WHY MUST I SCROLL THROUGH BUCKY BARNES X READER FICS ON THE SAM WILSON X READER TAG??? I WANT TO KISS SAM WILSON AND READ ABOUT IT, I WILL GO ON THE BUCKY BARNES X READER TAG WHEN I PLEASE BUT I WANNA READ ABOUT KISSING SAM WILSON RN.
hello!! i have seen so many eddie x fem reader but never a chubby fem reader so? can u do one and plz take as much time
(can it also be smut???)
- suki
This honestly felt cathartic to write. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy 🩵
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f!receiving, body image issues
Words: 4.5k
"Ugh, it’s so cheesy.”
Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch dramatically. You scoff as you watch him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to keep most of your attention on the flickering television screen in front of you. The end of An Officer and a Gentleman plays, where Richard Gere picks up Debra Winger and carries her off bridal style.
“I think it’s romantic,” you say, lazily flicking your hand at your boyfriend’s chest.
His dark eyebrows raise up to meet his bangs as he kicks his socked feet up on the cluttered coffee table.
“Really?” he asks. “So, you’re saying you want me to just scoop you up like that and carry you?”
The snort that comes out of you isn’t intentional, but Eddie’s words force it to come out.
“Hell no,” you tell him. “You’d break your back.”
Eddie’s previously raised eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. His spine straightens and he crosses his arms across his chest, offense leaking into his posture.
“What do you mean?”
Surely, he must be joking, you think. But the way his gaze is focused on you makes you realize he’s serious.
“Eddie.” You brandish your hand towards your larger body before gesturing to his own svelte frame.
Unsure how to feel about your insinuation, Eddie shifts in his seat to face you better. He eyes your body, something that always makes you feel a little self-conscious even if it’s in an admiring fashion.
“You think I can’t carry you?” he asks.
“Not without blowing out your back.”
That has Eddie pushing himself up off the couch and rubbing his hands together. He nods to you as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“Let me try,” he says.
“No.” You don’t move an inch.
Eddie’s shoulders slump, reminding you of a deflating beach ball as he begins to pout.
“Babe,” he whines. “Come on.”
“No, Eddie,” you reply, tone more definitive this time. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” He waves off your concern as if it’s the last thing on his mind. But you’re aware that it’s very real and know it would only make you feel more uncomfortable in your own skin if your weight hurt your boyfriend.
“Just drop it,” you try.
As persistent and stubborn as Eddie is about something once it’s entered his mind, he can see your demeanor changing bit by bit, moving closer to upset. It doesn’t mean he’s going to let it go entirely, though. He’ll let you think he’s forgotten about it for now, just continuing on with the nice evening you’re having. But there’s already an idea turning the gears in the back of Eddie’s mind.
The next week, you waltz into the Munson’s trailer–having learned long ago that you can just let yourself in–and your brow furrows as you slip off your shoes. Eddie is standing between the couch and the television, doing arm curls with a pair of smaller but heavy-looking weights. Not once have you seen Eddie lifting weights before, so you’re confused, unsure of what’s going on.
Eddie’s eyes glance over to you, away from the rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the television and gives you a smile.
“Hey, baby,” he says as naturally as always. “Be done in a minute.”
You finally find your voice as you track his arms moving up and down. “What’re you doing?”
“Knitting a sweater,” he answers without missing a beat.
“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes even though he isn’t looking your way and plop down on the couch behind him.
Eddie lets out a small, breathy laugh and turns his head to the side so you know he’s talking to you.
“What’s it look like? I’m lifting weights.”
“But why?” you ask, tucking your legs up beneath you.
When Eddie turns face forward again, you catch a glimpse of his smirk in the reflection on the TV.
“So you’ll have no more excuses about why I shouldn’t pick you up,” he says.
Letting out a dramatic groan to rival one of Eddie’s own, you flop down on your side and bury your face into one of the couch cushions. Irritated, you pick your head up and glare at the back of your boyfriend’s head.
“This again?” you ask.
“I’m gonna sweep you off your feet,” he says as he begins his last set. “Wait and see.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dustin whines, leaning back in his seat. He swipes at one of the D20s on the table out of frustration. “Where the hell is he? Eddie’s never been late for a campaign in his life.”
“Are you sure your boyfriend didn’t mention anything about being late?” Mike snaps at you from the opposite side of the table.
“For the third time, Michael,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “no.”
Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but the drama room door bangs open to reveal their Dungeon Master, his soaking wet hair turning the white portion of the Hellfire shirt see-through. There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in his appearance. Leave it to Dustin to break the seal.
