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weebsinstash · 3 months

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Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them

I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure

He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino

I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"

But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED

One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"

And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')

Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--

When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.

But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"

And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"

And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"

At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--

The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.

IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails

"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"

"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"

"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"

"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"

"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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fleshbride · 6 months

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PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

1K notes · View notes

persephonesdreams21 · 2 months

Text

NSFW Alphabet with Lee

A/N: I had to write something for him. This is the character that threw me into my Timmy obsession. Ugh Lee, my tragic handsome baby. I need everyone to write more fics for him kay thanks! Also side note- I try to keep my readers a little ambiguous so that everyone can feel included- but Lee and a chubby! Reader just make sense to me.

Warnings: Not safe for work. Smutty. Talks of Switchy/Bottom Lee. Lee x AFAB!Reader.

After Care(what they're like after sex)

Lee is surprisingly gentle after sex. He’ll grab the towel from the hamper in the corner and clean both of you up with it. You were super embarrassed about it the first time he did it but like. It’s something he enjoys doing, a part of his inner routine. He wants you to open your legs and let him wipe you down. Then a lot of the time he wants you to play with his hair. Needy thing.

“Spread em” Lee drawls as he comes back from the bathroom with a wet rag. You’re still loose limbed and fuzzy brained and it takes a minute for you to realize what he’s saying “Seriously, I’ll clean you up”

“You don't have to, it’s fine” Your messy cum wet thighs clamp shut.

He approaches you slowly, like you’re a skittish animal that might bolt. You’re two seconds away from burying yourself under your thick duvet and hiding from him. Lee sits by your feet and reaches for you. His rough fingers run along your smooth calf.

“But I wanna. If you’ll let me”

Body Part(their fave body part of theirs, and of their partners)

Lee’s too skinny, his words not yours. All ribcage and gangly limbs. If he’d have to pick a favorite, he’d say his hands. They’re capable; he’s got long tattooed fingers and calloused palms from hard manual labor. He can build just about anything with them. He can take care of you with them.

Lee loves your thighs and what's between them. They’re so wide, so plush. You complain about cellulite and ingrown hairs and he’s just like? What? They’re perfect. Let me use them as earmuffs. He wants to be cradled by them forever. Loves your belly too any thing he can dig his fingers into.

Cum(anything to do with it)

Lee is into watching both his cum and your own drip out of your puffy pussy after an intense bout of fucking.

It’s almost routine now, like praying before bed. Like watching the sun rise with your morning cup of coffee warming your hands before work.

The sex with Lee is always good. Always surprising. There’s nothing this man won’t do to you, or let you do to him. It’s an adventure with your best friend, one that ends in you both writhing in pleasure.

With him filling you up.

You and Lee hadn’t been together for long, your six month anniversary’s just on the horizon, but if you know anything about this man. It’s that once he got the green light, he doesn’t finish anywhere but inside of you.

And then. Then he wants to see the damage. He wants to peel your thighs apart and stare right at your puffy, swollen cunt. Ah, his poor baby’s pretty pussy. He’s gentle as his bony fingers probe the tender lips. Spreads them-

There’s your hole. The one he’d just pulled out of, all tiny again now that it’s not stretched around his girth.

He watches hypnotized as milky fluid, both his cum and yours, leaks from inside of you. So much that your body just can’t hold it, no matter how hard you try.

You have your routines. Your prayers. He has his. His religion is right here. In between your legs.

Dirty Secret(self explanatory)

Lee loves anal play. On both you and him. This boy wants to be pegged!

“Have you ever done that?” He asks as he sucks on the end of the joint he’d rolled for the two of you. There’s no judgment in his voice, just curiosity.

The topic is anal. And if you’ve ever had it.

“Yeah” you bite in your bottom lip. “It kinda sucked if I’m being real”

You’d had an ex who’d shoved his prick up your ass and made you cry. He hadn’t even taken the time to properly relax or lube you up. It had kind of traumatized you to be honest. You tell Lee all about it, because you tell Lee about everything these days. There’s no secrets between the two of you.

He frowns, thick brows furrowing “nah, it’s not supposed to be like that. That fucker didn’t treat you right, it’s supposed to feel good”

You shrug “If you say so”

“I do. I love the way it feels whenever anyone does it to me” Lee says it so casually, but keeps an eye on you, gauging your reaction.

“Really?”

“Really” it’s factual, punctuated with a little nod “I’d let you try it. If you want. We can like- do me first and then I could show you how anals actually supposed to feel”

Your pulse picks up with excitement. You can feel it in your pussy, and you know the way you squeeze your thighs together to get any kind of friction isn’t discreet.

Lee pretends not to see but his smile is hungry.

“Okay, yes. I want to try”

Experience(how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

Um. He’s so experienced. With both men and women. Lee’s done alot in his young age. Had to, to survive a lot of the time.

When he realized you didn’t judge him for his past, that's when he really started to feel the emotional attachment form.

“You’re not a bad person for what you’ve done, Lee. Everyone’s done shit they’re not super proud of…it doesn’t take away from who you actually wanna be”

Favorite Position(this goes without saying)

He doesn't really care. But he’s partial to you riding him. He loves feeling pinned underneath you and watching you bounce on top of him.

Goofy(are they more serious in the moment? Are they goofy?

Lee’s a fucking goofball. He’s making you giggle. He’s choking on laughter as you choke on his cock. He can be serious, for sure. But a lot of the time the two of you are very playful with one and other.

Hair(how well groomed they are)

Lee never really cared before you, but he gives himself a courtesy trim now. Still a pretty thick dark bush. You kind of love it. You also do not play about personal hygiene- showers Lee. You’ve got to take them. You know there was a point in his life when he didn’t have access to them. Had to bathe in rivers and McDonald’s bathrooms- but that’s not the case anymore.

He tried to pretend he doesn’t like your expensive skin creams you share with him but you’ve got him hooked.

Intimacy(how they are during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Lee has had a lot of sex with a lot of people, but it’s never felt like this. He's addicted to you. He wants to be close to you, inside of you, like 24/7. He really cant believe he gets to be with you and alot of the time when he’s fucking you he’s just staring at you. In awe.

Jack Off(masturbation headcanon)

Lee’s always got a hand down his pants lol. He loves to masturbate. He loves when you watch him stroke his cock. He wants to watch you play with yourself too. It’s a whole thing.

Kink(one or more of their kinks)

Peg him. Also- mommy kink. Yes. Lowkey might have a thing for breastfeeding/titsucking. He just thinks your’re the most luscious woman he’s ever met…and yeah he does lowkey have mommy issues.

Location(favorite places to do the do?)

After fucking and being fucked on the side of the road or in dirty bathroom stalls, he really just loves having sex in the safety of your apartment. In your big cozy bed or the comfortable couch.

He also likes it when the two of you go camping or stargazing and he can fuck you under the night sky, with only the stars at witnesses.

Motivation(what turns them on? Get’s them going?)

You and that teasing little smile you give him. The one where your canines look like fangs. The one that's usually followed by coy barely there touches and feather light kisses. Yeah. All it takes is a smile.

No(something they wouldn't do? Turns off’s)

He doesn't want to hurt you. He’s hurt so many people before. He can't do anything past mild choking and spanking. He WON'T.

Oral(preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc?)

He loves it. Both giving and receiving. But he just feels so good when hes between your thighs. He’s your pretty boy when he’s sucking on your clit. PLEASE sit on his face.

Pace(are they fast and rough, slow and sensual?)

Lee wasn't used to someone wanting to take their time with him. It almost made him uncomfortable the first time that you slowly ran your hands over his body. Cherishing him. Savoring the closeness to him. Kissing every inch of his skin, not caring about scars or cheap tattoos. It makes him feel flayed alive. He learns to love slow paced, agonizingly tender sex.

Quickie(their opinions on quickies, how often?)

Hell yeah.

Like he gets home from a long day at his shitty grueling job he just wants to quickly fuck your brains out, and then watch one of your shared TV shows before bed.

Or when you’re getting ready for a nice dinner out with your friends, and your makeups done. And your hair is all bouncy and you smell good enough to make his mouth water.

Or in the car before an aquarium date. Lee will take what he can get when ever he can get it when it comes to you.

Risk(are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Loves taking risks in the bedroom. Honestly once the two of you have built that trust between each other, there’s not much you won’t do. Lee’s a Sub leaning Switch(in my humble opinion) and will literally lay back and let you have your way with him. He doesn’t care. There’s no shame in his sex game.

Stamina(how many rounds can they go? How long can they last?)

He can fuck. Over and over. He’s like a rabbit.

Toys(do they own toys? Will they use them?)

Lee’s game. But then again he’s game for pretty much anything. He likes making you writhe on your vibrator, overstimulating you until you're sobbing. Have you made him wear one of your butt plugs to dinner? Yes you have lol

Trips to Sex Shops are frequent, fun affairs.

