#plus-size!reader

used a pic from how to murder your wife, but the other girls are plus size!

Titus can't stand to be away from you for too long, even when duty calls. Across the gala, your attention is currently being taken up by some Governor, and you look less than impressed.

Before long, he excuses himself from his own conversation, and starts moving in large strides.

"Oh, Mr. Danforth-" The Governor begins, but he's cut off by Titus wrapping an arm around your waist, and pulling you in for a deep kiss.

He's never had a problem with PDA, but it reaches a whole other level when he's impatient or jealous. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, and you find yourself sighing into his touch.

After an inappropriately long time, Titus finally pulls back, leaning his forehead against yours. He doesn't even glance at the Governor, but his next words are directed at him. "If you'll excuse us-"

“With a dress like that, you like a real woman-” His gruff statement is cut short when your hand slams into his chest, a cheap blow before you smooth your hands down the front of your dress.

“And you’re still a horses’ ass.” You hissed at Colin, aggressively shooting him a hasty glare. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I am funny,” he grins and looks you over, his blue eyes familiarizing themselves with the cut of your form in your gown, “are you vying for the prince?”

“He’s searching for a bride, not an ox.” You snidely degrades yourself, wincing when he pinched your arm. “Besides, why have a prince when I have an ass to take care of?”

“You’re beautiful,” Colin chided you, and then exhaled slowly, “Blue-bird I have to tell you something.”

“You think I look good?” You pondered, adjusting the cut of your dress as best as possible in an attempt to hide the bumps and curves you weren’t always so proud of.

You weren’t a delicate fairy nor a graceful ballerina. You were a woman with an overabundance of curves, heavier breasts and an ass that couldn’t always be hidden by the layers of your dress.

“The prince is going to choose a bride! This is so exciting, Colin!” You beamed and grabbed his arm, trying to see over the crowds forming as the King stepped into view.

“No one’s seen the prince in 23 years.” Colin drew in a shaky breath and slowly turned to face you. “He isn’t supposed to appear until he finds a bride.”

“Its exciting-“ your arms were grasped and your best friend that you’d ran through the village with for years upon years, bent down on one knee.

One or the other shows up to Reader’s dorm because she got into a fight with all of them. City Girl won’t talk to them and she won’t come home, they need to bring her home but she keeps shutting them out

The billowing skirts of the guests that had come and gone from the halls had been delicately crafted and created with ease and lightness that made those same women look as if they were physically floating across the detailed floor. You had watched them with enticing envy for their ability to steal glances from across the room and sweep hearts out from men’s chests with little thought. It was with that kind of envious draw that made you look at the dress you were wearing with subjugation.

There was no fine lace, there were no deep cuts and details that would have accentuated your waist, the only added benefit you had for being a woman with greater curves and density was the curvature of your breasts that were held by reinforced boning channels that had felt as if they were going to steal your breath.

You were hardly the woman any man had wanted and when it came to trying to find suitors for yourself, your father would have rather found another man for your brother to marry than yourself.

“We will find someone.” In the ways of this bitter trial to find a future husband, your mother and father had focused on pawning you off to men who would get a healthy sum of money, just to take you off their hands. “There’s plenty of men who are looking for…someone…like you.”

Your mother had declared herself a woman of intrigue and beauty, a woman who had stolen your father’s heart with enough power to make him leave his first wife for her. And their marriage had resulted in two children, your brother and yourself.

Unlike you, your mother was a beautiful and charming woman with a slender waist and the youthfulness that still clung to her despite being upwards of age. She conducted herself with an air of sophistication anywhere she had went and with her charm had come a great social circle that granted both her and your father with acquaintances.

Your brother was just as charming and just as attractive as both your parents were, and with his charm and charisma had come a great number of women fawning over him. He had an air of bravado and witticism that followed him, drawing many people to himself with easement.

You were the odd one out, you were the one who had seemingly not belonged to your family.

