X Chubby Reader - Blog Posts

You and Your Two Heaters~

A/n: Wrote while on my period and wanted some comfort, then I remembered that I can write and made this. Not proofread, might edit later, might not, who knows ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠). Anyways, enjoy⁠♡

You lay on your side within the warm safety of your nest on your bed, accompanied by your too big of a dog cuddled into your stomach called Lillie. She had joined you after hearing you whimpering from your cramps and after ensuring her you were in fact not injured, she cuddled right up against your lower stomach where it hurt the most. Because of this though, she ended up taking your heater of a boyfriend's side of the bed like she owned the spot. With a hand combing through her fur and the other holding up your phone, everything was peaceful even with your uterus deciding to curse you.

“Oh I see how it is,” that familiar gruff voice makes you smile as you turn your head to find your loveable boyfriend standing at the doorway looking playfully offended. “I leave for only an hour and I come back to have my spot stolen,” he huffs out as he sets a grocery bag down and strides to our bed.

“You snooze, you lose?” You slightly giggle out as you feel the thump of Lillie's tail wagging on the sheets. Lillie only nuzzles further into you as you laugh lightly at the cute sight. Your boyfriend mutters something along the lines of “you're lucky you're cute” before he gives you a small peck to your cheek and forces his way into your little nest.

“Did you generate more blankets while I was away? Cause there's definitely more in here than when I left,” he teases as he embraces you and adjusts you all. Lillie moved to lay more on top of you as you lay on your back, her head still on your stomach and providing warmth for your aching muscles.

“Not my fault if Lillie added some more,” you coo as you give your pup some head scratches while all three of you get comfortable again. You wince as a cramp hits harder than before and you're tempted to curl into yourself if it weren't for Lillie and your boyfriend helping you.

“I got ya princess, ‘m right here,” he purrs into your ear as he massages your pelvic region and places little butterfly kisses all along your face. You feel a small lick to your hand from Lillie and you smile softly at the boundless love surrounding you like a heavy blanket. You sink further into your little nest and lay happily with your dog and boyfriend as they comfort you through the pain. You get so comfortable that you doze off after a while, listening to the gentle sound of your boyfriend's heartbeat and your pup’s soft snoring while a movie plays in the background. Nothing could be better than this…except minus the period pain.

Masterlist

One shots

(Marvel One shots)

Bucky x Insecure/Self Conscious Wife Reader.

Tony Stark x Chubby Self Conscious Reader.

(Miscellaneous One Shots)

Monkey King Wukong Sun x Confident Reader.

Multi-part Fics

(OC Multi-part Fics)

Orc OC Lance x Chubby Reader.

(Part 1/?)

Mothmen OC's x Chubby Reader.

(Part 1/?)

(Part 2/?)

Selkie OC Dave x Chubby Reader.

(Part 1/?)

(Part 2/?)

(Fandom Multi-part Fics)

Fili x Bashful Chubby Reader.

(Part 1/?)

Next Fic Voting!

Hi my lovely followers I need your help! I can't decide on which of my fics to start on/do part 2 of 😅, so I would love if you guys would message me a vote of what fic/s you want me to do. The one with the most votes by April 15th will be the one I post once finished!

(I'll announce which one is the winner before working on or posting the fic!)

I've been having a bit of writers block lately sorry.

(Here's the fics-)

1. Part 3 of my Selkie fic.

2. Part 2 of my Orc fic.

3. Part 2 of my Mothmen fic.

4. Part 2 of my Fili from The Hobbit fic.

5. Would you guys want a Rakshasa stable boy fic I've been contemplating making/writing?

6. Last but not least any requests? I'll chose the first 2 aks I get along with the winner fic. I'm into a little bit of everything so ask away, and if I'm not apart of that fandom or haven't seen/watched/or read it I'll research/watch it and get as much on the character asked to make it as un oc as possible.

Thank you your votes/likes are greatly appreciated!!! ❤❤❤

Fili x Bashful Chubby Reader. 1/?

Warnings- Slight gore and Fili from the hobbit may be more oc than some readers would like. First time writing a hobbit fanfic. Sorry if I make any mistakes on places, names, roles ect.

Shout out to @findingmyselfalone for the request! Thank you, and I hope this lives up to your hopes for this fic! I apologize more than you know for how long it has taken me to write this fic and I'm so sorry for the long wait. I've been so busy and haven't had much time to work on it, but here it is and I hope you like it!

(I of course do not own The Hobbit an Unexpected Journey, or the characters from the hobbit. Nor do I own the pictures below.)

P.s. to clear up any confusion about knowing Bilbo Baggins since him and the reader where children is because the reader is half hobbit and half human while five foot is tall for a hobbit it's normal height for a human woman. I'm prolonging the meeting between Radagast and Gandalf so they're still riding/traveling through the mountains for a while before they meet and face the giant spiders.

Gandalf recruited me to join the company for my skills as a herbalist. I was reluctant and nervous at first when he explained that I would be accompanying thirteen dwarves, himself and Bilbo. I was unsure about traveling with thirteen men I've never met before and trusting them to protect me and in turn I treat their wounds and give them medical care when needed. I was undecided still because I had planned on opening up my own herbalist shop soon, but when the place I was going to buy was bought out from under me before I had enough coin, I figured a little bit of adventure would be a good distraction from this devastating disappointment.

Luckily do to having to travel long distances to get specific ingredients to treat different ailments, I'm well equipped in travel and my black female clydesdale named Midnight is used to heavy loads and long cold roads. I'm far to tall and big to ride a pony plus she's able to carry all of my supplies and my weight which is heavier than most women of my age and stature in general. I packed her up with all the essentials I'd need for basic ailment treatments such as colds and wound care so nothing gets infected. Along with other basic necessities such as changes of clothes, my bed roll, blankets, and preserved foods enough for a month's ration including breads and the ingredients and supplies to make bread if we get the time while traveling. I also have a few pounds of various smoked meats, jams, and pickled vegetables.

Even though Gandalf assured me there would be plenty of food and to not worry about bringing any of my own, I'm used to packing food just in case I want a quick meal while collecting herbs, that way I have it with me, so by now it's habit and I won't go without being prepared just in case. After a short ride I arrived at Bilbo Baggins house and tied my horse to a tree. "Stay girl I'll be back by dawn." I've been friends with the hobbit for a long while. His mother was a like a sister to my mother, and in turn we were around each other a lot.

He knows how shy I am around new people, hell it took me a year to be comfortable and confident enough to be true to myself around the sweet mannered hobbit when we where children, and my shyness hasn't improved at all over the years if anything it's worsened. I know he has to be dreading some, if not all of these dwarves arrival so I cant help but think the worst. Lost in my thoughts I didn't notice Bilbo suddenly open the door. "Oh hello miss Y/n, I hope you weren't waiting out in the cold for long. Please, hurry inside." Bilbo lead me inside with a sigh.

"Hello Bilbo do you need any help with anything for the guests." "How did you know? What is going on here, and yes there's two men here I have never meet before and they said they expected food and lots of it. So um if you want to start cooking for me in the kitchen that way I keep an eye on the uninvited guests that would be a great help, if you wouldn't mind." " No not at all that's why I asked, and what do you mean. Gandalf said he was getting people together for an adventure, he said it was going to be him, you, me and thirteen dwarves." "Thirteen?!!" "Yes? Were you not informed about this and that we where supposed to meet here?" "No, I was not informed in the slightest." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like me to leave?"

"Oh no please stay and help me with them, the two dwarves who are currently here are rading through my pantry looking for food." "Well everything I need should be in the kitchen so I'll just sneak in there and start cooking for everyone, seeing as you weren't expecting any guests tonight so you didn't get to prepare for their arrival." "Oh, thank you miss Y/n that helps a lot." "Your welcome Bilbo." As I was about to head off to the kitchen I can hear the commotion coming from the dining room, no wonder he looks so stressed sounds like there's some bears in there instead of dwarves.

I enter the kitchen missing Bilbo trying to turn away the two dwarve princes and failing, ending up with them shoving past him into the house. It took me two hours but everything was done cooking besides the rolls and a few things need to be heated up a little more or reheated. The whole time I was cooking there was all kinds of commotion coming from the other rooms I'm assuming everyone has finally arrived. As I was getting ready to bring the food out to the dining room to be served up I hear singing. I waited and listened as best I could to the merry tune until the singing was done and then started to load dishes up onto trays, there was three in total and each tray was heavy but not overwhelmingly so.

I grabbed the first tray and started heading towards the dining room, I was shaking slightly and flushed from nerves. There was conversations throughout the room but when I walked through the door all went silent and I started to shake a little harder and it felt like my face was engulfed in flames. Trying not to let their stares get to me anymore than they already have, I started putting the dishes onto the table. I quickly exited the room without a word and avoiding eye contact with everyone. Once I reached the kitchen I let out a series of shaky breaths and grabbed another tray.

'Come on Y/n it's nothing you haven't dealt with before, you can do this. Your going to have to travel with them for a few months, so you need to get used to them being around sooner rather than later.' I can hear the conversation start back up, and when I neared the dining room again I could hear that the conversation was about me, they where mentioning my name but I couldn't make out what was being said. 'Oh no not already, I was hoping they wouldn't react like this about me and my weight.' I sigh more anxious than ever and when I come in the room this time I'm startled and surprised to be bombarded with questions from the thirteen new comers.

"Your going to be traveling with us lass?" "Should a fine thing like yourself really be going on risky adventures?" "How well can you cook?" "Oh do you need help? Let me get that." "Wanna sit next to me?" Everyone was bustling around and asking so many questions I only was able to catch a few of them. The tray I was carrying was taken from my hands before I could give an answer and I was surrounded by dwarves. "I'm Fili this is Kili and that's Dwalin, Balin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, and the grump over there is Thorin." I was getting overwhelmed.

"Enough, leave her be!" Gandalf raised from his seat and looked over everyone. "Y/n You may seat next to me and Bilbo thank you for making and bringing the food out for our guests." "Yy-our welcome." I stuttered out, looking at my shoes. "There's one more tray of food, I'll get it real quick." I mumbled out turning back around towards the kitchen. "Oh no don't worry about that little one, Bombur go get the last tray of food from the kitchen for miss Y/n. Now sit child." The one dwarf I now know as Bombur hurried off to the kitchen while I took my seat with Bilbo on my left and Gandalf on his left, while on my right was the dwarf who tried to introduced me to everyone by telling me their names and pointing to them, I think he said his name was Fili?

'Yeah that sounds right.' Usually I wouldn't eat in front of new people because I was insecure but I haven't eaten since early afternoon and I'm starved, plus everyone is basically fighting over the food so they won't notice me. I loaded up my plate with some meat, roasted potatoes, a roll, and a slice of the vanilla cake I made. I kept my head down while Bombur placed the last tray in front of me, it was the tray with the cooked vegetables I was about to serve myself some of the boiled green beans when the blonde dwarf next to me gently grabbed my arm. I blushed brighter than a tomato and tried to take my arm back, while also trying to hide my face. "Here let me lass." His hold stayed as he set my arm by my side.

He was dishing up the green beans onto my plate for me. 'What's going on? What do I do?' He let go and gave me sideways glance and smirked at me, then continued to eat his own food like nothing happened. That was my first personal encounter with Fili whom I later found out was a dwarven prince. My first impression of him was that he was nice but a charmer and I wasn't looking to get hurt or humiliated, not again. After I finished my plate full of food I quietly excused myself and went into the kitchen to wash my dishes, and after I was done I went to the spare room I usually stay in when I visit Bilbo locked the door and put on my night clothes and curled up in the bed. 'Tomorrow the adventure starts.' We'll see where I end up from here.

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(Time skip to when the pack pony with almost all of the food got spooked and ran away.)

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After making camp in a dryer spot, still wet but not drenched completely from the rains. We started setting up our beds and a fire, I unpacked the persevered food I had and gave it to Bofur to make dinner for us all with. I took my bed roll and a change of clothes out of the large saddle pack and set the bed roll and clothes in a spot more secluded from everyone but still having light to see from the fire raging in the middle of camp. Now that my bed is set up I walk Midnight to the field with the ponies to graze and rest, then I can change into my dry clothes once I'm away from the rambunctious dwarves. ' I'm so tired, I used to find their loud songs and jokes amusing and pleasant but not when I haven't been able to get more than three hours of sleep in the last five days, I'm tempted to set up my bed roll by the field Midnight will be in, at least she'll be quieter than that lot.'

When I was done setting up my bed roll and finished unpacking Midnignt along with taking her saddle and blanket off, I heard dinner was ready. I ate my share of what I assumed was a type of stew with a side of sliced bread and jam spread on it. When I finished I grabbed my change of clothes and told Bilbo where I was heading and he asked me if I could take Fili and Kili their food so he could eat before there wasn't any left since I had already I ate, and of course I accepted. I simply tied Midnights lead to my waist, tucked my clothes I'm my sachel and carried a bowl in each hand and walked towards the field and pens. When I got there however both brothers where pacing and looked worried. "What's wrong?" I questioned softly.

"Oh um nothing really." Fili grumbled. "Where supposed to be watching over the ponies, and problem is there's supposed to be sixteen." Kili said quickly "But there's only fourteen." Fili sighed. "But don't worry we'll find out what happened to them and get them back." Kili finished. "What?" I gasped, almost dropping there food. Shoving the bowls of food into their chests I turn around and start taking Midnight back to camp. "Wait lass, don't go telling everyone the ponies are missing just yet, I'll get the ponies back no worries. Me and Kili saw a fire farther up into the valley, were certain that's where the ponies are."

I walked closer to camp with Midnight in tow, Fili grabbed my arm "Please lass I'm begging ya." I shook his arm off and he gave me a hurt look while I just walked her to a tree far away from the others so she would be safe. "I wasn't going to, but I think it would be a better idea to have everyone confronting these thieves." I muttered quietly. "Yes but Thorin would have my head over this, I'd never hear the end of it." "Y/n? Y/n? Are you still over here?" Bilbo shouted. "Oi she is." Kili yelled back. Soon Bilbo came out of the treeline. "Why didn't you come back to the camp? Are you trying to find herbs up here or are those two keeping you?"

"Oh good, as our official burglar, Daisy and Bungo are missing. We thought you might want to look into it." "Wait, um okay. Well it looks like something big uprooted these trees. Something very big and possibly quite dangerous." Bilbo said sounding distraught and startled. "Hey there's a light. Over here." He waved me and Kili over. "Stay down." Kili whispered. As we neared the source of the light we can hear laughter and some sort of being talking. "What, what is it?" Bilbo asked. "Trolls." was all Kili growled out making us all fall silent. Kili jumped over the fallen tree we where behind and started running towards the light source Fili ran after him, so I followed.

Bilbo went back and retrived their food they left behind before catching up to us but before he reached us a troll came out of the treeline carrying two of the ponies. Fili grabs me and pushes me down further behind the fallen tree we where hiding behind. Bilbo and Kili are behind their own tree's not to far away. The troll was walking towards where the fire is holding the two ponies under his arms. "Well that confirms that it was in fact a troll who stole our ponies, now how do we get them back undetected." Fili whispers. "He has Minty." Bilbo hisses. The troll stops and looks at our log.

Fili grabs me around my waist his hand on my soft belly and pulls me close, I'm basically nestled into his side trying to hide from the troll. I feel like my face is on fire, I gulp and try to wiggle away. "Stay still lass or he'll find us." He hissed barely audible at me. Trying to be quiet, when he looked at me and noticed my embarrassment and discomfort and yet he just smirked slightly. The troll lost interest and walked away out of site with the ponies. The coast was clear but Fili hadn't let go. He stands up taking me with him, his hand falling to my hip and giving it a slight squeeze. Bilbo clears his throat making Fili let go of me, but my blush won't fade. I have my head lowered and fiddle with my hands trying to look anywhere but the men around me, thoroughly embarrassed.

"We have to do something." Bilbo whisper shouts. "Yes you should, Mountian trolls are slow and stupid, and your so small they will never see you. It's perfectly safe, and we'll be right behind you." Kili announced clapping Bilbo on his back. "Yes and if you run into trouble whoot twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl." Fili finished pushing Bilbo towards the path to the trolls campsite. Fili turns around facing me and says. "Okay Y/n I need you to stay put right here so you can go and alert the others in case we need help, and if and when you do I want you to get your horse and take off for cover a ways away from camp staying safe until we come find you." "But I can help. I can stay hidden and safe but have your backs as well by shooting my bow from behind the cover of the tree's." I argued quietly and meekly. "Y/n lass I'd rather you be far away from the trolls, and the fight between us and them if it comes to that, so there's no way you can possibly get hurt."

"Alright that's fine I guess. When do I know if I need to get the others for help?" I questioned softly and unsurely. "We'll yell for ya to go get Thorin and everyone if it turns bad." Kili said. "Now go and get your horse then come back to us but don't get to close, only close enough to hear us yell and then ride your horse as fast as possible to Thorin and the company. After that you need to go hide away at a safe distance where the trolls won't be able to find ya. Got that lass?" Fili finished giving me a stern and slightly concerned look. "Yeah." I sighed out and turned around and started walking back towards Midnight.

'I'll help by getting Thorin and the company, but I won't go run and hide. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to come on this adventure.' Set with my decision I started to plan what I was going to do to help if a fight breaks out. 'I can't exactly run in there with a sword and start swinging like the dwarves will. I'm not skilled in swordsmanship at all, but I can shoot my bow and arrow and almost never miss.' 'If I can get on top of one of the ridges or hills of the valley close and above the trolls I'll have the best shot and chance of doing any real damage to the massive creatures.' I made sure the remaining ponies where saddled and loaded up with all their supplies and that they all had leads on so if need be I can attach them six together and then attach six to each side of Midnight and run them and myself to a safer location.

Soon after I retrieved Midnight I lead her back up to camp and packed everything up and saddled her and her packs up and was almost unnoticed but of course Thorin saw and walked up to me. "What are you doing lass? Shouldn't she be out in the pasture with the ponies grazing and resting. Unless there's something wrong that your not telling me?" "Trolls took four of the ponies and now Bilbo is trying to get them back from them undetected and Fili and Kili are waiting by in case he needs help."

I squeaked out so quickly I was stammering over my words and jumbling them together. Thorin let out a deep sigh pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Well where just going to have to go and see if they do indeed need our help taking down these trolls, which I'm sure they do by now." "Come everyone and bring your weapons we have some trolls to slay tonight!" He yelled with confidence and conviction in his voice not a worry in the world about defeating these trolls.

After they raced of out of sight I finished packing up Midnight and rode towards the trolls camp, going a longer way to get up on a hill behind them. When I reached them and had a clear view it was a terrifying scene. The trolls had every single dwarf in burlap sacks up to there neck some where in a pile while the others where tied onto a roasting stick above a huge campfire being turned by one of the trolls. Bilbo was in a sack as well but he was standing and talking to the trolls. 'This is bad, very bad. What am I supposed to do now? Maybe I can shoot and aim for there eyes and redirect their attention towards me.'

I aim for the troll who started yelling something all Bilbo as he stomps towards him and the dwarves. 'Here goes nothing.' It was a perfect shot the arrow pierced the trolls eye. "Yes!" I whispered excitedly. The trolls screaming stumbling back holding his hands over his eye, the other two race up and huddle around him trying to help the other troll.

