in which simon âghostâ riley canât keep his hands off his adorable new neighbor who sees herself as so much less than she is <3
summary! when ghost returns from deployment, he notices the house next to him has been moved into by the most gorgeous woman heâs ever seen. too bad she doesnât realize it and heâs about sick and tired of hearing her talk down on herself.
warnings! 18+ MDNI. simon ghost riley x chubby fem reader! p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, babies are expensive), whole lotta praise, dumbification (if you squint), reader looks down on herself a lot, body image issues, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, body worship, marking, biting, spanking, cum play, creampie, ghost has a slight obsession with tits, slight impact play, overstimulation, dacryphilia, age gap (20 years) ghost is 46 and reader is 26, reader is referred to and refers to herself as a âpigâ, porn w plot
authors note! thought iâd write a chubby reader oneshot-ish thing because iâm a bigger girl and absolutely love accurate representations of my body type!! also thank you for reading, itâs nice to know people enjoy my silly little ideas! iâm so so proud of this post and i hope you guys enjoy <3
there was nothing ghost was more excited for than to be in his own bed after six rough months of deployment. he loved his job, he did, but there was nothing better than being able to sleep in his own bed with the ac blasting as opposed to sleeping in a sand bed in the desert because god forbid he took two extra minutes to take a piss and all the beds were taken. he couldnât wait to shower by himself, to be able to walk around in his boxers without having to worry about a centipede or something crawl up his dick hole, to be in solitude. just the way he liked it. he was a simple man and enjoyed smile things, like smoking a cigarette on his porch in the dead of the night when the only thing he could hear were the crickets, or reading books while drinking vodka on his couch, or being able to get his dick wet.
when he pulled into the driveway, he could sense something was off with his quiet neighborhood. it was six in the morning and he could hear soft music buzzing from one of the houses, even while sat in his car. when he got out, he noticed the sleek black car in the driveway of the house next to him, which was new. the house had been empty for years. not because it was ugly or anything, but because it was a small neighborhood and most people preferred the louder, busier cities. his town was quiet, and with a population of only 1,000 people, it was rare anyone left or anyone new entered. though ghost wasnât around much, he had interacted with a few of the other people in the town and they were relatively kind. kids smiled at him, women did little to hide their attraction to him, the usual. the houses were rather small, just simple one stories with one-door garages and intersecting/overlaid hip roofs that covered the garages. Small couples with one to two children were usually the ones who entered the town and didnât share the secret of the silent town with anyone, which he didnât mind in the slightest. like he said, he loved solitude.
he chose to mind his business, shutting his car door and grabbing the pack of cigarettes that sat in his pockets before standing on his porch and lighting in, looking out at the grassy field in front of him, looking at the blossoming dandelions. ghost despised mostly everything about summer, the beating sun, the bugs, but he hated the heat most. it didnât matter what he wore, he just always seemed to be hot. it was six am and yet, it was at least seventy degrees, the only thing keeping him from going inside being the thick storm clouds that were hiding the sun from view, but it didnât do much for the humidity. ghost could feel himself sweating under his military uniform he hadnât yet taken off, but he so badly wanted to finish his cigarette, so he stayed outside.
and thatâs when he saw you.
when he heard your front door open, he initially ignored it, not wanting to stare or come off as odd to the new neighbor whoâd probably thought no one lived in his house due to his car never being there and the house being dark at all times of day. but when he caught a glimpse of pink, he just had to look.
and god, were you a sight for sore eyes.
he watched you intently as you stepped out of your doorway and trotted down the stairs of your porch, humming whatever song to yourself as you walked to your mailbox. his eyes widened as he saw the crimson tint on your chubby and well rounded cheeks, your button nose also being a soft pink. your hair was up and out of your face, revealing more of your delicate and almost angelic features while a pair of black framed glasses sat perfectly on your nose, only helping to accentuate your innocent, doe eyes. you were beautiful, gorgeous, every fucking compliment in the book. you looked young, at least in your early twenties, which almost made ghost feel bad for gawking at you like this. almost.
he didnât miss the way you were dressed in an oversized an oversized soft pink hoodie that enveloped you, the cuffs of your sleeves down to your cuticles and revealing your fingers that were decorated with white acrylics. the white sweatpants you wore were also rather baggy, which kinda made him upset. call him a perv, but he wanted to see your body. your clothes didnât give him the slightest idea of your body type and he wanted to pout at the fact, he refrained as you grabbed your mail pieces and slowly walked to your door while reading them before you looked up.
you noticed the car in the driveway of the house you couldâve sworn wasnât lived in. sure, parcels and mail were still delivered there, but youâd just assumed that theyâd moved out and their information hadnât been changed in the system. youâd moved into the quaint and quiet town about three months ago, wanting to get away from the big city for one single reason. not because you hated it, no, in fact, you loved it. you loved the hustle and bustle of honking horns, the busy and filled streets, the people absolutely everywhere at all times. you were a social person, although it didnât seem that way at first glance, you were. you enjoyed going out, hanging out with friends, and talking. you could talk and talk for hours about absolutely anything when you were comfortable enough, which was pretty much the only thing you liked about yourself. you were easy to talk to and people loved that. what they didnât love, was your body.
youâd been a bigger girl since you were a child and growing up in new york didnât help that at all. you were picked on for the simplest things. your wore short sleeves but a full shirt? âew, why are your arms so fat?â. you wore long sleeves and a full shirt? âew, i can see your rolls.â you wore a baggy shirt? âhiding your body, you pig?â but kids were mean, so you tried your best to not care. you thought when you got older and entered the big world, people wouldnât care anymore.
god forbid you wanted to wear a dress to a club with your thinner friends. you watched as males flocked to them like hungry birds and you were left to watch. you watched as men and women looked at you and laughed, their eyes saying the harsh words they normally didnât say, their sneers filling your head with every negative thought you could possibly have in the moment. god forbid you wanted to go to a cafe by yourself. the constant âshe doesnât need that sandwichâ or âshe should be at the gymâ always managed to ruin your appetite and youâd always leave before even getting to eat your food.
