a/n: this entire fic was written while I listened to “sweet boy” by malcolm todd 👀👀 on repeat @all-monsters-are-human
peter maximoff x plus-size!reader
summary: peter cant sleep, your the only reason he can. it’s just a bestfriend thing — right?
warnings: mutual pining, body image issues, insecure reader, lots of cuddling, light teasing, touchy best friends who don’t know they’re in love yet.
rules! masterlist
It’s 2:37 a.m. when your bedroom door creaks open.
you don’t look up from your book.
“if you’re here to steal my snacks again,” you mumble, “i hid the good ones.”
there’s a pause. then—
“wow. that’s hostile. i’m wounded.”
peter’s voice is quiet. not playful-quiet. just… lower than usual.
you glance over.
he’s leaning against the doorframe in gray sweats and a faded band tee, hair a mess like he ran here at full speed and only fixed half of it. he gives you a lopsided shrug.
“couldn’t sleep,” he says.
you snort softly. “shocker.”
he rolls his eyes but pushes off the frame and crosses the room—slowly.
he always moves slower around you. not in a dramatic way. just enough that you don’t feel like you’re being left behind.
he drops onto your bed with a quiet thump and immediately reaches for you like it’s muscle memory.
It kind of is.
you shift without looking at him, lifting your arm. he slides under it, curling against your side, one leg hooking over yours. his head settles against your stomach. he exhales.
his whole body goes loose.
you stare down at the ceiling.
“you good?” you ask quietly.
“mm.” he adjusts slightly, nose brushing your shirt. “yeah.”
his hand finds the fabric near your waist, fingers curling into it like he’s anchoring himself.
you pretend you don’t notice how natural it feels.
you set your book aside and start running your fingers through his hair. he sighs again—relieved. his knee presses between yours. his weight is solid and warm.
across the hall, you hear someone walk past your door. a beat of silence. then faintly:
“…every night?” kurt’s voice.
“yep,” raven replies flatly.
footsteps continue down the hall.
you ignore it.
peter doesn’t.
his shoulders tense for half a second, then relax when you scratch lightly at his scalp.
“they’re dramatic,” he mutters.
“you do break into my room at ungodly hours.”
he shifts so he can look up at you. his chin digs into your stomach a little and you stiffen instinctively before you can stop yourself.
he notices.
his brow furrows.
“did i—”
“no.” you shake your head quickly. “you’re fine.”
you drop your gaze.
he studies you for a second too long.
then, awkwardly, he props himself up on one elbow. “if you want me to go, i can. i mean. not go-go. just— floor? couch? window. i’ve slept on worse.”
you blink at him. window? what?
“peter.”
he looks almost defensive now. “i’m not, like, invading. if you’re uncomfortable, just say it. i’m not gonna explode or something.”
you hesitate.
because the truth isn’t that you’re uncomfortable with him.
It’s that you’re hyperaware of how much space you take up.
of his arm around you.
of how your body presses into his when he gets close.
you laugh softly, trying to brush it off. “you’re such a drama queen. get back down.”
he narrows his eyes slightly. suspicious. but he lowers himself again, this time more carefully. like he’s afraid to put too much weight on you.
that makes your chest twist.
“you don’t have to hover,” you murmur.
“I’m not hovering.”
“you are.”
“I’m being considerate.”
“you’re being weird.”
he huffs quietly but lets himself relax fully this time. his cheek settles against you again. his hand slides to your waist.
not light.
just there.
comfortable.
his thumb moves once against the fabric of your shirt, absentminded.
you swallow.
“you know,” you say lightly, staring at the ceiling, “most people don’t need a human body pillow to sleep.”
he’s quiet for a second.
“most people don’t have insomnia.”
you glance down at him.
his eyes are open now. Not joking. Just honest.
“I sleep better here,” he says, almost shrugging. “that’s not illegal.”
your heart does something annoying.
you force a small smile. “you’re clingy.”
“yeah.”
no denial.
he just says it.
your fingers resume moving through his hair. he closes his eyes again almost instantly.
you stare at the faint glow of streetlights through your curtains.
“peter?” you murmur after a minute.
“mm?”
“why me?”
his eyes open again, confused. “what?”
you hesitate, already regretting it. “like… you could’ve asked anyone. wanda. the couch. literally anyone.”
he shifts so he can see your face again, eyebrows pulling together like the question genuinely doesn’t compute.