The trolls are still distracted but I know it won't last long so I shoot another arrow into the side of another trolls eye, he screams in agony and cups his face like the first. The third troll looks towards me on the hill yells something unintelligible and launges towards my hiding spot I shoot fast and miss. I shoot again and it's another miss he's almost reached me I shoot one last time and this time I puntured one of his eyes so he's blinded and distracted as well.

The third troll although partially blind is still reaching and climbing towards me. 'Time to go!' I hop on Midnight and I'm about to race off towards the other side of the hill when I hear a shout "The dawn will take you all!" 'Gandalf?' I whip my head around trying to find where he is or at least where the voice was coming from. The giant boulder to my left cracks in half and the sun from dawn shines onto the trolls turning them into stone I look on top of the boulder and there stands Gandalf. The dwarves all shout with joy at being saved.

I smile and look down towards the dwarves and start taking Midnight down the hill towards them. Once I'm down I dismount and started untying the dwarves on the ground while Gnadalf puts out the fire and unties Bilbo they start untying the dwarves on the make shift roasting stick.

Each dwarf said their thanks as I finished untying them one by one until the last dwarf to untie was Fili I was hoping one of the others would untie him because I already know he's going to be angry with me for staying and fighting in my own way when he told me to leave and hide. "So lass you where the one shooting the arrows I presume?" "Yes." I mumbled softly while untying him. Once he was free he stood with a frown on his face and signed out his nose. "I recall telling you to stay as far away as possible." "You did but if it's in my power to help then I will." I said softly but with conviction in my voice.

"That's fine and understandable when your life wasn't in danger that troll almost reached you, if Gandalf arrived and cracked that boulder even a minute later who knows what that troll would have done Y/n! You could have been killed!" His voice slowly raised and everyone was discretely listening in and watching. "So could have all of you. I'm fine and so is everyone else, I can handle myself if you didn't notice." I whisper shouted with my face heating from anger and embarrassment of being treated like I'm some foolish child. I walked off towards Midnight.

"Gandalf I'm going to retrieve the rest of the ponies I'll be back please await my return." I said meekly. "Of course child we'll be here but then we need to head off again." "Figured as such." I rode off upset and frustrated. 'I know I put myself in danger but I had no choice I wasn't going to stand by while they where possibly getting killed, or worse eaten. I thought Fili would have been at least a little bit nicer or happy that I could protect myself.' I sigh sadly and break midnight into a gallup from a trot. It didn't take me very long to reach the ponies I attach six to each side like I prepped for and start trotting them back towards everyone at the trolls camp. When I arrived Fili and Thorin where arguing.

"Thats just isn't how you go about things, I raised you better than that, and you know how to start a courtship! If your interested then start one instead of trying to boss your interest around it won't work you'll only drive them further away." Fili was about to retort but when I can into view all went silent and instead he stormed off towards the other ponies that where stolen. 'What was all that about? Why was Thorin lecturing Fili on courting? Does he have a love interest?'

My sour mood worsened slightly. 'I wonder who the lucky lady is? I knew I shouldn't have fathomed the idea of us two, it was just a silly crush there's no way a prince would be interested in a half blooded hobbit if how he treats Bilbo is any indication of how much he likes us hobbits.'

"Trolls can't travel in day light so there must be a cave near by." Gandalf announced. 'I guess that's where we'll be heading.' We rode for a short ways and where nearing the trolls cave. Once we arrived at the trolls cave the dwarves tied the ponies while I tied Midnight so they won't wander or get spooked off. Once they entered the cave a pungent smell wafted up reaching my nose from outside where I'm watching over the ponies and Midnight even from afar it was horrendous. "Whats that stinch?" One of the dwarves asks speaking my exact thoughts. "Its a troll horde, be careful what you touch." There conversation dwindles down and the further they go the less I can hear.

"Well girl I guess it's just you me and the ponies." I say as I reach into a pack and start checking her over one of her shoes came undone and her hooves need to be trimmed down some I haven't had much of a chance to tend to her hooves lately. 'Sorry my sweet girl.' I'll check the ponies hooves once I'm done with Midnight though they don't have shoes on so I'm assuming as long as there's no cracks or splitters anywhere on them they shouldn't need any work done like the annual trimming Midnight requires. I gave her some grain as a snack before I start working on her feet so she doesn't get moody with me.

By the time I trimmed and put new shoes on all four of Midnights hooves they dwarves emerged from the cave Thorin first looking incredibly angry and then the others followed last to come out of the cave was Bilbo carrying what looked with him holding it a half sword but I'm certain that its a dagger. 'Strange Bilbo would never use a weapon or even think of it, I wonder why he has that?' I'll check the ponies hooves this evening when there put in a pasture to eat and rest. "Alright let's head off where wasting daylight!" Thorin shouted. I pet Midnight as I untie her and put her reigns on packing the lead away, I then mount her stearing her towards the others whom have just finished mounting their ponies and horse as well.

Gandalf and Thorin lead the way from the cave back towards our route. I stayed behind the others still upset from what happened and what I over heard earlier that morning. We rode for hours until it was almost dusk and then Gandalf called for us to setup camp I walked Midnight to the makeshift enclosed pasture after I unloaded her of her packs and saddle except two with my change of clothes the necessities to bathe and my equipment for the ponies hooves at the stream near the pasture. I also left her saddle blanket on because it's been getting really chilly at night even though her breed is built for the cold I still worry. After she was settled with the others I went and started to check everyone's hooves before I'd bathe, they tolerated me messing with there feet well and only the two pack ponies needed some splitters filed away which only took a moment.

"Y/n I'm plenty capable of watching over the ponies and Midnight despite what happened last night, should rest lo-lass." He stuttered and a blush tinted his ears. 'What was he about to say? Sounded like he was going to call me love. But that can't be true.' I flushed slightly. "I know you can but, I wanted to check everyone's hooves and bathe by the creek." The last words coming out no louder than a meek whisper, though Fili clearly had no trouble hearing what I said by the full flush crawling up his face. He coughed "Well um alright I'll go back to camp and make sure no one bothers you, I'll come check on you periodically by calling your name from behind the tree cover over there alright, but if you don't respond back I'm coming over here and looking for ya alright lass?"

"Yeah that's fine." I squeaked out, avoiding his gaze and grabbing the packs off of Midnight as Fili walked back towards camp once he's out of view I lay a blanket down and wrap another around my shoulders and strip of my clothing using the cloth and soap I have to wash up the waters to cold to be submerged in the water fully or even partly. ' It feels so good to scrub all the dirt, sweat, and grime off its been awhile since I last bathed I know I must reak.' I sigh blissfully even though I'm freezing at least I'm getting clean.

I scrubbed my entire body except the hard to reach parts on my back, I first pulled any debris out of my hair and comes through it with my hands then I had to bend down my belly squishing up against my chubby thighs in order to wash the dirt and grease out of my hair in the creek. The bubbling creek was soothing and calming even as cold as it was, I looked around my surroundings again before dipping my whole head under to wash all the soap away. I repeated this several times until I was certain my hair was grease and grime free, yanking my head up the last time making my hair fling back I gasped in a breathe winded from the cold water.

I screamed and covered myself when a hand landed on my bare shoulder only my legs and thighs exposed until I curled them under myself and curled up into myself slightly trying to hide myself. "Y/n lass, calm down it's just me Fili I called three times and you didn't answer I didn't mean to frighten ya but you frightened me by not answering." I peaked up at Fili my face and chest flushed. I mumbled a few incoherent words, not be able to respond because of my embarrassment. 'I can't believe Fili just saw me so exposed like this, he's probably disappointed with what he saw.' "If your done washing up, and once your finished getting dressed as an apology for frightening you and be so hard on ya this morning, I'll braid your hair for you once you are done." He mumbled out with his own embarrassment showing on his face though he had a dazed expression. He walked a ways a away so I could have some privacy.

I dressed quickly I was finished bathing anyways though the interuption destroyed the calmness I was feeling it was now replaced with anxious embarrassment my heart is racing uncontrollably and my hands are shaking as I dress and put my socks and shoes on. 'I can't believe I didn't hear him call not even once, I knew he would check up on me why didn't I listen for him, it's my fault.' I packed up the dirty clothes and hung up the wet blankets so they could dry and I'll wash the clothes later. I walked towards the middle of the field where Fili was sitting with his back facing me playing with something in his hands, with the last dry blanket I had was wrapped around my shoulders.

"You never did answer if you would accept my apology by braiding your hair for you. You don't have to accept Y/n if you don't want to." "No it's alright I accept your apology and if you want I wouldn't mind you braiding my hair." I mumbled looking at my feet on dew damp grass. "Well then sit down in front of me lass." I sat down partly on my blanket as to not sit on the damp grass and get my clothes damp. I handed him my brush and tie, pulling the blanket tighter around myself still cold and embarrassed. He brushed through my hair and combed through it with his fingers if I didn't know any better I'd say he was playing with my hair, either way it felt nice I was leaning into his touch subconsciously.

He started to braid my hair in an interact design putting in small colored ribbons and dwarven embroidered metal clasps here and there. When he finished I was disappointed because I was enjoying the affectionate jester and knew that this would likely not happen again. "There you go, all done. Now before we go back to camp and get some rest since it's Kili's turn to watch over the ponies for sure by now. Let's eat, I know you left before the food was ready and if I didn't bring any down here away from those lot there wouldn't even be a drop of food left for ya."

He finished lifting up his spare coat that was lying on the grass showing two big bowls of stew and a whole loaf of bread. I turned around so I was facing Fili and just looking at the food made me realise how hungry I really was, my stomach growled loudly. I blushed and put my head down muttering a small "Thank you." "Your welcome Y/n but it was no problem really the hard part was sneaking a whole loaf of bread away." He said with a hearty chuckle handing me the stew after he tore the loaf of bread in half and set it in the bowl. He dug right in, I looked at him with appreciation and a goofy smile on my face and then started eating. 'Today wasn't so bad after all.'

Mothmen OC's x Chubby Reader. (Part 1/?)

(Warning- Language)

Hank Meyer - Black and orange mothman/humanoid moth, he's more black than orange and has stripes and specks on his wings thickly outlined in obsidion black. His hair is an untamed pile of dark/burnt orange curly fluff that dips just below his shoulders and his antennas are also fluffy but striped orange and black. Around his neck and down his collarbone ending at his sternum is obsidion fluff his back and his four arms also have the same colored fluff running down them, while the rest of his body is covered in the same colored fluff as his hair, and his fingernails are small black claws. His eyes are oval shaped and are a deep honey brown color rimmed with thick eyelashes, besides his mandible his face is mostly human looking with thinner fluff surrounding it. He's caring even though he's lazy and always tired even at night when he's supposed to be more active and go to work. He will more than likely be found sleeping somewhere or eating sweets anything from fruit to cookies and cake, all that matters if it has some form of sugar in it. He is more than just a bit of a couch potato unless motivated. Underneath his lazy exterior he's very smart and he's an architect who works odd painting and remodeling jobs, mostly he's furnishing and decorating places, anything to businesses to houses.

Mason Lynch - Blue and black mothman/humaniod moth, he's more blue then black (an opposite in color patches compared to Hank) his wings color ranges from dark navy blue on the top of his wings to blue to baby blue with white and black specks spread throughout. His fluffy antennas are blue and black rimmed. His hair while fluffy isn't as untamed as Hunks and is long running down to his hips he leaves it in a ponytail or in a braid while his hair is an almost white blue there is small stripes/patches of black and dark blue like unfinished highlights. His fluff going down his neck to his sternum and down his back and arms is in between blue and baby blue with black and white spots running throughout and the rest of his body is a darker grey almost black color. His eyes are oval shaped and are a dark blue color, while his face is covered in very pale nearly white coloured thin fluffy hair. He is creative, calm and collected and he likes to draw, paint, sketch and cook, he assists Hunk in painting jobs though his actual job is as a secondary baker at the Sugar Rose Cafe.

Alright the corner of 424 main street and Eastwood, so almost there. I called yesterday evening about an apartment for rent with two roommates but I get a fully furnished bedroom and bathroom to myself and it's only five hundred dollars a month utilities included and I buy my own food of course but thats still cheaper than fuck.

Five hundred dollars is how much my current electric, gas, and water bill is while my rent is seven hundred dollars and that doesn't include other costs such as my phonebill or gas for going to and fro from work, and money is tight right now with the shitty job of being a waitress and working twelve hour shifts with hardly any tips and working everyday of the week is running me into the ground and if I have to here anymore shit from customers I'm going to end up losing my job from blowing up at someone.

It doesn't help that my landlord is an asshole who's threatening to evict me because I was two days late on rent last month and said if I was late again I'll be kicked out so I packed my shit after that so if I need to move fast I can. So of fucking course when I saw the ad and called it was still available I'm rushing to check it out.

The guy I talked to said his name was Mason and that I could come by to check out the place the next morning if I didn't care about having two male roommates which is fine by me I know self defense, I might be bigger than others but that doesn't mean I don't and or can't kick someones ass if I need to, I went to self defense classes for a reason.

It's already 11 a.m. and neither of the numbers of my possible roommates have picked up the phone. Fuck this seemed to good to be true but I'll still go and nock on the door and if it's a prank I'll just have to find a different place. Alright 424 this should be it unless I'm on the wrong street because this is a fucking condo complex not an apartment complex. Oh shit, got fucking damnit I'm I lost this isn't the right address, is it?

Fuck it I'm going to pull over and look up the address directions again because there's no way in hell this gigantic black tinted building has a room let alone an entire appartment for less than a few grand a month if not more, hell they'd probably charge seven hundred dollars just for parking my car here for the day.

"Fuck!" my phone ringing all of sudden scared the shit out of me I didn't expect that, oh crap it's the guys about the apartment. "Hello?" "Hello miss y/n this is Mason I apologize about missing your call, I slept pass my alarm I set in order to met with you but if your still interested your welcome to come by and check out the place." "Um yeah about that are you sure the address you listed was correct because if it was I'm outside the building?"

"If your at the corner of Main street and Eastwood, building 424 then yes your here, if you would like I can come down to meet you in the lobby, but I'm afraid I can't come meet you outside because my eyes are extremely light sensitive the passcoad for the door is 892640, I'll stay on the phone just in case you forget the code." "Oh okay that sounds good, but are you sure the rent cost you listed was correct in the ad because it said only five hundred dollars a month for everything included, and this is a condo complex and the price doesn't seem right?" I ask as I walk up to the building after parking.

"Yes that price is correct and yes it is a condo the lobby and the outside of the building make everything seem much more luxurious than it really is, but we can talk more about the details in the lobby if you don't chose to runaway once you see me." "I'm sure you look fine and I'm not easily scared who know you might be freaked out about how I look, also this is such a good deal I'm not sure I could pass it up if I wanted to, but it's so little money for what I'm assuming is a beautiful apartment, though anything's beautiful compared to my current rat hole. Oh and I'm outside the door would you mind telling me that code again."

He chuckles softly and replies. "I highly doubt I would be frightened of you, and I certainly hope your right about not getting scared of me when you see me, and that you like the apartment. Oh and the code is 892640 sorry about that and I'm the only one in the lobby currently. I stand out like a sore thumb, you can't miss me."

"Alright here goes nothing, I guess." I mutter as I put the pin in and open the lobby door. Holy shit I barley walked through the door and this place is huge the rooms lit up a soft white from a giant crystal chandelier hanging from the roof. This place is beautiful the walls are white marbeled with gold, the elevators are black and the chairs are black velvet recliners with a huge glass coffee table with black metal legs in the shape of trees, black marbled streaks running through the glass and an beautiful array of different colors of roses.

Out of everything else in the lobby the thing that stood out the most was the mothman who was seated by the roses he was made up of mostly different shades of blue with blacks, whites, and greys running throughout his body and wings, he was dressed in a white button down and black dress pants and shoes. Holy shit he's gorgeous, who would be scared of him he should be a fucking model with how stunning he is if he isn't one already.

He sighed through the phone. "I'm sorry you can leave if you'd like I wouldn't blame you." I hang up and his face drops when the call disconnects but then turns to surprise when I walk up and stand right in front of him. "Hi I'm y/n, it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person." I extend my hand out for him to shake. He blinks slowly, his eyes are huge and look like one giant dark blue pupil no wonder he can't go outside right now with how bright it is would probably give him a killer migraine or maybe even blind him.

He slowly reaches out and shakes my hand. Oh wow his fur or hair I'm not sure which but it's so soft. "Mason as you know already and the pleasure is mine miss y/n, thank you for coming if you like we can discuss the apartment down here or up in the apartment if you would like to see it right away. You sounded like your in a hurry to move in, not that it's any of my business but I'd like you to know that if you want the apartment and don't mind my appearance or my roommates whose appearance is like mine just different colors, then the rooms all yours."

"Oh yeah that sounds great and yeah I'm trying to move as soon as possible my current land lord wanted to kick me out the month prior for a being late on rent by two days, and my check was short this week for excuse my language but for shit I didn't even do so yeah I need to move because I won't be able to make the full payment and he will refuse anything less than a full payment the exact day it's due. So yeah that sounds great, and we can discuss it on the way to the up to the apartment or down here wherever is fine."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that, I didn't mean to pry and it's fine you can talk however you like and your landlord sounds like a complete ass by the way no wonder you want to move, and yes on the way up sounds great follow me please oh and just another apology for how my roommate may react to you we don't have many friends because of our appearances and the fact we're nocturnal, epically not human ones. Not that there's anything wrong with humans not at all its just they just don't like us or are scared of us."

He stumbling over his words thinking he's somehow offended me how sweet, he's been nothing but kind so far. We walk to one of the black elevators and step inside he hits the sixth floor out of ten. "It's fine don't worry about it and I'm sure just like I was right about you he'll be wonderful and I'm so sorry I must have messed up your whole sleep schedule today." "

Oh no worries it was no problem really plus I had yesterday and today off work so it really no trouble. Though if my roomate wakes up even though I think he could sleep through a tornado and not know it, but just in case he does wake I'm sorry in advance, because he will most likely not be wearing anything other than his boxers despite how much I tell him to put some pants on or he'll be staring and then freak out and try to hug you or ask you a bunch of ridiculous questions. He's over affectionate and excitable if you ask me."

If his hand was that soft, a hug from either one of them would be like hugging a cloud. I certainly wouldn't mind a hug after the stressful week I've had, and he's been so nice. "Well he sounds like fun in sure we'll get along just fine." With that said the elevator dinged and the doors opened to the sixth floor.

Male Orc OC x Chubby Reader. (Part 1/?)

(Description- His name is Lance Riebeau. He is 25 years old and co-owns and works in the Sugar Rose Cafe which is also split into a deli and bar in the afternoon with the reader. When he's not going on raids or hunting for meat for the deli with his hunting party, he's relaxing in his secluded cabin. He is 7 foot 8, has a scar running across his left cheek bone down to his chin and has another scar that looks like lightening on the right side of his face from his hairline down to his collarbone, other non visible scars along his stomach, back and legs from various fights or mishaps. Has pale grey eyes and dark grayish green skin. Has gold bands on each tusk. Long black hair usually done in a bunch of small braids with many metal and wooden beads, along with colored ribbons with orcish symbols painted on them, some faded others bright and vibrant spread throughout his hair. Black clan/tribe arm sleeve tattoos with scars of different shapes and sizes running down his arms along with the tatoos. Wears plain dark colored t-shirts and jeans with black steel toe boots, though when on raids will wear metal armour with his war axe strapped to his side, and light leather armour with his hunting bow and knife when going on hunts. His personality is gruff, off putting, rude and irritbale around new people or people he doesn't like, though around his hunting party and the reader he's funny, caring, calm, and even sweet. Modern AU but in a small city up in the mountains.)

