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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

Text

I Want You So Bad I Can’t Breathe

You met Eddie when you first moved to Hawkins, Indiana it was an especially difficult time for you and Eddie was the one to stand by you, becoming fast friends. But then he was moving on to middle school and leaving you behind only to forget about you. You admire him from afar until Hellfire Club where you finally reconnect.

Request fill for @harringtonfan4 hope you like it, sorry if I went too hard on the negative self-image/insecurity stuff 😅

Minors DNI

Contains: Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Slight Perv!Eddie Virgin!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, Insecure!Eddie, Insecure!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Angst, Major Internalised Fatphobia/Fatphobia, Bullying, Daddy Kink, Spitting, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Praise Kink, Innocence/Virginity Kink, Unprotected Sex, Drug Use (Weed)

Fat. It was a word you’d heard more than half your life by now at eighteen. The first time someone called you fat you were seven, she was supposed to be your friend… your best friend, but her snide little, ‘Why are you so fat? It’s so gross!’ stuck with you.

Looking back now you know you weren’t fat… you know it every time you look back, but you can never see it in the moment. And you weren’t fat you were just an average sized little girl with chubby little cheeks.

No matter how far back it’s always been ‘oh I used to think I was so fat back then, what I would give to go back to that size. But now, now I really am fat’

Over the years this mindset had really impacted your life, you used to be more outgoing, you used to love to sing and dance, you used to live without constantly thinking about how everyone else saw you. Because no one wants to see the fat girl having fun, enjoying life right… better to hide away.

You had tried to lose weight, so many times… and you did, but every time you’d lose weight as soon as you’d hit a plateau your weight would sit there for a bit before slowly creeping back up and up and up. At least until you weighed even more than when you’d started.

It wasn’t just your friend that had made comments about your weight, she was the first but she certainly wasn’t the last. You’d also had a bully around the same time, she had consistently tormented you every day.

Day after day she’d drag you away from your friends, pulling you into a secluded corner to harass you verbally, physically, mentally… until one day you finally told someone.

Your mum went off on that other girl, threatened her so badly every time you saw her since then she’d cross the road to avoid you… but the damage had been done.

You didn’t have to deal with the aftermath for too long, shortly after your parents had decided to move to Hawkins, Indiana to be closer to your grandparents.

Your little brother was almost four now and they were going to need help taking care of the two of you, both of them working long hours and odd shifts just to get by. Also needed a bigger house to accommodate the needs of your growing family.

You were eight when you first met him, he was ten both of you still in elementary school. You were new in town, that in itself already made you an oddity to say the least.

Some kids had been picking on you, calling you names, pushing you around, you were on the verge of tears when he stepped in. He’d scared them off pretty easily, being both older and taller, buzzed head giving him a ‘tougher’ look.

Once they had left, he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder looking into your eyes like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “Hey, don’t pay attention to shitheads like that, ok? I’m Eddie.”

“Y/n…” You reply shakily.

“Y/n,” He repeats, “that is a very pretty name. Nice to meet you y/n.”

“N-nice to meet you t-too.”

“Wanna have lunch with me?”

“Yeah…”

You’d spent the rest of that school year by his side he’d introduced you to this game he played, Dungeons and Dragons. He’d jokingly criticised your taste in music, telling you he’d show you some real music.

You pout and protest that just because he doesn’t like your music doesn’t mean it’s not real music, but begrudgingly you listen to his stuff and find you actually like it… not that you’d admit it to him, you’d never give him the satisfaction.

If you were honest with yourself, you’d been smitten with him since that day, but you buried those thoughts and feelings deep down, tried to ignore it.

But then all too quickly he’s moving on to middle school, the two of you promise to stay in touch but you don’t. You don’t want to push it either, he’s probably moved on to something better… someone better.

In his absence you became closer with one Nancy Wheeler. Your brother and hers were in the same playgroup and your families had become closer as a whole. Both you and her were the same age, you’d bonded over the little things and she was a good friend to you.

It’s not until another two years later that you see him again, you’re starting middle school and he’s in his final year there. His hair is a bit longer now, no longer completely buzzed, still cropped short but growing out.

You admire him from afar, he wouldn’t remember you… why would he remember you? You couldn’t risk embarrassing yourself by approaching him now.

Your brother and his friends have discovered Dungeons and Dragons, the game has changed a bit since you first played but you sit in with them for a few sessions, Nancy also joins on occasion.

You DM until Will asks to take over one session, then they all take turns at being DM, each running their own campaign with your guidance. As Nancy starts to lose interest in the game, you feel you should stick with her rather than intrude on your brother’s group.

And time slips by the year is over, he’s moving on to high school, leaving you behind once more.

By the time you see him again you’re both in high school, his hair is longer still, becoming a bushy mane around his head, he’s really embracing the ‘metal’ look from what you can see and it suits him you think.

You hear he’s started a D&D group here at the school, Hellfire Club it was called. You were tempted to join, you had really missed him all these years, you doubt he would have even spared you a second thought… who would? Why would he care about that fat, little weird kid who followed him around for a year?

You ask Nancy what she thinks, “I kinda know the guy that runs it, we were friends for a little while. It was before you and I really started hanging out properly, but I don’t think he remembers me. What do you think, should I join? Would you join with me?”

“I think if you want to join you should, and it seems like you do… but I don’t know about joining myself, I kind of outgrew that phase. I’m thinking of signing up for the school paper though.”

“Oh, yeah that’s great you definitely should!”

“So, what about you? You going to join that club?”

“Ummm… yeah, maybe… I do want to, but I’m a little nervous.”

“I thought you said the guy that runs it is a friend, just talk to him.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t talked in years, I’m sure he doesn’t remember me.”

“It’ll be fine if you are worried about talking to him directly, I’m sure they’d have some sort of sign-up sheet, just go put your name down.” She shrugs.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok that doesn’t sound too bad.”

And they do have a sign-up sheet, it’s hung just outside the drama room, but you can’t see a pen anywhere. You rummage around in your bag for your pencil case, but then he appears beside you and you jump.

He holds a pen out towards you with one hand, the other on which he’d drawn a silly, little face comes up and he makes it ‘talk’ with a funny voice, “Need a pen?”

“Ahhh… yeah, thanks…?” You take the offered pen awkwardly.

His silly face hand drops, internally he’s facepalming, ‘why the fuck did you do that?’ he thinks pressing on despite this, “Eddie. My name is Eddie.”

You shift self-consciously avoiding looking him in the eye, “Yeah, I uhh… I remember you, Eddie. You probably don’t remember me-”

A broad grin spreads across his face, “Are you kidding, of course I remember you, princess. Sorry if I scared you earlier, by the way. So, you’re signing up for Hellfire, huh?”

You shrug, “Yeah, if you’ll have me, I guess.”

“It’ll be just like the good old days. You still been playing?”

“Umm… not so much lately, but you remember my little brother?”

He nods, you continue, “He and his friends are really into it now. When they first started I DM’ed for them, at least until they got the hang of it.”

“Awww, princess DM’ing… I woulda loved to see that.”

“I mean you still could… if I’m joining Hellfire…”

“Oh, no… no I am the Dungeon Master there, princess no one else. And I run a brutal campaign… you better prepare yourself. I’m not about to go easy on you, just cause it’s you.”

“We’ll see about that won’t we Munson, I can take brutal, you know.”

He just about chokes on his words at that, but manages to contain himself… barely, “Uhh huh sure you can, princess.”

The next couple of years after that the two of you reconnect, it was like you’d never been apart, but again he’s coming up on his final year, about to leave you behind yet again. And then… he doesn’t, he doesn’t graduate, he fails his senior year.

You’re torn on the one hand it means you get another year with him, another year before he disappears again. On the other hand, you hated seeing him fail, you knew how shitty high school was for him, constantly being mocked and teased. You hadn’t had it any better either, but having him there helped and now you’d have him for another year.

But now, now you’re eighteen, he’s twenty and he’s failed again. So, you get to share all your classes with him, you feel guilty about how happy you are to still have him with you.

Your little brother and his friends are just starting high school and Eddie takes them under his wing, inviting them to join you at your table. You would have done so yourself, but he’d beaten you to it and it reminded you of the day you met him, the way he stood up for you, the way he still stood up for you.

Your feelings have resurfaced… or maybe they’d always been there, just bubbling away in the hidden recesses of your mind. You hated yourself for it, it wasn’t for you to have a crush… nothing could possibly come of it, you’d seen the way he’d looked at other girls, prettier girls, skinnier girls… he’d never want you, why bother? And every day you dig yourself deeper into this hole, torturing yourself.

He’s driving you to school one day when you find yourself humming along to one of the songs on his radio and he is very quick to call you out on it. “Hey, I thought you didn’t like my, quote ‘shitty metal’?”

You give him a shove, “Fuck off, you know I don’t.”

“Oh, yeah then why are you fucking humming Metallica hmmm?” He grins smugly.

“I dunno, I guess it grows on you… like a wart… or a skin lesion… or you.”

“Hey, you take that back!”

You giggle, “Never.”

“Oh, really is that how it is?” He glances over at you briefly, taking one hand from the steering wheel he begins poking at you “Take. It. Back.”