Unfair(how much they like to tease)

Lee’s a fucking TEASE. He's just too good at playing the game of cat & mouse.

Volume(how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc)

Lee is sooo vocal and you adore it. You’ve never been with a vocal man and he’s such a whiner. He’ll whine and grunt and beg. He’ll dirty talk you to the ends of the earth. He’ll call you Mommy, Pretty Girl, Sweet Heart. Babe. Sexy. It all makes your head spin.

Wild Card(a random headcanon for the character)

Lee wants you to fuck him. Wants you to hold him in your arms and play with his rim. Prostate massages are “awesome babe. Here. Let me show you how to do it”

X-Ray(let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big thick cock on that twiggy man. A healthy 7 1/2 inches and girthy. The first time you see it your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You guess its true what they say about skinny tall boys.

Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)

Lee’s a very sexual creature. Like in a primal way. Every interaction can be erotic with him and its honestly a little bit overwhelming to be around.

Zzz(how quickly they fall asleep after)

Lee has his little routine after sex. Cleans the both of you up, half assed sometimes, and then he’s out like a light. No seriously. Lee has been homeless more than a few times in his life(I was exploring. It was by choice! he’d protest when you pointed it out) he’s slept under bridges and in tents and surfed lumpy couches. You and your warm pussy and your lush bed knock him out.

#lee bones and all #lee bones and all smut #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet x reader smut #bones and all #timothee chalamet

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moonhoures · 7 months

Text

Watch Yourself

🕷️ kinktober — day 17: mirror sex🕸️

pairing: jeonghan (svt) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut, angst/comfort, fluff

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, [reader is insecure & has negative thoughts about herself/her body so if that makes you uncomfy please don’t read this! mentions of stretch marks, weight gain, cellulite] established relationship, husband!jeonghan, body worship, mirror sex, fingering, marking

word count: ~1.9k

synopsis: you admit to your husband that you’re having negative thoughts about yourself again, so he tries to remind you why you shouldn’t

a/n: i usually don’t write with a focus on specific body types, so i tried to keep this vague but *shrugs* if you don’t feel comfy reading that’s okay! also, sorry for the wait! something came up and i wasn’t able to queue it in time 🤥

posted: october 17, 2023

kinktober masterlist

The day had barely started, and you had already decided it wasn’t going to be a good one. You were rudely awoken at the ungodly hour of six a.m. The sun wasn’t even up yet, but you were. You tried to go back to bed, but each attempt at closing your eyes and relaxing were fruitless. You just couldn’t get comfortable again; you were too hot or too cold. The room was too quiet, and your thoughts were too loud. With a heavy sigh, you peeled the covers back and quietly stepped out of the bed to use the restroom. While you washed your hands, you looked at yourself in the mirror. And just like every other day this week, you frowned at your reflection.

You had a history of negative thoughts of your body. But you had spent a long time recovering from that toxic mindset. Your husband was a big part of that process. Jeonghan knew about your issues, and he had no problem letting you know that he liked you every and any way you looked. Even after five years together, no matter if you were in fancy clothes or sweatpants, his eyes lit up the same way when he set his eyes on you. He made you like your body for the first time in a long time. But some times were harder than others, and this week had been a hard time.

Nothing had really set it off. You had just been having low self esteem that then snowballed into nitpicking the way you looked in the mirror. If it wasn’t your face then it was your arms, or your stomach, or your legs, or your breasts. Sometimes it wasn’t just about your physicality. You felt like crap. You had mood swings and unwarranted anxiety. You overthought a lot. You felt like you weren’t enough, or you were boring.

You tried your absolute best to save face in front of your husband, not wanting to burden him with your issues, but he knew. He always knew. The slightest shift in your behavior would tip him off. Today was no different.

After you spent several minutes staring in the bathroom mirror, mentally berating yourself, you re-entered the bedroom. You shut the restroom light off but noticed Jeonghan’s bedside lamp was turned on, bathing the room in the softest white light. Your steps came to a halt just out of the doorway as you made eye contact with him. He was sitting up on his side, nearest to the bathroom, looking at you with a small smile just before he yawned.

“Decided to be an early bird today?” he joked.

You knew he was joking, but you couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of guilt for waking him up. You frowned once again, “Did I wake you? I’m so sorry. You can go back to bed, I’ll go in the living room.”

You went to leave the room, but he stopped you with one word, “No.”

For the second time, you came to a halt mid-step and met his eyes from across the room.

“Come here,” he gestured you over with two fingers. As you got closer, you could tell how tired he was. The skin under his eyes were smudged with that faint purplish-brown color that he only got when he didn’t get enough sleep. Your heart sank, “Sit.”

You did as he told you, sitting facing him as he scooted over to make some room for you on the edge of the bed. He looked into your eyes, searching for something, but you weren’t sure what it was yet.

“What’s been going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?” he asked, a stray piece of his fringe falling over his eyebrow. You so badly wanted to push it back where it came from. His hair looked so soft first thing in the morning.

“Nothing, I just couldn’t go back to sleep,” you supposed it wasn’t a complete lie.

“________,” he said your name the same way a disappointed parent would, “Please talk to me.”

You took a deep, shaky breath, mentally preparing yourself to unload, “I’ve been in one of my moods lately. Just feeling bad about myself. About the way I look. The way I feel. It’s just . . . been a lot.”

Your husband’s soft features seemed to harden the more you spoke, as if he was upset or angered by the words he was hearing. You averted your gaze from his, too ashamed to meet those beautiful brown eyes. For a moment he didn’t speak, he just looked at you. You started to feel uneasy under his stare, but then he was moving, carefully pulling the sheets back to free his legs. You asked him what he was doing, but he didn’t respond.

So, with worry setting in, you sat on the edge of the bed. You watched as he got up from the bed (in only his briefs) to cross the room where your full-length mirror was propped up in the corner. Despite the mirror being pretty hefty by itself, he picked it up with what looked like minimal effort. He placed it right in front of the wall opposite from where you sat, then he climbed back onto the bed, settling in right behind you.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, and you finally met his gaze through the mirror.

“What about your body do you not like?” he asked.

You felt frozen in place, and it didn’t help that his hands felt like they were anchoring you down. You weren’t going anywhere, as far as he was concerned.

“Tell me,” he urged you again.

You swallowed the nervousness building in your throat. Your eyes, along with his, raked over the image of your body in the mirror. From only a few feet away, the first thing you noticed was how bloated you looked, “I’ve been gaining a little weight in my stomach.”

Instantly, Jeonghan’s hands were slithering from your shoulders down to your torso. His lithe fingers splayed out over the soft fabric of your shirt covering your belly, “This stomach? The one I spend hours a week cooking for to make sure it’s fed and happy? To make sure you’re healthy? A little weight isn’t anything to worry about. It’s normal, ________.”

You refused to make eye contact with him, for fear of your eyes tearing up.

“What else?”

Your eyes spotted the top of your arms, the faint stretch marks you had grown accustomed to over the years were just barely showing from where your arm brushed against your ribs, “My arms.”

Your husband’s hand encircled your wrist, carefully turning your arm so that it was outstretched and your stretch marks were on display. He leaned down just enough for his lips to effortlessly press kisses to the delicate skin there, the shallow fissures not deterring him in the slightest. Truthfully, he never noticed them until you brought them up.

“My legs have cellulite,” you muttered so quietly, not even realizing you had said it out loud until he moved his hands down to your thighs.

His blunt fingernails drew goosebumps to the surface of your skin as he dragged them smoothly up your leg. He gripped your flesh in his palm, then soothed it with a gentle, massaging gesture, “These are not things you should feel bad about, _______.”

He whispered that against the shell of your ear, making you close your eyes to keep tears from spilling. You felt his supple lips press tender, healing kisses against the skin of your neck and shoulder. His hands snaked over your body, revisiting the areas you’ve pinpointed. Without words, he was telling you how much he loved your body. Exactly how it was. He always would.

“My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said, his fingertips sliding between your thighs. Your skin there was naturally warm. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grazed over the material of your underwear while his other hand parted your legs. He loved that you didn’t wear pants to sleep. This way he could see the space between your thighs in the mirror; in fact, his eyes were locked on it, “You don’t think my wife is beautiful?”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. You didn’t know how to respond to that; or rather, you didn’t know how he wanted you to respond.

“Tell her she’s beautiful,” he spoke sternly, not giving you the option to say ‘No’.

“She is,” you said, a shaky gasp escaping you as his fingertips dipped beneath the edge of your panties.

He rubbed the pads of his fingers over your slit, his words ghosting over your neck as he spoke, “She’s what?”

“Beautiful,” you said.