(Warnings- Language)

"Lance!" Damnit where is he, he knew we had a delivery for new bakery equipment today. "What is it now?" Was Lances gruff reply behind me. "Shit, I've told not to sneak up on me." I say I hold my hand over my racing heart, I swear that man wants me to have a heart attack. "I'm gonna need some help carring in the new equipment for the bakery, the truck is outside and the workers are struggling to bring in the new display case and ovens, all the other stuff was small or at least smaller and less heavy and was easier for me and the two delivery guys to bring in so I need your help with this."

"Lazy fucks just don't want to work or they would have brought more men and wouldn't have asked for your help to carry the shit in when it's their job, they're going to break shit and there's no "we" you'll hurt yourself trying to lift any of that onto the dollies I'll do it just stay here and guide me and those stupid fucks through the door." I huff and puff out my chest. "For one they didn't ask for my help I offered to help and for two I can lift and do things just fine asshat." Shithead acts like I can't do anything. Sighing Lance responds. "I'm aware you can I'm just saying you shouldn't have to and I don't want you to hurt yourself, especially since these fucks get paid for this."

"Fine your forgiven, just hurry because the cafe is still open for coffee and other drinks and the bar and deli is supposed to open at 3 p.m. so we have two hours to unload and setup this shit and then I still have to bake the breads, I'm just glad we cleaned and got the old equipment out two days ago so it's not in the way and we don't have waste time cleaning up the kitchen first. Though having the bakery down for much longer can't happen because where already losing money from it a lot of people come here for our baked goods and sweets." "I know, and yes the sooner it's back up and running the better it is for us." he says with a chuckle.

I open the doors as wide as they can go and put the legs down to keep them open while lance walks up to the two delivery men who are currently struggling to lift one of the ovens. I laugh, while the two men struggle and fail the lift one oven lance lifts its up without a problem and efficiently startling and pissing the guys off. He's already walking back with it without one of the dollies. Damn he's strong. "Lance careful and all of those go on the right where the old ovens used to be, and weather or not you like it your going to have to set the display case on the four dollies so it doesn't collapse on itself and I'm helping to bring it in."

"Tell those two to be careful I know what I'm doing and I can push a dollie with each hand, you tell us where how to go in order to place it up front." He has a point someone needs to tell them where to place the heavy ass thing and direct them into place. "But I want to help I feel like I'm not doing anything." I frown. "You already helped those lazy fucks while I was setting the bar up for this evening, you've done enough because after everything is setup your going to need to prep all the dough and other things for the sweets and bread for the deli right away for today's reopening of the deli and tomorrow's reopening of the bakery and cafe without just drinks. We both know it's going to be packed so your going to have a lot of work to do little baker. So let me do this alright." He says as he pats my head ruffling my hair.

"Hey I have most of it already prepped I just need to bake it I've been here since 2 a.m. instead of 5 a.m. like normal!" He shakes his head and growls at me. "Then you defiantly need a break you didn't tell me that, you said you were going to open the deli back up today while I work the bar tonight, thats to much work for you to be doing by yourself, your over working and not taking proper care of yourself y/n!" "How else was I going to open the deli today without having the bread dough prepped already?"

He snarls at me. "Your taking the day off after you finish baking the bread, I don't care if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you home and then tie you to your bed if that's what it's going to take to get your stubborn ass to rest then so be it." "Fuck off I already announced that the deli would be open today yesterday, so I can't just not work we own the damned place and need it up and running. I already have everything prepped for the deli I even swept and cleaned the counters and tables off." "Good then you can have the rest of the day off to eat and sleep because I came in at 11 a.m. so I'll handle the deli and bar and we have staff for cleaning up that wasn't your job, but right now I'm going to finish unloading the truck and when I'm done we'll talk more alright?"

He snarling I don't know why he's so pissed it's not like I haven't done something like this before and in my defense I was excited and couldn't sleep anyways so might as well get to work on shit that needs to be done rather than having to rush everything this evening after closing and then having a busy day tomorrow as well. Though I am tired, sore and hungry as hell now that I think about it I haven't eaten anything but small bowl of cereal and a cup of (coffee, tea, hot cocoa ect.) before leaving the house and coming straight here so some late lunch is defiantly needed because I'm a little light headed.

Thirty minutes later after our little argument everything was in place and ready to go. "That was easy next time just tell me right away and those men where useless, they barley could push the ass end of the display case." He scoffed. "Now little lady your going to eat and then bake some bread and afterwards I'm taking your ass home and your going to relax for the rest of the day."

"Lance thank you for caring about my well being but I'll be fine." I say as I stand up off my chair to head towards the kitchen when I get so dizzy I stumble and almost fall, Lance catches me before I can. "Alright that's it fuck this I'll call Mason and tell him he's needed to bake for the deli because I'm taking you home now, no more bitching you know as well as I do that you over did it." As soon as he finished taling he swung me up over his shoulder, blushing I yell. "What the hell alright I'll go home and rest, but put me down right now damnit." He just growls and walks out the front door, people are staring because of all the commotion. He's in deep shit now.

@crystallstaircase

Selkie OC Dave x Chubby Reader.

(2/?)

(Warning- Language and slight violence.)

I sigh as I close the door to the apartment/house and start driving to Tanya's house (same as before if it's your name sorry and just change it) it's a good thing he's asked me to drive him to the skanks house from our trips to the beach nearby because its time to get my seal pups pelt back.

He honestly looks miserable right now and I can't tell if it's from heartbreak or from his pelt being stolen, probably from both. Damnit Dave I knew that bitch was no good for you. Fuck now I have to go and get his pelt back from that pile of shit and if she burned it I swear to god I'll be going to prison because that bitch will be dead. (Bluff though she would be beaten up pretty badly.)

Who the fuck would even do that taking a selkies pelt is equivalent to taking a part of their soul away from them. Shit it's no wonder mostly all so called "monsters" try to stay out of sight and away from people or just hide all the time, except for the elves and orcs, but when they do come out of hiding shit like this happens to them.

Oh shit almost passed the house. After getting out of the car and knocking on the front door I take a step back. "Hello- Oh, what the fuck do you want you fat cow!?" "Oh real original you bleach blonde tramp, and what I want if my best fucking friends pelt back that you stole from him the other night you whore!"

"Oh really that freak wants his pelt back? Aw poor baby, hah no way in hell would I give it to you, in fact I'm gonna sell it you can get a lot of money for seal skin." Well there goes being civil with this bitch. I punch her once and she hits the floor out cold. "Well looks like I was more pissed off than I thought."

After thirty minutes of searching through this crusty bitches house I found his pelt in her dirty clothes. Nasty looks like I also need to buy Lysol now, who knows what fucking STD's are on this now. But I least I got what I came for and I got to punch the bitch.

Now to get some groceries and an air mattress for Davey. I can't wait to see the look on his face once I give him his pelt back, after it's washed of course because the Lysol might irritate Dave's skin. After getting all the necessities including some fish from Wal-Mart it's time to head home, I'll get him some fresh fish from the market later right now I just am in a rush to get home I've already been gone for almost an hour and a half.

After unlocking the door I can see that Dave is still asleep. Poor guy had a rougher night then I thought. After bringing all the groceries in and tripping twice once over his shoes and the seconds time over the edge of coffee table without somehow waking Dave meant he was going to be out for awhile. Oh well this is the perfect opportunity to wash his pelt in the bathtub with super hot water and dawn dish soap.

Once I was done with washing his pelt which mind you it took 20 minutes to do because I was soaking it in the super hot water to make sure any germs where dead for good, I hung it up on the towel rack behind the bathroom door to cool down from it's hot soak in the tub.

Seeing as it's 10:30 a.m. decided a nice way to wake Davey up was to his favorite meal, lemon zest fish fillets for a late breakfast. I better make all twelve fillets I bought, he really likes fish and could win an eating competition if the food was fish or a fish dish of anykind. Halfway through cooking them though I heard him timidly ask me.

"When did you get home I would've helped you carry everything in, also you didn't have to cook for breakfast either, I could have or at least helped you prepare it." "Its fine sweetheart you where sleeping pretty hard and gods know you need it and I'm tougher than I look, also the food will be done soon if you want to take a seat at the table." "Okay but I'm going to set the table and clean the dishes once where done, your doing so much for me already I need to help out."

"Alright I won't argue but don't do to much we don't need you getting sick." I say as I serve the food which was lemon zest tilapia and some mashed potatoes and green beans. "What happened to your hand!?" he says as he grabs my right hand. Oh shit there is some bruising form punching that half plastic self centered bitch. "Um.. Well about that I'll tell you after we eat some breakfast. (He can eat fish for evey meal without caring or getting tired of it though he doesn't, all the time.)

"Alright but I don't like that your hurt." "It's fine it doesn't even hurt really, now shush up and eat." That was a lie after he grabbed it not only did my heart start racing but my hand is now throbbing in pain.

After where done eating which I can say was pretty fast I practically inhaled the food along with Dave when I usually take my time but I'm so excited to see how he reacts when I give him his pelt back that I couldn't help it, and well not eating anything all morning certainly didn't help matters any.

"Okay I'm gonna put the dishes in the sink and I want you to tell me how you hurt you hand." "Fine but first I have to go get something so just sit back down I'll be right back." I say as I run down the hall and enter the bathroom after grabbing the silky soft and smooth pelt I rush back towards the kitchen and stop in just before the door way.

"Okay Dave close your eyes." "Okay but y/n you didn't need to get me a anything else." Waking to a stop a few feet in front of him. "Yeah yeah, I know but I didn't get you anything I'm simply returning something." "What?" I have the pelt folded up in my outstretched hands. "I got your pelt back for your from your bitch of an ex this morning, thats how I hurt my hand but I couldn't tell you without ruining the surprise!"

I place his pelt in his lap and the reaction I got was certainly not the reaction I was expecting. First he smiled then he blushed so hard his face looked like a tomato, and then he passed out. "Dave!!??"

Just wanted to say i’m in love with all of your posts 🫂!! I would like to request a friends with benefits relationship with our beloved monster trio?? How that would turn out in the long run

Feel free to ignore, have a good day love <33

A/N: Omg ur my first request I’m crying tysm ;,) of course I gotchu and thank u!! Hopefully you enjoy:3 I got carried away so it’s kinda long sjsjsj

(NSFW/SFW) Having A Friends With Benefits Relationship with the Monster Trio (Fem! Reader)

CW: SO MUCH FLUFF PLS, Mentions of sex, FWB, Friends to Lover(s), a bit of angst, aaanddddd yeah lol.

Luffy

Personally I believe this would have only happened if you knew Luffy before the two years and if you already had a bit of a touchy friendship with him.

Also this FWB started once he turned 19 not when he was 17 lol

How it started:

Luffy was never interested in having sex nor cared, but after turning 18 & then now 19 a bit of his libido began to liven up more. You and Luffy always had a good opened friendship so it didn’t surprise you that one night when you both were sneaking more food to eat in his room you had a deep conversation about relationships, that then turned to you both admitting your never kissed someone, then eventually you both became each others first kiss, first oral sex experience, and then finally loss your virginity to each other.

You thought after having sex with your captain it would have been kind of weird. Luffy was very flustered and embarrassed the whole time, but afterwards he perked up a bit. It actually was fun to him and wanted to do more.

And that’s what got you both to being friends with benefits.

It wasn’t something you both verbally agreed on, it just sort of happened after the 2 year break. You knew it wouldn’t have any merit nor alter in your friendship with your captain because you both had specific goals and had trained harder than ever to succeed at reaching them. You had no complaints though and Luffy didn’t either.

He typically views your…time in bed as “play time.”

“Y/N do you wanna play with me?” He has his signature snicker behind the question hinting at what he wanted. The rest of the crew seen no difference in your friendship besides you both going to disappear for a few minutes then coming back all happy and giggly. The only person that found out was Zoro due to his keen observation skills, but he didn’t believe it at first since he never thought his captain interested in that at all due to all the women he ignored on their journey. But it was true and you actually enjoyed it, it was fun, you both only really did it every other day when you had complete free time or when there was a party going on and you both slipped away for a quickie.

How it’s going:

It’s been about 8 months into the FWB with him and it’s becoming more difficult to deny yourself of wanting to be around Luffy. He’s gotten so much better at sex and even starting to do things like cuddle you afterwards or give you a massage of places he hurt you. But besides all that Luffy began to do things you usually never seen him do before to you.

He started to bring you back gifts, protect you in battle, and sometimes you just catch him wanting to eat or nap with you. The more closer you got the more you started to feel more than just sexual desire from him, but you started to actually have FEELINGS for the man. You knew Luffy wasn’t the type to be anybody’s man so you try to ignore the feelings hoping they’re just a phase, but they would only worsen the more closer he got to you. You weren’t sure if he realized what he was doing, but because of this you tried to keep yourself busy after having sex; going straight to sleep until he leaves, picking up chores for everybody, just anything to keep your feelings at bay because you couldn’t handle the awkward rejection of him denying you of being inclusive.

“Luffy?” You shut your door behind you, it was about 10pm and you wanted to take a quick nap before you had to go on watch duty, you assumed Luffy was in his room for the night after letting him know you wanted to be alone so seeing him there was a shocker. locking the door, seeing his tired body starfished on your bed with his hat on his face. He jumped up to greet you with a smile. Tonight wasn’t the usual night you had sex so you felt a bit confused.

“Y/N! You’re back!” His arms stretched out to hold you tight and give you a fat wet kiss on the cheek. You hated it because it wasnt something you needed right now to avoid further feelings with him. “I missed you hehehehe.”

“Luffy i um…” you adjusted yourself on his lap to straddle him since he wouldn’t let go, “I thought you were sleep…did you…wanna play?”

“Oh no! Maybe in the morning, but…are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze softens and his smile narrows down at you, his arms loosen to let you sit beside him on the bed as he looks down swinging his feet.

“I just…I don’t know you’ve been distant. Did I make you mad? I wanted to actually PLAY play with you with Usopp, but Nami said you were busy, then I wanted to train with you, but you were taking a nap, and then I wanted to eat with you, but Sanji said you ate early and headed to the watch tower. I barely see you.”

Luffy was always the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, but for him to express his concern to you like this made you feel guilty. It wasn’t his fault at all. It was yours. Maybe both, you wasn’t sure so you sighed at him trying to find the right words.

“I just…I been avoiding you because….I…I made a mistake….and I’m afraid you won’t like me because of it.”

He cocked his head to the side, just for a moment he frowned then smiled again harshly patting your back. “What do you mean you could never make me mad I love you!”

Love?

Wait…

“You love me…?”

“Yeah! Duh.” He scoffed, confused at your confusion. “Don’t I Tell you that a lot?”

“No Luffy we Never told each other that.” You felt like he was playing a cruel joke on you, no way he was being for real…but due to him not laughing with you he meant it.

“Oh…well I do love you, y/n. Don’t you love me back?”

“I..I do, but…well wait do you love me as a friend or LOVE love me.”

Luffy squinted his eyes and have you an unreadable look. He then rubbed his chin with his finger pretending to think, “Both.”

“Both?”

“Yeah both you’re mine!”

“…like a girlfriend?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Luffy laughed at your puzzled face, putting his hat on your head to then throw you on his lap as he lays back on the back. “You’re my girlfriend. I mean I think you are, i think about you a lot, i like being around you alot, and my big bro Ace always told me that’s what a girlfriend is…i think…? I thought we were a couple months ago….remember Valentine’s Day?”

That day you could never forget. You and Luffy spent the entire day together and you remember a ring he stole found and gave it to you. To this day you wear it as a necklace since it couldn’t fit your finger properly.

“Yeah this one! I gave it to you as like a promise! A promise that we will always be together !” He pulled out the jewelry from your shirt and played with it with his fingers. You felt some heat on your cheeks. A promise ring? Who the hell told him about those? “I asked Nami for some advice on what I should get you and she told me you love jewelry so I wanted to give it to you to make sure you know you’re my one and only!”

You never assumed Luffy had these feelings as well, but he of course expressed them in his own way: with more action than words and honestly it was a relief. You smiled at him rubbing his still chubby cheeks to pull him into a sweet kiss.

“You’re my one and only too.”

Zoro

Zoro was the one that offered the suggestion (during the skypiea arc may I add)

You both had alotta tension between each other enemies to FWB HELLO

You of course accepted and honestly the second you did he took you right on his workout bench SKSJSJS I

How it Started

When you first joined not too long after Sanji you and Zoro were both the swordsmen of the group which off bat made so much tension. He was a bit envious of you.

You both trained each other and that grew into a bond, but you both kept bickering like an old couple, the old couple bickering that then ended up with Zoro kabedon’ing you and kissing you. It wasn’t surprising considering you both have not only made mean remarks towards each other, but also flirtatious one’s

“You can be such a brat….”

“Oh Yeah? You wanna be a brat tamer then?”

Eventually enough was enough and that’s when you both started having casual sex. It was usually only done if you or him were stressed out. Zoro made it completely clear that no feelings will be involved of having sex and you didn’t mind it at all. He was your personal trainer and booty Call? Big W.

Sex with Zoro was quick and discreet, mainly because he didn’t want anybody in your business and getting the wrong idea so when the ship was docked you slid into a cheap hotel and had your fun there, however the days where you’re stuck on a boat and either of you feel needy you just offer Zoro if he wanted to train with you and that was his signal.

It was plausible that you have grown to fall for the Marimo, during the last 6 months you both actually learned a lot about each other and how much you guys have in common besides your weapons. That bond led to more time together, you both used to be paired off (sometimes to have a quickie) and fighting side by side. It was nice to be around him.

And he felt the same way too.

How it’s going

2 years have passed with no contact of Zoro. You of course thought about him a lot during your time training to be a better swordsman, but any feelings you believed you could have developed been diminished and you were more than ready to be back with your crew.

“Good to see you again, greenhead.”

“I know it is..missed me?”

Seeing each other again brought back memories you wished you would have cherished more before leaving. There was a few times Zoro had to speak to you about something important but it would always either get interrupted or possibly. Zoro usually tired to wear his heat on his sleeve, and be blunt with you as you are with him, but it felt different now? Almost like a shift between you both?

You knew he grew and got stronger while being away, but after 2 months since the reunion it’s like he wants nothing to do with you. You both didn’t joke as much, he didn’t laugh at your dumb jokes, he didn’t even want to train with you anymore.

“You’re not as strong as me to spar with.”

The comment was insulting! You trained just as hard as anybody else with battle scars to prove it and now…

“Excuse me?! You think you too good enough for a little training with me now?!” You shoved his shoulder back to face you as he was walking away, but he just grumbled to himself not even wanting to make eye contact with you. “The hell is with you why are you acting like an ass?!”

“Shut the hell up you’ve always been so sensitive I thought the two years you’d finally grow a pair!”

His words were so sharp you had to chuckle from tears trickling your eye. This wasn’t the same Zoro you were friends with. He turned his back to walk away, but you weren’t finished. No he had to explain himself.

