#also added a side zipper to make it easier to take on and off

[mushrooms-n-frog]

i altered my first homecoming dress! it hasn’t fit me in years so i had to kinda tailor it and add a corset back alongside the decorative changes

i love it so much hgabhdkgkf

[icancdramahanfu]

Maomao's skirt

Since I have decided to torture myself and do a cosplay in just over a month, I figured I would start with the easier part - the skirt.

In my intro post, I mentioned that her skirt isn't Ming accurate being vaguely mamian-like but not really. For this I played with two main ideas, using one of my other skirt patterns that has pleats and would be mamian-like or go for the circle skirt.

The fabric I selected was around 2 1/3 yards - less than I'd like but it was the entire remaining bolt and the color was perfect - don't trust my indoor lighting here. With the limited amount of fabric I had to do a little tetris to decide what pattern pieces to use. I washed and dried the fabric before ironing it.

My first and preferred pattern was this one:

Simplicity #2710 - 1949

I have already made this skirt, it has thick pleats and falls nicely. I figured it might be a good selection and I'd get that extra Ming style with lazy pleating.

Circle skirt

Less complicated since all I had to do was determine my waist, put it as the circumference and make a 1/4 circle pattern with my pre-marked cutting board. The bolt was 46" from selvage to selvage meaning if I kept one strip I had more than enough for a waistband. I am currently assuming a 4" wide waistband and went with 42" for the skirt length.

Unfortunately for my original plan, the vintage Simplicity pattern was too wide with the pleating. I'd need 3 1/2 yards of fabric and my current pattern pieces were set for a length of around 36" as well to the hem.

Circle it is!

Made my pattern pieces, two so that I could see how to fit them. The fabric has a decent thickness and I didn't want to fold it over and cut, opting to instead chalk out each piece individually on the fabric.

And yes, that is wrapping paper as usual with the square grids on the backside. I love this type of wrapping paper so handy! I cut out my fabric and took it to the sewing machine.

Next, I went ahead and did a zigzag stitch along all the edges except for the selvage. This fabric was showing how it would fray immediately. I washed it in the machine and this is what the edges looked like after drying.

Somehow, I messed up on the waist portion of the skirt panels and I had to take them down by 2". Not sure how I messed that up since I had the radius calculated. I tested this by holding them up to my body and realizing it was off.

Recall, that I have a very limited amount of this fabric, fearing something odd, I went ahead and sewed the front pieces together selvage to selvage and then the back ones. When I held them up to my waist they were still slightly off. I put in the right side seam and made sure all my seams were pressed. Something about my top of the panel pattern is off by a smidge and I need to put in about 3" of a spacer. I decided to put it down for the day and I'll figure out how to put that piece in, since the hips are okay?

It will also allow for me to decide if I want to be lazy and put in a side zipper. I'll go back and put a pocket in the right seam for sure. The next day - I went ahead and made a triangle to wedge into the gap area before putting in the zipper. I held the skirt up to my waist and measured it with my measuring tape. I zigzag stitched it and put it in the spot.

I also pressed the seam well. Then I decided to put in an invisible zipper in the spot for a side zip. I had to unpick the seam a bit to fit the zipper in further and get it up around my hips. Whoops.

Due to adding in the wedge the zipper is at a bit of an angle as shown here. I estimated the zipper coming up higher on the waistband so, I but in a hook and eye on the top to pull it together.

It turned out fine, I'm so limited by the fabric I have to work with. I still have enough to put in pockets on the right side. However, with the skirt cranked out in less than 24 hours, I have it now hanging to even out the hem. It hangs the right way so I'll take it.

Always remember to let your garment hang before hemming. I'm likely going to put some bias tape on the bottom, since this fabric is very prone to fray and then fold that up as opposed to a double folded hem. It is in place and will hang out in the closet for a day or two!

That's all for now! I'll start working on the aoqun this week as a modified pattern from my previous ones.

[belongtodeukae]

63 + 70 with minji please thank uuu🥺

“We’re crossing a line doing this” & “This is our little secret, okay?”

-

a/n: to another anon that also requested #63 with minji, this one’s for you too ♥️

—————

(7:23 pm) “are you sure your members won’t be mad about me being here?” you asked cautiously since you already felt bad enough entering someone else’s dorm. minji let out an ironic laugh before pushing you against the front door she had closed moments before and kissing you eagerly. she sighed against your mouth, pressing your lips together over and over again to leave you light-headed.

“that... doesn’t answer my question”, you managed to let out, sounding intoxicated once she pulled back. one of her eyebrows went up at the same time her fingers lifted up the hem of your shirt for an easier access to the waistband your jeans, movements contrary to the answer that followed, “not really.”

“minji!” you uttered and immediately went to stop her fingers that were busy working on your zipper, but her strength was proven once she easily grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them against the door right above your head, “they would be mad if they were home. we have a strict policy of not bringing anyone here”. 

you couldn’t control the shock that was evident on your face, “that doesn’t help at all!” minji hushed you with a quiet sound before she leaned in closer, “they won’t find out, okay?”

she brought your wrists closer together so she could trap both of them under one hand, while the other slid down your body. the already undone zipper of your jeans gave her easy access and her slender fingers slipped inside of your panties, making immediate contact with the most sensitive part of you. you took in a sharp breath at the contact and tried to keep your body still.

“we’re crossing a line doing this”, minji said as she watched your face delicately while you struggled to control its expressions of pleasure, her fingers gliding in between your folds to spread the wetness that was coming out, “and i’m enjoying it so fucking much.”

you couldn’t deny the slight feeling of rush at the fact you were doing something that was forbidden, minji’s excitement rubbing off on you. you leaned forward to satisfy your urge to taste her lips again and she accepted it with greed. her mouth opened slightly, inviting you in as she hummed against you. your tongues connected at the same time you felt two of her fingers protruding your entrance, sliding in without difficulty once you hooked one of your legs around her hips.

“god”, you let out an obscene cry in minji’s mouth at the feeling of her fingers inside of you while her knuckles pressed against the skin around the entrance. 

“oh, you’re taking them so good”, she purred as she left rough kisses on your jaw once it went up in pleasure. she decided to lower the kisses to the front part of your neck, adding heated licks in between each one, “this is our little secret, okay?”

you nodded as much as the angle of your head allowed you, earning a low chuckle from minji when she pulled back from your neck, “such a good girl”, she purred before freeing your wrists from her grasp and letting her hand caress your cheek. the difference of the gentle sensation on your face and the rough pounding you were receiving from her other hand sent your head into the clouds. 

your hips instinctively started meeting minji’s thrusts, provoking a face-eating smirk from her right before you felt her thumb pressing against your clit firmly. even more impure sounds that belonged to you echoed in the dimly lit hallway and you raised your hands up to both sides of minji’s head, needing some kind of support due to the weak feeling in your legs. tips of your fingers were buried in her hair, curling up slightly to scratch her scalp and let her know how good she’s making you feel. 

“are you close, princess? i can feel how much you’re clenching around me”, she murmured with a smile as if she was mocking you for how desperate you were. all you could do is nod once before you were pulled in by the back of your neck, minji’s tongue meeting yours to swallow the river of moans that was impossible to hold back.

a few more thrusts was all it took for you to fall apart and start trembling against her as she kept whispering praises, swiping her tongue across your bottom lip due to your struggle to calm down to kiss her properly.

“how about you let me ride that pretty face on the couch right there so we cross another line?”

[sewingsillythings]

TOS Dress Failures Post

So as I mentioned, I'm beginning a little post here about things I did wrong with my first (yellow) Star Trek: TOS dress, and in the coming days I'll post a few updates about my second (red) dress, and try to show off what I'm doing differently! I am very much an amateur sewer, so maybe don't expect this to be super comprehensive, but I'm going to do my best to talk about the issues I had and just try to shed some light on what ended up being a pretty bare bones pattern. So much stuff I could have done better, some my own folly, some issues with the pattern.

To give you an idea, this is everything that came with the pattern:

The instructions page is double sided, but the other side is just a sizing chart and recommended fabric types, in fact, the instructions occasionally mentioned diagrams that I did not receive, however, from my scouring the internet, this really is the best pattern if you want the right looking fit of the tos skant dresses, so I went with it anyway.

Some of the issue I ran into were:

Length: The little I saw online did suggest you lengthen the skirt and yeah, they were right. I did try to do this, but my lack a familiarity with the patterns made it really inconsistent.

Although the front is actually a good length, it's uneven because I tried to eyeball it (laziness strikes again), and the back (which I obviously didn't do as well) is waay too short for me to consider wearing in public. But the main issue was, being new to the pattern, I didn't realize that piece 'C' would also be forming part of the hemline, leading to this:

As you can see this was a combo of my own follies and lack of comprehensive instructions.

Solution: add a specific amount of CMs to the pattern length and add it every piece (except the H&D sleeve pieces). I will make a post about this when I begin cutting my red fabric to show you all exactly what I'm doing, because I want to make some more measurements before I settle on a length.

2. Sleeves: The guides also said the lengthen and widen the sleeves, which I didn't do but definitely should have, I ripped so many seams just trying it on because the sleeves were too tight:

I also used super stretchy fabric for this yellow dress, so with the cotton I'm using this time I will definitely have to be careful about adding a fair amount of width.

I will say the sleeve length is more of a matter of taste, but for an accurate costume I want them at least to my wrists, and this pattern's sleeve barely reached them, so lengthening is also a good idea. It's always easier to take something in than to let it out!

Solution: Add a few cm to the sleeve width and length, I will probably be doing 5cm extra for both because it's a nice round number, and gives me some wiggle room. For Americans in the audience this is about 2 inches.

3. Zipper: With the stretchy fabric I used I almost definitely did not need a zipper. So I didn't fully put it in. Basting the zipper is step 5 of the pattern, so I just sort of... basted it in and then never fully attached it or made the zipper opening because I was confused about where it went. This is where the pattern insists I should have been following a diagram I did not have:

But I did have the little picture, where the zipper is hidden in the pleat, like so:

As you can see there is supposed to be a slit in the fabric for the zipper to peek through, but the fabric I used was stretchy enough that I could basically just pull it on. Therefore, I never actually cut the slit and just pulled it on. With my less stretchy cotton I will have to put in a zipper, which will be okay because I figured out how to do it properly.

Solution: Instead of sewing the zipper all the way down right away (what I did) you are only supposed to sew it to the top part of the pattern, and leave the hidden/skirt part to sew in later. To be fair, the pattern does say this, I was just confused about the pleating due to my inexperience which led to confusion about the zipper. Generally though, next time, I will start at the top of the garment and work my way to the bottom... that maybe should have been obvious.

So those were the major problems I dealt with with this pattern, and they're also why I'm excited to try it again and make a better version!

I also had a lot of trouble with the pleating, but that was genuinely just my inexperience and not the pattern giving me issues. I could make another post about the problems I had with that if there are other beginners who might want some tips though.

[sheliesshattered]

It's been about two and a half weeks since I posted my update about our trip to Batuu -- and it has been a weird two and half weeks. Shortly after I finished that post, Jack and I found out that our work contract was ending abruptly, effective March 1st. We always knew that was a possibility, and we're difficult to scare at this point, especially when it comes to work stuff, so where that might have filled some people with quite a lot of dread, Jack and I were both just like 'welp, I guess this is happening.'

We knew about a couple of possibilities for new work, but we figured we'd have at least two weeks off in between, just while we got everything lined up. Besides chasing down those potentials for a new contract, we also used the free time to get a bunch of household chores out of the way, things like taxes and taking the car into the shop and then getting it smog tested, going in for eye exams, all the sort of things that are easy to put off during the work week and then not want to do on the weekend.

And in between all that I actually got some sewing done too, lol. Whenever I first wear something that I sewed, I take notes on anything that needs to be fixed or adjusted or changed, and while I was generally happy with my outfit for our Batuu Bounding day, there were a few small things I wanted to fix about it -- both in the hopes of wearing it to Batuu again at some point, and so that the pieces can be worn on their own with other clothing.

For the sweatshirt I sewed to go underneath the blue linen vest, I actually knew what I wanted to change before we went to Batuu, but specifically put off making those changes until after our big Disney day. It was fine under the vest, but without the vest it fit a bit awkwardly: the edge finishing on the collar gaped open and didn't want to lay right, and the side seams flared out too much over the hips.

I ended up trimming the collar edging down to a much narrower width, like I said I might back near the beginning of February. I played around with adding another detail there, maybe a stand up collar just in the back, but in the end decided it looks fine with just that narrow trim.

To fix the flare over the hips, I ended up needing to take out the cool detail on the side seam. Sewing that up as a regular seam allowed me to fiddle with the fit much easier, and it also removed a lot of bulk from those multi-layered exposed seams. It fits under the vest even better now than it did before, and I can wear it without the vest, just with jeans or leggings or whatever.

For the vest, I was generally happy with the fit, but wearing it around all day made it clear just how much I actually needed hooks and eyes to keep the flap over the zipper closed. I went back and forth on how to do the hooks and eyes, contemplated putting them on the outside of the flap before deciding to hide them under the flap instead. I hand sewed several of them down, but then when it was just creating weird bumps and ripples in the center front, I took all of them off except the one right at the underbust.

That one hidden hook and eye was only just barely enough to keep the flap over the zipper from swinging open, so this last week I took off that one hook and eye pair, then started hand sewing them to the outside instead. I placed the one at the underbust first, since that's the most fitted point, then spaced the hooks out along the outside of the overlap at even spacing so that the top one ended up right at the very top corner of the flap.

My first round of sewing on a bunch of these taught me not to try to match up the eyes with the hooks by measurement or by what lays flat on my table, but rather to actually put the vest on and thread an eye through each hook and use tailor's chalk to mark where each eye needed to go. Like the rest of the vest, it absolutely will not lie flat on the table, but it fits me wonderfully, with no ripples or weird bumps along that center front edge.

I ended up really liking the way the exposed clasped looked, and I think it adds a really subtle Star Wars-y type detail. The black hooks and eyes nearly disappear on the dark blue linen (far more than in these well-lit photos), so they end up being just a bit of texture and visual interest rather than yelling about their claspiness.

Most of the time I'll wear it as in the photo above, with the top two clasps undone. The weight of the large metal hooks helps the triangular edge of the undone flap hang properly, which was another problem I had with it during our Batuu visit.