“Where the hell were you?”
“Is it raining out?” Lucas asks no one in particular, eyes trailing Eddie’s weighed-down curls.
He doesn’t receive a response as Eddie saunters into the room, acting as if he didn’t just break one of his own most important rules. Your boyfriend throws a wink your way and presses a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you to get to his throne. Once he’s plopped down in the seat and made himself comfortable, he takes in all the eyes staring at him from around the table.
“I was in the gym. Weight room, more specifically,” Eddie says, as if they should have known this all along.
“Like…where the athletes train?” Gareth asks, nose wrinkling up in confusion. You can taste Eddie’s snarky reply in the air before he even parts his lips.
“Congratulations on knowing what the weight room is, Gareth the Great.”
When Eddie’s eyes don’t meet yours, you wonder if he’s avoiding your gaze or not. He has to know that the fact that he was lifting weights again would grate on your nerves. Either he’s oblivious–which is entirely possible–or he’s being smart and not meeting your glare. Eddie is quiet for a moment, which is so unlike him that you’re wondering if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. If that’s what he wants he’ll be sorely disappointed though because you’re biting your tongue for now. Even though he’ll definitely hear about it later when there are no witnesses around.
“All right,” Eddie finally says, clapping his ringed hands together. “Shall we get started?”
Whenever you want to vent about Eddie or something he did, you never have a shortage of friends to go to. Most are glad to lend an ear and a few even look forward to hearing what crazy thing he did this time. But when it comes to how you’re currently feeling in regards to your boyfriend, none of your friends could truly understand because they’re all, well…thin. They might be sympathetic to your situation or even relate in some different way, but none of them would wholly understand because they’ve never been viewed in the same light that you are by society. It’s not their fault they don’t understand, it’s just how it is.
Unfortunately, you’re not as good at keeping your emotions hidden as you thought you were. It’s only a few days before Nancy corners you at your locker.
“Are you okay?” she asks, narrowing her usually wide eyes at you.
“Fine,” you say with as much forced enthusiasm as possible while you dig around the locker for your biology textbook.
“For argument's sake, let’s say I believe you,” Nancy says. “Why have you been so quiet lately, then? You seem distracted, like your mind is somewhere else.”
“It’s stupid,” you say to her as you find the book you were searching for.
“Hey,” Nancy says, voice taking on a more serious tone, “no it’s not. Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”
You’ve known Nancy long enough to know she’s truly trying to help you and is determined to find out what’s wrong. You also know that if you tell her that you’re not ready to talk about it, she’ll drop it and respect your wishes. But you have been itching to talk to someone about everything that’s been going on, and the opportunity presented itself to you on a silver platter.
“After school?” you ask softly.
Nancy nods. “I’m putting the finishing touches on a story for the paper. I’ll be in there alone.”
When the bell rings signaling the end of school you find her right where she said she’d be. Bent over a few papers, shuffling them back and forth and inspecting them with a small furrow to her brow. As soon as she sees you, though, she moves her work to the side and gives you her undivided attention.
“What’s up?” she asks.
Trying to buy every second you have before you open your mouth and start to explain your predicament, you make yourself comfortable on the stool across from your friend and situate your bag between your feet on the floor. There’s no more stalling, you realize, as you continue to shift in your seat though. Deep down you know Nancy will be sympathetic and would never intentionally steer you wrong, it’s just the fact that she won’t get it that’s keeping you from spilling your guts.
“I’m not interviewing you, you know,” Nancy says, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. “You can start whenever.”
“Eddie keeps saying he wants to lift me up.”
The admission just tumbles from your mouth, no preamble, no build-up, just straight to the problem that’s been lying heavy on your heart.
“Okay…” Nancy drags out the word and she leans in towards you. Clearly, she was expecting more to the story than this.
“And I told him that he’ll hurt himself and now he’s working out and lifting all these weights to prove that he’s strong enough for it.” For someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to talk about this to begin with, you’re now word vomiting everywhere. Between the speed of your words and the way they seem to come out before being processed in your mind, you’re strangely reminded of how it is to talk with Robin when she’s flustered over something. The thought has you biting back a smile; maybe now you’d give Robin less grief about talking so fast.
“Why don’t you just let him try then?” Nancy asks.
An internal scream sounds in your head at her question. Of course she doesn’t understand what the big deal is. It’s not her fault, but you also know there are no words you could use to explain it to her to convey how you feel deep down about it. It’s something you either know from experience or not.