what caused your move was a double blind date your friend dragged you to. you had already started hiding in your house at that point, not wanting to deal with the harsh words people who didnât even know you had to say, but despite that, you put your friend first and went. her date was thrilled, but yours? not so much. upon seeing you, his first words to his friend were âwhy do i always get the fat ones?â
you turned on your heel and left your friend on her dats, returning home and sobbing hysterically as you packed whatever you could fit into your car and left, not bothering to inform anyone. you had no destination, no idea where to go, but you didnât care. you wanted to get as far away from the city as you could.
luckily, you managed to buy the house you had now and ever since then, it was rare you left the house and when you did, you didnât dare wear anything that gave people the smallest glimpse of the body you despised. you hated the way your thighs would rub together when you walked, the way your arms would jiggle when youâd raise them, but what you hated most was your stomach. you hated the way it never failed to protrude through any shirt you wore, the way you could feel it folding into rolls whenever you sat down, the way it would cover your cunt and ruin any attempt you made at masturbating because it was always in your way. you despised the fat on your body and how it seemed to define who you were. you didnât even want to try to meet new people because your body would always be your problem. it would always deter them. it didnât matter how kind, how thoughtful, how respectful you were, it would always bother everyone.
the house next door that you thought was empty gave you some kind of peace, making you comfortable enough to sometimes wear shorts or tank tops when you got your mail or allow you to on your porch with a salad as you watched the sunset. but now that you knew it wasnât, you could almost pout at the thought of not being able to do that anymore. and it didnât help that the man who lived there was attractive. too attractive for you. he was tallâreally tall with muscles you could see through his military uniform and eyes so deep and pretty you wanted to get lost in them, but knew better than that. a man who looked that good couldnât ever and wouldnât ever be attracted to you. he looked older, but that didnât deter your attraction that youâd never, ever voice aloud.
you didnât want to be rude, so you gave an awkward smile. âhi.â
god, your voice was so sweet, almost honey-like, and it didnât help that you were blushing. well, it couldâve been because it was humid and you were dressed in thick hoodie and sweatpants, but simon wanted to believe it was because of him, so thatâs what he would do.
âhi.â he replied back. âwhenâd you get here?â
you didnât miss his british accent, his deep voice sending chills down your spine as you turned to him. âi could ask you the same thing.â
âbeen livinâ here for ten years, dollface.â he chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at you. âhow âbout you?â
âthree months. never seen you before.â
âbeen on deployment, love.â
you donât miss the pet names he calls you and you donât really know why. you didnt mind love because the man was obviously british and that was a common thing, but dollface confused you. itâs a pet name you havenât heard before, probably because no man was ever attracted to you, so you chalked it up to him just being nice.
âreally, where?â your curiosity gets the best of you.
âthe desert. if you think itâs hot here, the sand there would feel like fire.â his chuckle sends a deep shiver down your spine as you laugh with him before he licks his lips and looks you up and down, and though his expression is unreadable, it still makes you aware of the pudgy body youâre hiding beneath, and so does his next comment. âspeaking of the heat, whatâs up with your clothes? âs likeââ he pulls out his phone. âeighty degrees.â
he doesnât miss the way you blush in embarrassment and seem to subconsciously cover your abdomen with your hands, âmy house is freezing. my ac is always on blast.â
though he feels like thereâs more to it, he takes the answer. âi get it. the heatâs a cunt.â
you smile at him before looking down at your mail. âi should head in. nice to see someone lives here.â itâs nice, really, you just wished he had come back at a later time, when you managed to stop pushing off the gym and managed to lose more weight.
ânice meetinâ you, love.â he hums as you head inside and close the door, your pink curtains hiding you from view as ghost drapes his head and thanks god you hadnât noticed his growing cock. everything about you seemed so.. sweet. your syrupy, honey laced voice, your crimson cheeks that resembled tomatoes when heâd asked you about your clothes, the way your doe eyes would squint as you smiled. the sound of your laugh echoed in his mind and he made it his mission to hear it to more, to talk to you more, to be more.
ghost was coming back from the grocery store a few days later, having run out for a frozen pizza, some cigarettes, and a smoothie because the older man had the largest sweet tooth. he entered his house and set the pizza in the oven before heading out to his porch to light a cigarette before seeing a soft pink light radiating from your porch. then he saw you, sat in a porch swing in a large crewneck and pajama pants that once again, hid your body from view. you were just looking at the setting sun while eating a salad that looked absolutely fucking disgusting to him. donât get him wrong, he didnât mind salads, but you were practically eating grass. it was a mess of shaved carrots, corn, lettuce, and kale with ranch on top. there was absolutely no way that was satisfying to you and he could see the way you picked at it as if you didnât really want it. when you noticed him looking at you, your heart dropped upon seeing his stare. he looked as if he was going to say one of the many, many, self deprecating phrases youâd grown used to hearing, whether it be that you needed that salad or that it was good a pig like you was laying off the calories. you were unmoving as you watched his lips curl into a smile, preparing yourself for the worst.
you went from being scared to confused before remembering the led lightbulb you had bought and smiled. âyeah.â you nod. you were.. surprised he hadnât made a comment, most men did. but just because he didnât, it didnât mean your guard was down. you set your salad aside, not wanting to eat until he went inside.
âitâs cute, love. fits you nice.â he hums. âis it your favorite color?â
âoh my godâyes.â you laugh, not being able to keep yourself from yapping. âlove everything to do with it. itâs just so pretty and people say itâs basicâbut, like, can you blame me?â as soon as the sentence fell from your lips, you felt stupid. itâs not like he cared or was interested.
but yet again, he surprised you.