You pulled your blade out to hit his side with the blunt part of your sword, but you truly under estimated Zoro’s speed when he grabs your wrist and flips you to the ground. Man, Zoro really didn’t discriminate with fighting back.

He’s squatting over your but holding your one arm against your back, Zoro chuckled to himself seeing you let go of your sword in defeat, but his curled smile then fell to a slow frown hearing your sniffles.

“Hey..” He finally got off of you to help you up. He didn’t hurt you actually, well not physically, but it felt like Zoro just didn’t care about you like you thought he did. Even though your love for him romantically has died, the love you have for him as a friend never did.

He seen your tears and with his rough touch he pulled your chin to look at him, “I’m..—“

“It’s whatever, Zoro. Sorry I did that..” Picking up your weapon to just go back in your room for the evening to forget everything was the initial plan. That was until the sword man tsk’ed to himself and grabbed your arm. With no words your sword dropped again as well as his with you now being squeezed into his strong arms.

“I’m apologizing to you, Y/N…I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have any words, your eyes just stared off over his shoulder still being held as if you were ganna disappear again before his very eyes if you let go.

“I know you been noticing me avoiding you…I didn’t want to, but I had to…I…before we separated I wanted to tell you that I um…”

“I…”

“I broke the sex rule.”

Zoro pulled back away from you, with his face now being so pink, he noticed himself and looked away annoyed like. He hated expressing his feelings but this was the only way he could get rid of this weight he’s been carrying for so long.

“I don’t know why…but 2 years ago…after we started having just sleeping together I…I started to like you…a lot…and it’s something I know we both agreed not to, but I couldn’t help it. It started to become more than us fucking…we shared a lot of moments together and I know you probably don’t feel the same way especially after so long, but I had to tell you or else I’d just keep avoiding you….I hated seeing your face look so sad when I wasn’t paying attention to you….you looked like a damn abandoned puppy.”

You laughed through your tears which made Zoro grin as he whipped your face. “I’m sorry.”

Never would you this the Pirate Hunter Zoro would be APOLOGIZING. You knew this would probably never happen again so without thinking you just hugged him tightly.

“You know…what if I told you I broke it too.” You’d be lying to say him hugging you didn’t bring back a bunch of feelings your swore you thought you threw away

“Then…”

“Then…how about we both take it slow…if that’s what you want to do. AT LEAST HANG OUT WITH ME AGAIN PLEASEEEE. Or else imma hanging out with the cook…he does look a bit cuter now aft—-“

Zoro had to stop your ridiculous claims with kissing you. If you kept going he probably would have went straight to the kitchen to cut Sanji up.

“Oh?” You teased, pulling back. He looked away from you tsk’ing once again, but you giggled wrapping around the back of his neck to kiss him more passionately this time.

“Let’s take it slow then.” He mumbled on your lips. You didn’t have time to respond as he kissed you again to then pick you up and hold you against the wall. He still wanted to take it slow, but he had to apologize for how he acted in a more physical way.

Sanji

Surprisingly (and ironically) he was the hardest the convince to get become FWB

Literally does not understand it. He loves you sm.

He only declined at first because after explaining that it was just sex and no love involved he wasn’t sure if he was able to just have sex with you without catching feelings

However it was okay because you both ended up falling for each other KSJSHSKS

How It Started:

(It was after the Water 7 arc that mf really carried pls)

The topic of sex only came up because of your constant teasing. You had so much fun flustering him, you didn’t think it was a big deal until he told you the truth about how he felt.

“Oh common don’t act like a whole bunch of women aren’t like this towards you anyways you should be used to it!”

“I um..no..not really.”

It kind of shocked you. Sanji had his flaws, but he was a cute boy! Very respectful and really sweet to women how come no woman has tried anything with him?!

It took a minute but after a few months of getting to know each other he explains how he never even gotten to kiss a girl before. He felt ashamed and less of a man, but that wasn’t further from the truth!

“Well how about..” Your arms reached around his neck smelling the smoke from his mouth mixed in with some mint. “I give you that. Trust me I don’t have c—MMPH!”

Pretty boy got so excited he just went for the kiss, however getting to into it your butt hit the counter with his cold hands rubbing your warm skin that was exposed from the thin shirt and short shorts you were wearing.

“I love you, marry me!” You barely had time to comprehend what he was saying in between kisses. You had to stop him once he picked you up and placed you in the counter.

At that point you did find his….assertion attractive , so you agreed to take his virginity! It was a short lived conversation, because he was already trickling of blood, but once he calmed down you decided to go and do it in the bathtub. (His idea)

After that Sanji actually became a whole new man, he viewed women so much more differently (in a good way) and he had you to thank for it. You on the other hand just wanted to help your FRIEND. Out.

But Sanji didn’t understand? When he’d bring you back roses, and try to make you a personal dinner you always declined his advances telling him that you both aren’t a couple so he shouldn’t have to do all that.

“But I thought two people that had sex loved each other?”

It damn near broke your heart how he said it lmao.

You explained to him though that’s true, you do love him as a friend, but Sanji didn’t want to hear it. He wanted you to be IN love with him. However you wasn’t ready for that.

The FWB idea was yours, and Sanji didn’t know what it meant, all he heard was “we can keep having sex sometimes.”

And you did. That very second you said it.

But one day Sanji offered to take you on a date and you declined which left him confused.

“Sanji, remember I said we’re just friends…with benefits we don’t go on dates.”

Poor baby he just didn’t understand.

For a moment he wanted to stop having sex, he didn’t, because if you didn’t feel the same way and he just kept falling harder and harder for you after each lay he couldn’t bare it if you decided you wanted to stop.

So he made a suggestion;

“Okay how about you give me 5 months to convince you to go on that date! If I swoon you, my love we can be more than friends! Deal?”

You had nothing to lose so why not. Your heart was set and stone though: just sex and nothing more.

Oh boy were you wrong.

It was like Sanji was no longer Vinsmoke Sanji the Strawhat cook, but Mr. Prince.

He even gotten better at pleasuring you, he learned what aftercare was, slowed down on his simping ways just a tad, putting you above the rest of the women he encountered, and you guys have suddenly started a routine where you both bathe together under a candle lit room after your steamy night sessions.

“You’re ganna marry me one day you know..”

Sanji’s confidence was something else, he confessed each time and you just hummed as you relaxed between his legs. You nearly felt bad for how much effort he put into getting you to love him back, but you both knew the pros and cons of being causal sex buddies.

A few months have passed and you have yet to allow him to date you despite him going so above and beyond for you, he almost felt defeated knowing the 5 months were almost up in a couple days and you still haven’t budged I your feelings for him, but..he may have been on to something because his efforts didn’t go in vain.

How it’s going:

Two long years of missing Vinsmoke Sanji. Your pretty boy. Your Prince. You couldn’t believe it but there were so many moments you laid your head on the pillow after a long day of training wishing Sanji was to massage your body. Oh the way you missed his hands over your body, not just sexually, but when he hugged you one last time before you bid your farewell to him. You never really got to admit how you felt.

You never got to let him ask you out and actually tell him yes.

You loss.

You fell for him and you fell hard. None of the men you talked to during the 2 years were anything like Sanji, they didn’t get your jokes, cook with you, share the same interest nor actually cared. They just wanted your body and honesty you felt like you deserved the treatment because that’s how you treated Sanji. And he didn’t deserve that.

You all are back now, everybody has grown especially the cook. He’s stronger and looks more mature, his voice even gotten deeper. He looked so attractive in his suit, you nearly felt embarrassed to see him again though. Your heart was pounding seeing him from a distance fawning over Robin and Nami. You were the last one to arrive to the Sunny, “Sanji..” you whispered to yourself. You believed after so long he definitely didn’t feel the same way about you anymore. You dragged and led him on for too long. He probably been with so many other women after you and you tried to accept that.

When he seen you land on the boat saying your hellos and hugs his cigarette fell out of his mouth. You looked breath taking, and all the feelings he once had came rushing back they never left in the first place his cheeks were hot as he approached you hoping you’d meet eyes, and you do.

“Sanji.” You grin. He was a few inches taller than you now and it made you get butterflies. You felt so stupid getting all nervous around him ITS SANJI WE ARE TALKING ABOUT.

“I missed you.” Sanji grabbed your hands to kiss them, you blushed. Damn you, Blondie for being so charming.

Later that night Sanji couldn’t keep his gaze off you. His mind was running a mile a minute he missed your laugh, your voice, you scent, everything. However something was chipping at his shoulder he just couldn’t get off and he felt like you were the same way.

“Hey can I talk to you?”

“Of course, my love! Did you enjoy dinner?”

“I did I did..missed your cooking, Sanji!” He smiled at your praise cleaning his hands to have your full undivided attention. “But I um…I missed you.”

He paused. Did he hear you correctly?

“You what?”

“I..I missed you.” You sighed not wanting to eye him, he felt more intimidating now, but you knew you had to spit it out for how wrong you were and if he didn’t feel the same way then it’s just another loss you’ll have to deal with. “Sanji I..um..you..fuck okay I missed you so much it hurts, Sanji i thought about you..everyday when I was away. Okay? I don’t know how you did it, but I was wrong. I was wrong to use you like that, I was wrong to treat you like that, I knew you fell for me and yet I pushed your feelings aside for my own satisfaction and…” your voice began to crack as the heaviness of your guilt began to weigh on you. You looked away trying to fight your tears. “I’m sorry I used you. I know that your feelings for me are probably gone. You’ve seen so many more beautiful women worthy of your love so I understand completely if that’s the case. I just wish…before we left I would have told you that…It wasn’t just the sex..I ..I love you Sanji…and I—“

He kisses you, his lips so soft and gentle against yours your legs shake a bit, but don’t worry if his hands wasn’t already holding your waist he would have caught you anyways.

“You don’t ever have to apologize, my love…just know how happy I am to hear that…from you. I never stopped thinking about you either.” He exhaled on your lips holding your cheeks now to wipe away any tears that escaped. You looked into his eyes and seen the gloss pushing through his own and smiled. “I love you, y/n.”

You share a giggle and a sweet peck on the lips. “I love you too….so…how about…tomorrow…you take me on that date?”

“And then after that you’re ganna marry me?”

You giggle at his hopeful face, “Yes Sanji i will…”

He couldn’t have been happier to hear such words.

✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡ I need him to put me in a headlock so bad need him to make me feel weightless ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

something i catch myself staring at for longer than i should:

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡perfect ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

Your fav fucking you until you cry and then handing you one of your stuffies for comfort. While continuing to fuck you as you cry.

I was just thinking about him too ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Obsessed with the idea that Tenya is actually the biggest slut for you :(

He just can’t help it! With your deliciously thick thighs that squeeze his head just right when he eats your chubby pussy, pulling your downright sticky folds apart before running a flat tongue against the length of you. 

He sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks his tongue rhythmically over the bundle of nerves, eyes watching how your cute tummy jiggles and shakes from the intensity of the feeling of his mouth on you. 

He’s whining, moaning at the taste of you as he grinds his clothed cock into the mattress, trying his best not to cum too quick :((

It’s fruitless in the end however, as soon as he reaches a hand up to fondle your breasts and you cry out as you orgasm, he feels his hips stutter as his own orgasm hits him unexpectedly, burying his face further into your cunt.

And when he finally comes up for air, glasses all fogged up and crooked, practically hanging off of his face, you can’t help but pull him into a feverish kiss, groaning as you taste yourself on his tongue.

He’s just… too fucking cute :(((

ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕 acting like she not stuck with me for forever ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: vi's a bit emotionally immature but well-intentioned, slight mention of a past abusive relationship, implied smut at the end, a bit of fluff sprinkled in, very light fingering lmao, i like visualizing the fits of my characters so this was what the reader's wearing but like better, black! reader as always

𝔞/𝔫: finally smth that isn't only a paragraph long 😭, this was going to be smth kinktober related originally but i changed my mind halfway through, i probably WILL be participating in kinktober tho so stay tuned <3

(also reblogs are always welcome. like, always. forever)

“….vi? baby? please tell me what’s wrong. i don’t get why you’re so angry with me.”

for the first time in your two years of being together, she actually ignored you. you slumped in your seat, acrylics beginning to curl into the stretchy fabric of your skirt. unsure of what to do, you gently reached for her right hand, trying to interlock your pinkies (a tradition you guys had ever since your first date). the tip of your nail was barely able to graze the cool metal of her ring before she snatched her arm away, placing both hands back on the steering wheel. she looked agitated, but also lost in thought. sighing in defeat, you turned your head to look out the window, the stars and inky night sky serving as comfort as you toyed with one of your necklaces (vi’s favorite, she usually adored the way it dipped down to the valley in between your breasts, the stark silver standing out beautifully against your dark skin). “well i don’t know how you expect for us to work this shit out if you can’t even explain what the damn problem is, violet.” you were well aware that there was nothing she hated more than being called by her government name, but you had a point to make. and yet, still no response.

the night had started out peacefully enough. the two of you had been invited to a party that night that “what’s-her-name” was hosting (some girl from your psych class, but the don julio always fucked with your memory). you scanned your brain, trying to figure out what the problem was. it wasn’t your outfit (she already fucked you in it earlier, whispering endlessly about how beautiful you were as she shoved her ringed fingers into your cunt, dripping so much it almost stained your new fur boots). it’s not like y’all had any arguments before you left. she had a little bit to smoke, a little to drink, hell it looked like she was having the time of her fucking life as she gripped your hips and caught every ounce of ass you threw at her every time you felt like dancing. so yeah, you were hella lost. you took out your (sadly dying) cart, ghosting the last bit of what was left as you started scrolling on your phone. if she wants to be petty for no reason, then fine. that also happened to be your area of expertise.

it was the most awkward 15 minutes of your life.

“i just don’t know why you had to talk to her”. oh, so now she has something to say.

“i’m not sure if you noticed this, but we were at a lesbian bar, violet. there were a shit ton of “shes” and “hers” present.”

“and out of all of them you still choose to talk to your bum ass ex.”

oh. oh.

like you said earlier, the second even the slightest bit of liquor hits your system ….and suddenly you're not the most reliable of narrators. it’s one of your quirks.

“we literally had a 3 sentence conversation, babe. she said hi, i said hi, she asked how class was going, i said fine, and that was the end of it.” the brief encounter was so irrelevant to you that you didn’t even bother to answer her questions with enthusiasm. for context, the ex in question’s name was niyla, aka the biggest mistake you’ve ever made in your entire twenty-one years of life. you weren’t together very long, just 6 months your freshman year of college, but her toxicity and borderline emotional abuse took its toll on your mental state at the time. every attempt you made at trying to change her behavior failed, every apology that ever came from her mouth was half-assed and empty, and you ran for the hills the moment you could.

but granted, that was a really long time ago, and you were proud to say that you were 100% over her. besides, the queer community at your school was notoriously small, the sapphic side even more so. you accepted the fact that running into her would be inevitable a long time ago. you’ve seen her out and about since the breakup, but this was the first time you’ve actually spoken to her.

vi slightly softened, releasing her vice grip on the wheel and exhaling deeply. “i know, y/n. it’s just…”. she suddenly held your hand again, lightly stroking the pretty henna that decorated it as she tried to find the words. “i can’t stand the fact that she still thinks she has the right to talk to you.” it wasn’t everyday that vi was so…vulnerable. even though she had the utmost amount of trust and respect for you, really sitting down and discussing her thoughts and emotions wasn’t something that came easy to her. you kissed her hand and nuzzled it against your cheek, urging her to continue. “she treated you like absolute garbage…i just don’t want you to get swept up in all that bullshit again, you know?” you listened intensely, absorbing every single word as your heart began to swell with love.

she chuckled humorlessly, seemingly dismissing her thoughts. “but i guess i should’ve just started off with that rather than giving you the silent treatment. my therapist always talks about how i need to work on my ‘communication skills’. or ….something like that.” her eyes, deeply apologetic, glanced down at yours. “forgive me, cupcake?”

“mmm, maybe. on one condition”. truth is, you already forgave her the moment she explained herself, but god, seeing her all sincere and introspective did something to you. a mischievous smirk graced your features as you took the hand that was still caressing your cheek and began trailing it down your body. vi’s eyes widened as she felt the dampness of your thin lace panties, slick slowly starting to gush out as your face got hotter and hotter. “you have to make it up to me.”

(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾ can wait for that date ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 1 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy

❥ A/N: hello!! I compiled the first two drabbles of this series into one fic! Im hoping to continue the fics in the future :) feedback is always appreciated!!

It's when he brings you flowers for the third time that you become a little suspicious of his intentions.

"He likes you," your coworker whispers as he leaves. "When are you gonna give him the chance?"

You shrug, putting the flowers on the counter by the register, rearranging them a bit.

"I think he's just trying to be nice."

"Why in the world would he keep bringing you flowers if he wasn't interested in you?" She grabs your shoulder, pulling you to face her. "The next time he comes in, just ask him how he feels. Maybe he'll be more direct and tell you how he feels."

Two days later, he's back, carrying a red bag. He approaches the counter, opposite hand in his pocket.

"The usual?" your coworker asks, but he's not looking at her, staring at you across the room, watching you steam milk. You pour the milk in a paper cup, placing down the pitcher and finally making eye contact with him. The two of you stare at each other, your coworker glancing back and forth before approaching you.

"Let me take over," she says, taking the cup from you and putting on a lid. She leans in to whisper. "Ask him."

You glance at her before looking back at him, running your hands over your apron, approaching the register where he stands.

"The usual?" you ask, and he nods. You click on the screen, bringing up his order. "Anything else?"

"What's your favorite drink?"

You twist your lip, looking up in thought.

"It's a little complicated."

"Tell me."

You take a deep breath.

"Well, I like to get two ristretto shots over ice, add two blue sugars, sometimes I add toffeenut or white mocha, and then I add oatmilk. Or soy, if I want some protein."

He hums.

"One of those too."

You pause, tilting your head quizzically before reaching towards the register.

"What size?"

"Whatever size you get."

You squint in thought, typing in the order. You give him the total, let him insert his credit card, and grab the cups you need. You make his order quickly, placing it at the other end of the counter where he now stands. You work on the second drink, placing it in front of him a minute later. He doesn't move for either drink.

"Is... there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yeah." He pushes the second drink back towards you. "Drink this for me."

"I—"

"And take this." He places the red bag on the counter next to the drink.

"Uh... what is it?" He nods towards the bag.

"Open it."

You hesitate, sliding the bag towards you and glancing inside.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, you think as you reach in and take out a heavy box wrapped in plastic.

"Perfect by Marc Jacobs?" you ask in a whisper. You glance up at him and he's just staring at you, an intense look in his eye. You swallow, peeling off the plastic and opening the box. You pull out the bottle, removing the cap and sniffing.

"Smells nice." You put the cap back on and look at him again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

You both stand there silently for a moment before you put the perfume back in the box.

"Did you get this for me because I smell?"

His eyes widen, his hands raised.

"I didn't—"

He stops when you smile and laugh, tossing the plastic in the trash.

"I'm just messing with ya." You see his shoulders loosen as he lowers his arms, a smirk creeping up on his lips.

"Funny."

You move the bag behind the counter, making sure there wasn't a line before returning to him.

"Do you usually buy perfume for girls?"

"No," he replies quickly, finally taking his drink. "Just you."

