you can’t convince me these men wouldn’t appreciate a pair of plush, pillowy thighs.
price keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh during long drives. fingers flexing, tapping every now and then. sometimes jiggling them, whether he realises it or not.
when there hasn’t been another car for quite some time, his hand starts to wander higher along the inside of your thigh. he just grunts when you glance at him.
“need somethin’ to keep me awake, love.”
honestly? you stop pretending to mind. not when you know those thick fingers can work absolute magic.
simon likes seeing evidence of himself on you. rough hand gripping until faint fingerprints bloom across your skin.
he’ll stare at them afterward. there’s something deeply possessive in the way he looks over the marks, eyes going darker by the second.
“look at tha’,” he murmurs, voice rough enough to send heat down your spine. “fits me hand perfect, don’t it.”
it’s a proof that you’re real. and his.
johnny would be shameless about it. pinching your thighs every chance he gets just to hear you complain about him being annoying.
the real danger starts when his teeth suddenly sink into the meat of your thigh like some needy mutt, just enough to make you jolt.
then he kisses and licks the mark like that fixes anything. grinning widely when he sees the imprint he left behind.
“coulnae help maself, bonnie.”
kyle is gone the second he rests his head in your lap. completely gone. the way you play gently with his curls, fingers massaging his scalp while his eyes flutter shut…
it would make any man melt.
“my sweet girl takin’ such good care of me.”
but be aware, this soft man might turn feral in a moment, fighting the overwhelming urge to drag his tongue along the inside of your thigh just to hear the sound you’d make for him.
graves is totally not staring at how your thighs fill out those slacks today.
he insists on wedging onto the couch beside you that is clearly too small for two people, “helping” you dig through stacked folders for a contract that he misplaced.
when he runs his mouth again to defend himself, you nudge your thigh to push him out of the way.
“careful, darlin’.” he catches your thigh before you can pull away, thumb pressing slow into the soft flesh there. “keep this up and i’m gonna forget we’re workin’.”
alejandro’s hands always drift to your thighs whenever he pulls you close. you’re never safe wearing a shorter skirt or dress near him.
loves putting you on top of the counter, spreading your legs just enough so he can stand between them with heat in his eyes.
“how’s a man supposed to stay respectful with these thighs wrapped around him, cariño?”
the worst part? that devastating grin turns downright smug when your legs part wider for him without you even realizing it.
and rudy - our sweet, disciplined rudy - pretends to be better than the rest of them.
but one look at your thighs in shorts and suddenly he’s wishing for the old rosary his abuela gave him years ago, the one sitting forgotten on the bedside table shelf.
he shuts his eyes with a quiet curse in spanish.
“dios mío you’re gonna be the death of me.”
as if gripping those worn beads could save him from every impure thought clawing through his head right now.
…and if any of these men ever catch you feeling insecure about your thighs - hating their size, disgusted by those dimples and ripples of cellulite, yada yada yada - best believe they’ll have many ways of reminding you just how much they love them.
⤷ MASTERLIST
a/n is this self-indulgent? yes. much love to all the girlies out there who are insecure with their thighs 🫶
Reader! who ends up pregnant after a one night stand with Graves.
You don’t even really have proof that the baby is his but you know it is because he’s the only man you’ve been with after he fucked you silly right against the hood of his pickup truck.
Don’t ask how he pulled that shit with you.
You just know he dropped you off with a wave and you never intended to be— here.
In a military base office you truly didn’t know, four months pregnant, eyes erratic and knee bouncing like a kangaroo on crack from nerves and irritation.
You just wanted to say your peace and then go home. Maybe have a cry because you weren’t alone and pregnant, maybe have that ice cream you’d been thinking about since this morning. You weren’t expecting shit from the man, not a dollar, not a diaper. You weren’t used to being brushed aside your whole life, this was just another situation you’d need to stand tall on your own. A life altering situation but you could do it. You’ve done it before. You’d do it again. You just needed acknowledgement.
And he turned that corner toward where you sat in the waiting room, your guts almost spilled on the floor, right along it’s the baby. He was just as handsome as you remembered, tall, muscular, blue eyes, pretty lashes, he’s twinkling with irritation, talking to three men who followed right as his heals, maybe he could even tell you what to do— focus reader.
