has denied himself for so long. He wouldn’t let himself have those simple comforts, thinking he didn’t deserve it. But how could he deny you, his beloved? Warm, kind, and ever so soft. So curling up with you and getting to nestle against your plush frame after a hard day is more than enough to have him sighing in contentment.
One thing Kurapika enjoys is feeding you. Whether it be sweets, savory foods, or some kind of fruit/vegetable, he swoons when you make a happy face as he places something delicious to your lips. Plump women were desired in his clan, and making sure your significant other was well fed and happy was a way to show you cared.
So his pretty cherub eating from his hand, smiling and happy was all he wanted. Getting to lick up any of the mess was also… very satisfying.
Kurapika had once thought he’d spend his life alone, with no one there to love or accept him for who he truly was… but then he met you.
Already, he was attracted to your plump form and cute chubby cheeks, but you were endlessly kind and understanding, always sitting with him after he drank himself stupid and patting his back while he threw up.
Sometimes, the survivors guilt made simply existing a sin to him. Why did he get to keep living after his entire clan was wiped out? He wondered if everything would stop hurting if he just left this world and joined his kin in the afterlife…
But then he’d remember you and realize that if he stopped living, he would never feel your warmth again. He would never get to hold you tight to him, never get to hear you laugh and giggle when he said something that wasn’t supposed to be funny, but made you laugh anyways. He’d never get to teasing pinch your chubby cheek when you messed up and scold you, making those cute cheeks heat up until he felt the urge to coo and gently caress them.
And most importantly, if he died, he’d be leaving the woman he adored behind. That’s when he realized he had fallen for you, and that nothing could separate him from you, not even his own depression and pain.
So Kurapika decided to live for you until he could learn to live for himself, and living for you and everything so easy and sweet.
He spoiled you, taking you shopping often, getting you custom made clothing when the items in store didn’t come in your size or fit like they were supposed to. Any little thing you asked for was yours, and he quite enjoyed getting to see you all dolled up for him.
Especially when he got to take it all off and make love to you after a romantic date together.
Getting to fuck into your warm, fat pussy and hold onto your plump thighs as you writhed and moaned beneath him really made Kurapika glad he stuck around. Otherwise he wouldn’t be cumming inside his princess, filling her chubby tummy to the brim with his seed.
Suckling on your pretty breasts, covering your neck in his love bites and marking you as his makes him feel at ease. Although he feels a bit bad watching you put on a scarf to hide all the marks he left, part of him is proud. You’re his little cherub, and no one else can have you.
The only thing that could ever make him love you more would be the sight of your already plump tummy swelling with his child.
Kurapika wants to take care of you for the rest of his life and provide you a comfortable life. He adores you, you’re all he has left. And when you only have one thing left, you treat it with the utmost care, don’t you?
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kiwi-jelly-mochi · 2 days
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You know what I’d love? A long one shot (or even a few consecutive chapters) about a reader who’s terrified of intimacy and relationships, but wants them really bad (plus-sized ofc) (maybe I’m projecting lmao🤪). It would be super emotional at points, cathartic in general. It would be cute, I think.
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minervadashwood · 2 days
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Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️
The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 32
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Summary: It's been a week or so since Glenn and T-Dog saved Rick. Now, your pack is getting settled in new place. Word count: 3K This chapter contains: Nesting, going into heat, firearms, smut.
Author's note: I am a little behind on posting chapters to tumblr. So I'll be trying to fix that in the next few days.
==
Nest.
It was all you could think about as you took water and soap to every surface in the kitchen. The other rooms had been cleaned, from top to bottom, including the loft and the basement. The loft had a low ceiling, but Ro and Merle had made their bed up there, using an air mattress and sleeping bags. Carl slept on the main floor, closest to the wood stove, while you, Rick, and Daryl had a makeshift bed in the basement. It was a far cry from your house, a home filled with Daryl’s handiwork, not to mention modern furniture. All that remained were some old, hand-made chairs and a small kitchen table.
This cabin, like the others around it, was old, from the 1850s, you’d guessed, based on the structure and style. In more recent years the land had been repossessed then abandoned. Before then, generations of Dixons had lived here, in their own version of Walton’s mountain, before the Great Depression.
Despite the bedding downstairs in the basement of this old, cozy cabin, your omega was desperate for safety, seclusion, and comfort.
As you cleaned, you were also looking after Carl. He sat at the table, still and focused as he drew pictures to give Lori and Shane when they arrived. He’d grown quiet over the last few days, since you left home.
You hoped, for his sake, that Lori and Shane would get here soon.
The past few days remained a chaotic whirlwind, made all the worse by your biological imperative. Soon after you met Glenn and T-Dog, your mates decided it was time to get out of town, before things got worse.
The next morning, you packed what you could: clothes, food, and supplies. When it came time to pack up the pillows and blankets from your nest, you sat frozen in your nest, trying not to cry. That’s how Daryl found you when it was almost time to go.
“C’mon, Bubbie,” he said, clearing space so he could sit next to you. “You’ll make a new one.”
“You built this for me,” you replied gesturing at the bed, then running your hand along the shelves behind it. “You made this a home. For us.”
Daryl gathered you in his arms. “Yer the one who made it a home. ‘Sides we’ll come back when it dies down.”
You shook your head. “I don’t think we will. The way Glenn describes the city…I don’t think this will be safe for a long time if the dead are migrating here.” You took a deep breath. “I know we have to go.”
“Don’ mean it’s easy,” he said, hugging you. After a moment, he got off the bed and opened one of the cherry wood chests he’d made for your nesting materials. He dumped out all the unused, pillows and blankets, still in their plastic wrapping.
What to take was your decision, but Daryl helped you, arranging everything in the chest, and packing it tightly.
Later, when it was time to go, Rick reassured you, too. “We’ll get you a place for your nest in time.”
“What if we have to move again, while I’m in heat?” you asked. “It will be soon.”
“I know. We both do. That’s why we’re goin’ now. And it’s why we need to stick together. Not just us, but the new guys, too.”
You nodded. Rick wrapped you up in a tight hug.
“We owe them. I owe them,” you said. “They brought you back to me.” Even in the short time you’d known Glenn and T, you knew them to be good people. T-Dog, an alpha, kept his distance from you; he must have known you were close to your heat, but you’d gotten to know Glenn a little. He had strategic way of thinking, and you thought maybe he was some sort of weekend warrior. But no, just a delivery driver.
Now, in the cabin, you gripped the edge of the sink, panic rising. Trying to control your breathing, you glanced at the wooden chest sitting by the basement door. Then, you stared at Carl’s back, as a sudden, unwelcome wave of frustration came over you. Your omega didn’t want him near your nest. In fact, it didn’t even want your mates near it, not yet.
Outside, Merle and Ro kept watch while your mates were clearing out other cabins, making them livable. T and Glenn took one, next to yours. You bristled at having strangers so close by when your heat was imminent, but you owed them.
The front door swung open, and you flinched, letting out a whimper of surprise. Despite the gust of cold wind from the door, you were too hot to even notice, but Carl shivered.
Daryl stepped in, quickly closing the door, and going to add logs to the wood stove.
He took one look at you, and whether it was your bond or Daryl’s keen eye, he seemed to know exactly what you needed. Jutting his chin toward the basement, he sat down next to Carl, distracting the boy while you went to make your nest.
The chest was too heavy for you to carry, and through your bond you felt Daryl’s impulse to help you. Rejecting it and putting up a mental wall, you grabbed armfuls of your blankets and pillows, making a few trips up and down the basement stairs. When you were done, you locked the door at the top of the steps and got to work.
The padded mats you cleaned earlier had dried. One still held hints of Daryl’s musk, pine, so you put it in the center foundation of your nest and started arranging everything around it. Nestled in the corner of the room, the nest began to grow. Releasing your perfume, you set about making the entire area yours. Blankets were piled on top of each other, pillows lined the walls. After hours of work, you were almost satisfied and crept back up the stairs to find the house empty except for Daryl and Rick, who were both pacing in the open-spaced living room and kitchen.
“Carl?” you said, still on edge, but in control of your anxiety for the moment.
“With Jesus.” Rick assured you.
“Whaddaya need from us, Bubbie?” Daryl asked, his voice low and soft.
