Where I’m from, we call it potato jeremies (WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU FROM)
Shapesmith x Reader
No CW, just mildly suggestive (He brings up mating)
You knew he was back again. You knew it, you fucking knew it. You heard the door to your store open, and your coworker let out a heavy sigh.
“…..he’s back.” She grunted. “You cool to deal with him?”
“Yea- he’s harmless. Just—-“
“He’s annoying.” She slipped into the back, subtly shoving you up to the counter. You couldnt help but snicker to yourself. Your coworker found every customer annoying.. Shapesmith was just a bit strange, was all. You could handle strange. You liked strange.
You smiled brightly as he approached the counter. “Shapesmith!”
“Hello, fellow human! Working- human- food- uhm-“
You tell him your name, trying your hardest not to giggle at his dumbfounded face. He blinked before his face split into a grin.
“Right! Yes- I am here… to order food!! Because that is what these establishments are for!” He nodded, examining the menu, tilting his head back and forth. His little hair fwippies twitched- or maybe they just moved? You still weren’t sure what he was. Alien, shapeshifter… maybe something like IT. You were a sucker for monsters. But well…
“…..yes… I see…”
He was too much of a cutie to be considered a monster.
You wondered if he could read English. Maybe he had trouble with the brightness? Shapesmith looked at you, a bit lost. He was like a puppy, almost…
“My.. team needs food.. so… how abooout….” Shapesmith squinted at the menu. He… did not know what half these earth foods were. They did not look like Hot and ready pizzas, and it was already hard enough to focus with you there. The other food people always looked annoyed with him, but you… you smiled.
You had a pretty smile. A pretty face. He liked looking at it. It made it hard for him to think, to focus, he just wanted to keep looking.
“…if your friends need snacks, we have a special of sides being 4 for 4. Cheap option.” You explained gently, head tilting back as he nodded dumbly. “Fries, Hush puppies, that kind of stuff.” You watched as he scanned the menu again, His lips pursed. Cute. He was cute.
“Yes! Uh… four for four.. A fair deal indeed, fellow human…” He looked around before leaning close, looking a bit lost. “What’s the other four for?” He whispered.
“That means its four dollars- well… with tax, closer to five dollars.” You explained gently, twirling a bit of your hair around your finger. His gaze focused in on the motion, pupils doing something totally not human. “....where are you from?” You tilted your head, curiosity overriding any sort of customer-service protocol that had been trained into you for the past six months.
Shapesmith looked downright panicked, his eyes comically round. “Uh—-” He looked around quickly, fidgeting anxiously with his gloves. “....I am.. From an earth town-! Very— very far away, I’m sure you wouldn’t know it existed. Yes. Yes, that is where I am from!” He smiled at you, lop-sided and adorably anxious. You pressed your lips together, trying your hardest not to giggle.
He was an absolutely miserable liar. It was cute.
“You’re cute.” You teased, leaning against the counter. His gaze flicked to the curve of your back, and his cheeks got all pink and rosy. He was squirmy already, shifting back and forth under your gaze. He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck- an almost cartoonishly cute gesture that had you smiling to yourself.
“Haha- wow, you think so?” He beamed, still fidgeting nervously. Rex had said that cute humans would flirt with him- but he certainly wasn’t expecting you, someone so aggressively attractive to him. He cleared his chest and sat up a bit taller, trying to make himself look stronger and more ‘impressive’. He tilted his head and flashed a crooked smile at you, trying his damndest to emulate what he had seen Rexsplode do when attempting to mate with other humans.
“I– I Mean-” He cleared his throat, his face burning as he tried to channel the heroic romantic…ness his fellow super powered pal had. “Yes-! I am very attractive and…. So are you.” He leaned on the counter, smiling. “So.. I believe we should mate!”
The sentence hung awkwardly in the air. You weren’t… opposed, per se, but the bluntness of his words caught you off guard. You stared at Shapesmith, mouth opening, then closing, then opening again. Before you could stop yourself, you giggled. He visibly deflated and it took everything in you not to coo at the kicked puppy look that crossed his face.