“You’ve seen the two of us together,” you finally respond, voice measured and quiet. “He’s so slender and has some lean muscle, but not enough to lift my fat ass.”
It’s obvious from the way Nancy does her cute little pout that she doesn’t like your comment.
“You are–”
Here it comes, you think. She’s going to say how pretty I am, even though I didn’t say I was ugly–just fat.
“–stressing yourself out by thinking about this too much. Let Eddie lift his weights. If you still don’t want him to pick you up, tell him. You know he respects your boundaries.”
It’s not what you expected her to say at all, and you admonish yourself for thinking Nancy would be anything less than logical about this. And her logic is sound. You know she’s right, but the emotional part of your brain still isn’t completely satisfied.
On your way out of the school after talking with Nancy, you pass the weight room and hear someone inside. You peek in the small window cut into the door and spot your boyfriend’s mass of messy curls. He has a barbell over his hips, thrusting them up and down. The sight alone has your knees feeling weak. The motion of Eddie’s hips has you hypnotized for a few moments before you decide to go in.
Eddie isn’t facing the door and he’s wearing headphones, so he doesn’t hear you as you slip in and close the door behind you. Now you can hear the soft grunts that leave his lips with every thrust, and it has you biting down on your lower lip. When you take a step closer, you can hear the music Eddie’s listening to, the song pounding out past the headphones. Even though Eddie doesn’t know you’re there it’s almost as if he’s trying to seduce you. The hips, the grunts, now he’s listening to Burnin’ Up by Judas Priest? That’s the most often played song while the two of you are having sex.
Deciding it’s fine if you’re perving a bit on your own boyfriend, you watch him while he does a few more reps. As he begins to slow down and finish up, you move to take a seat on the piece of equipment next to him. Eddie grins when he notices you sitting there and tugs the headphones down so they’re hanging around his neck.
“Hey, baby,” he says. “I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty.”
“It’s sexy.”
Eddie laughs at the blunt way you say it.
“Really?” he asks.
You nod your head and Eddie takes it as an invitation to come over and sit next to you. He wraps you up in his sweaty arms, teasingly wiping his forehead against the shoulder of your shirt. It makes you laugh and you wrap your arms around his damp middle. The black material of his Ozzy shirt is sticking to his skin–and now yours too.
“Gonna go take a shower,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll go get some food, yeah?”
“Sounds perfect.”
The next week you’re over at Eddie’s house, on your back with Eddie on top of you as you make out. There’s a long-forgotten shitty horror movie playing in the background, but the cheesy, shrill screams of the victims don’t even register to either of you.
Rough calloused hands slide down your shirt, moving from your breasts to the hem of your tee, where it’s riding up. Eddie’s skin on yours has you arching your back as his hands travel upwards again. It’s clear that he wants your shirt off and who are you to deny him?
“Bedroom,” you mumble as you break apart just long enough for you to yank your shirt off. Eddie takes advantage of your quick preoccupation with your clothing to scoop you up in his arms, bridal style. “Eddie!” you squeak.
He just chuckles and squeezes you tighter against his body.
“Maybe now you’ll let me throw you around when I have to punish you for being a bad girl,” he says, a cocky smirk quirking his kiss-bruised lips.
“A-Are you okay?” you ask, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “You won’t offend me if you have to put me down.” You’re very aware of his lithe body and how it’s supporting your larger one. This has to be hurting him–right?
“Babe.” Eddie chuckles again and shakes his head. “I’ve been lifting weights that weigh at least double what you do. It feels like I’m holding a feather right now.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you try to determine if he’s lying or not. But the way he holds steady, not seeming to strain or struggle with you in his arms calms your worries. Eddie heads down the hall and carries you into his room and tosses you down on his bed. You land with a bounce and a giggle as he climbs up on top of you.
His lips attach to your neck as his fingers reach down and fiddle with the button of your jeans. Once it’s popped open and he drags the zipper down, Eddie starts to kiss his way down your body, making sure to press his lips against every part of you that he can. Your chest, your tummy, your hips. When he gets to your jeans, Eddie slides himself off the bed to kneel before you. He makes quick work of getting your pants off and lets out a sinful groan when he sees the wet patch forming on your pale green cotton panties. It encourages Eddie to move even faster as he yanks your underwear off so quickly that you blink and you miss it.