“That’s right,” he continued to stroke your sensitive skin that was growing wet the more he worked you up. Your chest moved up and down with every heavy breath you took. He was holding back a smirk at the effect he had on you. And you could definitely feel the effect you had on him, his erection was practically poking your ass from behind, “My wife is the most beautiful woman on Earth.”

You nodded, not even really listening to what he was saying anymore. All you could focus on was the way his fingers were circling your clit perfectly. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him have his way with his lips and teeth on your neck. Hickeys were blossoming all along the skin there, and you couldn’t care less.

“You’re always the prettiest person in every room,” he talked to you while your hips chased after his fingers that were relentlessly pleasuring you, “You’re the smartest. The most beautiful. The funniest. The most caring. You’re the best partner I could ever ask for, you know that, don’t you?”

You were too far gone, eyes beginning to close. Your thighs were starting to ache, wanting to close around his wrist. Jeonghan simply pushed them back open with his free hand before using his fingers to tilt your chin up. He caught your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror ahead of you two, and he looked like a teacher on the verge of reprimanding a student.

“__________,” just the way he said your name sent a chill down your spine.

“I know,” you agreed and, for the first time this morning, he believed you.

“Good, now I want you to watch yourself cum,” he gripped your chin gently, keeping your eyes locked on the sight before you.

You couldn’t deny him even if you wanted to. He kept you locked in. His fingers were bringing you to orgasm, his soft fingertips keeping a determined pace on the button at the top of your folds. They sent your pussy into a frenzy, clenching and pulsating around nothing, arousal leaking out onto your skin. It was getting to be too much, so you had to pull his hand away. But he only intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your arms up to your chest as he hugged you from behind.

“Don’t keep all these thoughts to yourself,” his gentle voice floated over the skin of your shoulder before he pressed a kiss to it, “As your husband, I’ll be here for you whenever you need me. However you need me. I said that in my vows, and I meant it. Every word.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

#seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #[🕷️] kinktober 23 #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #jeonghan imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader

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teaboot · 5 months

Note

What are "transmasc" and "genderqueer"?

I just woke up so bear with me, but like

Western society has invented this idea of "man" and "woman", right? And we SAY it's actually real, and based on tangible things like sex characteristics- primary, like dicks n' hoo-has- and secondary, like tiddies an facial hair an cellulite.

Well, it turns out that those things ain't divided "correctly" into the man and woman categories all the time.

People with dicks sometimes get tiddies, people without dicks sometimes grow beards and chest hair, beauty standards like "woman thin and hairless and short with small nose and tiny feet" and "man tall and muscular with a beard and broad shoulders" aren't appearing in nature the way we say they should.

(These gendered standards also change over time, but that's a different post.)

What's more, some people have multiple primary characteristics, and it's not even super rare! (Again, worth a different post, and not one I'm really in a position to make.)

So, we say that we didn't just "invent" two exclusive boxes to sort a wide variety and spectrum of characteristics into by pure brute force, but evidence says otherwise. So do we change the rules of our society to fit that evidence?

No, we pick something else to support our beliefs.

Learning about genes and DNA and chromosomes came much later in the game, so most people's grasp of it is this: Men have XY chromosomes, women have XX chromosomes, and no matter what your body is shaped like, that determines which box you go in. Whatever you look like should be padded or amputated or shaved away until you fit in your box.

Except.... we now know that people who outwardly appear to be the perfect ideal poster children of "man" and "woman" are living full, natural, healthy and unbothered lives totally unaware that they have the "wrong" chromosomes. No visibly "mixed" characteristics at all. So there goes that idea out the window.

Unless we say that no, our invention which is fact still holds up- there's just a few mutants and freaks and dysfunctional anomalies that just sort of happen sometimes, like factory flaws that wouldn't exist if things were running as they should.

So what do we do with factory flaws? We "fix" them. Or pressure them to fix themselves. Or, if they can "pass" one way or another, shove them into that box and tell them to shut up about it. Don't fit into either? Then pick one, and make yourself fit.

But... then, if we can pick... if hairy women with flat chests and small hips can shave themselves down and throw on some padding and powder her face to be accepted.... why can't anyone else?

Or, if that same "woman" went, fuck it, cut his hair short and embraced all the "man" characteristics, went by different pronouns and stepped into the "man" box... wouldn't that be okay, too?

And, he'll, what if they changed nothing about themselves and decided to opt out? We've proven that these "universal facts" don't *actually* exist and exceptions are everywhere, so fuck it, right? "Man" and "woman" don't really mean anything tangible anyways, so why not do what makes you happy?

And since, again, evidence shows that "man" and "women" aren't perfect binary boxes with perfect binary traits- why bother living up to those traits at all? Why can't someone assigned to the "woman" box live in the "man" box with long hair and heels on? If I makes him happy, what's the harm?

We don't like this, though, because when you build two boxes that contain the whole world, and people start escaping, or slipping out to live in the one they like more, or switching, or building their own, people begin to wonder why they're living in boxes at all. If we even need boxes.

And the people who maintain the boxes tell us, it's because the boxes are safe, and the boxes are natural, and the boxes have been here exactly as they are since the beginning of time anyways, and NO, they aren't just terrified of life outside the shelter of the box, you're the weird one.

Meanwhile, if we really looked into it, I imagine we'd find more people who don't fit their box criteria, or don't even like their box, at least as often as we find people who do.

Transgender means "someone who isn't in their assigned box".

Genderqueer means, "someone who isn't in their assigned box", but in a the same broad way that "transgender" is- Maybe a him, maybe a her, maybe both, maybe a they, perhaps a xey, and sometimes some of us move around.

I say I'm genderqueer, 'cause that fits me, but "Transmasc" to me personally means, "I know I'm not a woman, and I'm closer to the "man" box, but I'm happier wandering outside the "man" box than I am stepping fully inside. (Dysphoria is part of that, but again, in my opinion it's not vital to the experience.)

And I'm not one for destroying those two boxes entirely- they bring joy to a lot of people.

Just, you know. Maybe making more, different boxes. And maybe little camps out between them. And not treating people who roam the wilderness instead like rabid animals. Is the thing.

Long answer

#Long post #Text post #Gender #Transgender #Transmasc #Genderqueer #Correct me if I'm wrong I'm not fully awake and also wrong sometimes and also a lil dumb on top o that

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midnightbluebells03 · 17 days

Note

Hello! I was curious if you could do a dom!Abby x chubby reader, maybe some smut where the reader starts feeling bad about her body so Abby "shows" her how pretty she is *wink* *wink*

It's fine if you reject my request remember to drink water and have a good day/night :)

THROUGH HER EYES

CW - fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), negative self talk

WC - about 1k

Reader is described as fem and chubby, I based this off of myself a little as a plus sized girlie

No outbreak

Thank you for the request darling! And thank yall for over 100 followers 🖤

Leave me any requests in my asks xo

It all happened so fast.

Only fifteen minutes ago you were standing infront of the mirror looking at yourself in the new dress Abby had bought you. The one you had been looking at online for weeks but never hit buy. Because the truth was you didn't think it would look good on you. The model in the picture was tall, skinny, flawless. A stark contrast to how you saw yourself.

Your hands ran over you body as you took in how the fabric clung to you. How you could see the outline of your stomach, the cellulite on your thighs and the way your arms looked in the thin straps. It felt like you couldn't stop. Your mind relentlessly picking apart every bit of your appearance until there was tears forming in your eyes. It wasn't jsut the dress, you pinched at your round cheeks, fussed with your hair, you even thought about taking off your makeup.

Abby had been watching you silently in the doorframe of the ensuite bathroom. Her eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed tight across her chest. You two were supposed to be meeting her friends in half an hour but instead she shot them a text, saying you guys were going to be a little late. Before she pushed you onto the bed and dropped between your legs.

"Abby we don't have time-" your protest was met with two fingers slipping past your lips. You gasp for a second but hum softly before starting to suck. Earing a smirk from the girl below you.

"They can wait" Abby pulls her fingers out slowly, you try to chase them and earn a small chuckle from her. "You look so good I just have to" the feeling of her hand running up your inner thigh makes you need to bite your lip.

"I'm actually gonna change" you admit, glancing over to the closet, a slight frown on your lips. With a soft sigh you start to explain, not making eye contact with Abby as you do. "The dress is lovely baby, thank you I just think I'd look better in jeans or something"

"No" Her voice is stern, that same tone she uses when telling you to behave. But her hands are as soft as ever. Gently moving up further until she's brushing her fingers across your panties. Making you gasp. "No baby you're gonna wear this, you're also gonna look into that mirror" her other hand grasps your jaw gently, forcing you to meet your own eyes in the reflection. "While I show you how pretty you are okay?"

Despite the part of you that wanted to say no, that wanted to give in to the insecurity and self hate. You swallow hard, giving her a breathy. "Okay" as you watch her bunch the dress up your hips.