“why would i ask wanda?”
you shrug. “i dunno.”
“she throws things when she’s asleep.”
you almost smile.
he watches you for another beat.
“yeah — powers and everything.”
you both laugh before it turns into a comfortable silence
“you’re warm.”
you blink.
he looks faintly embarrassed now, like he didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“and you don’t move,” he adds quickly. “and you— you, uh. you smell like that vanilla thing. it’s nice.”
your face heats.
“that’s the most awkward compliment i’ve ever gotten.”
he winces slightly. “yeah, well. didn’t mean it like—” He gestures vaguely, flustered. “y’know.”
you nod, pretending you do.
he settles back down again, this time pulling you a little closer without asking. like it’s instinct.
your hand stills for half a second.
he notices again.
“i’m not heavy,” he says quickly. “i mean. i am. obviously. gravity and all. but i can— i can hold myself up more if—”
“peter,” you cut in gently.
“you’re not heavy.”
his eyes search your face like he’s trying to solve a math problem.
you look away first.
after a moment, he exhales and lets himself relax completely. fully. trusting you to say something if it’s wrong. “m’kayyy..” he dragged out.
you resume playing with his hair.
within minutes, his breathing evens out.
fast.
like always.
you stay awake.
staring at the ceiling.
feeling the weight of him against you. feeling how easy it is for him.
how natural.
you wonder, not for the first time, what he’d do if he ever realized how much this isn’t just “best friend” behavior.
Hey this is my best friend you can writing Steven grant x reader that the reader has insecurities for his body and Steven tells her how wonderful it is?
Notes of smut, but nothing graphic
You pulled off the control top with a sigh. When it was off completely, you looked at yourself in the mirror once more. Looking at yourself from the side, you couldn't help but scowl at the way your tummy drooped slightly. You ran your hands across the marks on the sides of your stomach and thighs.
Steven, meanwhile, watched you do this from the bed. He looked at you with a different set of eyes. Ones full of strong admiration and desire. He wished you could see what he saw. A wonderful body he couldn't stop touching whenever it was pressed up against him. He's never grown bored of your lovemaking, not when there was always parts of you he could get his hands on and give a sensual squeeze to.
You were like his personal goddess. It's why he found it so baffling that you could look at yourself with so much disappointment.
"Darling,"
You turned your attention to him, knowing the tone he was using. You still found it hard to believe that you found someone like him.
"Don't do this to yourself," he continued, getting up so he could walk over and wrap his arms around you. "Can't you see how gorgeous you are?"
As he kept his arms around you, he started to keep his hands busy by rubbing them along your sides. He kept looking at you through your reflections, no doubt what you were seeing contrasting. He needed to say more to you, talk to you about the way your curves drove him crazy. But as usual, he was at a loss as his fingers dug into your soft flesh. Only able to say one thing before deciding to give into his carnal urges.
A/N: This is my first Merrimen fic and was inspired by some seriously delicious watermelon while watching Den of Thieves. No beta on this so any mistakes are mine. Let me know what you think! ❤️
Sleep evaded you, no matter how much you tossed and turned. Reluctantly sitting up in bed, the spot beside you was empty and cold, making you frown in disappointment. No wonder you couldn’t sleep... you only really slept when Ray was beside you, holding you tight and keeping you safe.
When you unlocked your phone, the bright screen left you squinting to read the time. 1:00am.
With another dramatic groan, you scrubbed your hands over your face and shuffled out of bed. As you made your way through the house, you noticed the light still on in the work-shed out back. It didn’t surprise you. Ray was a night owl and spent most of his time using that brilliant brain of his. Just thinking about him made you smile, and you hoped that when he finally came to bed, he’d want to do more than just sleep.
The floorboards creaked lightly underfoot as you made your way to stand in front of the fridge, the bright white light bathing your body as you stood there considering your options.
After deliberately scanning the fridge for your snack options, your hands landed on the container of watermelon you’d cut up yesterday. The fridge light disappeared and you leaned against the counter, dim lights from outside filtering in the blinds as you opened the container and pulled a fresh piece out and popped it in your mouth.
The sweet, sugary juice flooded your mouth and you moaned from the bottom of your heart, eyes closed as you savored it and swallowed it down. You stayed like that, eating delicious pieces of watermelon in the dark kitchen for a few minutes, only to be startled by Ray’s voice.
“You thinking about me?”