You squirm away from his prodding fingers, but then instead of getting your arm or your shoulder he misses and makes contact with the swell of your belly and you freeze.

He knows he’s done something wrong, when he glances over again, the way your giggles die on your lips, the way you won’t look at him.

“What’s wrong princess?” He asks seriously.

“Nothing. Nothing, just drive.” Your voice sounds almost empty, but he doesn’t push any further.

Nancy knows, even if you won’t admit it at first, but she knows about your not so little crush. When you finally do admit it, she encourages you to do something about it, but you can’t… you couldn’t, could you? What if it ruined everything between the two of you… after all why would he ever look at you like that…

It does no good to dwell on these thoughts, but they come up, every time you’re in his van, every time he looks at you with that glint in his eye, every time you’re sat in his bedroom… on his bed, smoking and laughing and forgetting who you are for just a split second. It gives you hope, but then it all comes crashing down around you.

When he shows you how to roll your first joint, you can’t take your eyes off of him. You don’t hear a word he’s saying, it washes over you without comprehension. He sits facing you from the foot of your bed, you sit cross-legged facing him, leaning in slightly.

You watch his nimble fingers working away, the way his tongue darts out to wet the paper, his eyes never leaving yours, making sure you pay attention. It makes you feel hot all over, squirming as he’s twisting off the end giving you a little grin, proudly showing it off, “… and that is how it’s done.”

“Uhh cool, thanks.” You move to pluck it from his fingertips but he snatches it away.

“Ah, ah, ah don’t you know the rules… roller’s rights?”

You look at him in confusion, he explains, “The roller always takes the first hit.”

“Oh, ok.” You mumble and settle back down into the pillows. He lights up the end then takes a few puffs before passing it over to you, you take a deep drag and choke almost immediately. He laughs before smacking you on the back, before rubbing in soothing circles “Hey, take it easy… just breathe.”

He reaches across you to the water sitting on your bedside table, “Here take a sip, it’ll help.”

You take a few sips of water and steady your breathing before he continues, his hand still on your back, “When you take a hit it’s just a few little breaths in, slowly, lightly. Don’t try to take too much at once, it’s not the same as smoking a cigarette, ok?”

“Yep, uhh huh.” You croak out.

“And hold the smoke in your mouth first, then breathe in from here…” he rubs a hand over his belly, up high by his diaphragm.

“You wanna try again?”

You nod humming in response and he nods back for you to go ahead.

You follow his advice and it goes better, you try again and it’s even easier.

“Alright, now pass it back.” He holds out a hand and you hand it over to him.

“There, now give it a few minutes before you try again, it’s your first time don’t wanna go too hard, too fast.” He takes another puff.

You giggle, teasing, “But what if I want hard and fast?”

And then he’s choking, spluttering, coughing up smoke.

“Jesus H Christ… princess you can’t say shit like that, someone might take it the wrong way one day.” He gasps out.

You roll your eyes, “Eddie, come on no one is thinking of me like that, get real.”

He hesitates a moment, “What if… what if I told you I thought of you like that?”

“Haha, very funny…” you reply sarcastically, but he’s not laughing, “… wait a minute you’re serious?”

“Yeah, you got no fucking idea…”

“Are you sure that isn’t just the weed talking, I mean I heard it can make people-”

He cuts you off with a fierce kiss, pushing his lips to yours forcefully, nipping at your bottom lip gently, the joint burning down steadily in his limp grip. When he breaks away, he looks at you with lust clouded eyes, “Oh, I’m real fucking sure, princess. I have been crushing on you since God only knows when.”

You look up at him through your lashes, bashfully, “Ummm I’ve been crushing on you pretty much since the day we met.” You confess.

“Shit… can I fucking kiss you again?” He breathes out.

“Yeah… umm, maybe just get rid of that first.” You nod down to his fingers.

“Oh, right… yeah.” He mumbles reaching for his black metal lunchbox, snubbing out the joint on the lid and tossing it inside.

He looks back over at you, leaning in slowly, you don’t know why, but you’re blurting out, “imavirgin…” the words meld together in your embarrassment.

“What was that? Didn’t quite get that...”

You take a deep steadying breath, making sure to enunciate clearly this time, you repeat, “I’m a virgin.”

He lets out a guttural groan, “Fuck, princess is that true? No one… no one’s ever touched you before?”

“Umm no never… never been kissed before either…” You admit shyly.

“That’s quite a few firsts tonight, isn’t it? Do you wanna tackle a few more?”

You nod, pouting at him, “Please Eddie, kiss me again?”

“How could I refuse?”

He swoops in capturing your lips between his own once more, you feel his tongue probing for entrance you let out a needy whine and it’s slipping in alongside your own.

You tangle your hands into his hair you gasp as he lifts you into his lap, you pull away, “Wh-what’re you doing, don’t I’m heavy…”

“Oh no, you are just perfect, you sit right there, right on top of my cock.” He emphasises this with a roll of his hips and the hard bulge of his dick grinds into your heated core. You whine again at the sensation, feeling a wetness pool between your thighs.

He pulls you back in for another kiss, sloppier than the previous and you grind back against him with a moan.

“Did you mean it?” He gasps into your mouth.

“Huh?”

“When you said you want it ‘hard and fast’… or was that just a joke?”

“I dunno… it wasn’t entirely a joke…”

“You think you can handle it hard and fast, do you think you’ll still like me after, if I’m rough?” He growls.

“Please Eddie, I want you. I want you so bad I can’t breathe.” You gasp.

“Ok, but we’re gonna start off slow alright? Then we can ramp it up to hard and fast.” He chuckles darkly.

As he resumes kissing you his hands move to lift your shirt and you pull away suddenly.

“You ok, sweetheart? You change your mind?” Concern laces his voice.

“No… no it’s not that… just, could we maybe turn the lights off…?”

It’s like a switch flips in his head, “Oh no, no sweetheart I wanna see all of you… every gorgeous bit. The things I would do to you…”

He groans his hands dropping to your plump legs that straddle his own, squeezing them softly, urging you to move against him more firmly, “Wanna bury my face between these thighs… so fucking gorgeous… wanna do so much with ‘em, bite ‘em, suck em, kiss ‘em… push your legs together and fuck them.”

He drops one hand to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh, he growls, “Oh and if you let me take you from behind, I could watch your ass jiggle as I pound into you, maybe slap it a bit if you’d let me… would you like that princess? Want me to slap that fucking glorious ass of yours? You have no idea how many times I’ve been distracted by just that… thinking about bending you over and just taking you…” You’re panting desperately at his touch, barely done anything and he’s already got you absolutely wrecked.

He moves his hand up to your chest, groping your breasts he lets out a guttural moan as you whine pitifully, “And these tits, don’t even get me started on those… absolutely perfect… shove my face into them too, suck on your nipples, pinch ‘em ‘til you fucking scream… oh god, I’d love it if you held your tits together… let me fuck em ‘til I cum all over your pretty face, watch it drip down your chin…” his filthy mouth has you soaking your panties, grinding down into him.

You barely register that he’s popped the button on your jeans sliding them down slowly until he flips you over onto your back and you gasp, you never knew he was so strong, the way he was manhandling you like it was nothing.

He kneels between your legs, towering over you, you yelp as he grabs your jeans roughly pulling them the rest of the way down before you can protest.

You unconsciously tug the hem of your shirt lower to cover yourself and he swats your hands away, “Ah, ah sweetheart none of that I wanna see you… how about this, if I take off my shirt you let me take off yours?”

You bite you lip as you consider it, God do you wanna see him… bare chest, tattoos all on display… you nod nervously, mumbling “O-ok… b-but you first…?”

He concedes, “Ok, sweetheart me first.”

He hooks a hand into the collar of his shirt pulls it off and tosses it across the room blindly, your eyes rake over him, practically salivating at the sight, lingering on the sparse trail of hair peeking out over his belt. He’s smirking down at you as you pout up at him, “Pants too?”

“What about them?” He teases.

“Wan’ you to take yours off too… ‘s only fair…”

He grins devilishly, eyes glinting, “How about you take them off for me, princess?”

You sit up and place a shaky hand over his belt buckle, your fingers just grazing the hair of his happy trail. You undo the belt clumsily and unzip his jeans before rolling them down his thighs slowly. His baggy blue and white chequered boxers do little to hide his erection as it tents the fabric there.

Before you can do anything else he’s pushing you back into the pillows behind you, “Now, I seem to remember that the deal was… tit for tat, or rather tats for tits you may say…” he chuckles.

You giggle and resist the urge to fight him when his hands drop to toy with the hem of your shirt, he leans in easing your shirt up, trailing kisses over your belly, your chest, until he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses that aside too, diving back in to kiss you eagerly on the lips. He pulls away leaving you breathless, humming in appreciation, “Beautiful…”

“Eddie stoop…” You whine swatting at him.

“Never, I meant what I said and I’m gonna suck on those tits ‘til you’re begging me for more… there’s uhh… something I want you to do for me though…”

“What’s that?” You mumble curiously.

“Don’t call me Eddie. Do you think you could… call me ‘daddy’ while we…”

You gasp, “Fuck… yeah I can do that for you… daddy.”