You stood, swallowing down every bit of fear, a little pride—
“Graves?” You called out, thankful it didn’t sound like a croak. It was more of a statement than a question. Not asking for attention, demanding it.
His eyes flickered over to you, a little shock fills his eyes, he gives some hand signal to his men, waving them away, “Give us a second boys.”
A smirk grows on his lips as he comes closer to you, more than amused that you, a one night stand, has somehow gotten a hold of him like this. His fault for knowing the people of that small town you were from. But it’s not like you were forgettable, you were headstrong, much smarter than the ditzy girls than hung around that bar, even more memorable when you let him stick his dick in your gushy walls. Still, you’re as gorgeous as ever in his eyes, even with that uncertain look on your face and the oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants you wore. He’d prefer you in something tighter, a sun dress that hugged your pretty tits— “Well it isn’t the pretty doll from that bar, where did we last meet? In the bar? Nooo, the Honda—“
“—I’m pregnant.” You interjected, tired of the games, you pulled out the sonogram in your baggy pocket. “You’re the father.”
Phillip Graves doesn’t flinch. Not to anything.
Not when he got the news his mom was in the hospital. Not when he found out his men had died delivering that weapon of mass destruction, and not when he heard from your sweet lips that you would be having his first child.
He’s unwavering like a mountain, just walked towards you, taking the photos in hand, smirk growing wider as he eyes the little thing. A cute bean.
He chuckles. Fucking chuckles.
You almost leap out of your body, and skin him alive but he pulls you close by the waist with one hand. The other hand lifts your chin to look at him, slowly trailing down from your collar bones, past your plump breasts, to lay a hand on your slowly growing belly. He hums in delight.
“Graves—“
“—Got lucky with you huh? Blessed t’ have you havin my baby. Makin me a real man, huh dolly?”
And you’re even more confused. Eyebrows furrowing, taken aback, “Blessed to have-?”
Phillip folds the sonogram and sticks it in his wallet, “I’m just as shocked as you, I always wrap it up tight. Always. But shit like this happens when you least expect it, don’t they? ‘Nd ‘m sure you came ‘nd worried that pretty little head ‘f yers of the worst. But I’m no bastard darlin, was raised right. Little thangs our kid, so of course I’ll be there for ‘em.”
“Gonna be… partners from now on [+], best if get along, right? For the baby ‘nd such.” He sticks out his hand, all polite.
You hesitate at first, but take it. It’s an agreement, just so you both can be in the babies life and be proper parents.
Sort’ve.
The southern man’s already envisioning you walking down the aisle in a pretty white dress, right after your baby girl or baby boy walks with the ring or the flower basket. You’d unknowingly agreeded to not just being cordial parents to your unborn child but being his woman, lover, friend— all wrapped into one and tied with a bow.
There’s no way a man like that would let a woman like you slip from his fingers again. He was stupid before, he’s sober now. He definitely wrap around you to get what he wants.
Always read the fine print when you’re dealing with a fox sweetheart.
a/n: genuinely don’t think Phillip got you pregnant on purpose (not this time) but he’s thankful for someone as pretty and knowledgeable as you.
farmer!graves runs that farm as if it were the military. meticulously and with calculated moves. excep sometimes pawns aka farmhands decide to flunk out at the worst possible times and with not enough notice to do something about it.
graves hates more than anything to have to ask you for help around the estate, but with breeding season starting and work pilling up in every corner he find himself with no option than to take in your offer for another set of working hands.
except this man, just like when he was in the military, often lets his personal interest overpower his profesional ones. that's how breeding season starts with you being the first thing getting breed in that farm.
your body laid over a tree on a more secluded area - can't let any of his pawns catch a view of his beautiful wife's naked body -. his shirt laid over the tree to prevent hurting you, but still the blunt force of his hips as he fucks his leaky cock into you makes your body slide. hands grabbing your hips to keep you still as his thrusts get erratic and he burries himself to the hilt, his twitching balls laying heavily against your poor sensitive clit. pearly cum soon painting your gummy walls and, much to his dismay, leaking out as soon as he pulls his dick from you.
too bad, he will have to fuck more of his cum into you later, but not before pulling your panties up and making you keep a mess between your legs all day.