You were a woman who was quiet, demure yes, but only because you were made to be. You would never willingly attend parties for the sake of being social, you would rather spend hours in the library reading or in the garden admiring the beauty of nature. You had taken it upon yourself to be your own entertainment and friend.

“There are so many beautiful women here,” your brother had beamed when he arrived at the party, eager to spend the late hours of the party tucked away in some corner with a maid’s nipples in his mouth, “and then there’s you.”

Your hands ran traced the corset of your dress, eyes sweeping across the floor. No one had sought you out to dance, no one had sought you out for conversations or marriage.

You would be doomed to the brothel the moment your mother and father had gotten sick of you.

“No one wants a woman like you.”

Courtships and arranged marriages were all proper society had known, women who had no prospects were what the brothels craved.

“Your mother wanted me to inform you,” your father cornered you at the ball, his eyes spiteful and narrowed, “that we’ve both secured you in a marriage. Two poor fools have declared their intent to marry you.”

“Me?”

“A dowry was declined.” Your father seemed relived, and then boastful. “The men have given us a great sum to get rid of you.”

“Father-“

“You won’t be a whore at a brothel, but a whore in the marriage bed. Congratulation, daughter. There was a purpose for you after all.”

It was the rip and the buzzing of the motor that had piqued your interest from upstairs. It had stalled your current task of decorating the interior of your shared house, and generally left the task abandoned when you started down the stairs.

Your feet carried you down the stairs to the front door, and though the screen you could see Andy and Curtis standing on the front lawn off to the left, the hum and rumble of the sharp tool reverberating in your ears.

Curiosity stirred you, and you had pushed the door open and stepped onto the porch, studying their shared creativity displayed across the lawn. Together, Andy and Curtis had laid out carved and fake pumpkins to like the driveway and they’d strung massive fake spiders against the siding of the house, and trees.

“You know how to use that thing?” Andy’s voice draws you further outside, and you follow the sound of them speaking and the power tool.

“Better than you could.” Curtis answers curtly and revs the chainsaw, the blade and the teeth spinning as he presses it against a thick stump of wood.

“What are you two doing?” You question your two boyfriends and step in behind Andy, his hand instinctively keeping you from moving forward.

“Decorating, baby.” Andy’s voice is firm, mildly confused as he looks at Curtis. “Don’t know what he’s doing-“

“I’m carving a stump, what’s it look like?” Curtis scoffs and angles the blade of the chainsaw, cutting and carving the side until it begins to resemble a spindly limb.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” You admired his artwork, admiring the way he turned the stump into a kind of artificial and creepy looking appendage.

“I thought art was beneath you.” Andy quipped, an appreciation building on the tip of his tongue.

“It has its places.” Curtis stops for a minute and stands back to admire his work with the saw, the wood carved and gnawed at until it resembled a man stuck in the stump with only two arms visible beneath the roughened bark.

“That looks amazing!” You praised Curtis with excitement, your eagerness to turn your entire lawn into a Halloween hotspot was aided by the two who had just as eagerly wanted to celebrate.

“All that’s missing is a ghost puppy,” Andy quipped halfheartedly, stirring Curtis’ steely glare and your cautious questioning.

“You’re joking? Or…Are you serious?” You wouldn’t have allowed yourself the optimism in case or stark disappointment.

“Babe,” Curtis called for you, stealing your attention from Andy, “can you head to the shed and grab the extension cord? I’m gonna need it for the other side.”

“Sure…” you stepped away from the two of them, side-eying Andy suspiciously. “I’ll be right back.”

Silence had come between them until Curtis heard the shed door open, and then he had reached out and punched Andy’s arm.

“You promised-“ Curtis seethed, his jaw clenching.

“I slipped, fuck! I’m sorry-“

“Everything okay?” You stepped back around the side of the house, looking between the two of them.

The feel of rainwater hitting your shoulders had delivered a rather cold shock straight to your system and it had been an inevitable shiver that had made your blind date aware of your current state. He had looked you over with a speculative gaze, his blue eyes shrouded with something familiar before he had stepped closer to you and slipped his left arm around your waist pulling you into his side.