You jumped and gasped, choking and coughing before you finally swallowed and caught your breath. “Jesus Christ, Ray! I didn’t even hear you come in.”
He frowned remorsefully and his big, strong body closed in on your chubbier one. “I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me?” His hands landed on your waist, face adorned with a cocky grin, knowing that you could never stay mad at him for long.
“Bastard.” Grumbling in defeat, you smiled up at him and met him half way when he leaned in to kiss you.
“Mmhh,” he moaned at the sugary taste of your lips, “is that the watermelon from yesterday?” You nodded and he reached over to grab a piece. “It’s really fuckin’ good.”
Humming in agreement, the two of you stood pressed together, sharing the succulent fruit and soft kisses that soon began to build heat in your lower belly.
Ray’s hands gripped your sides, rough fingertips under your tank top while his tongue danced with yours. Your moan of approval urged him to bend, hook his hands under your ass and lift you up like you weighed nothing at all. He moved between your thick thighs as you hissed at the cold countertop on your skin, but the sound was quickly swallowed by his soft lips.
Your fingers raked through his short hair and you smiled victoriously when he let out a low groan of your name. Ray pulled back and held your face in one hand, thumb smoothing over your lower lip.
“So sweet,” he said, reaching to grab a piece of fruit with his other hand. He held it in front of you, gently gliding the sugary melon across your lips, and you obediently opened your mouth when he nodded his head. “So Juicy.”
His eyes remained glued to yours as he placed the cube in your mouth and firmly pressed it down on your tongue, his fingers digging into the top so that the juice filled your mouth. A groan emulated in your chest and your pussy throbbed as you sucked on his fingers, the sticky sweetness a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes.
With a rough yank his fingers popped out of your mouth and before you could blink, Ray was already carrying you down the hall, hands squeezing you tight enough to leave marks. His eyes caught yours as he crossed into the room, a mix of dominant and playful as he gently tossed you on the bed.
He smirked and winked as he crawled over you and settled between your legs. “Bet you’re gonna taste better than that watermelon, huh?”
Before you could form a response, Ray moved your panties aside and licked a long, wet stripe up your folds. The flat of his tongue lapped at your clit as his fingers slipped inside you and instantly found that sweet spot.
“Oh, Fuck!” Your breath kicked out of your lungs.
Ray just grinned against you and slurped at your pussy like it was an ice cream cone melting on a hot summer day. He moaned and pressed his face further between your legs, ravenously enjoying his midnight snack.
Still in the mood for requests? If so how about some plus size reader x Charlie. Like they are sitting out side and the reader doesn’t want so hurt Charlie by sitting on his lap but he wants them to? Also maybe add a flower crown?
Sure thing sweets
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You’re Not Gonna Hurt Me (Charlie Weasley x Plus-size!Reader)
Warnings: sooooo I’m not plus sized, I’m 5’1 and 103 pounds so idk what’s it’s like to be plus sized but I did my best I hope you like it
Summary: Y/n and Charlie have been going out for 9 months, while relaxing on the weekend Charlie wants her to sit in his lap but she doesn’t want to hurt him.
———————————
Y/n had always been bigger then the other girls at Hogwarts.
Obviously being a teenager obsessed my boys was worried about but ever getting a boyfriend because of her weight.
Thankfully that wasn’t the case cause Charlie Weasley came into her life and was smitten with the Y/h when he first laid eyes on her in their 4th year.
The started going out one year later and had been going strong for almost 9 months now.
It was finally the weekend and Y/n and Charlie could finally relax together after a long week of classes.
“Here put this on” Y/n said setting something on top of her boyfriends head pulling him out of his dragon book.
“What is it?”
“Flower crown I made.” She smiled kissing his cheek.
“Awe thanks sweet heart. Come here baby, sit in my lap.” He said pulling Y/n closer to him.
Y/n shook her head and moved away from him shyly.
“What’s the matter Y/n?”
“Nothing, it’s stupid really.”
“I bet it not, come on tell me.” He leaned his head against her shoulder.
“I don’t wanna hurt you Char. I’m not exactly skinny.” She mumbled pulling her legs up to her chest to hide her face in.
“You’re not gonna hurt me. Come here.” He said pulling her into his lap.
“See? I’m fine.” He kissed Y/n’s cheek before reading his book out loud to her.