ânot at all. âs a cute color, no matter how basic.â he responds. âlet me guess, you got about twenty pink plushies?â
you laugh, âactually itâs forty six.â you like that heâs not shaming you and for a second, you can feel your walls begin to crumble before you build them back up.
âyou consider that a lot or a little?â ghostâs question is phrased that way on purpose, trying to figure out what you thought was too old through your amount of stuffed animals. he was forty six and heâd be lying if he said he wouldnât be disappointed if you said you thought forty six was a lot.
âa little. i have forty six that are pink and thirty-two that are other colors.â you chuckled, the sweet sound going right to ghostâs dick.
âthatâs funny, iâm forty six.â he wants to laugh, but heâs too busy watching your reaction. wanting to see if you recoiled in disgust or gave him an odd look, but you didnât. instead, you smiled. âwhatâs it like being old?â you teased.
âhey,â he feigns hurt as he leans over the banister to look at you. â âm not old.â
âoh, youâre totally old!â you snicker.
âhow old are you then?â ghost canât bite back his smile as he watches you place your hands into your lap, your face almost glistening in the warm glow of the setting sun and the pale light coming from the rising moon. âtwenty six.â
âmaybe i am old.â he shakes his head and doesnât miss the way you laugh. youâre so sweet, so perfect, so⊠pure.
he looks over at your salad then back at you. âlove, can i say something?â
your heat quickens again and you once again prepare for the worst.
âyour salad. it looks like absolute shit. why not get a pizza or somethinâ?â was he silently hoping youâd agree so he could âconvenientlyâ say he had one on the oven right now and invite you in? absolutely.
meanwhile, the comment once again left you confused. you didnât really understand it. you were used to people telling you to eat better, not.. worse. they often told you that you needed salads, not pizza. you didnât really know how to respond and you couldnât stop the soft âwhat?â that slipped past your lips.
âi said, why donât you get a pizza or somethinâ? veggies are good or whatever, but, câmom, kale?â he repeats.
âare you serious?â you mumble, your expression unreadable. you werenât mad, you were just..confused. you didnât understand what he was saying or why he wasnât acting like everyone else. his words, his kind words almost made you uncomfortable because they werenât what you were used to.
ghostâs face dropped. âshit, âm sorry, love. it doesnât matter what you eatâi meanâif you want a salad, thatâs okayâi was just saying thatââ he cuts himself off, feeling rather stupid for even opening your mouth or commenting on your eating habits. he was a confident man, almost egotistical, but the sight of your face made his heart drop and his lips curl into a frown. he hadnât meant to hurt you.
ânoâno, itâs okay.â you say all too quickly, not liking the way a frown looked on his face. âitâs justââ you trail off, debating on whether you should open up to the man. he hadnât said anything but that didnât mean he was like the others, but at the same time, it would be nice to finally get it out.
however, you couldnât bring yourself to tear down your walls, so you shook your head and put on your best smile. âitâs nothing. you didnât upset me.â you confirm, and although ghost doesnât believe you, he doesnât question it when you stand up and grab your salad. âiâm gonna head in. have a nice night..â you tail off, not having gotten his name yet.
âsimon.â he speaks. âand you too..â he trails off and you smile before giving him your name and heading inside.
the next morning, you find a large bouquet of different colored tulips along with a strawberry smoothie and a box of chocolate chip cookies. you look down at your them before seeing the note tucked into the bouquet.
âiâm sorry for commenting on your salad, love. i didnât mean to make you uncomfortable or upset you. i hope this doesnât make things weird between us and i hope youâre okay with strawberries and chocolate chip cookies. - simon.â
the smile that creeps up on your face is one thatâs uncontrollable. your body heats up and itâs not because youâre wearing a baggy long sleeve and sweatpants in 80 degree weather. the gesture was kind. the kindest thing anyone had ever done for you and even said to you. though he hadnât made you uncomfortable, his fear of doing so was.. nice. it had been years since someone was so afraid to upset you. people normally didnât care how you felt and it showed in their cruel comments on your body. you picked up the bouquet and set them into a soft pink vase before looking at the smoothie and cookies. the guilt that came with eating was one that crippled you, terrified you, but as you sipped on the sugary drink and bit into the soft cookie, you allowed yourself to smile a bit.
when you had your fill, you stepped outside and approached his porch, your hand hesitantly going to knock on the door until it opened to reveal ghost in a black compression shirt with grey sweatpants. the shirt hugged his muscles tightly, showing off his large biceps and his toned abdomen that you were incredibly jealous of. His hair was messy and almost covered his eyes that widened when he saw you. âhey.â he hummed.
you opened your mouth to speak, but it was as if your brain had short circuited. you felt the pulse in your sweatpants as you cleared your throat. âhey.â
ghost didnât miss the way you blushed and moistened your lips with your pink tongue. âthanks for the flowers and stuff.â your voice sounds like a whisper as you grumble under the manâs gaze, feeling small and not only because you were, but because no matter how badly you wanted him, you knew it wouldnât happen because of your weight.
âno need to thank me, love. âm sorry for what i said about your salad.â he sighs.
âsimon, really, itâs not your fault. itâs me.â you speak out, deciding that you wonât let him feel bad for your issues when he hasnât done anything. he quirks an eyebrow that silently asks you to elaborate, and so you do.
you sigh before speaking. âlook, i donât have the best relationship with my body. people have said mean things and iâi dunno. what you said was probably the nicest thing anyoneâs ever said to me.â
âme telling you to eat a pizza rather than a salad is the nicest thing anyoneâs ever said to you?â he blinks in disbelief before shaking his head. âno. thatâs just not true.â
you chuckle a little as he stares down at you. âthere is just no way thatâs the nicest thing anyoneâs ever said of you.â
âi know, i know. itâs funny.â
âfunny?!â he gasps. âlove, that is sad. not funny.â
youâre now confused. youâre so used to the negative comments that though they hurt you, you didnât really see them as negative anymore. âwhatââ but he doesnât let you speak.