But the design really felt like it demanded a fully functional closure, so I added two more hooks up past the point where they're needed to actually cover the zipper. Leaving just one clasp undone results in a cool, slightly more asymmetric neckline:

And closing it all the way to the top creates a very sleek, buttoned-up kind of look.

I have some ideas about other pieces of clothing that I might be able to pair this vest with, and hopefully an excuse to wear my whole Batuu Bound outfit again in the near-ish future. Either way, I'll get some pictures of the updated vest on me sometime soon.

And since the new contract situation has worked itself out -- Jack and I will officially be back at it with a new client starting this week -- we're contemplating going to one of the Star Wars After Dark dates at Disneyland in April or May. I'll definitely wear the vest then, and possibly the sweatshirt too, depending on the night time temperatures predicted for whenever we end up going.

With that in mind, there's a new stash-busting sewing project I've started as well, but it really deserves its own post. Watch this space.

[petersspidey]

Laundry Day

Summary: Y/N needs help carrying her laundry down to the laundry room and Bucky steps in to save the day. But he also has a load of his own ;)

Warnings: a lot of smut

Word Count: 3154 (its so long wtf)

MASTERLIST

Sometimes you hated Tony.

Like when he was overly cocky, and almost ruining your missions but somehow coming out the hero. Or when he tells the team something you didn't want all of them to know.

But you have never hated him more than when he put the laundry in the basement of the Avengers compound. You argued with him when he was first building it. He put your room on the top floor in the furthest possible wing from the laundry and unlike almost all of the Avengers you did not have super strength. So carrying your laundry across the entire building and down eight flights was not exactly easy.

So every two weeks you would spend 15 minutes just getting your dirty laundry from your room down to the laundry room, cursing Tony's name every time.

So there you were, the second Sunday of every month leaving your room, with an overflowing basket of laundry in your hand. As soon as you opened your door it felt like you ran into a brick wall. You toppled backward landing on your ass, and you had completely dropped your basket. Your clothes had spilled everywhere.

You sighed, and looked up.

"Sorry, Y/N." Bucky said

He bent down, starting to help you pick up your clothes.

"It's ok," you sighed, joining him in placing everything back into the basket.

"What were you doing standing outside my room anyway?" you asked

"I wasn't standing outside your room … I just happened to be walking past right as you opened your door."

You laughed, "ok Buck. Whatever you say."

He huffed in frustration. You always knew how to get under his skin, but he also knew how to get under yours.

Bucky helped you pick up the last few items of your laundry, when he held up something in front of your face.

You black lace thong. Your eyes widened, and you quickly snatched it from his hands.

You quickly threw the last things into your basket, and stood up.

"Well, thanks for the help. I gotta go."

You tried to get out of there as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burning red over the fact that Bucky just had your dirty underwear in his hand. But, your basket once again held you back. You lifted it, but had to walk slowly, barely able to see over the top of the mountain of clothes.

"Do you need some help?" Bucky asked, watching you walk away

"Nope. I'm good," you yelled back.

Bucky eyed you for a second, before turning to walk away. You continued down the hall, slowly making your way to the elevator. After barely making it anywhere. You placed the basket down for a moment, resting your arms. You stretched your back, and before you could bend down again to scoop up your basket Bucky was standing beside you, reaching down to grab it.

"I said I didn't need help," you said

"Yeah, and as much fun as it was watching you struggle to carry this and need to take a break five seconds in, I figured I'd just lend you a hand," he said

"Well it's not my fault I'm not a supersoldier like you," you muttered

Bucky chuckled and started walking down the hall toward the elevator.

"You carry this by yourself every week? How do you go through so many clothes?" he asked

"Well, every other week. But, yes."

"And! This is not an abnormal amount of clothes for two weeks, thank you very much." you continued

"You know, if you did laundry every week you might not have such an issue getting down to the laundry room." Bucky said, smirking at you.

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever, Barnes."

"You're just upset because you know I'm right."

As you approached the elevator, you pressed the button and Bucky put your laundry down.

"Thanks, I think I've got it from here," you said.

The elevator doors opened, and once again, before you could grab your basket Bucky managed to get a hold of it first.

"Really, Bucky. It's ok I'll be fine from here."

"Are you forgetting about the long hallway downstairs?" He said, stepping onto the elevator with your clothes.

You huffed, and followed him on.

"I'm a big girl. I can do it myself."

The doors closed and you began to descend.

"Oh don't get your little lacy panties in a twist,  I wasn't doing anything else I don't mind giving you a hand." Bucky said, smirking at you, knowing exactly how you'd react.

Your face became red again.

"Don't talk about my underwear."

"If you don't want me talking about your underwear maybe you should move the hot pink g-string that you have sitting at the top of your basket."

You lightly gasp, and reach over, pulling the pair off the top and shoving them down the side of your basket.

Bucky chuckled again. Knowing he was embarrassing you.

The elevator stopped, and you both stepped off into the basement, heading down the long hall to the laundry room.

"You must've done something to make Tony mad if he put your room so far from the laundry."

"I'm fully convinced he just likes to cause me problems. He probably has FRIDAY watching me on the cameras. I do not doubt one bit that he laughs at me hauling this downstairs twice a month."

Bucky laughed at your statement.

You smiled back at him. You don't see him smile much. It was a good change.

You turn the corner with Bucky. You could see the laundry room door at the end of the hall now. The two of you walk silently until you reach the door. You open it, and Bucky walks in in front of you and places your basket full of clothes down in front of one of the washers.

"Thanks for helping me. Would've taken me twice as long to get down here if I was by myself."

"It's no problem. It's always fun to show off my strength to a pretty lady."

"Oh so I'm a pretty lady?" you teased

Bucky blushed.

You smirked, and opened the washing machine lid. You began loading your clothes in. Bucky stood near you, leaning on the dryer right beside.

"You don't have to wait down here with me," you told him

"I figured I'd just wait and walk back upstairs with you."

"It's really ok, Buck. I usually just hang out down here until my loads are done. It's only a 30 minute cycle."

"Well maybe I'll just hang out down here with you…" Bucky said, as if he was waiting for your permission.

"Sure, I guess. If you really want to."

You filled up one machine, and threw the detergent in, shutting the lid. You moved over to another machine and began putting in a second load.

You heard Bucky chuckling, and turned around to look at him.

"What?" you questioned

"You have so many clothes that you have to use two washing machines." He said, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever Barnes. It's because unlike you, I don't wear the same Henley's and jeans every day."

"No, you wear different coloured thongs every day." he teased

You finished placing all the laundry in the machine, and left your basket on the floor.

You walked back toward where Bucky was standing and jumped up onto one of the empty machines, sitting on the lid.

"You really just sit down here on top of a dryer waiting by yourself? You know there's a table and chairs right there." Bucky said

"Usually, yeah. Sometimes I bring a book down, but it's nice and quiet down here…" you started

"Well, usually I'll sit on top of one of the washing machines that I'm using, and not the empty dryer," you added, knowing exactly what you were insinuating.

Bucky's eyes shot up to you. "What?" he asked, thinking he hadn't heard you right.

"You heard me." you confirmed

"Well, alright. So why aren't you sitting on one of those today?"

"Well, usually only something I do while I'm down here alone."

"Don't be shy, doll."

Something about the way Bucky said doll, made you squirm. You hesitated for a second before you got off the dryer, and walked toward the machine that you had just turned on, climbing on top of it. You sat, letting your legs hang over the edge, eyes on Bucky.

The vibrations from the machine were shooting through you, pulsating right to your center. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. You could hear Bucky walking closer, he lightly spread your legs and stood in between them. You opened your eyes. Bucky's face was inches from yours. He leaned in closer, taking either side of your face in his hands. You expected his metal hand to be cold against your face, but it was almost as warm as his other.

He looked you in the eyes, before bringing your face towards his, pressing a sloppy kiss against your mouth (ok but think Endings, Beginnings kiss - his character with Shailene Woodly). You leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth more, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. You wrapped your legs around his back, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could. The vibrations from the machine, still sending pulses right to your core.

You could already feel yourself getting more wet by the second. Bucky's mouth on yours mixed with the feeling of the machine below you. You needed more. You ran your hands down Bucky's body, reaching underneath his shirt to feel his skin. Bucky ran his hands over you, one of his fingers grazing against you hard nipple poking through your shirt. You moaned into his kiss.

Bucky slid his hands under your shirt and began lifting it. You raised your arms over your head, allowing him to take your shirt off. You broke your kiss as he lifted your shirt over your head. He stared at your bare chest as he threw your shirt to the side. You pulled him close, shoving your lips back against his.

His hands roamed your bare back, holding you tight against him. He began kissing down your neck, toward your chest. You leaned back on your hands, allowing him easier access to your hard nipples.

You moaned, and allowed your head to fall back as he swirled his tongue around your breast. His hands fumbled with the buttons on your jeans, undoing the zipper. He pulled away, and urged you to lift up your bottom so he could rip your jeans from your legs.

He tossed them aside, and looked at you sitting in only your underwear. He smirked, seeing how wet they were.

"Granny panties?" he questioned

"Shut up, all my good pairs are in the laundry." you said, taking your panties off yourself, leaving you completely exposed. He stood, looking at you, enjoying the sight. You looked down and saw his cock fighting against the zipper of his jeans.

Bucky groaned before touching you.

"Lie down," he ordered, placing one hand on your chest, getting you to lie your back completely flat on the machine.

You twitched as your bare back hit the cold metal of the washer, before settling in.

You looked down at Bucky, just as he was bending over placing a long lick against your slit. You moaned loudly, not expecting him to do that. He looked up at you as he placed another lick, taking in your wetness.

He saw the look of ecstasy on your face and took it as a sign to keep going. He dove into your pussy, face first. You gasped, and arched your back, only pressing your wetness deeper into Bucky's face. Bucky teased you, leaving small, gentle strokes along your clit.

You wrapped your legs tight around his head, "stop teasing me," you begged

You could feel him smirk, "anything for you, doll."

Bucky began pressing his tongue harder against your clit. Moving it up, down, and in circles. You moaned loudly, your grip tightening on his hair.

The vibrations from the machine and his tongue on you were too much. You began thrusting up against his face. You wanted nothing more than him inside of you.

"Buck, please." you moaned

Bucky brought one of his hands up toward your breast. He kneaded it in his hand as his tongue dove around your pussy. He flicked your hard nipple between his fingers. You cried out in pleasure. You could feel your orgasm building.

"Don't stop, i'm so close," you whined out

Bucky didn't stop. He continued sucking on your clit until you could feel your walls come crashing down. You pulled on his har, and tighten your legs around his head as he continued through your orgasm.

When you finally calmed down, you slowly let your grip on him go. You were panting, lying back on the still vibrating washing machine, staring at the ceiling, taking in that feeling of ecstasy.

Bucky stood up and stared at you. He loved the sight of you. You were panting, cheeks red, a total mess. All for him.

Bucky looked around, thinking of how and where he was going to fuck you. He eyed the table.

"Get up, doll." he told you

You sat up, breathless, "Why,"

"Machine's too tall, beautiful. Can't fuck you up there."

Just hearing Bucky say that made your pussy twitch. He placed either hand on your hips and helped you down. You stood, leaning against the washing machine as Bucky began undressing in front of you.

He tossed his shirt to the side, and began taking his pants down. He stood in front of you in only his underwear.

"Take them off," you begged

Bucky gave you a smug look before pulling them down as well.

You moaned, just at the sight of him. You hadn't realized that the supersoldier serum would affect that part of him as well.

You moved toward him, taking his huge cock in your hand. You ran your finger over his tip, precum already leaking out

"Fuck," he muttered

"That's the idea," you said.

Bucky gripped your hips tight, shoving you toward the table in the corner of the room. He lifted you up and sat you down on the edge.

"Lean back, so I can shove my dick in you." he ordered

You obeyed. Lying flat on the table, bringing your heels up so they were resting on the table as well. You kept your eyes on Bucky, he traced his finger up and down between your folds. You twitched at the smallest touch.

"Please," you whined

Bucky grinned at you, before taking his cock in his hand, and lightly brushing it up against you.

Bucky lined himself up with your entrance, and slowly slid inside. You cried out in pleasure the deeper he got. You felt so tight with his massive cock. You watched Bucky push the rest of himself in. He shot his head back, mouth open, moaning loudly.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he said breathlessly

You both stayed still, taking in the feeling of Bucky stretching you out. He pulled you closer to him, taking either of your legs and putting them over his shoulders. When he pulled you tight against him, you could feel him get even deeper inside of you.

Bucky slowly began to rock in and out of you. The feeling overwhelming. You couldn't hold in your moans. Never had it felt so good to have someone so close and so deep inside of you.

You shot your hand down to your clit, moving it slowly between your fingers as Bucky began to pick up his pace. You already knew it wasn't going to take much for you to come again, especially with how Bucky was moving in and out of you.

Bucky slowed his pace, sliding out of you, and then pushing back in hard. You circled your clit harder as he continued thrusting in and out.

He pushed in, and you moaned hard, arching your back.

"Right there, don't stop." you said

Bucky kept his pace, thrusting in and out. He knew you were close to coming again.

"Such a good girl," he said to you

Hearing Bucky call you that was enough. You circled your clit twice more before your walls came crashing down. Your other hand gripped the side of the table.

"Oh my god,"

Your pussy twitched around his dick, but he didn't stop moving. He continued fucking you through your orgasm.

You groaned, knowing if he kept going like this another orgasm wouldn't be far behind. Both your arms were spread, gripping different ends of the table. Bucky brought his hand down to your clit. Running his thumb over it, over, and over, and over again.

Bucky rocked his hips into you, thrusting hard and fast. You moaned every time you felt him hit deep inside of you, his thumb still running over your clit. Your walls clenched against his dick once more. That was exactly what he needed. Bucky threw his head back, pulling himself out of you, spurting his come all over your stomach.

Bucky stood in front of you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders. you were still lying back on the table. Both of you stayed silent, trying to catch your breath.

The washing machine began to sing.

"Guess you got three loads done today," Bucky joked, cracking a small grin, looking down at you.

"Oh my god." you said, rolling your eyes at his awful joke.