Synopsis: You're a little bigger than most girls. Generally you don't care, but sometimes it's a weight on your mind. Cas can't understand why you're so upset.
NOTE: Reader is a half-sibling. Same father (John) but different mother
MASTERLIST
.
Dean startled as Cas touched his shoulder, the angel swooping in unannounced. "Cas," Dean grumbled, putting his glass of whiskey down. "You gotta stop doing that, buddy."
"Apologies," Cas said, tilting his head slightly. "I've come to talk to you about an issue that has arisen with Y/N." Instantly Dean stood straighter, concern and protectiveness carved into every tensed muscle. "I grew concerned with her mental state after she refused to provide a reason as to her depressed nature recently. I took it upon myself to investigate and found her mind filled with negative thoughts about her body and weight. What's wrong?"
Dean sighed, draining his glass of alcohol. He knew what was happening in your head. It was a mindset he and Sam had tried to destroy many times before. Until now, he thought they'd succeeded. "Some girls are very self-conscious," Dean tried to explain. "Y/N's just too harsh on herself sometimes."
"Dean I don't understand. Does she not see that physical appearances do not matter?"
"They do to a lot of people Cas." Dean leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath. "Y/N's always had trouble with accepting herself. Dad was harsh on her about it, always told her that big girls don't run fast enough to escape. He tried to train it out of her but it never really worked. It's just her genetics. Her mother wasn't incredibly tiny and so Y/N isn't either."
Cas nodded and looked down at his hands. "Does she wish to be one of those tiny girls?"
"It's hard to tell," Dean admitted and it pained him to say it. He hated to think that you could be suffering some days and he and Sam would have no idea. He knew you were always hesitant to come to them when you were upset. "I think, deep down, she knows that she's perfect the way she is, but there's been some bad experiences that have stopped her from fully accepting her body."
"I see," Cas murmured.
It was quiet for a little while, Dean pouring himself another glass of whiskey and Cas just contemplating how to help pull you out of your funk. He'd truly never encountered a human with such complex insecurities, and he struggled to understand how you could believe that extra body mass made you less of a person, less of a hunter.
Then you shuffled into the kitchen, wrapped in long baggy sweatpants and a hoodie that was two sized too big. Cas watched you make your way to the fridge and frowned. You looked overly warm, and though the clothes might be comfortable, you still looked slightly miserable.
"Hey kid," Dean greeted, smiling gently. The softness on his face grew sad when you barely reacted to his voice.
Cas dared a peek at your mind. Dean was right, you were struggling to accept who you were. "Y/N," he said, watching you carefully. "I'd like to take you to dinner tonight."
Dean gave him a look, a strange mix between gratitude, disbelief and disagreeance. Cas dismissed the man's concerns, focusing on you instead. "Really?" You said, eyes wide and shocked. "Me?"
"Yes. Somewhere formal where you can dress up."
Something flickered on your face and you deflated slightly, shaking your head. "I'd love to Cas but I can't."
He tilted his head. "Why not?"
"It's a human thing, you wouldn't understand."
"Tell me," he insisted, and something in Dean's expression cleared. The hunter's gaze was less judgemental and more understanding as he understood Cas's plan. "Y/N, you have seemed upset lately. I thought this might cheer you up. I know you used to like putting on a nice dress and going out."
You flushed. "Cas..." you sighed, shook your head. "I'm not the kind of girl you wanna take out to a nice place."
There it was.
Dean stepped forward. "Baby Girl," he murmured but you stepped back.
"It's true," you told him. "Dad always used to say that being a big girl made me a bad hunter."
"Well Dad was an ass and you shouldn't listen. You're an amazing hunter-"
"Please stop," you whispered, hands trembling. "Just...please."
Cas spoke up. "Y/N, I'm not sure you know what I see when I look at you." You glanced at him, briefly shaking your head before looking back down. "When I look at humans, quite often I only see their spirit - their soul. Physical appearances very rarely play a part in what I see. I judge people on their true being."
"So what?"
"Your soul is one of the brightest and most wonderous souls I have ever laid eyes on." Cas stepped forward, and this time, you didn't step away. "You are a good person, a good hunter who has saved many people. Sam and Dean love you deeply, as do many people you meet and befriend. They don't care for your looks or your abilities. They care about you, as a person, as do I."
Tears shone in your eyes, some of the haunted darkness vanishing from your face. "I don't know what to say," you murmured, laughing slightly. "That was...That was exactly what I needed Cas, thank you."