âno oneâs ever told you how beautiful you are? how pretty? howââ
you cut him off, once again becoming aware of the pudgy stomach hiding beneath your oversized shirt. âno.â you say all too quickly and ghost is genuinely surprised. âthat is just wrong, dollface.â
you chuckle, the sound ringing in ghostâs ears as he bites back the urge to reach out for you. you look back towards your house and sigh. âanyways, i just wanted to say thanks. so thanks.â smiling, you turn on your heel and walk away, which makes ghost pout. he wants to talk to you more, to hear you laugh, to see you smile, but all he does is smile back at you as you step into your house and close your door.
it doesnât take long before the two of you become close. when you come home from work, heâs outside smoking a cigarette and he waits until you step back out for your normal salad-by-the-sunset dinner and you both talk. when he gets to know you, he canât help but fall deeper into his obsession with you. youâre so.. talkative. and he loves it. it doesnât matter what he brings up, youâll find a way to make it sound like the most interesting thing youâve heard in years. youâre so much more bubbly than you appear at first glance. youâre fully of smiles, laughs, giggles. he loves the way you get so passionate when talking about one of your interests, whether it be your new car decorations, tim burton movies, your love for music, he wanted to hear it all. there was nothing better than sitting outside with you for hours and talking about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time. he started to leave the curtains to his living room open, waiting for the pink porch light that signaled you were outside.
and you felt the same. of course, ghost was attractive and all, but he was so kind to you. he didnât seem to get sick of you the way others had. for the first time in a long time, you felt seen, heard, and understood. of course, you still hid your body from him, knowing that no matter how many hours you spent awake talking, how heâd always rush out to his porch when youâd turn on the porch light, how heâd constantly let pet names ranging from angel to my dear slip past his laps, your body would be the thing to drive him away.
itâs six in the morning and youâre dressed in a white tank top that emphasizes the body you hate. your stomach protrudes and your chest is heavy, the flab of your arms visible even when they arenât resting at your side. the shorts you wear do little to hide your fat thighs that have no gap between them, your flesh rubbing together as you look out of your curtains to look at the driveway to simonâs house. you knew better than to go out dressed like this when heâs home and when you donât see his car in the driveway, you let out a gentle sigh of relief. itâs reached an all time high of a hundred degrees and the want to not overheat overwhelms the need to cover yourself up. when you know heâs not home, you open your front door and head to the mailbox, humming gently as you grab the letters and subconsciously look up at simonâs house, only to see him standing there with an agape mouth.
he wasnât supposed to be home.
his car was gone, so why was he here?
you freeze under his gaze, your skin now feeling like a prison you so badly wanted to crawl out of and hide. you know heâs seen you and you canât help the tears that brims your eyes as you rush inside and shut the door without even saying hi.
simonâs awestruck, but not because heâs disgusted. far from it actually.
he saw the way your plump stomach showed through the tank top that did little to hide just how large your chest was. your thighs were full and plush, jiggling with your every step when youâd so quickly rushed inside. youâre beautiful, so fucking beautiful. heâs almost certain that heâs going to faint, his head and mind fuzzy as he recalls the way your plump curves looked in the tight clothes heâd never seen before. when youâd hid your body from him, he hadnât understood why and he still didnât. there was simply no way you could be ashamed of curves as perfect as yours. every stretch mark that lined your chest, every bit of cellulite on your thighs, every dip in your body was perfect. the thought that you could possibly be embarrassed of a body like that doesnât make any sense to him. he wasnât a picky man, but he always preferred his women with more meat on their bones, mostly because of his terrible groping habit. he loved feeling their plump flesh in his large hands and he loves it even more when despite how big his hands are, he still canât manage to grab all of it.
he wants to comfort you, but the older man simply goes inside, shuts his door, and wraps his fingers around his cock while he replays the image in his mind. he knows he should check on you because you were definitely crying when youâd run inside, but right now, all that matters to him is trying to ensure his cock wouldnât stand at attention when he did go to your door. he wants to squeeze you, to feel your soft skin beneath his fingers and the thought of watching your ass recoil as he fucks into you is what makes him cum in a shamefully quick amount of time. when heâs cleaned himself up, he knocks on your door, but you donât answer. you pretend to not hear him as you sob into your plushies, thinking youâd just ruined your friendship with the only man who was ever kind to you when in reality, he couldnât be more obsessed with you.
when he connects the dots that the only reason you felt comfortable enough to collect your mail in that attire was because you thought he wasnât home, he simply heads back inside. though he cannot wrap his head around why youâre embarrassed, he knows you are and he knows that for right now, youâre entirely too ashamed to face him. so he waits.
it takes an entire week for you to pull yourself together and grab the mail once more, the black hoodie that youâre wearing covers you entirely as well as your sweatpants in the way youâre comfortable with, but youâre still not comfortable. youâre still ashamed, and youâre still embarrassed which makes it so much worse when ghost comes out of his house and calls out to you. when he senses that youâre going to run inside, he steps off of his porch and moves to stand infront of you, the black wifebeater heâs wearing emphasizing his biceps as he looks at you. âwait.â he speaks, his voice gentle as you sigh.
âdonât.â you repeat to him. âdonâtâjust donât.â
âsimon, i know what i am, okay? been hearing it my whole life and id rather not right now. i dont want to hear how i need a salad, how im fat, how absolutely disgusting my body is. ive heard it all and i really, really dont want to hear it from you.â you breathe out, trying your best not to cry.
he looks absolutely bewildered.
