I love your writing and am so excited to read more! Chubby!Frankie is so hot and feral 🖤 I want to make him a birthday cake just for him and watch him eat it on his birthday ❤️ Most of my thots are food themed so I'm excited to find this type of fic! Have a lovely day!
ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE!
Everyone enjoys a bit of cake... some enjoy more at a time than others - thank you, @neverwheremoonchild for your generous contribution to the THOT TANK!
Beefro 👌🥩💜
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Beefro Proudly Presents:
a Chubby!Frankie one shot
The Catfish & The Mouse: Happy Birthday, Frankie! Part 1
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader (Mouse!)
Summary: Frankie has his cake and eats it all.
Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)
Word Count: 1,623
Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut (alluded to), Belly Worship, Belly Stuffing, Oral (m-receiving), shirt popping, birthday nonsense
Author's Notes: Chubby!Frankie is a happy boy! Part 2 coming soon to a Beefro's Bistro near you!
Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings for their time, energy & eyeballs - you're review is greatly appreciated!
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“So… what’s the verdict? A barbeque or are you going throw him a private party yourself?”, Hannah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you from across the table.
You laughed and took another drink of your latte. “Not sure… I asked him and he didn’t give me a straight answer. But he was insistent that he get a Reece’s Pieces birthday cake.”
You had gone out shopping with Hannah, and the topic of Frankie’s birthday came up. Anytime it was one of the group’s special day, there was generally some sort of get together, and Hannah was the queen of party planning.
“Oh, Frankie… what are we going to do with him?”, Hannah mused. “How about we just take him to the bar and make they guys watch as we drink ourselves stupid?”
“Love that idea. I’ll tell him that because he didn’t answer, you and I planned something special for him – us! Drunk!”, you nodded with a big laugh.
By the time you got home, you’d worked over your bank account pretty well picking out birthday gifts for Frankie. As you were hiding your haul in the linen closet, you heard Frankie come in through the kitchen door from the garage.
“Mouse? You home, baby?”, he called out. You heard the fridge open and him open a beer.
You shoved the rest of the bags into the closet – you’d sort it out later – and skipped into the kitchen.
As you rounded the corner, you stopped and stared at Frankie. He was covered in grease and dirt… and was standing in your clean kitchen. Your eyes looked at the dirty foot prints on the floor and the finger smudges on your fridge.
Your face must have projected the internal screaming that blasted in your brain and Frankie held his hands up.
“Baby.”, he said, taking a step towards you with a cheeky glint is his eye. “Come and give me a kiss.”
Another step towards you. Your eyes widened and your jaw tightened, as you took a step back, knowing where this was going.
“Come here, princess.”, he smiled wryly. “Missed you, baby. Gimme a kiss.”
Another step to you. And another step back from him.
“Frankie… stop.”, you warned, swallowing thick. As much as you hated the mess, seeing Frankie dirty and sweaty from working in the garage did something to you. But you would not allow him to make a mess of you or your house right now!
He flashed you a bright smile, his hands in front beckoning you. “Pretty baby… just a little grime… come on, princess, come get dirty.”
He took a quick step towards you, and you hopped back and yelped, “Stop right now or no birthday cake!”
He stopped in his tracks and pouted, hands falling to his sides. “Aw, Mouse… don’t say that! I’m gonna clean it up!”
“You better, Francisco Morales!”, you shook a finger at him. “Or no cake.”
*****
It was here – Frankie’s birthday! You’d stay up late the night before to finish decorating his cake. You wanted it ready and waiting for him when he got up, as he insisted that “cake is for breakfast on your birthday”. It wasn’t a rule you followed for yours, but you would happily make sure Frankie got his wish.
You got up before he did and made your way to the kitchen to put up a few decorations. You had him for the day, and tonight, Benny had a fight. You’d all go to the bar to celebrate Frankie afterwards – it’s what Frankie wanted.
Once the final streamer was tacked up, you heard Frankie calling you from the bedroom.
“WHERE’S MY BIRTHDAY BLOWJOB?”, he yelled.
You barked out a laugh as you hopped down from the counter. “Coming right up, Frankie!”
You walked into your room and crawled onto the bed as Frankie laid back, lazily stroking his cock.