“I need your clothes, something,” you said, your voice almost whiny. Your first heat had been so perfect. But this heat was different. You couldn’t be sure your pack would even be safe here, or how long you could stay in one place. Especially with Rick and Daryl unable to protect everyone like they had been.
Wasn’t it selfish of you to need them like you did? Not just one, but both? Yet how could you choose? Yes, you were more in sync with Daryl, but he’d claimed you and been with you for half a year now. You cared just as much for Rick, and soon you’d be bonded with him, too.
Daryl started striding across the room, but you backed away, shaking your head.
“Not yet.”
Rick shrugged out of his fur-lined deputy’s coat and untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it as you watched. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, his soft dusting of hair enticing. Your stomach clenched and all you wanted was to lay on top of him and let him ease the growing ache in your belly.
Meanwhile, Daryl froze in place, and, although it took you a moment, you finally realized what you’d inadvertently asked of him. Quickly, you opened your suitcase and started pulling out unwrapped Christmas presents. What a simpler time that had been, when your most pressing worry was dropped stitches and miscounted rows.
Setting some things on the kitchen table, you approached Daryl with his poncho, it was hooded, with two layers of thick wool.
“Trade for your coat?” you asked him.
He took it and brought it to his nose, sniffing deeply.
“Ya make this? Fer me?”
You nodded. “I did some research and it’s supposed to keep you warm while you use your crossbow.”
Your mate’s face was red, and he was blinking quickly as he stared down at the gift.
“Merry Christmas,” you said quietly. Daryl nodded without looking up, refusing to meet your eyes or Rick’s.
“I-I-I have more,” you stammered, unnerved by Daryl’s reaction. Why would he cry over a poncho? You gave Rick his wide scarf and matching gloves. Daryl had a pair of gloves, too, fingerless with rubber grips sewn on the underside—for driving his motorcycle.
“Bunny,” Rick breathed, still shirtless and sniffing his scarf. “These are amazing. And your scent is all over them.”
Daryl grunted, and got out of his coat, handing it to you, and putting on his poncho.
“’S real nice, ‘mega,” he said, adjusting the poncho on his shoulders then grabbing his crossbow from where it sat nearby.
Clutching Daryl’s coat and then grabbing Rick’s shirt, you said. “Soon. But --”
Daryl looked up. “Ya dun wan’ anyone in ‘ere but us.”
You nodded.
Rick said, “While your finishin’ up, we’ll get Carl settled in with Jesus. Already talked to him about your heat.”
“You did?”
“Carl knows that you’ll need me— us -- for a few days.”
Of course, children knew, vaguely what an omega in heat entailed. Not the actual mating, but the privacy, the duty of alphas to care for their partners.
“And the others?” you asked.
“Merle swore off drinkin’ an’ Ro’s good with the kid. Glenn and T helpin’ with keepin’ watch.”
Their reassurances consoled you. Besides, the betas in your pack knew what they needed to do, and you trusted them. But Carl…he had been taken from his mom and now his dad, too.
You pointed to two crocheted Woobles on the table. “These are for Carl.” Both were dinosaurs from his favorite cartoon.
“I’ll make sure he gets them,” Rick said.
“Go’n now,” Daryl told you, jutting his chin at the basement door. “Be dark soon, an’ cold.”
You nodded, renewed determination compelling you to tweak your nest until it was perfect and cozy for your alphas, for yourself, and for the days that followed.
*
Finally, your nest was as close to perfect as it was going to get. Surveying the pile of blankets and pillows, your omega was finally happy to have a place to share with your mates.
Despite the stress of the past few days, a glimmer of happiness bloomed. Rick could claim you. Daryl would make love to you. And the world outside would fall away.
Skin still hot, you left the basement in search of your men. You’d been cramping steadily for the past hour, nothing unmanageable but growing more intense as time went on.
Outside, you heard the rumble of engines, and a wave of tension hit you. Not your own, but Daryl’s
Grabbing your coat, you ran outside, finding Daryl on the porch and Rick standing in the worn path near the house. A little behind Rick were Merle and Ro; Merle with a shotgun pointed at the winding path that led to the cabins.
In the distance, three vehicles approached, a Jeep, a Cherokee, and an RV.
“That’s Shane and Lori,” Rick said, but his hand was on the butt of his revolver, you noticed.
You approached Daryl, standing next to him as he held his crossbow, lowered, but seemingly ready to aim at a moment’s notice.
“You said it was just them two,” Merle shouted. “Then explain the rest of ‘em.”
The cars continued to approach, Rick glanced around, his eyes landing on Merle, who had his rifle raised.
“Put that down, Merle,” Rick ordered.
“Ya gonna make me?”
Daryl gruffly shouted, “Merle!”
Merle shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. If y’all wanna risk it, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
Glenn, from across the way, spoke up. “It’s all good. More people, yeah? Safer that way.”
You agreed with Glenn and Rick, at least on principle. Yet, right now, on the verge of your heat, the thought of strangers being near you or your nest, felt like a threat on your pack’s territory.
Just then, Carl ran out of the cabin next door, without a coat on. Merle lowered his gun even more at the sight of the pup, but you could still see the tension in his shoulders. Next to him, Ro was quiet and still, his hand at his side holding a gun.
The red Jeep barely came to a stop before Lori appeared, throwing herself out of the passenger side door and running to Carl. Shane got out, too, and you relaxed at that. If Rick trusted Shane enough to tell him about this place, then the people with Shane had to be trustworthy, too, right?
Shane’s scent didn’t alarm you, not like it had the first time you’d met him, but there were more alphas’ scents emanating as other people emerged from their vehicles. One alpha’s odor burnt in your nostrils; when a balding, scowling man looked your way, you knew it was him. In the same car were a thin woman and a cowering little girl, who was around Carl’s age.
The alpha stared at you, his eyes bulging, it seemed, making you gasp and hide behind Daryl. Daryl squared his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the crossbow as Rick took an intimidating step toward the strange alpha.
Still, the frightening man didn’t look away.
Rick’s voice sliced through your fog. “Inside. Now.”
Not a command, and not directed at you.
Daryl said, “Holler if—”
“I will,” Rick replied, keeping his eyes on the strangers.
Daryl took you by the arm and guided you back into the cabin. Inside the warm living room, you took off your outerwear as quickly as you donned it moments ago. Your body was at war with your mind. Cramps of need swept through your middle, beginning the incessant pulsing at your core. You reached for the kitchen table to steady yourself, but Daryl caught you, holding you tightly against him, your backside pressing against his front. Slick moistened your underwear, and Daryl’s reaction was nearly instantaneous as you felt him grow hard against you.
Glancing out the windows to see Rick shaking hands with the strangers, you trembled as Daryl let out a possessive growl and rubbed his scent on you. Melting against him with a whimper, you let your instincts take over, ignoring the activity outside. With a huff, Daryl let go of you for just a moment to shoulder his crossbow, then he practically shoved you to the basement door. Eagerly you obeyed, flying down the stairs and burrowing on top of your nest.
“Daryl,” you whined, stripping off your layers of warm clothing and gazing up at him.
He locked the door, and after placing his weapon nearby, Daryl laid next to you, pulling you against him and running his teeth along your neck.
“Fuck, Bubbie,” he groaned, and began kissing his mark. With his hand on your hip, he pulled you to him and threw a leg over you, kissing and fondling you onto your back. Ridding himself quickly of his clothes, Daryl lowered himself above you, his bare skin on yours as he settled between your legs and kissed you again.
Your core throbbed, clenching and unclenching, demanding more than kisses from the alpha on top of you. Daryl started pressing his cock to the apex of your thighs, just slowly grinding his hips against you as his mouth and hands worked you to a fever pitch. You grabbed at him, too, sinking your nails into his back, squeezing his upper arms, reaching for his ass to urge him closer. Daryl was frantic and somehow still gentle, knowing all your favorite places for his mouth and hands. The scent of your arousal only grew stronger, and Daryl groaned in response. Fumbling, he rearranged himself so he rested on one forearm while his other hand cupped your mound. Taking one breast into his mouth, Daryl sucked and nipped at your sensitive bud as he slipped a finger inside you.