You hum, grabbing the drink he bought for you.

"Why?"

He swallows his drink, staring at you the whole time.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Um... no, not really."

He scoffs, putting his cup down.

"The flowers, the perfume... what do you think it means?"

"Uh..." You glance at your coworker who's just leaning against the counter, smiling as she watches the two of you. "I, um... I thought you were just trying to be nice."

"You think buying perfume for a stranger is 'trying to be nice'?"

"I don't know," you reply defensively. "I just don't see why else you would give me stuff."

He leans his hands against the counter, bringing his eyes down to your level.

"You really can't think of any reason why someone would bring you flowers and perfume?"

You pause, then shrug, pouting at him. He sighs, hanging his head before standing up straight, grabbing his cup.

"Guess I'll have to try harder next time."

You scrunch your eyebrows as he starts walking away.

"Try what next time?" He doesn't answer, opening the front door. "Try what next time?" you yell after him, but he's already gone, taking a right and walking down the street.

You're dumbstruck. Your coworker starts squealing and jogs to you.

"Oh my god, the tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife!" She giggles and bounces. "I can't believe my work bestie is being pursued by a guy like that!"

"He's not pursuing me." She groans, throwing her head back.

"Alright, sure, keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile he'll keep bringing you flowers and then it'll be chocolate and jewelery and–"

You zone out, not paying attention. You glance at the drink he bought for you, wondering.

"He's coming!" your coworker whispers to you, bouncing for a moment before regaining her composure as he walked through the door. He approaches the counter, glancing at her before staring at you. He's carrying a bouquet of roses and a red box wrapped with a white bow.

"You're here for her, right?" she asks, pointing at you. He nods, and she turns, giving you two thumbs up as she walks past you, moving to the other side of the coffee bar. You pause, unsure, but eventually make your way to the register.

"Your usual?" you ask, but he shakes his head.

"Not today." He hands out the flowers and box. "For you."

"I..." You don't know what to say, so you just take the gifts, giving an awkward smile. "Thank you...?"

He nods towards the box.

"Open it."

You try not to show how nervous you are, putting down the roses on the counter. You peel the white ribbon from the box, taking off the red lid.

"Holy fuck?" you whisper, putting down the lid and pulling out a string of pearls. "What is this?"

"They're pearls."

"Yeah, I can see that, but why are you giving them to me?"

"Do you not like them?"

"No, I do like pearls, but–" You put the pearls back in the box, staring up at him. "Why are you giving them to me?"

"So you can wear them."

You roll your eyes.

"What? No, really? I thought I was supposed to eat them."

He smiles.

"You're funny. I like that."

You sigh, putting the lid back on the box, setting it down on the counter.

"Look, you've been really nice, but I don't think this is appropriate."

He glares.

"Why?"

"Well," you start, fiddling with your fingers, "I don't think your girlfriend would like you giving me all these things."

"I don't have a girlfriend." You blink.

"Well, I don't think your boyfriend would—"

He laughs, deep and gruff. It makes your stomach flip in the best way.

"I'm not into men."

"Then... well, why would you—"

"Look," he starts, leaning against the counter. "I want you to wear those pearls. I want you to wear the perfume I got you too. I want you to wear them to dinner with me."

Your cheeks burn. You swallow hard.

"W-Why do you want to have dinner with me?"

"You'll see." He stands up, reaching his hand out. "May I see your phone?"

You hesitate, but reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and handing it to him. He takes it gently—holy fuck his hands are big—and taps at the screen for a little while. He hands the phone back to you, smirking at you. You read the screen, seeing his phone number and contact name: Future Husband 💕.

You sputter, wondering if your face could burn any hotter as you look up at him.

"Send me your address: I'll pick you up on Friday at seven."

Before you can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving the coffee shop. Your coworker squeals behind you.

"Oh my god, girl! I am totally living vicariously through you."

You huff, changing his phone contact to something more sensible.

Buff Guy

We should move in together (≧◡≦)

CW: 18+ MDNI, neighbour!price x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You find out John Price doesn’t play around when it comes to catching up on sleep while he’s on leave.

Struggling to bring in a heavy package one morning, you’re startled by your neighbour emerging from his unit huffing and puffing tiredly about noise in nothing but a simple pair of low hanging pyjama bottoms.

You’re concerned you’re going to get an earful when he wordlessly hoists the box up, uncaring about the way it tugs at his waistband to expose a dusting of hair and noticeable veins. Leaving your delivery just inside your door, he turns to look at you through squinted eyes, and your cheeks heat up when you realize you’ve been caught watching it bob under the loose fabric.

In your defence, he cuts quite the hypnotic figure from the side.

“Thank you, John-“ you try- only to be interrupted by a thick arm hooking around your neck; the other reaching behind him to close your door with just a tad too much force. His free hand lowers to scratch at his belly, prompting a loud yawn as a thick palm dips lower, giving himself a little squeeze. With a content hum rolling around in his chest, he pulls you into his apartment.

“Too early.” He grumbles as he flops onto his well-worn couch, half asleep and tugging you with him. Like a strangler fig, he rolls onto his side and cages you against the cushions, his legs tangling around yours and his cock unmistakably fattening against your belly.

٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- She can be topless and I can be bottomless ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

vi totally walks around the house shirtless, only wearing a pair of boxers that hang long on her hips. it's immensely distracting, especially when you're trying to concentrate on something. your eyes are always darting to her breasts, eyeing the piercings on her nipples and the trail of hair that disappears past the waistband of her boxers.

usually, this ends with you getting too frustrated to concentrate so you leave whatever it is you're doing to slam her down onto the couch, kissing that infuriating smirk off her face.

Need someone like this ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

NSFW

Love elves/vampires that are the epitome of elegance and beauty, who are admired for their tall, lithe bodies and soft, feminine features being absolutely whipped for their chubby lovers.

In their minds, you’re absolute perfection. Soft and warm, with nice curves, a nice fat tummy, and wide hips to bear children. You’re so fucking beautiful, they’ve never been so enamored with a woman in their centuries long life.

Safe to say they’re sweet on you, so soft and affectionate. Kisses are always being peppered across your chubby cheeks, their hands wandering to grab your plump hips and fat belly when they hold onto you.

He loves getting to sink his cock into your fat cunt, watching as your body writhes and your plump thighs and tummy jiggle while he fucks into you.

People are usually pretty confused. In your time, you aren’t considered conventionally attractive, but to your immortal lover, you’re as close to a goddess as humanly possible. In their time, a plump woman was seen as highly desirable, something to be cherished and adored.

He gets genuinely confused when someone tries to hit on him when you’re out on a date. Do they not understand that his body and soul belong to you? That he’d kill and burn down the entire town if it meant keeping you safe and happy?

You’re his baby, his princess, his little angel! He thinks he’s undeserving of you, honestly. You’re kind and beautiful, while he’s done terrible things throughout his long life that should have made him unlovable.

But you love him anyways… how could he ever be with anyone else?

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

Feels nice to be chubby today (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

(you and john price, your bear of a man, spend a winter day together. Chubby!reader)

The snow piled high against the cabin windows, muting the world outside into soft, endless white. It was the kind of winter storm that promised days of quiet seclusion- a chance to disappear from the world and pretend it was just the two of you.

Wrapped in a thick quilt, you lay curled against John’s furry chest, your body pressed so close to his that you could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing. He was impossibly warm, his body heat wrapping around you like a living furnace, and his scent- smoke, pine, and something uniquely him- made you feel so safe and content.

His large hand rested on your hip, fingers splayed wide as if to remind himself of just how much of you there was to hold. He traced idle circles through the soft fabric of your sleepwear, but the barrier did little to dull the sensation of his rough fingertips against you.

“You’re so soft.” He murmured, voice low and honeyed with sleep. He shifted slightly, pressing his nose into your hair to breathe you in. His beard scraped lightly against your skin, and you shivered despite the warmth.

“Too soft, some would say.” You mumbled, though your voice was half-hearted.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes catching the firelight as they roamed over your features- lazy and reverent, like he had all the time in the world to admire you, admire every inch of soft, supple flesh.

“There’s no such thing,” he said firmly, his voice like gravel but softened by the affection in his tone. “Not for me.”

His hand moved again, trailing from your hip to your waist, then higher, brushing over the curve of your belly. He lingered there, his palm flattening against the plushness as his thumb stroked gently.

“Love this,” he murmured, grumbling, almost to himself. “Every inch of you- soft, warm. Like you were made just for me.”

Your breath caught, and you squirmed slightly under his touch, but his grip tightened- not enough to hold you still, just enough to let you know he wasn’t letting go.

“John-”

“Let me look at you,” he interrupted gently, pulling back more so he could take you in. The blanket shifted as he guided you onto your back, his body following so that he loomed over you, one arm propping himself up while the other continued its slow exploration of your curves.

His gaze dragged over you, lingering at the soft swell of your stomach and the plushness of your thighs. He made no attempt to hide his admiration- his eyes darkened, his lips parting slightly like he couldn’t quite find the words to describe how much he loved what he saw.

“You’re perfect,” he said finally, thick with conviction. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the curve of your collarbone before nuzzling into your neck, the soft skin of your chin. “So damn perfect, love.”

Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. It wasn’t just lust in his eyes- though there was plenty of that, too. It was adoration, raw and unfiltered, as if he couldn’t believe you were real and with him.

He trailed kisses down your shoulder, his beard scratching lightly against your skin, but his hand never stopped moving- palming your waist, gripping your hip, sliding down to cup the curve of your thigh. Every touch felt reverent, like he was memorizing you all over again.

“Always thought I’d end up alone,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as his lips brushed your ear. “Never thought I’d be this lucky, having such a sweet, soft lady waiting for me at home.”

“John-”

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lips to quiet you. “Let me show you.”

And he did. He pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, your chin, your jaw. He worshiped you with his hands, tracing every soft curve and plush line like he was afraid you might slip away if he stopped.

Eventually, he settled back against the pillows, pulling you with him so you could curl into his side once more. He tucked you close, burying his face in your hair, and the rumble in his chest was unmistakable this time- a low, contented sound that almost made you laugh.

“I knew it,” you teased, your voice muffled against his chest. “You can purr.”

His chest vibrated again, but this time with laughter. “Only for you.” He admitted, tightening his arms around you.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, the world was warm and quiet. Wrapped in John’s arms, with his steady heartbeat in your ear and his hands never straying far from your soft, warm body, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.

He is everything ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

It's cold and Aizawa hasn’t offered you his coat. 

You two have been seeing each other for the past three months, you’ve known him longer. There’s little dates when you both have the time, at his place but it’s usually yours. He spends the night, you order take out when you both can’t bare to cook, and you spend your nights reading while he dozes next to you. 

Its quite domestic for such a new relationship.

And it’s not like you wouldn’t call him chivalrous, he’s as chivalrous as you like in a guy, a good in-between. But you wish he would look at you and notice that you’re shivering. 

Now your footsteps are getting heavier with each passing moment, the aggravation becoming more and more apparent on your features as the chill in the air gets colder and colder. You think you might kill him, and you secretly hope he looks your way–

“Are you okay?” Shouta asks, circling his arm around your waist. He pulls you against him and the warmth is good for the moment. 

You’re still mad, or at least you want to stay mad. “Just say you hate me.”

He’s grinning now, its subtle but it’s still a grin. And you’re tempted to push him away and continue sulking in your annoyance. 

“You’ve been shivering for the past 10 minutes, you don't want my jacket?” He’s teasing you, his hand squeezing the flesh above your hip, through your clothes. You can sort of smell his cologne but it’s too faint compared to the smell of earthiness and crisp air. 

You look at him, really look at him, and you can’t help the smile growing on your face. It makes your cheeks hurt in the cold air. 

“I thought you were gonna be a gentleman and keep me warm,” You reply, more sugary than you’d like to come off. 

He’s looking at you with that lazy look in his eyes, the same one he gives you before he’s about to tell you some boring joke in bed. 

He chuckles dryly and pulls away from you, taking his coat off and draping it over your shoulders. And you can’t help but think he looks cute in his fitted henley shirt. 

“Is that warm enough?” He presses a chaste kiss into your temple before wrapping an arm around your waist for a second time. 

You mumble a quick “yeah” and lean into him.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

missionary but you keep apologizing for being loud so he tells you to “stop fucking apologizing” and tilts your head so your mouth is lined up with his ear and just fucks you harder

I need this man Now \(^ヮ^)/(*^‿^*)\(^ヮ^)/(❤ω❤)(❤ω❤)(❤ω❤)

Keep It Down

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Trying to not wake anyone up while staying over for the holidays…

Warnings: Intense feels, trying to stay quiet, hand over mouth, Smut 18+, literally just pp in vv moment, petnames (Ma (ofc, this is Jaybird we’re talkin’ about), baby), crying but…in the hot way?, obsessed with this concept ngl. Yes, I got lazy at the end, don’t judge.. :(

Word count: 1k

======

It was all quiet pants and silent tears. 

The holidays had rolled around and the two of you were staying at Wayne Manor for the week. A classic Gotham storm raged outside, snow gently falling as lightning flashed through the closed curtains of Jason’s room. Thunder shook the house, momentarily deafening what was happening. 

You and Jason were always recklessly in love. So, no wonder you couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves for more than a day. The only problem was volume. And shit, could Jason make you lose your voice moaning and crying out his name. On the other hand, it would be sucky to be caught by one of his brothers, let alone Alfred or Bruce… 

“Gotta stay quiet, baby.. Can you do that for me?” Was what he murmured in your ear before you got started. 

He was slow, loving with his slow but deep thrusts. His dick hitting that spot within you that made your back arch and nails drag down his back, leaving angry red streaks in their wake. Fuck, he knew how to make your head spin. 

Tears streaked down your cheeks, shallow breaths leaving your parted lips. Jason ate it up, kissing and nipping along your neck. Tasting your skin and groaning into your neck to keep his own noises to a minimum. Calloused hands gripping your thighs to haul them up around his waist to get a better angle. The whine you let out was quickly muffled by his lips capturing yours in a deep kiss. “Shhh.. I know, ma, I know..” He mumbled against your mouth. 

As he had your lips captured, his hands moved up. Pulling you up into an arch by your waist before wrapping his arms around. Shoving his arms between you and the bed. Chest to chest, arms hugging your middle like he was scared you’d slip away. When he finally pulled away to breathe, his forehead dropped to your shoulder. Hot breath fanning across your skin making a shiver run up your spine. 

“Oh shit…” You breathed, hand coming up to drag through his dark hair. Gripping with shaky fingers, lightly tugging, making Jason practically growl into your skin. Brows pinched in pleasure as tears fell back into your hairline. Every roll of his hips takes your breath away and makes you tremble. His fingers dug into your back as he squeezed you tighter. 

Fire.. that's what you felt. Crawling beneath your skin, licking at your core making your stomach flip. Pushing you closer and closer to your high with every thrust, sharp breath, and moan. Trying to keep quiet. Desperately. But it was so difficult with how overwhelming it was. The thrill of accidentally being too loud. Passionate tenderness that made your head spin and tears prick your eyes. In a vulnerable state of intense pleasure and connection. All while your loving boyfriend whispered sweet nothings into your skin. “That’s it, ma..I’ve got you.. Just let go, I’ve got you..” 

Flushed and blissed out, your head pressed back to the pillows. Whimpering an, “Oh my god..” into the darkness of the room. Maybe a little too loud than you should’ve… 

Jason was quick to remedy your loss of volume control. His hand coming up to cover your mouth, his other arm still securely holding you to him. While he loved how wrecked you sounded, he didn’t want to get caught..You breathed harshly through your nose as you let out a ragged moan that got muffled by his palm. “Baby, baby.. Gotta keep it down..” He murmured, voice laced with desire.

Despite his words, he picked up the pace a little, rocking against you with more intensity. Hitting harder, somehow it felt deeper too. Eyes squeezed shut as you tried to focus on your pleasure and keep your moans down. 

Pressing closer, practically suffocating you with his weight. Draping himself over you like a protective blanket made up of over two hundred pounds of muscle. His hand left your mouth to grip the pillow next to your head. His head dropping once more, groaning right into your ear. “C’mon, ma..” You were so close…

You choked and pressed your face to his neck. Letting out a strangle moan you muffle against his skin. Finally reaching that peak. It wasn’t fast and strong like it usually would be. The kind that would have you moaning shamelessly and crying out his name. No.. This twisted your spine and burned through your veins. Making you choke on your own air and hold your breath. Crashing over your body like waves on an ocean shore. Tensing as you gripped him where you could. Pawing desperately at his skin for purchase as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Then you let out a sob of raw pleasure, still muffled against his skin. Shaking as you rode out your high. Thighs trembling around his waist as your body pulsed with the aftershocks. He slowed down for a moment, cooing softly in your ear and pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 

When you finally calmed down enough, he took your chin in hand, “Yeah..?” He mumbled to you. Seeking permission, seeing if he could be selfish now. Chase his pleasure. All you could do was tighten your legs around his waist again and nod weakly. Arms pulling him closer once more. “Yeah..” He quickly sought out your lips, locking you in a deep and needy kiss as he picked up the pace again. 

Panting and pressing as deep as he could. His groans went straight into your mouth as he chased his release. He wasn’t far behind. His hips stuttered before he let out a strangled moan, “Baby..” he grumbled against your lips. Giving a few short thrusts as he finished. Jason finally broke the kiss with a heavy sigh. A string of saliva connected you still before he licked his lips. “Fuck, you did so good for me..” He praised softly as he caressed your cheek. Thumbs wiping away the tears. 

“Fuck yeah, I did..” You gave a tired smirk. He paused before he gave a slow smirk of his own. 

“As if, you were loud as hell.”

“Shut up…”

Need a man like this ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡(✿ ♥‿♥)

an eye for an eye | knight!ghost x f!reader

your husband bends to your will. men must learn from difficult lessons how far that bending goes.

type: a continuation of a hand for a hand, but can be read stand-alone (11.6k)

cw: 1600s au, dark!ghost, reader described as curvier/plus-sized, graphic depictions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, simon "i'd do anything for my wife no matter the devasting consequences" riley (18+)

Your husband has an insatiable appetite. Such a big man he is; he towers over you, so much so that you must tip your head back always to look up at him. You had to make many arrangements in your house to accommodate his hunger–a pantry stocked full of eggs and less fabric for your skirts.

Your house isn’t like others. Neither you nor Ghost have ever lived in luxury. When he showed you your home for the first time, you had shaken your head–you didn’t believe that such a large place was supposed to be yours, and even now, sometimes you feel like a stranger, out of place when the maids ask you what you want for supper or where you’d like to take your afternoon tea. You don’t like the fuss, the asking, the women that curtsy when you come near, concentrated over the creases in your skirts or the loose thread of your sleeve or the wispy hairs that fall out of your braids. You are told all the time that you must behave like a duchess, that you must poise yourself with your new title and your new money, and you must do the things that duchesses do–but no one says the same to your husband.

He is still allowed to sleep in the barracks. Lick the blood off his gauntlets. Polish his sword in the dirt. He’s still allowed to be everything that you cannot be anymore, he still lives the life he had before.

He still kills; and he is still very, very good at it.