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart.” He moans encouragingly before ducking his head to the crook of your neck biting, kissing, mouthing on it as his hands wrap around you. Calloused, ringed fingers brush against your back as he fiddles with the clasp of your bra, he gets it loose and slips it off down your arms.

He trails kisses down your chest until he reaches a nipple, sucking it into his mouth, laving over it with his tongue. His hands join his mouth, pushing your tits closer together, pinching and rolling the other nipple between his fingers. Your breath hitches at his ministrations and you let out a shaky moan.

“So, fucking responsive… love that I’m the only one who gets to do this to you…” He growls against your skin. He takes the hand closest to his mouth and caresses your mound, before dipping his fingers under the waistband. He runs his fingertips through your slick, teasing your entrance before dragging the up to circle your clit.

“All of this is just for me…” He murmurs, pulling away from you chest briefly.

“Yes, just you… no one else.” You gasp in response.

“God fucking damn, that’s right. I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this, isn’t that right?”

You mumble in assent, “Mhmmm that’s right… daddy, only you.”

“Fuck, princess gonna make me bust a nut and we haven’t even started yet.”

Your legs quiver on either side of him as he plunges two fingers into you crooking them against your soft, spongy walls. You can hear his rings clink together and feel them bump against your entrance, the sound met with a wet squelch as your cunt takes all he has to offer.

His thumb moves to press against your clit in clumsy circles, you grab onto his shoulders tightly, there’s a tension mounting, coiling deep in your belly.

“That’s it princess, you gonna cum for daddy? Cum on my fingers for me.”

Something in you snaps and the tension is released all at once, your walls flutter on his fingertips, your release gushing all over them as you moan breathily.

He grins at you proudly as you gasp for breath, “So, another first for you… what’s that now, first joint, first kiss, first orgasm from my fingers… what’s next my tongue or my cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ Eddie…” he gives you a disapproving look and you try again, “please… please, daddy.”

“Please what, sweetheart… use your words.”

“Please… fuck me…” You whine.

“How do you want it?” He asks firmly, “Tongue. Or cock?”

“Wan’ your cock, wan’ you to fuck me hard, show me I’m yours…” You whimper in response, weakly reaching for his boxers.

“You on any kind of birth control, sweetheart?” He asks in earnest.

“Mhhmm… yep I am.”

“Good… that’s good… now you’re sure about this, right?”

“Yes, never wanted anything more in my life… please…”

He ducks down and presses a kiss to your thigh before tugging your panties down your legs. He looks up at you with a little grin, panties hanging off his finger, “Mind if I keep these?”

“You can have whatever you want so long as you make me cum again daddy…”

He groans in response eyes squeezing shut briefly, and he palms at his cock. He drapes your panties over his lunchbox before sliding down his boxers to join his jeans. His thick, weepy length bobs up between his legs, precum bubbling up at the flushed tip. You gasp at the sight, “You’re so… big… can I touch it first?”

“Gonna gimme an ego sweetheart…” he mumbles as he reaches out for your hand guiding it onto his stiff length.

His precum slicks the motions of your hand, he controls the pace, running your hand along his length the way he likes. You devote all your attention to his cock while he watches you appreciatively.

When you swipe your thumb over the head on the upstroke, he growls lowly, “That’s enough now, princess. This time you’re gonna soak my cock with that tight little cunt of yours.” He looks into your eyes, his own dark with lust.

He pulls his jeans and boxers all the way off dropping them over the edge of the bed.

He pushes you back down into the pillows with a hand on your shoulder before moving to sweep your hair out of your face. He grabs your hand, slick and sticky from rubbing his flushed cock and holds it in front of your face, “Look you got your hand all messy. Lick it clean princess.” He orders.

He pushes your own hand to your mouth and you swipe your tongue over your palm before wrapping your lips around your fingers with a low moan. “Such a good girl for daddy.” He hums, you can taste him on your skin you whine as you imagine what it would be like to suck on his fat cock.

He smirks down at you while he grips his shaft at the base, rubbing the head through your glistening folds. Then another image springs to mind, one he’d painted for you, of him fucking your breasts, losing himself completely and cumming all over your face… how high would it splatter, would it get in your mouth, would it taste like this.

He pulls your hand away from your mouth leaning in for a kiss as he forces his tip inside your dribbling entrance. He swallows up all your little whines and gasps as he drops a hand between you to rub at your swollen clit. He sinks into you further and further until he’s buried deeper than you ever thought possible.

“Gonna give it to you hard and fast real soon princess, but we gotta get you a little warmed up for me first…”

He rolls his hips thrusting shallowly as you adjust to the sensation.

“Please… hmmm… fuck, faster please daddy. Feels so… mhnnn… feels so good” You pant out, hips rising to meet his.

“With pleasure sweetheart.” His hands move to grip your hips bruisingly tight. As he increases the pace, you feel his balls slapping against your ass, the room is filled with all sorts of obscene, wet sounds.

You twist your hand into his curls, gazing up at his rosy face, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes blown wide with lust. When you give a little tug on his hair, he lets out a deep, rumbling moan.

He hooks his arms beneath your legs pulling them up over his shoulders sinking into you deeper with this new angle, “You like being filled up, sweetheart? Feel so good when daddy’s deep in you? You gonna let me cum buried inside you?”

“Please… god yes, want it so bad daddy, want you to fill me up with your cum.”

He brings a hand up to your chin, thumb sliding over it ‘til it rests on your bottom lip as you whimper beneath him, he eases his thumb between your lips and you suck on it mindlessly.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you right?”

You nod, mumbling around his thumb in agreement.

“Then open.” He forces your jaw down with his thumb, you look up at him a little confused.

Suddenly he spits in your mouth, ramming his cock into you at the same time, you whimper.

“Now swallow.” He demands and you do so, your saliva mixing with his as it slides down your throat and your walls flex around him of their own accord.

“Oh, you liked that did you?”

“Y-yes daddy.”

“Oh, you’re such a good girl for me. You do like it hard, don’t you? Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”

“Please… fuck, please gonna cum again.”

“Then cum for me. Squeeze on my dick, lemme feel it. Cum for daddy.”

You wail, chanting “Daddy, daddy, daddy… fuck ‘m cumming.” Your back arches, head thrown back gasping as you clamp down around him, your release running over his cock in rivulets and he continues to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

You fall back limply still spasming around him when he reaches his peak, he growls, “Yeah that’s it princess, you’re gonna take all my fucking cum… take everything daddy gives you.”

He empties his heavy balls deep inside you with a deep, strung-out groan, you can feel his warm seed flood your cunt, drenching your already slick channel.

He collapses on top of you, sweaty bodies pressed together and he tries to nuzzle in even closer.

“God, that was good sweetheart.” He pants in your ear.

“Yeah.” You mumble in agreement running a hand over his back tracing random patterns.

He sighs and you feel his breath against your cheek while his cock softens slowly slipping out of you. You can feel your combined fluids leaking out of your entrance slipping down between your ass to pool on your bed.

Eddie rolls off of you wandering off naked, when he returns, he’s cleaned himself off, approaching you carrying a warm, damp cloth, he runs it over your body soothingly, between your legs cleaning you off.

He stoops down untangling his boxers from his jeans slipping them on as he moves to your wardrobe rifling around til he finds some pyjamas. He helps you into them gently and wraps the covers around you and turns out the lights before slotting himself in behind you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and wraps his arms around you with a sigh.

You melt into his embrace and he wishes you sweet dreams, you return the sentiment. The pair of you doze off smiling contentedly in your post-orgasm bliss.

Eddie wakes in very early hours of the morning, still happy and content, girl of his dreams wrapped up in his arms. His thoughts turn sour as he lays there, the demons in his head tormenting him…

Jesus Christ what have you done, that was her first time you fucking pig… you told her to call you ‘daddy’ what is wrong with you… fucking freak… shit that’s what everyone’s gonna think the freak and the fatty, both of you together that’ll send them all into a frenzy and her oh, she’ll never hear the end of it, do you really think she deserves that… do you think you deserve to be happy…

And he’s slipping out from under the covers shrouded in his shame, careful not to rouse you he dresses and collects his belongings. He pauses briefly before pocketing your panties, one last little souvenir. Sick pervert. He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts before taking off into the early dawn.

You wake up a few hours later, sore, mumbling his name, hands searching for his warmth only to come up with nothing. Eyes snapping open you look around in confusion, you find that all of his belongings are gone all evidence that he was even here gone.

He’d be back, for sure he’d be back. Why would he leave…? But he doesn’t come back, doesn’t answer any of your calls. This continues for the rest of the weekend, you convince yourself it’ll be different when you get to school.

Monday rolls around, your stomach twists into knots, did he regret it, wake up next to you with a sudden clarity, no longer horny or high and realise he didn’t actually want someone who looked like you. Or maybe he was just worried what other people would think if he dated someone like you… good enough to fuck, but not good enough to keep around.