“Yer so wet, ‘mega’” he told you, “Jus’ lettin’ me right in. Feel so good on my hand.”
Your belly fluttered at his praise. Raising your hips to meet his hand you moved slowly, then with more intensity as he added another finger. His hand knew just how to make you come unraveled.
“Yes, Daryl, please .” you begged, getting close.
Suddenly, Daryl’s fingers left you, and you cried out in protest. He silenced you with a kiss on your mouth, immediately breaching the seam of your lips with his tongue. At the same time, his cock slipped through your folds and found its home in your soaking, needy pussy.
“Ye-e-e-sss,” you moaned. His cock was so big and perfect, stretching you and filling you. When he started moving you hung onto him for dear life, savoring the feel of him inside you, of his mouth on yours, of his entire body caging you in.
In your soul, you felt Daryl too, his passion and his desire, crashing into you the more he worked your body. He paused his kisses and locked eyes with you, holding your face in his hands as he thrust, the steady movement of his cock inside you sending you over the edge.
“I love you, Daryl,” you moaned, pulsing around him and holding his gaze. His knot notched into place, and he came, filling you even more. Nuzzling your gland and his mark, Daryl kissed you gently, then his mouth moved, lightly kissing your jaw then your mouth. He collapsed on top of you then rolled you over so you could lay on his chest, his knot holding you together. Reaching beside you, you found one of your favorite knitted blankets and covered you both.
Still breathing heavily, Daryl cradled you in his arms, teeth teasing your earlobe as you sighed against him.
“I love ya, too, Bubbie,” he whispered, speaking the words aloud for the first time.
You wondered if he felt the fullness of your heart through the bond. He must have because he sighed and relaxed, whispering more sweet words in your ear.
“So perfect, my omega, so strong.”
Almost nothing else existed as Daryl held you in your makeshift nest. Only one piece was missing, and as you nestled into Daryl’s chest, you hoped that Rick would join you soon.
==
To be continued.
==
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shaisuki · 10 months
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“c'mere megumi. i know you're tired.”
gojo calls out to him but the boy ignores him and continued to walk.
“he won't satoru. you traumatized him.” you quipped at him.
teleportation is fun and all but not to a fourth-grader megumi who got almost dropped mid-air from the teleportation skill gojo have, only to catch him mid-air before he truly drops.
“i catched him before he fell.” the white-haired male pouts.
“catched him before he fell?” scoffing at him. “he's a child, satoru. think before you do something to him. you almost endangered him with your antics and you can't do whatever you please when you want. you're an ass and you know it.” you spat at him and gojo pouts and he's like a child kneeling down while being scolded.
you crouched down to meet the height of megumi. patting his head and you began to speak in a soft voice. “i'll carry you, okay? i promise no funny business.” drawing a cross in your chest to convince megumi. the poor child is sleepy and fighting the urge to not sleep caused by the earlier wrongdoing of an pre-adult.
deciding to trust you, megumi comes closer to you and puts his arms around your neck before carrying his small body in front of you. your arms tucked under his thighs and it turns to snuggle you. his jaw in your shoulder.
megumi blankly stares at the adult behind you. immature, he thought but his eyes are getting heavy and sleep is calling to him. before his eyes closed he reminds himself not to be carried by that weird man.
it took a few seconds before the child snuggling in you fell asleep. you can tell from the lack of movements of his body and the small snores. patting his back before continuing to walk.
gojo followed you. he felt bad and it was like a punch to him in the gut when you scold him but he likes it. loves it when your cheeks puff and your eyes rolling at him in annoyance.
stopping at a bakery to get a few sweets to satisfy his sweet tooth and for the siblings to eat back home. you continued to walk, enjoying the little peace and quiet before a old lady approached at you three.
“oh my! what a cute family.” the old lady commented and your eye twitched at the comment. giving the lady a smile before briefly bowing.
taken a back at the sudden statement before gojo burst out in a laughter. “she called us a family, (y/n).”
“ha-ha-ha. funny.” you dryly responds to him and adjusting your arm to make megumi comfortably settle in you. the child is completely passed out in your grasp and you can't help but to kiss megumi's wild hair in which megumi groans before going back to sleep.
“aww, come on. i didn't mean it, okay?” gojo whines, blocking your way as he walked backwards to meant he really is sorry.
“okay.” you replied back to him. “just don't do it again.”
“okay!” he beams up and once again silence filled in the long way of walking.
dusk is beginning to settle down and the sky turns into orange. the sunlight giving it's final rays before the night falls.
“kind of you to take them both, satoru.” you break the silence and gojo hums. thinking about something.
despite gojo's stubbornness and his lack of tact in things, you like that he's willing to help the children to have a roof over their head and spoiled them like it's his own. even preventing megumi to be taken away from his clan and let him have a normal childhood with his sister.
“say, (y/n). what if we adopt them both?” gojo asks you.
“we? and adopt?” gojo nods. waiting for your answer. “i think it's fine. these two will have two guardians to look them over if the other one's not around and in case something's happen to one of us.”
“don't say that, (y/n).”
you raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.
“it's inevitable, satoru. in this line of work we have.” you said to him. referring how dangerous the jujutsu society is and you'll never know what the future may hold.
“i'll protect you. us”" his bright blue eyes peeking through his dark glasses with sincerity. looking at you and megumi sleeping in your arms.
“satoru....” you call him and his eyes full of sincerity.
“that's nice, satoru.” you smile at him but the expression in his face is anticipating something more.
“i know you will, satoru.” and he grins. pressing a tender kiss in your forehead and patting megumi's head. “stop that, sato. you'll wake him up and don't get too sappy with me. it's not you.” he pouts at that but kisses you again.
he can't wait to be with you forever.
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Text
.⋆。What I Cannot Give You。⋆.
Steve Rogers x plus size reader
After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her
Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort
WC: 2.3k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.
You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.
“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.” 
You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head. 
Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.
“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.
“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness. 
“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.
“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.
“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.
Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.
Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.
“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.
“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.
But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.
“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.
“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.
“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.
“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.
“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.
“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.
You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.
“Then what is?” She implored.
“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.
“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface. 
“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.
Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring. 
“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping. 
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.
“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.
“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.
Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.
——————
Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.
Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.
Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.
Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.
You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward. 
And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.
“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.” 
“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside. 
In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.
“Steve-“ 
“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.
He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.
“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.
“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.
You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.
“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.
His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.
His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.
“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”
“But Sharon-“
“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”
Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.” 
“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.
“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.
“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.
“That’s my good girl.” 
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salaciousdoll · 8 months
Text
· · Just in: Gojo Satoru just found out he’s a chubby chaser like the rest · ·
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・˳ . ⋆ Reporting From Gojo Satoru x Chubby!Fem!reader ・˳ . ⋆
୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : Smut, Dirty talking, pwp, fluids( squirting, cum on body and inside), creampie, heavy body worship, Gojo calling you a cry baby and chubby bunny, words of affirmation, pet names ( such as doll, Angel, etc.), missionary position, stretch marks mentioned, reader is shoko’s nurse assistant( guess you could say it’s the original verse/ au in a way idk), please enjoy yourself. Wc: 800
ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚Note from Maydayaisha: This is for my chubby girls who doesn’t feel like their fave or anyone would love them. I wrote this with myself and other chubby/plus size babes. Love you all so much and just know I’m here for you all. Anyways, love you and enjoy my first time Drabble I decided to do! Also please note I did this in 45 minutes so it’s not gonna be perfect at all. <33
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“ Give it to me, baby doll.”, Satoru moans into your ear as he presses your body underneath his. The cushion of your body was something he needed to drown in. He couldn’t get you off his mind the moment he saw you working alongside Shoko as her nurse assistant.
Your eyes were shut tightly as your dried-up glitter lip gloss lips opened in a big O. You couldn’t take him and he knew you couldn’t because of the whispery moans falling from your pretty lips. “ Cat got your tongue, Angel. Too much f’ya.” Gojo rose up off your body— watching you shake from how deep he was inside of you. He chuckled whilst rubbing your clit— your legs were about to close but his hand stopped it, “ Ah ah Ah, no, keep them just like they are, pretty. Shit! You’re fucking squeezing me.”