âdonât be coy.â you fail at your attempt to not cry, tears slipping down your cheeks. âseriously, simon. iâm fat and i know thatâs unattractive to absolutely everyone. iâm a pig, im well aware of it and i know that itâs completely ruined thingsââ
âand iâm sorry that i didnât tell you soon enough. i know youâd never be romantically interested in meâlike, everâbut it was still wrong for me to mislead you like that.â youâre sobbing now, your lower lip trembling.
absolutely fucking fuming for more reasons than one. not only had people made you think you were less, made you think that you werenât anything short of absolutely perfect, but you thought your weight would upset him. people had gotten in your pretty little head and convinced you that you not revealing your weight to them at the start was misleading when it was truly your choice and when you made the choice to, they shamed you?
and you thought the body he so badly wanted in his arms deterred him?
he was a grown man, not a boy.
the fact that for your entire life, people had been commenting on your weight, on the love handles he wanted to grab, the stomach he wanted to mark and kiss all over, the tits he wanted to grab and suck on until you pushed him away, made him damn near murderous. you truly believed that your weight drove him away when it was what made him all the more attracted to you. you were so kind, so.. bubbly and cheery. everything about you had sucked him in from day one and the longer he heard you talk shit about yourself, the more upset he became. for the entire week you hid yourself away from him, he replayed that memory hour after hour, constantly having to jerk off to keep himself at bay. the pain that came from his constant need to touch himself at the mere thought of you turned into a pleasure that only increased his need for you.
âlove.â he says louder, stopping your tear-induced rambles. he so badly wants to tell you how heâs called out your name while touching his cock, but he knows itâs not the time or place, so instead, he places a hand on your shoulder. âyour weight doesnât scare me.â he reassures. âyouâre beautiful, dollface. that was the first thing i thought when i saw you. you are absolutely gorgeous and there is absolutely no need to hide from me.â
his reassurance only makes you sob harder. you couldnât understand why he was being so kind to you. it was so much easier to hear people say mean things about you that coming to terms with him not being at all disgusted by you almost made you lightheaded. âsimonââ
âiâm serious, angel. âm never going to judge you for your body nor do i think âs gross. youâre my friend and your weight does not and will not change that.â he speaks firmly but gently, trying to get his words to stick and he smiles when you nod and wipe your eyes. he looks at the parcel in your hands and smiles, pointing down at it. âthat the new pink cutlery you were tellinâ me about?â
and just like that, your crying stops and your stood going on and on about how the pink utensils would match perfectly with the white plates and bowls youâd ordered a few months ago. he lets you talk and talk and talk, just smiling like an absolute idiot, your voice a symphony heâd pay any amount of money to hear more of.
over the next month, you no longer hide from him. you have your late night porch talks while wearing tank tops and shorts, the salads still your choice of dinner, but your comparability with him seeing your body growing. each time you come out and he didnât comment on your body makes your heart swell and despite other girls seeing it as the bare minimum, you adored it. itâd been so long since you were so comfortable and you have ghost for thank for it. of course, your feelings for him only grow but you know better than to act on them. you know he doesnât mind your body as a friend, but you knew that if heâd ever seen you undressed, it would change his mind.
âno, no, no!â you pout at your ac thatâs finally given out. itâs early august and itâs been uncomfortably hot. your ac is what keeps you sane and now it wasnât working. âplease!â you beg the object that refuses to turn back on before flopping onto your couch as heat floods in. at first, you think you can withstand it but after twenty minutes, youâre knocking on ghostâs door.
he answers and smiles at you. âhey, loveââ
heâs surprised when you push past him upon feeling the cold flow of air coming from his air conditioner and enter his house, letting out a satisfied groan. âmy ac is busted and my new one isnât coming in until tomorrow. sorry for intruding, but iâm hot.â
âyes you are.â he mumbles under his breath as he shuts his door. itâs the first time youâve been in ghostâs house and you like how overall simplistic it is. it fits him. you sit on his couch and hum. he stares at the way your arms and collarbones are exposed in the short sleeved, off the shoulder shirt thatâs a bit baggy, covering the stomach he adores so much. he can see the stretch marks that lead down to your covered chest and he curses himself for thinking such impure thoughts about such a pure person. the white shorts youâre wearing do little to cover the stretch marks and cellulite on your thighs and he has to bite his lip to keep from moaning out at the sight.
you are so fucking beautiful.
âhungry, love?â he asks after clearing his throat.
âa salad would be nice.â
you look over at him with a raised eyebrow. âhuh?â
he chuckles and opens his fridge, grabbing two water bottles. âi know how much you like your rabbit food, but in my house, youâre eating a meal that doesnât consist of lettuce and carrots.â
âbeen watching you eat salads all summer, angel. letâs get some real food in you, yeah?â
itâs a simple gesture, another reminder that ghost doesnât care about your body and he couldnât care less about your weight and it shouldnât make your pussy throb the way it does.
you watch as he opens his fridge and grabs some fruits. âknow you like eatinâ healthy, so iâll make you a side of fruits, that okay?â
âthatâs okay.â you nod, watching him slice the tops of your strawberries before he cuts them into little hearts and cuts your pineapple into triangles. heâs so.. careful, wanting each shape to be perfect. when heâs done, he tosses the heart shaped strawberries, star shaped pineapples, and kiwi cubes into the bowl. itâs cute that he remembered how cute you think shaped foods are despite telling him about it months ago and you smile as he hands you the bowl and goes back into the kitchen to make you a bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel. itâs still early morning so itâs fitting for the time and when he hands it to you, you donât feel an ounce of guilt simply at the way it melts on your tongue. it puts your rabbit food, or salads, to absolute shame.
âno need to thank me.â he sits beside you, some distance between you two so he can keep himself at bay and not touch you the way he wants to. you look so gorgeous when youâre truly enjoying your food and if seeing the way you happily lick your lips and smile at him means heâd have to make your every meal to keep you away from salads, thatâs what he would do.
you spend a few hours just talking, like usual, before it gets late and you prepare to head back to your house, which ghost pouts at and stops you.
âwhere you goinâ?â he frowns.