You can’t believe that you’d let yourself believe that it could be something more for even a second. Tears sting your eyes and you swipe them away angrily, you huff sulking off into the bathroom, don’t be so fucking dumb, of course he wouldn’t want you just deal with it. You splash cold water over your face and take a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

You end up late for homeroom, only just entering the room as the teacher calls your name. Eddie isn’t sitting in his usual seat, instead he’s sat beside Gareth chatting away about something to do with the band and their show tomorrow night.

He doesn’t look at you as you pass him, you slink off to the last available seats, it’s fine, it’s fine… more tears threaten to slip out but you bite them back.

He avoids you for the rest of the day, you don’t even see him at lunch, but then you pass him on your way out of the cafeteria, you call out to him, “Hey, Eddie there you are I’ve been looking for you all day.”

But he walks right passed you, blank-faced, staring straight passed you. It’s like a knife to your heart, your frozen can’t move, can’t speak, the tears you’ve been fighting all day spill out. Someone bumps into your shoulder and of course it has to be them, “Watch it fatass.”

And there’s giggles as they walk on you can hear them saying to one another, “She was fucking crying did you see her, what a fucking loser… not even the freak wants to be seen with her now.”

That’s the final straw, you don’t even bother collecting your stuff from your locker you just… leave. You walk all the way home blindly, the tears stoped at some point leaving your eyes puffy and stinging, your nails dig into your palms leaving little half-moon impressions.

You let yourself in trudging to your room, stripping off your clothes and pulling on anything that’s nearby before crawling into bed burying yourself beneath the covers.

Your mum wakes you when she gets home, you brush her off telling her you’re not feeling well, trying to pass it off as really bad period cramps. You tell her you might not go in to school tomorrow, she offers to bring you something to eat and a hot water bottle you nod mutely, you don’t really feel like talking much.

You spend the next few days like that in a haze, numb to the world but acutely aware of the stabbing pain in your chest and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. By the fourth day Nancy stops by to check on you, it’s not like you to miss so many days of school, let alone walk out in the middle of the day.

She enters your room tentatively calling out to you, she sits on the edge of your bed as you groan from your cocoon of blankets.

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

You give a little grunt, she brushes your greasy hair behind your ear gently, “Want a hug?” She offers.

“No, ‘m all gross.” You mumble pulling your self to sit up at the very least, but then the tears flow anew, that’s exactly why he doesn’t want you… fat, ugly, gross, loser… every insult ever hurled at you streams through your brain.

Nancy wraps her arms around you despite your attempts to push her away.

“You know I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. Your mum said you haven’t been eating properly, won’t come out of your room, i haven’t seen you like this since… well in a really long time.”

You breathe in shakily trying to stem the flow of tears, “I’m a fucking idiot that’s what’s wrong.”

“Hey, hey that’s not true, tell me what actually happened.”

You shake your head pushing away from her, “Can’t.”

“Tough ‘cause I’m not leaving ‘til you do.” She folds her arms over her chest giving you a determined look.

“Well, be prepared to stay a while then.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” She chides.

“You don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Fine, Ugh fine…”

“Go on I’m listening.”

“He doesn’t want me, doesn’t want anything to do with me now.” You can’t bring yourself to look at her while you speak.

“Who’re you talking about?”

“Eddie.”

“That’s not possible, that guy looks at you like you hung the moon. What happened? Did you tell him how you feel or…”

“No… well yes, but… ok, so he came over Friday night. You know how my parents went away?” She nods as you continue, “So, I asked him what it was like to smoke weed, like we always smoke together when we’re at his place, but never that and he was showing me how to roll a joint and god he looked so hot and I made some dumb joke about wanting it ‘hard and fast’ and he kissed me and told me he had a crush on me and I told him as well… and one thing kinda led to another and we ended up having sex and…” you trail off uncertain of how much detail is too much detail.

“None of that sounds bad so far, where did you get the idea that he doesn’t want you if he’s already slept with you.”

“When I woke up in the morning… after… he was gone, he didn’t answer any of my calls the whole weekend but I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt… I dunno, whatever. Anyway then at school on Monday he acted like I didn’t even exist, walked right passed me and they had to see it, had to comment on it.”

You hazard a glance at her and you can practically see the steam billowing out from her ears, “I’m sorry he what?!”

“I just I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, the year’s almost over and just like before he’ll be disappearing from my life again… this time just a little sooner than planned.”

“I’m gonna talk to him.” She says firmly.

“What? No! Nance don’t… please don’t… promise me you won’t.”

“I…” she falters at the look in your eye, “Alright, fine I won’t.”

You shoot her a stern look, “Really, I promise I won’t.” She insist.

“I mean it don’t.” You finish firmly.

“Ok… have you eaten today? What did you have?”

“I did, I had tea and crackers.”

“Is that it? All day that’s all you had?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s not like I’m doing anything today other than wallowing in bed and it’s not as if I’ll starve to death.”

“You know starving yourself is just as bad as overeating, neither of which is going to help you right now. Come on get out of bed go have a shower, I’ll make you something to eat and we can watch a movie… we haven’t had a girl’s night in a while you know.”

You give in to her pestering and it does help to take your mind off things for a bit. She makes you promise that she’ll see you up and about next week.

Nancy doesn’t break her promise at first, not exactly but she does go straight to Steve right after your little ‘girl’s night’.

“You want me to what?”

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, relax it’s not that big a deal just talk to the guy.”

“Why me? If it’s not such a big deal you talk to him.”

“I told you I promised y/n I wouldn’t so I’m not.”

“Still don’t get why it has to be me.” He grumbles.

“What are you scared of him or something?” She teases.

“No! It’s just weird you want me to talk to him about his sex life, c’mon that’s weird.”

“Hey, y/n is your friend too and she’s really hurting right now, just talk to the guy.”

“Why couldn’t it be one of those Hellfire guys instead?”

“Well, I don’t really know them, I know you… but I guess we could talk to them too. Maybe they could help, we can ask Mike where to find them.”

That’s how they find themselves grouped together with a couple of the guys from Hellfire Club, on Eddie Munson’s front porch. Nancy knocks on the front door and Eddie tumbles out to greet them “Wheeler? Harrington? The fuck are you two doing here?”

He spots Gareth and Jeff just behind them, “Emerson… what the fuck is going on?”

Nancy pokes him in the chest angrily, “Inside. Now, Munson.”

He holds up his hands in surrender stumbling backwards inside the trailer.

When everyone is inside, he tries again, “Right, so is anyone gonna fill me in here? What the fuck is going on?”

The boys let her go off on her tirade, her promise to you forgotten amidst her anger, “Don’t play dumb Munson, we’re here about what happened with y/n.”

“Shit… yeah I know I took things too far but tell her it’s ok, I’ll stay away from now on.”

“That is exactly the problem, why are you staying away?”

“Just imagine what people would say about us, the freak and the fatty…”

Gareth speaks up taken aback, “What the fuck man since when do you call her that?”

Eddie sighs “I don’t, it’s just what people would say and she doesn’t deserve that, she doesn’t need people judging her and they would if we were together. Why would anyone want to be seen with the freak nah she doesn’t need that.”

“Since when has that stopped her before, she’s with you all the time?” Jeff counters.

“Yeah, but that’s different it’ll be so much worse for her if we’re dating, this is for her own good, she’d be better off without me all together.” He protests with a tone of finality.

“Shouldn’t you let her decide that for herself? You don’t think you’re hurting her right now… acting like this. Imagine what she’s feeling, what she’s thinking. She’s alone in her room, hasn’t left for days, hasn’t been eating, torturing herself over why you’d do this.” Nancy attempts to reason with him.

Reality comes crashing down around him as he realises what he’s done, “Oh fuck I’m… shit I’m a fucking asshole. I let my own fucking insecurities get to me I didn’t stop to think how she’d feel, how she’d see it… fuck, fuck, fuck.” He paces back and forth tugging on his curls anxiously. His head snaps up, locking on to Nancy, “What do I do… what can I do?”

Steve speaks up for the first time, side-eyeing Nancy as he does so, “You fucking apologise man, take her flowers, beg for her forgiveness… whatever it takes.”

“Right… right.” He mutters to himself before his head pops up again, “You guys uh wanna like leave, or…?”

“Yeah, we’ll go.” Steve replies leading the way out of the trailer.

Nancy lets the other two go first before turning back to Eddie, “You fix this Munson… and I was never here, ok?”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uhh… yeah ok.”

He stands beneath your bedroom window tossing rocks at it til one connects. You peek your head out at the noise and see him standing there, arms laden with flowers and candy. You don’t quite trust yourself to speak first so you stare down at him expectantly.

He finally breaks the silence, “Can I come in? We gotta talk.”

Your despair solidifies into bitter anger, “Oh, now you wanna talk… fuck off.”

“Please… please just hear me out.” He calls back desperately.

“Why the fuck should I? I gave you so many chances, why now?”

“I’m a fucking idiot, I know that and I’m sorry I’m so so sorry. Please just let me in, let me explain and then I’ll go if you want, I promise.”

“Alright, fine. You better make it quick though… you know the way in. Come up.” You slip back into your room slamming the window shut.

He takes the stairs in leaps and bounds when he gets inside, hesitating outside your bedroom before steeling himself and opening the door.

