#'every girl dreams of wearing a pretty dress on their big day' or something (trying to get anna or kiran to agree w her)

[moe-broey]

LMFAOOOOOOOO ANNA....... you could not have misread the situation more. At least in my case 🧍

[crushedcoffeecups]

okay but imagine being a student of Saiki Kusuo's class. how fuckin weird would it be?

there's this guy, Saiki, that you don't know very well, but seems to be completely average in EVERY way. like, concerning average. you genuinely know nothing that he likes or dislikes or is particularly good or bad at. the only thing that sticks out about him is his weird hair clips and his tinted glasses. oh, and all the people that surround him

the weird, big, loud guy that no one really likes is his best friend. he basically follows Saiki around. one time Saiki made a completely to scale statue of him for a class fair.

the kid with a hero complex that is constantly going on about some shadow organisation and fantasy world is also his friend. the one that rips all of his clothes and always wears bright red bandages over his arms. he also follows Saiki around like they've been best friends since childhood. sometimes he talks about the both of them being soldiers in some army.

one day a psychic medium who can see ghosts and guardian spirits transfers to your school. the next day you see him hanging off of Saiki. what is it about this guy that attracts all these people? he doesn't even seem to talk to them. he's apparently the vice president of the medium's occult club.

the perfect dream girl of your class that everyone loves is weirdly obsessed with him. constantly trying to pair up with him in class. they've been seen on multiple dates together and members of the kokomins seem hate him. you're pretty sure they tried to kidnap him one time. he doesn't even seem to like the girl.

the over-enthusiastic class president that everyone respects is also his friend. you're pretty sure Saiki doesn't play any sports, but apparently he joined him on a tennis camp over the holidays. you heard that he hit a tennis ball so hard he sunk a boat.

an ex-delinquent joins the school, and immediately tried to be friends with Saiki. within a week he has joined the large group that follows Saiki around. one of your friends apparently saw the two of them taking motorcycle lessons.

the poor girl in class, the one with a dozen jobs who's constantly searching for food? yeah, she's friends with him too. one time you walk past a cafe she works at and see him inside, talking to the owner. what does he have to do with the cafe? and why was she wearing a maid dress? there's rumours in the school that the both of them took shady clinical trials over the holidays.

also, the girl who has a new crush every week gets weirdly into him for a while. you see her try a bunch of classic cliches to try to win him over. none of it works, but she still hangs around him for some reason.

a super rich guy shows up to your school and demands to date the beloved perfect girl. no idea why, but Saiki seems to some part to play in the weird love triangle. later on, you see Saiki and his friends visit the rich guys house.

a fortune telling gyaru joins your school, insisting that Saiki is her soulmate. the two are polar opposites, yet seem attached at the hip, along with that spiritual medium for some reason.

another new transfer (why does your school get so many transfers?) who never seems to shut up insists on following Saiki around. apparently they're childhood friends? they don't seem very friendly.

that famous actor, the one who is in everything on tv? you see him yelling at Saiki one day. something about a sister? you don't have any idea how they even crossed paths in the first place

on a random school day you overhear some of Saiki's friends talking about their trip to Britain together. did they really travel that far for just a weekend?

one day you see Saiki walking around with a young man with a weird headband. he looks familiar somehow. you could've sworn you've seen him on some science program or something.

you've seen Saiki walking around plenty of times. he walks everywhere it seems, and gets to places at a pace that is logically impossible. doesn't he have a motorcycle license?

his parents seemed perfectly ordinary when you met them, if a little too lovey-dovey. how is their son so different?

the dude never seems to change his clothes. obviously he does, seeing how they never get dirty or damaged. you guess he just wears the same thing on repeat.

you see him out and about with a little boy. probably babysitting. the kid keeps calling him by the name of some superhero.

the school brings in a magician one day. he greets Saiki like an old friend and calls him 'master'. you had no idea they knew each other, or that Saiki liked magic.

you've only known of this guy for a year, yet it seems like so much longer. it feels like too much has happened for the school year to have not ended yet. when did all those people transfer again?

feel free to add to the idea!

[rafeshoeeee]

popstar!reader x bodyguard!rafe

Ever since you were a little girl, being in the limelight was something you'd always dreamed of. Singing on stage and entertaining the crowd as they sang every lyric to all of your songs, It was a feeling you couldn't describe. It was almost like every nerve in your body was dancing around to the music you sang, and dancing to beat.

However, being a pop-star had its pros and cons, it was extremely overwhelming at times when all the attention was on you. Simple tasks like going to the supermarket was a challenge, without swarms of paparazzi flashing their cameras in your face and constantly getting up in your personal space. They had no shame, they didn't care if they pushed you about or invaded your privacy, they only cared about updating the media on your every move.

Your bodyguard always succeeded in making them give you space and when they didn't, he got very protective very quickly. He never backed down when paparazzi were ruthless, your safety always being his number one priority.

Apart of you found it insanely attractive, a guy who you barely had any relationship with, was willing to go above and beyond to protect you.

Another part of you felt rather guilty, how he puts you over himself in any situation and all you know about him is his name. Rafe, Rafe Cameron.

You had just finished touring around a week ago and decided to invite him out for dinner, just the two of you. Not a date of any kind, just to get to know each other, and so you could thank him for all the times he's helped you in situations you knew you wouldn't of been able to escape on your own.

He accepted your invite pretty much instantly. He had always found you intriguing from the moment you first met, you introduced yourself to everyone individually, despite all of them knowing who you were anyways. You were just so polite and precious and he didn't want you to experience the big wide world alone. He had the urge to protect you like no other, to shield you from any danger that you may face and to hold your hand when things got too much. And he got to do just that, but he wanted to do more.

You were looking forward to your evening ahead with Rafe, it'd be a nice change to see him without all his bodyguard gear. Although it suited him extremely well and you almost couldn't picture him without his black belt around his waist with his security badge pinned to it. You would actually be able to view him in a different light and get to know who he really was, not just your bodyguard. Potentially a friend.

You had to keep it professional of course, news spread quickly with anything that revolves around you and your love life. There has been rumors of the two of you dating, but you both just brushed it aside and took no notice. At the end of the day, it wasn't true, and there was no point getting wound up by it.

You aimed to get there by 8:30pm, you wanted to try and arrive a bit later to avoid it being too busy. You and Rafe decided to go to The Ivy, a nice Italian restaurant that was twenty minutes away from your house.

Rafe said he would pick you up at 8pm, he was very prompt and arrived exactly on time. You heard the doorbell ring and scurried there quickly so he wasn't waiting for too long.

And there he was, stood at your front door wearing a white button down shirt, it had been perfectly ironed to a crisp and the material looked expensive. The first two buttons were undone, showing off a slight bit of his toned chest, but not too much so it was inappropriate. Dark, navy blue trousers hugged his legs and a chocolate colored belt sat comfortably around his waist. He looked good, good enough to eat, and he thought the exact same about you.

The warm smile on your lips that you had coated with red lipstick as you opened the door. You looked incredible. It made his cock twitch in his pants at the sight of you in a long black dress, a slit traveling up your right leg and stopping at your mid thigh. Rafe licked his lips at the cheeky bit of skin you had showing, he wanted to see underneath. His eyes raked down your body and stopped at your nipples, that were prominently poking through the thin material of your dress.

He would do anything to swirl his tongue around your nipple slowly whilst he groped the other with his spare hand. He wanted to feel your skin slapping against his as he pounded into you, whilst you moaned in pleasure underneath and littered wet kisses onto his neck.

He was pulled from his thoughts to hear you rambling, "sorry i'm not ready, but i shouldn't be much longer. Soo, you can come in, i'll only be like 5 minutes"

Rafe nodded, "yeah that's fine" he stepped inside her house and shut the door softly behind him.

You cleared your throat, "there's glasses in that cupboard just there and drinks in the fridge, just help yourself, i'll be down in five"

Rafe watched as you ran up the stairs to finish glamming yourself up, he needed a drink, he needed something to take his mind off of the ungodly thoughts he was imagining just a few moments ago.

You were two steps ahead him, before you began getting ready, you poured yourself a glass on white wine and pretty much downed it immediately. You were on your third glass but had slowed down a bit, not wanting to embarrass yourself. You were a little tipsy but nothing you couldn't control.

You sprayed your Prada perfume on your neck and behind your ears, checked yourself out in the mirror once more and grabbed your bag from off the floor and headed for downstairs.

To your surprise, you collided with Rafe, he was wondering around like a lost puppy but he held a huge smirk on his face.

"Rafe? What are you doing?" you asked with confusion written all over your face.

He placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, fiddling with the small strap of your dress.

"i need you. So badly" he admitted.

He couldn't hold it in anymore, he couldn't go to dinner with you and then go home and wank off to a picture of you on your instagram. He wanted to watch you ride his cock, with your tits bouncing his face, him grabbing the flesh occasionally. He wanted to watch you do all the work, make him feel good. Feast his eyes of the image he's been dreaming of.

You were stunned, taken aback by his boldness. You weren't the only one who felt this way? You knew it was wrong, but it felt so right.

You bit your lip and looked up at him through your eyelashes, slowly tracing your nails up his body, stopping at his face. You cupped his cheek and pulled your lips together.

Rafe's hands immediately traveled down your body and cupped your ass, aggressively squeezing the flesh. They didn't stay there for long, they traveled to your bra less tits and he squeezed them both, hard.

You moaned into his mouth, your lips separating, he lightly chuckled at your reaction, "you like that yeah?" his eyes full of lust and desire, waiting for your answer.

you were out of breath from the heated kiss you shared, "yeah" you breathed out before grabbing his hand and pulling him into your room.

Your hands made their way to his shirt, fiddling with the flimsy buttons and undoing them as quickly as you could. His toned upper body was on show, his abs making you clench your thighs together and wetness soaking your panties. Your hands then found the zipper of his jeans and he stepped out of them quickly, leaving him in just his boxers.

He flopped on your bed and laid there staring at you manspreading, "strip for me baby"

You raised your eyebrows but did as you were told. You slowly pulled both your straps down and stepped out of your dress, leaving you in just your panties. You could have sworn you could see love hearts in Rafe's eyes as he stared at your tits.

He jaw was agape, he was in awe, "fuck. you're so perfect" he complimented, causing the wetness in your panties to grow.

You grabbed your black lace panties and slowly pulled them down your legs, you were stood completely naked in front of Rafe.

"such a sexy little body. c'mere" he grabbed the band of his boxers and removed them in a swift motion.

His dick hard, precum leaking from the tip, it looked angry and desperate for some attention.

You crawled on top of Rafe and teased your entrance with his tip, making him become impatient, "no teasing baby c'mon, i need you" he grunted out.

You smirked to yourself, you didn't know how much control you had over him until this moment. You slowly sunk onto him, his length filling you up, you could feel him in your stomach.

It took a minute for you to adjust to his size but once you did you were bouncing on him slowly, making both his and your dreams come to life.

[lancerslover]

a brief glimpse into senator kennedy’s office…

pairing: senator!john f. kennedy/reader

warnings: 18+, pretty much immediate smut, swearing

word count: 995

a/n: this is just a quick random drabble while i finish the bobby and jack fic. it literally came to me in a dream. i guess it’s kinda based on the stories about jfk’s two secretaries “fiddle” and “faddle.”

thank you to the anon who suggested i start doing drabbles!! i’m going to start doing these more often between my longer fics

When you walk into Senator Kennedy’s office, he’s on the sofa, his suit jacket strung over the back and his tie loose around his neck. Next to him is your coworker Jane, wearing nothing but her underwear, holding an unlit cigarette between her fingers and trying her best to grab a lighter back from the senator while he playfully holds it out of her reach.

“Hi,” you say, placing a pile of letters on the senator’s desk. Handling, sorting, and delivering the letters from his constituents takes up most of your time since he receives around 800 letters every day, almost twice as much as any other senator in the building. A large portion of these letters are from women, a fact Mr. Kennedy sometimes likes to jokingly boast about to his senator buddies, especially when the content of said letters involves a woman gushing over how “fantastic” he is or asking him to come over while her husband’s at work the next time he’s in Boston.

“Hey, hun,” Jane says back.

You two don’t have time to say anything more because the senator is grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward him, looking up at you with that lazy, toothy grin. The grin of someone who’s used to getting whatever he wants without even having to ask.

In a flash, you’re in his lap. He’s talking against your cheek: “God, sweetheart, what took you so long, huh? I missed you when I got in today. I’ll tell Ted to stop sending you out on those assignments. You’re much more useful here with me.” You know he’s just telling you what he thinks you want to hear, but still, your heart is singing.

He tears the straps of your dress down around your shoulders and tosses your bra aside while you fit yourself onto his cock. You wince. You’re still a little sore from yesterday.

But you forget about that the moment he starts thrusting up into you. You’re consumed by the way he fills up your stomach and how your clit rubs against the fabric of his shirt, and the way his panting breaths, wet on your ear, mix with your choking gasps. You don’t even care that Jane is just a few feet away, puffing on her cigarette as she nonchalantly twists her stockings back on. As the two youngest, prettiest girls on the senator’s staff, you’ve both become used to these kinds of situations. He’s always had a habit of beckoning either one of you into his office a few times a week, but ever since he started on these new libido-increasing painkillers, he’s been calling you both in every single day, usually one immediately after the other. Probably because once he gets himself all riled up with one girl, he simply cannot resist the temptation to have another, almost like someone with a sweet tooth being unable to say no to a second helping of dessert.

Sometimes, when he’s in one of his ornery, let’s see how far I can push people moods, he’ll call you both in at once and ask you to make out with each other or something. You’re glad he isn’t in one of those moods today. You don’t necessarily mind kissing Jane—all you really want is to make the senator happy—but, for obvious reasons, you much prefer to do stuff with him.