Bucky held out his hand to you, offering to help you off the table. You grabbed his hand, and stood up. Your faces were only a few inches from each other.

"We should probably clean you up," Bucky said, not taking his eyes off of you.

You sighed, as Bucky turned away to grab you a towel from across the room.

You cleaned yourself off, and you both got dressed again. Bucky stayed with you as you switched your laundry from the washing machines into the dryers, 100% eyeing your ass as you bent over.

"Ever sit on top of the dryer?" Bucky joked.

"Too hot," you answered, laughing slightly.

You walked toward Bucky, he was sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He grabbed your hand pulling you close to him. You sat down on his lap, and he gripped your face with one of his hands, placing a long kiss on your lips.

"Maybe I should start helping you with your laundry every week," he stated

"Every other week," you corrected.

"No, darling. Every week."

[jikook-yoonmin-trash]

YOONGI X READER (DIRTY IMAGINE)

Rating: E for Explicit

No one asked for this but I'll deliver anyways. I know I'm not consistent but I'm trying to be committed to something to stay sane. Lets go.

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Yoongi had been locked in his studio all week. Being the perfectionist that he was, you knew it would take a miracle to get him out of there. He was working on a new Hip Hop piece with some foreign artist and it stirred something inside, deep and longing. You knew he was passionate and you knew how much he wanted to get this done.

But seeing him so focused and concentrated at the small window of time you visited stirred something in you, deep and longing. Your relationship with him hadn't always been physical, he sought after comfort and companionship, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't turn you on.

Especially on days where he wear shirts that dipped to low, or days where he came straight from his schedule with Bangtan- fully decked out from head to toe with perfect hair and accessories for days.

Like right now for instance.

You weren't sure who was sitting in front of you; Min Yoongi, Suga or Agust D. Whomever it was, you were ready to please.

"Got you some coffee and snack."

Yoongi took a break from writing to look up at you with a little smile. Cute. His hair was pushed back and he looked so devastatingly handsome that for a second you forgot that he was yours, and you forgot to breathe. You couldn't help but notice the thick silver rings on his fingers as he reached for the coffee. You've always had a thing for his hands.

"Thank you babe, wanna sit for a while?" Yoongi asked, looking up at you from mid sip.

With his legs sprawled out like that, it seemed like an invitation- open and inviting. The material of his pants were thick but you could make out the outline of his legs just fine. Perfect legs. Perfect seat.

Feeling bold, you rushed forward and found yourself sitting between his legs. His hands were immediately around you with the gentle sound of his laughter.

"You did say sit." You teased, leaning into his warm chest.

"I did."

Yoongi hummed and swiveled the chair to face his computer. With the coffee set aside and his hands occasionally clicking the keys on his laptop, you both fell into a comfortable silence. Yoongi's head nuzzled against your neck as he furiously wrote down lyrics. All you were concerned about was his hands. He had beautiful hands.

As time progressed, you found the urge to be fondled or even feel him move against you was increasing. Yoongi knew all your tricks. If you tried grinding against him that would only warrant a scolding or worst, him banning any kind of sexual activity until next week. He'd do it, you knew him well enough to not cross him. Especially because he's so busy.

"Yoongi?"

"Mmm." He hummed, kissing your neck.

"You look cute today."

"Mmm, Namjoon called me Daddy. He thought you would like it."

"Namjoon's not wrong."

One of his hand wrapped around you, while the other worked with a pen and paper. He rubbed small circles into your stomach and hummed appreciatively.

"What did you do today beautiful?" His deep voice was calming, you were stuck between wanting to bask in his touches or fall asleep to whatever hypnotic trance he had you in.

"Work was good as usual. I also got my paper done, I'm really proud of it."

"Good girl. You've worked so hard."

You received another kiss on the neck. Before you could respond, his hand dipped under your shirt (his shirt) and cupped both of your breasts in his hands. His ringed thumb swiped over your nipple leaving a cool shocking sensation behind.

"You're not wearing a bra?" His tone was teasing. Had you not seen the small smile tugging on his lips you would think he was upset.

"Hate wearing those."

"Mmm. Anything else I should know." He asked, still fondling your breasts.

"Perhaps a couple things."

"Oh yeah, like what."

You were about to tease him, but the tugging and pinching of your nipple was enough to sedate your urge to toy with Yoongi. It felt really good, especially since you were already worked up earlier.

"Like what baby?"

He was now pressing kisses up your neck with little bites. The pen and paper was abandoned and his now free hand took refuge in the inside of your thigh, prying your legs open.

"Like, I think you should use your hands to make me cum."

He laughed, his chest vibrating against your back.

"Mmm, figured as much. You just sat right on my lap with no hesitation." You were squirming under his touch. "Take off your pants baby. I'll make you cum right here."

Without question, those pants along with your panty were flying to the other side of the room and Yoongi was spreading your legs until they hooked on the handle of either sides of the chair. From his angle, he could see your entire pussy spread out. He could see how wet you were from just a simple touch.

"Dirty."

He sucked a finger and circled it around your clenching core, feeling the heat of your wetness. His finger was teasing you in small strokes and he purposely flicked your clit.

Your body laid flush against his, lifeless even with your head lolled off to the side as he slowly rubbed circles around your clit, missing it on purpose. Yoongi was a nasty tease, he loved drawing out your orgasm and then letting it hit you in waves when you'd least expect it.

"Did you miss me this much? Had to storm into my workplace and demand that I make you cum with my hands."

His free hand was busy rolling your nipple between his thumb and index, tugging whenever he felt like it.

"Not my fault you look so good." You hummed.

"Wanna taste you, let me taste you please."

"Yeaah. Please Yoongi."

In seconds you found yourself being thrown on the desk in front of you. Your legs were splayed out with your hands resting on either side of your body for support. Yoongi ducked his head, laid close to your inner thigh and gazed up at you.

There was a glint of mischievousness sparkling in his dark gaze. He pushed you back hard, your back knocking into the monitor, your hand was busy smashing into the keyboard to find purchase.

"Yoongi!" You hissed, "Your fucking computer is behind me."

His tongue found its way on the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to the new heart beat centered in your hot dripping pussy.

"I will crush your head if you keep teasing me." You threatened. Yoongi had the nerve to laugh, as if he didn't believe you.

"An honorable death for an honorable man."

He finally gave in, and sucked lightly around your clit. His tongue flicking softly at the sensitive spot. You were too busy moaning and heaving, so when he inserted a finger, followed by another you found it extremely taxing to hold back your screams. They were loud and needy. And Yoongi was tending to them.

The thing about Yoongi is that, he knew how to use his fingers and he was an expert with his mouth. Every time he angled his fingers upwards to rub at area that made you see stars, he also added pressure to his tongue. He was sucking and licking your orgasm closer while he finger fucked you. The noises were loud and sinful. The room was heated with wet squelches each time his finger thrust into you.

"Uuuuhgh, Just like that Yoongi. Fuuuuuuuck mee!"

Unable to control the intensity of the feeling, you grabbed onto his hair and pressed him closer- possibly suffocating him in the process. Your hips were grinding circles into his face, finding it easier to chase your own orgasm this way.

"Yeaah!"

"Yeaaaaah!"

"Fuuuuuck Yooongi Mmmmmhhh!"

Your leg wrapped around his neck and pulled him in, locking his head in place as your orgasm hit. It was so intense, your ears were ringing and eyes rolled back as the endorphins wore off. Yoongi was still working his tongue, slowly, sending light shockwaves through your core.

"Baby, I love you and your pussy but please let go."

"No Yoongi, not when you make me cum like that. I feel like I'm floating."

"Oh yeah, I feel like I'm drowning in you."

Reluctantly, you let go. Yoongi's face was glossy with your arousal but he hadn't made any attempts to clean it, only smiling at you in return.

You heard the familiar sound of his belt being unbuckled and the zipper running down. His cock was standing upright, shining with his own arousal. Yoongi looked spent leaning back in his chair. He looked like he owned you and everyone else in this building with his cocky smile and the wicked look in his eye.

"Come sit on my cock baby. Lets finish this song together." He smirked.

And just like that, his cock was nestled into your warm sensitive pussy as he worked on lyrics to his new song. This was going to be a long night.

"You know the rules baby, don't move and don't touch your pussy. If you want something you ask me. Okay baby."

"Yes Yoongi."

"Good girl. This is going to take a while."

[piratesfromspace]

You Again (Frank Castle/Reader)

Frank Castle (the Punisher) x Reader

Word count: 1.5k TW: light description of wound and bruises, implied rape attempt, mention of alcohol, canon-typical violence, reader has ✨issues✨

Female pronouns for reader

Note: Some hurt/comfort with Frank Castle. For unknown reasons, reader can’t go see a normal doctor. This story was inspired by an unpublished fanfic written by a dear friend of mine, in which Frank already helps reader.

MASTERLIST

“You. Again.”

You never had been so happy to hear his gruff voice. 

“And you’re a fuckin’ mess.” Frank added, tone flat.

“You should see the other guy.” you croaked, trying as best as you could to smile despite the cut on your lower lip.

You were, indeed, a mess. 

Battered and bloody, you were sitting - or more accurately slouching - on the dirty floor, in front of one of Castle’s hideouts door, on a random Tuesday night. Your right hand was badly hiding the knife’s wound on your stomach, the gash in your blood-soaked T-shirt obvious behind your feeble fingers. Angry bruises were already blooming around your wrist, adding yet another painful layer to your miserable appearance. 

“Fuck.” He let the word slip between gritted teeth while scanning your body. You were not in great shape. 

“Fine, come here, don’t bleed out on my front porch.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, while you tried to put yourself on your feet, before admitting you were too weak to accomplish the simple task.

“I-I can’t... stand up.” 

Frank closed his eyes for a second, exhaling through his nose, just like he would do to try and calm himself to avoid scolding a child. He eventually crouched beside you, slipping an arm under the crook of your knees, and the other behind your shoulders, gathering you in his arms and lifting you effortlessly like you weighed nothing. 

The door closed behind him thanks to a powerful kick of his foot, and you finally allowed yourself to relax a little, feeling safe for the first time in days. 

The dingy flat was nowhere near the level of comfort you would wish for yourself, but he was here, in this room, breathing and alive and focusing on you, and that was all that mattered at this moment. 

---

“I’m the first choice when it comes to patching you up I guess.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t have come if I had any other option.”

Frank was trying his best to stitch the wound on your stomach without hurting you too much, but the lack of anesthesia was making it difficult. The witty banter was one way of distracting you, and you were grateful for it.

“Done.” 

The needle clattered on the plate he had put on the floor next to the mattress you were lying on. You let out the breath you were holding, pain slowly radiating through your whole body, making his lazy way from the cut on your belly to the rest of your limbs, awakening in its path the dozens of bruises littering your skin. Your vision got blurry for a moment, ears ringing.

“Hey, stay with me.” his hand was on the side of your face, cradling your cheek while avoiding to touch the cuts on your lips. His warm and callused fingertips against your cheek gently brought you back to reality. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, cataloguing every cut and scratch, and you did not miss the way his eyes just narrowed for a second when they fell on your neck, his fingers hovering above the bruises there. 

“Are you hurt elsewhere?”

“No.” you knew the moment the word escaped your mouth that you had answered way too fast and way too loud for you to be believable.

“You’re so bad at lying it hurts to see you try, you know?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Since you’re the one bleeding on MY mattress, I would argue that it’s also my business now.” 

Your defense was pathetic and he was so patient with you, you wondered why you had to be such a defensive jerk sometimes. You slouched a little more, you wanted to disappear into his mattress. 

“Truth is… I-I don’t really know.” 

“Let me take a look.” It was not a question, but he waited nonetheless for you to nod your approval before helping you shimmy out of your torned jeans. You winced, the movement cruelly reminding you of the freshly stitched wound on your abs. 

“Do I need to kill someone?” was his only reaction when the galaxy of black and purple bruises on your thighs appeared from under your pants. 

“He’s already dead.” 

He knew you were not lying this time, the proudness in your soft voice too earnest to be faked. 

“What happened?” he asked, voice so low and caring, like he was talking to a wounded animal.

“You know what happened.” you answered sternly.

Frank wasn’t dumb and it would only take half a brain to do the maths and understand the situation given the bruises on your neck, wrists and thighs, and the broken zipper of your jeans.

“Do you need medication? Something for...” he seemed lost all of a sudden.

“No, Frank, I killed him before anything happened. That was the plan.”

“The plan? You planned on being attacked and… “ he froze, his mind working to make sense of your words. He quickly understood, his expression suddenly changing. If he was looking sorry a few seconds ago, now he was angry.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been up with this vigilante bullshit again?” 

“That’s rich coming from you.” you scoffed.

“You’re not a 6-foot-tall trained marine.”

“That’s the point, I can easily lure those guys, unlike you.” You cut him off.

“You should have told me first.”

“What? I don’t need your permission.”

“You need my protection.” he was starting to lose his patience.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Says the girl bleeding on my doorstep.” he snorted.

The bastard got a point.

“At least I’m trying to be useful.” you retorted, in a low blow, a foolish attempt to not lose too quickly.

“You won’t be useful when you’re dead.”

“Right now I wish I was.” you grumbled, running out of replies.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

“Fuck you Frank. Fuck you.” 

He was tiring. You should have known you had zero chance of winning this argument from the get go. You couldn’t even go and dramatically slam the door on your way out. Your shaking legs would barely carry you up. Ok, maybe, just maybe, he was right. Maybe it was a bad idea, and your injured body was just the proof of his implacable logic.

Frank rose on his feet slowly, a hand rubbing on the back on his head - he always did that when he was stressed and thinking too much. 

“Stay here until you’re somewhat healed.” his eyes were avoiding yours, his voice too soft whereas you wished he would be mad, because he would be way easier to fight him this way. “Please.”

It’s not like you were physically able to go anywhere else, and truth be told it’s not like you wanted to go anywhere else. The hurt in his voice made your heart clench. You had been unfair, just like usual. A stupid defense mechanism.

You thought about the last time he had to patch you up. A mean fever. Found you unconscious in a dark alley. Frank had taken good care of you, slowly bathed you in cold water to lower the fever, before tucking you against him under a blanket and nursing you back to life the following days. He had even kissed you that first night, and the next morning, when you felt better, he had pressed his body against yours and made you feel even better, this time with different means than some cold water. The memory of his kindness contrasting with your current ungratefulness had you on the verge of tears. 