Your queen told you in a letter that the king is very pleased. Ever since your union, Ghost has been quite the conqueror. Bloodthirsty and very determined, your husband has been taking his men across the water. He is not any less impressive off land. Not even the pirates have tried to negotiate; they bend the knee or taste the salt water. You breathe shakily when you read your queen’s letters—her praise for your husband’s conquests, how blessed your family will be and how valuable you are to the crown, how grateful she is that Ghost is no longer a fiend in court but rather a little more polite and a little quieter.

All for your sake. Ghost’s name is now your own, and he refuses to embarrass you now that you have it.

You won’t lie; the bodies that Ghost has stacked since you’ve been wed do not scare you. He’s doing it for you. He has never said it out loud, never told you so, but you know it. He wants to show you what kind man that he is, what kind of soldier—you know he’s trying to prove himself worthy. If he killed a thousand men to have you, how many will he slaughter to keep you?

He sends you letters of his own. Not many, but he does send letters, and while Ghost seems to be ineloquent and entirely too brutish, he has quite the voice when he writes.

To my wife,

The sun falls quicker here. I’d like to come home. Tell me of your day, and I will tell you of mine. There were a fleet of ships that came to meet us at dawn. When we sank three, they begged for us to spare the rest.

I have you to think about now. So I burned them.

Simon

A poet, your beloved.

He signs his real name in his letters. Your eyes skim over most of it–you don’t even blink when he tells you what he does to them. Sometimes he writes in great detail about the screams of a hundred souls, the way burning flesh smells, the taste of dirt in a new place when you know it is finally yours. He doesn’t like having secrets. He tells you all his thoughts, even if they might scare you, because you are his wife, and he has discovered quite quickly that you have been cut from the same cloth.

Even when he is home, and he tells you these things all over again, he can’t help the way his cock hardens when you merely blink and ask him if he has added any scars to his collection.

Ravenous, naughty little duchess, and you are all his. He knows he picked well–he knows, he knows he wasn’t wrong when he saw you across the throne room hiding behind his queen, he knows now that he was right about what he saw in your eyes.

You do hate when he’s away. You’re not used to the maids helping you dress, and you secretly abhor the help. That is why when you hear the shuffle of your house early in the morning, your heart thuds in your chest knowing he’s home.

The staff get antsy when Simon is around. He is very good at keeping an estate for someone that has never had to or ever been taught to, but he leaves the responsibilities with you and only you every time he goes. He doesn’t trust anyone else to do it, and every time he comes back, he makes you sit on one big thigh as he teaches you something new that you need to remember for when he goes away. He demands much of those he employs, and they are eager to please him. Whether it is because they respect him or are afraid of him, you aren’t sure.

Perhaps it’s both.

You sit up as the bedroom door opens. You smile, big and wide and sleepy as he steps into the room. He shuts the door with his boot, slipping his hood off, and you sigh as he grips the clasp of his mask and unhooks it. He tosses it onto the floor, bare-faced, and as he makes his way towards the bed, he sheds the rest of his clothes until he’s completely naked.

You cannot stop yourself from the shaky breath you take. He is all muscle and fat, strong and entirely too scary, but it’s hard to focus on what he really is when he stands before you like this. He has fat thighs, big shoulders, carved muscle of intense labor around his middle and along his biceps. He has large hands with calloused palms and split knuckles, and your eyes meet his own as he comes closer. He’s so gorgeous, even with a face like that. He has a long scar that stretches from one brow to his lower jaw, another that cuts his nose and splits his lip, but those eyes are dark and lovely, and you can’t help the warmth that comes over you when he catches you staring at him, closer, right to his cock that hangs heavy between his legs.

Just as he begins to lower himself onto the bed, you hold out a hand, giggling.

“Simon, if you think you are getting into this bed without a proper bath, you’re mistaken!” You laugh, and he raises a brow.

“Mmm…” He smacks his lips together. “Tha’ right, my lady?” He clicks his tongue. “This is my bed. ’s oll mine. Every blanket…every pillow…” He grips your ankle from under the covers and yanks you towards him. “And every part of you.”

You giggle again, shaking your head, “Please, Simon!” You push him away with your toes. “They only changed the sheets yesterday. You’ll dirty them…” You flutter your lashes. “Will you bathe if I join you?”

He grins wide, licking over his teeth.

“Can’t refuse an offer like tha’.”

You hold out your hand for him, and he takes it gently. You watch as he brings your knuckles towards his mouth, and you bite back a smile when he decides to kiss each one, slow. He tugs finally, pulling you up, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he hoists you up into his arms. You would worry about your weight normally, but Simon holds you so easily, barely even a grunt as he wraps your legs around his middle. You don’t waste another second, cupping his cheeks in your hands and kissing him softly.

It’s never just a kiss with Simon. He slides one of his hands up your back, into your hair, and you whine as he tips your head back just enough to slip his tongue into your mouth. Simon doesn’t just kiss, he consumes. What he did to get back to you, the things he endured, the places he has seen and the bodies he has buried and burned and scattered across the places he now calls country, it’s always to get back to this place.

To you.

“How’s my boy?” He asks when you pull away. He carries you to another room, to where the tub sits, and he rings a bell by the door to call the maids in. You snatch a robe off a hook and cover him with it as he sits with you, but all he does is put a few fingers under your chin and make you look at him again. “Oi. Asked ya question, luv.”

Your lip wobbles a little, and you look away.

“I…”  You wait until the maids have gone to fetch hot water to tell him. “I bled while you were gone. I…”  You smooth your hands over the robe, distracting yourself. “I’m…I’m sorry, Simon.”

You close your eyes as he leans close, resting his forehead against yours, and you shake a little as he lets out a warm breath against your lips. He moves a warm hand over your soft stomach, cupping you there, and you lean your head back a little at the tender touch.

“It will happen,” he says finally, and your mouth opens to respond, but he sticks his thumb between your lips to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear you blame yourself. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his, for not being here with you, for not be able to take care of you. You give in, suckling on the salt of him, and he grits his teeth as he watches you. “I know. Seen it in m’dreams.”

Simon has dreams. Lots of dreams, but he tells you that they are not dreams, they are glimpses into something that has already happened. When you asked if he was some kind of seer, the kind that the king used to have at parties, Simon doesn’t laugh.

He says the dreams are why he knows he won’t die. Why he is never afraid, because he knows somewhere behind his eyes what’s to come even if he didn’t see the entire painting of it. It is why he knew he would marry you; it is why he paid you so much attention, why he knew he would win his battles, why he always knows whose blood it is in his mouth because he has tasted their death before and relishes in the knowing of it all, in the certainty.

It’s never I think, it is always I know, and Simon is nothing if he is not the most honest man that you know.

So if he says you will have his babe, it is as good as truth. As green as the grass grows beneath his feet, as blue as his sky, and as red as the blood that is caked underneath his nails.

When the tub is filled with water, you let Simon sink into it first. You kneel beside it, picking up a glass of oil, pouring it into your palms before sinking your hands into his hair. It’s gotten longer since he left, in need of a cut, but you smile when he leans his head back into your shoulder. You can feel his content as he relaxes into you, and you admire his physique as you use the warm water and scrub the mud and grime off of him.

“I missed you, husband,” you whisper, and he only lets you massage his hair for a few more moments before he grips you by the wrist and tugs you forward, right into the bath. “Simon!” you laugh, “my night dress—oh!—it’s ruined!”

“Too far away,” he mutters, practically ripping the silk off of you as he tosses it besides the bath. “Mmm…” He cups your breasts with two big hands, smoothing his thumbs over your nipples, and you whine a little as he pulls at them just enough to make them stiffen. “Y’should be naked when I come home,” he says lowly. “I’ll soil y’r bloody gown next time, m’lady.”

You giggle, and he smiles. A real smile. As real as he’ll ever give anyone, maybe the only one that anyone has ever even seen. He has never shown his face in court, and while it angers the women and irks the men, you revel in the fact that all of this is only for you.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

You kiss him softly. The water sloshes, warm and inviting, and sometimes you forget your life used to be anything but joy. A year ago, you would not believe that you would be here, titled, wealthy, in a stone room lit by candles bathing with a blood hungry ghost.

A year ago, you trembled whenever he looked at you. You cowered when you heard his footsteps. What a stupid little girl you had been. What a fool. She had no idea what she could have, the kinds of things she could hold in her hand.

Real power wasn’t being able to command a room with your words. Real power was being able to say anything and have it be believed as truth. Real power was making someone look in one direction and have them see what you see, even if what you see isn’t real.

He lays you down in your bed afterward and eats. Your wet hair soaks the sheets, but you can’t seem to be really bothered as he fits your legs over his shoulders and bends you at the waist, his mouth suctioned to your clit as he eats you slowly. One of his hands is spread out over your tummy, the other you can hear making a squelch as he fists his own cock. It’s slow and methodical, and he slides his tongue between your folds firm, catching what dribbles from you on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it and leans in for more.

He has eaten you in nearly every room in your house. Frightened the cooks tossing you onto the dining table, given a servant a scare as he ducked under your skirts in the library, had the gardeners fleeing as he dropped you onto the grass near the lake and disappeared with a frenzy to eat your cunt during sunrise. It’s maddening, the kind of need that Simon requires, but it’s hard to refuse when you feel so warm and bubbly and happy after he’s finished. A pampered princess you are, never lifting a finger, only awake long enough when he’s home to eat until you’re full and cum until you fall asleep again.

Maybe that’s why you’re not pregnant yet. Simon likes to be here, between your thighs, mouth fixed on your wet pussy until he’s practically exhausted himself with a sore jaw and lax tongue.

He kisses you sloppy after. Licking into your mouth, practically spitting onto your tongue, wanting you to taste—tastes so good, luvvie, don’t ya see, yeah?—wanting you to know why he’s so eager to be on his knees all the time.

You sniffle, a little dizzy, shaking your head.

“’s not what I really want,” is all you whimper, and he nods, because he knows, he always knows.

“I know, luv. I know wot ya really need.”

“I must be broken,” you sob, cradling his face in your hands, and he shakes his head.

“Not broken,” Simon assures you. He speaks so surely that it’s hard not to believe him. “It wasn’t time.”

“You can’t see the future, Simon! You don’t know!” You cry, and he snarls a little, shaking his head again.

“You listen t’me,” he growls. You shake a little as he grabs your face with one hand, fixing your jaw under his grip as he holds onto you firmly. “Wot I say goes. Y’r my wife, so listen t’me, and listen t’me good. Y’r not broken. Not time. Say it back t’me.”

Your lip trembles, and he rattles your head a little.

“Say it,” he snaps, and you hiccup.

“It’s not time,” you whisper, and he plants a fat kiss onto your tear-soaked lips.

“Just need my cock, luv,” he murmurs. “Tha’s oll. Just need me t’fuck it outta ya.”

You nod, pressing your face to his, and he tuts, reaching down and spreading your legs wide to accommodate him between them as he lays over you.

“’s oll y’need,” he repeats, and you nod again.

You have to take another bath in the same morning; and this time, you weren’t able to walk there.

You like when Simon is home because it’s quiet. The only one that dotes on you here is Simon. The maids do not dress you or do your hair or moisturize your skin. It’s always Simon.

You smile at him in the mirror as you sit at your vanity. He has a brush in one hand, and he’s using it delicately to detangle your hair how you like. His hands are practiced and gentle, and when he finishes, he leans over you as he starts to part your hair to braid it. He did not have sisters, but his mother had him always do her hair after she lost the use of her hands with age. You don’t know where his mother is, but you assume she is not here anymore, because he never invites you to meet her.

He oils your skin. He slips the robe off of you, revealing your damp skin from the bath, and he slathers oil in his hands before using it to soften your skin. He takes his time, smoothing those big hands over your shoulders, down your back, along your arms. You tilt your head back when he warms your breasts, squeezing and fondling your tits. He murmurs in your ear the entire time, and he has to fuck you with his fingers to quiet you when he stops because just his hands on your tits has you wet all over again.

He dresses you, too. Helps you slip into your undergarments, fastens the cage for your skirts over your hips. He ties them skillfully, and after he layers your skirts over the farthingale, he gets you into your corset. It’s intimate as he does this. Even with your wide skirt, he comes closer, over your shoulder, and he tugs at the laces at your back, pulling it tight with firm grunts. You sigh when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hand skimming over your breasts as they sit nice and perky between stiff fabric and whalebone.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, unnerving…the way ya look…”

You close your eyes, “S-Simon, please…I’m already dressed…”

He chuckles, “I know. I know.”

But when he has to leave again, you nearly come with him. You fasten his armor for him, help him slip each piece of leather on and click every piece of metal into place. You tie his cloak and slip his mask on, and you try and duck your head when you flip his hood up, but he catches you, tilting your chin up.

He huffs when he sees your face. Tears sliding down your cheeks, lips wet with them, eyes all glassy and red. He draws you up onto your toes, pressing his mouth to yours through the mask, and you hold onto him tightly, digging your nails into his chest armor and threatening to not let go.

“I want to go.“

“No.”

“Simon, let me go,” You gasp, begging, gripping his hood in firm fists and not caring that his armor is cutting into your front. “Let me go with you, I can’t do this anymore, I want to go, I can do it.”

You aren’t sure if Simon underestimates you. You think it’s more that he does not want you to see him in a place where he is most true. Where he wears the least of a disguise. He does not know he wears it the least with you, and that you have already seen his blood and how it curdles under his skin. You like it that way. You like him angry…and mean…and terrible. You like him when his sword is dirty and his armor needs polishing and his mind thinks of nothing else besides war. He should know this by now. He should know that you see him and see what he is even more than his king, more than his men.

He couldn’t scare you, even if he tried.

“War is not where women go,” Simon snaps. His tone is harsh, even for you, and you stiffen when he grips you by the jaw and rattles your head a little. “Especially not one like you, my love. War would eat ya, eat ya fuckin’ whole. Look at ya…” He huffs, deep, sliding that gloved hand down your throat to slip it beneath the neckline of your dress and fondle your breast with a firm grip. “Beautiful. Meant for my lips…for these dresses…meant to be held in my hands, not bleed from stray arrows, because tha’ is surely the least of wot they would do t’ya if they knew ya were my wife. Now ya will wipe these tears, ‘n see me off, and then ya will come back inside like a good girl, ‘n you will wait for me here until I come back.”

Your bottom lip trembles, and you scowl up at him. Not indifference, but frustration, and Simon doesn’t think it suits you.

“I’m sick of waiting for you, Simon,” you spit. “It’s all I ever do, wait. Wait for you to come back, alive or dead, I never know. And don’t say you do this for country, that is a lie.” You shove him backwards, but he barely budges when your hands touch his chest, a rigid wall that does not give. “You do it because you like it. You’re a bloodthirsty dog, and all you do is bend to our king’s will.”

A lie, but you tell it anyways, because you want something, and he will not give it to you.

“That is my duty.”

“Your duty is to me,” you snap. “Kings come and go, but I will not.” Simon stills. He glares down at you from behind his mask, and perhaps this might terrify his men, but that you are not. You are his wife, and you are protected by that title alone. The only man to ever lay a hand on you would not live to see another second, himself included. “Now you will let me join you, or so help me God, Simon, I will not be here when you return.”

You do not expect the full-bellied laugh that leaves him. His armor shakes with him, and you grind your teeth, narrowing your eyes. He uses his thumb to force his mask up, and then he cups the back of your head and draws you in for a sloppy kiss. You resist at first, but when he feeds you his tongue, you melt. You kiss him back, letting him draw you closer, and you sigh as he tangles his fingers into your hair and cradles you with those big hands.

There is nothing more to say. Simon neither confirms nor denies, but you taste it in his mouth, his devotion. Not wrong, not right, but just so–he has many responsibilities, but you are the only one that will remain the same. One day, his king will die, and he will serve another, but the space you have made beside him will never change. Even when you die, because he knows you will go before him, there will never be someone else to fill it. You and you only, the woman he found and made his, the one he demanded lest he kill his own country for it, it will always be you. Soft and sweet, you are, but the Lord knew Simon could only have one woman, and he made it be you; the one spitfire enough to defy her own king because she trusted his love enough for it.

Would you commit treason to save his life? Would you watch a king die if it meant your beloved lived? 

Would he?

He thinks about what you have said when he takes his fleet across the water. He runs his tongue over his teeth behind his mask, breathing deep when he thinks about your proclamations of duty. Of change. Of what remains when other things move, of the kind of life that waits for him when he comes and goes with a king’s order. He thinks about how easily he is taken away from you, and he knows there is truth in what you feel. It is not really Simon that sacrifices, it is what he leaves behind, and that is you.

It’s never angered him before. He had accepted the fact, as early as your wedding day, that he would leave and come back, then leave again. It has always been the way of his life, come desire or not, so it bothers him that of all the things that surprised him in his life, it would be missing someone that shocked him the most.

Missing his wife. Missing the serene perfection of one woman, and the perfect place between her soft thighs. Every day that he finds himself between them is the best day of his life, he reckons, so now he feels bitter about staring at a freezing ocean amongst his men because he will go weeks without her.

Her. Her. Her.

He is bitter, yes, until he is not.

It comes in a letter from a messenger on horseback. They have been stationed in a foreign land for weeks now, watching slowly as the stone walls of a castle at their front crumples day after day from the stones filled with powder that ignite what is wood and break what is rock. The letter is sealed with wax, with the motif of a snake. It is given directly to Simon, whose name is scribbled in the letter, and when he reads it, he tastes ichor and smoke.

So the great phantom has come to seal my fate. I am not in the business of letting what is mine be taken. Even if you have brought your all, it won’t be taken from me.

I heard you have a beautiful new wife. I heard you paid for her in blood.

I shall do the same. I will hang your sword above our marriage bed.

Ghost is not someone that bends to the threats from foe he cannot look in the eye. Words are so empty. It is nothing like when he stands just a few meters apart from them, eyes fixed against one another, as they decide whether today they want to live or they want to die. The letter means nothing, but he’s surprised by the heat that bubbles under his ribs at the mention of his bride. He meant it when he said you were not meant for war, and that meant in this regard, too–nobody was allowed to talk about you, not like this, not ever.

When his king orders him home, Ghost crumples the note and tosses it into embers. He watches it burn, and then he orders his men to set to flame the ground around the stone walls.

So men like him can be goaded, it seems. His resolve is not as strong as he thought.

The weeks make you anxious. All you do is sit and collect dues and tell the maids which dress you want to wear and which you do not. It is peaceful and boring, and you wish Simon was here to make your days more exciting, but he is not.

His letters are the only things that keep you occupied, truly. He writes to you about war and loneliness, and you write to him about the mundane of domesticity and the ache he leaves behind. Sometimes, his letters come folded with pressed flowers he finds along the way, and you start to collect them, putting them away in small boxes or using them as bookmarks as you go through Simon’s library.

He has many books. His most loved books are those of war, of history, and you smooth your fingers over the pages he has dogeared and find comfort in reading the same words that he once did. You learn, as well. While in your studies as a girl, they made you learn arithmetic and the flowery bits of history and art, here in Simon’s house, you learn of strategy and weaponry and military tactic. Sometimes you disagree, and you write about these disagreements to Simon, and he writes back, pleased with your observations. He told you once that if you were a man, he would want you in that tent with him, beside him, deciding on which formations to take and when to strike. You responded saying that you could be that for him anyway. What did your sex have anything to do with whether you were right or wrong?

Simon agreed.

But I would never invite you here, dear wife. You have to understand that.