His big, rough hands are needy and eager—squeezing your throat, then rubbing your breasts, then holding your thighs, then cupping around your butt. Teasingly, he curls his fingers into the crack between your buttcheeks and pulls them apart, which makes you pucker and squeal, which makes him chuckle.

He usually makes these guttural grunting sounds every time he heaves himself inside you, but sometimes a little whimper will escape him. When this happens, it worries you because you think he might be hurting himself. You know he takes those painkillers because of his bad back, and you don’t want him to over-exert himself on your behalf. But there’s something primal and matter-of-fact about him during sex, like a dog marking its territory before going about its business, that makes him not have time to think about his physical limits.

You don’t dare mention your concerns to him, though. You once saw him lash out viciously at an aide who’d simply tried to help him with his crutches. Everyone around him cowered. He’s quite frightening, and you told him so a few weeks ago while you and a few other secretaries were walking with him down to the capitol building. You thought hearing that would stroke his ego. And you’re pretty sure it did, even though all he did was throw his head back and laugh and say, “You silly girls are frightened of everything.”

Now, you’re saying, “Please, just like that. Oh, Mr. Kennedy, god, yes” because you know he likes that. Right on cue, you feel his skin getting hotter against your lips. He picks up his pace. You feel like you’re going to melt and drip all over him.

“Ugh, fuck,” he says then, a little too loudly. Then he glances at the door and grits his teeth, annoyed at himself. “God fucking dammit,” he says, much softer. You see him make sheepish eye contact with Jane, who’s now sitting at his desk. She chuckles before going back to flipping through a draft of his upcoming DNC speech.

The senator turns away from her. After a few moments of watching his cock pump in and out from between your legs, his brow furrowed in concentration, he looks back up at you with heavy-lidded, lust-drugged eyes. He licks a bead of sweat off your breast, and that’s enough to finally push you over the edge. You bite down on his shoulder as you cum.

He finishes inside of you only a few seconds later. He doubles over, groaning into a clenched jaw, holding you to him with a hand on the small of your back.

thank you for reading!!

fic taglist:

@evie-gets-bitches

@kennediva

@secretwonderlandcheesecake

@melancholicstation

@southernpopprincess

@maudesgf

@neverellaxx11

@astro-vibes-bro

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@fortheloveofjos

@saturns-flowers

@raspberryknees

[wanderingelvis]

controversial elvis opinion: i honestly prefer elvis when he gained more weight to like baby elvis. i feel like hearing like 75!elvis comforting and holding you and calling you “yittle ‘un”. ahhhhh!!! the dream

i just wanna be his controversially young girlfriend who he dresses up like a doll!

the DREAM <3 I made Elvis have some darker, more controlling vibes here, I hope y'all like it!

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Pairing: Controlling BDE!Elvis x Young Girlfriend!Reader

Elvis is your whole life

No one has a hold over you quite like he does

You trust him absolutely, why wouldn't you? You don't know any better

And that's exactly why Elvis adores you

You're just a gullible young thing and even you'd admit that you can be a little dumb sometimes

But that's okay - because Elvis is there to think for you

You just need to sit by his side and look pretty

And you do a real good job of that, Elvis often reminds you

Honestly? Elvis has the final say in every aspect of your life

You look to him whenever anyone asks you anything, desperately seeking his guidance

From which of your pretty lil' skirts you're gonna wear or how much allowance money you can spend at the International Hotel, Elvis has the deciding say

Some might call it controlling but you like it, to you, it shows that Elvis cares about you and you haven't always had that before

So you just follow him around like a little lost puppy, with wide eyes and a lot of love in your heart for the big, old rock star that you call Daddy

Elvis also loves what a sensitive little thing you are

Even when you get a paper cut and tears will start forming

And you become a sniffling mess that is being pulled into his lap

Elvis will hold you, his big, strong arm tightly wrapping around your tummy to hold you in place as he coos at you

"S'okay, yittle 'un, Daddy's gotcha, ain't that right, brave girl?"

And you'll softly nod as he thumbs away your little tears from your rosy pink cheeks, letting out a small hiccup every now and then, making you bob up and down adorably in Elvis' lap

And that happens approximately three times a day

But you can't help being a crybaby, it's just in your nature

And Elvis doesn't mind, he loves being the one to comfort and hold you

He knows you get easily overwhelmed and overstimulated

In fact, he encourages it when it's just you two in his suite in the International Hotel, overlooking Vegas

He loves pushing you, his lil' doll, to your limits

And of course, he knows your limits better than you do

He always knows what's best for you

"S'too much, too big-"

You mewl through little cries of overstimulation and lust

"I know you can do it, baby, I know you can take it." Elvis will grunt, trying not to finish as soon as he sees your teary eyes roll back in pleasure when he fills up your tight walls

"Good girl, baby, doin' so good f'me."

He'll praise, as you let yourself go

All over him

And Elvis just know in those moments that he has something extra special in his life now that he has you

So of course, Elvis loves to show you off whenever he gets the chance

He'll make sure his pretty little dolly is always by his side

It's like you're on display for everyone to see, the King's prized possession

"Honey, give everyone a lil' twirl why don't ya? Show everyone how pretty my yittle 'un looks in yer new dress hm?"

Elvis will say midway through a rehearsal, through the microphone whilst he's stood on stage

Obviously, you'll do whatever you're told, and you give everyone a spin, looking up to the stage and keeping your eyes only on Elvis

And everyone will compliment you, making you blush and giggle

In those moments, Elvis will fall in love with you all over again

They make the controversial headlines all worth it

You're all his and he ain't ever lettin' you go

taglist: @prompted-wordsmith @vintagegirl2005 @imaginationlast @presleyenterprise @librafilms @ccab @wolywolymoley @rina3476 @billhaderstan420 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @elvispresleywife @ellie-24 @hollbunn @sassanoe @elvisflowerchild @18lkpeters @eliseinmemphis @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyhearted @elvisbf @slimerspengler @octobers-snow @meetmeatyourworst @reddie-freddie @domaniquessidehoe @mygreenlights @kxnnxy @that-hotdog @lana-4life @littleloveysworld @dandelionxbby @lollabear @s0phlabrunette @mumu-hellokitty @elvispresleyxoxo @sergeantelvis @mooodyblue @ashtag2887 @jaqueline19997 @kyliesgwagon @monster-is-awesome @livelovedilfs @neptuneismysister @woniipii @louisejoy86 @lokislittlepup @uselessbutinteresting

[wndaswife]

A Bitter Craving | Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Part Two of 'Love and Loathing' | Series Masterlist

Wanda has been behaving strangely for a while. In spite of her maintained routine, you miss the affection she once gave you, and you do everything in your power to make up for an undisclosed mistake.

Word count: 6252

Tags: smut, angst, slight hurt & comfort, unreliable narration, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation, praise, mommy kink, dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader. MINORS DNI.

Blankets cocooned you, your stuffies were on one side of your bed with your favourite one tucked under your arm and your head laid comfortably on a soft pillow. 

Wanda pulled your blankets up to your chin and kissed your forehead.

“Sweet dreams,” she whispered, stroking your hair once then heading to the door.

You rolled onto your side and said quickly before she left, “Mama.”

“Yes, my angel?”

“Can you read me a story?”

In spite of your request, Wanda raised her fingers to the light switch as if she had already made up her mind before you finished speaking. “No, darling, I’m sorry. Mommy’s tired,” she answered.

You nodded in understanding and snuggled back down into your blankets. 

Wanda smiled softly in appreciation and turned off the bedroom light. She blew you a kiss before she closed the door. 

The little dim bunny-shaped lamp on your nightstand lulled you to sleep when mommy’s soft voice could not. But all it did tonight was keep you up as you stared at it while thinking over the past two weeks. 

Your spanking felt as if it happened ages ago, and all your little mind could reflect on was how oddly Wanda had been behaving ever since then. She hadn’t once neglected to make your meals and kiss you goodnight, but she also hadn’t read you a single bedtime story since your punishment, nor has she played with your dolls or had a movie night with you.

Overtime, you’ve become slightly more unnerved with every passing day that Wanda didn’t drown your face with kisses and spend hours dressing you up.

Most notably, you hadn’t slept in the same bed as Wanda for the past two weeks. 

Initially, you had your own room separate from hers when you first moved in because of how big the change was and Wanda wanted to respect your space. Now, sleeping alone in your room was reserved for punishments and mere day-to-day preference in the case that you wanted time alone, but you knew mommy wasn’t angry with you because of how kind she was, and you knew that you would’ve much preferred to cuddle in her arms as you fell asleep than to be without her.

The sleeping arrangements of the last two weeks were an unspoken agreement though neither of you had brought it up and you certainly hadn’t ever agreed to it, which only further proved to you that there was something strange going on with mama.

You turned onto your other side and forced yourself to stop staring at your nightlight. You pulled your favourite stuffie to your chest and vowed to try and make Wanda feel better tomorrow lest you live through an indefinite amount of time without the affection you found yourself needing terribly.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of cooking eggs. 

You practically leaped out of bed, eager to have Wanda’s time and attention as you once did, but firstly brushed your hair because mommy liked to see her little girl all done up just for her, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

She was standing in front of the counter by the stove and you could hear eggs crackling in their pans.

“Morning, mama,” you greeted happily, standing by the table with your hands behind your back.

Wanda turned and she smiled. Her hair was pulled back loosely with a jade claw clip you gifted her when you first began dating. She was free of makeup but it was clear that she had already gotten ready for the day, her skin supple and glowing as a result of her morning routine. She was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and jeans. 

Mommy looked so pretty.

“Good morning, baby,” she answered then became occupied with her work on the kitchen counter again.

You ducked your head under Wanda’s arm and jutted yourself up to tuck yourself against her body. She squeezed her arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head, which made you giggle and cuddle into her chest. You turned around in her hold to the counter behind you to see Wanda putting together two yogurt parfaits with oats and various fruits, some cut up on a cutting board to the right.

“Finish this for me, my love,” she instructed then laid the two blueberries in her fingers down to move to the stove where she lifted a perfectly pan-fried egg and a few strips of bacon onto each of two small plates on the counter. 

She placed the plates on the table while you sprinkled on a layer of oats and several blueberries and cut up fruit onto the yogurt. 

Wanda put the rest of the unused fruit into a bowl and placed it between your plates, then took the yogurt parfaits and set it down on the table too. 

You sat beside her at the table, looking over to her expectantly though you weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting. She caught you staring at her and wrapped a hand around the side of your head. She kissed your forehead and smiled down at you.

A few short conversations ensued with you desperately trying to start a longer exchange with her as the two of you always had. But Wanda didn’t seem to be all that invested in the things you brought up.

Moreover, she didn’t offer to feed you nor did she even pick up your fork to try, and much like your present sleeping arrangements, you didn’t dare ask if she didn’t offer. It didn’t stem from pride but rather a fear of pushing things too far with her, making things more tense than they already were.

Suddenly, without putting even a second’s worth of thought into your next words, you blurted out, “Are you mad?”

Wanda, who had a spoon of yogurt and fruit in her mouth, looked at you inquisitively. She eyed you for a moment before swallowing and scooping up a strawberry slice. “Why do you ask that?” she inquired, looking down at her plate then back over to you.

“Because you’re being mean to me,” you muttered quietly, petulantly.

“It is not mean to make you breakfast, Y/N.”

You raised your head from your plate, a spoon half-covered in yogurt clenched in one hand, and exclaimed, “No, but it’s mean to never kiss me or read me bedtime stories or play dolls with me!”

For the most part, Wanda’s expression was still and unmoving as she scrutinised you. Then she exhaled through her nose and spooned the blueberry into her mouth.

“I’m unsure what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” she answered, eyebrows raised in slightly irritated indifference.

You bursted up from your seat, fists at your side as you regarded her with what felt like childish anger. “No, you’re not!” you objected, your voice raised. “You’re being mean! Maybe I should run away and see if you’ll care about me then!”

A mix of humiliation and distress came over you with incomprehensible weight as you stormed out of the kitchen and up the staircase to your room; you had intended to stay composed and level-headed to ease things back to normal and most importantly, you hadn’t even known how upset you really were.

Were you really so much of a fool that you had no consciousness of even your own feelings?

How were you to ever know how Wanda felt?

You slammed your bedroom door and buried yourself back in your blankets, pulling them up over your head and vowing not to come out of your room until tomorrow morning.

The door opened and you heard Wanda step in and you buried your face further into your blankets. She closed the door behind her gently and sat on your bed. 

“That is no way to speak to me,” she said.

When you didn’t respond, she lifted a hand to the blanket that was pulled over your head. She attempted to tug it down and expose your face but you tightened your grip on it.

Despite your persistence, Wanda continued, “Apologise for the tone you took with me now, Y/N.”

“No,” you responded, your voice muffled under your blankets.

“Then you don’t get to come downstairs until you apologise to me,” she chastised and stood up from the bed. She left the room and closed the door without another word, leaving you to ball up in bed and bear the weight of your unspoken words.

Eventually when you had the courage to pull your blankets down and roll out of bed, you walked over to your closet and leaned over to dig through your nightstand for your phone.

You hardly ever used your cellphone for you had realised how little you missed out on when you didn’t have it — those you believed to be your friends hardly ever messaged you and your family only ever did so out of what you believed to be obligation, though even that came every other month or so.

Wanda had suggested you spend your time doing something else that wasn’t being with her, which was the first time that had ever happened. If she wanted to get rid of you, then you knew no better way to atone for whatever mistake you knew she wanted you to atone for.

You’d spend your time alone at the park or at the movies, or doing nothing in particular at the public library — anything to give Wanda the time she needed to herself so you could come back and be welcomed home in her arms.

You were going to be on your own for the first time since you moved in with Wanda. 

You tried to remember how she liked to do your hair but found it difficult to navigate after it was cut, so instead you settled for brushing it through and putting a headband on.