"You stop looking I stop" her hands pause on the waistband of your panties. Waiting for your nod before pulling them down. "Good girl"

That's how you ended up here. With your fingers tangled in Abby's once slicked back braid while her tounge works calculated circles around your clit. Your eyes fixated on yourself in the mirror. A twinge of embrassment in your chest that was being drowned out by the pleasure. The way her hands are so tight on your thighs that your almost sure it'll leave finger shaped bruises was enough along to make you wet. But paired with the soft moans she's letting out against your dripping pussy you couldn't help but try to grind into her face.

You tip your head down to watch Abby for a second, desperate to see your pretty girl. Starting to feel yourself getting close to the edge. But always the observer Abby is quick to notice, pulling back fully. Despite your moans and desperate attempt to keep her head where you needed her.

"I told you baby"

"Abby-" you plead, only cut off by her lips pressing to yours in a quick kiss.

"Shh" you watch as she gets onto the bed, positioning herself behind you. "Just moving a little, don't panic" She brushes the hair out of your face, pressing kisses to your shoulder as she gets comfortable. Her hand moves past your stomach until she reaches your clit. Making you moan softly as she slowly traces circles around your sensitive bud. "Now look" her free hand grabs your jaw, keeping you looking in the mirror. You can't help but focus on how her steel blue eyes stay glued to your body. Looking over you like you're her prized posession. "There's my pretty girl"

Her fingers slowly dip down to your hole as you lean backwards. Positioning yourself further into her chest as she slips in. Two thick fingers stretching you out as your eyes roll back for a second. "Fuck" you quickly fix your gaze, looking at your own flushed face as Abby slowly moves in and out of you. Her other hand trailing down to massage your breasts through the fabric of your dress.

"Taking my fingers so fucking well" she bites down on your lobe gently, making you moan as her lips continue down your neck. Only stopping to mutter into your skin. "Always perfect for me aren't you baby?"

"Mhm" you try to reply through your pathetic moans. Watching yourself as Abby works you closer to the edge. Fingers curled up just the right amount to hit your g-spot. Your legs start to shake as you clentch around her hard. Using all your focus to keep looking in the mirror so she doesn't stop.

"Good girl, cmon baby cum all over my fucking hand" Abby groans into your ear, her movements not pausing as you cum. Your moans echoing through the room as you slump into her fully. Breathing heavily as your eyes finally break from the mirror, looking up to the ceiling. Abby presses a soft kiss to your head. "Cmon baby let's get you cleaned up". You shuffle forward and let her get off the bed. Listening to her walk to the bathroom, the tap running as she holds a cloth under it.

"Abby?" You call out softly, waiting for her to come back between your legs. Gently wiping you up.

"Yeah baby?"

"You should wear your hair down" you prop yourself up onto your elbows. Tilting your head towards her. "Your braids all fucked up and I think Manny will kill us of we're any later"

She chuckles before throwing the cloth onto your nightstand. Planning to deal with it later and starting to unravel her braid. Dirty blonde hair falling in soft waves. You sit up, pulling on your panties before fixing your dress. Looking yourself over on the mirror, expect this time you can't help but smile.

"Yknow this dress is cute"

#lesbian #wlw #fanfic #smut #writer #writing #fanfiction #tlou #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby tlou #request

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scatteredskittless · 2 months

Note

Would you be ok doing one with Husk and a plus size, insecure reader? It's ok if not. Sorry for the lack of detail👉👈

Plus sized! Insecure! Reader x Husk

A/n: OMG OFC !? ⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Warnings: None, just some fluffy headcanons !! It is written with an afab! reader in mind though

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌

🍺🃁 I don’t think Husk would realistically give two shits about what you look like to be honest, if he finds you pretty/handsome then you’re good to go lmao

🍺🃁 So hearing you say you don’t like the way you look is beyond him, probably wouldn’t understand why because in his mind there’s just more of you to love.

🍺🃁 But he does understand having insecurities, so he’d go out of his way sometimes to hype you up and make you feel good about yourself ♡

🍺🃁 “You look so good, baby”

🍺🃁 Also, thick thighs?? Tits?? Mghhhffnn,..

🍺🃁 this mf likes having something to grab onto what can I say?

🍺🃁 Put a tight fitting dress/jeans on and he would be sneaking glances at you all night, he loves when you wear stuff like that

🍺🃁 Husker does wish you were more confident in yourself because he thinks you’re stunning

🍺🃁 He also does NOT care about any kind of stretch marks or cellulite. he has bigger things to worry about than if his partner has something completely normal on their body

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles

#husk x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #husker x reader #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel comfort #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader

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generalkenobee · 9 months

Text

A/N: ok so I know this probably won't get many likes or anything but I literally love Chase sm so I need to write this just for my well being because I've loved him since I was like ten, hope you enjoy 💖🩷

Warnings: sfw and nsfw headcannons, aged up!!!, FEM reader (kinda)

SFW headcannons

•hand holding is such a must with him

•he gives the best hugs, especially when he's in his black sweatpants and sleep sweater because everything is just so warm and gentle

•hes insanely touch starved

•Chase has never had a partner before you so you have to be patient with him, for example

-(Y/N), I don't know why you asked me for help with your homework, it was super easy

He would say laughing, not realizing that he hurt your feelings because you genuinely needed help

-(Y/N), I can't hold your hand right now I'm clearly working on this

Chase would say annoyed while still looking at the screen of his computer

•after a while and some help from you he's learned that a relationship takes time and consideration

•my man lovessss your stomach, no matter the size or if you have cellulite, stretch marks, he loves it so much

•loves to kiss you everywhere, especially because the whole touch starved thing. Chase is always placing a quick kiss to your cheek while he walks by you, first thing he does in the morning and before he goes to bed is kiss you

•physically can't sleep if you're not in the bed next to him

•nicknames he calls you

-sweetheart

-baby

-honey

•whenever he writes your name he always puts a little heart next to it

•usually falls asleep with his head resting on your chest with steady breathing

•loves to have you run your fingers through his hair while he falls asleep and scratch his scalp

•loves when you kiss all his moles and freckles, just basic beauty marks because it shows that you love every part of him

•he gets incredibly jealous of everyone. He's not used to people picking him and genuinely wanting to be with him over Adam for example

•always has mints, gum, or breath, spray on hand

•he takes extra precautions before seeing you (brushing his hair four times, showing twice, brushing his teeth over and over again, making sure hes wearing an outfit he'll know you'll like)

•soooo good with kids

NSFW headcannons

•lovessss when you pull his hair

•so loud, like soooo insanely loud. Moans, groans, and when he gets close whimpers

•he loves when you cockwarm him while he plays video games or when he's working on something

•eye contact while he trusts up into you, it's almost like his way of thanking you for being so vulnerable with him

•things chase says during sex

-s-shit..you feel so warm..s-so welcoming baby..

-this all for me?

-thank you thank you thank you..

-I love you so much...

-its so deep..I-I can feel all of you...

•chase tries not to ever cuss, he thinks there's smarter words to use..but when he's close it's like a whole new person

-f-fuck..fucking shit baby I'm oh my god I'm gonna, aungh..

•this one time you let spike fuck you and chase got upset because he didn't remember any of it, and he also felt jealous for some reason?

•sometimes when you walk by, you'll slap him on the ass through his jeans and he jumps up in fear every time

•lightly grazes his teeth over your neck during sex and you can feel his hot breath against your pulse..

•I feel like he really wants to cum on your face but is way to scared to ask

I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO SAY ABOUT HIM SO IF YOU HAVE A REQUEST PLEASE SEND IT IN:)))

#x reader #chase davenport smut #chase #chase davenport #chase davenport lab rats #lab rats #lab rats TV #lab rats x reader #lab rats headcannons #lab rats smut #davenport #generalkenobee #chase davenport literally doesn't get enough attention and hes so fine like what?!-

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sapphicmsmarvel · 3 months

Text

acotar characters loving a plus size reader

NSFW bc of descriptors. But like, actual smut? Nah. also body worship vibes but again, not Explicit.

Azriel: if he could spend eternity between your thick thighs, it would never be enough. Whether that be his head, hand, shadows, dick, anything. He lives for it. He loves you in any clothes (especially his) but seeing you in a cute little sundress while he stuffs his cock into your cunt? Heaven on earth for this man.

Cassian: this man loves your hips oh my. He loves when you wear his shirts and your plush hips just peek out from the shirt. It’s a tantalizing mystery that he has to solve every time. Aka, whenever he sees it, he will eat you out. Either against the wall or in bed, always private because he refuses to let anyone else see you the way he does.

Rhysand: this man loves your arms. yall know that one jessica chastain and oscar isaac clip? Rhys always does that to you! He purposefully buys you dresses that will show them off! When you made your mating/wedding bargain with him, he made sure the tattoo did not cover your beautiful skin there. He loves holding your arms above your head while he pounds your body into the mattress.

