Jungkook With A Chubby Girlfriend !

Jungkook with a chubby girlfriend !

Pairing : Idol!Jungkook x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Warnings : Nsfw headcanons after the sfw, I will include another warning though.

Ta3baee notes : Part two here! Reblogs are very much appreciated <3 Minors dni! I’m not responsible for what you consume on the internet. If you feel like you’ve seen this post before it’s because you did! I accidentally deleted my account ‘ta3bae’ (one e) and with it all my posts, sooo consider this a repost ??

SFW !

• He’s absolute putty for your stretch marks !

• He’d name each while tracing over them with his finger.

• Jungkook would definitely cup your tummy while back hugging you.

• This man would FOLD if you wear tight dresses, he loves how much they hug and define your curves.

• He’d definitely show you off to his friends, making you sit in his lap when there’s an event/party going on and he wants to sit it out.

• He’d squish your squishy cheeks to make your lips pucker and kiss them.

• He’d make you meals when you feel down and eat with you.

• If you feel like wanting to lose weight, he’d help you lose it in a healthy way! He’d make you nutritious food and snacks.

• He’d love going to the gym with you and wearing matching gym clothes.

• I feel like he’d be very protective over you, so if someone were to make a comment or look at you in the wrong way, he’d ask them to take a walk but if they don’t he’d bring the guns ( 💪🏻)

• He’d purposely get you clothes a bit smaller because he loves seeing you body but he also loves when you wear his oversized clothes that just eat you up.

Nsfw below, do not proceed if it’s not to your

liking!

NSFW !

• While in missionary, he’d grab a hold of your tummy and squeeze while he’s thrusting into you.

• He loves doggy style, the sight of his dick disappearing inside you and your ass giggling makes him whine.

• If you get insecure when he wants you to sit on his face, he just grabs your thighs and manhandles you so you’re above him.

• When you’re close to cumming, and he knows cuz you’d tighten around him even more, he’d lean into your ear “does my big girl wanna cum? Hmm?” ( GRAJJJ)

• When 69ing he’d prefer you on top that way he can spread you and lick a long thick strip from your clit to your entrance, even going as far as to tease your ass (if ur into anal)

• If you surprise him with wearing lingerie, he’d instantly get hard at the sight of your thighs spilling over the knee socks.

• He’d definitely hand cuffs you to the bed post and use a bar spreader just to sit and watch as you cum around the vibrating dildo over and over.

• In other words, he’s obsessed with your pussy. He could spend days down there, and the way your thunder thighs wrap around him? 😮‍💨

Making Tamales with Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x FemaleReader

Summary: You make the first batch of tamales for the season with Miguel.

Word Count: 1,909

Warnings: Reader knows or at least understands Spanish; Reader knows how to make tamales; Miguel talks in Spanish a bit but translations will be provided at the end (italicized); teasing and smug Miguel; It's alluded Miguel and reader did it at the end

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As soon as Miguel feels the first chill of the season, he tells you it’s time to make tamales. You agree with him, of course, so the two of you plan an afternoon to make them. Miguel and you prep the kitchen. You have all the ingredients and supplies out from the leaves to the masa, the filling that the two of you prepped, and other items like the big pot where they’ll be cooked.

Miguel takes charge of preparing the masa. It only seems right as his large hands can get it just right and much quicker than you and your smaller hands. Of course, it also helps that this man is like a walking furnace, which means his warmth is perfect to help the melted lard mix in with the masa. His playlist is playing in the background, which is composed of music that he grew up listening to and that will help keep both of your spirits up as you make the tamales because he knows how exhausting it can get after twenty minutes of working. Thankfully, he has upbeat songs like those from Joan Sebastian such as “Tatuajes,” Bronco’s “Que No Quede Huella,” and Los Angeles Azules’s “Como Te Voy a Olvidar.” You notice Miguel bopping his head as he prepares the masa, his lips moving as he sings silently to the songs, which you can’t blame him for because he’s playing iconic bops.

Meanwhile, you prepare the leaves. You soak them in warm water in a large bowl, making sure to sink them with your hands so the top ones get covered, too. You dump the water out a few times, making sure the leaves are clean before you leave them to fully soak. You prep the pot and the containers you’ll be putting the tamales in as you make them before you put them in the pot.