“ Sato-Ahh~ I can’t— I can’t please pull out for a minute. Lemme - ugh! Mmm.”, Your moans were a ballad to him, a beautiful ballad. Gojo leaned down to kiss your bruised, puffy lips as he slowed down his strokes. Only then long stroking inside of your sloppy cunt. His cum was already painted over your pussy and he still had the energy to keep going. It was so painfully good because you two have been at this for about— shit who are you kidding you lost track.
Gojo knew he was digging inside of your stomach because of your juices traveling down his big cock, “ fucking pussy is eating on my dick. You’re that eager to take me in your stomach, Yeah? Don’t leave me hanging here love, Answer me.” You were speechless and couldn’t even talk— especially when he rolled his hips in a perfect circle, pausing to fuck his dick inside of you with the speed you never knew he had.
Tears danced in your pretty eyes, eventually dancing down your big apple cheeks causing Gojo to lick them off as he snapped his hips into yours. Your body vibrations were the topping to his cake. “ Got your breath took away, huh? Didn’t answer me-mmm- but you’re still so pretty for me, perfect pussy taking me deep.” Gojo slapped your pussy with his clean, pretty hands. “ You’re crying too? Such a big baby while taking my cock. Come on, just a little more for me, cherry pie.”
Gojo rose up again, smiling at you, “ No matter what anyone says, you’re beautiful, fucking gorgeous to me, especially when you’re taking my cock inside of that warm pussy of yours. Gotta say, Angel, you’re holding on so well.” His words of affirmation did nothing but make you squirt on his dick like a fire hydrant on a hot sunny day. “Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Gojo was chanting the words like the crowd chanting for their teams on a game night, only whispering it against your face when he bent down again. His moans were getting louder as he braced himself to cum anywhere in or on your body.
Soon Gojo’s long, slender fingers intertwined with your chubby fingers as his white hair clouded his vision from seeing you squirm and come undone underneath him. He stopped fucking you with a loud and long groan, pulling out of you when some of his cum got inside of you. He wanted some of his fluid inside of you and on top of your chubby body. Your pretty tummy with stretch marks was now being drowned with his white , thick cum. Gojo’s body was shaking drastically as he stroked his cock above you, “ Fuck, Shit! So so good. My chubby bunny. Such a good- mmmgh!- little slut. My good little slut.”
He stopped stroking his thick, pretty cock once all of his cum came out of his body and onto yours. Yours and his chest was rising and falling harshly. His red flushed face was an art you admired even through diamond like a vision from your pretty teary eyes. Gojo chuckled— watching you try to get your vision back by whipping your eyes. His big, rough hands grabbed your wrist, you should’ve known from his little smirk on his face, he’ll say the one thing you hated being called during sex, "My little crybaby as well.”
Gojo was now just staring at your body with his blue Crystal like eyes. He studied the different areas your stretch marks appeared at. He licked his lips at your body rising and falling slowly now. Your cute double chin was so admirable to him. He was in love with you. Maybe even obsessed. He fucking adored your chubby body. If this is what it means to be a chubby chaser then he’s at the top of the list. Maybe even in the VIP section with Geto, Toji, and Nanami.
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Tagging: @shunsuist @happygoluckyalexis @honeybleed ( my baby I am so sorry for not tagging you when I put this out, forgive me) @mastermindenoshimaalicia @cybercandy1 @simpingfor-wakasa @angelshub and anyone else who wants to be tagged in drabbles
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spn-incorrect-quotes · 6 months
Text
Dean: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?
Y/n: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.
Dean: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you.
Y/n: But I heard a siren.
Castiel: That was Sam.
Sam: Sorry, I got nervous.
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littlebit-of-art · 1 month
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Ghost comes home from a really long day and immediately does this, you can’t change my mind.
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gemini-sensei · 5 months
Note
What's everyone's (or whoever you feel like writing for) reaction to seeing their girls thick thighs wrapped up in a pair of thigh highs for the first time?
Obsessed. Lol jk... kind of.
Hawk sees them amd thinks of them as a gift all wrapped up for him. Makes sure she sees him licking his lips. Literally wants to dive in and mark them up but they are either in public or have somewhere to be. He's tormented by them until he can get alone time with her and lay her down so he can kiss up her thighs and pull the socks down with his teeth. He's about to go wild, no holding back 😏
Robby doesn't know how to register what he's feeling but he knows he likes it. Compliments his girlfriend on her whole outfit whilst staring at her thighs. Tries to make it less obvious but is terrible at it. Blushes and get a little embarrassed all too easily over some thigh highs and thinks it's ridiculous of him without realizing it's okay. It is okay and his girlfriend can help him come to that understanding. When he's sitting beside her, he puts his hand on her thigh and squeezes it.
The spillage is too much for Demetri. The thickness that tries to be contained by her thigh highs and it just spills over the top? Yeah, that's his favorite thing ever all of a sudden 🤤 catch him drooling over his girlfriend's thighs. She will have to close his mouth to keep him from catching flies while making sure to show off her thighs from every angle possible just for him.
Tory can't contain her satisfaction with this decision and makes sure her girlfriend knows it. Give her ass a smack and holds her close because she thinks other people are just as happy to see those thick thighs as she is (I love possessive tory jfc). Her hands are all over her girlfriend, teasing her a lot. Disappears for a while and puts some hidden hickeys under her girlfriend's thigh highs; it's their little secret 😉
Miguel also doesn't know how to conduct himself. On one hand, he wants to touch his girlfriend and tease her, and on the other he's a flustered mess. He's semi-hard in his jeans because of some thigh highs and doesn't know what to do about it, so he becomes easily embarrassed by it (tease the fuck out of him). He's done for.
Moon sees them and, similarly to Hawk, wants to dig in. Just wants to eat Reader up and show her a good time. Touches and squeezes those thick thighs every chance she gets. Truly obsessed. Goes out of her way to buy her girlfriend more thigh highs "just because" but it's for her own selfish indulgence.
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swordsandholly · 11 days
Text
Double Date - Double Down
NSFW | MDNI
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader
Word count: 4.9k
Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.
A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.
“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.
Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“
“How do you know I’m free?”
“You just said you were!”
You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.
“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“
“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”
You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”
“Johnny’s friend will probably-“
“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”
“He won’t-“
“We got a deal?”
She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”
At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.
The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.
“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.
You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…
Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.
“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.
You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.
“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.
You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.
All in all, wayyyy out of your league.
He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”
You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.
“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.
Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.
He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”
“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.
“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.
“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”
Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.
You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.
“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.
She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”
In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.
“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”
He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”
“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”
His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”
You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”
“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”
You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”
He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”
Oh.
*Oh*.
You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”
He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”
Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.
“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”
“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?
“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”
You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.
“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”
“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.
He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.
“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.
“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”
“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.
Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.
“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.
He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”
“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”
“Yeah?”
“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”
“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.
The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?
“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.
“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”
Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”
“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”
“Apparently.”
His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.
Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.
“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.
“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.
You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.
His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.
“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.
Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”
“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”
He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”
“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”
“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.
“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”
“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”
“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”
“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”
“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.
“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.
How convenient.
“Okay.” You whisper.
After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.
At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.
It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”
“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.
Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.
“Simon!”
“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.
“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.
“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.
You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.
That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”
You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”
“Say it back, doll.”
“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.
“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.
You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”
Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.
“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.
His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”
Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.
Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”
“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.
“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.
“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.
He freezes, looking up at you.
“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“
Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”
All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.
“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.
“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.
“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”
The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.
“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.
Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”
Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”
“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.
You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.
“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.
“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.
Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-
“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.
Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”
“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.
For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.
“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.
You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.
“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.
You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.
“Good.”
It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.
You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.
Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.
When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.
“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.
Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”
“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.
He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.
It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.
By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.
Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”
“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.
You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”
“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.
“Are you a psycho?”
“Not generally, no.”
“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.
Simon just scoffs at you.
You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.
You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”
Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.
“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?
You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”
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dolliestfairy · 9 months
Text
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑈𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐹𝑎𝑤𝑛 ‌ིᨴּ ˒˒۪ 🦌ೀ
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𔓘 Tw: Kidnapping, Noncon, Forced breeding, Pregnancy, Bondage, and a little of housewife kink ig? This fics is kinda suffocating tho. read at your own risk. Chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned.