He smiled. "You are welcome. Now, may I take you out to dinner? I would like to see you dressed up."
Grinning, you nodded and stepped forward, giving him a tight hug. He stiffened slightly before hugging back, happy to see that the poisonous, doubting thoughts had disappeared from your mind. You stepped back and beamed up at him before giving Dean a hug as well. The green-eyed hunter, pressed a kiss to the side of your head and whispered something quietly. You giggled.
After you'd rushed off to get ready, Dean turned to the angel standing quietly by the wall. "Thanks man," he rasped. Cas could be imagining it, but those were tears in Dean's eyes. "She-She really needed that. Sam and I, we've never really been able to cheer her up like that. It was an oversight in our part."
"No need to feel guilty, Dean," Cas said. "Sometimes we just have to hear things from people we don't expect to hear things from."
Dean took a long drink of whiskey.
.
You and Cas did go to dinner. You wore a beautiful red dress that hung off your shoulders. Cas had complimented you many times before flying you both to a restaurant a few towns over.
You'd laughed and laughed, and when the night was over, you fell asleep in his shoulders under the stars.
Cas gazed at you and wondered how someone so wonderful and beautiful and good could ever doubt herself so much.
“I need copies, cupcake.” Ransom dropped the files down on the desk, not even getting five feet away when you cleared your throat. “Did you need something?”
“How about a please and thank you?” Your eyes narrowed, and Ransom took the opportunity to drop his gaze to the cut of your dress and the swell of your breasts.
“How about you do your job, marshmallow?” He knew exactly how to get under your skin, the handsome and beautiful Boston native was as cocky as he was rich.
“How about you find yourself another heiress to fuck?” You mumbled under your breath, disdain for your boss evident.
“What was that?” Ransom licked his bottom lip and shoved his hands in his pants pockets, stepping toward you slowly. “Did you say something?”
He watched you stand, your beautiful and deadly curves driving him insane. The way you moved, hell even the way you breathed drove him mental. You were a gorgeous woman with gorgeous curves and single handedly put to shame every statuesque model he dated.
He wanted to die between your thighs.
“If you can’t use decent manners like an actual human being, then you can get forget about me being your secretary.”
Ransom’s lips twitched, a smirk playing on his plump flesh. “You want me to be nice, dumpling?”
“Is that out of your range?”
Ransom approached the desk and sat on the edge, reaching for and playing with one of your pens. “Would you please make copies for me, bunny? Thank you, dumpling. Is that better?”
“A little sarcastic,” you commented and ripped the files from under his ass, “but for someone as emotionally stunted as yourself, it’ll do.”
Characters: Henry Cavill x Plus-size!Latina!Reader
Summary: You and Henry make your first official appearance as a couple at a Red Carpet and Masquerade Ball in London. Ready to kick things up a notch in your love life, in and out of the bedroom, you eagerly agree to wear a butt plug throughout the event in preparation for all the dirty things he’s going to do to you when you get home.
Prompt: “Let’s go to hell, then. Together.” for @fanficocean challenge and Masquerade Ball square fill for @thewitcherbingo
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, implied blowjob, teasing, toys/sex acts in public, anal play: anal fingering, butt plugs, eating ass, anal sex, exactly one (1) use of the word ‘Daddy’.
Word Count: 3k
A/N: I’ve been horny and was craving an anal fic and immediately thought of Henry so voila. Betad by @scarletwinchester84
As you lay sprawled across the couch, feet in Hen’s lap, his hands gently squeezed at your legs. “Are you still sure you want to do this? We don’t have to do all of it, or any of it if you’re not sure about it.”
You shot him a gentle smile and sat up, arms circling his neck as you moved into his lap. “I’m positive. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. I mean, public appearances aren’t exactly my happy place, but I love you and trust you, so I’m ready for all of it.”
Content with your response, his mouth claimed yours, arms holding you to him as he stood from the couch and carried you to the room like you weighed nothing at all. Easing you down onto the bed, Henry’s mouth worked across your jaw to your ear, teeth nipping before he whispered, “Go ahead and get undressed, then, darling.”
In record time you lay naked beneath him, warm beige skin on display, nipples pebbling and core throbbing as he eye-fucked you, let all those dirty thoughts flash in his eyes and taunt you. “Don’t tease me, Henry. I’m already getting enough of that today.”