“Getting it all fired up for you, princess…”, he grunted, voice cracking with sleep. “Take your top off… wanna see your perfect tits.”
Not one to argue with a birthday boy, you straddled one of his thighs and took it off and shook your tits; Frankie groaned and reached out his free hand to grab one. “Oh fuck…”
“When we’re done here, I’ve got breakfast all ready for you, honey.”, you cooed, as you reached and took over stroking his cock.
Frankie sat up and grabbed the back of your neck, maneuvering you in position, then he gently began pushing your head down. Your open mouth took in his weeping, angry tip, and you rolled your tongue over it and sucked.
“If breakfast is what I think it is, then you need to get moving, princess.”
*****
After Frankie unloaded into your waiting mouth, and you both cleaned yourselves up, you had your hands over Frankie’s eyes as you navigated him to the kitchen.
“No peeking until I say so!”, you laughed, making sure his eyes were closed as you scampered to the other side of the kitchen table, and Frankie nodded, eyes covered.
“Okay, look!”
Frankie opened his eyes and scanned the table; a small pile of presents and a double-layered sheet cake that read, “Happy Birthday, Frankie Baby!” across it.
“Happy birthday, baby!”, you shouted as he came around to hug you.
*****
Frankie had opened his gifts while you sat with him. When he asked how big of a cake piece he should cut for himself, he just about fell off his chair when you informed him that the whole cake was his piece if he wanted it.
Good god, did you spoil him.
“You don’t have to eat it all-“
“I’m gonna.”, he interrupted with a grin as he rubbed his hands together.
Before he got to work, he went and changed into a different, looser pair of sweatpants, and then he dug in.
Just a few bites in, he had completely forgone cutting pieces off the cake and was now eating from the tray directly.
“Jesus, this is good, Mouse.”, he said with a full mouth before swallowing, and continued with a laugh. “Can you imagine if I was trying to lose weight and you made me stuff like this?”
You gave a little laugh and came around, standing next to him.
“How’re you doing, baby? Getting full?”, you asked teasingly as you rubbed his belly.
He put his hand on top of yours and smiled at you. “Nah, princess, don’t worry... got room for the rest.”
He went to take another bite, but you stopped him. “Frankie… I wanna try something. You know that button up shirt you have with the stain on it?”
He nodded as his grin grew on his face, knowing where you were going with this. He changed his shirt, and it was already a little tight over his tummy.
“Nice knowing ya, shirt!”, Frankie said as he went back to work.
Frankie sat back and sighed. A good portion of the cake was now causing wide gaps between the buttons and pulling the shirt taut across his belly.
“One of these better pop soon or I’m not gonna be able to finish. Getting pretty tight.”, he huffed, poking one the straining buttons.
“I guess it’s a well-made shirt.” You said as you leaned on the table, next to him. Your fingers danced over the exposed skin popping through. “Come on, baby. Get back to it.”
You got up and went to get him something to drink. You heard Frankie take a deep breath, then a few ping-ing sounds, then Frankie groan, “Thank fuck!”
You turned around to see that Frankie had popped two of the central buttons, and his belly had pushed out.
“Now I got more room.”, he said as he dove back into his cake.
By the time all the cake was in Frankie – minus some of the frosting that decorated his face – he was sitting back patting his taut belly.
The only button that remained on the shirt was the one that sat on his sternum. The rest were either on the floor or table.
“Fuck me, Mouse…”, Frankie tried to stifle a small burp. “I’m full.”
You’d pulled a chair up and sat next to him and your hands gently massaged his bloated tummy, feeling how solid it felt under your fingers.
“Oof, Frankie… your tummy’s solid.”, you gasped. “You feeling okay, honey?”
“M’fine… just full of cake… best thing to be on your birthday.”, he grinned as he patted his tummy.
He tried to stand up and winced, rubbing his packed stomach. “Fucking heavy, too. Oof.”
He stood to his full height, stretched his back and he looked adorable; he had a bedhead still and frosting on his face, and was wearing a shirt only held on with one button and low-slung sweatpants. The star of the show was his big tummy, framed by the white button up.
“How do I look? Like I’m ready to party?”, Frankie asked you with a wink and a grin.
“Oh boy, do you ever!”, you laughed, taking his had and tugging him to the den.