The second he steps inside it’s like all moisture is wicked away from his mouth he stands there for a moment in silence. You prompt him to begin, “Well? You gonna actually speak or-”

He blurts out, “I love you…”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, sure you fucking do… not falling for that one again.”

He persists, “I’m really, really, really sorry, you have no idea. I uh got these for you.” He thrusts out the flowers and a box of candy in your direction.

You eye them sceptically, snarling, “And what some flowers and chocolates are gonna make me just fall right into bed with you again… ‘daddy’?”

“I never should have… I took things way too far for your first time I am so fucking sorry. I really do love you though.” He says in earnest.

Your voice cracks, “Why did you leave? Why do you always fucking leave me?”

“Because I was a dumb fucking piece of shit too wrapped up in my own insecurities… thinking I don’t deserve you, don’t deserve happiness… worried about what people would think of you if you were dating me, the things they’d say…thought you’d be better off without me.”

“It’s not on you to make decisions like that for me, you ass. The things people would say about me because I’m dating you… fuck that’d just fly right over my head ‘cause I’d be with you. And that shit about you not deserving happiness is just that, absolute shit… of course you deserve happiness. And by doing this you deprived both of us of a chance at happiness.”

“Is… is it too late… can I… can we try again?” He stutters out hopefully.

Your resolve slips, “You really hurt me Munson…”

His face falls, “I know, I’m so sorry… and I will spend the rest of my fucking life making it up to you if… if you’d let me?”

“It… it wasn’t too far you know, umm I actually really liked it… all of it.”

His eyes search your own desperately, “Does that mean…?”

“Yes Eddie, it means we can try again.”

His face lights up and he drops the flowers and the candy onto your bed, he moves towards you but stops suddenly, “Can… can I kiss you?”

You give a small nod and he dives in kissing you slowly, deeply, with purpose. He pulls away and asks breathily, “Can I stay the night?”

“Don’t push your luck.” You warn.

He gasps, “No! Not… not like that… I mean not that I wouldn’t want that, but… I mean, just let me sleep here, that’s it just sleep, cuddle a bit. Then in the morning I’ll show you how it should have gone the first time, like this past week never happened.”

“O-ok, yeah we can do that.”

“Thank you.” He hums pulling you against him, nuzzling into your neck.

And true to his word that is all you do that night, falling asleep wrapped up in one another, peacefully. He wakes you in the morning with a sweet kiss, he says he’d offer to make you breakfast but the best he could do is cereal so he takes you out to the diner instead.

When you tell Nancy what happened she doesn’t seem too surprised, “Good I’m glad the two of you worked that out, I’m happy for you really… but if he ever does anything like that again you tell me straight away. I’ll sort him right out.”

You shoot her a suspicious look, “Nance, did you talk to him?”

“What? No! No, I promised I wouldn’t… it was Steve and a couple of your Hellfire friends I swear.”

“Uh huh and how did they know about it?” You probe.

She folds easily, “Alright fine I talked to him, I’m sorry but-”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I’m glad you did, thank you.”

“No problem… so, now can we talk about it… what’s he like in the bedroom?”

You gasp mock scandalised, “Nancy Wheeler, how dare you…” you can’t maintain it for long and burst into giggles, “He is gooood I’ll say that much, very generous in every sense of the word.”

She raises a brow, “You mean…” and indicates size with her hands.

You nod “Oh, boy do I, and he knows what to do with it.”

She chuckles at your response, you ask about her, “How’re you and Jonathan?”

“Good, we’re good…”

The two of you chat long into the night, you’re glad of a friend like her, glad she stepped in when she did else who knows how things could’ve gone.

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mightbesmall · 9 months

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Look At Me Beautiful

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Character: Vil.

Warnings: Body dysphoria and body dysmorphia, eating disorders, mentions of scars, reader is in the feels, reader has self-esteem issues.

Summary: Vil is here for you to lean on, for you to rely on. He wants to help you like you did him.

Additional Notes: I was looking forward to eating some jacket potatoes but I then felt sad, and when I was going to eat the jackets, I felt disgusted and too sad to eat them. My meal was ruined so I say we hurt today. This is also yet another of my projections and how I experience stuff like this. And remember to be kind guys, any and all negative comments will be deleted and blocked.

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You don't like what you see. It's meant to be you but all you can see is an ugly monster. You hate how you look, you hate how you sound, you hate how your skin feels, you hate how your scars feel. You hate it so much.

You can't eat three meals a day without feeling repulsed by yourself, you can down two if your lucky, yet no matter how little you eat you just can't stop feeling so slimy and gross and chubby-

"Dear are you in there?" That was Vils voice. You don't want to answer him, feeling as if you'd taint his beauty by your hideousness. You don't deserve someone so perfect like him, someone so caring like him, someone so-

"Are you alright?" Vils voice was soft, as was his hand that was resting on your shoulder. You could barely look at him.

”Please look at me beautiful..” He said so tenderly, so full of love and adoration. It made your heart ache as you hesitantly raised your head. When your eyes met you saw how he softened, how he slowly reached out to cup your your face in his hands, how gentle he was being with you. You didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve him.

He stared into your eyes as he gently wiped away the tears you didn’t know fell from your face with his thumbs. He smiled so softly at you, for you.

”Do you want to talk about it or would you like to stay here for a while?” He softly asked, still staring with so much adoration, so much love, so much care. He still loved you even though you didn’t deserve his presence, even though you sounded horrible, even though you were a hideous creature, he still loved you. That realisation broke the dam as you cried into his chest, him gently raking a hand through your hair and a hand rubbing your back soothingly.

”It’s okay, I’m here.”

You two stayed like that for a while, embracing each other as you cried your heart out on the bathroom floor. Vil didn’t care that you wet his shirt, but he did he care about you. When you two finally parted, you tried to apologise but Vil held a hand up before smiling at you.

You didn’t deserve him but you felt oh so loved by him that you were slowly but surely staring to feel that maybe you did.

#twisted wonderland #reader insert #vil schoenheit #angst #hurt/comfort #just a lot of sadness #I am not good at writing angst or hurt/comfort…#cw: body dysphoria #cw: eating disorders #cw: mentions of scars #tw: body insecurity #tw: body dysmorphia #forgot to add in the warning tags I apologise for that #brrr’s writing

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gooberscollage · 1 year

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I wanted to archive this eBay listing I found, of two teenagers named Shannon and Betty using this notebook to pass notes circa 1986-1987

Image Credit to designsbytiti on eBay

#1980s #80s #eighties #notebook #journal #diary #vintage #friends #retro #notes #eBay #cw cursing #cw body talk #cw body dysphoria #tw body insecurity #tw body dysphoria

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wri0thesley · 2 years

Note

stars in my eyes… zhongli

I know it doesn’t appeal to everyone (reader being insecure), but I particularly love the thought of zhongli being mystified that you shy away from being pampered or try to turn it aside, embarrassed at the thought; rex lapis doesn’t collect things without value. you are one of his treasures, surely you should be treated as such…? If you’re not aware, he has no choice but to make it as clear as possible!

what I mean is: dragon man insisting on overwhelming his cute chubby partner with delights— food, lovely clothes, everything he believes they deserve and more. because they are his, and he knows how to handle treasures.

oh, i think you're absolutely right. and honestly . . . the geo archon, solid and strong and sure like stone itself? why wouldn't he find something so soft and so warm and so alive the most beautiful of all treasures? why wouldn't he delight in running his hands all over your skin and brushing your hips and squeezing the plush of your thighs and feeling that soft flesh give under his grip, yielding to him?

he's not mean about it; merely raises one eyebrow and says in a perfectly clear, cool tone in a voice low and soft; "don't you think i know what beauty is, after all of this time?". yes. he's definitely the kind who spoils and overwhelms; and though he does never seem to have mora on him, he somehow always finds a way to make sure that you're swimming in all kinds of opulence. whether that be fine silks or pretty treasures for your hair or food, pressed into your mouth in bite sized pieces (that last one, he is especially fond of. there's something intimate about it, yes - but he knows, somehow, that this is what your insecurity is based on, and so when he does it he also lavishes praise on you in that soft, calm voice).

his dragon brain does insist on collecting treasures - and though part of it also insists on hoarding them away, making sure they belong solely to him - a bigger part wants to show you off and make sure you know exactly what your worth it.

#nat.txt #chubby reader posting #genshin impact posting #i think. cute. i think this is cute #food mention for ts #insecure reader ///#body image cw///

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mangora · 7 months

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CW for disordered eating behavior but I was reading the ROTI character bios and I got to Jo’s section and I was going to post about it because her favorite movie is Charlie’s Angels which is so wlw of her but then I got to the line “who need’s food, food is for wimps” and I’m just. Who hurt you

#cw eating disorder behavior #cw ED behavior #alex’s td rambles #I know it was probably a one off thing not meant to imply anything but #considering her body issues line and shit. idk Jo has so many thinly veiled insecurities that I wish were explored #sorry if the way I’m talking abt this is weird btw I straight up don’t know how to approach that

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amybluekinnie · 2 years

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yea obvs drugs are addictive but so is seeing the numbers on the scale go down and feeling your clothes get more and more loose

#ana #model thin #waif #th!nsp00 #waifspo #2014 tumblr #female manipulator #only pro for myself #thinspo #tw ana #femcel #girl blogger #girlblogging #cw drugs #cw weight #cw weightloss #tw body insecurity

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dani-sdiary · 2 months

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Sexy

As a feminist and an ally I strongly believe that gender is not based on hormones or conforming to beauty standards. But as a person with PCOS, BDD, depression, and anxiety, I'm at war with my body, and losing. I am only speaking to my own experience, and I would never speak to or think of another woman in any way remotely similar to the way I do myself.