At last, Miguel tells you the masa is ready so the two of you start. You’ve seen other methods on social media, but Miguel and you stick to the traditional method using spoons. The two of you take a seat and start and well, this is where the peace starts fading because the two of you start to get competitive. If you grew up making tamales with all your family pitching in to help “para terminar más pronto,” you know how competitive it can get with who prepares the most leaves. And of course, for you and Miguel, it’s no exception as you both grew up competing with your relatives.

Neither of you say it but you can tell. Miguel casually looks at the stack of leaves with masa you have ready. He grins to himself, knowing that he has at least three more than you when he looks at his taller stack. You notice his grin and force yourself to hide a frown, thinking it’s unfair. With his large hand, Miguel can cover more ground. He doesn’t have to turn the leaf on his hand so many times like you to cover the same amount of space even if the leaf is the same size.

You speed up, casually, of course. You don’t want to tip Miguel off. You want to win this, even though it’s silly, especially when you see his little grin like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“With this speed we’ll be done in no time, preciosa,” he says, trying to sound neutral but oh, you know when Miguel is teasing and he’s definitely teasing you right now.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing that will only give him more satisfaction. So instead, you nod and smile.

“I hope so. You know how the first batch of the season always hits different,” you reply as you pick up another leaf and quickly grab a spoonful of the masa. Your movements are fast and experienced as you spread the masa over the leaf evenly, but it still takes you double the time it takes Miguel to get one done.

And you’re not as slick as you think you are. Neither of you are. You both know you’re in an unofficial competition with each other now. The playlist Miguel has playing in the background is kind of forgotten at this point even when a song that you both enjoy is playing. You’re both focused on beating each other, though Miguel isn’t really worried, and you can tell. He feels so comfortable with his progress that he slows down, preparing the leaves in a calmer manner, unlike you.

It just makes him grin as he steals glances at you. And just when it looks like you’re about to tie up with him, Miguel picks up the speed again, whistling as he does so to whatever song is on now. It gets on your nerves, but you keep a neutral face despite knowing he’s doing it to annoy you. You pick up another leaf and grab a spoonful of the masa once again, wincing as the spoon makes contact with the finger you’ve been supporting it with this whole time. You can already feel the skin tender and sore, a sign that tomorrow you’ll have a full-on blister if not by tonight before you go to bed.

Miguel’s eyebrows furrow as he notices you wince. He puts his leaf and spoon down and walks around the table to you. You continue to spread the masa over the leaf, still trying to beat him when he takes your hand, the one that’s been holding the spoon the entire time. You begin to protest but he hushes you as he leans forward, bringing your hand to his face. You sigh agitated and look at him. Miguel is looking at your finger before he rubs his thumb over the sored area gently. He meets your eyes and gives you a small grin as he does so.

“How about I take care of the rest, preciosa? You can start on the filling with what we have already,” he suggests quietly.

You’re about to decline but he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing the tender and sore skin of your finger, while meeting your eyes. You shut up and sigh. You’re competitive but you know when to admit defeat. You nod.

“Fine. I’ll do the filling,” you mutter and retrieve your hand after he kisses your finger again.

“Muy bien,” Miguel replies, giving you a grin and kissing your cheek before he returns to his spot.

So, you finish making the tamales by putting the filling in them as Miguel finishes using the masa. And yes, you’re a little upset. Just because you know when to admit defeat doesn’t mean you aren’t a little sored about it. You always beat your relatives growing up, so you’re not used to losing this competition.

After putting the tamales in the pot together, Miguel and you clean the kitchen. You head to the living room and lie down on one of the couches once you’re done with your part, knowing it’s going to be about an hour before the tamales are ready. You turn on the tv, still feeling upset as you switch channels. Not long after, Miguel walks out of the kitchen drying his hands with a towel since he volunteered to wash dishes, which just made you feel crappy because he always volunteers to wash dishes to spare your hands from the harsh dish soap but especially today due to your sored finger; his kindness is like salt to the wound, and yeah, maybe you’re being a little dramatic but who cares.

He approaches you, throwing the towel over his shoulder before he stands behind the couch. He peers down at you, noticing the pout as you switch channels, and grins. He knows you’re sored over losing even if it was a friendly competition. He leans down on the couch and caresses your face with the back of his hand.

“Sigues enojada, preciosa?” he asks in a whisper.

Your pout becomes more noticeable as you turn to look up at him, meeting his red eyes. You stare at him, unable to stop yourself from feeling a little breathless at the sight of his face. You cuss internally because it’s so unfair for this man to look this good after making tamales. Some strands of hair hang over his forehead and he has a bit of powder flour on his cheek from when he was first prepping the masa. You lift your hand to his face and wipe it off gently.