“How about a date first?” You gently grab his hand and squeezed. “I mean… I’m free tomorrow if you are.” You watched the wheels turn in his head. Shapesmith lit up, a big, goofy grin on his face. He squeezed your hands in his, the gloves feeling unnaturally warm.
(Seriously, you needed to figure out what he was before the two of you ‘mated’.)
“Yes!” He nodded eagerly. “A date sounds perfect- it is perfect. You are perfect.” He grinned. A faint heat rises in your face, and you smile back at him. From somewhere in the back, you hear your co-worker fake gag.
“W-well- it's a date.” You smiled and slipped off to the back to get his food started.
“You’re fucking weird.” Your coworker grumbled, getting Shapesmith’s order ready. You stuck your tongue out at her.
(Thragg, Conquest, Kregg, and Lucan x Chubby reader)
Thragg
He’s… okay he’s not exactly the best. You’re human, so he already sees you as a lesser, weaker being- add the extra weight, and the Ruler of the Viltrum Empire seems damn near convinced you can’t take care of yourself.
He is physically domineering, and it is oh so apparent with you. He will always have you near- at this point, youre a comfort object like the skull he carries around. Except, well.. Youre alive. And in a way, that makes you better. He often will just grab you and drag you off, holding you close and manhandling you close to his chest. All of the other viltrumites have learned not to question this, have grown used to the sight of you on Thragg’s lap, his large hand using your belly like a stress toy.
He is also a big fan of you laying on top of him. In those quiet moments, when it’s just the two of you in his grand chambers, he has you gathered on top of him. Thragg is always quiet, but this type of quiet is a lot more gentle. His hands run over the curves of your form, squeezing the soft flesh of your arms, the plentiful give of your stomach and thighs a delightful comfort to him. If you look closely enough, you swear he’s smiling. He likes to hold you, loves it, really. Soft and fragile, you’re so.. Weak. Normally, typically, he would despise such weakness. He figures you produced some sort of madness, like how the other humans did in his soldiers. If you didn’t feel so delightful against him, he probably would have ripped your head from your shoulders.
But he loves you. So you live.
Conquest
Awful in the best possible way. Big baby is so touch starved, and here YOU are!!! A walking, squirming teddy bear.
Yea you’re not getting him off of you.
He’s always lingering closeby, giant hands always on some part of you. Holding your hands, resting on your hips, shoulders, or, if he’s feeling pitiful and lonely, he’s picking you up, squeezing you until you squeak. His hands wander over your tummy, kneading the soft flesh, trying to get under your shirt- most times, it’s not even in a sexual way. He just wants skin to skin contact, wants to properly feel his darling little pet.
He likes shoving his face against your sides, against your tummy, into the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your armpit. Conquest is like a giant kitty cat, all eager and- well— he will lay on you. He justifies it to himself as to make sure you won’t run. But he also uses you like a living pillow, resting his large head on your chest or belly, listening to you breathe. He doesn’t relax until your breaths even out, and you’re asleep under him. Then, he relaxes, petting your face and just.. watching him. To conquest, it’s a miracle that a soft, sweet thing like yourself would ever dare to put up with him. So he plans to cherish you.. very, very dearly.
Kregg
SHOOWWWWWOOOOFFF!!!!!!
Listen, Kregg canonically has game. He also, canonically, has a fat wife. He isnt picky. He loves you very dearly, of course. How could he not? He loves all of his partners equally, and the time he spends with you is time he cherishes.
Most of the time, its just the two of you enjoying each others presence. He likes to hold you in his lap, ignoring how you fuss and fret about being ‘too heavy for him’. The sentiment makes him chuckle, squeezing you closer. You could never be too heavy for him.