Feyre: sit. on. her. face. She’s so in love with your size! Your thighs? She could die perfectly happy! Your tummy? Oh my Gods, the most beautiful sight to her is when she’s eating you out and can see those thighs quivering and stomach trying to catch a breath. She loves you in any type of clothes, but seeing you wear a dress? She’s floored every time.

Morrigan: your stretch marks are everything to her. She loves kissing them and tracing them with her tongue. She loves when you wear a netted or mesh fabric that shows them off a little bit. Whenever you wear revealing clothes that show them, she always has a hand on them, tracing them delicately with her fingers just imagining the sounds you were going to make that night while she fucked you.

Amren: She would never, in a million years, say it to your face; but she loves your cheeks. Both your ass and face. She loves how squishy and red your cheeks get when she fucks you (again, both of them). She loves the cellulite, the stretch marks. You look like a statue from her time. You’re her home.

Nesta: Her and Cassian have a type, it’s the hips. She loves when you wear a skin tight cotton dress. She can see the outline of your perfect body, the fabric hugging every curve that she is dying to sink her teeth into. She does bite in bed, but she can’t help it. How dare you look so fucking hot that she can’t contain herself?

Elain: elain isn’t one for vulgarity, but my gods your tits. She constantly has to catch herself from just face planting into them because she loves it there. A lot of times if you’re sitting at a counter or standing in a mirror, she’ll just walk up behind you and cup your boobs in her hands and just squeeze. She cannot help it.

Lucien: he is an Ass man. He likes having something to grip. He loves watching your skin recoil at the force of his thrusts. You’re just so hot it makes him breathless sometimes.

Eris: Like Morrigan, nothing, on this earth, makes him weaker than your stretch marks. Every time you have sex he is kissing and tracing, sometimes licking them. He can’t help himself. They’re just so pretty.

Tarquin: if you ever wanna put this man into cardiac arrest, wear a bikini. Or frankly, don’t wear anything. He will not complain. He’s not really a Territorial Guy, just a smug bastard that smirks and touches you when he knows people want what’s his. If you’re in your bedroom wearing just a robe he will 100% just walk by and untie it just so you don’t have anything on.

#acotar x reader #acotar headcannons #feyre archeron x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #nesta x reader #elain x reader #tarquin x reader #eris x reader #morrigan x reader #amren x reader #lucien x reader

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pinkanonwrites · 3 months

Note

I am back at it again with Cybertronians obsessing with human tummies, now with Thigh Jiggle and stretch marks!

First Aid feels like a bot who would be fascinated with a human with jiggly thighs. Watching the way the thigh moves like jelly when gently shaken and would trace digits over the stretch marks and cellulite on his favorite human :3 (I have chonky thighs and also like watching my thighs jiggle when I stim)

Oh, absolutely! (I'm not the absolute best at writing First Aid, so hopefully this feels in-character!)

For First Aid, feeling up your soft thighs and stomach is equal parts fascinating and self-soothing. Holding you and feeling your soft form often helps to alleviate the constant internal dialogue of his processor. For just a moment he can relax and just feel something, something soft and warm and pliant in his servos.

At the same time, I think there's a level of guilt about it that he keeps VERY well hidden. Because as much as he enjoys holding and squishing and feeling you, he's also painfully aware that you're a conscious being with your own thoughts and feelings and complex emotions, not just his preferred stress ball. Still, at least you seem to enjoy at about as much as he does. That helps to alleviate some of the self-loathing.

He'll trace your stretch marks with a single, achingly gentle digit, committing the dips and whorls of your unique organic markings to memory. He's fascinated by the way your thighs move, taut muscles rippling beneath a layer of unbelievably soft fat, molding perfectly into the gaps between his joints when he wraps his servo entirely around your leg. Nothing that soft is native to Cybertron, First Aid is certain of it.

#transformers #mtmte #first aid #idw first aid #transformers x reader #first aid x reader #x reader #suggestive #maccadam #pink chat #cheesebreadgremlin

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420faggyactivities69 · 4 months

Text

I have always been into feedism. The big, soft, jiggling tummies just always did it for me and after gaining weight on accident I decided fuck it, why not join in on the fun.

After all, I have a lot of self control, I can always just stop and loose the weight if I don't like it...

So I stuffed myself for the first time. And the second time. And the third time. And soon enough eating because I'm bored became the standard. I didn't notice it at first but slowly I was blowing up.

My clothes started to fit more snuggly than they used to, my thighs started touching, stretch marks appeared on my hips, what was once a flat tummy now had a considerable softness to it.

It made me horny beyond belief. Days off were spent doing nothing but stuffing myself silly and masturbating. On all fours, a pillow under me and between my legs, and the image of my body fattening up stuck in my head.

One day, I was doing just that. I layer there, on my knees, fat ass sticking out, playing with myself after a big stuffing. I came harder than ever before, the waves of pleasure making me curl into myself. And that's when I felt it. My belly slapping the top of my thighs for the very first time.

After riding out the orgasm I stood up to looked in the mirror and saw it - my, still bloated, belly had an ever so slight line where it was pushing out from my body. I sat back down onto my bed and finally noticed that my belly was actually starting to sit in my lap.

I felt so proud I celebrated with stuffing myself even more. After that day it became really hard to restrain myself around food. I ate anything and everything that came in my general vicinity. I'd eat a meal big enough to feed an entire family while fondling my growing belly and I'd still get a snack afterwards.

I was on cloud nine, my body was plumping up so quickly, I could actually feel the fat cells multiplying after every meal. I couldn't get my hands to stop rubbing my softening belly at every chance I got, I couldn't stop putting on old clothes that used to be oversized only to watch the buttons on them pop off, I could stop GAINING.

One day I was trying to actually cook for once and my back started aching. I felt the sack of lard pulling on my back muscles and my legs vere hurting from standing up for so long. Heaving and plopping my belly onto the counter to rest my back I told myself

"okay, maybe I got a little too fat. I had my fun but now I should really loose some of the weight. I mean, it won't long, after all, I have a lot of self control..."

So I finished cooking the meal, or something that was originally meant as just one meal, and took only about a third, thinking that I'm just gonna finish the rest some other day. I also promised myself that I'm starting working out tomorrow.

Of course, that didn't last very long. After finishing the meal my belly felt completely empty and within half an hour I went back to eat the rest. Needless to say the working out routine I planned got forgotten as well.

So I just kept my old habits up and denied even weighing that much. I mean, the scale must be broken, I'm not ACTUALLY that fat, and again, I have a lot of self control, if I REALLY wanted to, I can just work this extra weight right off. And so I kept gaining. And kept gaining.

And kept gaining.

And kept gaining...

Until my entire body jiggled with the slightest of movement. My enormous belly hanged halfway to my knees, a heavy sack made entirely out of pure fat. Big, shapeless, cellulite ridden thighs always touched, and the friction of them chafing against each other made it harder to walk. My head now always rested on a big double chin that wobbled every time my hand with sausage like fingers bought something up to my mouth.

I was in deep, and I knew I really needed to start to take it seriously. Attempt after attempt was made to loose the excess weight, but it always bought even more lard on my body. I couldn't stop shoving food down my throat, no matter how much I tried. I became unrecognizable to the people who knew me and loved ones started to get concerned about me.

But of course, I was too proud to admit that I got too fat actually couldn't help myself. In my mind, I was still in the "slightly chubby" phase.

And even I DID get too fat, I have a lot of self control, I can always just stop and loose the weight, right?

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isabella-kr · 1 year

Note

Are you still taking requests for Price fics??? Can I please get a fluff/smut with him and a reader who has insecurities about her body

I most definitely am!! Thank you so much for requesting!! The beginning turned out sadder than planned, so I’m sorry about that. Also, this isn’t my best work; I’m not sure why but my brain wasn’t braining when I was trying to write this so the quality is slightly off.

Marked Beauty

Do not repost

Synopsis: When Price catches her looking in the mirror for longer than usual, he can immediately tell something is wrong. When she voices her insecurities, he makes it his mission to show her just how beautiful she is.

Pairing: John Price x Female!Wife!Reader (I’m sorry, I’m a sucker for husband Price)

Genre: Fluff & Smut. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD

Warnings: Insecurities, dislike of one's body, Mention of stretch marks, scars, and cellulite, body worship, smut, description of male and female bodies, description of male and female genitalia, cunnilingus, fingering, penetrative sex, p in v, soft sex, creampie, use of ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’ (let me know if I missed anything)

Note: There is no mention of body weight or size in this fic. The reader is not described as having a specific body type - stretch marks and cellulite is something anyone can get no matter their size.