With an understanding nod, he got right to it, finger pressing at your tight hole as he began to work you open for the first plug of the day. The smallest butt plug would be worn as you prepared for the big night, the second plug would be worn in the car on the way over and through the red carpet and reception, and the last would go in at the ball, to be worn as the night wrapped up and led you home.
“And so it begins,” you half-laughed, half-moaned as soon as the plug was secure.
Henry grinned, eyes alight with cockiness. “And how do you feel about that?”
Your hand smoothed down his chest to his crotch, fingers feeling the outline of his thick cock. “Hmm… I think I need to thank you in advance for everything you’re gonna do to me tonight.”
“I can think of a couple of ways you can… express your gratitude,” he winked, watching with joy as you sank to your knees and licked your lips.
Soon after you sucked the soul out of Henry’s dick, the hair and makeup team and stylists arrived to help the two of you get ready. Being doted on like a celebrity wasn’t something you were used to, but getting made up and pampered was an extravagant distraction from the nerves of making your first official public appearance as a couple.
A couple of hours passed as you went through the special treatment and when you finally saw yourself in the mirror, you about died. Growing up, beauty was only afforded to skinny people, people who looked nothing like you. It had been an insecurity for as long as you remembered, but looking at your reflection, all you saw was beauty. The makeup and dress complemented you perfectly, and for the first time in a very long time you got to enjoy the perks of getting dolled up and putting your best foot forward.
The stylists began to pack up and let you know that Henry was done and waiting for you downstairs. Giddy to see his reaction to your look, you made your way out and carefully descended the stairs. Half way down the staircase, you saw him, jaw literally dropped open as his bright eyes took you in. He laughed, sweet and honest, gleaming with pride and love, the awe on his face making you fight back tears.
“Okay, okay, stop looking at me like that. You’re gonna make me cry and ruin it,” you warned as you got to the bottom of the stairs and walked over to him.
Everyone laughed and he cleared his throat, stepping up to you with a tamed smile. “Remember the deal?”
Your smokey dark eyes narrowed up at him, only breaking contact when your makeup artists and stylists called to let you know they had finished cleaning up and were leaving. As soon as they were out of the room you punched him lightly in the chest, knocking laughter out of the two of you.
“Is that dress easy to bend in?”
You nodded. Though the dress clung to your body, it was easy to move in, easy to take off; that was part of the reason you ended up choosing this dress for tonight.
“Good. Shall we?” He watched with a filthy grin as you obliged. “Are you ready for the next one, love?”
Thick fingers slid the dress up over your hips, hooked into your underwear and massaged the globes of your ass. A nod was all you could give him in response when his thumbs spread your cheeks to fully expose the heart shaped plug nestled there.
Heart pounding in your chest and pussy, you did your best to remain still as his fingers plucked at the base of the plug, gently working your tight hole with it. The smallest plug popped free and you let out a hungry groan, needy for more.
“Patience, love. It’s right here. Just need to get you ready for it,” he cooed, lube-covered fingers gently pressing into your hole. The pressure lured a moan as he worked you open and began to press the medium sized plug into your ass. The moment the second plug slipped in, Henry pulled you up and spun you around, mouth claiming your neck in a frenzy.
“Fuck, Hen,” you whined, hips grinding against his fingers as one of his hands shoved your dress to keep it up and the other rubbed through your wet folds. Your pussy throbbed and your fingers were lost in the luscious curls atop his head, his teeth biting sharply down on your pulse point. A loud squeal burst from your lips and he laughed deeply, moving his face out of your neck enough for you to see the mischief in his eyes.
“Neck was safer than ruining your lipstick, right?”
All you could do was roll your eyes as he grinned and left you to right yourself again. When you were ready the two of you gathered your things and left for the limo waiting just outside. The ride was tense, anticipation of the red carpet and the rest of the night to come made you slightly uneasy, knee bouncing where you sat at Henry’s side.
“Nervous?” Henry’s voice startled you a bit as it broke the silence.
Being in the public eye and the center of attention wasn’t your favorite, especially at your weight. Scrutiny and harsh words were already hurled your way at the mere speculation that Henry could be linked to you romantically, but you knew that he had your back. That he loved you just the way you were and would never stop defending you.
“A bit,” you answered honestly, releasing a breath before smirking his way. “Though, I am pretty excited to get back home.”