I don't know how a single person can be the exact opposite of every single beauty standard, but I am. I am huge: tall and obese with very masculine features- big hands and feet, a thick neck, arms, and legs, broad shoulders, and a robust frame and wide ribcage. I'm unproportional with a long torso and very short legs. I do not have a womanly shape; I have a protruding stomach and rolls yet a flat chest and bottom and narrow hips the exact same size as my thick waist. My breasts are low and point outwards to opposite sides and I have very large and dark areolas. My vulva is lopsided and dark and my inner labia stick out past my outer. I am covered in thick, dark hair on my light skin everywhere except my scalp, where it's thin, short, and greasy. I have textured, callused, oily, and heavily scarred skin and severe pimples, blackheads, moles, and stretch marks. My face is unsymmetrical. I have a a soft jawline and double chin, a wide nose, thin, pale lips, small eyes, short eyelashes, and uneven eyebrows.

I just don't how to not to whine and throw a pathetic self-pity party. I feel robbed. Of my joy, my youth, my body. I don't know how to move on when my body doesn't listen to me.

I want to feel sexy. I want to be desired. I want to be young. I want to be in the prime of my life, where I learn so much and make countless mistakes and have all these experiences. I want to be like any normal girl my age. I want to look on the outside like the woman I know I am on the inside. I want to be perceived as the person I really am. I want someone to think of me as a partner, as a woman, as irresistible. I want to be touched. I want to be held. I want to be wanted. I don't know where to put all of these excessive feelings stored up inside me.

I am seen as something completely apart from women. I'm something else, not viewed as feminine. I am the other. A freak. A monster. Broken.

Who am I? The hateful stereotype of a feminist who doesn't shave her legs, the circus freak- making a living off of my "deformity," the ever-supportive best friend, the crazy drug addict, the Latina with a mustache, the awkward middle-schooler who eventually became beautiful, the wicked witch, the evil queen, the villain. When I see those archetypes I see myself, and I just don't know what to do with that.

I'm a joke. My body is comedy, and often stereotypes about various ethnicities. My body is when friends poke fun at each other for being single so long that their hair has grown out. My body is the slapstick hilarious and painful waxing scene. I am the first part of the makeover montage, depicting an apparently clueless girl who, before today, has never heard of plucking her eyebrows.

There just doesn't seem to be room for me here. I don't think bodies like mine are going to be seen as desirable in my lifetime. I don't think that I will ever be an attractive person. And I don't feel I'm strong enough to accept my body until someone else does.

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goldtearsapollo · 1 year

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Body dysmorphia has ruined my life. It’s weird to even call it dysmorphia, cuz I’m just ugly… and way more obsessive about it compared to other ugly people. I don’t understand how they can be happy or ok. It’s the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. Im aware of it all day, just as I’d be aware of thirst. It controls me completely. I’m a shut in. I don’t even want my own family to see me. I‘m in my own personal hell and am wounded in the same way everyday. And no matter how much I vent, journal, or cry, when I’m done, nothing has changed… I’m still sitting at the bottom of the same pit exasperated. Living is an exhausting nightmare.

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seakicker · 1 year

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Did you ever hesitate and feel scared to show your naked body to your boyfriend for the first time? I’m chubby and I’m still not at the stage where I feel comfortable showing anyone 🥲

so i was mulling over this ask for a bit cuz i have so much to say about this topic and my thoughts on it are still pretty complicated even as someone who has navigated exposing myself to someone else for the first time. remember that it's totally okay to still be a virgin regardless of your age; there's no rush and there should never be any shame associated with being a virgin in your 20s or beyond; it makes me sad when people are like "i can't believe i'm still a virgin at 25" as if there's some kind of deadline on being intimate with someone else or that you somehow stop being desirable as you age-- neither of these things are true!

to answer your question, yes. i did feel really hesitant the first time i undressed in front of him and, to be honest with you, i still feel that way sometimes even though he's seen me naked more times than i can count since that initial first time about two months ago. i'm not going to pessimistically say that the feeling never goes away or anything like that because it certainly isn't as intense now as it was back then-- the feeling really only resurfaces when i'm already having a bad day or when i've been in a particularly insecure spell-- but it is something i continue to think about as our relationship progresses and as i learn to become more vulnerable with him emotionally and sexually.

he and i have already talked about this a little but one of the consistent struggles i have is that i sometimes treat sex more as an opportunity to look good rather than feel good so i prioritize 'performing' more than i prioritize just having a good time, relaxing, and being in touch with myself and my body and i think a lot of these feelings are really heightened by being a plus-size person (more specifically a plus-size woman because i think the specific intersectionality of being femme and being plus-sized is insanely important when discussing sex and self-image) because i have thoughts like "how does my stomach look from this angle?" "i don't like being viewed from behind because i'm embarrassed of how my rolls look" and things like that. i worry about looking less than my "sexiest" and i'm still unlearning the idea that "sexy = thin" or that i need to make myself look as small as possible to be sexy because that's not true whatsoever. i don't need to suck in my stomach or twist my waist to hide my rolls or anything, and neither does anyone else-- you don't have to shrink yourself out of fear you're taking up too much space bc you're wonderful as is.

there's a lot of little ways you find comfort when it comes to being nude in front of someone else. for instance, i have a lot of insecurity about being viewed from behind bc i've always been really insecure about my back rolls and my ass (more like the lack thereof) and so sometimes positions like doggy style (despite being my #2 fave position) can cause me some anxiety bc i worry about how i look from angles i know i don't like seeing myself in. despite that, my boyfriend will praise me and compliment me not because he's just trying to make me feel better or because he feels obligated to say those sorts of things, he says it because he genuinely feels that way and because, simply put, other people don't view you the way you view yourself. other people love you for you in ways that you don't love you for you and so i think little moments like that are insanely special. hearing those compliments when i'm worrying and worrying and worrying about how i look are extremely comforting and grounding; they bring me back to reality when i'm so caught up in my own head and they're just. very healing.

i have about a thosand and a half tips when it comes to the question of "how do i learn to love myself/my body more?" and i don't want anyone to think that the only solution is finding someone else who'll compliment you when you can't compliment yourself bc that's just not true. it is possible to learn to love yourself while you're single and, in fact, 95% of my own self-love journey has been accomplished solo rather than within the boundaries of a relationship. of course, the relationship helps with external reassurance, but i know that i'm beautiful because i think i'm beautiful, not because other people find me beautiful. non-sexual nudity has been infinitely more healing for my self image than sexual-nudity ever has been; just learning to love your body and exist with it rather than against it is the most important tip imo. eating cereal naked, sleeping naked, lying in bed naked, doing chores naked-- just allowing yourself to, well, be with yourself and see yourself in the nude is a really nice and non-intrusive (ie rather than going out in public in a swimsuit) way of learning to accept and love your body more.

don't force yourself to be vulnerable before you're ready to be vulnerable and remember that you'll always be perfect as you are-- and that sometimes the greatest comfort comes from knowing that other people don't see the flaws we see in ourselves bc we're all our own worst critics. you'll be okay!

#chats #cw insecurity #cw body image

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scrb1a · 4 months

Text

Midnight in the experimental surgery room. You're surrounded by failed experiments, and you think you've never learned how to love.

In front of you stands a woman who wanted all the fat in her body to be removed. Your team had taken a scalpel all the way down her stomach and peeled the skin off slowly to show the bone. They took little syringes and sucked the fat out of her as the life support drained faster than they could do anything about. Now, she lies cold-fleshed on the counter, and you think you've never learned how to love.

She loved. You wonder how it felt.

When the woman came into the clinic she said, kill me. Make me thin or kill me. Her husband had gone off with a younger, slimmer version of her, and she had laid for the past eighteen nights and days face down on her bed waiting for the fat to be sawed off the bone. She said, I don't care if you have to remove my whole skeleton to get it out. I don't care if you have to transplant my brain and my whole consciousness into someone thinner. I need to be beautiful.

Curiosity comes faster than you can stop it, and suddenly you're plunging your gloved fingertips into the cadaver, and winding round the sawed out ribs to find something warm, and bloody.

You hold the heart in your hands. You watch as you lift it out of the thoracic cavity, the spiderweb veins snap, snap, snapping, left tattered on the floor like an abandoned embroidery project. The thing beats slower and slower out of the flesh, and you can feel it squirm and die.

You turn it, soft, in your hands. The superior vena cava remains tethered to her peeled back body like an umbilical cord; the blood covers your white gloves like amniotic fluid.

As you examine the muscle, you expect there to be a little chip or a scar or something where her husband used to be. The thing is smooth, untouched, solid as a stone. You think of carving the name in yourself. A reminder. You think of mailing it to her home address and her husband opening the package and knowing it was his wife's, feeling the misplaced love finally swoon out of him.