His chest was impossibly warm as he pulled you in, the faint scent of smoke and burning wood hit your nose in a subtle aroma that made you want to inch even closer than you already were. It was the warmth of his chest and his body against yours, it was his natural scent and the catatonic draw of his eyes that had truly stolen your breath from your very lungs.

“I’m sorry-“

“You’re cold.” He had mumbled and there was a gentle tap against your back that was followed by the immediate stop to the rain that had been soaking you. “You’re going to get sick.”

he was gruff, he had been gruff when you had first sat down and you were unexpectant when he had looked you over with speculation. You had expected him, like other dates you’d been on, to turn you down harshly with a bitter comment about your curves and your size that you can come to love after so many years of self-doubt.

Instead of the bitter disgust, after the moments of silent studying inflicted upon you, your dragon shifter date had smirked at you and offered you an intensely heated compliment that made you hyperaware of how he was looking at you like he wanted to feast on you. He had looked at you with such hunger and desire, it was impossible to doubt yourself.

“Thank you,” you shivered against him, your hands clutching the darkk grey shirt he had tucked under a leather jacket, no longer cold but impossibly hot, “the date went good. Better than the others.”

“Let me take you home.” His gruff voice had been a turn on, more than you were willing to admit to, and when he had slid his hand down to the curve of your ass you had squeaked his name with a pooling of heat between your thighs.

“And if i don’t want to go home?” You whispered, your gaze held by his.

“If I take you to my home, I’m not letting you go.” Curtis had leaned in, his lips grazing yours. “Once i have you, you’re never leaving.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” His arm tightened around you, and he had only let go when the cab had pulled up to the curb and even then he held you in his gaze.

Azriel x Plus-size!reader

Summary: Sometimes when you're surrounded by slender figures and petite bodies it can get to your head but luckily your mate is there to support you.

Warnings: no smut but some suggestive and vulgar-is language so 16+

A/N: This is my first ever fic! Right now I'll probably stick to writing only ACoTaR stuff but I'm open to experimenting with other fandoms as well. Hope you enjoy this blurb, I feel like I can never relate to the reader in a lot of fics so I wrote something that is inspired a bit by me and my thoughts:)

Rays of sun flitted throughout your bedroom through the half-open curtains, disrupting the peaceful darkness that surrounded you. Part of you wished you could have been woken up a much more pleasurable way, with Azriel smothering you with his love, however the shadowsinger had left early in the morning to train with Cassian. God sometimes you wanted to throttle the general for dragging your mate out of bed with you so early in the morning.

Groaning you rose out of bed and made your way to the bathroom to make yourself look somewhat presentable for the rest of the inner circle. While Feyre and Mor rose out of bed looking like they just had been kissed by the gods, your bed-head and puffy eyes made it look like you were the crazy-cat lady of Velaris. Avoiding looking in the mirror as you combed through the knots in your hair, your thoughts returned once more to the high lady and her friends.

It wasn't fair. How could Feyre and the rest of the perfect women in the night court have tight toned bodies and stunning faces while you were stuck with your annoyingly huge thighs, thick arms, round face, and big belly? As much as you loved him your mate didn't do anything to help your thoughts of self-deprecation. Azriel was truly sculpted by the gods, the most beautiful creature you ever set your eyes on. It was hard to ignore some of the stares you two attracted while walking through velairs, many of the young women looking confused as they beheld Azriel walking with you. If anything, his beauty standing right next to you brought out more of your flaws, although Azriel would insist on you being the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

Getting dressed you opted for a simple pair of leggings and a sweater, the autumn breeze bringing a chill to Velaris. Walking out of the room, you made your way up to the roof to behold your glorious mate clashing swords with Cassian. Mor, Feyre, and Nesta were already lounging on the chairs, the two sisters oggoling the two powerful bodies moving in front of them. Shirtless and sweaty slicked bodies. You desperately tried to let on how much Azriel was affecting you, to not feed into the Illyrians ego too much more.