You were mad at yourself. 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” you offered after what seemed like an eternity. 

”And… thank you.” you added, trying your best to not burst out crying right there. 

Castle said nothing, he just left for the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, before squatting next to you and handing you the precious liquid. You gulped the whole shot down, you had not realized before how parched you were. 

“You lost some blood, that’s why you’re dehydrated.” he explained matter of factly, voice devoid of hurt or anger, like your little scene had not existed. And that’s why I’m saying nonsense, you thought to yourself.

“I’ll bring you some more.” 

Before he could rise up again, you reached out to touch his face. The sudden movement sent sparks of pain through your guts but you did not flinch. His eyes bore into yours and you closed the distance between you. The kiss was soft then fierce, it felt like finally letting go of something that was burning you from the inside, your injury forgotten the second his lips touched yours. The taste of blood in your mouth was soon replaced by the taste of him and the lingering notes of the whiskey he surely drank before you arrived. 

Castle fell slowly on his knees, carefully hugging you, breaking the kiss only to bury his face in the crook of your neck and whisper inaudible praises between two “silly girl”. 

You closed your eyes. It felt like finally being home. Finally being safe.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Invisible Pain ~ Part 2

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1,860ish

Summary: You struggle shopping for a dress.

Notes: this is Part 2 to my other story Invisible Pain. Please read it before reading this. This is based on an experience I had last week. I literally had a panic attack in the dressing room.

“Are you getting a new dress for Tony’s party on Friday?” Natasha asked as you and her finished working out together.

“I don’t know,” you responded. “You?”

“Yeah. Want to go together later?”

“Sounds great.”

It had been a few months since the team found out about your rheumatoid arthritis. They had all been extremely supportive and caring, as well as overprotective. It took you tattling to Fury to get Tony and Steve to let you train again. Not to mention Bruce’s constant check ups and blood tests. Tony had even upgraded your watch to make it easier on himself and Bruce to track everything.

During the time since your illness came out, you and Tony had also become an official couple. To no one’s real surprise. He was so sweet and understanding about your illness, and had truly read everything he could on the subject. You in turn were caring and understanding about his struggles with PTSD, like you had been when you were friends.

“Hey honey,” Tony greeted coming into your shared room as you were trying to get undressed. “Need help?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You mind helping me undress? I’m struggling to get my shirt off.”

“Sure thing.” Tony came over and began taking your shirt off. “Are your shoulders bugging you today?”

“Yeah. I tried not to use them too much in training today, but I couldn’t help it.”

Tony shook it head slightly and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You need to be more careful.”

“It’s just my shoulders today, Tony. And I took some meds before you came it. I’ll be fine.”

He sighed as he finished taking your shirt off for you, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Do you need help in the shower?”

“I’ll be fine, Tony.” 

“You sure? Cause I can be of some help.”

“Maybe tonight.” You leaned in and gave him a small kiss. “I have to hurry so I can meet up with Nat. We’re going dress shopping for the party on Friday.”

“Oh? Need help?”

“Nope.”

“Will you send me a picture?”

“I’d rather not. I’m trying to see how speechless I can leave the great billionaire, playboy.” You walked into the bathroom with a wink, shutting the door behind you.

~~~

“How about this one?” Natasha wondered, holding up a dress.

“Sure, why not?” You replied, adding the dress to the growing pile in your arms. With your shoulders already aching, the rest of your arms were slowly following. “I think that I’m ready to go try them on now. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold all these.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in the fitting rooms. I’m just going to take one more look around before I start trying some on.”

You nodded before heading to the fitting room. Entering one, you laid the dresses out of the bench along the wall. You locked the door before trying to undress yourself. You sucked in a breath and winced as your shoulders screamed at you to not take your shirt off. Biting down on your bottom lip, you pulled your shirt over your head anyway. 

Slightly panting in relief, your head feel back and your eyes closes. You were trying to mentally cope with the pain. Taking another deep breath in, and slowly letting it out, you looked down at the dress on top. You lifted it so that you could see the back, revealing a long zipper. You sighed, upset at yourself for not noticing it sooner.

Because of your arthritis, you were unable to reach your back. So you wouldn’t be able to zip up the dress. You lifted it up and looked it over, sighing once again. The dress wouldn’t be able to be slipped over your head either. Putting the dress to the side, you began going over the other dresses in the pile, finding the same issue with them as well. Leaning back against the wall, you slid down it and buried your face in your hands. Why couldn’t you like a dress with a zipper on the side? Or, the bigger question, why do you have to have arthritis? 

You began to silently cry and panic slightly. How were you ever going to get a dress and surprise Tony? How were you ever going to be able to go dress shopping alone? There was a slight buzz on your wrist and you knew FRIDAY was sending information on your condition to Bruce and Tony, but you didn’t care at the moment. 

You don’t know how long you were sitting on the floor like that before you were interrupted.

“Hey, in there,” Natasha called, knocking on the locked door. “How’s it going?”

“Umm, it’s fine,” you replied, not sounding very convincing.

“Yeah? Find anything yet?”

“Not yet… uh, nothing’s fitting or looking good.”

“Really? Why don’t you show me? Maybe your mind is deceiving you.”

“Thanks, Nat, but I’m good. I think I’m just going to get dressed and go home. I’ll just wear something I already have.”

“Are you sure? I can go grab someth—“

“I’m good, Nat. Really. If you found something, go buy it and I’ll meet you out front.”

“…Okay. Meet you out front.”

~~~

It was painful getting your clothes back on. You could tell that Natasha knew that something was wrong, but wasn’t willing to push you about it. You went straight to your room, locking yourself in the connecting bathroom. You quickly swallowed down some medicine before putting some arthritis rub on your shoulders. Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to touch your hands together behind your back. On hand was going over a shoulder, the other was trying from the lower part of your back. Checking in the mirror, you could see that there was about 5 inches separating your hands from meeting. Tears trickled down your cheeks as you tried to push yourself to make them meet. 

“Honey?” Tony’s voice came from the other side of the door, with a slight knock. “Are you okay? FRIDAY’s sending Bruce and I some readings.” Instead of answering, you just let out a strangled sob. “Sweetheart? I’m coming in, okay?” FRIDAY unlocked the door and Tony quickly came in and pulled you into his arms. “What’s going on?”

“I—I can’t—I couldn’t—“

“Hold on, honey, you’re panicking.” He lifted you up so that you were sitting on the counter, and he cupped your face. “Just breathe, Y/N. Just breathe. I’m right here. And when you’re ready, you can tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I couldn’t find a dress.”

“Okay, that’s fine. You can wear something you already have.”

“No.” You shook your head slightly. “I couldn’t find a dress I could put on myself.”

“Oh.” Tony nodded, finally understanding.

“And I just wanted to look nice and surprise you.”

“Honey, you always look nice. Even when you’re dusty and have blood on you after a fight, you’re always the most beautiful person to me.”

“I just wanted to surprise you and I can’t even dress myself!” You slammed a fist against the counter.

“Woah! Honey!” He quickly grabbed your hand and pressed small kisses to it. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

“Why does it matter? I’m useless anyway, or I will be, sooner than we all want to admit.”

“Stop right there!” Tony held your face so that you had to look at him. “You are not useless, nor will you ever be. Yes, you have your struggles. But you are a fighter and have proven that you aren’t one to give up. Why now?”

“I’m just so tired of it, Tony… I just want to not feel this way anymore… I want to be able to dress myself and not have my joints screaming in pain every time I move. I want to be able to have sex with you and be able to enjoy every single second of it… I want to consider the possibility of maybe having kids, without my joints telling me no… I want to be normal.”

Tony chuckled, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. “Honey, there is no such thing as normal. And that is okay. It hurts me to know that you are struggling through all this and that there is so little I can do. But, I will be by your side through whatever you need. You need me to brush your hair and wash your body? I’m there. You need me to make the bed or help you dress? I’m there. You need me to do all the work during sex? I got you. I am here for you, even when the time comes that you may be wheelchair bound. I am not leaving and Bruce and I will not stop trying to find something that eases your pain.”

“I love you, Tony.”

“Love you too.” He pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “Now, how about we go dress shopping again and you let me enjoy helping you into a dress, okay?”

“Okay.”

~~~

Dress shopping with Tony was actually enjoyable. It helped that he was treating you like a queen the whole time. He helped you into each dress, occasionally pressing gentle kisses onto your exposed skin. He praised you in each dress, telling you how gorgeous you looked but that it was up to you whether or not you got the dress. None of the dresses though were calling to you, which wasn’t making you feel much better. 

“I have one more idea,” Tony said after you had just said no to the last dress in your fitting room. He quickly unzipped you. “I’ll be right back.”

He rushed out of the small room, leaving you confused. You cringed at you got out of the dress and put it back on the hanger. Hugging your mid section, you stood there, nervously waiting for Tony to return. When he did, he came back with a dress that wasn’t exactly on your list of choices.

“Tony, I don’t know,” you told him, shaking your head a little. 

“I know it’s usually not your style, but could you just try it on. For me?” 

He knew very well that you had a hard time saying no when he used his big brown eyes and asked like that. 

You sighed, “Fine.”

Tony was way too excited to get you into that dress. You let him, just wanting to make him happy, as he was just trying to do with you. You tried not look in the mirror at all as Tony helped you into the dress. 

“Done,” he said softly after getting you all zipped up.

You took a deep breath and finally examined yourself in the mirror. You were shocked. Yes, you would have never picked this dress out for yourself, but it was perfect. You looked at Tony in the mirror, who was silent.

“It’s perfect, Tony,” you said softly. “Absolutely perfect.”

He carefully wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. He smirked as he made eye contact with you in the mirror.

“No,” he responded at the same volume. “You’re perfect.”

Notes: Again, every experiences arthritis differently. This is just a sample on how I feel it. Thank you for reading and your support! If you enjoyed this please check out these:

My Superhero - Steve Rogers x Reader

Purple - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Here’s a sneak peak of more of my work to come:

2 - Out Of Time: Morgan Stark x Mom!Reader x Dad!Tony Stark

3 - Avengers x Teen!Reader

4 - Out Of Time: Uncle!Steve Rogers x Niece!Morgan Stark

5 - Tony Stark x Reader

6 - Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

7 - Sam Wilson x Reader

8 - Bucky Barnes x Patella Alta!Reader

9 - Tony Stark x Autistic!Reader

10 - Tony Stark x Reader

I also have more arthritis/autoimmune disease fics to come as well. So follow me to read more!

[theweasleysredhair]

congrats on the milestone ❤❤❤ can i ask for 22 smut, 38 smut and 41 also from smut w Freddie thank uuuu

theweasleysredhair’s 4.6k follower event!

[REQUESTS CLOSED]

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22. “Take off your clothes, but leave the heels on.”

38. “I’m gonna cum inside you.”

41. “I’m gonna fill you up.”

~~~

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 1423

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. including unprotected sex, just pure smut really, fred being hot