𔓘 Authors note: this fanfic is kinda fcked up. this more like a Psychopath Hunter x Fawn fairy than a yandere. some may found this kind of disturbing so.. if this isnt your taste then please gtfo..
Minors do Not interact!
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i'm thinking abt yandere hunter who is obsessed with chubby!fem!reader who is a fawn fairy.
yandere hunter who swears on his thumbs that he will kill anyone who tries to take away his wife from him who tries to hurt you.
yandere hunter who doesnt realize his obsessed nature over you. and called you "delusional" for calling him a crazy person.
yandere hunter who kidnapped you as soon as you placed one of your foot in his traps. shusing your cries while saying he would take care of you after.
yandere hunter who wants you to be his wife and bear his child. it doesnt matter if it was a mating season or not, he would try and no one could stop him.
yandere hunter who puts a rope above your chest and under your chubby belly just so you cant fly away.
yandere hunter who is almost dying from happiness because he just cant handle the cuteness of you with tears rolling down onto your tears.
yandere hunter who showed no mercy on you while his cock sliding into your pussy with an unexpected pace of speed. making you yelp.
yandere hunter whos one hand is on your mouth, covering you and muffling down your tears and cry, while his other hand plays with your nipple.
yandere hunter who suffocate you with affectionate after what all his done to you. shusing you and putting his plam hand on your cheeks and rubbing it while your body felt the cold air hitting every parts of your skin and wings, making you trembling.
yandere hunter who is 8 months later now is rubbing your swelled bellies, a bellies that now is filled with his unborn triplets. while he's thanking you for giving him this amount of happiness. which little did he know that he was far from a thing that was called "sane".
how can you even escape this madman when you're literally carrying his babies at the moment?
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ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ The MadMans are : DABI, MAHITO, Shigaraki, SUKUNA, GOJO, Itachi, OVERHAUL, DILUC, PANTALONE, Nanami, Geto, Kuroo, Suna, Tsukishima Kei, BACHIRA, OBITO, Sasuke, TOJI, Douma, Michael Kaiser, KAKUZU, KISAME, QIN SHI HUANG HOLY FUCKING SHIT, Alec, Hatake Kakashi, Horangi, Simon Ghost Riley, ALEJANDRO.
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chrollohearttags · 1 month
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I am salivating at the idea of jock!reiner, who everybody is intimidated by. Not so much because he’s a bully or has a mean streak but his stature. His physique alone is enough to ward off anyone..broad shoulders, six foot four, three hundred and thirty pounds of pure muscle and incredible strength.. but for those who know him, he’s nothing more than a gentle giant. As docile as they come and the sweetest guy you’d ever meet. Some would even describe him as a bit naive or gullible at times. His kindhearted nature, some believed, would be his downfall. Even so, that doesn’t stop the guys he plays football with from watching themselves when they see you come into the room…arm latched onto his as you two navigate through the party his team was hosting that night. A get together for newly recruited first draft picks for the NFL. He was proud to be attending and with the most beautiful woman nonetheless. It was far more laid back, and a pool party nonetheless..so naturally, when you came strutting through the courtyard; white bikini and fishnets covering your decadent skin and curvy frame, a belly button ring glistening from your tummy with your stretch marks on display, curls coiled atop your head, heels strapped around your smooth legs and white toes to match, everyone’s eyes was adverted onto you. As is his. He’s always gushing over his lady and it’s easy to see why. You’re always wearing revealing outfits and dressing provocatively. Titties out, ass always showing and never covering up regardless of the conditions. He never really pays it any mind but it’s not until one day that his friends pose the question: “you don’t have a problem with your girl dressing like that?” And with the widest smirk on his face, your man simply shrugs, and replies just as calmly:
“..not at all.”
mainly because he knows that no matter how many wandering eyes watch you or how many whispers he gets about your appearance…he’s the only one with the honor of getting to strip you out of said ensembles. The only one who gets to grope you from behind with those large hands and circulate his fingers on your clit as he marks your neck with kisses. He’s the one person who can make you come twice in a matter of mere minutes. And he’s certainly the only one with the privilege of getting to glide in between your thighs, bending you over with a hand laced around your throat as your colliding bodies stand before a mirror and his cock thrashing around inside of you..your juices dripping all down his pelvis and shaft as he forces you into an orgasm because the tip of his dick is perfectly stabbing at your sensitive core. “I’m the only one that can make this pussy squirt like this, isn’t that right, baby? The only person who can make you feel this good..” fish hooking those large digits into your mouth as he tugs you back with those plump ass cheeks clapping against him. “Yes daddy, this is your pussy..”
no need to be insecure over what’s rightfully yours <3
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angelskvll · 8 months
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#VENOM!
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pairing: dick grayson x chubby afab!reader
word count: 800+
summary: dick comes home from a very long night, after encountering poison ivy, he can’t seem to think straight when all he can smell is you…
warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! sex pollen, dick has a big.. erm well.. dick, BREEDINGGGG, slight degradation, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), dom!dick, sub!reader, dick calls reader a fleshlight (lovingly ;p), dick's lwk a lil' mean in this but it's ok he loves you ;3
authors note: lawddd hold me back this man is bouta make me combust like all over his face SOMEONE HELP ME
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“Fuckin’ hell-” Dick groaned lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pulling your plush body back into his harsh thrusts. 
Nights like this would normally have this outcome. Dick would come home, late at night after a patrol, looking and being frustrated as anyone would be, leaving you to be his relief.
But tonight.. Wasn’t one of those nights. This wasn’t calm, or half assed thrusts into your sopping cunt as you both lay half awake in bed, no. Dick wasn’t frustrated.. He was hungry.
“Dee! S-slow down baby-!” you squealed as your manicured hand reached back, your nails lightly brushing over his toned abdomen. 
He’d been so overcome with lust that he hadn’t even fully discarded his suit, only zipping it down the middle and off his shoulders to leave it pooling at his waist, with his mask still tied around his eyes. The white, chalky glow around his eyes hiding his irises from your view. 
He roughly grabbed your hand into his and intertwined them, a sweet gesture compared to his brutal pace he was keeping up with at the moment. 
“Mine, mine, mine..” you heard him mumble as he leaned down, cooing into your ear as he pounded you from behind, the smacking of your ass against his upper thighs echoing throughout the room. 
He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out.
“D-Dick, p-please baby-”
“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you.
He may have seemed like a sweet guy, and he definitely was.. Him in bed on the other hand, he was dirty, disgusting, nasty with the way he talked. 
“You’re my lil’ fleshlight aren’t you? Just a wet little hole to stick my dick into, huh? S’all you’re good for?” 
Tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, your pussy throbbed at his words, no matter how offended you really were from them. 
“S-S’mean Dee..” you cooed before he lifted you up to rest your back on his chest, groping your tits in one hand as the other trailed down your plump stomach and towards your pussy. 
“Mean? I would never, baby. How could you accuse me of such a thing? All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good..
“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly. 
“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up. 
Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back. 
“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you. 
“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence. 
Despite your best efforts and hours of him being inside you, he was still.. Unnecessarily hard..
You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you.
“P-please my love, let’s rest.. M’sensitive..” you whimpered as he chuckled lightly before grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs towards your chest.
“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. 
“So, help me..”
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shaisuki · 2 months
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SHIT! THAT HURTS, BUT IT'S AN ACCIDENT. RIGHT, SWEETHEART?
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ft. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru
content warnings ─── noncon, dacryphilia, implied kidnapping, punishments, forced affection, choking, stockholm syndrome, blood, forced marriage, delusions.
ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ accidents do happen. that's why you accidentally hit them but thank the heavens above, they understand. it would be easier if you just let them do what they want.