Mhmm Graves manipulating reader into liking him after he arranged a marriage with their father, one of his investors, because they were sooo pretty. Slimy older man Graves that lays his southern charm on thick and basically keeps his partner beneath him, but they kinda like it
You were furious. Graves could tell, but he didn't pay much mind to it as he all but drags you to the center of the dance floor. "Let go of me!" You his angrily when he pulls you tight against his chest.
"What? Can't dance with my bride?" He smirks down at you, hand tight on your hip to keep you close. "You can fuss all you want, sweetheart. It's a done deal."
"I'll make your life hell." You vow as he twirls you, the slightly sheer dress he chose for the reception billowing around your legs. "You're a godless, filty man. You have me half naked in front of all these guests... I'm nothing but meat to you."
"Ah, don't say that, sweetheart." He coos as he dips you low to the ground. You yelp, gripping his shoulder tight, which makes him grin wickedly down at you. "You're also the reason your Daddy's business can keep running. Such a pretty thing for me." He whispers as he nuzzles his nose against your neck. He raises you up from the dip as the song ends, the crowd of people you didn't know clapping and cheering their support.
"I hate you."
"That's okay, darling. I'll treat you real nice."
Phillip believed the only thing a woman should do is rest. The housekeeper he hired kept things clean, his cook prepared all his meals, and he had landscapers for anything outside. He made sure you quit your job. It was insulting for you to work when he could provide everything you could ever need.
"You are not taking my fucking car!" You snarl, diving after the keys held in Graves hand. He dangles them over his head, grinning down at you as he jingles them in the air. "Give. That. Back."
"If you need to go somewhere, you can call the driver. It's not safe for a lady to drive around on her own." He explains softly, like he was talking a child down from a tantrum.
"I've been driving for years! No accidents, no tickets, don't bullshit me!" You shove his chest hard, getting angrier when he barely budges. "Give me back my keys!"
"I already sold the car, sweetheart. It's not like the keys would get you anywhere." He chuckles as he drops them onto the floor. You froze, not even bothering to grab the keys off the floor.
"You didn't... You fucking sold it!?"
"What have I told you about that foul mouth, sweetheart?" He sighs as he strokes your hair away from your face. "Yes, I sold it. Don't worry, I took that stash of money you had in the trunk and put it towards some clothes for when we travel! You needed something for winter."
Tears flood your eyes, heart pounding so hard you could barely hear what he was saying. You should have known that Graves would find the money. It was stupid to keep it there, and now it was gone.
"Oh, hey, hey... don't cry, darling!" He thumbs a few tears away from your face. "What, is it because I said we're going to the mountains? We can pick something else." He assures with that same gentle tone. "Oh, poor thing." He coos as he guides you into his chest, grinning when you melt into him.
It didn't take long for Phillip to make you comfortable. Everything you wanted, you got. Except your freedom, of course. He couldn't let you have that. "I've got you that new mixer, darling. Do you need help setting up your little bakery tomorrow?" He murmurs as he wraps his arms around your waist.
The money always went back into ingredients, or your new favorite skincare that Phillip insisted on. "No, baby, I'll be fine." You assure, turning and giving him a kiss. "Did you order me that new dress? For the ball?"
"It's already on the way." He chuckles, giving your bottom a squeeze. "I'll be in my study if you need me." You knew he wanted you to need him. He expected you to need him, to wander into his office and crawl under his desk for his cock. He didn't care about what you needed to finish before opening. He just cared about his own needs.
You let him fuck you over the desk while the dough rises, and finish baking all your cookies before going to bed. The morning before you opened the small front porch bakery was the best. Silent and peaceful as you baked the last of your treats, decorated everything, and packaged it to go. You went through two cups of coffee by the time you opened. The line down the sidewalk made you smile, ready to interact with anyone who wasn't Phillip or his team.
People who saw you outside of him.
"Hello, love, four of the cinnamon rolls, please." The bearded man was charming, a worn fishing hat on his head though you doubted he had time for it.
"Coming right up." You hum as you shuffle a few boxes aside. You find a four pack, setting them on the counter and taking the fifty dollar bill from his hands.