Word Count: 4.5k

General Masterlist COD:MWII Masterlist

GIF not mine (Boobies 😍)

He could tell something was wrong the moment she stepped in front of the mirror to brush her teeth. The way her eyes raked over her own body made his chest ache; there was a certain hatred in them, and he would even go as far as say she looked disgusted.

Feeling his heart break piece by piece, he stood up from where he sat on the bed and stopped in the threshold of the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom. She didn’t even notice his presence, too focused on judging every inch of herself. He approached her the moment she spat the toothpaste in the sink, his arms immediately moving to wrap around her torso and pulling her close against him.

She let out a small sigh when he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, and placed her hands atop his, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest pressing against her back. She almost smiled, but the moment she looked into the mirror again, her face turned blank.

“What’s wrong?” he muttered against her skin, his beard tickling her neck.

She exhaled sharply, internally scolding herself for allowing him to see through her. “Nothing’s wrong,” she sent him a small smile, “Go to bed, I’ll join you in a sec, alright?”

He shook his head and pulled himself up to stare into her eyes through the mirror. He said her name softly, his gruff voice barely above a whisper as he continued, “Please talk to me.”

She looked to the side and away from his concerned gaze, “I’m fine,” she told him.

But John didn’t believe her. He turned her around in his arms and placed his hand on her cheek, angling her face so their eyes would lock, “Sweetheart, we’ve been together far too long for me to believe that.”

He watched as her eyes glazed over, and she quickly hung her head to look at the ground; she refused to let him see her this way. To see her broken and on the verge of tears.

“Hey,” he attempted to lift her head back up, but she refused.

It was when she let out a choked sob, and when he felt her hot tears wet his fingertips that he brought her closer towards him. His palm cradled the back of her head as he pressed her cheek against his shoulder, his other hand reaching to rub comforting circles on her back. Her own hands grabbed onto his shirt and cramped it between her fingers as quiet whimpers left her lips.

“Shh-shh-shh,” he tried to comfort her, placing a loving kiss against her head as he swayed them from side to side. She clung onto him like her life depended on it, quiet apologies leaving her lips when she felt her tears soaking through his shirt. He could only shake his head in response and assure her it was okay, that she had nothing to be sorry for.

Once she began to calm down – her sobs ceasing and tears drying on her skin – he pulled away, cupping her cheeks in his calloused hands to look at her. The whites of her eyes were a faint red, and her face was slightly puffy from crying.

“Talk to me?” he whispered, his eyes begging her to tell him what was wrong - what he could do to help.

Hesitantly, she nodded, and the moment she did he felt like he could breathe again. He pressed his hand against the small of her back and led her back to their bedroom, where they both sat on the edge of the soft bed. His hands reached for hers and he held them, gently rubbing his thumb against her skin.

“John,” she managed to whisper, and he hummed, urging her to continue, “Do you still find me attractive?”

The question alone took him aback, but it was the seriousness in her tone that made him freeze. His brows knit together, and his eyes looked more concerned than before as he leaned forward. He searched her face for something, perhaps because a part of him wished this was all just a really bad joke.

“’Course I do,” he stated in disbelief, “What makes you think I don’t?”

She shrugged, her eyes gazing down at their intertwined fingers, “I just-” she let out a deep sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Hey,” he moved off the bed and crouched down in front of her, keeping his hands on top of hers as he looked into her eyes, “You can tell me.”

She looked more tired from this angle. The way the shadows fell on her face made her look as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. The frown that pulled on her lips didn’t make it any better, only showing how truly devastated she looked.

His mind began to work on overdrive. Had he said something to her? Did he do something without realising? Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe someone said something nasty to her, and now she couldn’t get their words out of her head.

It was as though she could hear the thoughts that ran through his head. She shook her head at him and let out a small breath, “I just... I don’t feel-” she groaned, placing her hands on her face, “Whenever I look at myself all I can see is flaws, and sometimes I’m scared that one day it will be all you’ll start seeing, too.”

He couldn’t believe his own ears. He couldn’t believe she thought of herself that way, that she saw herself that way. His chest felt heavy as he moved to sit beside her and placed a comforting hand on the small of her back.

“Did someone say something to you?” he questioned; his voice gentle as he spoke.

“No.” she assured him, “No, no-one said anything, and don’t worry, you didn’t do anything either. It’s me – I just don’t like the way I look. Honestly, I don’t know what you see in me, John.”

He hummed, taking her words in and digesting them before he opened his mouth, “D’you want to know what I see?”

She swallowed thickly, “What?”

“Definitely not the flaws you’re seeing, love,” he attempted to lighten her mood. “I’m not even sure what ‘flaws’ you’re thinking of. All I can see is my beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Despite the awful thoughts still plaguing her mind, she couldn’t help but become bashful at his words. She could feel the heat on her cheeks, and hated herself for lifting the corners of her mouth into a small smile.

“There you are,” he said as though he hadn’t seen her in months. He quickly turned serious, a hand pressing against her cheek to turn her face in his direction, “You’ll always be beautiful to me,” he said her name with so much love, she could feel her heart swell, “Even when we’re both old, wrinkly and complaining about back pain. I love you, and that’s never going to change.”

“You already complain about your back pain,” she pointed out as her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him into a tight hug.

“See, we’re already half way there,” he laughed, “If you ever feel like this again, you tell me, alright?” she nodded into his shoulder, “I can’t have you feeling like this.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “For worrying you.”

“I’m your husband,” he chuckled, pulling away from her, “It’s my job to worry, yeah?”

She snorted at that, and he couldn’t help but grin at her reaction. With a small laugh of his own, he pressed his lips against hers and used his thumbs to wipe away the dry tears from her cheeks. The kiss started off sweet and gentle, their soft lips melting against one another in the slow dance. But it eventually turned more passionate – more lustful – as he pressed his lips harder against hers, hands beginning to wander down from her hips.

They pulled away to catch their breaths, their foreheads pressing together in a loving gesture. “Can I show you just how beautiful you are to me?” he asked.

She knew what he meant by this, and she didn’t even have to think about her answer. She nodded, a small ‘yeah’ leaving her lips as she pressed them against his once again. This kiss was short and sweet and he smiled when they moved apart.

Placing his hands on her hips, he guided her along the bed to rest her head on the fluffy pillows. He hovered above her, hand resting by her head as he leaned down to kiss her once again. His tongue entered her mouth, and the quiet mewl that left her when their tongues met had his body turning hot. They explored one another as if it was their first time doing so; hands ran up and down each other’s bodies and tongues swiped against one another in a loving embrace.

A string of saliva connected them when John eventually pulled away. His breathing was heavy and eyes closed as he attempted to calm himself down. He pressed his nose against the soft skin of her cheek and decided to press more kisses there, trailing from her cheek, to her jaw, down her neck and stopping just above her clavicle.

“John,” she whispered, legs moving to rest on either side of his hips.

He groaned at her needy tone, the sound of her voice only spurring him on as he kissed past her clavicle and over her shirt. His hands slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and rolled up the material to her ribs to expose her stomach. His lips attached to the newly uncovered skin, pressing soft kisses around her belly button.

As his lips moved downward, stopping at the waistband of her bottoms, he noticed something different. Instead of the usual shorts she wore to bed, her legs were covered with long pyjama bottoms that reached her ankles. He frowned, eyes gazing up at her curiously.

“Is it your legs, love?” he asked, brows furrowing in question.

She let out a sharp breath, her tongue wetting her lips as she nodded. He kissed the softness of her abdomen before pushing himself up to look into her eyes. “Can I take ‘em off?” he asked seriously, hand stroking the apple of her cheek.

She nodded, though he could see the hesitance in her eyes. One of his hands settled on the soft skin of her hip, gently rubbing the area with his thumb as he tilted his head to the side in thought. He let out a soft hum, eyes analysing her own.

“John,” her voice caught his attention, “I trust you. I just... it’s my thighs...”

“Are you sure?” he asked, wanting to be certain she definitely wanted this.

She smiled at him, and pressed a hot kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling, and almost whined when she pulled away, “I want you, John.”

He only smiled before moving his head back down towards her stomach and pressing open-mouthed kisses against her skin. He hooked his fingers at the waistband of her bottoms and began to pull them downward, her hips rising a little to help him get them off.

Despite him having seen her naked countless times before, and despite still having her underwear and shirt on, she felt more exposed than ever. Yet when she looked into his eyes, which were already staring back at her - scanning her face for discomfort – she felt herself relax; his eyes were so soft, and held so much love, she felt like her heart was going to burst at the sight.

He pressed his lips against her knee as he held her leg carefully in his hand. He squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, enjoying how it jiggled underneath his fingertips. Her breath hitched when he lifted her leg further up her body, the top of her thigh making contact with her torso.

The position reminded her of the many times he practically folded her in half to pound deeper into her. It reminded her of the nights when she finished multiple times in a row, and when her legs felt sore the day after. But this time was different; instead of his fingertips digging into the skin of her hip, they softly held onto her knee; instead of harsh kisses that stole her breath away, he lightly pressed his lips against the bumpy area of her thigh.