âghost, iâve gotta go back home.â you chuckle. âiâve been here all day and i donât wanna intrude more than i already have.â
âyouâre not intruding.â he speaks as he stands and reaches out to hold your wrists. âyour ac isnât working and itâs 100 degrees outside, just stay the night.â
you raise an eyebrow. âyouâyou sure?â
âyeah.â he nods. âwe can watch a movie and i can order whatever you like for dinnerââ he pauses. âas long as itâs not a salad.â
you laugh and agree, sitting back down as he hands you the remote. âhere, you pick a movie and âm gonna go take a shower.â
he leaves and you settle on some random romcom, scrolling through your phone as you wait for him to shower, trying to distract your mind from imagining him under the shower head, water trickling down his perfectly sculpted body. before you know it, your hands are circling over your clothed clit as you cover your mouth, your eyes shut. you feel so dirty, so fucking dirty. ghost is none the wiser as youâre sat there, an orgasm building while you imagine the way he looks, the way his cock looks, how big you think he is.
when you hear footsteps, you stop, despite not being able to cum as ghost enters the room in just a towel, his hair wet and clinging to his face while the towel did little to hide his ever so perfect v-line. in those moments, you wished youâd lost all the weight you wanted so heâd actually be attracted to you, but you bite back your thoughts.
ghost, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing. and he knew exactly what you were doing. he couldnât miss it. the imagine of you sat on his couch, your fingers over your shorts and circling your clit burnt into his brain. he wants to comment on it, but he knows that he shouldnât. so he doesnât.
you both settle on ordering tacos for dinner and when heâs done getting dressed, he sits beside you in his loose grey sweatpants and white wifebeater. his hair is still slightly wet, but it doesnât bother him as he grabs a throw blanket and tosses it over the both of you as you press play on the movie, which is incredibly stupid. you spend the entire hour just laughing and making fun of the movie before it ends and your food arrives.
âyou okay with horror, gorgeous?â he asks as he sits back down and hands you your tacos. you shrug gently. you werenât the biggest horror fan because you were easily scared and often had to watch cartoons to ease your mind, but he was nice enough to let you stay the night so you wanted to repay him in any way you could. when he presses play, you notice how he hands you two extra tacos you donât remember asking him to order. he doesnât speak, he just sets them down on your plate and acts as if he hadnât, his eyes on the tv in front of you two. the lights are off, per his insistence to make it âscarierâ and you canât lie, it does increase your fear.
halfway through, youâre both done eating and the movie is reaching itâs climax (like you would be, very, very soon.)
you hadnât noticed how close youâd scooted to simon until thereâs a jump scare that makes you jolt, your hands reaching out to wrap themselves around his large biceps as you hide your face in his skin. when you realize what youâre done, you go to pull away but he shakes his head. ââs okay, love.â
so you cling to him every single time something scares you and he couldnât be more thrilled. he knew exactly what he was doing when heâd chosen this movie and he knew exactly how youâd both end up. as you hide your face behind his bicep, pulls it away and instead wraps it around you, pulling you closer.
you donât mind it and for the first time, you can smell his cologne and the way your cunt throbs is sinful. he was your friend. you may have attracted to him but he wasnât attracted to you.
when the movie ends, you insist on turning on barbie to calm your racing mind and he agrees. you get to talking and simon takes the chance to try to understand why youâre so insecure.
âlove,â he speaks. âif you donât mind me asking, why does your body bother you so much?â
itâs a sensitive topic and usually it would bother you, but you know simon and youâve grown so close that you open up rather easily. âi dunno. it didnât really bother me when i was a kid because i thought it would stop but it didnât. guys are pretty mean when youâre not their ideal type.â you snort the last part bitterly. âbut i canât blame them. iâm not what anyone wants. i used to blame the guys but, i dunno, i guess i came to terms with me just being fat and i hid myself away to keep anyone from saying anything.â
âyeah. itâs the reason i moved here but it had been happening long before that.â you sigh. âitâs not easy, but i got used to it. my weight drives everyone away. iâm surprised it hasnât did the same for you.â
ghost was so tired. every single time you talked down on yourself he fought the urge to show you just how fucking gorgeous you were and instead hoped youâd realize it, but you hadnât, and he knew he now needed to give you that extra push.
âlove, do you think iâm not attracted to you?â
you laugh. loudly. fully thinking that he was joking before you see his serious expression. âoh, youâre being serious?â you hum. âof course youâre not, simon. i meanâlook at you! you have so many abs and your biceps are huge. youâre fit. thereâs absolutely no chance you could ever be attracted to me. iâm a pig.â
âhm.â he hums before hands grab your jaw and he brings his lips to yours, not giving you a single ounce of room to pull away. at first, youâre confused. you donât understand why heâs kissing you but you quickly become thankful that he is because you think itâll never happen again, so you lean into it, your lips moving with his as he lets out a moan into your lips. âso tired of hearinâ that shit.â he whispers out as he moves to kiss at your neck.
âalways sayinâ that youâre fat and ugly and whatever the fuck.â he continues on. âyouâre so fuckinâ pretty. donât know how you donât see it.â his teeth are on your neck and heâs sucking on your skin as if he was afraid youâd pull away, but he soon did. âstand up.â he instructs, and so you do.
he placed his hands on the underside of your thighs, gesturing you to jump, but you shake your head. âsimon, iâm too heavyââ
he groans in pure annoyance before he picks you up, his strong arms not buckling once under your weight as he carries you to his bedroom. âheavy my ass. youâre lighter than a feather, love.â his hands grab at your ass and he absolutely loves how it fails to grab all of the plush flesh.
it shouldnât make your pussy as wet as it does but itâs so.. hot to see this man carrying you around when youâd worried that no one would ever be able to. he sets you onto his bed gently and sits besides you, his hands going to the end of your shirt before you stop him.