Wanda was sitting on the couch with a book in-hand when you came downstairs. She looked up from it, her eyes flitting down your body at your dressed appearance with your tidy hair and pretty outfit. The way her eyes narrowed in scepticism made you believe that she initially imagined you had come down to apologise.

She set her book down in her lap and perched her glasses up from her face and onto the top of her head.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked, the barely-audible grit in her tone daring you to say yes.

You nodded, your arms still at either side of your body as if to maintain your self-control, to not burst out into childish fits like you had earlier. “Going to the park,” you replied.

No one would have answered you in time even if you did ask to see them. The very thought nearly broke your confident exterior as you felt that pathetic pit forming in your chest again.

A soft outline of her clenching jaw formed along the soft curve of her face as Wanda eyed you silently, a multitude of thoughts running through her mind at every second. She debated what to say next.

“Come here,” she told you simply.

Swallowing, you set your bag down by the front door and walked through the living room. She uncrossed her legs and moved her book to the side when you stood in front of her.

It wasn’t very often that you were able to see her from this upwards angle.

She reached up and unbuttoned your shirt. 

“You buttoned unevenly,” she said, her fingers working on buttoning you back up properly.

You swallowed, avoiding eye contact with her as you looked ahead at the kitchen though you could feel her staring up at you.

She set her hands down onto her lap and interrogated, “Is someone going to pick you up?”

Nodding, you answered obediently, “Yes.”

“Who?”

As a result of a nervous instinct, you lied, “Natasha.”

Wanda’s lips parted. “Ah, Natasha,” she acknowledged. “And who else will be going out with you?”

“No one.”

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want to be anywhere but here,” Wanda said and took your hand, guiding you down so you sat in her lap. She leaned up and kissed your cheek. “Here with mommy.”

Your skirt hiked up your thighs when your legs parted to sit in Wanda’s lap and you tried pulling it down, looking away from her as she kissed up to your temple.

“What’s been bothering you, Y/N?” she asked, taking hold of your chin and making you look at her. 

You pulled away from her but she wrapped her hand around your jaw instead.

She added sternly, “Tell me the truth, and no excuses like before.”

Something about the way you were sitting on her lap, her arm wrapped around your hips and her free hand making you look straight up at her made you give in.

“Feels like mommy doesn’t want me around anymore,” you muttered.

Normally, Wanda would scold you for mumbling, but this time she just let go of you and brushed your hair behind your ear with her fingers affectionately, not uttering a word of disapproval.

“Why?” she asked quietly.

“Because you never want to spend any time with me.”

You felt Wanda’s fingers tap against your bare hip where your shirt hiked up. Her eyes flickered down your face though you weren’t sure what she was seeking in your disheartened expression of uncertainty.

“Y/N,” she began, “I’m sorry.”

Her words made you look up from your hands that were resting on her lap.

“I should not have punished you that time. I was too rough with you. I knew how sensitive you were and how much your punishment hurt, and I neglected my power over you,” she explained. “I’m sorry.”

The more you heard her apologise, the more you realised how much you had been wanting to hear her say it.

She continued, “I let my fantasies get the better of me.”

“What are you talking about, mama?” you asked timidly, frightened of ruining the intimate moment between the two of you.

Wanda regarded you with a certain hesitancy, a precariousness glistening in her eyes that captivated you in its depths for you’d never seen her so powerless. But the moment was fleeting, as she looked away as suddenly as her apology had come.

“You don’t need to apologise for breakfast,” said Wanda, recasting her focus on you with the discretion you’d always known, “just say you won’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Ever,” she corrected.

“I won’t ever leave you.”

She raised a hand to your cheek, softly stroking your cheekbone and smiling at you proudly. 

“Why don’t you…” she started reluctantly, “call your friend and tell her you can’t make it today?”

A smile formed on your face, a warm feeling from being on the receiving end of Wanda’s affection once more coming over you.

The sight of her smile made her feel more reassured and Wanda said, “Let’s go to the park together. You don’t need Natasha.”

You shook your head and wrapped your arms around her neck, hugging yourself close to her while she laughed and raised her hands to your upper back, embracing you.

“I wanna be home with mama,” you opposed.

Wanda hugged you and nuzzled her nose against the side of your face, inhaling the scent of your hair while she cradled the back of your head. “Okay, baby,” she said finally. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll change you into something comfortable. How does that sound, hm? You can wear mommy’s clothes if you want.”

You nodded immediately and you felt her smile against your cheek.

She stood from the couch carefully so you eased off her lap. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders as the two of you headed back up the stairs. She peppered kisses against the top of your head until her soft lips reached your forehead.

Wanda looked through her dresser for clothes she imagined you’d like while you stood in front of her full-length mirror.

This was the first time you looked at your hair in this regard — fully dressed to go out, looking how you’d appear for the next while until your hair grew. 

Some days you weren’t sure who you were, and as you stared into the mirror watching the rising and falling of your chest and into the reflected eyes of someone changed, though you could not say how she had changed, you felt today was one of those days.

When Wanda’s arms wrapped around you, one around the back of your shoulders and the other around your midriff, you turned in her hold and laid your head on her chest. 

Some days you weren’t sure who you were.

But if you were anything, you were Wanda’s. 

Always.

Her fingers played with the hair against the back of your neck, twirling it around her fingers as you squeezed your arms around her hips.

“It’ll grow out, my love,” she said suddenly as if reading your mind.

You asked and raised your head from her chest, “You don’t like it, mama?”

“I love it,” she answered. “But I know you don’t.”

“Why do you love it?”

Wanda placed a hand on either one of your cheeks and stepped back so she could angle your body towards the mirror again. The tips of her fingers brushed against the locks of hair that fell against your ears. The pads of her fingers grazed your lobes.

“Because I think you look adorable,” she answered. She stepped behind you, wrists crossed just below your chin and her hands still caressing your face gently. “I love to see my little girl’s face.”

One hand was placed on your shoulder and the other wrapped around your chin, turning your head so she could kiss the bridge of your nose. 

“When you had longer hair, I could hardly see your pretty smile because you were so shy about it, angel,” she added.

“I don’t like my hair. Makes me look bad.”

She let go of your chin and placed her free hand on your other shoulder. “I know you don’t like it,” she said, her voice quieter.

“I shouldn't have cut your hair,” she then admitted. “I knew how much you adored it — how long it took you to grow and care for.”

You bristled slightly at her recollection. It did take you a few months to have grown it out to the length it had been.

Wanda squeezed your shoulders. “There are a lot of things I did that evening that I am not proud of. I acted out of instinct, out of temperamental and irrational feelings. I should have known better.”

That momentary hesitant look came over her again. You watched her closely through the mirror at how she looked at your hair, felt the way her fingers brushed the fabric of your sleeve.

Then she looked up at you, your eyes meeting through your reflections. She smiled at you and tucked your hair behind your ear. 

“But I really do love your hair, princess,” she said, her smiling growing.

Her head ducked down and her lips met the sensitive skin of your neck. She kissed up to your jaw, your head tipping to the side and allowing her more access to you. “Let me show you how pretty I think you look, baby.”

The words made your cheeks flush with an exhilarated fervour, a chill of anticipation running up your spine.

Her hands fell down to your hips and she pulled you against the arch of her body. She tugged you at a certain angle so your ass ground backwards against her hips.

From the crook of your neck, Wanda watched the way your lips parted shakily at the simple gesture. She smirked and nipped at your skin softly, your gasp still caught in your throat before she reached up swiftly and groped your breast.

She then unbuttoned your shirt, her other hand pushing your skirt down from around your hips. You lifted your arms and allowed her to pull your shirt over your head, eliciting a satisfied hum from Wanda.

Your clothes were forgotten on the floor of her bedroom when she saw you wearing the pair you were wearing — a pink bra decorated with pretty little bunnies on them and underwear that matched.

Reassuring kisses were peppered along your shoulder as she continued to undress you, feeling how you began to squirm at the dawning thought of being completely naked in front of a mirror.

“Shh,” she whispered against your bare skin. “It’s alright, my beautiful girl.”

She unclipped your bra and with the gentle tracings of the tips of her fingers that trail chills across your skin, Wanda pushed its straps from your shoulders and it fell onto the floor, exposing your bare breasts. 

A desire to turn and look away from yourself bubbled up within you but Wanda stepped forward, pressing her front flush against your back and preventing you from doing anything but keep your body facing ahead. 

Her hands came up and groped both of your breasts, kneading gently as Wanda kissed the side of your head. 

“You look so cute,” she said and chuckled when she watched you shy away, looking down at the floor while your cheeks flushed at the compliment. “Look at how pretty your body is. I find myself jealous of you from time to time — so smart and beautiful.”

“Thank you, mommy,” you uttered quietly.

She lowered and whispered against your ear, “Oh, you’re welcome, angel.”

Your lobe was taken between her teeth and Wanda tugged on it teasingly before she rested her chin on your shoulder, watching you intently through her mirror. 

Her fingers tugged at your nipples and you felt a sense of vulnerability when they hardened between Wanda’s thumb and index fingers as you realised how familiar her hands were with your body. She knew just how to tug at you, how to flick her fingers over your nipples and tease you just the way she wanted.

With that vulnerability came a sense of belonging, and you lolled your head to the side and rested it against Wanda’s.

One hand travelled down your stomach, fingernails running over your skin and leaving delicate red trails in their wake. 

An index finger hooked itself under the band of your underwear and Wanda hummed as if contemplating something.

You squirmed, but this time out of impatience and little to do with your previous bouts of insecurity. “Mama…” you whispered.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Wanda cooed in response, voicing concern for a thirst she knew she could quench if her fingers only inched down a little more, her cool fingertips making contact with your warm, sticky-

“Please, I feel icky,” you confessed. “Need you.”

Wanda angled her head up and kissed the slant of your jaw. “Need me where?”

“Need you touching my adult parts.”

Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth and she corrected, “Nothing about you is ‘adult,’ sweetheart. You’re just a little baby who’s dependent on her mommy. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and willing yourself not to melt onto the bedroom floor out of ticking anticipation. “That’s right. Mommy knows best,” you replied.

Wanda was particularly satisfied by your answer and she mused with an impressed hum before saying, “Mommy does know best.”

Her fingers finally delved past the waistband of your panties, and further down until her wrist was snug between your thighs. The pads of her fingers merely ghosted over your slit and Wanda chuckled when she felt the way you quivered against her body at the slight contact.

When she made contact with the fleshy hood of your clit, your hips bucked upwards and Wanda giggled. She pulled her hand back and away from your pussy. She watched you attempt to grind down against her hand and pinched your nipple to make you cease your movements.

She let go of your breast and placed her fingers against the side of your chin, forcing your head to turn to her. Her head lifted from your shoulder and she kissed you, her tongue slipping past your lips without warning and exploring the inside of your mouth. She forced herself further into your mouth with her tongue, slowly coaxing yours out. 

Once your tongue stuck out from under Wanda’s to give her more room, she took your tongue between her teeth. The action made you gasp, but she was quick to shift her advances into something softer when she wrapped her lips around your tongue, sucking softly. 

Her hand slipped out from beyond your panties and she turned you around with her hands on your hips while your lips remained attached. She led you backwards and sat you down on her bed.

Wanda lowered herself slowly while her hands found themselves on either side of your waist. Her fingernails pressed into your soft skin greedily. She lowered herself onto her knees and she faced the valley between your breasts. She nipped at the side of one of your breasts, smirking up at you before continuing down, transitioning between her lips and her tongue.

Once she reached the space under your bellybutton you shiver knowing how painfully close she was to your pussy. You watched Wanda as she took the waistband of your panties between her teeth and dragged it down teasingly. The fingers of one hand tucked themselves under the waistband when she released it from her teeth. 

She straightened and placed her forehead on your stomach, watching intently as more and more of you was uncovered as she pulled your panties down slowly. Your underwear finally dropped to your feet, and when you expected to be chilled by the cold air of Wanda’s bedroom, your dripping centre was greeted with her warm exhale. 

Her hand lifted to travel between your thighs. Two fingers parted your sticky folds slowly. Her head was tipped down slightly, watching with parted lips at how her fingers ran through your soaked cunt. 

You writhed against the torturous speed and bucked your hips upwards impatiently.

“Good girls are patient,” she reprimanded, looking up to you through her eyebrows. “If you want to be good for me, you won’t do that again,” she emphasised sternly. At the sight of your obedient nod, she looked down between your thighs again. 

She cocked her head forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. When she pulled away, her tongue darted out to lick her lips and she moaned at the subtle flavour of your pussy. She took her fingers out from between your folds and put them to her tongue. 

Eyes were pinned on her intently as her tongue pushed itself between her glistening digits. She visibly became hungry for more as her fingers pushed themselves past her lips. Green eyes darted up to you, making direct eye contact with you as she sucked at her fingers covered in your juices. 

Fingers slipped out of her mouth and she pressed a kiss to your upper thigh. “Open up for me, princess,” she instructed.

You obliged immediately, shuffling each leg to opposite sides.

“That’s right,” Wanda praised and kissed your lower stomach. “Perfect.” 

She removed one hand from your thighs and pressed the length of her middle and ring finger against your silt. The pads of her fingers slowly parted your folds again. You could hear the stickiness of your cunt when Wanda ran her fingers up the sides of your inner labia. 

A shaky exhale escaped you as your thighs trembled. Her two fingers parted as her middle finger moved forward to circle around your clit softly. You shuddered and your lips parted to let out a whimper. 

“I love how sensitive you are to me, kitten.”

A thumb pressed against one of your outer pussy lips and pulled back, exposing more of your cunt to Wanda. A kiss was pressed to your opening. “Tell me this is all for me. Tell me how much of a filthy whore you are,” Wanda whispered and looked up to you.

“It’s all for you, mommy,” you answered immediately. “Only for you. I’m mama’s dirty little slut.”