Seriously- youve seen him lift a car one handed. You still dont know how he managed to do that. You tried to get an answer out of him, he distracted you quickly, peppering your soft, round face in gentle kisses. Oh yes, Kregg is oh so gentle with you. Even if you don’t know what he is, he knows how easily he could break your bones. So, he’s gentle with you, manhandling you carefully, as if the slightest squeeze would shatter you. He’s doting, even if he disappears for a few weeks every once in a while. When he comes back, he brings you a myriad of gifts– usually sweets, or new clothes for you. Overall just a big sweetheart
Lucan
The most normal. Lucan’s a big boy himself, tall and wide- he’d appreciate a partner who could match him in that sense.
He’s a sweetheart, too. A big, gentle sweetheart. He adores you- doting, gentle, loving… he wants you to know how much he loves you. Lucan’s always touching you. Holding your hand, your hip, his large hand resting on your belly, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh.
He loves taking you out- restaurants, movies, flying you to whatever major landmark you mentioned wanting to see. He’s giving, he’s a giver, he loves you with all his heart
He was watching again. You knew it. You knew he was.
You didn’t spare a glance up from the feed you were watching, but your shoulders tensed. Dr. Easterman’s presence irked you.
You could never quite enunciate why, but it just… did. Maybe it was his voice, or his idiotic ideas, or the fact that he got a masturbatory glee from watching people suffer.
You were no hypocrite. You were doing it for science, and the money.
Mostly the money.
You shook your head, trying to ignore his staring. He had turned his attention onto you, leering at you from behind that ever constant cloud of smoke.
“….Nurse.” He spoke softly, his voice filled with a confidence he hadnt earned. It makes you grimace, but you give him your attention, acknowledging him with a slight tilt of your head.
When you don’t verbally acknowledge him, he almost shivers, his fist clenching. “A word, please. I have some questions about the latest test results coming from the Judas Project.” Easterman walked off, motioning you to follow. It felt like– well, it felt like a horrible choice to follow him. But you had no choice. He was your boss and despite how much you hated him, he paid your bills.
Easterman padded into his office, lighting another cigarette. He glanced at you, taking a long drag. The silence was unbearable, just the sound of your breaths, and the vague ticking of the clock. He tilted his head, his amber eyes intently studying your face.
“...sir?” You tilted your head, trying to keep the annoyance from your tone. “Is something wrong?”
“You despise me.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Shit. Shit. You hadn’t realized you were that easy to read- god, had you been glaring at him that much? Your brows furrowed in frustration, but you were quickly drawn out of your internal scolding when he shuddered.
What.
“You do…” Easterman clicked his tongue, “How cruel. Even after all the care I’ve shown you.” He padded closer, crowding you against his desk. He rested his hand against the desk, leaning closer. You bristled, shoulders squaring as his nose brushes against your cheek. The heat from his cigarette is unbearable.
“Dr. Easterman– this is hardly appropriate.” You grit out, your hands shaking ever so slightly. You wanted to hit him- knock his ass out. “I do not hate you-”
“You do..” He teased, head tilting, “My beautiful sadist… I can see the disdain in your eyes. You yearn to hurt me, don't you?”
You do. You want to hurt him. The urge to bash his stupid fucking face in is making your hands shake. His breathing is so goddamn loud, and he is so unbearably close.
“Go on, my dear.” Easterman’s cold, clammy fingers closed around your wrist. “Hurt me. I want to see your rage. I can handle it. Go on…” He pulled your hand to his face, “Hurt your daddy.”
That was all you needed. That god-awful fucking title sent you over the edge. You hated him. You despised him. Drawing your fist back, you socked him square in the jaw, knocking the older man to the ground. The surprised grunt he let out sent a disgusting thrill up your spine.
But you kept hitting. In the frenzied movement, he ended up pinned under you, your hips straddling his waist. The sound of knuckles meeting flesh over and over quickly turned wet. “Mother— FUCKER!” You snarled and grabbed him by the tie. “Is this what you wanted? Such a miserable fucking daddy.” You spat.
