Alan Rickman x Plus-size Reader One-shots

Dry Humping

"Hey," (Y/N) greets calmly as she enters her studio apartment.

Since they've gotten engaged a few months ago, they've been spending alternating weeks at each other's apartments. This week is Alan's turn to spend it at (Y/N)'s.

"Hey, welcome home," Alan mutters lowly and pats the tan leather settee next to him for her to join him.

He watches as she walks past him into the kitchen. His eyes trail behind her as she disappears behind the freezer door. He hears the clink of a shot glass against the marble countertop and can only imagine that she's pouring herself a shot of the icy cold vodka that she keeps in there.

Make that two shots, he thinks to himself as he hears the glass tap the marble a second time.

She kicks off her shoes, leaves it by the kitchen island, and drags her feet across the hardwood floor before coming to a halt in front of him, shoulders drooping.

"Tough day, eh?"

Alan can sense something's out of place as he observes her eyes - he can almost see her brain going in overdrive. He sits forward on the edge of the settee and rests his large palms on either side of her thick hips, pulling her closer between his open legs.

He places a kiss on her clothed stomach, rests his chin on her abdomen, and looks up into her eyes.

"What's going on?" He prods quietly, sweetly.

She sighs. "I just-, I can't tell you," she hesitates and instead covers her face with her hands.

"Take your time," he sits back upright and gently takes both her hands in his.

"I'm just so sexually frustrated!" She exclaims and pulls her hands from his loose grip while taking a step back, turning to face the large living room window, overlooking a dreary London.

"Where is this coming from?" A confused eyebrow-raise from Alan. He keeps his tone monotonous and calm.

"Everyone around me is having sex and getting married. Every day at the office I hear the girl-talk around the staff table - I have to listen to Thea giving blow jobs and Linn grinding in the club... I just... I want that. I want to have sex!" Her voice raises slightly and she throws her hands up in the air, running a palm across her face in frustration.

"With me?"

"With fucking anybody!"

A huff.

She looks over at Alan and regrets her choice of words before piping down, "yes, of course with you."

"But I can't because of my fucking religious beliefs," she mutters under her breath.

"You have to be patient, my love, two more years and then we can have as much sex as you want," Alan offers kindly while sitting back against the couch. "Unless you want to move the wedding date up?"

"I want to fuck - I want to be able to give a blowjob," her words are laced with desperation, need.

"Well, no, you're just riled up," even though the proposition of a potential blowjob sounds very appealing right now, Alan won't let her break her vows.

"You have all these pent-up sexual needs that you need to get a release from - safely."

"HOW?!" She snaps.

"We-ll..." He stammers. "Have you... tried masturbating?" Is the only thing that could pop into his head.

A red blush creeps up from under his collar at the mere thought.