Soothingly, her hand rubbed against your thigh. Before wasting any more time, she leaned forward, burying her nose against the hood of your clit as she ran her tongue through your slit. 

You let out a long moan as Wanda’s tongue ran through you languidly. You leaned back, allowing her more access to you. 

Appreciation was quickly expressed as she moved further down your cunt. The bridge of her nose rubbed against your clit as she stretched her tongue forward to tease at your opening. The tip of Wanda’s tongue circled your soaked hole. Your hips jolted down and your clit pressed against the bridge of Wanda’s nose, eliciting a squeal from you.

Wanda pulled her head back and kissed your clit. She raised her hand to your cunt, her ring and middle finger drawing gentle circles against your folds. She heard you whimper above her and she looked up at you. Her fingers pushed into you carefully. You were tight, and Wanda used a bit more of her arm’s force to enter you. 

She kissed your upper thigh repeatedly until you reached her knuckles. “That’s a good girl. You feel how deep I am?” Wanda asked. 

You nodded vigorously. “Yes, mama, feels good,” you slurred pathetically.

Wanda’s fingers arched inside you. A fierce pressure built in your lower stomach. Her thumb raised to rub your clit. It circled around your mound as her other two fingers began moving in and out of you. “Taking me so beautifully, my perfect girl.”

Wanda gradually picked up speed. Her thumb removed itself from your clit and her lips replaced it. 

You mewled, grinding down onto Wanda’s mouth. Her teeth peeked out from her upper lip and her teeth grazed your clit softly. A gasp escaped you as her knuckles hit your opening repeatedly. Your juices dripped down her hand, but Wanda’s speed did not let up. Her tongue darted out to smooth itself up the sides of her fingers, lapping at your pussy lips as they spread to wrap around her digits. 

The mirror was perched up behind her, allowing you the ability to see yourself perched up on the bed, legs on either of Wanda’s shoulders as she was on her knees for you, her head buried between your thighs.

She began to stretch your hole out, her fingers parting inside you. Her tongue was incredibly nimble. She flattened her tongue against your clit, rubbing against you side to side. 

“I want to put my tongue in you,” Wanda panted out. Her fingers slipped out of you and you whined at the sudden hollowness inside you. 

Leaning forward, her lips made contact with your glistening mound and she cleaned you up. Her words were slurred when she said, “You taste so good. I could eat you out for hours.” 

The way she pressed her nose against your clit made your arms turn to clay and you nearly fell back into the bed. But Wanda had instructed you to look at yourself in the mirror, so you tried your hardest to pay attention to the mirror ahead. 

“Blyad. Ty ochen vkusnyy,” she emphasised in Russian against your pussy. A throaty groan came from the woman underneath you. 

Wanda’s tongue entered your hole and you clenched around her. Her lips closed around your folds and she moaned out at the taste of you, her eyes fluttering closed. Her fingers pressed into the sides of your ass, pulling you further down onto her mouth. Her tongue pushed further into you and pulled back with no resistance, stretching your hole out repeatedly.

A series of stuttered left you, “Mommy, I feel- I’m going to-”

“You want to come in my mouth, doll? Show me how much you love when I eat you out. Make mommy proud,” Wanda moaned against you, her tongue darting in and out of your hole as she spoke. 

“I want to make you proud, mama. I wanna come,” you cried out. 

“Keep your eyes open,” Wanda instructed. “Look at yourself when you come.”

A long cry escaped from deep inside you and Wanda grinned against you as your soft walls clenched around her tongue, your thighs hugging around her head. She watched as your eyes struggled to keep your eyes open and look ahead, watching the way you came for her in the mirror. 

Her tongue lapped at you, cleaning you up as you slowly came down from your orgasm. Carefully, she slipped out of you, sticky ropes of your juices connecting to the lower half of her face.

Wanda pressed a soft kiss to your pussy, making your hips jerk. Her hands circled around to your hips and she hoisted herself back up to you. She kissed your lips, watching your drowsy expression as your eyelids fought sudden fatigue. 

A hand wrapped around the back of your neck and the other around your lower back, moving you up along the bed until you laid down comfortably in the middle of it.

“My wonderful girl. So beautiful,” she cooed. She stripped herself down until she was bare, knowing how much you loved to feel your skin against hers.

Soon, you were covered in blankets, cuddled up against Wanda’s side as she held you close, your head tucked under her chin. Not very much was said between the two of you, only the silent exchange of soft inhales and exhales, a dance of breath whose sounds soothed one other.

Then Wanda muttered against the top of your head, “I haven’t been myself. I’ve been destructive and cruel — especially to you. I let my jealousy and my own insecurities overtake me, and I let it out on you.”

The conversation she last had with you before she left your room that evening had been replayed in her mind until it formed a rot in her from the inside, one that spread and infected her. She became bitter, finding that it was easier to become cold rather than to tell you she didn’t want for you to leave her.

It was juvenile, the response one would see from an adolescent.

Wanda knew that well, yet she could jot stop the rot from spreading anyhow until it harmed her even the one she held closest to her heart.

“It’s okay, mommy,” you said.

She continued despite your pardon, “I truly am sorry for how I’ve treated you. I love you dearly, Y/N, and I’ll try to be better at showing it. Properly — as you deserve.”

You moved upwards and wrapped your arms around her neck to hug her. “I love you too,” you said, your cheek pressed up against hers.

Her hands ran up and down your back, thanking you wordlessly.

You laid there for a few minutes more, your bare bodies entangled in each other with Wanda’s arms wrapped protectively around your body. Though she didn’t utter another word, you felt somehow in the security of her hold that she was still apologising by the way she held your head against her breast, let you hear the beating of her heart, and rested her head against atop of your own. Her lips were pressed against the top of your head as if in a perpetual kiss all while she inhaled the scent of your hair, the scent of your body, felt the radiating heat of your skin after making love to you.

You went to bed that night in the same manner, wrapped up in her body, under her blankets and enveloped in her scent, in her hair, in her kisses that lingered even long after she’d fallen asleep. 

Wanda sometimes awoke in the middle of the night, grasping for you in the dark of her room, her fingers wrapping around her sheets in desperation to feel you beside her, curled up against her body.

Sometimes you slipped away from her as you slept, but you always promptly woke when she was shaken awake by her terrors, for you had slept beside her enough times to hear the sudden sharp inhale in your dreams, the panicked outreach for you.

You sat up sleepily and Wanda reached up to wrap her arms around you, pulling you back down to her chest. She kissed the top of your head and ran her fingers through your hair.

The beats of her heart would slow and her hold would loosen as the minutes passed until you were taken by sleep again with Wanda following soon after she ensured she held you close enough that the feeling of your body curled against hers, even in her sleep, would guide her away from her night terrors.

She never told you what she dreamt about and the following morning took place as they usually would, often without a single mention of the earlier occurrence.

But you didn’t have to ask to know what haunted her in her sleep, for it was the same thing that stalked her in her waking hours, the same thoughts that contoured the stillness of her brow in something pensive and solemn if you caught her at the right time.

Then within moments when Wanda’s lips found your skin, the memories vanished. But it was never long until they reproached her again, even if that meant they would take her in her dreams.

[stumachersfavoritegirl]

His Favorite Girl <3

(Stu Macher x reader)

Disclaimer: The use of Y/N pertains to you inserting your own name. The main character in the story is you, but you just have a a different description. Imagination is fun girlies ;3 Thank you for understanding and enjoy!

Chapter 1: Just 3 more hours...

The fourth bell of the day rings, and I'm finally excused from Algebra. I quickly gather my textbooks in my arms, grabbing the strap of my backpack as I head towards the exit of the classroom. Everyone begins to swarm the doorway however, and I'm stuck waiting for them when someone bumps my right shoulder, hard. My glasses fall slightly farther down my nose and I snap my head to the right. "Watch it!" Low and behold, it's Tatum Riley. She basically hisses at me, and I avoid her eyes. Fucking Bitch. I know she did it on purpose, the way gossip flows through Woodsboro High, I'm pretty sure immediately after Stu left my sight, someone already told Tatum he was conversing with me. They probably exaggerated us hugging, or at least, him hugging me. And I could tell this was the case, because until today, she's never even looked in my direction. Now apparently, I'm "in her way"? I mutter a pathetic "...Sorry", and she scoffs dramatically. "That won't be the only thing you're sorry for. Stu is mine. Don't forget it loser." she says before pushing past me and literally every other student in front of her, and no one even dares to open their mouth and protest. She's Stu Machers girlfriend, even me simply saying sorry is the beginning of my demise. But I shake the thought, and as the entryway clears out, I quickly brush past others as I finally enter the hallway. I dig my headphones and cassette player out of my backpack, resting the headphones on my head and pressing play on the cassette. "Bonez" by Mr.Floyd Larry begins to play, and I let the noise take me somewhere serene, somewhere that isn't this hellhole with these assholes. I fix my glasses as I walk to my locker to put my books away, it's finally lunch time and I couldn't be more nervous and grossly, more sweaty. This will probably be the most exciting thing that's happened to me for the rest of the school year and I'm not even mad at it. To have Stu Machers attention about anything, younger me would be excessively gushing at the thought. We're talking sophomore year to senior year long obsession! Wet dreams, fluff dreams, anything my mind could think of pertaining him. But instead of gushing, I feel nauseated. I reach my locker and open it, when a white folded piece of paper falls to the ground. I place my books inside before bending down to sweep it up. I look around me, trying to pinpoint any eyes on me, but when I see none I go back to the note, opening it. It's in big red writing that looks cursive, but it's really just sloppy and the thick ink bleeds through the paper and onto my fingers.

"Change of plans. Meet me at the Woodsboro Coffee and Bagel shop around 4. Maybe dress up a little for me, huh? I know there's something underneath those baggy shirts you love to wear.

-You know who I am ;) "

I definitely know who it was. My cheeks immediately start to heat up and I quickly close the note, looking around before shoving it in my locker. Coincidently, the brews right down the street from my house, and my parents are having a date night tonight so they won't know how long I'll be out. I nod in approval as I close my locker and pull my other bag strap over my shoulder. Ok, not bad. This gives me way more time to prepare. I can run home and quickly change, probably do something with my hair that'll make me look different, but not like I'm trying too hard, ya know? I sigh loudly as the song ends, and I pull my cassette player out of my pocket before entering the lunch room, rolling my eyes at the excessively long lunch line. I drag my feet to join the line when-

"Stop it Stu! This isn't funny, they said you kissed her!"

I look to my right and see Tatum and Stu, with Tatums back to the wall and Stu brooding over her, extending his arm to lean against the wall with it. I quickly step to the side and out of everyones way before standing behind a pillar, pretending to have trouble with my headphones and cassette player. When I notice no ones looking, I peer over and listen.

"Come on, you know I don't like this jealous shit. You're my Tatum." He says, grabbing her face gently before bending down to quickly peck her lips. She closes her eyes as he does this, and he almost lets his lips linger there, before pulling away and leaning against the wall again.

"I only want you babe. Why even believe school gossip anyway? I've heard a lot of stuff about you, but I never believed it." He shakes his head, never breaking eye contact with her, but she does with him as she rolls her eyes dramatically. "Please Stu, what could you possibly have heard about me that I haven't about you?" She says, testing him. She snarls her face as she says this and he grazes the room, hesitating before slightly chuckling. "It doesn't even matter. I mean, why are we still even talking about this? When this day ends, who will I be with?" He asks her endearingly, his voice softens and he bends down to get more to her level. "Huh?" He says, amusing her, moving closer and closer to her face. "Who?" He asks one more time playfully, there lips are basically touching and she rolls her eyes, scoffing meekly before kissing him. "You stupid." She surrenders and he smiles something so mischievous. "Wanna go for a quickie?" He sticks his tongue out to lick her nose and she playfully smacks his shoulder, smirking as she rolls her eyes at his perverse remark. He fakes a theatrical "ow" before bending down again to wrap his hands around her waist, picking her up to bury his face in her neck. "I gotta get you for that. You know better." She giggles rapidly as she tries to pry him off of her. "Stop it Stu!" She pleads out, almost looking around in embarrassment as he continuous to tickle her neck; he makes sounds that are obvious he's biting it. He eventually stops, repositioning her in his arms and she shrieks. "Stu!" She yells out, hysterically laughing, as he holds her in his hands bridal style, almost studying her with his eyes. He licks his lips before asking "You hungry baby?" and she nods giddily, still laughing. "Then let's go!" He widens his eyes and his mouth forms an 'O' before taking off with her, clearing the crowd of students in front of them with the biggest grin on his face. As they pass the pillar, I look back down at my cassette and fake a few scoffs because I'm having 'such a hard time with it'. When they leave my sight however, I put the cassette away and sigh. Ugh, if I had eaten breakfast this morning, I definitely would've threw up from their grossly not faked chemistry. I hated how much he was always on top of her, so overbearing in an overprotective and caring way. I always noticed whenever they were together anywhere, his eyes would be peeled on her no matter where she was in the room. Granted, I've also noticed that when she isn't around those ocean eyes definitely wandered. But, he always made it aware to any and everyone that Tatum Riley was his, to a point where it translated to he owned her. There was something about his patronizing demeanor that always turned me on. I always got Dom energy from him, especially when he was with Tatum. But, around Billy Loomis, he seemed to surrender. Their friendship dynamic was definitely different, Billy always seemed so serious, uptight almost. I never really saw him breathe, or even rest his shoulders for a moment. Stu on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Every time I saw him there was a smile on his face. He moved around so much, there wasn't a time I could recall him standing still. But nonetheless, they always seemed to make it work. Their whole clique seemed so perfect all the time, and I catch myself yearning to be apart of something similar. Things would've probably turned out way different if I had grew the balls to speak to him after hearing a rumor that him and Casey Becker broke up. But in under a week, he was locked in with her copycat and my Mrs. Matcher dream became history...again. But who knows? Maybe things can change later today. It really all depends on how I prepare for this situation. I begin to contemplate everything I need to do to impress him this afternoon as I continue my venture to the lunch line, resting my headphones on my head and pressing play.