Instead, you focused on making your way over to the women, noticing their much more form fitting clothes that accented their curves and each wore a color that brought out their eyes. Next to them you  looked lost, like you were in no way supposed to be there next to the three goddesses. You started to regret coming up when finally the two Illyrians finished their sparring, making their way over. Azriel looked to you, attempting to make eye contact but you averted your eyes which were desperately trying not to cry. Feelings of worry and concern flowed down the bond, softly caressing your mental shields. Sighing, knowing that he would discover your insecurities sooner or later you let him in, showing him the hundreds of moments you felt unworthy of him. You showed you standing in front of the wretched mirror in your room, trying to suck in your stomach and experimenting which stance would lessen your chubbiness.

Immediately he grabbed you and shot into the air, flying you to the balcony that was attached to your room, holding you so tightly to him you thought you might pop. Distantly you heard Cassian’s roaring laugh, probably assuming you two had promptly left to go have sex. Landing you hurried inside, not wanting to meet the shadowsingers hazel eyes.

“Why haven't you told me about these feelings my love?”, Azriel asked, hurt swirling in his eyes at the self hatred he felt from the other side of the bond. Your heart squeezed at the softness lining his voice. Shaking you sat on the comforter of your bed, Azriel following suit.

“It’s just- how can you bear to be with me when we are constantly surrounded by all these slender and beautiful women? Maybe not now but eventually you're going to tire of me, of this”, I said motioning at my plump figure.  

Azriel got up and did something he had never done before. He kneeled. He kneeled in front of his mate, the woman whom he thought was a goddess the moment he saw her. Azriel couldn't comprehend the hatred filled thoughts that clouded his mates mind.

“I love you. Exactly the way you are, how the Mother made you.” He raised a hand to wipe away the tears that had begun to slide down your face.

“ I will never tire of you, ever. You are the only woman that has touched my heart in the way you do. And if you allow me, I'll spend every second of the rest of our lives worshiping this beautiful body, the body that belongs to the person I love the most in the world.”

Azriel had confessed his love to you before, but never like this. Never had been so vulnerable to you, his hands trembling as they held the back of your calves.

Rising up to his full height, he offers his hand to you, and taking it he leads you to the mirror.

“Look at yourself Y/N.” Azriel softly commands, your gaze raising to you body in the mirror, leaning against Azriel’s powerful one.

Bringing a hand to the top of your thighs, Azriel starts dissecting his love for your body. “I love these. I love your thighs, especially when they jiggle whike you walk or when they jiggle while I’m fucking you.” At that my cheeks are stained red as I struggle to maintain eye contact with him.

“I love your stomach and hips. There's so much to hold as you ride me or while we are walking in Velaris. I love how soft it is when I rest in your lap, it’s like my own personal pillow.” Now tears are flowing freely down your face as you behold the lovesick eyes of your mate.

His hands travel up to your breasts, which are in no way as full as the rest of you and don’t sit as many others do. “These will be the death of me,” Azriel’s hands covering each entirely as he struggles to not take of your bra and worship your breasts for hours.

“So soft and theres nothing as enrapturing as how they bounce as I fuck you,” he says, all while maintaining our eye contact. His love is surrounding me as I turn around to meet him face to face.

“I love you, and I will never stop telling you how much I adore you and your body. You look straight out of a painting, and I never want you to think that you are unworthy of me. If anything I am the unworthy one. You are painstakingly pure while I have committed atrocities, but you have taught me to love myself and now I am returning the favor.” Azriel places his hands on my face and I turn slightly to place a soft kiss on his palm.

Leaning forward he softly places his lips onto mine, without a rush, without any urge to take it farther. My chest feels like it will combust from love as I kiss the magnificent man in front of you. As I continue kissing him I know these thoughts won’t magically go away but with Azriel by my side I can start to heal.

Taking my hand, he leads me back to the bed, a mischievous glint now returning to his eyes as he lies me down.

“Let me show you how perfect you are,” he says as he begins raising my shirt to place soft kisses, leading them downwards to where heat is beginning to pool in my stomach.