âsimon. iâi canât.â you whisper, your embarrassment overwhelming your need for him. âyou wonât like itââ
he wants to tell you he will, that he knows he will, but he knows his words havenât worked so far, so he instead rips your shirt into two as he mutters a promise of âiâll buy you a new oneâ. you gasp as your plump stomach is exposed to him, the way the pudge turns into rolls because youâre sat and he can see every bit of your stretch marks. your bra was on, as were your shorts, but you feel so exposed, as if youâre naked. heâs silent, just staring at you and youâre about to start crying when he whispers one single thing.
it falls from his lips so easily, as if heâs thought it to himself time and time again. he canât keep himself at bay anymore and he lets every single dirty thought heâs had about you roam through his head as he gently pushes you down and his hands explore the extra fat on your body. âso fucking perfect.â he groans aloud, squeezing your skin. he buries his face in your tummy and kisses at the soft skin. âcanât believe youâve hid this from me for so long, love. so pretty, my god.â
itâs as if the man is drunk on you. his words are slurred and his eyes are hazy as he babbles out a variety of compliments before looking up at you. âoff. off.â he pouts as he moves his hands to your bra, sloppily pulling it off and throwing it somewhere in the room before marveling at your heavy tits, the way they fall out of your bra is downright fucking sinful and he canât help but marvel at their size. theyâre so big, so soft, and so fucking warm. he wastes no time sucking on your puffy pink nipples as you moan beneath him. you donât understand why heâs so obsessed with your body, why heâs not deterred, why heâs not disgusted with you. it seems that heâs absolutely infatuated with your every roll, your every stretch mark, every bit of cellulite.
his hands are groping your tits and he doesnât care that they donât fit into them. you notice how he becomes more.. sloppy. how heâs not trying to stay clean as spit drips down your nipples and his chin and heâs rutting into absolutely nothing before he lets out a low moan. his body is shuddering and you can see his cock twitching in his sweats along with the wet patch that follows suit. he pushes his face into your soft tummy and whimpers into the skin, squirming beneath you in a way that makes your cunt wetter than it had ever been before.
âdid you justââ you stutter out when he pulls away and pants. âsimon, did you just cum in your pants?â
âcouldnât help it. âm sorry.â he whimpers out before he sits up. âmore. more. i need more of you. now.â heâs ravenous as he pulls your shorts and panties off before looking at your pussy. itâs so plump, so pretty. your clit is swollen and your arousal coats the entirety of your ever so perfect cunt. he eats you like a man starved, his tongue lapping up everything you give him without a care in the world. you canât help it as you close your thighs around his head before pulling away and apologizing, which only makes him eat you with more fervor.
âput âem back.â he whispers.
âsimon, i donâtâfuck!âi donât wanna hurt you.â
so he takes it upon himself to grab your thighs and push them around his head, effectively trapping him between them as he eats your pussy like a madman. youâre moaning, your hands are in his hair and youâre tugging at it so hard youâre afraid you might be hurting him, but he doesnât care. he doesnât care at all. he wants to make your mind so fucking soupy and mushy that you canât help but agree to his every compliment, which is why he draws three orgasms out of you. youâre sobbing, your cunt so sensitive that youâre sure youâre going to die until he finally pulls away. you think itâs finally over until he looks up at you. âsit on my face, câmon love.â itâs a test. he wants to see if heâs dumbed you down enough to make you agree to put your full weight on him without worry that heâll be disgusted or that youâll hurt him. and when you mutter through broken sobs that youâll crush him, he sighs.
âgettinâ real sick of this âiâll crush youâ shit.â he grumbles as he lays on his back and pulls you up before sitting you down on his face, his arms holding you down tightly to keep you from even thinking of pulling away. you yelp out, only getting wetter at the fact that simon is doing absolutely fine despite your weight. youâre not suffocating him, youâre not hurting him. in fact, heâs relishing in the feel of your plump thighs around his face and fat cunt in his mouth.
âsimon!â you cry out. âcanâtâi canât! âs too much.â it had been so long since you came this much and so hard. your insecurities often stopped you from touching yourself and the jump from rarely having an orgasm once a month to almost four in a single night was melting your mind to absolute mush.
ââs never too much, baby. you can take it.â he purrs from beneath you, sucking on your clit before his tongue finds its way inside of your hole before he pulls back to moan into your cunt. âjusâ as warm as i thought it would be.â
his words are going in one ear and out the other, the sensitivity and your overstimulation driving you absolutely insane.
âtouched myself to you so many times. had to jerk off every hour to keep myself sane.â he whispers and when he notices youâre too wrapped up in your head to respond, he smiles. âcum on my face, baby. iâve got you.â
and so you do, for the fourth time, your pussy contacts on his tongue and you let out a strangled sob as he cleans you up and rubs small circles onto the sides of your chubby thighs. when he releases your thighs, you sit up a bit and he takes the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt while his other hand squeezes your tits. âmy girls are so pretty. so plump and full.â he groped you shamelessly as he plunges his fingers in and out of you until you cum on his fingers, your arousal dripping down in a way that drives him mad as he brings them to his lips.
youâre about to tell him you canât take much more when he looks up at you. âthink you can take my cock?â
and your energy has been reinstated.