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GOJO SATORU
the accumulated perspiration coming from the deepest end of your dermis shows it appearance as it runs down to your forehead. goosebumps rising as you felt his presence getting nearer. there's no blood lust or the imminent danger that tells your mind to run. accustomed from the conditioning your body had done every time you sense his presence.
your grip on the edge of your book gets tighter as the pages crumple at your very touch. you hoped he's tired or isn't in a bad mood. in that way he would just force you to cuddle him until you fall asleep. one thing you knew with living with him that is he never sleeps or so you think. you didn't know. you never catched him being asleep. it's not like you're going to murder him in cold blood.
you shift in your seat. trying to find a comfortable position despite the weariness growing in you and pretends you're engrossed in your book. you didn't want to send him a message that you're scared of him but you weren't comfortable with him either.
cold palms holds your round cheeks and you were greeted by him smiling. his dimples deepening and he is yet to remove his blindfold. “i'm home, my love.” and he squeezes your cheeks a little hard. anticipating the words that will come flowing out of your mouth. it's a warning. your lips tremble a bit. “w—welcome home, satoru.” you managed to say out aloud and he was satisfied. hooking a finger in his blindfold before pulling it up and discarding it. a sign that his attention is all on you now.
“would you like something to eat?” you asked him. biting your tongue at the question. regretting at your choice of yours and you should have stayed silent. your brain screaming and hoping that he is actually hungry and you're not insinuating that will get him riled up.
gojo chuckles. “you could be so cheeky, mochi.” pinching your round cheek. “you know the answer.” he said and you panic for a brief moment before he takes it back. “as much i'd like to have you for dinner, i prefer us sharing a meal tonight.” you wished this was set on a different timeline. where you would be his from your own will. his good housewife where you will miss him for real and share the sentiments of being together despite busy schedules but it's not. you're still sane and you were just playing pretend.
a quick hot meal and the plates and bowls are already laden with food. you both ate in silence. aside from him spoon feeding you. watched in glee as you ate what he feeds you. your lips around the chopsticks while you chew and hums in delight.
the meal ends when the dishes are stacked in the sink and you told him that you'll take care of it while he takes a bath. he didn't look at you suspiciously. confident in himself that can't run away from him and you knew that too well.
you're almost finished drying the plates when he got out of the shower. never liked staying for too long when you're here. itching to get closer to you every time he's far away from you and he takes a little longer to admire his wife doing the simplest of things. the calmness of your face and your body moving in slow motion. it's almost he was being serenaded with such tranquility coming from you. he almost feels bad when he's the reason sometimes of your tears.
he slowly walks towards you. encasing you in his arms and he feels you stiffen against his touch. body turning rigid while his large hands dwarfs over to your smaller hands. helping you wipe the plate dry until there is nothing left to clean.
“satoru, not tonight. please.” your husband began to kiss you. he likes the word "husband". it brings him joy knowing that he is yours. “why?” he asks. his hard on poking through his gray sweatpants and is pressed to your ass. “i'm not in the mood.” you reason out. holding his wrists in a firm hold. his hands creeping under your blouse. his fingers digging in the plushness of your stomach. “then let's get you in the mood.” he breath out. kissing the side of your head and then to your jaw. his hands kneading the flesh in your stomach like dough. his touch were like fire. scorching and scalding. burning in your skin and causing you pain that you can't measure with.
“please! not tonight!” you snap out in anger. in frustration. sick to your stomach of letting him do whatever he pleases. of pretending that you like whatever he does.
he stops for a moment. listening to your plea and he grabs your shoulder. making you turn around to face him. he cups your jaw and forcing you to look at his eyes. you could stare at those icy blue eyes that looks like spheres where the universe is held forever. instead you loathed it. it's a reminder how vast the world is and here you are, imprisoned and is forced to this man's whims.
your lips are soft against him. he missed kissing you. he's been away for a week and you're here, denying him. he took it as an advantage to wrapped his arms around your waist before hoisting you above. your body beginning to struggle against him but he continued to kiss you until you were both in the bed. placing you down before his body traps you.
“is it because i was rough last week, baby?” his voice laced with concern that it's poison to hear. “no. i just don't want to be with you tonight.” your eyes begins to get heavy with tears. “not now, satoru.” you begged hoping he would stop. gojo grasps your cheek. “i'm sorry if i was rough but i will be gentle tonight.” he assures you but no words can convince you.
then you leave him no choice.
he puts his shin in your thighs preventing movements and lessening your resistance to him and then in a brief flash when your wrist got loose. his cheek started to sting. the crimson liquid seeping in the cracks of his dermis and he smiles. halting his assault to you and relish in the physical pain you put him through. since when did he got injured last? feel the pain of the surface of his body. he fought the strongest of curses. fought with toughest of foes. got stabbed with a blade and shaked the hands of death.
there's infinity protecting him and yet, he can't shield himself from loving you and he's more than willing to accept your touch and harm him in anyways you can.
he watched you as you curl up in a fetal position. protecting your body from him as you sobbed. the first tears rolling down in your cheeks and staining the pillows below you.
this won't stop. you would be always in this position no matter how you resist. you braced yourself for what to come and you were met with nothing. no greedy of his hands touching you and you were relieved. maybe, he gave up for tonight.
how wrong you are. you look at him through blurry eyes and his pale cheeks were colored in his blood. you did it. you inflicted pain in him. you wounded him. you take a gulp of air. calming your erratic heartbeat. not once did it crossed your mind you can harm him. with his infinity and those eyes and the endless power bestowed to him. you could never.
there is a look of animosity behind your eyes that he can see clearly. he's a little hurt aside from the wound. your soft body is sprawled beneath him. sobs racking throughout your body and it hurts him a little to see you crying.
“i thought it will change....” a hiccup interrupted your following words then when you regained your control to speak, you continued. “...my feelings for you. that one day, despite of what you had done. i'll learn to love you...” your fist clenching. your hands making a close-open motion before turning into a fist again. grasping the blanket. “nothing changed, i'm sick of playing house with you. i fucking hate you.” all the madness and you don't think it will reach to him.
a little. he knows how much you despised him. loathed him.
he don't care though. you were still his wife. no matter what you were feeling. be it hatred or fondness that he will never attain. you already hate him, what's the point of caring for your silly, little feelings when he can always make it up to you.
“i know.” he whispers. brushing a lock of your hair and leaning down to press his forehead to yours. his blue eyes staring intently in your eyes, tears at the corner.
alas, it never ends. your tears, your voice and will being taken away. how his hands latching at the lapels of your top. ripping it apart just like how he always do. your pajama shorts following.
bite your lips as he slowly penetrates you. don't make a sound. you tell to yourself. just don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don'—.
he promises to himself that after this, he would spoil you. buy all your favorite snacks, new clothes, a whole set of the book he knows you really like. he would take the day off to spend the rest of his days pampering you. kiss all the parts where it hurts but now, let him feel you as he kisses the salty streaks of your tears in your cheek. stare at your eyes and search for his reflection. his fingers intertwining at yours and when you squeezed his hands back, he'll convince himself that you really loved him despite all of that.
and it's more than enough.
NANAMI KENTO
you spend your days lounging around. the ankle cuffs weighing heavier than it is. search every cracks and cranny of the penthouse, hoping to entertain yourself and you've found some rather interesting things but it was nothing when you found the key to your freedom.
an old model of a phone. it wasn't damaged at the very least along with a few scratches and a minimal crack in the corner of the screen. you think it was nanami's phone during his high school years but you set aside the thoughts. this was necessary for your freedom.
pressing the key button, you let out a sharp gasp. the device vibrates and beeps with the model's ringtone. every second feels like eternity waiting for it to power up.
the screen lights up. showing you the screensaver and the date and time that was at least a decade ago. you check if there is network and you were graced with a full bar signalling that it was capable of calling someone. you changed the date and time to match with today and to avail the services.
your hands shaking as you tapped the buttons one by one. unaware of the door opening and the footsteps getting closer to where you are. you didn't even think he'd be home this early.
there's a sound akin to a purr when you pressed the button a little longer. it's the last digit of the number of the person you've been itching to call since you've been declared missing. they must be worried sick. your hands shake, getting clammy as you pressed the call button. there's static then the familiar hum of the number being dialed.
dialing.
dialing..
dialing...
“hello?” the familiar voice of your mom at the end of the receiver and your hands tremble. you breathe in and out. steadying your breathing and you want to break in a sob. this is it. someone is going to help you now. a tear falls before you can speak.
“mom! m—.” it happens in a slow motion. his large and warm palm in yours before he pulls the phone away from you. pressing the end call button swiftly and putting it in his pockets. since when? since when did he get back? wasn't he at work?
“give it back!” you yelled, reaching out for him. for his pockets. why did it have to be so close yet so far. “darling, you can't.” he says apologetically. pursing his lips in thin line and he can feel a migraine coming.