Henry dropped your hand and found your thigh, giving it a squeeze as he winked. “We’ve still got one more to go, remember,” he reminded you, holding up your clutch where the third and largest plug lay waiting.
“How could I forget?”
-----
As you stepped out of the car, flashing lights blinded you and left you disoriented and clinging to Henry’s side. His assistant, Brendan, and a flock of event staff soon surrounded the two of you, leading you onto a red carpet.
Henry held you close, big hands reassuring you as he leaned in and said, “You can stay with me the whole time if you’d like, or you can wait with Brendan during the interviews. I’m happy with whatever you decide.”
You shot him a nod and painted on your prettiest smile as you walked the carpet to the first photo stop. Brendan and the staff continued and waited as you and Henry posed as a couple for the first time in public. Photographers called out for you both, shouting both direction and questions about your relationship. The noise and flashing lights immediately jump-started your anxiety and, as if he knew what you were thinking, your boyfriend took a deep breath and wrapped his arm around your waist, turning you to him.
A gentle smile helped you to relax and the world disappeared when he leaned down and kissed you, tame enough not to ruin your lipstick but firm enough to offer you love and comfort as you shared your love with the world.
Beaming up at him, your hand pushed through his curls and you pressed another quick kiss to his lips before coming back to earth. Everything was a blur and the only thing you could focus on was Henry. Your hand remained clasped tightly, safely, within his large one as he led down the carpet to the first interview.
When Brendan ushered him forward, you dropped his hand and took a step back, letting him do his interview as you watched from the sidelines with the team. You stood and watched as he spoke with charm and ease, politely thanking everyone before coming back to you.
At the next photo stop and interview he let you go when your grip on his hand loosened, but at the last interview his grip grew tighter, and you realized he wasn’t going to let you sit this one out.
The reporter smiled widely as he approached, and her eyes immediately flew to you, signaling something to the videographer as you arrived at their station.
“Hello, sir. Henry you look wonderful,” she greeted, letting him thank her before continuing. “And who might this lovely woman be?”
Clearing your throat, you leaned in and she moved her mic from Henry’s face to yours. “I’m Y/n L/n, Henry’s girlfriend.”
Henry looked down at you affectionately, watching as your nervous smile grew into an excited one. It was out. It was official. Not that you and Henry hadn’t been committed to one another already, but now it was a public affair. Excitement, relief, and a small rush of adrenaline kicked through your system, the heat of Hen’s hand against yours telling you that he felt the same.
All of your worst case scenarios flashed through your mind, but to your surprise, the reporter in front of didn’t sling a backhanded compliment at you. Instead, she smiled a genuine smile and congratulated Henry on landing a woman as beautiful as you. Brain scrambling to catch up, you only caught on in the middle of his sentence.
“-she’s fantastic, and loyal, and truly sincere. I’m a very lucky man to have her at my side,” he gushed, smiling down at you as you hid your gummy smile behind your hand.
“And there you have it, Superman is officially off the market. Have a gorgeous night, lovebirds,” she said cheerfully, shaking yours and Henry’s hand as her time ended.
As Brendan and the event staff surrounded and led you to the entrance of the building, you and Henry deflated and shared laughter, leaning into one another, happy that the public display was all over. Brendan handed you both your masquerade masks and you helped each other put them on, the leather covering his face leaving you melting as he delicately secured your own diamond mask to your face.
Once directed to the main ballroom, you spent the next hour mingling with celebs and socialites, drinking expensive champagne and wine, and snacking on hors d’oeuvres. You were dragged to the dance floor for a couple of songs before Henry secretly led you away, up a red velvet staircase to a private balcony that overlooked the entire ballroom.
“Wow,” you gasped, looking over the railing at the crowd below.
His chest met your back, lips dropping to your shoulder as he said, “It’s time.”
Sucking in a breath, you turned and handed him your clutch, watching in anticipation as he retrieved the final plug and a sample packet of lube. He gently turned you toward the railing, heavy hand pushing your shoulders forward until you were leaning over, elbows on the rail and ass on display for him.
Smoothing your dress up and underwear down, thick hands splayed your cheeks. A single fingertip swirled around the base of the plug, working the outer muscle before finally wiggling the plug free.
Even with the sound of the ball you could still hear his groan of approval as your empty asshole fluttered around nothing, a slight gape inviting him in. His tongue sent a zap of shock and arousal through you when it met your puckered hole. Face pressing into your ass, Henry’s mouth worshiped your hole, fucked in and out and left you writhing in pleasure.