When your queen asks for your audience for dinner, you oblige easily; finally, you have something to do rather than add up numbers or sign a document on Simon’s behalf or read another fucking book.

You don’t want to wear all the costume your maids insist on, but you appease them after they repeatedly explain to you what your title means. With a drawn face, you let them tie your corset and layer your skirts, and you watch in the mirror as they braid your hair and drape large, obnoxious jewels over you. You grimace at the tiara they fit into your hair, and your elderly handmaid pinches your cheeks and tells you to put on a fair countenance, Your Grace, lest you make the Duke look ungrateful.

You bite your tongue from snapping at her. She should know that Simon would say nothing about your countenance; all he would do is fix whatever was bothering you until you smiled again.

You arrive early enough to have tea. Your queen is so excited to see you; she gushes when you meet her in the throne room, pulling you up from your curtsy so she can hug you tight, squealing. When you try to address her with a curt “Your Majesty,” she shakes her head, pressing her hands to your cheeks and giggling, “No need for formalities now. Call me Victoria.”

You hide your displeasure with a small smile. Now that you are no longer her lady-in-waiting, she allows you her name. Is it because she sees you more as equals, or because now you’re allowed to be somewhat of friends?

You must be some kind of friend. She sizes you up like you are one. She wears England’s colors this afternoon. A fire red dress adorned with gold accents, a dragon pin holding her shawl. She wears magnificent red and gold jewelry, but she’s looking at your dress, and you can see the slight twitch of her eye. You are wearing French lace, and she doesn’t like it. Or maybe she doesn’t like the color, the accents of navy blue and silver that you wear.

The skull motif that is woven into your tiara and printed on your coat and sewn into your dress. Does it insult her? That all your life, you wore nothing but browns and beiges and grays, were invisible to her, and now you represent your house, visit her as your guest, and bear an honorable name?

You were no one when you served her. Just a girl, no close family, no friends, just a distant uncle who gave you to the crown that hoped you could be of service. That was to be your duty for all your life–to serve the king’s wife until she wanted you no more or until she was gone. To cater to her every need and every wish, no matter the time of day or night.

Now you sit across her, more noble. Refined. Wearing a dress she despises, perhaps because she likes it more than her own.

Over tea, she gossips about the other ladies she has visit. You’ve heard this before, but you’ve never been included in the conversation. She talks to you, and she wants to hear your opinion, and you find yourself uneasy as you try to think of what to say. She is your queen, and you want her to like you. When you worked for her, you earned her favor by always warming up her jewels before she put them on, by making sure she had her tea ready in the morning at her bedside, by always holding the fan she so loved for when she inevitably had a hot flash. Now, as her friend, you weren’t exactly sure what to do. You suck in a soft breath and look at her, and then you purse your lips.

You think it best to agree with her. To be on her side. You might not be her direct servant any longer, but you still must fall under her favor. A queen’s favor can be just as powerful, especially if she occasionally has the ear of her husband.

“Well, that’s not very kind of her,” you say finally, and she laughs.

“No! She’s such a prude. I think her husband doesn’t sleep in her bed enough, if you know what I mean,” she winks at you. You giggle at that. “Speaking of husbands–” She pops another cake in her mouth. “How is yours?”

You reach up and tug at your necklace a bit, smiling nervously.

“Oh, uh…” You clear your throat, “He’s doing very well. I hear his latest campaign is quite the success. His majesty is very smart, heading for the east that way, I’m sure they will be victorious soon enough.”

Victoria smiles at the thought of her husband. His intelligence. She always used to talk to you about how many hours he worked, how she hated when he was away, how she wished he was home more so he could give her a son because she was so, so lonely.

“Wise words from the duchess, aye, my love?”

You jump a bit at the low voice from behind, and when you turn, you gasp, immediately standing and falling into a delicate curtsy. John Price waves his hand, coming further into the room, shaking his head.

“It’s alright,” he tells you. “Please, sit. You’re here as my guest.”

You stand and lift your head, trying to relax. You take a seat, smiling nervously, and Victoria smiles giddily at her husband. When he bends to kiss her cheek, she fawns, reaching for his hand and squeezing it before taking another piece of tart and eating it. John hums before motioning for one of the staff to fill your cup again with tea. He eyes you curiously, taking in your appearance. You sit up at that, performatively brushing off over the skull pattern on your corset. John runs his tongue over his teeth, smoothing a big palm down his wife’s long coils of hair.

“Since you’re here, I’d like a word, if that’s alright,” John says to you. His tone carries a little more authority now, and Victoria sighs, whining a little.

“John, please, she’s my friend. Can’t it wait–”

“That wasn’t a question, Victoria,” John bites. Her face falls a little. She swallows and tucks her hands into her lap. You’re reminded as you look at the slight wobble of her lip that there is no one truly above John Price, not even her. You keep your face neutral, but if you were invisible, you’d pity her.

What a shame her husband sees her as less than. How embarrassing. Your Simon would never. Your Simon waits until you finish speaking before speaking himself. Your husband kneels to take off your shoes, your husband tears your skirts to get a taste of you, your husband used his teeth to sever a man’s throat just to have your hand.

What did John Price do to get his wife? Who did John Price kill to have her hand? How many bruises did he earn around his knees on their wedding night from eating her out? As many as Simon, whose knees were black and blue by morning?

No, you suppose not. How unfortunate. How pathetic.

Victoria picks up her skirt and stands, pasting a big smile on her face. It doesn’t reach her eyes, and you can see the way her hands shake a little as she scurries off. She scowls as soon as she turns away from John, clearly annoyed.

“I’ll go check on dinner,” she says, but it is soft and unenthusiastic.

When she goes, the room falls quiet. At the nod of John’s head, the staff leave, and you keep still in your seat as John sits across from you, picking up one of the cakes in front of him and breaking off a piece to busy himself. He keeps his eyes on his task of cutting up the cake in small pieces, focused on his hands and how they work. You watch him carefully, steeling yourself.

You anticipate a conversation between man and woman, not a king and his lesser.

“Simon’s been away for some time. I bet that’s difficult for you.”

You straighten your posture, realizing what this conversation will be. By his tone, John seems to think you a bored, stupid housewife, perhaps. Uneducated. A woman, no thoughts in her head. You let your face relax, and you fold your hands in your lap. Maybe now is the time John should learn who you are and who you are not.

What you have become and what you no longer are.

“I do just fine, Your Majesty,” you say finally. You pick up a spoon and drop a cube of sugar into your tea, and you stir, picking it up to take a long sip. John is curious by your content. You have a quick tongue. “I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?”

John laughs. He narrows his eyes a bit at your clever response, taking a large bite of the cake and running a cloth over his beard. His eyes sparkle a little.

“So you know.”

“Know what, Your Majesty?”

“You know I gave Simon orders. And you know he didn’t listen to me.”

You purse your lips, but he sees the shine in your eyes. The lack of surprise. His face twitches a bit, and you shake your head. You blink slow, and it irks him to see you so calm. He is your king, and Simon answers to him, and you are his wife, so you must answer, too.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I could have your husband’s head cut off for treason for that, you’re aware, aren’t you?”

You tilt your head to the side. What an odd thing for John to say. What an odd thing for John to contemplate, since it would never come to pass. “Don’t be daft, my king. You wouldn’t want to do that.”

John slams his fist on the table, making the plates and cups rattle with his frustration, but you do not even flinch. You blink, stone-faced, and it makes his nostrils flare. He recognizes that glare, he knows it well. He has seen it before, stared it down many times in rooms just like this. Only now, he is not fighting for land, he fights for control of the one man that he has always been able to rely on. Simon has followed him into battles outnumbered by a thousand men, and only now he ignores an order? Only now he chooses something different?

“Now, let’s be civil, Your Majesty,” you say softly. You smile at him, leaning your head in your hand. “Is there something that you need from me? I have a feeling you might have encouraged this dinner just so you could see me in passing, so why don’t you just ask me what you wanted to ask me?”

John lets out a deep breath, leaning his elbows on the table, lowering his voice. He leans towards you, and you admire how blue his eyes are. John is quite a handsome king, but he does not captivate you. It has been a long time since John has tasted blood, and he lacks the edge that you crave dearly.

“I need him back here, is what I need,” John murmurs.

“My king, I couldn’t get him back here any more than you could, even if I wanted to.”

“Now who’s being daft?”

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. John is not a stupid man. He created a beast of a man, and he is trying not to poke it too hard. You shift, brushing down your skirts, and you let out a low breath.

“Why did he refuse?” You ask finally.

“What?”

“Why does he ignore your order to come back?” You ask again. “I can’t think of a lot of reasons why he would stay. So why did he ignore you?”

John clicks his tongue, smoothing a few of his fingers over his beard. He averts his eyes, looking out the tall windows, frowning a little at the grim weather. The weather is always grim here, but it irks him at the moment, makes him scowl a little harder.

“I was…informed that there was some sort of letter,” John explains. “Some threat.”

“I don’t follow. He gets lots of threats. And terrible letters.”

“Was about you this time, Your Grace.”

You close your eyes at that, shaking your head. Simon would never be so foolish as to be baited by baseless threats. He barely bats an eye when someone even in front of him draws his sword. He is so comforted by his ability to win, by his dreams and his visions that have not yet happened.

“That’s absurd,” you breathe. “Simon wouldn’t…”

John chuckles, but there is no humor there. “Wouldn’t he?”

“I still don’t understand what you expect me to do,” you roll your eyes, looking away. “Simon is…he’s not…he doesn’t listen. It’s why he’s good at this, isn’t it? He doesn’t really take orders, he’s…I…”

John has never complained before about the way Simon chooses to lead. Oftentimes, it is an order ignored that has made it so that he delivered another crown at John’s feet. Simon asks for forgiveness, not permission, and John has barely batted at eye at it. He sees Simon as some kind of distant son, but this refusal bothers him so?

John leans forward. “You need to understand something here, Simon is a rabid dog,” he spits. “And sometimes I let him off his lead, but this isn’t like anything I’ve had to deal with. I need you to call him back here.” He scoots closer. “England needs you to call him back here. To me.”

You narrow your eyes a little. England needs you to call him back? What kind of sick sense of patriotism is he trying to instill in you? John is stupider than he looks, to think a woman like you would show loyalty to country. You are loyal to your husband, and nothing else, because what has king and country ever really done for a woman like you except for dispose of you?

You wear Simon’s colors, not John’s, and you will wear them to your deathbed.

“If I do this for you, my king, then you owe me,” you whisper. He laughs again, no humor, and he picks up a goblet and fills it to the brim with wine. He drinks half before slamming it down onto the table, spilling it over his hand.

“Kings do not owe their subjects.”

“Quite right, Your Majesty,” you agree, picking up your napkin and dropping it onto the table. You stand, giving him a polite curtsy. “But I am not doing this as your subject.”

“Everything you do is as my subject.”

“You put your entire right to the throne on the back of one man,” you say softly. You are not accusing him, you’re reminding him of a truth. “Simon is why…he’s why your counsel still listens to you. He’s why your people are free from famine, why…why your taxes get paid on time, why your kingdom is still standing, no thanks to your father who wasted this place’s fortune on women and liquor.” You shake your head. “You have an eye for conquest, Your Majesty, but you lack the execution of any plan you conjure.”

You are not wrong, and John knows this, and it’s why he hasn’t spoken up yet or interrupted you. The man before, his own father, was a drunkard who spent all their money. He drank himself into the grave, and the only reason John stands before you now is because of Simon. A man who he fought beside, who he commanded, who once John’s duty became reality took up the mantle and finished what his father never could.

John would be in the next history book you read because of Simon, and it’s Simon’s name that will never be written. They do not bestow legacy to men who serve other men.

“Where…Where did you learn to speak to men this way?” John scoffs. “I am your king.”

You must have hit a soft spot. John is defensive now, and men only deflect and insult when they are cornered with the truth. They don’t like being held in front of a mirror.

“You are king because my husband made it so,” you correct him gently. “And Simon is a loyal dog, and that is good for your sake, because if he had any desire for your seat, it would be his.” You come closer, your heels sounding, and John glares down at you; but you glare right back because you are protected by your name and what you can do with it. John knows this, and it angers him, but he seems to have difficulty facing the truths of his own making. “But he is not your dog anymore. He’s mine.”

Your pen on paper is aggressive. You can tell because the splotches of ink are deep, bleeding black sinking into white as you put angry word to parchment. Not even a fortnight later, you are playing cards with Victoria, and you see Simon’s silhouette standing in the doorway, hood shadowing his masked face as he observes. When you look over your shoulder where John sits, and you meet his eyes, he looks away from you with a grim understanding.

Simon answers your call. Always.

At dinner, John is in better spirits. He drinks with a big smile, eats more than one plate, and he picks Victoria up by the waist to make her dance with him when he asks for the music to be played louder. Simon sits, fidgety, gloved hands moving in and out of fists as he watches you cut into your food and eat it with a blank face. He huffs beside you, his armor stiffening as he sits up straight, and you let your fork clatter onto your plate as you turn to glare at him.

“You were thinking with your cock, Simon,” you spit. “That is how men like you get killed.”

“You ‘ave no idea how men like me get killed because there are no men like me,” Simon growls. You roll your eyes, standing, and he grips your wrist angrily, tugging you close until you fall into his lap. You sigh, shaking your head, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and making him look at you.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But I’m not wrong. It is how you’ll lose. You know better than that, Simon. To fight someone because they taunted you in a letter, it’s playing the fool.” You cup his cheeks, keeping his eyes on yours. “You don’t need me to tell you that, and yet here we are.”

He breathes slow, closing his eyes for just a moment. He thinks he came for this, just a little. For clarity. Reason. It comes from you in waves, and it’s comforting to hear. It is something he knew, and yet it only makes sense now that you have said it.

“I know,” Simon mutters. “I know. Y’r right. I’m sorry, luv.”

You ask him to apologize when he undresses you. You ask him to apologize again when he sinks into a hot bath with you. You ask him a third time when he is in your bed, a heavy weight between your thighs as he licks and sucks at the soft skin of your tummy. He begs, lowly, let me ‘ave it, and you will, but he has to say he’s sorry again.

“‘m sorry,” he breathes, sucking on your inner thigh, and you close your thighs around his head, forcing his mouth against your cunt.

“Again, Simon,” you whisper. “I wanna hear it again.”

“‘m sorry,” he slides a rough tongue between your folds, breathing shakily when he tastes the oil that he smoothed over your skin only moments ago. You taste so good, you smell so lovely, coming off of you like fumes blinding his senses so that nothing else but you makes any sense at all. When you open your eyes, you think about where you are, and you nearly come thinking about what you have wrapped around your finger.

Not even your king tells your husband what to do. Not even your king commands his men, they won’t listen, he’s not who they turn to when things go belly-up, it’s your husband, and your husband answers to you.

You weren’t sure about it until today. Seeing him when you asked him to come, it flooded you with something that hurt. You could tell from even so far away that Simon was salivating under that mask. You knew the only thing separating his mouth from your cunt were the other people around him (and they were not privy to seeing you naked).

It is such a thing to observe. John needed a lead on Simon when he was his dog. You need no such mechanism. Simon never strays, not with you. He sits proper when you ask, and he speaks when spoken to. He tears at unwanted flesh, and he comes when you call.

John cannot give him all that he desires. Perhaps he thought what Simon truly wanted was fame and fortune. Legacy. But like most things men do, John does not observe. He takes in only what is right in front of him, and he makes assumptions. Simon is not like other men. Fame and fortune do not matter. He does not care about legacy. What matters to Simon is what he can hold in his hands. The ground under his feet. The steel in his hand. The woman underneath him, spreading her legs, inviting him in.

You love Simon. You love Simon more than anything in the entire world, but it would be a lie to say that you are not at some advantage here. Simon is all-consuming. He is the pinnacle of duty and honor and everything that a man is supposed to be, but Simon is also weak. There is something that he wanted more than anything in the world, and now that he has it, he will do anything to keep it, and that makes him vulnerable. Subject to all kinds of new things. Revenge. Retaliation. Pain.

Manipulation.

Maybe you should feel bad about it. Maybe you should feel guilty, but it’s hard to feel anything like it when there’s a big bear of a man between your thighs slobbering on your pussy like dessert. It’s hard to feel anything but bliss when he’s tracing the letters of his name into your cunt and making you see stars and fucking you into the silk sheets like it’s the last time he’ll ever have you.

It is men who govern your world, and if this is how you must move in it, then so be it. You will not feel bad. You will not be sorry for doing what anyone else would do. John thought he could keep his hand there, muzzle his mutt, but you like him this way, and you’re certain John doesn’t fuck the way you do.

He’s mine.

It isn’t John that commands an army, it’s you; or maybe your cunt, but that belongs to you, too, so it is you, isn’t it? You’re the one that lets him inside, that whispers in his ear, that tells him things you know he wants to hear to make things move in your favor, so it’s you, right?

Not John. Not Victoria. Not their counsel. You. They have stepped on you your entire life. They have made you small and inferior and sad for all of your existence, and they gave you something feral knowing it could eat you alive, and now you are the hand that feeds, and they are forgetting that if they bite too hard, you have something that will surely bite harder.

A collar would suit him, you think. He would look so pretty. He already is, the terrible beast, prettiest thing you’ve ever seen (the necklace your drape over him does just fine, a pendant with his motif that you hope reminds him of you). You don’t care if people would say his face is quite ugly. It is, very much so, but you never see him this way. Whenever that mask falls, your stomach flips. He takes your breath away. His intensity, his raw form of love, the look on his face–there is nothing else in the entire world that will love you the way he loves you.

“You came back for me?” You ask. You have a leg tangled between his, and his fingers are between your thighs, a shadow of a smirk on his face as he feels the mixture of your cum and his. He grunts a little, and you tilt your head to look up at him, your chin on his chest.

“‘f course,” Simon mutters, and you kiss his chest gently, keeping your eyes on his.

“But not for John.”

He turns his head, looking down at you more intently, and he scoffs. You know it’s true, but you want to hear it, anyways. You want to hear Simon admit, unknowingly, that you are the tether.

“John is afraid, and I don’t listen to ‘im when he’s afraid. Makes bad choices.”

It’s almost adorable that this is what Simon tells himself. That he comes back for his own sake, and not for yours, even though they are one and the same, intertwined and inseparable.

“Simon,” you say softly, and he sighs, his eyes closing briefly when you kiss him gently. “You have to listen to your king when he asks you to come back. Making a…rash decision about war strategy is one thing, but…” You cup his cheek gently. “Make things easier for me, husband. If he asks you to come back, you come back.”

This time, at least. Just this time.

Simon snarls a bit, but you swallow it when you kiss him. You maneuver yourself over him, straddling his hips, and he grunts as you sink down on him. He swells hard again very quickly, releasing a deep breath as you give a slow roll of your hips.

“Make things easy for me, my love,” you whisper, and he leans his head back, putting two big hands on your ass and moving you with ease. “Appease your king, yes? For me?”