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @acciotwinz @rexorangecouny @mischi3f-manag3d @twinkyjohnson @whiz-bangs78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @diary-of-an-onliner @theweirdsideofstuff @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins @elf-punk | message or send an ask to be added to my smut taglist - you must be 18+!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

~~~

feedback appreciated greatly!! <3

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Did you really have to wear that dress?” His voice was low as he spoke against your ear, his breath hitting your skin as his tongue darted out to run along the outer rim of your ear.

You leant back into his chest as his hands snaked round your waist. “It’s just a plain red dress,” you looked up at Fred innocently, finding his gaze already on you. You, and him, knew for a fact that it wasn’t ‘just a plain red dress’ as you’d claimed.

He’d mentioned on multiple occasions how good you looked in red, and this dress - that ended a few inches above your knee and showed off the top of your cleavage - was one you’d purposely worn, knowing it’d get him riled up.

Paired with a pair of tall black stilettos, your makeup done to the nines and your hair styled perfectly, you knew Fred would be a goner.

He trailed kisses from below your ear to the back of your neck, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you back into him, suddenly feeling him harden against your bum as he moved his hips against you in time with the cheerful music.

To anyone nearby, it looked like he was dancing, but as he leaned round to gently bite the side of your neck, you knew his actions were less than innocent.

“You know your family are all here right?” You whispered, though you tilted your head to give him better access to your skin, holding onto one of his hands as they held your waist. And you were, of course, correct when you said this, considering you were currently stood on the outskirts of the tent where Bill and Fleur’s wedding celebrations were happening.

Fred licked over a mark he’d left and replied simply, “Then let’s go somewhere where they’re not.”

You felt the hand you weren’t holding dance across your stomach and down your thigh, his fingers playing with the hem of your dress.

“Let’s go then.”

It took slightly longer than expected to get to Fred’s old room in the Burrow, mostly considering he’d stopped you on the stairs to snog you against the wall, his hands gripping your bum as he held you against him.

Once he got to his room, he shoved the door open, practically slamming it behind him, his jacket already thrown across the room before you’d taken two steps in, his hands working on removing his waistcoat and tie. His eyes locking on yours as your hands played with the zip of your dress, he almost growled, “Take off your clothes, but leave the heels on.”

You bit your lip, unzipping the dress and letting it fall down your frame, pooling at your feet. Fred paused, his hands holding his tie as he realised you hadn’t been wearing a bra, “Fuck.”

You let out a small laugh, stepping out of the dress completely, leaving you in just your black lace knickers and heels. His hands were back on you before he’d even finished undressing, his lips bringing you into a hot, messy kiss, your hands running through his ginger hair as he gripped your hips, rolling his own against you and making you let out a moan, causing him to groan into your mouth.

Your hands ran down his chest, undoing the rest of the buttons he had left, shoving the shirt off of his build shoulders and throwing it somewhere along with his jacket and your dress on the floor.

You then reached down to unbuckle his belt, slowly undoing his zipper, palming him gently as you did so, receiving a breathy groan in return. His trousers fell to the floor and he kicked them off, before he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth.

He pulled away for just a moment, only to remove his boxers, before he grabbed you again. Just as you moved to kneel, he stopped you, placing a gentler kiss to your swollen lips, a contrast from previous, mumbling, “Later baby, right now I need to be inside you.”

Falling onto the bed, Fred pinned you down onto the mattress, his bare chest flat against yours and your hands coming to wrap around his neck as he ground his hips against yours. He began trailing kisses down to your jaw, your neck and then ran his tongue across your collarbone, before moving down to your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth as your hands found a home in his hair.

“Fred,” you breathed out, one leg wrapping around his hip. He continued moving down your body, littering kissed and marks on your skin before he finally reached his place between your legs, taking the hem of your knickers between his teeth before pulling them down, you arching your back to help him.

“Please, Fred!”

His breath was hot against your skin as he removed your underwear, unhooking them from around your heels before moving back up your body slowly, his fingers finally - finally - pressing against your clit, circling and making your hips jolt forwards.

He took his bottom lip between his teeth and revelled in the sight of you coming undone before him, whimpers leaving your lips as his fingers worked against you.

“That feel good, darling?” He spoke, leaning down to kiss just under your ear. You gasped as you felt him push a finger into you, nodding desperately, “Yes, yes.”

Another followed the first, pushing in and out of you as you whined below him. He soon felt you clench around his fingers, and he decided to pull them out, ignoring your noise of protest as he cleaned them off with his tongue.

“You ready for me?”

“Always, Freddie.”

He lined himself up with you before pushing inside, you both gasping out in pleasure as you felt him deep inside you. After a moment of letting you adjust to him, he bottomed out, before starting to thrust into you, his pace quickening as his head fell to rest on your neck, pressing sporadic kisses to the skin as he moved in and out of you.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and making him groan, just as you began clenching around him, your legs wrapped around his hips as your heels dug into his back.

“You feel so good around me, love,” he breathed out, moving up to kiss you again. “Fred,” you moaned out against his lips.

He felt you clench around him again, letting out a shuddering breath, “I’m gonna cum inside you, baby.”

“Please!”

“I’m gonna fill you up, darling, is that what you want?” His voice was deep, his breath hitting your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yes Freddie, yes - cum inside me.”

Fred groaned as he spilled inside you soon after, just as you felt a wave of pleasure run through you, your mouth opening, eyes closing as you breathed his name out again.

He fell on top of you, most of his weight being held up by the hands either side of your head as you both breathed heavily.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Fred muttered, pulling out of you and lying beside you. You pressed a kiss to his lips and sat up, running a hand through your hair, “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

He sat up beside you, before grabbing his boxers and trousers that were in a pile on the floor to quickly shove back on, his shirt hanging loosely off him as he disappeared into the bathroom next door, re-emerging a couple of minutes later to hand you a cloth to clean up.

“Better get back before Mum starts asking where we are,” Fred pressed another lingering kiss to your lips, then another, before pulling away reluctantly to button up his shirt. He then grabbed his waistcoat and jacket, pulling them on over his shirt.

Following his lead, you grabbed your dress and pulled it back on, running a hand through your hair again, hoping it didn’t look too messy, not wanting anyone to know what you’d been up to.

“Fred, have you seen my knickers anywhere?” You asked, moving a couple of jumpers off the floor as you looked around. You glanced up at him to see him grinning cheekily as he pulled them out of his pocket, “I’m keeping a hold of ‘em, darling.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, kissing you yet again as he shoved your knickers back into his pocket,

“Easier access later.”

[supernovanim]

Strike, Dear Mistress, and Cure His Heart

I was lying in bed yesterday morning, when I realised I would like to tie Dylan O’Brien up. So i wrote this, and I’m not even the slightest bit sorry. It’s just one shortish fic as I don’t know how you’d continue it - there is no plot to speak of, it’s very self indulgent. I wrote it very quickly, although I did have to go back and rewrite some bits in case I ended up breaking his arms (I can’t be the only one that hates physically impossible smut). Let me know if you like it.

Title comes from Venus in Furs by The Velvet Underground, which is itself based on the book by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. I’d highly recommend both the song and the book.

Summary: Dylan is bad so you decide to punish him

Pairing: Female Reader x Dylan O’Brien

Warnings: References to alcohol and drinking, Swearing, light BDSM (bondage and hitting), Sub/Dom dynamic, Smut, unprotected sex (use protection!), orgasm denial, might be some British spellings

Word count: 3,554

Taglist: @hernameisnoellex3​

You woke in the dark to a crashing sound coming from the hallway and sat up in bed rubbing your eyes. You reached across and turned on the light before you heard it again. There it was, unmistakably the sound of someone stumbling around outside the bedroom door.

Sitting up in your large warm bed you looked over at the space next to you. Empty. Which meant…ah yes, you thought, as the bedroom door crashed open and your boyfriend Dylan tripped across the threshold.

“Sssh” he slurred, putting his finger across his lips “You’ll wake Y/N. She doesn’t…doesn’t like it when I’m drunk”

“It’s not the drunkenness Dylan” you sighed sleepily “You can have as much fun with your friends as you like” you watched as he tried to remove one of his shoes without sitting down, resulting in him hopping awkwardly on one leg “I just don’t know why you always have to wake me up when you get back”

“It’s no…no fun if you’re not there” he finally crashed awkwardly onto the side of the bed and tore off his shoes “gotta wake you up to have fun” his socks followed swiftly afterwards and he removed his shirt in one surprisingly co-ordinated movement, then ruined it by tipping over sideways.

You admired the way his movements had messed up his hair, leaving it stuck up every which way. You also couldn’t help but look at his lean chest and the smattering of moles across his now bare skin.

He caught you looking and leered knowingly, crawling towards you across the covers wearing only his jeans. “There’s my best girl. Missed you” he bent his head towards you and kissed you softly on the lips, his denim clad thighs bracketing you on the bed. Unfortunately, the effect was ruined by him tasting of beer, whiskey and cigarettes.

“Ew Dylan” you squeaked “you taste like an ashtray”

His caramel-coloured eyes widened, and he looked hurt “Sorry, I’ll go...go brush them” he yawned, but instead lay back with his head on the pillow next to you. “Just…just going to have a small rest first” and with that he closed his eyes and passed out, leaving you to remove his jeans and go back to sleep.

***

The next morning Dylan took ages to emerge from the bedroom. In fact, it was pretty much the afternoon when he did, and then he spent a while having a slow shower, getting food and groaning softly to himself every so often.

This meant he didn’t notice how angry you were for a worryingly long time. You weren’t sulking, you didn’t sulk, you just stayed on your laptop out of his way and didn’t talk to him. When he bent to kiss you, you moved your head, so it landed on your cheek, and responded to his apology with a non-committal “hmm”

“Baby, baby I’m sorry” he said, the aftereffects of the drinking and smoking adding a gravelly tone to his voice. “It won’t happen again”

“But you always say that, and it always does happen again” you practically growled, letting your anger colour your voice.

“It won’t, I swear” he pleaded “let me make it up to you, I’ll do whatever you want”

“Whatever I want? You mean that?” you spoke thoughtfully, a few ideas running through your head.

“Anything” he put his hand over his heart and looked at you, sincerity filling his gaze. You wanted to believe him, but he’d always been an excellent actor.

“You’d do anything I say, without question?” you asked

“Anything” he repeated, a spark of fear appearing in his eyes. He licked his lips as he stood in front of you though, so you knew he was interested.

You stood and slowly walked around him, contemplating your options. You’d never showed Dylan your dominant side so far in your short but intense relationship, happy for him to take the reins. But now, now seemed a good opportunity to let some of your kinks show, see how he took it.

“Here’s how it’s going to go” you let your voice drop an octave and leant towards his ear “you’re going to do exactly what I say, and if you don’t, I’m going to punish you. Hard” you saw him gulp. “Do you know what the traffic light system is?” you asked

“Y-yes” he stuttered

“Tell me then” you asked thoughtfully. If he’d done this before it was going to be easier than you thought to get him to comply.

“Green means everything is good. Orange means slow down, discuss things. Red is stop straight away” he answered

“Good boy. Have you tried this before?” you asked, curious

“N-no. Just read some stuff, watched some things” he shifted from foot to foot, embarrassed

“You happy with it?” you questioned, mentally crossing your fingers for luck

“Fuck yes” he let out with a gasp, so you moved to stand directly behind him, pressing yourself against his back

“That’s the correct answer” you spoke into his ear “anything you don’t want me to do?”

“Um…no marks that can’t be covered by a shirt, I’ve got that thing I’m filming next week”

“Sure” you said, shrugging, “wouldn’t want any of your co-stars knowing what a naughty boy you’ve been”

He swallowed thickly, his throat moving “apart from that I’m all in. You can even get a little rough. That would be…that would be hot” you see him shiver in anticipation.

“Excellent” you practically purred. Then your tone changed, becoming sharp and demanding “I want you to strip completely. Then I want you to kneel on the floor right here, with your hands behind your head”

Speedily Dylan stripped off his clothes, throwing his shirt to one side. He hopped on one leg to remove his shoes, reminding you of last night.

“Wait” you said firmly, and he stopped, both shoes off but still wearing his jeans. You moved round him to go sit on the sofa. “Ok you can keep going, but slower”

He looked at you and slowly popped the button on his jeans. “Good boy” you smiled, and he smirked back as he lowered the zipper. You’d always liked this view, watching as he pushed the denim down and off. Then he hooked his fingers under the waistband of his grey boxer briefs and you unconsciously licked your lips and crossed your legs. Your eyes followed the trail of hair leading down as he slowly removed them, revealing his far from inadequate cock.

You watched admiringly as he tossed aside the briefs and knelt as you’d asked, hands behind his head showing off his biceps.

“Nice” you complimented “what a good boy you are”

You noticed his pupils widen at that, and his dick twitched, starting to harden. Interesting.

“Now stay there, don’t move an inch while I go get ready” you ordered

“Yes” he said quietly

“Oh, and from now on you’ll address me only as Mistress” you added

“Yes mistress” he replied obediently. Oh, this was going to be fun, you thought.

Quickly you returned to the bedroom and stripped, changing into your black satin lingerie set. It was one of Dylan’s favourites. Then you put on your highest black stilettos, the soft suede ones that you only wore if you knew you didn’t have to do much walking. They were unbelievably sexy but made you slightly taller than Dylan which always felt strange. Not today though, today feeling more powerful was the point.

Then you crossed to the closet, reaching into the back and pulling out a small cardboard box. You removed some items from inside, placing them on the bedside table. A couple of silk scarves, a soft leather flogger, and your favourite item – a length of black rope. It was deceptively strong but coated in something to make it comfortable. After all you didn’t want Dylan arriving on set with rope burns. That would take some explaining. You thought for a moment before taking it out of the bedroom with you.

Dylan was exactly as you’d left him, kneeling in front of the sofa, hands placed on the back of his head. You walked slowly in front of him, listening to the sharp tap of your heels on the polished floor and letting your hips sway seductively. You heard him take a sharp intake of breath before you turned to face him.

“God” he groaned “you look incredible”

“Did I say you could talk?” you snapped, the smirk on your face in contrast to your sharp tone

“N-no. Sorry…mistress” he responded quickly

“I’ll have to punish you for that” you said, eyes narrowing. At that his eyes widened, and he bit his lower lip, biting back another noise.

You stepped slowly towards him “hands held out in front” you commanded, smiling to yourself as he quickly complied. You stood in front of him, not being able to stop yourself running a hand through his hair. He started turning his head into it, but you quickly removed your hand - “eyes forwards”

His head snapped up “yes mistress. Sorry”

You bent in front of him and wrapped the rope around his wrists, tying each one tightly but leaving a length in between. You made sure the knots were secure but could be undone quickly if needed. “Colour?” you checked

“Green. Definitely green” he replied.

“Good boy” you praised, and tugged on the rope to lift him to his feet “I think we should take this to the bedroom, don’t you?”