"Let me get your change -"
"No, love. You keep it." He assures as he pats the table. "I'll be back next week, alright?" You chuckle nervously as you pocket the bill, awkwardly waving him goodbye as the next customer walks up.
CW: mid/plus-size reader, photos of people wearing lingerie!, mentions of sex/sexual activities
Photos are not indicative of reader's body type/skin colour/other physical attributes! Just meant to be examples, but us bigger girls deserve some rep on here (but also why is it so hard to find cute pics of mid/plus-size girlies that aren't ads or extremely edited?)
All rights go to owners of the photos! I tried to crop out their faces as best I could <3
John Price
Price would love anything feminine. He adores when you play into his housewife kink, parading around the house in babydoll dresses and fur-lined robes (preferably sheer). He wouldn't even bother with taking the pieces off once he gets his hands on you, simply pulling and adjusting where necessary. Not above ripping either, but don't worry, he'll gladly buy you some new sets. Maybe he should get you some of those crotchless panties, poppet, would save him a lot of hassle.
Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish
Listen, as much as he loves it seeing you all dolled up, there is nothing that gets him going quicker than you in some raggedy, hole-ridden comfy clothes, preferably when they're his. His boxers framing your plump ass so nicely, digging into your flesh a bit when you move and his shirt doing nothing to hide the jiggle of your tits while your nipples poke through the fabric. If he sees you like this, his hands are all over you in a split second. God forbid your shirt is cropped, showing off your soft tummy and the underside of your breasts — you couldn't pry him off with a crowbar.
(you cannot tell me Johnny doesn't own some dumbass boxers like this)
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
In fear of repeating myself, I think Simon would also go a little dreamy-eyed over you in your comfies. Except, unlike Johnny, he loves those sweet little pj-sets you wear. He's still a little taken aback every time he comes home to you curled up on his — your — couch. The realization that he has something this sweet to come home to — that he has a home at all, hitting him like a freight train. Like Price, doesn't bother taking your pajamas off when he pounces on you. Just makes it easier for him to tuck you into bed after he's done with you.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
Garters, belts, straps, buckles, the whole thing. And best believe he's the one picking them out, too. You'll randomly find boxes on your bed, the contents in different styles, colours, fabrics. He insists you model them for him, or send him pictures if he's deployed. The sets are an absolute nightmare to get into, but he'll gladly help you take them off, darlin'. Don't mind him though, if he snaps a photo or two in the process. Also loves it when you wear lingerie as part of an actual outfit. What can I say, the man loves showing you off (with the knowledge he's the only one that gets to see the full sets and everything underneath them later).
König
Anything resembling some cheap halloween costume from party city. It honestly doesn't matter to him what; sexy secretary, naughty nurse, you name it. Literally whatever. He will lose his mind a little if you go as far as to engage in some roleplay pertaining to whatever you're wearing — acting like he's your boss or your patient. Oh, a pair of animal ears can and will make his eyes roll back in his head. (He will, however, ensure that your outfits are of relatively good quality — they've gotta outlast a least a few rounds, Schatzi).
Philip Graves
Ugh, he's so nasty (affectionate). He wants you to look hyper-feminine. His perfect little all-american wife (even if you've never set foot in the usa, or don't yet wear a ring on your finger) in her hyper-feminine lingerie, waiting for her soldier to come home. Frilly bras, lacy undies and silky night dresses in white or pink or any pastel shade. He gets off on the innocence they exude — makes him want to ruin you. And then wife you up. Maybe give you a baby or two.
Alejandro Vargas
Corsets!!! Or anything somewhat structured, really. This man adores the shape of your body no matter what, and the way the corset only accentuates the curve of your waist and pushes your tits up so deliciously has him rock fucking hard. If you choose to add some thigh-highs to that with the plush fat of your thighs spilling over the edge you may as well have killed him. He also has this weird infatuation with the marks the corset leaves on your skin after you (or he) take it off.
Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra
This poor man nearly faints the first time you wear lingerie for him (and pretty much every time after that). It doesn't particularly matter to him what it is, but he does like it when you stick to the classics: simple lacy bra and panty set. He likes that it makes you feel confident and (relatively) comfortable, as your comfort is always his number one priority. He also just thinks the simplicity of the sets helps accentuate the beauty of your body, rather than distract from it.