“no! stop telling me what to do! i'm so sick of you controlling me!” you almost spat at his face. desperately clawing him to get that device. he holds your shoulder, stopping your advances in him but you kept fighting for it. punching at him with your fists but what are you to the man who was built like a solid rock.
he's patient but sometimes his patience runs thin when things doesn't go in his way. he's already in a sour mood after having to deal with a colleague and you, his supposed to be sweet wife is fighting him. with no choice, he lifts you up. putting you in his shoulders like you were a sack of potatoes.
that didn't hinder you and you were putting up a fight. your freedom was that close and you couldn't let this chance slip. your arms hitting his back and your legs moving. squirming as you try to wrestle your way out from his grip.
“let me go! let me call my mom!” you sniffle. the tears flowing from your cheeks freely staining the back of his shirt. your arms still flailing and with a particular movement. your elbow made contact on his cheek. nanami remains stoic and he knows it will bruise.
you limply slide away from his body when his hold on to you got loose. clutching your arms and watch droplets of your tears fall on the ground. your hiccups were sudden and squeezes your chest with every breath. “i just want to go home.” you whisper.
when will you ever learn?
and why does it hurt him when you cry even when it's your fault. he loves you. a part of his brain tell him. it's an accident. he tells to himself. you were never meant to hurt him and you were just missing your mother. what a pain. you were supposed to be dead in the outside world. now, your existence are known and it would not take long before it spreads about you being alive. perhaps, he can make arrangements regarding to your family members.
he loves you and that's why he only tolerates your misbehaviors but now, he don't think he can put up with this tantrums again. you needed to learn.
nanami kneels down at your level. his hazel eyes warm and gives you the illusion that he'll let go of this but it was unforgiving. he cradles your cheek with his palm. “i'm sorry darling, you need to learn a lesson.”
the blonde sorcerer watch in desire as shiver runs down throughout your body. his fingers tracing the outline of your back where your spine is covered by your supple flesh. normally, nanami would take pleasure in this. watch as you writhe and squirm for him. it's considered therapeutic for him but in the next minutes it would be going to be hard for you.
your face buried in the sheet while your ass is in the air. bare and sore from the previous spanking and it's not enough. you needed to learn. take a lesson in what he's about to do and he's not forgiving at all times.
he rubs his fingers into your clit. flicking and pinching to get you nice and wet for him. although he's strict on prepping you first — stretching you properly with his fingers, tonight it wouldn't be present. he hopes you're already wet before he sinks his cock into you.
you feel him rub his cock to your slit before slowly inserting his cock into your hole. you winced as his large cock forces you to open for him. he's big and it hurts. tears stains the sheets under you as you bit the fabric. muffling your discomfort and the pain that spreads in your sex.
shit, all he can do is grit his teeth while your cunt engulfs his length. he can hear your whimpers and gasps and see the tears spreading in the sheets. he needs to do it or else it'll happen again. he can never let you go or leave him. you will always be forever with him.
when he taught that you're well and adjusted to him, nanami began to piston his hips at a brutal pace. the slam of his hips to yours makes your flesh jiggle and watch it stack in layers and fuck, it's beautiful how your body moves and responds to his every touch. just bare with it. he thinks to himself. he won't last too long from how good you are to him and true to it, he's already spilling his load inside you.
and now he regrets it. your back is pressed against his chest while he rubs the sore spots all over your body. you remained motionless. blinking the tears away and how you flinches away from his touch. remaining quiet and barely acknowledging his presence.
“forgive me, my darling.” he whispers to you. kissing your shoulders in attempt of redeeming himself from being too rough with you. his heart breaks when you ignored him. making yourself smaller in his presence despite being caged in his arms.
sighing, he continues his affections to you. knowing in due time you had your share and you wouldn't want to experience any of it again.
one thing he's sure of. you will never attempt again with his wrongdoings plaguing your mind and it's better. conveniently perfect for him until the next time.
FUSHIGURO TOJI
who thought you could put a fight.
although the damage was minimal, adrenaline pumps in his system. it's clear you were startled and your flight or fight response kicking in, in which you choose the latter to defend yourself.
a huge scratch mark decorating his arm and toji barks a laugh. licking his lips and the scar on the corner of his mouth twitches. it wasn't any different to the marks littering in his back from his artist of a wife. it wasn't bleeding but it stings when the cold air touches his peeled skin.
emerald eyes glimmers in amusement and toji crouches to your sniveling form in the corner of the bed. he cups your round cheek with his hand. “what do you say, princess when you've hurt someone?” he asks. humming to get that answer but you stubbornly avoided his gaze. rubbing your hands in your arms to comfort yourself.
toji clicks his tongue in annoyance. “it looks like you've forgotten your manners, huh?” he grabs your wrist and you pulled it away from him but toji kept his grip tight and bruising. almost crushing your wrist. “need me to teach it to you, sweetheart?” the sorcerer assassin taunts you. you shaked your head and toji sighs. you're going to learn it the hard way.
it's bruising. his hand wrapped around your neck and you see little spots of white in your vision while he drills his cock in your cunt. his other hand in your plush waist using it as a leverage to get deeper in your pussy. “are you really make me say it, you stubborn bitch.”
you can't speak. not when his hand are wrapped in your throat. you can't even make a sound and you stare back at him with tears in your eyes while you squeezed around him. earning a involuntarily moan from the man above you.
he loosens his grip and you took gulps of air before speaking, “i—i'm sorry.” you manage to croak out and toji chuckles. “see, it wasn't that hard to say. you really like being fucked by me before you can learn your lesson. keep it in mind, that me fucking you is second to me killing those monkeys outside.” toji leans down to whisper those words to you. looking at you side ways and watch your expression morphs into something of fear, desire as you moaned around him.
“don't be fucking stubborn to me the next time or you will get worse than this. i won't be forgiving you.” he warns. “understand?”
“yes.” you say nodding.
“good fucking girl.”
GETO SUGURU
you were absolutely mortified. he can see clearly how your lips trembled and the hue of your eyes being clouded with fear. shocked even. he knows you didn't mean it and you barely made a scratch on him.
“come here, sweet girl.” geto calmly called you but you shake your head. taking steps backwards like you were afraid of him. “now.” his voice now assertive and you slowly walk towards him. head hung low from being ashamed of harming your master.
“i—i'm sorry, geto-sama. i didn't mean it.” you drawl out to him and his fingers went to grasp your chin. meeting his gaze and you were nervous just by looking at them.
“i know you don't.” his hands finding your back to rub it. assuring you that it was fine and no harm was done to him and only the feeling of being betrayed that you felt unsafe around him. thinking that he will lash out at you and force you to unimaginable things that he's capable of but curse user is not like that. he values you that much but it doesn't mean you'll get away from it.
“but it is an accident i can't turn a blind eye on. are you scared of me?” he asks. his gaze turning dark as he looks at you straight in the eye.
you remained silent. truth be told, you are. you are scared of him. you've witnessed how he can commit such heinous acts without remorse and you're afraid that you'll upset him and you're going to end up like them. that's what you think but geto is far from that to you.
he noticed how your body trembles. the face of anxiety is visible for him to see and he chuckles to himself, amused. he was just playing with you and the answer is clear in front of him.
he brushes his lips to yours. “do not fear me, sweet girl.” he murmurs. the action enough to topple you in the edge and he hears your heart beating in your rib cage. your breath stuck in your throat and your eyes blown with lust.
“you always can make it up to me.” he says to you before turning his back to you and it was your cue to follow him in his private quarters.
that's why you found yourself bare in front of him. sweat glistening in your skin while you worked to please him. accident or not, you need to make it up for him. a way you can be freed from the burden you are now carrying by bestowing the most of heinous of acts to him. one thing that you promised yourself that you will never lay a hand in him unless he instructs you so.
you just love him so much that you're blind that you are only being exploited for his own gains.
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kylopen · 2 months
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Yes, My lord?
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18+ MINORS DNI
Warnings: Brain rotting SMUT, barely any plot, reader is 1 month pregnant (you could probs imagine she is not if you really wanted to) Mentions of body insecurities, super fluffy, Anthony is so whipped for Y/N. Borderline pregnancy/breeding kink? switch reader, switch Anthony. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it guys.