As the room below you swirled in lively bliss, Henry doted on your ass and slid the final plug into you, watching in awe at the way you gave in to the stretch and burn.
“Jesus Christ, Henry, I don’t know how long I can keep going. I-I might come,” you panted as his mouth worked up your spine to your ear.
“No you won’t. You’re too perfect.” His words caught you off guard and his eyes tenderly caressed your face. “I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. I’m so thankful you’ve let me love you.”
You were engulfed in his arms a moment later, and you lean into him that much harder, small hands grabbing at his big back. A moment passed and he pulled back just enough to catch your lips on his, lick his way into your mouth and share the moment with you. Before you could get too carried away, his lips broke away and left you practically begging for more.
He watched in amusement as you let out a needy whine, your eyes going wide at something behind him. Curiously, he turned and found the offending object, a portrait of Jesus on the Cross painted on the wall above the private booth you’d just defiled.
“Oh my God, I’m going to hell,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.
Henry laughed darkly, voice deep enough to leave butterflies in your stomach. “Let’s go to hell, then. Together.”
On the brink of a horny death, you let out a guttural groan of arousal and let him whisk you down to the ballroom again. Moving in his arms, he led you around the dance floor in a passionate rhythm, the tension finally pushing him to say his goodbyes and take you back home.
In the back of the limo, you couldn’t keep yourselves apart. Barely able to breathe, the two of you refused to slow down, just kissing and grinding together that much deeper. Heat grew between you, left you hot and had Henry already getting sweaty. By the time you stumbled out of the car back at his house, your hair and makeup were a mess.
In record time, you were slung over his shoulder and marched into the house, only set down when you were half way into the large living room. Big hands wrapped around your wrists, stopping your efforts to rid him of his suit before you could even try.
“Go to the room and get comfortable, I’ll be right in.”
Rushing to the bedroom, you took a minute to take off the smudged makeup and let your hair down before sitting at the edge of the bed. Sure enough, a minute later Henry appeared, already down to his pants and boxers. Finally stripping out of both, his thick cock sprung free, and he spit down on his shaft before shooting you a dirty grin. Stroking his cock as he approached, you crawled backward up his bed, stopping in the middle while he stood at the foot, eyes tenderly dragging along your naked body.
“You’re so gorgeous, Y/n,” he sighed earnestly.
A blush warmed your cheeks as he climbed up and walked on his knees, pushing your legs open to fit himself between your thick thighs. Heat cloaked you as he dropped his chest against yours and kissed the breath out of you, hips grinding his hard dick through your wet lips.
“Want me to fuck this wet pussy before we get to that glorious ass?”
His deep, throaty voice made you shiver and moan, head shaking side to side. “Fuck my ass, Daddy. Wanna feel you there.”
Henry groaned and kissed you roughly, tongue dominating yours as he made his way down your body, stopping to pay attention to each russet hued nipple before landing between your shapely thighs. He didn’t spend long laving at your wet pussy, but by the time his talented mouth left your body you were on the edge of an orgasm.
When you were instructed to turn over, you settled on all fours, gently shaking your ass up at Henry. He rewarded you with a few slaps, strong hands massaging the warm flesh before he found the base of the plug and worked it free.
Before you could beg for him, his fat tip was pressed against your hole, the lubed skin slowly pushing at your entrance.
“Tell me you want me.”
A needy moan fell from your lips at the rasp of his voice, and instead of giving him a proper answer, you pressed your hips back against his, swallowing his thick tip with your tight hole. Henry grunted and gripped your hips, too enamored by the way you felt to reprimand you. All he could do was move, pull you back as he pushed forward, and hiss as your body sucked him in to the hilt in one long, wet stroke.
“Oh fuck!” Your body writhed and shook as his hips met your ass, the pleasure and build up finally consuming you in ecstasy.
Words of encouragement and slaps to your ass filled the air as you worked yourself on his dick, pussy fluttering around nothing and asshole clamping down on him as you cried out like a whore, ass filled with his cock and your dark hair tangled in his hands.
“That’s it, sweetheart.”
He bucked hard against you, sturdy thighs clapping loudly against the back of yours with each thrust. Your body swayed with his movements and his teeth landed on your shoulder as he fucked you raw and nasty, fingers toying with your clit to make sure you kept on cumming the rest of the night through.