Frankie spent the rest of day on the couch. You spent the morning portion of his couch time sitting on his lap, rubbing and massaging his tummy, helping him deal with the heavy contents of his stomach.
“You having a good birthday so far?”, you asked as you finished his rub and patted his belly.
“Mmmmmyeah….”, Frankie moaned happily as his hands found your waist, eyes shut and feeling drowsy. “Got my dick sucked by a pair of beautiful lips, opened presents, loaded up on cake, wrecked a shirt, and got a tummy rub from this smoking hot woman sitting on my lap. I can’t ask for more.”
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TAGLIST:
@harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity
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Okay look idk if this is a hot take and idc bc for me it's canon😂
While idk about mob!bucky, i think Bucky in general is v attracted to smartness (like sapiosexual) bc like he is a nerd at heart and i think he loves when his girl starts to like talk smart and ramble about one thing or another she knows a lot about and I'm not saying he'll get aroused or anything but umm... I think it'd certainly have some sort of an effect on him👀
Anyway this was just a thought i had for a while that came up bc of that one stucky anon ask so i thought i'd share🙈🖤
Some thots below the cut. No minors as always this is 18+.
Mafia Mondays Drabbles.
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader
Bucky loves the sound of your voice. He can and will listen to you talk all day. You have a lilt to your voice that he finds soothing. And it helps that he's madly and thoroughly in love with you.
Bucky discovered early in the relationship that when you talk about something you're truly passionate about it, the tone of your voice changes and your eyes brighten with an intensity he could drown in. You’re addicting. You become a siren calling to him and he will gladly follow into the depths of the ocean just to hear you say his name.
Or around the house.
Like he's doing right now, his blue eyes focused on your lips as he walks backwards into his office, his hands on your hips, listening to you speak about your newest fixation. He's already planning on researching every little thing about it tonight so he can surprise you in the morning.
But for now, he just wants to listen to his best girl even if he has no idea what you're talking about.
Bucky grabs your hips, pulling you flush to his chiseled bare chest, swallowing your small 'oof' with a passionate kiss. Without breaking the kiss he leads you to the small couch across from his desk, his back hitting the smooth leather.
“What else, бабочка?” He groans against your lips, his mouth sliding along the curve of your jaw, nipping and kissing. “Tell me everything.”
“Well its-Bucky!” You giggle, the feeling of his large, warm and rough hands sliding under your chest, smoothing over your belly breaks your concentration. How can he expect you to keep talking when he’s sucking a bruise right below your ear and his fingers are sliding under the swell of your breasts?
“Go on бабочка. I’m listening.” He’s not but the fact that he gets so turned on and so fucking hard whenever you speak has your ego out of control and panties always damp. He’s so damn attentive and sweet and feral when it comes to you.
You still get shivers from the time you tried to tease him by reading the most tedious book you could get your hands on aloud to him Your mafia king not only listened with a pleased smirk, but he also dropped to his knees before you and devoured your cunt with the firm instructions that you had to keep reading.
“I uh, huh?” You try to finish what you were saying but he’s making it hard to think let alone form legible sentences. You start repeating yourself around the same time he ripped your shirt into two, his soft lips kissing along your belly. Blue eyes flicker up to you and a grin tugs at his lips as you stumble over your response.
Bucky settles back on the couch, fisting his thick, long cock in one hand. You glance down, your mouth falling open. Oh, suddenly you don’t care about talking at all. You’d rather do other things with your tongue.
One gently yank and you’re falling over his lap, thighs beside his, hands on his shoulders and you’re sinking down his warm cock, inch by inch, his low moan as you envelop him reverberates across the room, your own soft gasp echoes in his ear. How can he make you feel so good and full without even moving?
Bucky stills your hips with his large hands, silencing your playful whine with another kiss. He grinds into you just enough to make sure he’s fully bottomed up, going as deep as he possibly can, stretching your tight warm pussy around him. He tips your chin back, gazing into your eyes. A smirk parting his swollen pink lips.
“You got my full attention, бабочка. Now be a good girl and tell me any and everything.” His voice deepens to a low, lusty growl, sending an array of shivers down your back. “The more you talk, the more you get to cum.”
And I-
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