Valeria Garza
Anything expensive. Like, crazy expensive. She has the money, amor, why not spend it on something she enjoys? She'll make sure you only wear the highest quality fabrics (and that goes for all your clothing, by the way, she likes taking care of her girl). There are diamonds glittering all over your body, highlighting all your curves and twinkling with every move you make, and a nice string of pearls disappearing between your folds.
(I couldn't find ANY photos of this type of lingerie on bigger bodies, my apologies. Rest assured Valeria will get everything custom-made for you — remember, only the best for her girl)
The Premise. After the world ended, it was women who rebuilt society – women who came to run emerging settlements – and women who carefully controlled the few men that weren’t taken by the apocalypse. Any “unclaimed” male is game to be captured by a settlement and used for breeding or labour. Each reader must make her way in a different version of this world, choosing to exploit, assist, or use the men she encounters.
The Stories. All fics are female reader self-inserts, but each has a different pairing. They are listed below with their authors:
Published:
Gaz: "Flint" by @gloomwitchwrites (read on AO3 here)
Ghost: "Devil Bone" by @gloomwitchwrites (or read on AO3 here)
Soap (Reboot): "Absconder" by @unseaworthy (or read on AO3 here)
Nikto: "Feral Yield" by @konigswaifu (or read on AO3 here)
Coming Soon:
Graves: @silverlullabies
König: @konigswaifu
Nikolai: @verascrow
Price: @bunnyreaper
Soap (OG): @youarehereyouaresafe
Alejandro: @ominous-potato96
Please Note. These stories each come with their own rating, content warnings, and tags.
Stories will be released over the coming months. This masterlist will be updated with titles and links as they are posted. Enjoy!
A pretty little southern lady who is utterly obsessed with literally all animals. Bugs? Love em. Birds? Love em. Fish? Love em.
She only wears one pair of shoes until they wear completely out then she buys an identical pair. She wears the same 10 outfits over and over. And best of all? She is Terrible at talking out loud.
She whispers all the time, which is wild considering her husband is the loudest man ever to live.
They met at a party. Some government official’s birthday.
Graves found her in one of the upstairs bathrooms with all the house’s pets curled up in the tub with them and cooing softly.
If you took one of the boys home, and you had a big ol' dog, I think that...
John would do the thing where instead of petting the dog, he just lovingly pats it's side..."The dad pat". And he's definitely sharing whatever he eats with the dog, too (as long as it's safe for the dog, ofc...he wants to spoil the dog, not make it sick).
Kyle would be on his best behavior with the dog...Until you're not looking. As soon as you leave those two alone, he riles the dog up. You'll be on an important call when there's just a cacophony of barking, play-growling, and stomping from a few rooms over.
Since Johnny doesn't like dogs all that much, he would try to stick close to your side...Or wherever the dog will leave him alone. But alas, the dog definitely decides that he's their new best friend, father, playmate, and everything else that involves Soap being as close as possible. Wherever the Scot goes, the big puppy isn't far behind.
Simon is on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to Johnny. Simon LOVES dogs, and he comes prepared. Every time Simon comes through your door, expect a gift for you...And one for the dog. Suddenly your dog has a skull bandana to match Ghost, and looks almost disappointed when you come home without him sometimes.
The Shadows already have some German Shepard's and Belgian Malinois on the team...So when Phillip sees that you have a dog that's bigger than the ones he's used to working with, he's excited. Phillip is high-energy, your dog has a lot of pent up energy...Take them to the park, and just watch them both run, play frisbee, fetch...They could do this for hours. And when you get home and the dog is sound asleep, Phillip will still have enough energy for you.
König would IMMEDIATELY try picking the dog up like a baby. As soon as he knows the dog won't try to rip his face off, he just scoops it up into his arms. Half as a show of strength ("Look, Schatzi...They weigh nothing to me!"), and half because I can't help but see him as an animal lover. And if you're watching a movie, or cuddling, or doing anything together, nine out of ten times he'll want the dog to come. Sorry, but that's his baby now, too.