“I wasn’t upset,” you reply, clearly lying, as you retrieve your hand from his face but Miguel grabs it before it’s away from his reach. He brings it to his face.

“Ah, okay,” he answers with a grin. “That’s good to hear. I thought you were a little sore back then. And not just from your finger.”

You snatch your hand from his grip and turn away from him, facing the tv and ignoring him. Miguel chuckles lightly at your reaction, clearly amused. He walks around the couch to the front and before you can protest, Miguel is over you. He has no problem moving you to his liking, placing you between his legs before he lies down on you.

“Miguel! Seriously?” you say trying to move but your efforts are useless when it comes to Miguel, who settles on top of you with ease. You sigh annoyed even though you’re in no discomfort because Miguel knows exactly how to position himself to avoid crushing you.

So, you just lay underneath him and turn your face to the tv as an effort to at least ignore him, though that’s a very challenging task because the man is on top of you and now his mouth is on your neck, peppering your skin with kisses.

“Andale, preciosa. Don’t be upset with me. We have a whole hour before the tamales are ready. You can’t avoid me. You can’t even leave the house. You know the rule. We both put the tamales in the pot, and you know what they say,” Miguel says, planting a kiss on your neck at the end of each sentence. “No queremos tamales pintos, verdad?”

You try very hard to ignore him but his warm breath, his lips on your neck, the weight of his body over yours keeping you in place always does something to you. And Miguel knows it. So, he uses it to his advantage. He continues to kiss your neck, eventually escalating to biting your neck gently, which instantly has you closing your eyes and whimpering underneath him.

Needless to say, the tamales weren’t the only thing that got a filling, and thankfully the two of you remembered to check on them once the hour passed by. You concluded the evening by eating some delicious tamales, definitely needing the energy after so much work.

As the two of you eat tamales, Miguel leans closer to your face and pecks your cheek.

“The first batch of the season definitely hits different,” he whispers with a grin, causing you to roll your eyes at him but now that you have food in your system and took out your annoyance on him, you grin back.

“I don’t know how but I’m beating you next time. So be ready,” you answer.

“Preciosa, I’ll help you win as long as I get to have you and tamales at the end.”

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Translation for italicized words: Masa - dough para terminar más pronto - to finish sooner preciosa - beautiful muy bien - very good sigues enojada, preciosa? - still mad, beautiful? Andale, preciosa - come on, beautiful No queremos tamales pintos, verdad? - we don't want painted tamales, right?; "pintos" is used here in place of "raw" (there are several myths (my family and I have never tested any) about tamales getting "painted," which means that some parts are cooked and others uncooked for different reasons, one of them being that the person who prepare the dough or the people who put them in the pot can't leave the house). _____

My family and I made our first batch of tamales this week and I just got inspired by it. Imagining Miguel mixing the masa got me in my feelings. 🥺 This is just based on my experience but other people who make tamales may have a different method(s)!

GRAHJTJJDJ😮😮😭 HE SO BABYGIRL LOOK AT HIM🥹

You can trust him, he's a good guy...

୨⎯ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 ⛧

彡 HEY ! you can call me mona or mokka :) i go by she/her pronouns and I’m in my 20’s.

♱ If my work seems familiar to you, especially my Jungkook headcanons, it’s because I owned the account ta3bae but accidentally deleted it while trying to make a side blog.

♱ I’m open to chatting and getting to know you, just please don’t trauma dump!

彡 LIKES !

♱ K-pop; my ult groups are ateez, stray kids, enhypen, bts! dilfs old enough to be my grandpa, size inclusive fics, reading, my hero academia (cough cough katsuki cough cough) painting, sleeping in, fantasy movies&books, the idea of soulmates, writing, animals, arts&crafts, pizza buns (the ones from walmart), spider-man, horror !

彡 DISLIKES !

♱ Meat, humid hot air, big crowds, insects, being put on the spot, pushy/impatient/mean people, school !

彡 FAV MOVIES & SHOWS !

♱ Lucifer, the walking dead, the twilight series, tvd&theoriginals, venom, marvel franchise, stranger things, deadpool, the walking dead, nightmare on elm street, my hero academia, scream franchise, vikings&vikings valhalla, one piece, jujutsu kaisen, the conjuring franchise, halloween franchise, step up !

彡 FAV ARTISTS !