Eddie dives right in, wasting no time to run his long, talented tongue through your folds. You grip the off-white sheets below you in your fists at his ministrations. The laugh that rumbles through Eddie at your drawn-out groan sends vibrations up your body, only adding to the pleasure. Strong hands wrap around your thighs and pull you even further down the bed so Eddie can get better access to your pussy. His tongue repeatedly flicks over your clit and your eyes practically roll back in your head. Your boyfriend knows exactly how to work you up and bring you to the brink of–
“Hey,” you pout when Eddie pulls back and sits on his heels. “Fuck, Eddie, I was close.”
“I know, angel.” His words are soft and kind despite the mischievous glint in his eye. “But there’s something I need you to do first.”
“What?”
Eddie climbs on the bed and crawls up towards his pillows. He plops flat on his back as he says, “Sit on my face.”
“Eddie,” you say with a breathless laugh. “I’ll crush you.”
“Then I go out doing what I love,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I always told you that you’d be the death of me.” Eddie looks over you with those brown doe eyes and you feel the resolve melting away in your chest. “But seriously, please come here. I already miss how you taste.”
Lifting you was one thing, but this seems like something he couldn’t prepare for by going to the gym. The sincere, pleading look in his eyes tells you that he really wants this, though.
“Are you sure?” you double-check.
“God, yes, please.”
Hesitantly, you shuffle up closer to him and lift yourself up to straddle his face. Bracing your hands on Eddie’s headboard, you still can’t bring yourself to lower your body. Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something to Eddie, your boyfriend wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you flush down against his mouth.
“Fuck,” you groan. You can practically feel Eddie grinning against your dripping pussy as he gets back to work. After a few moments of making sure Eddie isn’t suffocating below you, you start to relax into it and are able to enjoy the sensations of his tongue leisurely licking up and down your heat. A particularly hard lick to your hole has you letting out a gasp and clutching onto the wooden bedframe hard enough to snap it in half.
“Shit, Eddie. A-Almost there.”
He hums in acknowledgment, even though you didn’t need to tell him. Your body was something Eddie was a quick study in; it didn’t take him long to learn all the little quirks and tells your body gives him when you’re getting close to orgasm.
“Fuck,” you moan between pants as your breaths become shallower. Sweat slicks your skin as you hurdle towards your peak, body a live wire as Eddie works your body just as flawlessly as he does his guitar. “I-I’m coming, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming.”
Eddie tightens his grip on your thighs as your hips rock against his face. His nose brushes against your clit and it shoots a spark through your body, only heightening your pleasure.
As the high wears off, you feel boneless and collapse down on the bed next to Eddie. He huffs a breath of laughter and raises himself up on an elbow to watch you recover. Satisfied smirk on his face, Eddie wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. He only gives you a moment longer to catch your breath before he gives you a smack on the ass.
“Hands and knees, baby,” he says.
Energy not fully recuperated yet, you give him a nod but otherwise don’t move. Eddie’s not having that, though. A strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. As you settle onto your hands and knees like you were told, you peek over your shoulder to see a cocky smirk adorning your boyfriend’s face. He ghosts a feather-light hand up your spine as he leans in to murmur in your ear.
“Told you I’d manhandle you if I needed to.”
There’s hardly enough time for your brain to process his words before he’s yanking your hips backward towards him. The sudden motion has your arms giving out and you drop face-first into his pillow, filling your senses with the citrus-scented shampoo he uses. The husky chuckle that comes from above you lets you know that this is the exact position he wanted you in any way. You let your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the sensation of him dragging his cock up and down your soaked folds. It’s meant to be teasing you–and it is–but you’d be lying if you said the motions didn’t feel amazing.
Eventually, Eddie can’t take his own teasing anymore–he’s so damn hard in his hand now. He lets his cock drag against your clit one last time before he pushes himself into you. A moan gets muffled into Eddie’s pillow as your fingers involuntarily claw at his sheets. If you were facing him, you know you’d see him smirking. The bed begins to squeak as Eddie moves his hips, his own groans tumbling out as he slides further into you with each thrust until he’s finally bottoming out.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans, head falling forward. His hands grip the soft plush skin of your hips hard enough to leave fingerprint-sized marks. You turn your head to keep from suffocating against the pillow, but you know you’d willingly starve yourself of oxygen if it meant Eddie would keep pounding into you like this. “Shit, baby. I’ll never get over how tight you are. God damn, I love your body so fucking much.”
The only response you can manage is a groan, thoughts fleeing from your head with every snap of his hips against yours. His pace begins to pick up and you know he’s getting closer to the edge. But suddenly he pulls completely out of you, leaving you achingly empty. The loss makes you whine as you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend. Words still haven’t come back into your brain yet, so you just questioningly grunt at him, which makes him laugh.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. Your eyes track him as he shuffles up the bed until he’s sitting with his back against his headboard. He pats his thigh and winks at you. “Get over here.”