//////////////////(lower volume)

I dump the food on my tray into the trash as I place it on the table nearby, tucking the strands of loose hair behind my ear as I exit the lunchroom, dreading the next 2 hours of this day. I couldn't be more anxious about later, but the day just seems to drag on and on. I tilt my head to the side to scratch the nape of my neck when I see Stu Macher ahead of me. He's staring directly at me, his gaze is cold, and I'm almost scared to keep looking in his direction. But he keeps my attention when he motions his head for me to follow him down the hallway. I almost stop walking completely in disbelief, and I look around to make sure he's talking to me and no one else. When I see no one looking in his direction, I turn back to face him, but he's gone. I furrow my brows as I contemplate even following him. The way todays been going, I wouldn't even be surprised if it was a hallucination. But, I sigh as I force my feet to walk forward, towards his direction. Once I turn the corner where I saw him, he's at the end of the hall waiting for me. When he sees me, he makes another turn and I pick up my pace to catch up with him. I end up in the janitors corridor and as I make the turn, someone quickly grabs my arm and pulls me into a dark room. I gasp but someone grabs my mouth and covers it, closing the door. I feel someones breathe against my right ear and my face burns as I purse my lips together, swallowing. Stus smell washes over me however, and I close my eyes and silently moan, pressing my thighs together as I realize the breathe on my neck and the hand over my mouth belongs to him. He reaches infront of me and switches on the light, and I quickly open my eyes and clear my throat, fixing my loose strands of hair. He removes his hand from my mouth and as I turn around, he's towering over me, his dimples deeply pierce his cheeks as he smirks. His pupils are dilated as he burns holes into me. I can tell he was humored by scaring the crap out of me because he teases me as he says, "Don't be scared, it's just me." I smile quickly and look up at him before silently chuckling and looking away. I can feel him continuing to stare at me but I don't dare meet his gaze. I hear him sigh deeply before he states with a taunting grin, "So, I need to know. I've heard rumors are going around about us, and a little birdy told me it all came from you. Is that true?" He begins to advance me slowly, and I end up backed against the wall, his smile almost begins to vanish; his eyes almost turn a darker shade of blue and his gaze goes cold. "You know I have a girlfriend right?" He asks me sternly, and I stutter and nervously chuckle as I say. "I-I-I wouldn't- I'd never, uh st-start a rumor um, I didn't say anything about u-us talking. I don't even- I don't h-have friends here."My eyes are desperately darting the room to avoid his, but when I'm finally done experiencing word vomit while also feeling completely speechless, I look up and him. He stares at me for a while longer before completely bursting into laughter. He spins around in a circle slowly as he cackles, bending over and clutching his stomach as he finally makes a full 360. He meets my gaze again and I'm left to stand against the wall shrinking in embarrassment. "Holy shit man, I was just fucking with you. Holy shit you should've seen your face! Pure fear."

His face is red from laughing so much, but he stops chuckling to stand over me again. "You know, I don't really listen to what these shitheads have to say about me. It's really just Taum that's worried about that shit. And I'm sure you saw that in the lunch room today huh, stalker?" He smirks as he taunts me with this, and I begin to feel my heart beat out of my chest. Jeez, how many times can one person fuck up in a god damn day? First he catches me staring at him like a creep, then he catches me ease dropping on him and his girlfriend? All in the span of 4 hours too, I'm clearly on a roll today. My thoughts race as I stand there like an asshole just staring at him as he stares at me, waiting for my response. I'm completely speechless and he knows this because he bends down and gets close to my face before he whispers, "Cat got your tongue?" He chuckles at his remark and my cheeks heat up as I look down again. "I-I-"

"Relax, it's not the end of the world kid." He pushes himself off the wall as he teases me, maliciously smiling as he examines the janitors room. "Besides, I think it's kinda hot. I mean, you're the reason I need help in English." He turns to face me as he says this, his dimples still showing as his smile grows. "You never noticed I look at you too?" He asks me, as he begins to walk towards me again, slowly. "Maybe because you're always in your own little world, or maybe because you sit in front of me. But I always see when you're staring at me, because I'm really good at not being seen when I stare at you too." He's close to my face again, and I feel my glasses fog up. I'm breathing heavily as I clutch the side of my pants to hold onto reality. "Are you surprised? I mean, did you really think I asked someone about being "study buddies" and they referred me to you?" His question comes with a sarcastic chuckle, and I'm still standing there, my lips slightly parted before I lick them and push my glasses up. "Um- I-I um..." I swallow as I look down, pursing my lips together as I try to figure out how to say something, anything that'll help him understand that this is everything I've wanted since sophomore year.  "You know how pretty you are. I mean, without the glasses, the messy buns, the baggy clothes, I always wondered what you'd look like in a tight skirt, your legs exposed..." He leans into my ear as he says this, smirking, and my breathe picks up again.

"...with a tight short sleeved crop top, exposing your belly." He looks down at my body as he says this before locking eyes with me again. "Your hair down, just bouncing as you walk..." He licks his lips, "along with your breast." He looks down again, "...your nipples poking through your top, almost like now. I can see them through your sweater." He repositions himself in front of me and he levels his head with mine so I'm forced to keep looking at his face, "Do you have any idea how crazy that makes me?" His pupils are dilated as he says this, and his smirk is completely gone. I open my mouth to attempt a response, when he takes a sharp breathe in, pushing himself off the wall again chuckling. "You do now. " He says before smiling again, walking around the room. "You got my note right?" He asks me, snapping his head towards me. There's a seriousness in the question, even though he's still grinning. I make sure to lock eyes with him before nodding quickly. He sighs deeply before facing me again, looking me up and down before slowly advancing me one last time. I hold my breathe as he gets closer, and for a moment, time stops. He gets close to my lips, and he licks his and looks down at mine before saying, "Don't be late then. I... don't like to wait." He quickly scans my body again before winking at me and flashing a quick smile, exiting the janitors closet as he playfully waves at me. I finally breathe as I lean back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as I press my hand to my chest. My hearts beating so hard, I feel it in between my legs, and I press my thighs together tighter. What the fuck...just fucking happened? Did Stu Macher really just confess he's always had a crush on me? Did he basically just tell me, that he's always liked me back? Were we both just afraid this whole time? I never saw him as a guy that held his tongue, he always seemed so out-spoken. I guess things would've turned out different then, if I had gone up to him after him and Casey broke up. I wonder how things will be now that I know about him, and now that he knows about me. So many different thoughts are racing through my head about what could've been and what could be, when the door swings open again. I suck in my breathe, expecting it to be Stu coming back to taunt me more, when I see gray hair. Fuck, the janitor. Luckily, they don't look around the room as they walk in. They head towards the toiletries as they store the Mop and bucket away and as the door closes, I slip through. I speed walk back to the school hallway as my heart continues to race. That would've definitely been detention, that would've ruined everything planned later on. I realize that I'm also now late to my next class which might get me detention as well. So I quickly pick up my pace as I head up the school stairway. I just have to get through 3 more hours of this day, and then I'll have his attention again. 3 more hours and I'll feel his touch again, smell him again. Just 3 more hours, and I'm his. Just 3 more hours…

[centralperkchenford]

The chaos twins (Lopez and Harper) go wedding dress shopping with Lucy

Thank you for the prompt friend! I hope you enjoy it! (Sorry it took awhile!) this also turned out softer than expected.

The chaos twins (Lopez and Harper) go wedding dress shopping with Lucy

Spinning like a girl in a brand-new dress

“Hey Lucy!” Calls Angela from across the station and Lucy turns to look at her friend coming towards her a grin on her face. Lucy glances over at Aaron who shrugs and walks away before Angela can reach them.

“What’s up Angela?” Lucy asks as the other woman gets closer. Angela places herself in front of her and grins.

“Have you looked at wedding dresses yet?” She asks. Lucy furrows her brows at her friend but shakes her head.

“I mean I have looked online but—” She begins but Angela cuts her off.

“Online? You have to try your dress on Lucy!” She says waving her hands in the air. “You can’t pick out your wedding dress out online.”

Lucy huffs out an exasperated breath before speaking. “I don’t have time to go wedding dress shopping Angela. I barely have time to plan the wedding as it is!” She says and Angela rolls her eyes.

“Well as Tim’s best friend and best woman I refuse to let you to pick out a dress online.” She says. “We are going wedding dress shopping this weekend.”

Lucy opens her mouth to say something but Angela cuts her off. “I already cleared your schedule. So you can’t say no.”

Lucy looks up at the ceiling because lord help her. “Okay.” She finally says and Angela bounces on her toes.

“Did she say yes?” Nyla asks coming up besides Angela wearing an identical smile to Angela’s. Lucy sighs as Angela nods at Nyla and then turns back to Lucy.

“Saturday morning. I will pick you up, please be fully dressed when I come to the door.” Angela says. Lucy rolls her eyes, Angela had caught her in a state of undress once and every since then she wouldn’t let it go.

She could already tell this was going to be a long day.

***

Saturday comes and Angela picks her up at their house. Tim gives her a sympathetic smile and kisses her on the lips.

“Good luck baby.” He says and then turns to Angela his hands still on Lucy’s waist. “Don’t be too hard on her.” Angela rolls her eyes at him and then pulls Lucy out the door. Lucy sees Nyla in the front seat grinning at Lucy. Lucy looks behind her and Tim is standing there with the door open shaking his head in amusement.

“Have fun.” He calls out as Lucy gets in the backseat. Lucy rolls her eyes resisting the urge to give him the middle finger. He wasn’t the one who has to try on dress after dress just to find the perfect one.

***

“What is your dream dress?” Nyla asks Lucy as they sit in the dress shop, and wait for the girl to come back.

Lucy shrugs her shoulders. She wants simple but pretty. She doesn’t want anything too frilly or fancy. Just something that is hers.

“A simple dress.” She says. “Nothing to fancy but that is—”

“Easy to take off.” Says Angela grinning at her. Lucy groans and rolls her eyes at her.

“No. Well yes. But I want one that is me. No long train or anything that I have to worry about getting dirty because I have to pick it up. I just want it to be me.” Lucy says blushing a little.

Angela nods in understanding. “Okay. Well we will find you something Lucy.” She promises her. Lucy nods and now that she is here she is kind of excited to try on dresses and pick out the perfect one.

The first four dresses are no-go’s. One is too long for Lucy’s taste, one is too frilly and the other two she just doesn’t like.

By the sixth dress she is getting more and more frustrated. And when she comes out in a ridiculous get up she wants to scream at the girl who is helping her. Nyla sighs when she sees her in it looking just as frustrated as Lucy feels. Angela ushers her back into the fitting room, muttering something about big bows on dresses are not it.

“I got this Lucy. Don’t worry we will find your perfect dress.” She says and then leaves Lucy to get undressed. She hears Angela outside with Nyla trying to explain to the girl what Lucy’s style actually is.

Lucy signs and picks up her phone. She has three new messages from Tim.

Tim: How is it going?

Tim: You know you could wear a trash bag and you would be beautiful.

Tim: Anything you pick will be perfect. I love you.

Lucy: Trash bag really Tim? Don’t tempt me. I love you too.

Lucy sighs as Angela opens the curtain just a little bit to hand her a dress.

���Try this one.” She says. Lucy takes it from her and looks it over. It’s simple and it has a bit of a train, but it’s not too long. It has buttons all down the back. It’s beautiful.

She slips it on and it fits her perfectly. And she just knows, this is the one. She calls for Angela to help her button it up. She does and then she leaves so Lucy can come out. Lucy pushes open the door and she hears a gasp.

“Lucy..” says Nyla standing up. “It’s perfect.” Angela is grinning from where she is standing.

Lucy can see her in the mirror and she grins back at her.

“I know.” Lucy replies because she really can’t say anything more except she loves this dress and she can see herself walking down the aisle to Tim in this dress. She imagines what Tim’s face will look like when he sees it for the first time. Both Angela and Nyla step on either side of her and she grins at her friends in the mirror grateful that she has them by her side.

“It is perfect Lucy.” Angela says and then adds with a wide smile on her face. “Tim will actually have to work to get it off.”

Nyla bursts out laughing and Lucy rolls her eyes once again as she turns around in the mirror and feels the soft fabric swoosh at her feet.

This is it. This is the dress.

***

Tim is really not sure what to expect when he sees Lucy in her dress for the first time. He knows that he will most likely cry when he sees her for the first time. And Angela and Nyla both had been tight lipped about what her dress looked like. He knows he’s not suppose to know but he couldn’t help but pester them a little.

And then their wedding day came and Tim is up front with Angela beside him. The music starts and Tamara comes walking down the aisle grinning at Tim and then glancing back over her shoulder for a minute.

And then Tim sees her, and while had no idea what to expect from her dress he knew this was better than he could have imagined.

It was simple but elegant and it hugged all her curves perfectly. Lucy catches his eyes and smiles softly at him. And once she reaches him and stands in front of him, he gets a better look at her and she’s glowing.

When they have their first kiss as husband and wife he runs his hands down her back and pulls her close. The fabric of her dress soft against his hands.

When they have their first dance and he spins her around much like he did at Nyla’s wedding he admires how she spins in it. And then as she’s laying her head down on his chest as the music slow down, he whispers in her ear. “I love you in this dress.” He says and she grins up at him. “But I can’t wait to get you out of it.”

The smile Lucy gives him is so bright and happy, Tim could fall over right there. She leans over in his ear a mischievous grin on her face as she whispers. “I can’t wait for you to get me out of it.”

[satninroses]

Broken Back & Doting Girlfriend

(A/N): I have nothing to say ;-; I hope you all enjoy! :-)

Summary: Elvis slips and injuries himself in the shower. You rush to help him but get sidetracked with little Elvis.