♱ Bts, azahriah & desh, micheal jackson, lana del rey, chase atlantic, stray kids, kali uchis, cigarettes after sex, montell fish, nct, raye, ateez, ari abdul, le sserafim, the neighborhood, arctic monkeys, itzy, txt, enhypen, billie eilish !

Copyright © 2023 ta3baee ! All fanfics belong to me and only me, I don’t give permission for my work to be translated, published to another site, or copied.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: heartsteel kayn x gn reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: (omg I didn't change the summary) You admire Kayn and he's grumpy

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 524

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, feminization (Kayn is called "princess"), calling your significant other "bitch" adoringly

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: it's been 3 months, heartsteel brought me back

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Kayn was pretty to you, though to anyone else he was hot.

Hot was when you stole glances; hot was an appearance that you must tear your eyes away from, that burned a scalding hot wave down your body, that left you guilty for staring and fearful of getting caught, and even if they hadn't noticed you, someone else was bound to see you oggling. Hot was out of your league, you could never have him.

Pretty, though, was when you felt allowed to see, to admire; when you stare and can't let go, because you're mesmerized. Pretty didn't fill you with guilt, it filled you with admiration, it makes you feel like your surroundings melt away, and it's just him.

"What are you staring at?"

"You, bitch."

Sass. Whatever else could you be staring at? Kayn rolls his eyes, turning back to whatever he was doing. He continues to ignore you, even as you overcome your trance and walk over to him, even as you wrap your arms around his pretty little exposed abdomen from the side. Only when you start peppering kisses over his face does he falter.

He grumbles, trying to reject your love, like he always does—or like he usually does.

Kayn was a duality, he was hot and he was pretty, he rejected your love and then showered you with his own.

"Go away..." He mutters, but his words are the only thing pushing you away. Instead, he's got a hand over yours around his waist, and the other on your cheek. He simply holds it, doesn't push you away, doesn't pull you any closer. He's got an inner turmoil: he wants more, but he also wants to keep his mean facade.

"No." And he doesn't protest, not whilst you continue pressing kisses into the soft skin of his face. He wears a frown. You want to kiss it away. You place a kiss on the corner of his lips, and it raises, and then the other, and it raises too. He's smiling.

"You're insufferable." Kayn whispers, turning to you fully. He holds your face in both hands now, and actually keeps you in place so you can't kiss him anymore, but still he does not push.

You offer him a smile, "I know you think otherwise."

"No, I mean," His eyebrows furrow, his nose scrunches up, he's annoyed, but it's funny, "you haven't kissed me."

"Yes I have."

He rolls his eyes, "On the lips."

"Oh, I'm sorry, princess," Kayn huffs at the nickname, as though he didn't like it, "I didn't know you wanted me to kiss you."

"Well, I do." He pouts. Pouts! Kayn pouts, and it's so cute.

"Say pretty–"

"I am not saying "pretty please"."

Ignoring the fact he just did, you lean in to kiss him, just as he wants, and he doesn't push, he pulls. He wants this...obviously.

He sighs into the kiss, a "finally", dreamily, with satisfaction, happily.

He hates this. How much he wants you, how much he loves you, how he's desperate for you. But, Kayn thinks, if it means he gets to have you, maybe it's okay.

I’LL PEEL ALL THE ORANGES FOR HIM IDC😭

a/n: i love changbin. 240 words, no warnings.

“You know when I first met you, I was instantly attracted to you.” Changbin lets out a light giggle, then gently swats at your arm shyly. “There’s this theory about atoms and people.”

“Yeah?” He wants you to continue; his mind is elsewhere, but his heart always chooses to be yours attentively. “What is it?”

“So when the universe was created, there was a cluster of atoms, right?” He hums. He doesn’t get it but lets you continue. “So they say if the atoms within our bodies were near each other when the universe was created, we'd always be drawn to each other.”

Changbin lets it settle in his mind, “So it’s like how you say we’d meet each other in every universe?” You hum, grinning when he looks at you. “What else is there?”

“Well, there’s the orange peel theory.” He hums. “Like how I peel your oranges so your hands never have to smell like them.” He agrees. “You also suck at it.”

“I don’t!” He shouts, pinching your arm with a smile.

You nod your head, swatting at his hand when he goes to pinch you again. “You do, but that’s okay. You don’t have to peel oranges anymore.”

“What if I want to peel you an orange?”

You shake your head, and he realizes this is an argument he’ll never win. “I won’t let you. I’ll peel every orange we get so you never have to.”