“Yes mistress” he complied, following as you pulled him along by the rope.

When you got to the bedroom you led him over to the bed and made him lie on his back, hooking the rope between his hands over the bedpost so he couldn’t move. You made sure the pillows propped his head up and took some of the pressure off his wrists.

“Comfy?”

“Not entirely, but still green. So green” he grinned up at you.

“Good. Going to blindfold you now” you said, picking up one of the silk scarves and moving towards his head.

Dylan pouted “but…wanna see you. You look so good; you have no idea”

“Did I ask for your permission Dylan?” you questioned. He shook his head. “You’re just making this worse for yourself. If you’re a very good boy, I’ll let you see me later. Let’s try that again - I’m going to blindfold you now.”

“Yes mistress” he replied sulkily

“Better. Still think you need to learn your place though – we’ll work on that” you said sharply as you placed the scarf over his eyes and tied it at the back, taking the opportunity to give his hair a swift tug while you did so.

Now Dylan could no longer see you, you stood back and admired the view. He looked delectable, his arms stretched over his head, his pale skin with a flush starting on his chest, his impressive cock half hard between his legs. You wanted to touch him, to lick a path between all his moles and get him moaning. Oh wait, you could totally do that.

You moved onto the bed to straddle him, first kissing a path across his stubbled jawline and rubbing your nose across his cheek before pressing your mouth to his. You licked into him, deepening the kiss and tangling a hand in his hair to tip his head back, exposing the long line of his neck. As you bit gently at the tendon of his shoulder, he bucked his hips up and you felt him fully hard against you.

“No – no moving” you admonished, pushing him down with your hips and being rewarded with a pained moan from Dylan. “And try not to make too much noise or I’ll need to gag you”

At that Dylan made a strangled sound, biting it off before it could fully leave his lips. You shut off any protests by returning your mouth to his and enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours.

Soon it wasn’t enough, and you started licking down his body, interspersing broad stripes with your tongue with small nips and bites. When you reached his nipples, you let your tongue lave over them, then tweaked them with your fingers causing Dylan to buck his hips again. To stop his movements, you placed both hands on his hips and pushed him into the mattress firmly, turning your attention to his cock.

This was the easy bit – blow jobs always got Dylan worked up. You breathed over his cock, hearing him hold his breath in return. Slowly you licked from the base to the head, collecting the drops of pre cum that had collected and savouring them on your tongue. As you took the head into your mouth and wrapped your hand around the base Dylan started moaning

“Fuck yes, yes baby. So good, so good to me”

“Sssh” you stopped touching him to admonish “no talking”

You returned your attention to your actions, taking him towards the back of your throat and working past your instinctive gag reflex by breathing through your nose. You bobbed your head for a while, enjoying the heaviness of him on your tongue. You reached down with your other hand and cupped his balls loosely. And as you twisted your tongue over the sensitive spot below the head you felt Dylan tense up and his balls tighten.

“Oh god right there yes, so good gonna – gonna” he moaned above you

So, you stopped. You removed yourself completely from him and climbed off the bed. Dylan let out a frustrated huff.

“N-no! Why did you stop?” he pleaded, breathless.

“I told you to be quiet. You’re not being very good. Only good boys get to come” you stated simply.

“I’m sorry mistress. Please, please let me come”

“Nope” you said, emphasising the ‘p’ sound with a pop of your lips “you’ll have to be good first. Now, I think we can put your mouth to better use, don’t you?”

Dylan made a sound that was half pained, half hopeful. A kind of questioning whine. Quickly you removed your bra and panties, leaving you just in your black suede stilettos. You climbed back onto the bed and moved up, so your knees were at his chest. You dug your sharp heels slightly into his sides, just to remind him they were there. Placing a hand on the headboard for leverage, you moved so your core was in front of his face.

“Lick” you instructed “and make it good, you’ve got to make it up to me”

“Yes mistress” he said obediently, already moving his face forwards and feeling you out with his tongue. Quickly he started to lap over your clit, sending electric signals down your spine.

“See” you groaned “you can be a good boy”

He groaned in return, clearly enjoying this. You let go of the headboard and moved higher, placing your hands flat on the wall so you could manoeuvre yourself over his face more. You buried his lips in your core, gasping as his tongue prodded up into your entrance before returning to your clit and moving in small circles. You moved a hand to your breasts, pinching hard at the nipples to increase the feeling. Slowly but surely you felt your release start building from your toes upwards.

“C-colour?” you rasped, worried you might be suffocating him below you

“Green…green…green” came the muffled reply, and it was the vibrations from his words that finally sent you tumbling over the edge, crying out. “Fuck yes. There, there!”. He kept licking you through your orgasm until you felt over sensitive and moved away from him.

You moved back down the bed on slightly shaky knees and looked at Dylan. He looked almost as fucked as you felt, his face slick with your juices and his cock leaking pre cum onto his stomach. The scarf blindfold still sat over his eyes and the blush that had started on his chest now extended to his throat. A light sheen of sweat covered his body as he panted.

“Very good” you praised him “I knew you could be a good boy really. Eating me up so well”

At your words he twisted slightly on the bed, his cock looking harder if that was even possible.

“Do you like that Dylan? Do you like hearing what a good boy you are?” you asked

He seemed to struggle with words for a moment, and then replied his voice cracking “Yes, yes I like that mistress. Want to be a good boy for you”

“Of course you do. Good boys get to come. But not yet, right now I think you should be punished a bit more until you know your place. Then if you’re very good and quiet and don’t move, I’ll ride you until you come” you promised

“Yes mistress” he capitulated quickly

You nodded in satisfaction even though he couldn’t see you and got off the bed to walk to the bedside table. There you picked up the soft black leather flogger – made up of many strips of leather with a handle it resembled a small whip but could be used in a number of different ways.

First you ran it over Dylan’s face letting him smell the leather. Then you moved it downwards, letting the tips fall over the planes of his chest like a brush. The blush on his throat moved up to his face, and you saw him bite off a sound.

“Good, that’s really good Dylan” you said softly, continuing your ministrations with the flogger. You teased it down his chest and the trail of hair there, ending up brushing over his balls and cock softly. At that he couldn’t help it, his hips bucked off the bed desperate to get more contact on his hard leaking length.

“Oh no, what did I say about moving?” you admonished “I can see I’ll have to punish you more harshly. Colour?”

“Green. Still green, goddamn you” he replied

“There’s no call for that” you said and brought the flogger down sharply on his stomach letting the leather snap. He gasped at the feeling but managed not to make any other sound or move.

“I’m going to do that five more times” you stated, “and you’re going to count for me, ok?”

“Y-yes mistress” he said shakily

You moved the flogger down to his inner thighs so he could feel it there, and then snapped it against his pale skin again.

“One” he dutifully counted

The second hit landed on his other thigh, and you alternated back and forth each time. The skin reddened until you knew it was overly sensitive. When he got to a gasped out five, you bent over and sucked right over the reddened skin, leaving a darker mark that would remind him of the feeling for days.

“Well done” you praised “that was excellent. I think you deserve a reward now, don’t you Dylan?”

“Yes mistress. Please, please” he didn’t seem able to get any more words out. His cock looked painfully hard now, and he gasped against the pillows. You decided he’d probably had enough punishment and could be put out of his misery.

You returned to straddle him on the bed. Still soaking wet from before, you easily took his whole length as you lowered yourself onto him in one movement. You felt your walls flex around him and you braced your hands against his chest as you started riding him. Slowly at first, then faster as you heard his breathing quicken. You reached down to circle your clit with your fingers, determined to come before him.

“Hold on Dylan, just be a good boy for a bit longer and don’t come until I say so”

“Please mistress. No more. I c-can’t” he pleaded; his voice wrecked

“You can, I know you can. Hold on” you increased the pressure on your clit and felt yourself tense up. Below you Dylan bit his lip to stop himself crying out as he desperately tried to hold off his own orgasm. As you felt your release wash over you you clenched around him, and you took pity on him

“Ok, go on – come for me Dylan” you whispered into his ear

His hips bucked up into you at that, and you reached up and removed the blindfold. It seemed that the sight of you finally did it, and he came with a scream, his body arching against the wrist restraints. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you up as you rode out the last waves of your own orgasm.

You reached up and quickly untied the knots securing the rope, removing it and examining his wrists for any damage. Luckily there was nothing permanent, and you tossed the rope away, letting him slip out of you and moving to cuddle against his side. You licked a bead of sweat from one of his nipples and he twitched sensitively.

“So” you asked, “will you be waking me up drunk anymore?”

“Baby, if we get to do that again I’ll give up smoking and drinking completely” he growled, voice low “that was incredible”

“That’s the correct answer” you smiled back… “what a very, very good boy you are”

THE END

[palbabor-writes]

Shigaraki noncon fic when 👀

oh. well, how about now?

Culmination

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!OC

Warnings: this is an example of a DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, seriously, this thing has full on tw.non-consensual sex, verbal and physical abuse, fingering, cunnilingus, stalking, breaking and entering, and a terrible no good very bad shigaraki, like for real - this is a DARK FIC - so shoo if that isn’t your thing, tw.noncon, tw.physcial abuse, tw.head trauma, tw.degradation, tw.stalking, tw.blood 

just, you know, all of the warnings - take all of them 

Word Count: 5041

That skirt looks good on you.

The shortness makes his eyes narrow, sharp vermillion glinting in the moonlight, but he can’t deny that he likes the way it hugs your hips and temptingly hikes as you bend to collect your mail from the brass box by your entryway. The silhouette that’s illuminated by the dull light of the streetlamp is nothing short of breathtaking and he hungrily licks at his battered lips, tongue tracing over the scar that splits his skin.

Notes: This is a commissioned fic for @kugutsuu! While it is pretty close to a reader insert, I did take the liberty of using her OC in this & because of that the descriptions are little more honed in and less neutral, plus, uh, she has a name. Shout out to @libiraki for the beta edit & all of her comments *smooches*

Culmination cul·mi·na·tion /ˌkəlməˈnāSH(ə)n/ noun the highest or climactic point of something

“This is not wise,” Kurogiri warns, voice steady, low, “it is also not something that he would want for you.”

“Mmmph, what the fuck do you know? You always like to act like you know him better, like you’ve got some kind of upper hand on his thoughts, his plans. You’re not fooling anyone, I know he tells you fuck all too, Kurogiri, you just like to pretend you’re superior to me. Well, too fucking bad. I’m sensei’s successor. I’m the one who he trusts and no one, not even you, Kurogiri, knows him better than I do. Got that?”

“I apologize. I do not mean to offend you Shigaraki Tomura, I only seek to warn–” Kurogiri pauses, mist like form shivering as he debates his next move. Tomura is still young after all and has much to learn. His inexperience and sheltered upbringing are likely directly to blame for this situation. It’s not his fault that this has happened. They should have been prepared for it. He, himself should have known better, should have planned some stratagem, something to counter this burst of... hormones... from his charge. “If you are caught, if she reports you to the authorities, or if she knows a hero, then all will be for naught. We’ve got much to do, and our master would not be pleased with this distraction, successor or not. You know this Shigaraki Tomura, I know you do.”

“She won’t,” Tomura drawls, a wicked grin curling his lips upward, baring a sharp row of gleaming teeth. It hurts his skin when he smiles like this, but he can’t help it. He’s too excited, too piqued. Fuck, he’s even half hard, picturing just how your face will fall, how the swell of your lips will quiver, shake, when you see him at last. You’ll know what’s going to happen, you’ll have to, and if you don’t, well, he’ll make you put it all together.

Kurogiri is muttering something about propriety and consequences, but Tomura isn’t listening. He’s too busy scooting closer to the edge of the bar, hips pressing against the wood until the ache that rests within his bulging pants has lessened.

“I can see that you are not listening.”

“Oh? What the fuck gave that away?”

He’s thought about how he’ll go about it.

Should he sneak behind you on the train? Or carefully shadow you home; weaving his way in and out of the alleyways, padding over wet pavement, breath hot under his dark hood, hands flexing in his pockets, cock throbbing behind the pinch of his zipper, until you’re at the sanctity of your door?

No.

That one sounds like something out of a thriller. Besides, you’re a woman; you’re skittish. He’s seen how you look behind you when you hop up onto the street, the way your neck strains, twisting, leaning forward, peering into the gloom. No doubt your ears will be pricked, wholly attuned to the smallest sound. Besides, if he opts to grab you outside of your apartment, what if you scream?

He’d do his best to clap a sweaty palm over your curled lips, avoiding the threat of your teeth, smearing that alluring shade of lip gloss, that you always insist on applying as you leave the office, all over your face as he muffles the gasp and shrill cry you’ll let out. But it’s risky. Something might eke out, might bleed over to the ground units, or he might just lower all five fingers. It wouldn’t be on purpose and he’d hate to see you splattered all over the ground, your too hot blood leaking through his fingertips, flecking skin and pretty white bone painting the crime scene he’d leave behind a vibrant red. Your red.

There’s also the added worry of your height.

You’re taller than him. Not by too much, he reasons, sucking his teeth as his cock twitches within the confines of his dark jeans again, picturing your statuesque form. Just enough. High enough that he’d need to strain his arms a little more. However, he doubts that he’d underestimate the difference. He’s stood next to you on the platform of the train, too often to count now, and he’s got the image of you engrained upon his psyche. Even now, if he shutters his twitching eyelids, he can see your outline, knows just where you’d fall, where he’d be able to press, to grab.

It’s almost nightfall, and it’s a Friday. That means you’ll be out a little later tonight. The risk of the doorway, while tempting, will need to be ruled out. Too likely someone else will stumble into the complex, will see him pushing you up the stairs, see his hands sinking into those soft waves of brown hair, his fingers sliding over your neck, plucking at your skin, forcing you to comply.

Besides, your window will be easier.

That skirt looks good on you.

The shortness makes his eyes narrow, sharp vermillion glinting in the moonlight, but he can’t deny that he likes the way it hugs your hips and temptingly hikes as you bend to collect your mail from the brass box by your entryway. The silhouette that’s illuminated by the dull light of the streetlamp is nothing short of breathtaking, and he hungrily licks at his battered lips, tongue tracing over the scar that splits his skin.

Should he let you get undressed? Let you take a shower? Brush out those silken locks and slip into something that’s easier for him to slide off of you? How long does that take? Ugh.

He’d like to ram you into the wall, jerk that plaid tartan up and dance his fingers under the sweep of your ass, exulting in each sound you gift him. You’ve got a nice voice after all. He’s heard it, once or twice, as you chat with your coworkers, or friends, on your phone. He’d like to see how sharp he can make it, or maybe it will drop even lower, rasping out shallow breaths as he drags each moan from you, or squealing as he sinks one long finger into that soft, petal pink, that he imagines your cunt looks like.

His dick feels like it’s going to burst. One hand drops to the tent it’s created and strokes a soothing rhythm along its length. He’s not worried about not lasting. He’s fucked himself to completion too many times today for that. He’d slink into his darkened room, he’d picture you, your porcelain skin, the cut of your jawline and the tremble of your lips as he worked himself into you. It always clears too fast, as he makes it through the levels of your arousal too quickly and all too soon he’s splashing thick ropes of his release over the dark material of his shirt and the bunched fabric of his boxers.