His eyes gazed upon the cellulite that decorated her skin, but unlike her, he didn’t see flaws. All he saw was the woman he fell in love with. The woman he was willing to take a bullet for. The bumpy area of her thigh was nothing but a decoration on her body. And he kissed it. He kissed every bump that adorned her skin, refusing to miss even a single one.

Her breathing was turning heavy as he travelled from underneath her knee and down to her buttocks. His fingers caressed the cellulite on her thigh before digging his fingers into her skin and moving her leg to expose the cotton of her underwear.

He moved his face toward her core, and placed a soft kiss against her clothed clit. A soft mewl left her lips at the action, and he smiled proudly at the sound. “You mind if I take ‘em off, love?”

She shook her head, and practically begged him to do just that. A breathless ‘please’ left her lips, and that’s all he needed. Quickly, yet still as carefully and softly as before, he pulled the material off her hips and almost salivated at the sight of her bottom half bare in front of him. He swore he would never get tired of seeing her like this; with eyes clenched shut and mouth ajar, small sighs leaving her open lips as she subconsciously rutted her hips towards him.

“John,” his name left her lips in a quiet plea.

He smirked, and on any other occasion he would have waited another moment; he would have her begging to place his lips around her. Yet this time he gave her what she wanted – what she needed – without a second thought.

His lips were wrapped on her already swollen clit before she got the chance to say his name again. A choked moan left her lips at the feeling, and her fingers went to grab onto his short hair. Her thighs clenched around his head when his tongue pressed against her hot skin, tasting her arousal as he licked her from the opening of her vagina, and up to her sensitive bud.

She let out a desperate whine as she lifted her hips, pressing her core harder against his face. She felt him smile against her, the hairs of his beard digging into the skin of her thighs. He wrapped an arm around her abdomen and pushed her down to keep her in place.

His lips were back to sucking on her clit in no time, and she felt as his index finger moved through her labia and gently pushed into her. The feeling was ecstatic, and she couldn’t help the loud moan that tumbled from her lips. “John,” she chanted his name as though it was the only name she knew.

He pumped the finger in and out, the sound of her wetness seeping out of her making his cock feel even harder than it already was. He added another finger and curled them in her tight canal. Her soft walls clenched around his digits, and when she attempted to arch her back, he knew she was close.

The pulls on his hair turned harsher, and her soft thighs squeezed his head when her walls began to spasm. He let her push her core against him, his mouth refusing to leave the swell of her clit as she shook underneath him. Her orgasm seeped out of her and drenched his fingers, which he continued to pump in and out until she stopped moving.

He pulled out his digits from her and placed them in his mouth, keeping eye contact with her when he licked them clean off her orgasm. The sound that left her lips was unholy, and it took everything in him to not grin like the Cheshire cat in return.

“You’re stunning,” he told her, and smiled when she moaned at his words.

He moved back towards her face and kissed her hungrily. She could taste herself on his tongue, and the it made her wrap her arms tightly around his neck. She pushed her torso into his, and when her naked crotch made contact with his still clothed dick, she felt how hard he was. She could only imagine how uncomfortable it was, so she let her hands travel from the hard muscles in his back and towards his abdomen, eager to wrap her fingers around his thickness.

Her hands barely had time to touch the soft material before he pulled them away and shook his head at her. “Not tonight,” he told her and stood up to remove the soft material himself.

His boxers ended up on the floor of their bedroom, and he didn’t stop until he was fully bare in front of her, his shirt joining the small pile on the floor. She shamelessly ogled his form from the bed, now sat up and hugging her naked legs against her chest.

He let out a small chuckle at the sight of her, “Enjoying the view?” he asked, getting on his knees in front of her.

She giggled, “Wish I could take a picture,” she answered with a soft smile.

He breathed out a laugh and grabbed onto the hem of her shirt, pulling it off her before letting it join his own clothes on the floor. “Show me,” he told her and she looked up at him with a confused expression, “What else, love? Show me.”

She bit into her bottom lip in thought before nodding and grabbing his wrist. Spreading her thighs so he could step between them, she moved his hand toward her hip. He got her to lay back down as he analysed her skin. It was only then that he saw the faint lines on her body, the stretch marks running from the top of her hip and down to her thigh.

Truth be told, he never paid them much mind. Sure, he’s seen that they were there, but he never would have guessed they caused her such heartache – such pain. He pressed gentle kisses on her hip, smiling against her before moving to hover above her once again.

“You know, all scars tell us is that we survived,” he pointed at his own torso, which was littered with scars of all sizes. Some were short and faint and others long and deep, but they all told the same story; he survived everything that was thrown his way.

She let out a sigh, “They’re not scars, John. They’re stretch marks. I haven’t survived anything.”

“Yeah, you have,” he argued, and she knit her brows in question, “You survive every day, don’t you? No matter what’s thrown at you, you’ve survived it all. Like that time you hit yourself on the table – remember the bruise you had for weeks?” He asked and she nodded, “Look, you might not have survived anything life-threatening, but you survived nonetheless. I mean, you survive with me and my, as you call them, ‘awful hats’ everyday, so that counts for something.” He laughed, “They’re nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart.”

She could feel the tears brimming her eyes at his words. She managed to nod, pulling him into another kiss as her legs wrapped around his torso. She was becoming desperate, his words only making her want him inside her more and more.

“John,” she breathed out, “I love you. I love you so much.”

He groaned when her hand suddenly grabbed onto the base of his cock and pumped him, moving up and down his length. She lined the tip with the wet entrance of her vagina, moaning at the feeling of his hot and sticky skin pressing against her.

“I love you, too,” he managed to say as he pushed inside of her.

The feeling of his cock stretching her out felt heavenly. She could feel every inch of him as he moved inside of her, pushing in until he bottomed out. His pelvis was pressed against her clit, and she clenched her walls around him at the feeling.

He grunted, tightening his hold on her left hip as his other hand moved to rest beside her head. “Fuck,” he cursed, forehead pressing against her shoulder. He tapped his hand against the side of her hip, and she arched against him, her hard nipples pressing deliciously against his hot skin.

Taking the chance, he moved a pillow underneath the small of her back, the slight lift allowing him to push even further into her. His tip pressed against the soft wall of her cervix, and she attempted to move her hips against his.

The desperation was clear on her face when he opened his eyes to look at her. His forehead pressed against hers and he finally moved his hips – slowly, sensually. His thrusts were slow and deep, as though he was trying to reach the deepest depths of her being.

She could feel the love radiating off him; the tenderness of his movements, gentle hold he had on her thigh as he pushed it further up his torso – attempting to reach as deeply as humanly possible – and the way he pressed small kisses against her temple. She could feel it all, and it brought hot tears to her eyes.

He held onto him as the tears began to roll down her cheeks, and her hips moved in sync with his. He whispered her name in her ear, followed by words of adoration, “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he spoke against her ear, his beard tickling her skin.

She clenched around him and her hips stuttered with every word – with every thrust. “So gorgeous,” he continued, lips pressing against the edge of her jaw after every word, “My fuckin’ gorgeous wife.”

Her abdomen felt hot, and the knot that slowly began to form in her stomach was threatening to snap. He could feel it; he could feel her getting closer. He slightly sped up his movements, his pelvis rubbing against her clit with every single thrust.

It was becoming too much. The words of love he chanted in her ear, the way her breasts rubbed against the scarred skin of his chest, and the way his cock pressed against the wall of her cervix with every single thrust. It was too much, and with a clench of her walls, she felt the knot finally break.

A loud moan got past his lips as the feeling of her walls hugging him tighter. His own hips began to stutter, and as she continued to spasm in his arms, her pushed into her with one final thrust.

She felt the warmth of his cum filling up her insides, the feeling only making her whine louder than before. His forehead went to press against hers once more as he fully emptied himself inside of her, his orgasm mixing with hers.

They stayed like that for a moment; he was still inside her, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and bodies remained flushed together. They were both panting, their chests heaving after the passionate and intense session.

When she eventually opened her eyes – her vision slightly blurred from her orgasm – he was already staring back at her. The corners of his lips were pulled into a smile, and his eyes held a softness she had seen many times before, yet would never get tired of.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he repeated the compliment he had previously chanted like a prayer.

She smiled, her arms loosening around his neck as she moved to cup his cheeks in her palms, “Hello, handsome,” she replied.

With a look full of love, he pressed a kiss against her cheek and pushed himself up to pull out of her. She whined at the feeling of sudden loss, her hands grabbing onto his forearms that were on either side of her head. She could feel his release slowly seeping out of her, and before it could trickle too far down – before their bed sheets were ruined – he picked her up from the bed.