“Can’t say no when y’r pussy squeezes me like tha’, sweet’eart,” Simon groans, and you giggle, planting your hands on his chest and starting to move a little faster. You lean your head back, your mouth falling open, and you gasp when you sink down completely, your ass touching his thick thighs as you tighten around him. “Fuckin’ Christ–”

“I hate when you go,” you whine, digging your nails into his chest. He hisses, planting his feet on the bed, and he fucks up into you with a renewed fervor. “Hate when you’re not here, Simon, I-I miss you, miss this–”

“Nghh…fuck, I know,” Simon pants. “Can feel it. Feel you.” You squeal when he grips you by the waist and turns you over. He makes it seem so easy, tossing your weight underneath him, and your arms circle around his neck as you draw him closer, hanging onto him. “Y’r so fuckin’ pretty…”

“Simon–”

He kisses to devour. His jaw hinges wide to kiss you sloppy, breathing in the moans that you can’t contain. Simon always fucks so well, stretching your thighs as wide as they will accommodate so he can make room for the goliath of himself that he is. He suffocates, in a good way, and his cock never fails to stretch you for all that you are worth. Simon holds your jaw in place as he grinds into you, relishing in the wet smack of his hips against yours. The fat of you satisfies him. It makes him growl with delight when he grabs onto wide hips, your fat arse, the body that you hold that tells him you are fed and warm and content. It draws his grin wider, and it makes him drool thinking about having you again and again and again, until you beg him for reprieve and his heir sits in your womb.

Simon fucks for sport. He wants to see how stupid he can make you. He wants to know how long you’ll cry for, how fat he can make your tears. He wants to know how loud you will cry, how many times he can make you cum before you’re incoherent, he wants to know the extent to which he can use you that you will still be awake enough to say his name just one more time. Simon is not satisfied until he pushes your limits.

It is what a Riley does. They endure, and they eat, and they consume, and they take pleasure in the all-encompassing indulgement of things they have never been allowed to have. You are a woman, so he knows this will come easy for you. So often, he knows, women are not allowed to indulge at all, so he wants you to. He wants you to cry and moan and eat, and he wants you to do it bearing his name so that no one will ever tell you no.

Simon says no to kings, and they placate, or they die. His wife will be offered the same respect, and he’ll stand behind her with a sword to make it law. When you bear his children, he will expect the same of them–to give their mother utter devotion, lest they answer to his hand. There is no one above you, not God, not country, and certainly not blood. They will know what their father did to have you, and they will spill the same amount of blood to keep it that way. They will do it for you, and then they will do it for their own lovers, and if they don’t have the same sentiments, that love is not true, and Simon will not give his blessing.

Everything else is trivial. He knows this, understands it, because history repeats itself. It is cyclical, and you are right. Kings come and go. Sons die to other sons, fathers make bad decisions, and crowns are passed to bastards and back again, until lineage is merely spectacle and power changes hands often enough to lose generational merit. There is one thing that remains, and it is what you do while you are on earth, while you are standing on the ground you were born on. Even faiths change; when men find it suitable, they change the rules, and then you worship a different God, so Simon sees no point in staying loyal to any of it.

Instead, he is true to what he knows. To what he can see and what he can feel. With John, he remembers being a young man, fighting alongside him. He follows John, to an extent, because he knows what it is like to share blood with him on a muddy hill and take an arrow for him.

With you, time stands still. He saw you in a room, and he had to have you, and he brought nations to ruin to make certain no one would bat an eye when he asked for your hand. He saw you in a dream, too–he saw you laying in his bed of furs, wearing nothing but a tiara of his making, wet between the thighs because that is how it’s meant to be. He recognized you when he saw you that first time, and he doesn’t know how, but saying no to you, really saying no, will change that vision, and he couldn’t bear that.

Your voice echoes. You’re moaning, overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop. The hair around his cock rubs your clit too many times, and when you come around him, you’re a shaking, withering thing, back bowed and nipples pebbled. Your toes curl as you cry from the starry-eyed, hot pleasure, but he keeps moving, chasing something in the distance that he can taste, so close.

Yes, Simon ignored his king. Yes, Simon did not ignore you. Yes, Simon admits, he came when you called, and he doesn’t feel bad about it, he doesn’t care how it seems. He would do it again if he had the chance. John could give him the same answer as you in every timeline, but he will only move if the command comes from you, and yes, Simon knows it makes him a liability, but crowns come with costs, and this is the one John must pay.

Simon will fight any of John’s enemies, but he won’t fight fate. He won’t fight what has already been seen, and he won’t fight what he already knows will happen.

With Simon’s cock in your mouth, you can make him deliver on promises. Sucking on the girth of him, you can make him an honest man. Taking inside of your mouth what you can swallow, you can make Simon do your bidding, and it is a hard lesson that John learns.

“Do this for me,” you slobber against the underside of his cock, and Simon relents.

“Make me happy,” you say, swirling your fingers against your puffy pussy, and Simon kneels with an open mouth.

“Just this once,” you whisper with his cum on your tongue, and Simon seals his choice with his hands on your tits and the taste of himself in his mouth.

When you make eyes with John across the low lights of the throne room, he can’t help the way he admires you. You stand beside Simon, looking the essence of nobility and reverence in another intricate silver and blue dress. The train of your skirt glitters with delicate jewels hand sewn into the fabric, and the headpiece you wear adorns a skull insignia. Your corset has been tied just right, thanks to Simon’s hand, and your own fingers are clasped between his. Your corset and jewels are of exquisite detail–one of the newest designs from Paris, structured and elegant and accentuating every curve of soft skin.

You glow in the room. His wife must be wearing a dress just as expensive, probably more, and yet his eyes (and everyone else’s) cannot help but follow you. Your own eyes won’t leave Simon; you flutter your lashes whenever he looks down at you, big smile on your face, and even when there are people curtsying and bowing to you and giving Simon their gratitude between bites of cake and glugs of wine, your attention never really strays. 

John feels inadequate in his own fortress; suddenly, red and gold sicken him, and England tastes sour in his mouth.

In a few generations, John’s house will likely fall. He will make heirs that will fail him, he knows this. In a few centuries, his family will not sit in the same place, but a Riley will remain right where they are supposed to be. Banners of blue and silver will always fly. If Simon does not make sure of that, then you will.

It’s what happens when you force women like you to their knees. When they grow up invisible, always in the shadows, forgotten and sold to the next man who will pay a higher price, it’s what you learned to do. It’s all you’ve ever known, to make the best out of something terrible.

Simon is the same, in that sense. You understand him in a way his king will never be able to. Simon has nothing, and neither do you, and Simon was stepped on and berated and tortured to the point of no return. It is why blood does not scare him and why death doesn’t come knocking. Time will be the only thing capable of killing him, and everyone that stands up to him learns that when they eat his blade.

In the quiet of the evening, Simon undresses you. He sits behind you on the bed, fingers pinching the bows at your back and unraveling them. He traces your corset, thumb circling over the skull pattern of the belt around the small of your waist, and he tastes something warm in his mouth at the sight of it. You look so beautiful–more beautiful than he’s ever seen you maybe, decorated in his colors and wearing his motif and sitting so pretty.

“You wanna know something…funny?” You ask quietly. Simon finds the ties of your skirts and starts to undo them. He grunts in reply; he might sound standoffish, but you know he’s listening. “John…John made it…he makes it seem like you don’t really listen to him. He implied that…in the face of adversity, you might only listen to me.” You put your hands on the front of your corset to keep it from falling. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Wot’s so funny?”

You swallow, looking down. Your hands fidget, and you take a closer look at the ring you wear, the delicate gold band he gave you not so long ago.

“I…”

“Mmm…might be right, innit?” Simon snickers after a moment. You feel him stand, and you look over your shoulder as he peels his mask off and grins down at you. He tilts his head to the side, and you smile back at him a little. “Do anythin’ for ya. Disobeying a king…” Simon cackles, tearing your corset off, tossing it onto the floor as he walks you backwards. “Ignoring one…” He shrugs, “Oll in a day, love.”

“He can hang you for it,” you whisper. “Cut off your head. Cut off mine.”

Simon lays you back on the bed, spreading you out, climbing over you. You blink up at him, and he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I would ‘ave seen it. I would know.”

He would have seen it in a dream. It would have come to him in a reflection in a pool of blood on the battlefield. It would have come to him, the voices in his head, he would have heard them amongst screaming, or perhaps in the void that he finds his mind in when he’s between your plush thighs.

You can’t help the smile that graces your face when Simon kisses the curve where your jaw meets your neck. It is fun, you suppose. Fun to control the tides that set the courses of history. It is fun and almost unbelievable that a king bends to the will of one man’s wife just because it solidifies his name.

You wrap your hand around the twine that dangles from Simon’s neck. It twirls around your fingers, easy, solid. Simon’s eyes are dark, and they are yours, and when you smile, so does he, because this is where you are meant to be, forever and always.

“What if I want more?” You ask. Simon hums, low from within his chest, and you run your tongue over your teeth. “Did you see that in your dreams, Simon? Hmm? Do you know what I’m asking for? What it is that I really want?”

Simon smiles. A dark one, with teeth, and you know he hears it. What more means for a duke and his duchess. What more means when you have all the money you could ever want, all the land you could ever need.

What more means when you have climbed your way to the top and still desire more. More, more, more. There are not many steps left to climb. There are not many places left to take, not much more of the world that can really be yours, but Simon looks ravenous, and Simon looks hungry, and if you fuck him now, you’ll have him right where you want him.

When you tug on what hangs around his neck, Simon bends. Simon follows.

(✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)

I feel like john price is the kind of old-fashioned guy who surprises you with a trail of roses leading up the bed where you find him naked, sprawled on his side with a bottle of expensive champagne covering his crotch

a cheeky grin on his face as you eye up his thick thighs, burly chest and pudgy tummy

sigh do you see the vision?

The entitlement is crazy like is it that hard too see that other races exist cause it must be nice to be the default ლ(ಠ_ಠ ლ)ლ(ಠ_ಠ ლ) shout out to black writers your work should never go unnoticed

please do not comment shit like this on my page. it is not a compliment that you like my stuff but have the black reader tag blocked. if you haven’t noticed MY WHOLE BLOG IS FOR BLACK PEOPLE. Every! Single! Story!!! go read something else if curly hair makes you upset

Delicious \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

H A U N T E D ! ♱✮♱

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

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

pairing! simon ‘ghost’ riley x chubby fem reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but whatever. just another coincidence, right?

wrong!

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh, but if only you knew.

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

his poor sweet and naïve silly girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

kelly talks too much.

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

aww. you’re thinkin’ ‘bout him.

how sweet.

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

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

kelly fills your pretty little head with stupid ideas.

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

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

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

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

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

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

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

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

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

fucking fantastic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

at least, that’s what you think.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“i believe we were having a conversation.”

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

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

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

“because i fucking miss you.”

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

“how’d you get—“

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

“simon-“

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

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

you’re turned on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah.” you sniffle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

which to him, you were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and its simon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“that answer your question?”

“sure fuckin’ did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“she’s so pretty.” simon chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This right here THIS IS IIIIIIT

Men that still get shy when you tell them how attractive they are to you :((

Their cheeks get all hot and flushed, they still get a weird, funny feeling in their tummy. They still try to cover their mouth to hide the bashful smile that makes it’s way to their face, but it’s fruitless because you’re always pulling that hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

They still get flustered when you tell them that you want them to fuck you, that they’re so hot and you’re so wet, even though he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a reaction. He’s simply manspreading on your living room sofa, mindlessly scrolling through channels when you make yourself known on his lap.

It’s subtle, at first. You press innocent kisses to his cheek and he can’t help the quirk in his lip. The smile itching its way. You trail to his neck, kisses getting a bit slower, wetter. He’s not so sure it’s innocent anymore. You start sucking on his jugular and he has to grit his teeth to prevent the groan that’s aching to come out. And when you add teeth? He’s gone.

You don’t even have time to register before he’s got you pinned underneath him on the sofa, veiny hand gripping your throat to suck his own marks into the skin. “Can’t even relax on the couch without you trying to fuck me.” He tuts, annoyed, though you know he’s anything but. 

He grinds his hard length into you and you can’t help but moan at the delicious friction. “You just looked s’good. I can’t help it!” You whine into his neck, and he’s thankful you can’t see the slight blush that makes its way to his face.

He composes himself before deciding to take pity, pulling his shorts halfway down his legs while you pull your panties to the side. You’re both too eager so you settle for rubbing against each other. The head of his cock brushes your clit just right, and you’re so wet, he’s sure he could just slip in.

It doesn’t take long before you’re both cumming, your clit throbbing against his cock, while he paints your cute, pudgy tummy white. 

It’s just not fair, you make him feel like a schoolboy.

— TOJI, NANAMI, YUUTA, Geto, BAKUGO, Iida, Izuku, AIZAWA, Enji, LEVI, ERWIN, Reiner, Armin, IWAIZUMI, Ushijima, OSAMU, Tsukishima, RINDO, Draken, Giyu, SANEMI, ILLUMI, ZORO, Ace, LAW

💕Would be a dream come true 💕

ೃ⁀➷ domesticity, könig

könig got off to watching you be a mother.

könig hated to admit it. the way he inevitably got turned on whenever he came home from long missions. the way whenever he’d walk through the front door of your home, muddy and dirty boots immediately being taken off by the welcome mat so he didn’t stain the innocence of your home with his trauma and duties from work—the bludge in his pants grew at the sight of how you lived such a domestic life.

he was sure his view was a sight that nearly every man wished for at some point in their life. he felt blessed. blessed that no one else at his base had the privilege to come home to this. with you holding a chubby baby full of fiery strawberry blonde curls—undoubtedly belonging to him—on your wide hips, so full from giving birth no more than two years ago.

your daughter was a bit on the paler side despite having beautiful brown skin, and you always wondered if your genes even fucking tried to show out for you when creating her. she looked and acted so much like her father, the only way to probe that she was yours were your shared lips and her having your hair texture. everything else belonged to könig.

“papa wird bald zu hause sein, kleine liebe,” you reassure your daughter of her father’s return home soon as she began to grow cranky, a daily sign of her missing him. you had just finished breastfeeding her, and that was evident in the way the majority of your tits stuck out like a sore thumb from one of your man’s thin wife beater shirts. hey, you were home alone with nothing but pretty trees and bush surrounding you.

könig couldn’t help but smile at the back of your head as you hummed her a little song as you stirred your pot of food. the way your braids were tied down in a bright pink bonnet, the way the fat of your grown woman body hung out of your booty shorts that did nothing to hide the swallow of your ass, and how your white painted toes filled themselves in your fur slippers. the primal hormones in him filled with testosterone practically rushed to the blood of his dick as he watched you dance around the kitchen with your pretty baby.

this how you got pregnant in the first place.

every day he was grateful he decided to snatch you up and take you back to his home country with him. the way you adapted to his culture the way he did yours—you made sure to teach your baby her two native languages, english and german.

no one knew where you were, and könig liked it that way. you three could play house in peace for the next few months, at least until his next deployment. it was the safest option for you. to take you both out the states where his personal life could possibly be exploited.

no one knew where in austria exactly könig was from, making it harder for anyone to possibly track down his pretty little family. you were able to work in peace without having to worry about someone finding about your husband’s real job and eventually figuring out where your daughter went to daycare. it was peaceful for you in austria. as far as the neighbors knew, your husband was in the military occasionally on long deployment missions.

not exactly a lie.

he was never 100% at ease leaving his two girls anywhere, but he knew that if you were at least living in a place that he knew like the back of his fucking hand, his anxiety would calm down just a bit while on missions.

you fall completely deaf to the sound around you as your daughter babbles in your ear while you cooked. the delicious aroma of your wonderful food fills your husband’s nostrils as he finally decides its time for him to finally come out the shadows.

your baby continued to babble things in german-english as you began to plate food only for yourself like you’d done for the past six months, completely unbeknownst to the masculine presence behind you.

“my pretty wife always manages to make such delicious meals,” the hoarse voice manages to startle you to the point where you drop your pot spoon on the floor. “been starved for a plate, lover.”

your daughter turns her head before you do, and immediately fights to be put down from your arms. at the sight of her father, she gives a bright two-toothed grin and opens her arms. “daddy daddy!”

könig wastes no time in ripping off his mask and plastering a big kiss on his baby’s cheeks. “meine hübsche prinzessin,” he greets, engulfing “been a good girl for mommy, yeah?” the ice blue eyes question as they falter over to you. you’re still standing in shock that könig chuckles at the innocence on your face. the same one he’s been in love with for years now.

he didn’t blame you though, you didn’t expect him back for at least another two months.

könig wastes no time in walking over to you, and of course the first place his hands touch are your wide hips. his pink lips smash onto your brown ones and he wastes no time in engulfing all of you into him.

he doesn’t miss the way that small tears fill his shirt. he knows you’ve been alone in a secluded area, in an almost foreign place where you hardly knew anyone. he knew how lonely you must of felt having to do all this by yourself. he was here for you now.

god, he missed you. his good, pretty little wife.

✨Heaven✨

this but with simon. y’all know i love this video

“bet i can make this pretty pussy squirt huh?” simon looked down at you with malevolent eyes. you’re breathing hard and heavy as you strain your neck to look past your chubby tum and watch simon’s assault on your puffy clit.

“nghh!” you’re crying out as his movements against your cunt continues its speed. you began to feel this odd pressure bubble up in your lower region. “s-si—si, si—i have to-i have to pee!” your voice hurries in a high tone as simon stares down between your legs with dark concentrated eyes.

your man chuckles and ignores your cries with the most malevolent grin. unsurprisingly, he knew you weren’t gonna cum normally like you did. no, with the way your pretty cunt was fluttering around his thick fingers more than usual and how your spongy walls gripped his digits like a vice; simon knew exactly what was on the way. “no you dont, sweetheart. ‘s somethin’ else. let it out for daddy, yeah?”

you shake your head urgently, almost feeling as if this was torture, knowing you secretly loved behind held down by your man like this. but you couldn’t hold that burning feeling in your pussy anymore; you had to let go.

“please please, i’m gonna piss myse—“ your mouth falls open as little spurts of clear liquid erupt from your cunt, simon grinning and fastening his assault on your poor clit when the intensity of your orgasmic waterfall increases. you feel tears fall down your heated cheeks as simon’s practically knuckles deep between your legs, still earning that orgasm from you. “oh my g—fuckkk!”

“daddy got you,” he cooed, continuing to rub at your fat nub while you squirted all over him. “daddy got you, lovie. let it all out princess.”

“nghh daddyyy!” you cried out, feeling your breath taken away from you as you couldn’t stop squirting for the next thirty seconds. you don’t know how you had this much built up in you; but the longer simon’s thick digits were inserted into your pussy, the harder you came around him.

when he finally sensed you’d had enough for the night, simon removes his fingers from inside you, eliciting a heavy exhale from you. with a loving kiss to your clit, all puffy from overstimulation, simon places a final kiss on the inside of your thigh with a silent you did good baby in his gesture.

“such a pretty mess you made, mama.”

I don’t know who needs to hear and understand this but your favorite anime characters eat black women ass DAILY. Matter of fact, I’ll even take it a step further and say they love black women so much— just as much as any other women.

Since people hate when black women write about their favorite anime characters loving them😑

daddy dom!Katsuki who gives you tummy rubs when your anxiety is through the roof. heats up his hands just a bit and holds you in his lap as he rubs circles into your skin, whipsering in your ear how much he believes in you and how he'll never, ever, let anything bad happen to his baby.

support fat girls with weird curves

support fat girls with no butt

support fat girls with small boobs

dont just support the hour glass/big booty “acceptable” fat girl