Pairing: Older! Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2,788

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI! Hand jobs (M. Receiving) Dirty talk, swearing, descriptions of injuries, mentions of Colonel Tom Parker

Elvis returned home a few days ago from his latest tour. This one in particular had taken a large toll on him. He felt like he had no time to breathe or talk on the phone with you. When he finally got home, you were glued to his hip to make up for all the lost time.

You felt as though Tom Parker was squeezing every last drop of energy out of him. You had pleaded with him to take a breather but Elvis persisted that he needed to prepare for the next big tour he was going on.

As if there wasn’t enough to worry about with his music and the Colonel, he always worried about you. He worried if you liked it at Graceland when he wasn’t there. He worried if you were comfortable in all the lavish clothes Elvis gifted to you. He even worried over if your dinner was warm enough.

Even before he met you, he was always stressed about his Mama and Papa. He always wanted to make sure they were ok and in need of any assistance. He had always told them that if they ever needed anything during a tour, he would walk right off that stage and take the first flight back to Memphis.

After his mom passed and his dad had distanced himself from the family, he was left with no one but him and the Mafia. Sure, he wasn’t lonely but he always get as if something were missing. He enjoyed how his mother doted on him as if he were still a young man.

Life had seemed dull for a year or two before he met you. He was well into his late thirties and you were fresh out of college. When he first spotted you outside the gates to Graceland, your sweet face had drawn him to you first. Your hair looked soft and your cheeks had a sweet pink tinge to them. You had the biggest and sweetest doe eyes he had ever seen. You sported a pretty pink dress the fell right beneath your knees. You had the prettiest string of pearls around your neck and on your ears. You were also wearing these adorable Mary Jane heels.

When he had first approached you, the girls around you grew excited at his presences and did everything to get his attention. Not trying to be rude, he handed out a few hugs and autographs. He wanted to push through all of them to get to you.

After the mob of girls had moved to the side for him to pass through, he stopped right in front of you. You were about a foot shorter than him. He peered over at your friend who was stationed next to you. She had an awe-struck look on her face while you babbled on about the newest fashion trends you wanted to indulge in.

He cleared his throat and your head shot up to look at him. You gasp and your hands come up to slap over your mouth. “You’re Elvis Presley.” The excitement rushed through your veins and up into your brain.

He checked and nodded his head. “In the flesh Darlin’. What’s your name?“ You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled up at him “(Y/N).”

He let go of you and grasped your chin in his hands. His lips met yours in a rush. You gripped his bicep and kissed back. He pushed back a little bit.

He released the short-lived kiss. “Listen, why don’t you come back here later tonight when I can meet you again without any nosy paparazzi. I’ll let security know that you’re coming. They’ll let you in.”

These last few years have been a dream for him. He loved you so much and you loved him even more. He was 39, almost 40 this year. You were on the verge of 23. You were so polite and kind-hearted. He doesn’t know what he would do without you. Every night, he thanks his lucky stars and mama that you were sent to him. He knows that if he were to step out of line even once when it came to you, his mama would rise up and scold him endlessly.

Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and cuddle with his beloved. He entered the bathroom connected to the bedroom. He stalked towards the faucet of the shower and switched it on. While he was waiting for the water to heat up, he took in his reflection through the mirror.

He was sweaty and he looked exhausted. The bags forming under his eyes were becoming increasingly noticeable. His arms bulked up a little bit from the endless guitar and piano playing these last few weeks. His eyes traveled down lower. He seemed to be bulking up in size in general. He wasn’t fat by any means, he was just a little round around the edges.

He turned away from the mirror and headed to the shower. He checked the water and stepped in. The hot waterfall was like the best back massage he had ever had. He felt much more relaxed and calm. He let the steam envelope him and clear his pores. He felt much less tense and more loose.

He allowed himself to put his guard down and enjoy himself. He began to hum the melody to Burnin’ Love.

“Lord Almighty. Feel my temperature rising,” he sang softly to himself.

He turned to grab the shower head to adjust it. As he turned, he tripped over his own foot and took a harsh fall to the ground. “SHIT!” The pain that he had been feeling in his back and arms increased tenfold. To make matters worse, the shower rod had fallen right on his face and onto his nose. It wasn’t broken, but it was bleeding heavily. “Damnit! (Y/N)!”

You had been sitting on the bed looking through a magazine detailing Elvis’ latest adventures. Your head perked up at the sound of a crash in the bathroom and a loud profanity from your lover. You hopped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom. “Elvis? Are you ok?”

The scene beneath in front of you made your stomach turn. Elvis was sitting in the tub now, the shower rod having fallen on him giving him a bloody nose. His arms and back seemed to have taken the most damage as it looked like it was already swelling.

“Elvis! What happened? Oh dear, you’re very hurt! Uhh… Don’t move, ok?” You handed him a warm rag to hold to his nose while you gathered some more items to help him.

He was compliant. He laid in the tub in pain while he watched his doting partner scramble about the bathroom. It really reminded him of his mom. This is why I love you he thought to himself.

“I think we need to take you to the hospital.” Elvis didn’t like the thought of paramedics entering his home while he was indecent. He also didn’t like the idea of having to travel down stairs, out of the house, into the car and put more pressure on his achy areas.

“Doll, I think it’s ok. I just need to get dressed and sleep it off with some pain killers.”

“But Elvis! What if you’re seriously hurt?”

“Satnin, it’s ok. I just took a tumble is all. Trust me, ok?”

For a second, you looked hesitant to believe him and considered going against his wishes but you didn’t want to stress him out further.

“Ok. What can I do now to help?”

Elvis had finally snapped back to reality and realized the gravity of the situation. He was sopping wet and naked with his legs spread in front of you.

“I suppose we can try and put my clothes on. I wouldn’t worry about drying me off. I just need to get out of here right now.”

You nodded obediently and began rummaging through the clothes on the vanity to look for something light he would wear. You dug a paid off dark grey pajama pants out from the pile and showed him. “Are these ok?”

He nodded back at you. You made your way over to him and helped him out then over his feet. You continued to pull them up until you hit his mid thigh.

While the pants were not form fitting, Elvis had but on a little bit of extra fat and muscle so it was making it impossible to pull them up.

“E? These pants aren’t fitting. Do you want another pair?”

“No, it’s ok. I can squeeze into them.”

You tugged at the waistband of the pants harder and harder trying to fit them over his legs. In the middle of this tug-o-war battle with you and the pants, you had caught a glimpse of his cock.

It was still wet and had some soap suds on it. He wasn’t erect but it still sat large and very thick in between his legs.

You grew up as a modest girl. You were polite to everyone you came across. Sure, you had a few boyfriends before Elvis but it never progressed further than light kisses and the occasional hand holding. To you, this seemed very intimate and you were flustered.

“I’m sorry. I know this is uncomfortable for you. But, I have to go over your.. you know.”

Elvis bit back a chuckle from your timidness in attempt to ease the tension. “It’s ok baby. You’re ok.”

You felt more grounded from his reassurance. You pull the pants up further until they’re over his thighs. The waistband catches him roughly. His dick was harshly pressed against his lower abdomen. It almost hurt more than his arms and back.

“(Y/N), baby. S-Stop real quick. You caught me.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion.

Caught him? You thought to yourself. It takes Elvis everything in him to to groan in frustration of the situation.

He contemplated his next choice of action before making a decision.

“Satnin. Listen very carefully. I need you to reach into my pants and push… Little Elvis to the left a little bit. That’s what I meant when I said that you caught me in the waistband. I’m real sorry Darlin’. “

The fire in your stomach somehow got hotter. You’ve never touched Elvis this way, much less, touched a man in general. This made you jumble up into a flurry of all different emotions. Shame, embarrassment, excitement, and… arousal?

You hesitated for a second before slowly sliding your hand down into his pants to readjust him. The palm of your hand grazes the tip of his cock by accident. He lets out a low and guttural groan.

You continue to readjust him into a more comfortable position. At the same time, his cock was beginning to grow hard and heavy. You felt bad about this. You wanted to retreat back to yourself and help in other ways. You look at him to apologize and he was no better. His eyes were shut tightly and his grip on the shower rod was so tight that he knuckles were turning white.

He was trying to stop himself from getting hard and making this more awkward but he was failing miserably. He wanted nothing more than for you to just jerk him off right then and there. He knew about your lack of knowledge in the sex department. He didn’t want to push his limits with you but this was something he couldn’t control.

“I’m so sorry Elvis. I know I didn’t want to make this awkward and i’m doing a terrible job. I’m not hurting you, am I ?”

“N-no. Not at all. It feels good. Really good. You could… keep going? Maybe I would feel a bit better.”

You nod nervously. It wasn’t that you were scared and didn’t want to do it! You were just inexperienced. You didn’t have to first clue on how to please a man and you didn’t want to disappoint Elvis.

You turned your body so you were more facing him. You have him a shy smile and began to pump his cock again.

“God, Satnin. You sure know how to use those hands. Yeah, just like that” He he weakly moved his arms so that his hands were on yours. He slowly pumped your hands up and down the length of his cock applying little bits of pressure when needed.

You could feel your core producing a wetness that pooled in between your legs. You moaned a little from the friction.

“Elvis? If I help you up, can we go back to the bed?”

He smiled softly at you and nodded. “Just don’t kill me, doll.”

You rose from your spot on the floor and dusted of your butt. You stood over the tub where he sat and gripped his outstretched hands. You pulled him up, albeit not easily, and walked him gently over to the bed. You placed a pillow in the middle of the bed and urged him to lay back on it.

“Are you ok? Do you need anything else?”

“I’m ok angel. Are you?”

You smiled and held his head in your hands. You bent over and gave him many small kisses all over his face.

Your kisses grew more passionate every time. Soon, those little kisses turned into a war. Who’s tongue could take over the other ones? Even in a not physically good condition, Elvis still had the upper hand.

He kissed you like it was your last one ever. He gripped that back of your head tightly and didn’t let got. His other hand rubbed it’s way down your face, to your neck, to your collarbone, to your breasts. He squeezed one in his big palm and massaged it.

You moaned quietly into the kiss before pushing youself off of him. “We came in here for you! I want to please you.”

You slithered your way down his body until your eyes and mouth were face-to-face with his hard cock. It looked much prettier like this. It stood tall and thick. The tip was a pretty pink and precum was dripping down and onto his balls. Speaking of which, his balls sat heavy on the blankets. They had a satisfying weight in your hands. For a few minutes, you took a closer look at every individual hair, vein, and part of his pelvis until you were satisfied.

You brought your hands to his cock again and began a slow pumping rhythm. Deep sighs and occasionally sharp inhales could be heard from Elvis. His arms lay dormant at his sides and he had his neck and head arched off the bed and looking at the ceiling.

You increased your speed and friction in an attempt to create a stronger reaction. As expected, he was groaning much more loud and whimpering your name here and there. You moved one hand off his cock and down to his balls where you pulled and tugged them.

“Fuck. Baby, spit on it. Get it nice and sloppy”

You obliged. You gathered a little bit of spit and released it onto his cock. You so spread it up and down the length of his cock. It looked even prettier than how it started. Not only was it pretty and big, it was practically glowing in the light.

You jerked him off faster. This resulted in a flurry of swears being released from him.

“Fuck! Just like that. God you’re p-perfect (Y/N).”

You kept doing until he jerked his hips up into the air. His cum shot out the top and coated you in it. Even through his orgasm, you kept the same pace. He spurted all over you. Long ropes of his thick cum coated your hair and face. He let out a loud groan from the bottom of his throat and lied back on the bed breathing heavily.

“You’re so good Satnin. So perfect and good for me.”

You moved so you were laying at his side. You kissed him deeply. “I love you so much Elvis. I’m so glad you were patient with me.”

He smiled sweetly at you. “Absolutely. However, you might want to get cleaned up before you fall asleep here. I’ll be waiting.”

You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips playfully and stood up.

“Fine. I’ll be sure to clean up the mess YOU made though.”

You both laughed at your childish remark before he looked at you with serious eyes.

“Just so you know, when I’m feeling better, I’m gonna repay you real nice. Nice and rough.”

[simlicious]

Personal update 😃

I have not done a personal update for quite some time, so here it is! Today, I dreamed that it was suddenly the 1st of December and I had nothing prepared for my advent calendar yet and was feeling in over my head and thinking "Do I really want to do this again?!" Maybe my brain telling me to actually prepare patterns ahead of time this year and to start early? 🤔 I'll keep that in the back of my mind. I actually finally got Sims 4 running (let's see how long until the next patch breaks everything, maybe I have a few days left). I only want to play with tons of mods, which break all the time and are a pain to update, so I only do that procedure once or twice a year. When I actually get to play, I really like to immerse myself for a while until it is all over again. The funny thing is that I actually have fun playing because so many aspects are new to me (having fun in TS4 is almost unheard of, but apparently it can really happen 😆). Building and CAS are so much fun too! I'm not exactly a gameplay blog and not sure how many of you want to see TS4 on here anyway, so I doubt there will be many pics. I get super frustrated whenever I try to make sims in TS3 CAS, I guess I do not have some of y'all skills or the right CC at times (or do not know how to use it properly). In Sims 4, everything can be solved with a few skin overlays and I feel the weird head shape proportion thing that is so off in Sims 3 does not apply there, which makes everything easier. I do miss patterns though 🥲 I have been pretty preoccupied with other hobbies lately, I've been on a serious style rediscovery with my best friend, we discovered this style system called the Style Key and it is all about giving yourself permission to try out new things and your personal needs when choosing styles, which is really refreshing to all the systems that tell you "you cannot wear that with your body type!" So I've been trying things I did not actually dare to wear, like cute/playful outfits in pastel shades. I may wear the styles now that teenage me was too shy to wear and it feels great! I do not care anymore what other people may think about it. I recently discovered those colorful chunky plastic rings which surprisingly look good on me. I always felt like I could never really make jewelry work on me, and tried the tiniest minimalist pieces because everything felt "too much", but I have never tried the other extreme, the big chunky stuff because I told myself "that could never work". Turns out that trying out stuff instead of limiting myself feels really great and yields surprising results! And I feel more confident too because my outfits are fun and make me happy, and I am more relaxed if I feel happy too. In the Style Key system, I think I'm a Ruby (left-down quadrant) and I think the archetype "Spicy Girl Next Door" fits pretty nicely for me. The biggest takeaway for me is the realization that outfits have to "feel right" for me, not for anybody else and I do not dress to please anyone, but to help me feel good in my own skin and take into account my comfort needs and feelings on that day when I choose what to wear. The Style Key is not a system that tells you exactly what to wear, but it helps you figure out what you need your style to do for you and go from there. It's a bit daunting to get into because it is really so different from other systems and includes rather abstract theory/unusual concepts that are not really that intuitive, but the videos on the youtube channel really help to explain those concepts.