You think of things like this most days. All the women coming into the clinic sobbing, I don’t know if they love me, offering their bodies out to you on a silver platter. All the times you say, there’s a very small chance of survival. All the times they reply, I don’t care. Every single cut too far into their flesh, all their own Icarus.

Nobody seems to learn. You never learned how to love.

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deepdisireslonging · 2 years

Text

Perfect to Me

The Reader isn’t a fan of house galas, no matter their necessity. When one reporter questions too deep into the Wayne couple’s personal life, she questions why and how Bruce picked her. Until he show her those reasons.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader (married)

Warnings/Promises: alcohol/food cw, public toy use, body insecurities, body worship, SMUT, oral (female receiving), window smut

Word Count: 2920

Note: I’m imagining Bruce and the Reader to be older in this fic. Mid to late 40’s or so. There’s not enough older Bruce fics, or ones with an older Reader.

Some women like to wear make-up, some don’t. Some like to don a dress that makes them feel nice, others prefer jeans and a favorite t-shirt. You didn’t mind getting dolled up for galas, press reports, and other such things. Most times you looked forward to them. But when they were in your own home… they lasted an eternity and you would have preferred they were downtown.

Dinners at Wayne Manor always went one of two ways. Option one: everything according to plan. Option two: everything went wrong.

Take a wild guess how this one went.

Dinner as a descriptor was misleading. It was more of a “show off Wayne Manor to the press and to high status citizens to display and establish dominance without being vulgar.” At least this dinner had extra security. Last time, a late-staying guest had made it up to the second floor, widely known to be the private floor, and about got taken out by Damian coming back from an early mission.

“Another glass of wine, Mrs. Wayne?” Alfred offered you the tray with some glasses on it. His eyes gleamed with the knowing look of what your answer would be, and that you needed to vent.

You held up half-full glass to decline. “As much as I want to down this and take another,” you whispered, “that would be the exact second one of those cameras would flash and it would be all over the papers. After you’ve circled the room, perhaps a cup of tea?”

“Rosehip? With a squeeze of lemon?”

“You’re amazing.”

As Alfred walked away, a reporter and a handful of people circled to pepper you with questions about things they already knew. It was drab, mind-numbing, and frustrating. But you held back a small smile.

If they only knew what Bruce had slipped under your dress before you both entered the grand hall… the papers would be ecstatic.

Across the room, Bruce caught your eye. Smoothly, he adjusted to “reflect”, slipping hid hands into his pockets. You inhaled, breathing with the increased vibration of the toy in your panties. He continued to talk, swaying one hand to emphasize a point while the other about swayed you off your feet. When your circle inquired about your health, you gave the usual answer of not being able to handle much alcohol. They tittered on cue, and that should have been the end of it.

“Surely you haven’t recovered from your college reign, have you Mrs. Wayne? I hear you and Bruce used to make quite the team back in the day.”

You angled towards the man who spoke. Ah. The new reporter, if that’s what you could call him. The one with two first names and a popular titillating blog about the private lives of Gotham’s elites. “I like to think we’ve both matured since then. Quality, not quantity, Mr. Jason Jacobs.”

He grinned. “And he certainly found quality in you.” It made you skin crawl with the once-over he gave you. “I hear you’re the one who finally calmed him down, inspired him to start all your charities. Is that true?”

What was he fishing for? “I was hardly his only source. This city is inspiring to so many people. Bruce is one of several who want to give back to the city that built them, the one that takes it’s toll at times, and the city that is always in need.” You shook your head. “I didn’t need to inspire the charities. Gotham’s heart did. And Bruce didn’t need calming down. A thousand photos taken from a thousand angles of one drink does not equate to needing soothing.” Across the room, your husband faced the sound of his name. He saw your angled brow and the tightening grip on your glass. Another reporter pulled him back into the fray, leaving this one with you.

The bastard had you hooked, and you both knew it.

“Alright, so he didn’t need you to… sooth him.” Mr. Jordan’s head cocked to one side, shifting his grin to the other cheek. “Perhaps he drew you into his… wildness, shall we say. His former partners have said he was proficient in bed, and well stocked in… tools.”

“I don’t see how any of this is your business. Nor is it kind of inquiry I usually accept in my house.”

He dipped his head, leaning in a mock bow. “My apologies, Lady Wayne-“

“Mrs. Wayne.”

“Mrs. Wayne.” Jason Jacobs stepped back, once again looking you up and down making you flinch. “But one does have to wonder… how you compare to the women Mr. Wayne had stepped out with. All gorgeous, yourself included. But you’re the one he latched onto. This inquiry is what inspires me.”

Before you could reply, the vibrator ramped up, hollowing your throat. Thrumming with so much anger, you hadn’t remembered it was going. Bruce caught your glass, quickly exchanging it for your favorite teacup. Alfred whisked by to take the glass, nodding in acknowledgment of your thanks.

“That inquiry might inspire the need to show you to the door,” Bruce said, placing his hand on the low of your back after stopping the toy. “Is it necessary?”

“Not at all.” To his neighbor’s shock, he took the glass out of his hand and downed it in a gulp. “I’ll find it myself eventually.” With another pseudo-bow, he wandered off. A glance from Bruce, and the guard against the far wall knew to keep a close eye on him.

Bruce kissed the side of your head. “Might I invite you for some cake?”

You smiled, distracted even though your veins hummed with irritation. “Is it chocolate?”

“Should be. You ordered it.”

An announcement was made for everyone to move into the grand hall. A cake large enough to feed the group, without waste, and enough to flaunt your “woman of the house” ability to party. It was an overly grandiose cake by your standards, but the crowd oohed and ahhed and applauded, so it must have been alright. You two stood on the small stage that pretty much remined constructed. Bruce made the speech for the night’s reason, thanked the right people, and thanked you for good measure. Then, as the crowd murmured and circled round for their treat, he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“Thank you for putting up with all this. I’m sorry it was one of ‘those’ banquets.” He kissed your temple, then ran his nose down your jawline. “And I’m sorry the tease I tried to use wasn’t enough of a distraction.”

You hummed, leaning into him. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.”

He smiled, kissing you deeply. Someone off in the crowd shouted, “get a room!”

“If you guys would hurry up and eat your cake, we would have been there by now!” You laughed, accepting the slice from Alfred, only to dallop a bit of icing on Bruce’s nose. Camera’s flashed, catching the moment of him spreading it along your jawline. Tomorrow, somebody was sure to make parallels to your wedding, but you didn’t care.

Bruce had turned up the toy again. He turned it down so you could focus enough to cut another morsel, then set it high as you took the bite. As you hummed around your fork, Bruce adjusted his stance. He turned so the growing bulge in his pants wasn’t obvious. It took forever to get the last guest out the front door. All the while, he kept increasing and decreasing the vibrations at the worst possible moments, taking delight when you would have to take an extra breath before speaking or would grip his wrist like a vice. Nobody seemed to notice, including Jason Jacobs, who gave you a wide berth while shaking Bruce’s hand. A guards followed him out to make sure he and his ride made it out the front gate.

Once catering had left too, Alfred closed all the doors and locked them. He dusted off his hands for good measure.

Bruce checked in with Dick and Tim, co-patrolling tonight, before coming up to the master bedroom.

You both shed your outer layers of clothing in the closet, a precaution to keep bugs and listening devices out of your room. A necessary and annoying precaution. But Bruce made the best of it by kissing your shoulders, your neck, between your shoulderblades, every chance he took. He brought the toy with him when you were both down to your skivvies and could flop down on the bed. The sigh you released as he turned off the last vibration did not match his intended goal.

“Was tonight too much? We can reschedule next month’s event at the Tower instead of here.”

It was a moment before you replied. First, you rolled over to face him. “Why did you settle on me?”

A gentle smile made his eyes sparkle as he matched your pose. “I didn’t settle.” He pushed a lock of your hair out of your face. “I’ll make sure Mr. Jacobs is not invited to another event. I’m not entirely sure how he got one in the first place.”

“It’s not even that. It’s-“ When words failed, you sat up, looking down at your body and remembering what it used to look like when you first married Bruce and fought by Batman’s side. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice Bruce moving to sit against the headboard until he was pulling you into his lap.

He gently tilted your chin up to look you in the eye. “Tell me what’s swirling around in your head.”

You looked down at your chest. Before you could speak, Bruce reached back and undid the clasp to your bra, tossing it away. It didn’t help your train of thought.

“My breasts aren’t as perky as they used to be.”

“They fit into my hands just fine.” He drew a gasp out of you by kneading them. “Or don’t you agree?”

“Maybe.”

You whimpered as he pinched your nipples. With your mouth open for panting, Bruce took advantage to press his lips to yours, equally opened mouthed as you gripped his biceps. He gripped you back. Canting and tilting together, you were soon breathless. But you moaned when his hands worked back to rest on the love handles that hadn’t been there in years past.