Easterman, However, seemed downright euphoric. His hands grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer. He panted and groaned in exquisite agony, the feeling of your rage like an opiate- dangerous, but oh so delicious. His mouth fell open as he groaned. He hadn’t been this aroused in a long time.
You could feel his cock pressing against the curve of your thigh.
“You… are so fucking disgusting.” You spat, slamming him down against the floor. He was covered in blood- his nose busted, his lip split- but he was beaming.
Conquest, specifically, is the biggest enjoyer of a fat human
The poor thing is so touch starved, and the extra weight makes you more real, more substantial under his giant hands. He can squeeze you tighter, hold you closer, and you can take it.
He will also manhandle you- it’s funny How you react. You’ve been surrounded by weaklings for too long, he thinks. He likes throwing you around, picking you up, carrying you around, just to remind you that you could never be too heavy for him, sweetheart
Look at that face. That man loves extra meat on his humans. That is someone who yearns for a fat bitch to take care of and to take care of him
That was your first thought, when Victor introduced you to the girl, to Miss Ashcroft.
Poor dear was terrified, stuttering over her words, shaking like a leaf…
You couldnt help but smile. “Miss Ashcroft…” you shook her hand, feeling the softness of her fingers against yours. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you..”
She relaxed slightly, looking up at you with those anxious eyes. “I.. it’s nice to meet you too.” She managed a soft smile.
You felt your heart squeeze. Oh my god. Oh she was utterly precious.
You smiled, not letting go of her hand. Not yet. Not while Victor’s fat ass was there, lingering, staring down the two of you. Instead, you gently pull the girl along.
“You look like you need some rest, Miss Ashcroft.”
“Y.. you can.. call me Grace.” She smiled nervously, following you. “….do.. d.. do you work for—?”
You let out a sharp laugh. “Victor? God, no.” You opened the door for her, ushering her into the closest thing that counted as a ‘guest room’ in this god forsaken facility.
Grace glanced back at you as you dug aroumd for an extra set of clothes. Poor girl deserved better than bloody rags- bloody—
You sit up and scowl at her. “How did you get hurt?” You gently grabbed her hands. “Did he-?”
“N… no- well- he choked me,”
“HE WHAT?!”
Grace flinched and smiled nervously, dipping her head.
You were going to shoot that overgrown reptile. You were. You were going to kill him.
“I… I’m okay-!” Grace couldnt help but smile. It was… nice. Having someone worry over her.
She watched as you grumbled irritably and handed her a new set of clothes. “…t.. thanks.” She smiled shyly. “…..”
You felt your face get warmer. Oh, oh she was positively darling.
You didn’t even register the fact that you were staring until she made a hesitant little noise.
“I need to.. uh…”
Your flush deepens. “Right,” you turn your back to her, arms crossing over your chest. Jesus Christ, what were you doing? Acting like a schoolgirl wirh a crush- and over someone half your age! You listen intently to the rustle of clothes, and every little sound Grace made.
“….” You peeked back at her as she pulled her shirt on. Her skin was smooth, unblemished aside from a few bruises.
She really was perfect. Pretty and sweet…
Amd you were staring again.
Grace squirmed under your intense gaze, a blush splotching her cheeks. “……” she looked up at you through her lashes. “A.. n.. now what?”
You clicked your tongue, running a hand through your hair. “I suppose you should rest, Miss Ashcroft.” You approached and gently fixed her hair, using it as an excuse to card your fingers through her soft soft hair. “Youve had a long day, havent you?”
She blushed, eyes widening. But she didn’t pull away. Your touch was… nice. Gentle… a lot less scary than Gideon’s.
Grace could only nod dumbly, nervously smoothing out the soft bottoms you’d given her. “R.. right. Thank you—“
You smiled warmly, padding to the door. “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”
The petname gave her a bit of a thrill. She looked away, her cheeks pink. Grace nodded and sat on the bed, watching as you left.
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