He doesn’t need to ask you twice. Throwing your left leg over his lap, you whimper as you lower yourself slowly onto his angry and leaking cock. The moment you’ve seated yourself on him, he thrusts his hips up into you, causing you to gasp and clutch onto his pale, freckled shoulders to steady yourself.
“Fuck!” you cry. “Yes, Eddie!”
The smirk that graces Eddie’s beautiful features is so self-satisfied. Normally, you’d come up with a witty quip or bratty action to wipe that look off his face, but the pleasure coursing through your veins leaves you incapable of coherent thought.
Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and starts bucking his hips wildly up into yours.
“Shit,” you all but scream as you drop your forehead down to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “God, Eddie.”
“Think my lifting paid off now, baby?” Eddie asks, smugness dripping in his tone. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your collarbone as you nod and bury your face into his neck.
“Yes,” you mumble against his skin before pulling back so he can understand you. “Yes, shit, your hips are magical.”
A chuckle rumbles through Eddie’s body and he tightens his grip around your waist, holding your body flush up against his. As you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, your fingernails dig into the delicate skin on Eddie’s back.
“You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” Eddie says. When you don’t acknowledge his statement, he tugs on your hair and forces you to look him in the eye. “Jesus Christ, I love your curves. Every single inch of your body. It’s fucking mine. So perfect, holy shit. How’d I get so lucky?”
“All yours,” you confirm, nodding as much as you can with his hand in your hair. “My body is all yours. Every curve, every i-inch. Fuck, I’m close, Eddie.”
“Me too, sweetheart,” Eddie says between labored breaths. “Come with me.”
“O-Okay,” you stutter out in a whisper.
Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure washes over you as you cling to your boyfriend. The way your walls clench around Eddie’s cock has him coming immediately after you, his hair tickling the skin of your cheek as he drops his head forward to rest against your body.
“Baby, yes,” Eddie moans as he spills inside of you, hips rutting against yours as he fucks his spend into you.
When he’s finished, Eddie lifts his head up before dropping it back against his headboard. A satisfied smile is on his lips as he looks at you, rosy cheeks and coated in a sheen of sweat as he tries to catch his breath. Your body collapses against his, breathing just as heavily, and Eddie wastes no time in wrapping both of his arms around you. It’s quiet as the two of you bask in the feelings, both physical and emotional. Eventually, Eddie turns his head and presses a kiss into your hair.
“I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too, handsome.”
“So,” he starts, dotting soft kisses down the length of your neck, “you gonna let me pick you up now?”
It’s not something you even need to think about. “You can do whatever you want if you fuck me like that again.”
The laugh that Eddie lets out has you smiling against his skin. He brings his hand up and lightly trails his fingers up and down your spine.
“Glad to hear that,” he says. “I think next I want to try lifting you over my shoulder. You know, like firemen do. How’s that sound?”
The question makes you lift your head up to look your boyfriend in the eye.
I was questioning whether I should talk about my shifting journey on here or not but I decided fuck it I will. So if you're into shifting and want to be mutuals I'm absolutely down. If you have any tips and advice I will gladly take it ☺️
One thing golden era Wattpad writers had going for them was that they knew the importance of a buildup. I'm of the opinion that the sexual tension is WAY more satisfying to read than the actual sex and quite frankly there is a serious lack of non smutty writing.
Like I really miss reading fics/ x readers that start from scratch. Meeting the characters, initial reactions getting to know them, the tension the jealousy the TENSION the freaking tension.
Looking and looking away when they get spotted, touches that feel like they linger but perhaps they didn't and they're both so hot for each other that they think it's wishful thinking. And I don't mean just sweet sunshine romances, darker works can have a buildup too but it seems like so much is just about getting to the smut instead of the psychological aspect.
As I'm heading into my early adult years, more and more I'm starting to love physical media. Like why is Spotify so expensive (I'm broke ok? piss yourself) like I pay for Netflix, Hulu and HBO Max and there's ads when there wasn't any before😤
(also I only bought HBO bcs of HoTD, Metalocalypse,Steven Universe and Over the Garden Wall)
I hate when Tv shows dilute evil bitch characters ESPECIALLY if it's a book adaptation. Making her considerate and lovable when that's the absolute last thing she is pisses me off. You miss out on such good villains when you try to make them reasonable for the audience BOOOOOOOOOOOOO 🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱
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