It had eased the itch, had gotten him through the day, gotten him to this cold balcony, but it’s not enough. Not anymore.

Ah. You took a shower.

Your hair is damp, and it clings to your shoulders, pooling moisture around the dip of your collarbone, staining the front of that shirt you’re wearing. It’s white and he can see the tips of your nipples as the wetness seeps downward, aided by the tug of gravity and the shaking strands of your hair.

Fuck. He’s not gonna make it much longer.

He wants you to hop in bed, to curl into the sheets, tuck yourself in, let your heartbeat slow. Relax, relax, relax echoes through his mind as he watches you pull your downy comforter back, hands patting at the ache, teeth biting, leaving indentations, half moons of strain and impatience. Not long now, he reasons, not long now.

Your light snaps off and he lunges forward, bracing himself against the slippery brick, fingers carefully scrabbling over the ledge of your window sill. The panes groan when he applies that jerk of pressure to them. Part of him wants to just decay the fucking thing, but he’s not sure he can control it, not when he’s like this. Drool froths at the sides of his lips and he flecks the droplets against his hands and the smooth glass, steadily jimmying the warped wood upwards, ignoring the pinch in his shoulder and the pounding spasms that are racing down his clawed fingers.

There! Finally!

The hinges splinter, and he topples inside, hitting the rough flooring of your apartment with a thud. His feet are already under him, bracing his fall, and he allows himself to hunch forward, frigid breath streaming into a fine mist as he looks up, searching for you.

The noise of his entrance had startled you. Your wide eyes and clutch of the soft duvet between your fingers give that much away. Good. That’ll make this first step easier.

He’s on the bed in a heartbeat and, for a brief instant, all you can see is red. His eyes are bright, glossy, feverish, glazed over with some kind of manic fervor, and that shimmering vermillion makes your gut twist. You need to move; now.

It takes a second for your body to catch up with your brain. You weren’t groggy, or sleep fogged. Shit, you’d barely fluffed your pillow before you heard the window smattering to bits, but this whole situation is a heady mixture of confusion and pulse thumping terror for you. What the fuck–no... who the fuck is this? Your first thoughts drift to plausible reasons. Is this a robbery? Some kind of misguided hit? Maybe it’s a villain who’s fleeing from a hero. Maybe... maybe it’s... a mistake? Please, let it be a mistake. You can feel your fingers shaking as you scrabble away from the lean jumble of dark limbs that’s doing its utmost to corner you. Each time you kick your feet out he’s already there and you can hear his unsteady breaths as he looms closer.

“W-what are you... who the-wha-... what do you w-w-want?” you stammer, tongue clumsy behind your chattering teeth. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins and it’s making you shake and slur your words. Your eyes snap downward and you scan your bedside table, looking for something, anything, that will get this creep the fuck away from you.

“Shhhh–” the strange man whispers, ducking his head from his dark hood and shaking out his chin length white hair. You don’t want to look at him, so you push yourself against the headboard, bare feet bracing against his bent knees. “You look so much prettier up close.”

“What t-the fuck?” you spit out, throat clenching with fresh horror. He’s seen you before? Is he crazy? Is he some kind of stalker? “If you don’t get away from me... right... right now... I’ll... I’ll call the cops. Don’t!” you shriek out, voice cracking as one of his hands wraps around your upper arm. His touch is cold, clammy and you flinch, body jerking so sporadically that you fall onto your bedroom floor.

Your bottom skitters across the wood, but you don’t waste any time on the pain, instead you surge to a distorted crawl, nails grabbing, feet wobbling as you make for your bedroom door. He’s on you in an instant and his weedy body is trapping you under him, mouth close to your ear, his warnings a gnarled stream of hot air. His fingers wrap around your throat and you gag as he yanks you backwards, knocking what little wind remained in your lungs out.

“Do something like that again and I’ll kill you,” he hisses, long nails pinching into the tender flesh of your neck. “I don’t know why you want to be on the floor for this, but I’ll play along. Now, be a good girl and keep still.”

His free hand laces its way up the thin material of your sleep shirt and he hastily gropes at your breast, pinching and pulling on your nipple until it distends prettily into his chilled touch. You bite back a cry when he twists the bud, thumb swiping over the hurt until it blends into a potent mingling of startled pleasure. “Mmm, perky–” he gasps out, licking his sloppy tongue over your pulse. The hand that’s holding the pressure against your throat loosens and you jolt forward, squirming against his grip.

“You- you disgusting pig!” you grit through clenched teeth, shaking your head and straining your thighs upward until they’re burning from the effort. “Let go of me! Right now!”

“You sound even better than I imagined…” he muses, nose poking against the side of your face, unperturbed by your distraught movements. “Smell good too. Did you wear that scent just for me? Mmm, I bet you did. It smells even better on your skin. I had Kurogiri get me some, so I could put it on those panties of yours. You left them in your bag, at the gym. Bet you didn’t even notice they were gone, did you? I was too quick for you. Ahh, but they smell just like you! Aahaha... ahh, I did such a good job with that find. Bet it’ll be even better when it’s fresh...”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” It comes out sharply, likely way too abrasive and challenging, at least for this situation, and the second the question leaves your lips, another burst of adrenaline lances through you. It’s honestly not helpful. All of those fucking things you hear about it, how it’s supposed to give you this superhuman strength, or the will to push your way out of danger. Yeah, no. It just makes you jittery and makes his steady gropes against the small mounds of your breasts spark an extra dose of tender sensitivity, something that pools into your gut and radiates outward. Shit.

“Ooh, you like that, don’t you?”

It’s not an exaggeration. You’d let out the breathiest whine when he trailed his steadily warming fingertips away from your peaked nipple, horrifyingly bleating out against its loss. He chuckles as he moves onto the twin, prodding and plucking disjointedly at the pebbled tip, shifting backwards, off of you, spreading his legs and resting his knees on either side of your shaking thighs, easing up on your throat and letting you gulp down a few hungry pulls of air. You can hear his mirth increasing as you brace your hands against the floor, steadying you within his loosening grasp.

“See? It’s so much easier when you don’t struggle. Although... I think I would like to hear you scream, at least once... maybe later… hmm?”

You shift your head and glance back at him. He’s watching you through hooded eyelids, that blazing red muffled by the fall of his dark lashes. The smile that’s lingering on his cracked lips is keen and he wets his skin with a swift lick, pink tongue pausing against a sharp canine. Your stomach drops when he tilts his chin upward, silently motioning for you to turn around.

He scoots back, giving your long legs room to maneuver underneath you, but he keeps one hand braced against your heaving chest, lazily popping from one tender breast to the other. “Get up,” he rasps out, eyes hungrily roving over your crumpled shirt and tear-streaked face. You bat your fist against your cheek, mind whirring, trying to see some way out of this.

“You don’t have to do this,” you bargain as you stand, teeth snagging on your lower lip and pulling, fingers curling into your palms, jabbing until you can feel the skin breaking. “I won’t tell anyone... I won’t... I won’t report you...I... I–”

“You finished?” the man sighs, visibly rolling his eyes at your garbled pleas. “I’ve waited for this long enough, you know... way too long. And I don’t wait for anything. Now get on the bed and shut your mouth, before I shut it for you.”

Your knee hits the side of your bed and your eyes drift to that broken window, eyeing the shards of glass that lay gleaming, like diamonds in the moonlight. He’s quick; but is he that quick? He’s not off the floor yet and he’s turned his head, satisfied that he’s broken you...that he’s got the upper hand...if you...no...don’t think...just go!

Legs are tense as they race forward and your hands are already outstretched, grabbing, snatching, lacing into the glass and gathering the pricking fragments into your palm. It hurts, but you ignore the pain, wheeling toward the window, to the crisp freedom that the night air promises. To...to…

The world shifts again and a bright burst of white streaks across your vision. It shimmers, hanging for an instant, dazzling you with all the colors that exist in the spectrum; soft blues, vibrant purples, hazy oranges, cheerful yellows, and then they all flicker out, swallowed up by the voracious pull of black.

You can’t move your hands, or your legs, and everything is awash in deep, mottled splashes of consciousness. The plush softness of the bed makes you feel dizzy and you try to shift, but something isn’t right. There are pins and needles in your hand. Why are you holding them? That’s a stupid thing to do... what if you bleed? What if... oh... oh God…

That man is still here. Who is he? Did he even say?

“Who... who are you?” you ask, voice dreamy, eyes falling over the pale dip of his unclothed ribs, wandering up the curve of his face, pausing on each imperfect splintering of his skin.

“I’m Tomura,” he answers simply, that eerie grin spreading over his lips. The false safety of your confusion flutters and there’s a pounding at the back of your head. You twist your neck, tongue too heavy in your mouth, lapping over the traces of old copper that rest between your gums. There’s something on your stomach. Red. It’s red. It looks pretty in the moonlight and you sigh, curious why your legs are spread like that; it’s lewd. To be sitting in front of Tomura with your legs wide open, naked cunt clenching and pulsing against the cold.

“I’m Lydia,” you say blankly, eyes blearily looking for that vibrant rust that’s watching you so closely.

“I know,” Tomura laughs, gleefully barking into the stillness of the night. “Fuck. You really don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember?” you echo, brows furrowing, arms trying to pull down again. Something’s holding them. Strange.

“Hmm, I told you not to struggle. Not my fault you didn’t listen.” His fingers snap in front of your face, refocusing your wandering attention, and you groan at the noise, wincing away from him.

“Stop,” you whine, shaking your head, knees touching as your back arches. Why can’t you move? And...and why...why are you naked? Questions keep drifting across your mind and as Tomura slides closer, a chill shakes its way up to your skull. “Don’t!” you gasp out, suddenly horrified he’s prying your legs apart.

“Shut up,” he grunts, one hand applying a pressure to your neck as the other dips between your hips, easily parting the folds of your slit and poking haphazardly over you. Your whole spine curves upward, sinking that questing digit lower, his finger pad brushing across your entrance. “Ah! Look at you, what a greedy little bitch. Acting like you don’t want me...fuck...you’re soaking…”

His voice drops to a hush as he leans back, eyes following the steady in and out motions his index fingers are creating within you. His nails are sharp but you kinda like how it scrapes and pulls, enjoying the drag down your sticky walls as he works more of your arousal into his hand. With a hiss he shifts his hold, rotating the digit and cupping his palm under the swell of your ass, holding you up as he pushes deeper.

“Shit, Lydia,” he growls, leaning over your prone form and sinking his nose against your neck. “You’re so warm and wet for me. Look at you!” He’s fully gloating now, and he pulls out of your cunt with a slick pop, lazily passing the gossamer strands between his splayed fingers. “Such a little slut… I wanna see what it tastes like!”

Something warns you to move and you wriggle backwards as he plants himself directly above your slippery pussy, scooting along the sheets until he has to grab you. His fingers are rough, sure to leave bruises and that tingling sense of danger returns as his damp breath fans over you. The slither of his rough tongue makes a strangled gasp escape your clamped lips and your hands flail again, working more of that tingling pain down your arms.

He’s clumsy, but fuck, he’s eager and that makes all the difference. As soon as he finds the quivering button of your clit, you’re too far gone to think anymore. Even that nagging worry fades away as he suckles and presses those uneven lips to the bud. The stick of his dry skin creates this breathless sensation and you buck upwards, feet working past the roped stockings he’s... wait... what? Stockings? Why... why are those there? What’s going on? Wait. When did you take off your clothes? When did... oh... oh no...

Your hips crash back to the mattress, and it dislodges his grip on your thighs. Some lingering instinct makes you bring them together, trapping his pale head and fixing him with a flushed stare. For a breath, he’s still, but you can practically feel his rage and impatience, bubbling away, just beneath the surface.

“Bitch,” he snaps, head lifting, wavy hair scratching against your sensitive skin. “Why can’t you fucking listen? Or just sit fucking still? Such a goddamn cunt. You know what? You know what you’ve done? Huh? Do you? Lydia? I’m fucking done. Thought I’d at least let you get something out of this, try to keep you happy, to see if it was fucking worth it. Kurogiri’s always going on about how I need to grow up, to calm down, well, fuck that and fuck you!”

That’s right. He broke in.

That’s why he’s here. That’s why...he hit you...no...he knocked you out...fuck, he’s going to kill you...he’s going to…

His hands are like a steel vice and he clamps his fingers against you so tight you’re worried he’ll come back to you with his palms covered in your blood. Wait. The glass. Are you bleeding? Your eyes fall back to that streaked stain on your stomach and your blood goes cold. With a shudder, you look up at your clasped hands, finally taking in the strap of his dark belt and the bloom of copper that’s dried between your curled fingers. It must...it has to be from the glass.

Tomura punches the headboard, and the reverberation makes you startle, a high-pitched squeak falling from your lips. “Look at me Lydia,” he demands, cold digits curling under your chin and forcing your head upward. “Look at me while I ruin this pussy of yours.”

As soon as the words leave him, he’s impaling you on his cock and you’re staggered by the sheer girth of him. Your legs slip and convulse, heels grinding into the sheets until you hear the fabric rip. The stretch is too much...it’s too much... it hurts…

You think you say something along those lines, but Tomura ignores you, too engrossed in the sheer heat and pull of your cunt. He throbs when he finally bottoms out and you feel a fresh burst of tears stream down your cheeks, hot in the night's chill air.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, already pulling back as soon as your breath slips back into your lungs. The cants and ruts are shallow at first and he sucks on his thumb before he applies it to the cherry red of your clit, fiddling with you inexpertly. “Easy, you dumb slut, you’ll take my dick off if you do that again. Fucking relax…”

Relax? Who the fuck is this brat? All he’s doing is jolting into you and complaining with each stroke. What a whiny, good for fucking nothing baby. No. Incel’s a better word for what he is.

“What- what’s the matter?” you snarl, eyes narrowing up at his pink tinted cheeks. “Just fucking cum, you pathetic little bitch. Bet you can’t last, bet you can’t...ah…”

That ass! He swiveled his hips and somehow managed to hit that spongy patch of nerves that sits toward the back of your cunt. A dark leer splits his face when he notices your reaction and he carefully lines himself up again, hips jutting forward until he sees your eyes roll back. “Not so mouthy anymore, huh?” he gloats, index finger joining his thumb, pinching at your clit.

He keeps up a teeth chattering pace, but each time you gasp he purses his lips and scowls down at you. Finally, when he’d actually sent a scattering of stars across your vision, he pulls away, leaning back on his haunches, eyes following the steady in and out progression of his dick. “You’re too wet,” he grumbles, sucking his teeth and fixing you with a disgruntled glare.

“Wh-what the hell does that mean?” you bite out, vainly trying to swallow down another series of moans. This fucker, he’s actually building you up to an orgasam.

“Need you to be tighter,” he grouches, hands pulling away from your dripping pussy and working on the ties that hold your ankles. As soon as he’s got the sheer fabric off, he looms back over you, reaching for your clasped wrists. The belt has cut off your blood flow and your arms inelegantly flop to your sides when he frees them. You almost want to try to make a run for it again, but he’s still keeping that steady push and pull of his cock going. That dedication and perseverance to his own enjoyment, it’s kinda impressive, if you wanted to look at it that way that is.

“Get on your stomach,” he imperiously commands, voice falling to a low hush, closer to a rasp. You balk, but he doesn’t give you the time to move, yanking himself out of your cunt, flipping you over and shoving you down. “Lift your ass. No. Higher. Yes. Keep still, or I’ll miss, and if I miss more than once, well, let’s just say you won’t like me much then.”