She let out a squeal of surprise when she was lifted into his arms, and with an amused laugh, he took them both to the bathroom. “Bath?” he asked as he placed her on her feet, making sure she was steady and her legs weren’t wobbling.

She held onto his shoulder for a second, but nodded when she felt the feeling return to her legs. As he went to draw them both a bath, she reached for the towel cabinet and pulled out a small, clean rag. She wet it with warm water and just as she was about to wipe it on her thigh, it was taken from her.

John turned her around and pressed her back against the cold sink, making her hiss out at the feeling. He only chuckled when he grabbed one of her thighs and pulled it up towards him, only to then press the warm towel against her hot skin. He cleaned off the stickiness of her thighs, doing the same for himself before pressing the material flush against her crotch, collecting the arousal that had seeped out of her.

She couldn’t help but flinch and moan at the feeling, her mouth falling ajar as she grabbed onto her husband’s bicep. “Sorry, had to clean you up,” he told her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She almost rolled her eyes at him, but could only smile when he pulled her in for a kiss. The towel was discarded in the sink as his hands moved to rest on her waist. The skin-on-skin contact was nice, the intimacy of the moment causing a certain peacefulness to fall upon them.

“C’mon,” he eventually said and led her to the bathtub full of hot water.

The moment the water enveloped her, she could feel her muscles relaxing from the warmth that surrounded her. John stepped in behind her and pulled her into his chest, where she rested her head against his shoulder.

His hand moved to lay on the expanse of her stomach, lightly rubbing the area as she nuzzled into him. She finally felt happy, and content with herself. The insecurities that previously burdened her mind were forgotten, and the only thing she could focus on was John, and how he lovingly held onto her. She knew the thoughts would eventually return, and that they would try their very hardest to be the only thing occupying her mind. But she also knew John would be there to put a stop to them every single time.

“Thank you, John,” she whispered into the silence.

All he did in return was press his cheek against the top of her head and hum as he pulled her in even closer towards him. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to, because his actions spoke louder than words ever could.

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septembercfawkes · 5 months

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The True Purpose of Antagonists

Hear the word "antagonist," and it will likely conjure up images of "bad guys," like Darth Vader, the Joker, or Mother Gothel; and even a simple search online will reveal that "antagonist" is often defined as a person, group, or even specifically, a character.

None of these things are completely accurate, though. An antagonist is not always a "bad guy." In Death Note, the antagonist is actually the true hero. The antagonist also doesn't have to be a person or a group. In The Martian, the antagonist is the Martian landscape.

Truthfully, any well-written story will be loaded with antagonists. Sure, there may be what we think of as the "main" antagonist. But in order to be a good story, there will be lots and lots and lots of antagonists.

The problem is, so many of us have a narrow view of what an antagonist is.

Yeah, it can be a "bad guy," or another character, or a group.

But it can also be a storm, a computer, a rock, a substance, or even one's own sleepiness.

When we broaden our understanding of the antagonist and comprehend its true purpose, we can write better stories.

Because we can write better plots.

And if you've been with me for a while, you may know I consider "antagonist" to be the second element of plot, with "goal" being the first.

At the most basic level, there are just three types of goals (this will be a review for some of you, but it's better to have a review than leave newcomers in the dark).

Obtain something.

Avoid something.

Maintain something.

The last type often gets a bad rap, because when handled poorly, it can make the protagonist appear passive and the story feel plotless.

In reality, though, it's only a problem if it doesn't have an antagonist.

Just as the other two are problems if they don't have antagonists.

If I want to obtain a trophy, and all I have to do is show up somewhere (i.e. "a participation trophy"), the story doesn't have much of a plot.

If I want to avoid zombies, and nothing is making me go near zombies, the story doesn't have much of a plot.

And if I want to maintain my perfect lifestyle day after day after day, and I don't have thoughts of death, burned breakfast, and suddenly flat feet upsetting my paradise in Barbieland . . . the story doesn't have much of a plot either.

(*It should be quickly noted, though, that some goal types may overlap, depending on the story. For example, Barbie wants to avoid flat feet in order to maintain her lifestyle. So don't get too nitpicky with categorizations 😉.)

At the most basic level, the antagonist opposes the goal.

It is what is blocking, resisting, or pushing the protagonist away from the goal.

You want a trophy? Well, you have to beat the other football team (antagonist).

You want to avoid zombies? Well, your sadistic neighbor is planning to lower you into a pit of them (antagonist).

You want to maintain a perfect lifestyle? Well, let's give you some terrible cellulite (antagonist).

Essentially, the antagonist's role is to create (or be the) problems and obstacles in the protagonist's journey. It creates (or is) the resistance to the goal.

This means that something that is mildly annoying the protagonist probably isn't going to cut it.

Sure, you may argue that it is something the character wants to "avoid," but for the story to be great, the goal needs to be significant, which means the antagonist needs to be significant as well. (And by "significant," I mean it carries meaningful consequences.)

The antagonist may be a direct opponent. The sadistic neighbor wants to lower you into a pit of zombies. You don't want to be lowered into a pit of zombies. You and your neighbor's goals are contradictory.

Or it may be a step out from that. The protagonist and antagonist have the same goal, but they can't both succeed. Each football team wants the trophy, but there can only be one victorious team.

Or it may be more indirect. Gloria isn't trying to ruin Barbie's life. She just has her own goals, and her path--her journey--happens to be ruining Barbie's perfect life.

Sometimes the antagonist isn't intentionally targeting the protagonist.

Regardless, what remains the same is that the antagonist is opposing the protagonist's goal. And for it to be most effective, there isn't an easy, foreseeable way for them to each get what they want (because what one wants somehow opposes what the other one wants.)

This is necessary to create proper conflict within the plot.

Now, as I mentioned above, any solid story will have more than the "main" antagonist. And some stories don't seem to even have one "main" antagonist (such as Hamilton). But whatever the case, there should be regular antagonistic forces.

As I've talked about previously, most stories have big goals that can be broken up into little goals. These often make up scenes (or even acts) in a story. In order for it to be a strong scene (or act) though, it almost always still needs an antagonist. It needs a goal and antagonist to create conflict.

When we think of Star Wars, we often think of the Empire, or Darth Vader, as the antagonists, but if we look at the story by acts or scenes, we see that, while these may be the "main bad guys," they may not always be the current antagonistic force. And they certainly aren't the only antagonistic forces.

For example, initially, Luke's goal is to get off the farm and go to academy--but it's not the Empire that is preventing him from doing that. It's his uncle. In the beginning, Luke's uncle is his antagonist.

And when Luke is trying to get back to the Millennium Falcon, and he falls in a garbage compactor, the garbage compactor and the creature (the Dianoga) become his antagonists.

Likewise, almost none of us would point to Gloria as the main antagonistic force of Barbie, but she is certainly an antagonistic force within scenes (and arguably, for Act I, though we don't yet know her).

This is why it is so important to broaden our perception of antagonists while also refining our understanding of them.

If Luke just easily left the farm and encountered zero problems whatsoever, or Barbie just continued maintaining her perfect life, it would be boring.

Maybe not right away.

But it would hit all too soon.

We need an antagonist for almost every scene, even if it's temporary.

It's the protagonist encountering the antagonist that creates the rising action of conflict in the scene.

And the antagonist does not need to have ill intentions. The antagonist could be a friend or ally who has good intentions.

For example, say Character A needs to get information from Character B (goal), but Character B doesn't want to give it (antagonist), because it will deeply hurt Character A. Even if both characters want what (they think) is best, they still have opposing goals, so there is still conflict. At the end of the scene, either Character A succeeds, or Character B succeeds. They can't both get what they want.

Similarly, the protagonist and her ally may both want to go to London to defeat a villain, but within a scene, they may have opposing ideas of how to get there. The protagonist wants to take a plane, and the ally wants to take a boat. Within a scene, the ally may be the antagonist for the protagonist.

And worth mentioning is that the antagonist may not even be aware it is the antagonist. Character A may need information from Character B, but Character B may be so distracted with his toddler, that Character A is struggling to get it from him. Character B may be oblivious to Character A's distress. Character B is still the antagonist (well, and arguably so is the toddler, who may also be unaware).

Likewise, a flood will not be aware it is the antagonist. But if it's blocking or creating problems for the protagonist on the way to his goal, it's the antagonist.

Consider a character who needs to stay awake to keep watch over camp . . . but his sleepiness is getting to him. Guess what? His sleepiness is the antagonist. He is his own antagonist.

In short, antagonists can show up in a lot of different ways, and there should be lots and lots of them. Whenever an entity is blocking, opposing, or pushing the protagonist away from the goal, it is acting as an antagonist--even if it's not the big baddie.

Make sure your story is full with them.

#writing tips and tricks #writing tips #writing help #writing tip #writer #writing advice #writing reference #writeblr #writing #fanfic

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