“I haven’t been able to keep up my figure as well as I used to. You could have had any pick of housewife…”

“I didn’t need a housewife. I wanted a partner.” He held you close, skimming his hands down to your ass to grip it. “And as for your figure… it’s still perfect to me. It warms under my touch. Bruises beautifully when I want it to. Heals with my help when someone else did the damage.” Nuzzling his nose across your jawline, Bruce dropped to a whisper, “you are all I ever wanted. And I could spend an entire night reminding you of every little detail I love… if you’ll let me.”

You flushed with the possibilities but, “what about out there? Gotham’s finest criminals don’t take a night off when Mrs. Wayne has some insecurities.”

Bruce made a show of reaching over to the speaker on the end table. “Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Bruce?”

“Are the boys off doing their thing tonight?”

“They are, as they say, locked-stocked-and-loaded, Sir.”

Bruce grinned. “Thank you. Keep me posted if they need anything.”

“Unlikely, but I will. Goodnight, Master Bruce.”

A second later, you were in his arms again. He held his lips to your forehead, swaying with you side to side in the dance neither of you had been able to catch earlier in the evening. With a sigh, you relished the warmth of his hands sliding around to the small of your back, then down to rest on the globes of your ass. He guided you to rest on one thigh and to rock against it.

“Mind if I share a few worries of my own?”

“Of course.” You buried your head into his chest, placing your ear against his pectoral to hear his heartbeat.

“Does it bother you that I don’t get hard as quickly as I used to?”

You chuckled. “You seemed pretty turned on earlier when you were toying with me.”

“Ah, but I already had an hour or so imagining what I was going to do to you once we kicked everyone out.”

Reaching down, you cupped his groin. “What did you have in mind?”

“This.” He nudged your head to one side with his own so he could latch onto your sweet spot. He nibbled and sucked there gently. “And this,” he murmured against your skin as he reached for your breast, working through well-known motions to bring your nipples to a peak. “And this.” With his other hand, he dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, sliding his fingers through your slick. “Hmm, doesn’t look like there’s much for me to do there.” He moved to suckle to other side of your neck. “What else could I possibly do to you?”

With a jolt of his hips, he rolled you off, laying you on your back so he could hover over you. His fingers continued to work you to gushing. But his lips moved to nip across your collar bone. Down to the valley of your breasts. Up to one peak, then the other. Then down your stomach, uncaring of its rolls and pudge. Down one thigh, making you cry out when he didn’t move where you wanted. Bruce gave you mercy, drawing down your underwear and admiring your sex, making you squirm. He hopped over to kiss the inside of your other thigh before finally joining his fingers at your sex.

By then, you were canting towards anything resembling an increase to your pleasure. When he finally started to lap at your clit, you moaned loudly, degenerating into calling out his name. He chuckled into your sex. Spurred on, he kept up his movements until your walls clamped around his fingers and drenched his tongue. His lips, sticky with your essence, kissed their way back up your body to mouth at the hollow of your throat.

You reached for his cock, hard and still trapped in his boxers. He grunted into your skin. It was obvious what you wanted to do, but Bruce stopped your crawl down towards his bulge. He lifted you up and had you lean against the window, pressing your chest into the cold glass. At first you struggled, afraid of who might see, even if it was the back of the manor. He shushed you and kissed along your spine.

“I had them modified while you were away with the mayor’s wife last week. They’re one sided, so we can look out, but nobody can look in. And heat blocking, so infrared cameras or devices can’t se us moving around in here from the outside. Not a soul can see us. Perhaps that is a shame, I do love showing you off.” Your hips bucked back, making him groan. He worked out of his boxers so he could run his cock through your slick dripping down your thighs. “Not a soul can see what I’m about to do to you.”

A bit at a time, he worked into you. Slowly, but surely, filling you to the brim. Finally sheathed, he placed his hands over yours on the glass, trapping them there. There was nothing you could do when he set a hard pace except to breathe and do your best meeting his thrusts. Your cries increased in pitch, and your walls tightened around his cock. Bruce groaned and grunted, meeting your gaze in the window’s inward reflection. He caught your breasts as they swung, using them to heighten your pleasure.

“You are perfect, Y/N. You take my cock so well, put up with my antics and dangers better than any other woman could. Only you could make me this desperate to fill you as often as I can. I knew the second I held you close for the first time that you were the one. Nothing you could ever do, no change in your body, absolutely nothing could change my mind.”

Against the glass, your nails clawed, anxious to grip anything. “Need you, Bruce. Please. Almost there.”

He moved faster, moaning into your hair. “Always gorgeous. Cum for me. Let me feel you-“

Your body seized, shivering and quaking as your eyes rolled back.

Bruce kept moving. He pressed you further into the glass, holding you around your waist to help pull you onto his cock. You screamed for him as he tipped you into another release before filling you with his own.

Wobbling on jello-legs, you let Bruce guide you to the bed. The sheets were haphazardly pulled down to tuck you under. He flopped on top of you panting into your shoulder from behind. It wasn’t long after his arm curved over your hip that gentle snoring rumbled against your spin. You took his hand an gave his knuckles a kiss.

“And you are perfect to me, too. Always knowing what to say and do when my worst thoughts creep in. Always being there for me, no matter the circumstance, event or mission.” You gave his hand a squeeze in the pattern that said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he muttered in his sleep.

You drifted off soon after. Sated, satisfied, and sure of your place in his heart like never before.

***

Masterlist

DC Masterlist

***

Other Wayne Galas/Events:

Whispers (S) - Jason Todd

Midnight Vibrations (New Years, S) - Dick Grayson

A Night at the Theater (S) - Bruce Wayne

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #reader insert #DC comics #batfamily #batfamily x reader #cw food #cw alcohol #body insecurities #body worship

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balladetto · 5 months

Text

enter the forest / accepting / @guideoftime

"Tell me what's happening to you. I want to understand."

You really shouldn't, sits at the tips of his fingers.

"Long story," Link signs with halting motions, hands stiff and cleaving through empty space like an awkwardly swung sword. It's so long a story it may as well be his entire life — is his entire life. How do you tell someone something like that? Where do you start with something like that? From the beginning, logically, but that's everything he doesn't think about. Everything he's never shown anyone. Everything he's felt and feels, with his own face-heart-soul or not.

All of it is everything in itself.

I don't belong, he could say, but he'd have to follow the thread to completion with even when I think I do. I am growing into a body that wasn't mine, he could say, but he'd have to explain what's so upsetting about and now it is. There's a lot he could offer for even a fraction of a glimpse into "what's happening to him", but won't 'cause Sheik— Sheik wants so much more.

Link is being asked to pry himself open. To consider his hands and his voice and his shoulders and all that he presently is, and connect them to memories that share their shape: the monsters he's killed, the man he's felled, the powers he's defeated for times and people he'll never see again. He pulls a layer of skin aside to find the muscle beneath contracted the way he won't ever forget hefting the Fierce Deity's sword feels, and sets the membrane back down with stitches made of numb silence.

He looks away from Sheik. His head dips, fingers flitting between outlines of words that don't mean anything — don't amount to anything — and Link's breath audibly shakes against the roof of his mouth as he tries reaching for his voice. It unsticks from the walls of his throat, stumbling up and against his teeth on some indistinct noise.

Just as it did the last time he heard it, changed and deeper than he's comfortable with, it shrivels up like something dead on his tongue.

( There's a part of him that's selfishly glad Sheik's noticed. Link doesn't talk much, but his quiet hasn't been a total, utter silence like it's been these past weeks since those seven years that didn't happen. Or maybe it's not Sheik at all. Maybe it's Zelda who noticed — maybe it's Zelda who asked Sheik to be here, to ask this, to "want to understand". Link can't be sure through the fog of buzzing noise his mind has made of his thoughts. )

"I'm remembering," he finally settles on, thumb twisting harder than it needs to on his temple. It doesn't clear anything up. Link doesn't intend for it to. He only needs to give his companion something that's not a non-answer; Sheik at least deserves that. "I'm remembering. All the time."

#guideoftime #( as always; thanks for this and your patience!!#setting this in his grown verse. but like. at that stage where he's close to the build he has as fd-li.nk #which. y'know. constantly and uncomfortably reminds him of being fd-li.nk and all the things that entails :')#which snowballs and triggers just. the longest episode of this is not (how i want) my body (and i can't even escape from it this time)#and insecurities. can't forget about those #li.nk vc: puberty was already hellish enough and now i gotta deal with my dysmorphic issues on a daily basis???? )#* lionheart / ic.#* lionheart / answer.#* ic / para.#* v / to make a home of this body.#long post cw #death mention #ask to tag /

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father-lance · 6 months

Text

Cw: Body Shaming, But With Some Self Shipping Sprinkled In

I Desperately Want Jonathan To Hold Me While I Wear This Fucking Strawberry Dress That I Have Convinced Myself I Look Fat In, And Tell Me I Look So Beautiful And That He Wants To Show Me Off To Everybody And He Will Put Anybody In Their Place, Including Myself, If I Or Somebody Talks Bad About Me/Myself

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo #jonathan joestar #self ship #jjba self ship #self ship community #self indulgent #tw body issues #TW body shaming #Cw body shaming #tw body insecurity #Cw Body Insecurity #vent #InFatherPucccisArms #FatherLancesSermon

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