I also still work on some Python projects, but they're still a long way off from amounting to anything. But it's where I can use my problem-solving skills and just tinker around. I just really need something to bite my teeth into every now and then and that is perfect for it. 😊

[dia-souls]

🥀 Subayui fanfic 🥀

Pairing: Subaru🗡️ and Yui 🌸

Author: Admin Ava

Genre: Funny, Sweet themes, Happy ending

Chapter: 3

Admin's note: ⚠️ This Chapter includes violence themes, Choking, humiliate ⚠️

“Ok, class, I need to step out for a minute. Finish chapter 8 on your own. I’ll be back” As the door closed the students started to chat amongst themselves. Mainly about mundane topics, but the main thing on everyone’s minds was the dance on Friday. It was anyone could talk about. From girls talking about what they’ll wear to the guys discussing who they‘ll as out. Amid all these conversations, one thing on Yui's mind was,” Should I ask someone?’’

All day she has been hearing about the dance from all the second years, they told her how fun the dance is. Everybody dressed in the most exquisite ensembles from designer brands that cost more than the house she lived in. Some people talked about how heavenly the food was. Prepared by the most renowned chefs in the world. Drinks are brewed from the highest quality fruits and alcohol. For the adults of course. Then the music would be played by talented musicians from all over Japan. It sounded like a dream.

Yui only got more and more excited as she heard amazing things about the dance. She was apprehensive before but now, she couldn’t wait for Friday. Be that as it may, there was one thing she wasn’t so sure of yet. She had been hearing from some of the girls about who they were going to ask to go with them. That was something she hadn’t thought about.

“We need to ask someone to go with us? I wonder if anyone would ask me. Probably not, especially with all these beautiful girls here. Who’d ask me? Besides, I’ll be going with the brothers anyway. I bet it would be awkward if I had someone going with me. Although…it would be nice.’’ She had never been asked out before, therefore her father being her partner at a church event didn’t count.

After the bell rang for lunch she decided to head to the library to eat. Even after being at this school for a year now, she still wasn’t used to all those children who were raised so differently from her. She didn’t mind, however, in fact, she did enjoy the time for the small amount of time she got. Gave her time to relax and study without interruptions.

Once she reached the library and found a quiet place to sit. She was finally in her element. Putting her nose in a book, blocking out the world, herself the only one around for miles. It was calming, peaceful, and well worth the bullying she received every time she went home.

That as it may be, the illusion was shattered once Kou decide that she could lose a couple of seconds of what she most desperately needed. “Hey, M-Neko-Chan~ What's up?” “Oh hello, Kou-kun. Not much, just trying to get some quiet.” “Yeah, yeah, that’s nice and all. Anyway, I said something I wanted to ask you.” Yui raised a confused eyebrow at the idol. Did he want to ask her something? Her conscience told her to be weary of his question, while her more optimistic side encourage her to at least consider his request. In the end her optimism over her rationality. Only by a margin though.

“Uh, sure. What is it.” Kou's smile was very big and very unsettling. “ Well, I’m pretty sure your ears have been ringing with everyone talking about the dance on Friday I just wanted to ask..” Kou walked towards her, his face a little close for comfort. “Has anyone asked you to the dance yet or have you asked anyone?” Huh? That’s all? Yui was a bit taken aback by Kou's question. She had thought it would’ve been more….eerie “Uh, no. No one has asked me or I haven’t asked anyone.” Kou's face twisted into an annoyance for a second. Then, into mischievous. ‘’Oh is that so~ Well then I don’t suppose you fancy going with……me!”

What! HIM!? Yui was so taken aback by his statement that she fell out of her chair. Kou roar with laughter as Yui rubbed her bruise backside as she watched Kou lose himself in a loud cackle. She hastily picked herself off the floor while brushing the dirt off her skirt. Looks like her quiet time was completely ruined. Not wanting to waste her time being the butt of Kou's joke, she swiftly grabbed her things and stuff them in her bag. Yui let out a huff as she walked past Kou to the exit of the library. Nonetheless, Kou wouldn’t let her just leave. Instantly he was in front of her. Due to their height difference, there wasn’t any room for escape. “Hey now M-Neko-Chan, I wasn’t done talking to you yet.’’ The once smiley vampire aura turns cold and distant. Yet, possessive.

“You haven’t given me an answer yet. Don’t you think that is kind of rude? Not to mention the fact that you’re trying to leave without even saying a word, I’m disappointed. Honestly who the hell do you think you are huh!?” Despite Kou’s abrasive behavior. Yui stood her ground, albeit anxiously.

“ Kou-kun you were the one who abruptly asked me the question in the first place, so forgive me for being shocked. Also instead of at least helping me off the ground, you just laughed at me the entire time. I thought you were here just to make fun of me, if you have nothing better to do than laugh at me I’ll decide to leave. I’m sorry but my answer is n-“

In a fit of frustration Kou grabbed Yui by the throat and slammed her back to the door with a loud thud. The shock was so great that it knocked the wind out of her. Kou grasped her throat so tightly that air barely was able to enter. Tears floated down her face as she struggled to breathe. With her eyes glazed over with tears, she could hardly see Kou. His face which was normally so handsome and charming was contorted into a violent scowl. His bright were clouded with hatred, those idol-worthy, perfect white teeth gritted against each other in an unbearable ear-piercing screech. The muscles in his hand cracked and popped as his fist squeezed so tingly that blood started to trickle onto the floor.

“ Do you know how hard is to be nice to an oblivious twit like you? You’re so fucking stupid that it’s pain to even talk to you. Millions of girls would love to even get the chance to even breathe the same air as I do. Yet here you are being ungrateful for the gift you’ve been giving. The opportunity to be seen with a start like me, but all you can think about is leaving?! Are you sick in the hand or are you naturally born with no common sense? You’re so lucky right now….but, YOUR DUMBASS CAN’T EVEN SEE IT!!!

Kou squeezed tighter on Yui's neck as he continued to snarl insult after insult at her face without even thinking. Yui struggled to remove his hand from his hands from her neck but was unable to do so. With air becoming more and more scarce, and dark splotches blinding her vision. She has to think fast.

So, with the last bit of strength, she could muster. Yui opened her mouth which was covered in drool from struggling to break free, and bit down on Kou's hand as hard as she could! He howled in pain as blood spurted from his hand! Yui fell to the ground while coughing up a storm as air slowly enter its way back into her lungs. Kou grasped his hand as he glared at Yui with a look of murder in his eyes. “ YOU BITCH! LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE! YOU BIT MY HAND!!” Kou walked towards the blonde ready to intact vengeance for causing him pain. But she was ready. Before Kou could lay a hand on her, Yui grabbed a fountain pen from her pocket and as Kou was nearer, she stabbed the point of the pen in Kou’s wounded hand!

Kou fell back in pain, clutching his hand, giving Yui time to get up and run out of the library. She ran faster than she has ever before! Her body needed time to rest from being near seconds away from deatmh but the adrenaline kept her going. Her only objective was to get away from the vampire that would surely main her if he caught her.

As Yui turned the corner, almost falling in the process, she spotted a tuft of white hair in the distance.

“SUBARU!”

chapter 3 ended.

To be continued…

[forever-found-in-daydreams]

My Cana cosplay experience

Hi there, this is somewhat of an important post for me, because I finally did something that’s been a goal of mine for quite a while now.

As you probably know if you follow me, I struggle with (along with other mental/physical health issues) trichotillomania, which means that every day I fight the uncontrollable urge to pull out my hair, leaving it thinner and patchier than it once was. It seems to finally be growing again after it stopped, but it’s still hard.

Cosplaying Cana Alberona from Fairy Tail in her young form has been something I wanted to do since I started writing my fic, Where the Wild Girls Grow, which is teen Cana centric. When my friend (who is amazingly talented at sowing!) offered to hand-make Cana’s green dress for me after I had given up my search for a look-alike, I was over the moon. Since my hair is the same color as Cana’s, I wouldn’t even have to wear a wig.

That gets hard when you have trich. I felt like I was in a race for time to do the cosplay before it was too late. But I couldn’t win the race against my addiction.

When time had passed, and my friend never got back to me, I decided to give up. It was for the best, I told myself. My dreams had already pretty much been crushed once I started losing so much hair.

Fast forward and I’m still not better, but my friend had finally started working on the dress. I didn’t know how to feel. The cosplay idea still brought up the ugly ways I felt about myself and my hair. But I went along with it anyway.

Still, many panic attacks and one trip to the ER later, I was strangely okay. Still pulling, yet a little bit better. Maybe I just knew I had to accept my addiction, and learn to live with it, because I’m not getting better. Letting it destroy me will only send me to the ER again.

It wasn’t a straightforward journey, and I still don’t quite know how most days, I feel so okay. Maybe I just cried until I couldn’t anymore. It’s no longer worth it. Maybe I am a little bit better with the pulling, too. Maybe.

The first sparks of happiness over my dream came back as I watched my friend work on the dress, and then finally got to try it on. The grief was somehow fading from my feelings surrounding the cosplay plan I’d had. I thanked my friend over and over.

When it was finally finished, and I got to take it home, I was hopeful. I was going to Comic Con like this, hair and all. It was the best I could do.

My hair didn’t look perfect on the big day. I still have three very visible bald patches on the front of my head. But I went anyway.

I put on the dress, and I felt so happy.

I finally got to embody the girl who’s been my best friend through everything I’ve been through, and for that I’m grateful.

Even as Cana, it’s not like I was fixed. All the medicine set out on the kitchen table reminded me I still have a long way to go.

But I went to that Con, and I let myself shine.

I twirled around in the dress, made friends in line, and kicked my sandals against the sidewalk. I let myself be happy. I felt euphoric in that dress, and really, I didn’t care what my hair looked like. I was okay after all.

So you, yes you with the mental health problems, you with physical health issues, you with that trich, that addiction.

Life is tough, but you are tougher.

And I know we’re all gonna get better.

[erigold13261]

>>:3 enjoy my happy headcanons

1. Mystery man's real name is Martin but Tatiana calls him Marty McFly when the two are alone

2. Sayu crew owns an DDR mashine and Sofa has the highest score out of everyone

3. EX-Jay play D&D together and recently BJ2 joined in

4. You better believe Neon is little spoon! I mean look at his partners prime cuddle material

5. Mayday used a preppy, cheerleader type girl Mama went through a gothic lolita phase and J loved dressing like a Victorian gentleman... Let's just say they don't talk about it a lot today, except J because of course he would

6. West and Eve meet up for Just Dance and chill, it gets intense sometimes with how dedicated these two are

7. Yiruk, Kayne and Dew got into trouble for a prank involving duck tape, mentos and Soda but not in the you think it would

8. Dodo loves Ena! he even did a cosplay once maybe even commission Remi for some of his OC's

9. Yinu watches Samurai jack with Orange! They think it's fun! ( J not so much because of the amount of robot brutally destroyed in the show)

10. Zuke dreamed of having a late night talk show when he was younger, think something similar to Eric Andre

1). I feel like this is a reference that is going over my head. But cool headcanon! Not what I imagine Mystery Man's name to be, but a good one to have! Tatiana being silly my beloved

2). Sofa and Dodo just having dance-offs where Dodo puts too much effort in and ends up just dancing a random dance and not even hitting the right buttons while Sofa is expertly dancing and hitting every button perfectly every time.

3). Pft, what a bunch of losers /j. I can see Noa being a DM and he regrets it almost immediately as he now has like 3 murder hobos in his campaign.

4). I like the idea that Neon switches but is big spoon most often. Or at least he wants to be, it can't be comfortable to sleep on a metal arm wrapped around you. But same thing with being little spoon, it would be difficult with his head and body. Not to mention DJ is probably not the most touchy person, and even though Mama likes spooning, it is difficult with Neon's metal body.

They try to use blankets or something to soften the metal, but it just leads to Neon getting overheated and very paranoid/feeling trapped. Which is another thing that probably stops him from being little spoon a lot.

Like I LOVE the idea, but unfortunately it has to be a conscious and awake cuddle session for spooning to work, otherwise if any of them try to sleep/nap, it will just end up bad for someone. But Neon switching a lot and being little spoon every so often is a very nice thought that I love1

5). Hmmmm, not how I see them. I like Mama as a flowey, pastel colored skirts and dresses kind of girl. And Mayday I could see going through a goth phase more than a preppy girl phase.

HOWEVER. Mayday trying to fit in and make friends so she pretends to be a preppy cheerleader kind of girl is something I see happening. It didn't make her happy but it got her some friends (who were fake but at least she wasn't alone).

For Mama, I can see her always wanting to try gothic lolita fashion (and for those who don't know lolita is a legit fashion and is different from lolis or lolicons) as it is super pretty and cute, but never having enough money for it growing up and then feeling too old to ever try it once she was an adult. I can see her finally getting to live her dream one day for a Halloween party where she dresses up in lolita fashion (and then does so more regularly every so often for fun).