Summary: Since finding out you are pregnant Anthony simply cannot keep his hands to himself, and when you turn the tables his arousal runs wild.
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Reader
Masterlist
Length: 1.8k words
Note: I could NOT get this scenario out of my head, i had to get this written and published *sobs*
----
"That was a rather delightful evening"
You smile as you and Anthony ascend to your bedchamber for the night. The two of you had planned a ball to tell your family and friends the news of your pregnancy. The night was filled with laughs and joy from the family, excited about Anthony's first child with you.
The two of you approach the door and Anthony opens it for you, ushering you inside.
"Indeed, dear wife."
Anthony's eyes crinkle lightly at the sides as he smiles at you, approaching you from behind, fingers expertly undoing your corset. You sigh in relief, goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of release from your day clothes. Turning to face him you also begin to help Anthony from his clothes as he laughs lightly at your eagerness to help him.
Now nude in the middle of the room, Anthony looks you over in the faint candle light, his hand softly moving along the curves of your body. He follows closely behind as you perch yourself at your vanity, ready to take out your elaborate hairstyle. Anthony's hand gently pushes yours away from your head as he begins to take it out for you, looking at you through the mirror. His gaze was intense but loving, his eyes trained thoroughly on your flustered response to the intimate gesture.
"Look at me"
The sentence was commanding but gentle. You lift your eyes and he reaches for the hairbrush just beside you on the table. he begins slowly brushing your hair, gently getting rid of any knots or tangles. Anthony was always a gentle lover, but immediately after finding out you were carrying his child he became dead set on helping you with what he could. His tender nature shining through as he aids you in your bedtime grooming process. The feeling of his hands softly grazing your neck as he brushes has you in a trance, the soothing feeling of knowing you are safe and well taken care of my a man that loves you.
He begins massaging your scalp carefully as you let out a hum of approval. Anthony lets out a quiet laugh as he watches the bliss form on your face.
"I love you, Mr Bridgerton" you tease his formal name.
"Likewise, Mrs Bridgerton, I will love you for the rest of my life"
Butterflies flutter around in your stomach as you realise just how exposed the two of you are. Then it dawns on you, looking down at your puffy stomach, feeling as though you have already gained some baby weight. It had only been a month and you weren't even really showing yet. A flash of insecurity dances across your features at the thought of getting bigger. At this point, the Viscount could read you like a book and he stops his movements in your hair to lean down and kiss your head.
"Speak what is on your mind, my love"
You think for a second before answering.
"...My... Body..." you trail off.
"You are the most beautiful woman i have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Even more so now you are carrying our child."
You look down and pinch your widened hips, and in response Anthony moves your hand away, caressing you. He then grabs your hand, pulling you up to stand with his chest touching your back.
"There is nothing more appealing to me than my beautiful wife swelling with my seed..." his eyes darken at the thought as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck, lightly nipping and sucking and you shiver in his arms.
Heat rushes straight to your cheeks and in between your legs as you feel a solid length press against your lower back. You breath out shakily as he presses it harder against your backside.
"Anthony..." You moan softly, bordering a whimper.
The second he hears his name from your lips in such a tone he struggles to hold back, the heat in the room thickening with lust. He pushes you gently onto the bed and settles himself behind you, spooning you. His slightly rough hand glides slowly up and down your side, upper thigh to hip to shoulders. He caresses every part of your body paying extra attention to the parts you were most conscious about. You let out more whimpers from the intimacy of it all, your face feeling incredibly hot and you squirm under the touch. Your thighs squeeze together to relieve yourself in some way, only making Anthony smirk and his touches becoming more daring. His fingertips ghost along your nipples, but fall back down elsewhere on your body.
"Anthony... I am already-" you shudder as he passes by a particularly sensitive spot. "I am already pregnant..."
His laugh rumbles against your back.
"I am aware. That does not mean we cannot enjoy each others bodies hm, dear?" His tone was devilish as his touches become more bold. You flip onto your back and slightly part your legs with a pleading look to Anthony.
"So needy and impatient Viscountess Bridgerton" He tuts with a smirk.
Deciding to take matters into your own hands you launch up, planting yourself on top of him with heated cheeks. If he will be so cruel and tease you even in his aroused state, you would use him yourself. A look of surprise flashes across his face before it grows into an incredibly cocky looking grin. His body betrays him, as his chest rises and falls at a fast pace.
"What is this? darling wife." he cocks his head to the side, the same grin on his face. His eyes hold a fiery hunger.
"It seems, dear husband-" you adjust yourself just enough to tease his length and he softly moans, "That you enjoy your Lady wife taking control" you smirk, a new found confidence flowing through you at the look of your husband from above him.
He grabs your hips with both hands and grinds your core against him.
"My Lord" you moan, breathless, aware of what the title does to him.
"Y/N... I am warning you-" he begins to speak, using your name but you cut him off, pinning his hands above his head.
"Yes, My Lord?" You smirk at him as you lean in close, your lips ghosting his, only to pull away when he goes in for a kiss. You keep one hand holding his up as your other hand begins exploring your husbands chest, teasing him the way he was teasing you. Your finger lightly brushes against his groin before going up to his nipple, softly pinching the bud and a guttural moan escapes his mouth.
"How improper my Lord" you feign a gasp and he lets out a soft chuckle at your words, enjoying the confidence from his beautiful wife. The thrill and excitement from you pinning his hands above his head is almost too much to bare as he gets impossibly harder against your core. He couldn't dare say it aloud but the feeling of being at your mercy, a simple toy to you made his body weak. He could very easily remove his hands from your grasp and the two of you know it, and yet he does not move.
You plant hot, open mouth kisses on his chiseled chest, your arousal already coating his groin. he shudders under your touch and the wet feeling on his lower torso.
"You seem excited my Lord... Has something got you so?" you cock your head to the side, feigning an innocence and he groans at the sight of the same woman he gave her first orgasm to have him completely at her mercy.
"I could ask you the same thing, My dear" His tease came across in gravelly voice that screamed he was ready to take you here and now.
His cock sandwiched firmly between his abdomen and your wet pussy, you begin to rock your hips back and forward, sliding easily. The pressure on your clit had you whimpering and had him moaning in a deep voice.
"You are going to be the death of me" he looks deep into your eyes as you slide him inside you, the two of you moaning at the feeling. The teasing you both had endured was very clearly affecting you both, being incredibly sensitive.
He watches with hooded eyes as you bring your hand to your clit and begin to stimulate yourself. He could have sworn he died that very moment at the sight. It was not long at all until you came, and he relished in the feeling of your cunt throbbing around him.
"Y/N" He moans, moving his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.
"Do you wish to finish my Lord?" You smile sweetly.
"Yes I do, my dear" His reply full of lust, and a hint of neediness.
"Beg" The sweetness was immediately replaced with cockiness.
The command was simple but powerful as you look into his eyes, holding his jaw with your hand. He felt a shock wave of pleasure shoot through his body.
"Please..." his flustered face was incredibly cute.
"You can do better than that" you move slightly, to tease the feeling.
"Please! Oh god please" you almost came at the sound of his begs.
"You are free to do so... My Lor-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he sat up, you still on his lap and inside him. His hands grasped at your hips as he bucked up into you, his moans coming out as grunts mixed with whines. Hitting up into your g-spot mixed with his needy grunts and thrusts you came again, causing his orgasm to reach its peak, he continues to bounce you on top of him as he spills his seed deep inside of you.
Anthony falls back, his face delirious and euphoric, yours looking similar as you flop down onto his chest, his cock still buried inside you, slowly softening.
Within minutes he snaps out of it, gently pulling you off him, and onto the bed, approaching a second later with a wet towel he opens your legs and cleans you up, slightly smirking at the mess and your flustered face. after cleaning you up he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh and crawls back into bed with you.
He wraps his arm around your shoulders and you move your head onto his chest, feeling exhausted. The room was filled with your soft snores in no time at all and he places a kiss on top of your head, a smile on his face as he looks at you.
"I am incredibly lucky to have you, my beautiful wife" he whispers before softly touching your stomach.
"And you too, my beautiful baby"
~End~
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