âon your knees, câmon love.â he instructs helping you up and pushing an arch into your back as he looks at your ass thatâs just so big and so fucking soft, he canât help himself as he slaps it. heâs about to apologize when he hears the moan that leaves your mouth. âoh?â he quips as he spanks your ass once again. âyou like that, love?â
you nod and normally heâd want words, but heâs so close to frying your brain that he doesnât ask for them. canât have his pretty, dumb baby thinking now, can he? no, thatâd be horrible. sheâd start spewing shit about how she wasnât pretty enough and he would have to start alllllll over again.
when he slides into you, the moan that leaves his lips is loud and absolutely shameless. âmy god, youâre so warm.â his hands grab your hips. âso fuckinâ soft.â and with that, heâs pulling you off and on his cock, your wetness coating his shaft as you moan loudly. youre squeezing him so tightly, as if youâre afraid heâd pull away and he loves it so much. when he slows to draw the encounter out, you whine and begin to move yourself, the feel of his cock inside you driving your movements. ghost watches in pure lust as your ass bounces whenever it collides with his lower abdomen and he moans. âfuck yourself back on my cock, baby. thatâs it.â
at this point, youâre doing everything he tells you.
when you get tired and your movements slow, he takes over one again, leaning forward and using his bicep to almost choke you as he lifts your head from the sheets youâd been burying your head in. he loves feeling your tears drip onto his arms. he hates when you cry in general but when itâs because of how good you feel, he relishes in it. âlet it out, love. sob for me.â
and you do, your cries a mix of moans, whimpers, and strangled sobs as simon moans into your ear and occasionally leans down to bite your neck. âso pretty. so fucking pretty.â
âsiâmon.â his name claws its way up your throat as your eyes roll back. âclose, close.â you can barely form sentences and simon coos at you. âi know, baby, but not yet. came so many times, you can wait a little.â
ââs too much! canât.â your hands are clawing the sheets and your legs are struggling to keep you upright.
ââs okay, baby. âm right here. youâre okay, iâve got you.â he speaks to you so sweetly, which doesnât match the roughness of his thrusts. âsuch a dumb girl to think i couldnât love a body like this. my silly, dumb, girl.â
âshh. donât think. just feel good, baby.â he hums as his hands move back to grab your hips and pull you back onto his cock. his tip is pressing against your cervix and you love the pain it brings, the way it turns to a pleasure youâre certain only he can bring.
ânoâno, no, no.â you sob hysterically, needing more, needing to cum, needing him.
ââm not stopping, baby. jusâ need you to lay on your back.â he whispers as you turn to face him. he kisses away your tears as his hands grab at your pudgy tummy. âsee all this?â he looks down at your stomach as you nod. âi love it. never wanna hear you say you think i donât ever again. love grabbing it, love lookinâ at it, love feelinâ it in my hands.â he chuckles as he grabs at your fat. âsee how it doesnât even fit into my hands? so fuckinâ sexy.â
when you smile and whisper out a soft âreally?â he knows heâs finally done it. finally dumbed you down enough to fill your pretty little head with whatever he wanted. and so when he has you lay back and pushes you into a mating press, he gets real close to you, watching the way you pout as you cry and beg for more, but he doesnât give it to you. heâs deliberately slow for many reasons that become apparent when he speaks. âtell me, love, whoâs the prettiest girl in the world?â
âmore.â you cry out, but he shakes his head. ânot until you answer me, love.â
âme.â you mewl, and he speeds up, smiling down at you. âthatâs right, baby. whoâs absolutely fucking perfect?â
âthatâs it. never wanna hear you talk down on yourself. youâre so sexy, so beautiful. âm obsessed with you and your body and âm gonna pump you full of my cum so you donât forget it.â
you moan lowly, your cunt squeezing him tightly and he knows youâre close, so he keeps it up. âsilly girl was so sure i wouldnât like her cause of her weight, as if.â he scoffs before he whimpers and lowers his head. âso much for me to grab, to taste, to love.â
âclose.â you breathe out, but you notice how the pressure that builds up in your stomach is more.. intense. your cunt is clenching around him as if trying to stop him from moving, as if trying to lower the intensity of this knot building in you.
ânot gonna let you cum until you tell me how pretty you areânghhââ heâs cut off by a moan and his thrusts grow sloppy and heâs whimpering out into the air.
ââm pretty.â you say through broken sobs. ââm so pretty. fucking perfect the way i am.â and you actually believe the words slipping from your lips. you truly feel pretty.
âyeah you areâfuck!â he cries out. âcanât hold on much longer. too perfect, too pretty.â he buries his face into your tits, licking and sucking at any skin you gave him access to. heâs obsessed with you. absolutely infatuated with you. and heâs gonna make sure you donât forget it.
suddenly, you jolt and sit up, the scream that slipped from your lips echoing throughout the otherwise quiet house as you cum. hard. harder than you ever fucking have in your life. your mind goes blank and fuzzy and your vision goes hazy as you slump back and yell out different cries of his name. you donât even realize youâre squirting on him until you re-open your eyes and see the mess youâre currently making. itâs splashing on your thighs, your tummy that he loves so much, the bed, and simon himself.
âoh my fucking god.â he whimpers into your ear. the way heâs rutting into you is shameful and he feels like a virgin whoâs eager to get his fill. âfuck, fuck.â heâs whining, heâs whimpering, heâs an utter fucking mess and god, does he love it. âgonna cum in you, is that okay?â his words are rushed because he knows he canât hold on any longer and though he said he was gonna fill you, he wants to make sure youâre okay with it, so when you nod, he whimpers out your name and he gives you one final thrust as he fills you to the brim, your walls squeezing him so tight you can feel his cum ooze around the spongy spot inside of you that makes you cum and squirt on his cock once again. he doesnât dare pull out until heâs certain youâre done, not wanting it anywhere but all over him.
when he pulls himself out, he moans softly at the sight of his seed dripping out of you before he takes his thumb and pushes it back in, eliciting a low moan from you.
youâd never felt so beautiful in your fucking life.
âcâmere, gorgeous.â he whispers, capturing you in the softest of kisses as his thumbs wipe away your tears while you sniffle. when he pulls away he strokes your hair and smiles at you. âdonât even ask if this is a one time thing. âs not. gonna fuck you until you truly see how pretty you are.â
you arenât disgusted with yourself for the first time in a long time and when he moves to lay behind you, spooning your body as his hand squeezes your tummy, you smile lazily and lean into the touch, not feeling a single ounce of shame for your weight and simon loves it. you were so soft and warm, how could he possibly not?