As for Neon, yeah. I can see him going through a phase like that for fun. Especially if he and Martha were dressing up together. He hasn't dressed up like that for a while until Carna wanted to be a kind of Victorian noble person for Halloween one year which sparked Neon to try and wear more outfits like that at times. Especially if Carna was also dressing up to go out so fea wasn't alone in looking dapper.

6). I'm so sorry but "just dance and chill" made me think of netflix and chill lol! Those two would not be doing THAT hahah. But no, I can see them dancing together for exercise and to just bond.

7). Okay, at first I'm thinking they made a makeshift bomb (by accident, they were not thinking), but you said it's not what I think so hmm..... I can't think of anything other than taping a bunch of mentos into a duct tape ball.

8). Don't know much about ENA, but sure, I can see Dodo liking that media. Maybe even showing Eve since they both have split color designs or something like that.

9). Don't know if Maragold would like Samurai Jack all that much. Not because it was bad, but because Maragold wouldn't really be interested all that much. They would watch it with Yinu to be nice at least, and honestly I actually don't think Maragold would like the robot violence that much too. Carna would love the violence in the show but think some scenes are too slow and get bored with it too (I have seen very little Samurai Jack and it's been years so yeah, memory might be bad).

10). Also don't know anything about Eric Andre, so uh, yeah. I can see Zuke wanting to be a show host one day though! That seems like something Zuke would want to do at some point, but ended up growing out of that dream later down the line.

[shen-the-hopeless]

Listen, I don’t even know where to start. Maybe with the fact that every day I wake up knowing I’m going to see him. Freaking Kai. My alt goth co-worker who looks like he walked straight out of the kind of Tumblr aesthetic board that destroys the self-esteem of every woman under five foot five and over 150 pounds. Which, guess what? That’s me.

How can someone be so perfect and so unattainable at the same time? It’s like God—or, I don’t know, Satan—crafted this man to ruin my life. First off, let me paint you a picture. He’s not just hot; he’s unfairly hot. Like, his face belongs in some K-pop music video where he’s smirking at the camera while the rest of us peasants are crying into our Starbucks cups. Even with that stupid COVID mask he always wears, I’ve caught glimpses of his face, and oh my god. It’s almost cruel how symmetrical it is. His jawline could slice through my depression, but it doesn’t. It just deepens it.

And don’t even get me started on his hair. Messy? Sure. But not messy-messy like mine after three days of dry shampoo and regret. It’s the kind of messy that screams, “I spent two hours casually looking this good without even trying.” Whether it’s loose, framing his stupidly pretty face, or tied up in this devastatingly nonchalant ponytail, it’s perfect. How does he do that? It’s infuriating.

And his fashion? Jesus Christ. He wears these loose black sweaters that slide off his shoulders like he’s trying to kill me. Who even does that? Exposing just enough shoulder to make you think about biting it—sorry, what?!—but not so much that he’s trying too hard. Then there are those choker necklaces, the Hot Topic chain pants he literally DIYs, and his knee-high boots with all those buckles. Every time he walks past me, it’s like he’s stomping on my last shred of dignity. He looks like a goth anime husbando brought to life, and I can’t even function in his presence.

And the kicker? He’s quiet. He doesn’t talk to anyone unless they talk to him first. He just sits in the break room reading Tomie or My Dress-Up Darling, minding his own perfect little business, while I’m over here shaking like a chihuahua on a caffeine drip. He’s the literal embodiment of “speak softly and carry a big aesthetic,” and it’s driving me insane.

But here’s the real problem: I’ve never spoken to him. Not once. I can’t. Because every TikTok, every stupid Reddit thread, every piece of content I’ve consumed has drilled into my brain that men like him don’t want women like me. And honestly? They’re probably right. I’m not delusional. I’ve seen those videos where guys dodge eye contact with girls who look like me, scared they’re about to be asked out by someone “below their league.” I’ve heard the stories of men freaking out because some unattractive chick dared to confess her feelings. I can’t risk being another one of those cringe compilation clips.

And let’s not even talk about logistics. Even if, by some miracle, Kai found me attractive—which, let’s be real, he wouldn’t—I have nothing to offer. I wear the same ratty clothes to work every day because I’m $10,000 in debt and can’t afford new ones. I don’t shower every day because what’s the point when your dream guy doesn’t even know you exist? I don’t brush my teeth every day because, honestly, it feels like a waste of time. I don’t even have a car! What am I going to do, ask him out and then take the bus to our date? Yeah, that’s hot.

So instead of trying to talk to him, I just… stew in my misery. And the more I see him, the more I realize something horrifying: I actually kind of hate him. Like, how dare he exist in the same space as me and look that good? How dare he make me feel things I haven’t felt since I discovered Astarion romance fanart on Tumblr? How dare he remind me, every single day, that I’ll never be good enough for someone like him?

It’s not fair. I probably love him more than I love Ezra Miller or Timothée Chalamet, which, judging by my Pinterest board vibes, is saying a lot. And yet, I’m stuck here, just existing in his orbit, unable to do anything about it because I know—I know—that the moment I open my mouth, it’s over. He’ll see me for the desperate, broke, ugly loser I am, and he’ll never look at me the same way again. Not that he looks at me now, but you know what I mean.

And the worst part? I can’t stop obsessing over him. It’s like a sickness. Every time he walks past me in those stupid boots, or adjusts his choker, or flips his hair, it’s like he’s adding another layer to this toxic little fantasy I’ve built around him. I don’t even know if he’s a good person! For all I know, he could be a total asshole. But does that stop me from imagining us bonding over Final Fantasy VII or co-oping Baldur’s Gate 3? No. No, it does not.

I hate him. I hate that I love him. I hate that he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy, but I’m nothing he’d ever want in a girl. And I hate that I can’t even blame him for it, because if I were him, I wouldn’t want me either.

So yeah. That’s my life now. Trapped in this purgatory of unspoken lust and self-loathing, all because some goth anime god decided to grace my crappy workplace with his presence. I hope he’s happy. Because I sure as hell am not.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

447 of 2023

Created by joybucket

Pt. 2

I love pink. 🩷 I'm Goth, but I still wear pink. I mostly wear black, but I also wear pink sometimes. I don't think hot pink eyeshadow really looks good on anyone. I've worn a pair of hot pink Converse. I would love to drive a pink car. I've owned a pink phone. I've owned a pink phone cover. I've owned a pink iPod. I've owned a pink laptop. I live in a big city. I live in a high-rise building. I've been to Chicago. 🏙️ I've been to NYC. 🌆 I'm a city girl. I've been to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago. I've been to London. 🇬🇧 I've been to Tokyo. 🗼 I've been to Paris. 🐩 I've been to Seattle. City lights calm me. 🌃 I love Minnie Mouse. 🩷 I've had my picture taken with Minnie Mouse. I've walked through Minnie Mouse's house. I think I look pretty in pink. 💖 I own a pink dress. I welcome Christmas music at any time! I own a pink Christmas tree. I like pink Christmas trees. I own a pink sweater. I own a pink winter hat. I own a pink coat. This graphics looks like someone I know. ^ I have naturally straight hair. I straighten my hair every day. I wish my hair were naturally straight. I own quite a few pairs of chandelier earrings. I enjoy putting outfits together. I own a sweater dress. I own a heart-shaped necklace. I look very young. I'm still a little girl inside. The shirt I'm wearing has words on the front. I've talked on my cellphone at some point within the last 24 hours. 📱 I'm wearing a pink shirt. 👚 I own a pair of pink sunglasses. (yeah for lolz) I own something from Victoria's Secret. I'm wearing a loose top. I'm enjoying a hot drink right now. ☕️ I have my hair up in a ponytail. I'm wearing a headband. I take surveys as a way to relax. I don't actually even really like the color pink. I enjoy playing Truth or Dare. I like surveys that ask juicy questions. I've done something really stupid on a dare. I've done something dangerous on a dare. I've injured myself playing Truth or Dare. In a game of Truth or Dare, I usually choose Truth. In a game of Truth or Dare, I usually choose Dare. I've dared someone to do something dangerous and then later regretted it, because they got hurt. I like to giggle. 🤭 I'm thankful for funny jokes that make me laugh. 😂 Life is what you make it. I've been the class clown. 🤡 I enjoy watching stand-up comedy acts. I enjoyed watching stand-up comedy, but I could do without the dirty jokes. I like to watch funny TikToks. I wish someone would help me find the real me. I don't know who I really am. I want to take a year off to travel and to find myself. I don't often let people see the real me. Nobody knows the real me. I'm afraid that people won't like me if they see the real me, and so I hide. 🫣 I try to cover up the real me by acting like everybody else. I'm not perfect. (who is?) I'm not normal. I'm afraid people won't like me once they find out I'm not normal. I'm not even sure I like the real me. I hate myself. I love myself. 🩷 A lot of people hate the real me. I wish I knew what was going to happen tomorrow. I hate it when adults put pressure on me to plan out my future, because I want to just take life day by day. I have no idea what I want to do with my life yet. I'm scared of what will happen in my future. My future is in God's hands. ✝️ Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all. I understand that life is about risk, and that life itself is a risk. ….and that if we don't take risks, we're not really living. I want to live life on the edge. It's always been my dream to risk it all. Life is a crazy ride!

[dearreaderyourenotonyourown]

Dear reader,

Hey, it's me again, I know it's been a while now, but this was scary, I was never free to use my voice.

I'm trying to be free again, to be me again.

Everyday is different, some days I feel just fine, and in others I really don't have the strengh to get out of bed, and just now I realize that for someone who was in my situation for so long, this is kind of normal, as long as I keep reminding me that every day ends, and the sun will rise again in the morning.

And don't worry, I'm in therapy, in fact I really love to go to my psychologist and just let it all out, another fact? I'm also a psychologist!

And before you guys go "WHAT? THIS GIRL HAS SO MANY PROBLEMS AND IS A PSYCHOLOGIST?" I just wanted to say we psychologist sometimes have so many problems, some of actually enter the course trying to figure it out our heads and the people around us, to understand a little better why we are the way we are, and then we just wanna help people to understand theirselves too, like us.

I have, anxiety, a very challenging one, my anxiety can cause anxiety attack, panic attacks, can trigger my eating desorder, can trigger my skin demartite, among other things. My anxiety attacks are mild, but some of my panic attacks can be pretty bad. And due to a lot of things I have some symptoms of PTSD.

Like I said some days can be really bad, because on top of that we all have to deal with the demands of our society, as woman, my weight, my skin, my lack of girlfriend/boyfriend, if I wear makeup or not, to much or to little, the lenght of my skirt or shorts, or my clevage, and as a girl who is fat, and no, fat is not bad word to me anymore, I'm fat, I'm a big girl, I just don't care anymore, I prefer to use it myself to let others use it to diminish me, and I'm happy in my decision, the problem is that people some times play dirty. Like when you're feeling good in a dress that is more tight, they say something to make you feel uncomfortable, like "I would ashamed if my belly would be like that" or "This dress is not really for your body type" and so much worse.

As a fat girl, trying to build my self esteem, I can tell you guys it's freaking hard, this world and our society really don't want women to be healthy, and I mean, physically, mentally, spiritually, in any way possible. I have heard that I'm not loveable in the eyes of a man because I'm fat, that I'm not desirable because I'm fat, that no man or woman would fall in love with me because I'm just not that pretty because I'm fat, that my thin friends no matter what they would use they would look better than me, because...I'm fat, you guessed correctly, that I'm not sexy, that my face is so pretty it's just sad that my body it's not a match (Many came from my wonderfull parents). I could go on, but I guess you guys get my point.

I'm not even going to enter the maternity stuff, I'm 26 and I had 1 boyfriend who was awful, really bad, really toxic, for another post kind story, and everyone asks me about boyfriends, girlfriends, getting kids and this kind of stuff, but, hey guys I'm single!

Don't get me wrong, I have this dream, some can called it childish, of love, I would absolutelly love to meet someone, to fall in love, to get married, and maybe have kids, I believe in finding THE ONE, and soulmates, and happilly ever after, to live this love that sweeps you out of your feet, I believe it so much, that I made a playlist on spotify for the future THE ONE in my life to explain how I feel about them, and again I don't believe that life is always like this, I believe we can build romance, and be romantic. I just never found this for me. And I want this in my time, because I found the right person, not because society wants me.

But is not fair to lie to you guys either, altough, yes I'm building my self esteem and I'm in therapy, and also more comfortable on my own skin, I also hate myself somedays, I also hate the mirror somedays and I'm really unhappy with my body somedays.

I cry, I scream, I look at myself and it hurts, and with therapy and feel that I can be loved by my friends and my aunt, but I don't feel that I can be loved like a woman, I don't feel loveable, desirable, I feel like I am meant to be alone, because nobody can love me, that I'm not worth it, that I'm not good enough, and it pains me so much because all I trully want it's to feel love like this, to love someone and to be loved back.

Again its like I said, everyday is a battle, and I'm trying so hard to win this one, to feel like a deserve love and to be loved, that I'm worth it, I know that this pain comes not only from the comments about my body, but also from the situations that my parents put me in, the things they told me my hole life, like, how I was a bad child, how I trapped them, how they left me alone in the cold, without care and food, how they used me against one another, like a toy, like pawn in their saddistic games, how they use to beat me, and make me correct their wrongs, or how they used to fight and I had to get in between them, how they used me in their divorce, going to the court house and the police, and asking me to choose a side, making me talk to lawyers, and making me do corps delicti, making me lie, and recording our conversations to show one another or in court, kidnapping me, I can say I'm not afraid of hell, because I lived it in my own house, with my parents.

I have hope, that one day I find the strengh in myself to believe again that I'm worth it of love, of happiness, I hope that in this day I really can find this love I dream about. I really hope that I can win this war, and feel the wonders and the downfalls of falling in love,

Love,

Giih.