“Don’t like you now,” you mumble, words muffled by the bundled sheets that are under your lips.

You must have arched your hips enough because he slides in cleanly. The swell of his length makes you gasp out a long moan and you can hear his giggles, sharp and jangling behind your head. “Such a fucking slut! Ahhh, this already feels better.”

The trusts he’s giving you are shallower in this position, but you can feel every vein that races along his length as they pulse and throb against your over sensitized walls. He’s ramming into that sweet spot at an alarming rate and you can feel your cheeks heating up. You want to grind back but the hump of your ass prevents you from moving much, instead, Tomura makes up for your lack of movement with each cant, grinding his bony hips into you with a low crunch.

There’s something slick that’s falling over your shoulder blades and you crane your head around, peering through the umber haze of your hair. Ugh, gross, he’s drooling. The line of saliva is perfectly connected to your back and you watch it gleam in the low light. When Tomura notices your gaze he licks his tongue across the strand, shattering the connection as he brings a hand to the back of your head, pressing you down into the mattress.

“It’s not enough,” he groans, leaning back and examining your prone backside. “Cross your legs.” It’s not a request, but you’re genuinely confused by his demand and you shake your head under the blanket of his four fingers. “Tch, dumb bitch. Here.” He shifts upward and you almost fall to pieces at the stimulation. The tip of his cock is tapping and pressing at the ring of your cervix, and you can feel every fiber of your being quaking as he sinks past that last barrier. “There we go,” Tomura gloats, threading your legs over each other and leaning into you.

He’s heavy and the spidery trail of his leftover saliva makes him stick to you uncomfortably, but you don’t care. As terrible as this is, you want him to keep going, you’re too close for him not to. This whole thing is a fucking travesty, but you’ll be damned if you don’t end up getting something out of it. The grunts and whines he’s giving you must mean that he likes it too and you do your best to hold on as he picks his way back to those steady pounds and thrusts.

“Tighter! Keep your legs together! I’m almost there. Come on! Fuck you, tighter!”

You do as he says and clench your thighs as tightly as you can, squeezing until you’re shaking. Finally, finally, he rams back into that spot, the tip of him forcing its way to that intimate part of you and hurtling you into a release that leaves you absolutely breathless under him. It must have been enough for him too, you think, feeling the telltale pulses of his cock and that rush of cum as it splatters into your waiting cunt.

Tomura collapses over you and you groan at the added sting of his full weight. Lazily, his lips fall to your ear and his stuttered breaths pass over you as he pulls back, tugging his softening length from your battered pussy. Once he’s out, he shoves your partially lifted head back down, laughing at the sight of you, clearly delighting in his success.

“Keep still Lydia,” he begins, nails scratching over your tingling scalp. “I’m not done yet.”

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Come As You Are

Summary: Dean takes Y/n dress shopping for a hunt, both of them blissfully unaware of where it will lead. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.9K+

Warnings: Language, self-esteem and body image struggles, public intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it)

Author’s Note: This was written for an anonymous request, 

“Hey babe I don’t know if your taking requests but I had a groovy idea dean x shy plus reader where they have to get the reader nice sexy clothes but she feels really uncomfortable in them and refuses to leave the dressing room and dean confess how he feels and they have sex in the dressing room ? Fluff and smut” 

I truly enjoyed writing it so I hope it lives up to your expectations anon. Remember, feedback is like crack to writers, and we always love to hear what you thought xoxo Alex

Consider checking out a book from Alexandra’s Library!

A frown etched itself on her face as she ran her hand over the fabrics hanging from the racks. All of it felt foreign underneath her fingertips. Satin, chiffon, and everything else that was far more expensive than she was used to. Y/n’s wardrobe mostly consisted of denim and polyester blends that tended to fray after two washes. It was all that a hunter could afford, after all. 

“How in the hell are we gonna afford any of this crap?” She whispered to Dean, who was eyeing the rack behind her, the gowns in front of him all a deep shade of red. 

“Charlie’s miracle card, remember? There is no limit,” Dean raised his brow at her, a grin etched across his perfect face. 

“Fine,” she groaned. “I still don’t see why I even need to go dress shopping, I’m sure I could find something in my closet.” 

“I’ve seen your closet, and none of it is right for this case. You’ve got to distract the coroner for the night and you can’t do that in baggy jeans and flannel.” Dean huffed as he picked a dress off the rack. Y/n’s eyes went wide as she took it in, the hem was short for anyone’s standards, then add in the plunging neckline and this dress left nothing to the imagination. 

“That is so not happening,” Y/n pointed at the offensive garment, her stomach fluttering at the simple idea of even trying to slip into it. Every spot on her body that she hated would be on full display in that thing. Her thick thighs, the roll that sat on her bra just under her arms, and don’t get her started on her abdomen. 

“Come on, just try it. You never know ‘till you try it on.” 

“Ugh,” Y/n snatched the dress from his hand before stalking off to look at more dresses. There were a couple more options that she grabbed to try on that were closer to her comfortability level. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the items in her arms. But Dean had this way about him, always able to convince her to do anything without question. Maybe it was the way his skin crinkled around his eyes or the brightness that always seemed to live behind those deliciously green eyes? Who was she kidding, it was all of that and then some. The huntress had fallen hard for him from that first meeting. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to torture herself. 

Dean Winchester was the cream of the crop when it came to hunters, as was his baby brother, Sam. The whole world knew who they were, including heaven and hell, so how could she be expected to resist him when he smiled at her the way he does. Or even when he made her coffee in the mornings just how she liked it and picked up chocolate and pain killers for her when he knew it was that time of the month. He was exceedingly attentive to her, something that she was sure he only directed at Sam. It was just another thing that surprised her about the legend of a man. 

Yeah, like an idiot she fell for the eldest Winchester. There was no stopping it even though she was certain that her feelings would never be reciprocated. Y/n wasn’t like the other woman that Dean went for when he was on the prowl at bars. It’s not that she was ugly, it was that she was plain at best. People didn’t turn their heads when she walked in the room, men’s gazes didn’t linger on her from across the bar, no, Y/n was merely average. That’s how she knew that Dean would never see her as more than a friend because he had never looked at her in any form of want. 

“Are you ready to try those on?” A sales woman’s voice broke her out of her unrelenting train of thought. Dean answered for her before she could process the woman’s words. 

“Yes, please.” He smiled brightly and Y/n watched as the woman’s face flushed under his gaze. Y/n almost felt bad for the woman who was now just another victim to his charm. The saleswoman at least would be able to relish in his attention, wondering about what could have been had Y/n not been there with him. Y/n on the other hand already knew her fate. But mostly, if she was being honest, she was jealous. 

Dean put his hands on her shoulders and guided her along behind the boutique worker who took them into the back of the store where the dressing rooms were located. The area was mostly quiet, just the music from the speakers could be heard in the space. Three large mirrors sat in front of a stage on the far wall, the rooms spaning out on either side of it. In the center of the room were three plush chairs for those waiting for others to sit in. 

The worker unlocked a door for her as Dean plopped down in one of the chairs. Y/n slipped behind the door, letting out a deep breath as it closed behind her. If there was one thing she hated it was trying on clothes. Nothing ever seemed to fit her right or look anything like what it did on the hanger. It made the task a constant battle with her self-consciousness. 

Y/n had always carried extra weight on her body. It wasn’t that she didn’t live an active lifestyle, she was a hunter, after all, it was the diet that hunters were accustomed to. It was fast food and dives in every small town in America. Not many mom and pop places tended to offer an egg white omelet, and it wasn’t her inclination to eat them either. So, she had always been bigger than most, and if she was being honest she had grown used to that. Maybe she used it as a shield to protect herself. Making connections with people as a hunter only tended to end in heartbreak, so this was easier. 

The hunter hid the scary red thing Dean had selected behind all the rest of her haul, hoping she would find something before she ever even got to the thing. Y/n stripped from her flannel and jeans tossing them on the bench in the corner. She also added her bra to the pile, knowing all of these garments necessitated that she did not wear one. That left her in her favorite pair of panties. They weren’t anything special, but they made her butt looked its best.

The first dress in the line up was a straight black dress that hit just above her knee. The neckline wasn’t anything too crazy but the sleeves rolled off the shoulders a strip of fabric wrapping around her bust. Y/n was able to slip it on and tug up the zipper on the side. With a slide of her hands against the fabric, she frowned at her reflection. Not that it would flatter any figure, in her opinion. 

“What’s taking so long in there?” Dean called out from his spot in front of the mirrors.

“I’m not coming out in this thing,” she called back as she began to take the dress back off. 

“Oh, come on sweetheart,” 

“Nope, next,” Y/n heard him huff even through the door and she imagined he rolled his eyes as well. 

The next dress was a deep blue color. It had a wrap and pencil skirt, with an asymmetrical shape between the hem and the neckline. She supposed it was pretty but it also kind of looked like she had wrapped herself in a towel. Mostly, she felt like the point in the neckline was going to stab her in the throat, and she was not sure how to be sexy when she was trying not to die. It was another pass for her. 

There was only one dress left, and at that moment she was wishing to whoever was listening that she had picked out a few more choices. Dean was whistling now, some Zeppelin tune she couldn’t exactly identify and she knew he was getting impatient. Y/n swapped the fabrics on her body, pulling the thin straps of the red satin piece up onto her shoulders. The dress clung to her skin, the fabric lightweight. 

“Y/n/n,” Dean’s voice was just outside the door, the new proximity of it startling her. “Come on, you have to show me at least one. I know you and you’ll just try vetoing them all.” Y/n swore under her breath because he was right and it pissed her off that he knew her that well. The zipper was out of her reach on her back and she supposed she wouldn’t be able to truly see what it looked like on her unless she zipped it up. 

“Fine, I need help with this zipper anyway,” she sighed and held the fabric against her naked chest while opening the door with her other. Dean was beaming when he came into view on the other side of the door. He snuck inside faster than a flea, the slamming of the door startling her again. 

Get it together woman, you kill monsters for a living, Y/n cursed herself. 

“Turn,” Dean instructed her with his fingers, and the woman obliged as she faced the mirror. Dean brushed her hair off her shoulder with his fingertips, the action barely distinguishable but it sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. With one hand holding the bottom stop, he used the other to tug on the pull tab, sliding together the teeth in one fluid motion. 

“Thanks,” Y/n’s words were soft as she made eye contact with the green-eyed hunter in the mirror. He ran his tongue of his bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth as his eyes wandered over her exposed skin. 

Y/n visibly cringed as she looked at herself. Unfortunately, this was her favorite out of the three, but that didn’t mean she felt like she could venture anywhere in public in the thing. “Sweetheart, if that coroner hadn’t already been eyeing you up today, he would not know where to start when he sees you in this.” 

“Shut up,” Y/n scrunched her nose as she spun around to whack Dean’s shoulder. “You are so full of it.”

“Am not,” Dean scoffed, his eye softening before he continued. “Y/n, why don’t you see how beautiful you are?”

Y/n whipped around to stare at him, her arms crossing over her chest, not believing that those words come out of his mouth. Surely, he was playing with her…

“Have you looked at me, Dean?” Y/n slapped her hands against her thighs, emphasizing their jiggle upon impact. “I’m nothing special.” 

“I have looked at you,” His gaze traveled down her body again, his breath hitching slightly as he did so. “I’ve been looking at you for a while now.” The drop in Dean’s voice sent heat rushing through her body, the gravel undertone making her shiver. 

“Dean--” words escaped her as the hunter stepped into her personal space, pushing her back against the mirror. Dean’s left hand came to rest against the reflective surface just beside her head as he chewed on his lip. 

“I don’t think you know how hard it is for me to keep my eyes off of you,” he leaned into her, his nose brushing alongside hers. “And now, seeing you in this dress, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.” 

A rush of confidence coursed through her blood as his hot breath fanned over her face and Y/n slipped her hands behind his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. The movement was anything but smooth, though the action sent both of the hunters into action. Dean growled as he nipped her lower lip and she opened up to him, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth. 

A moan involuntarily came from her as his hands moved to her hips, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material where his finger pressed into her flesh. He stepped back, pulling her after him as he backed up and dropped to sit on the plush bench. Dean bunched up the material to her hips as he urged her to straddle his lap. Y/n used her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the new bulge in his pants a surprise to her as she settled in his lap. 

“Yeah, and you thought I was kidding,” Dean took in the slight rise in her brow, leaning forward to run his lips across her jaw, taking note of the places that made her shiver. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she allowed Dean to explore her body and let herself just feel him. Dean raked his teeth along with the shell of her ear, causing her to buck her hips and both of them to groan.  

“Fuck,” her words were a breath on her lips as she repeated the action, the roughness of his jeans just enough friction on her aching sex. 

“That’s it, beautiful, take what you need,” Dean sat back and used his hands to keep her body moving against his own, watching the way her brows scrunched together in the center of her forehead. With a shift of his hips, he had her pushed back and straddling his left thigh, his hands still in their place on her hips. “Can you come like this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t--” a jolt of electricity had her halting her denial, instead she chose to just nod and place her hands against his chest to balance her movement. She could feel Dean’s heart hammering in his chest under her palm and the quick rise and fall of his breath. Even at this moment, she was disbelieving that he was that turned on watching her get herself off on his thigh, but she had the proof hammering under her fingertips. Y/n was biting her lip to keep quiet in the small room. “Dean, I’m so close.” 

“I’ve got you, come for me, Y/n,” he husked as his grip tightened, though she wasn’t sure how that was even possible, seeing as there was already gonna be bruises there later, that she was sure of. The sound of his voice reverberating in her head had the coil snapping inside of her, heat flooding her body as every nerve sparked and faded out. A rush of air left her lungs, her body slumping as her muscles relaxed post-orgasm. 

“Oh my god.” As her arousal ebbed from her body and the reality of what just happened came to her sense, Y/n clammed up and she tried to climb from his lap. Blood rushed to her face and her hands flew to her cheeks to hide the heat settling there.

“Woah, where are you going?” Dean stopped her from making a hasty exit, his eyes searching hers in question. 

“Dean, what the hell just happened?” 

A smirk replaced the confusion on his face as he leaned forward and nuzzled his face in her neck, tracing his tongue up her pulse. “You just got yourself off on my thigh while I tried not to cream my jeans,” he breathed in her ear. It was like he already knew every button to push on her body, his dirty talk doing everything she needed it to for her body to already be aching for him again. 

“I--”

“Shh, sweetheart. That was hot as fuck, and all I want now is to be buried deep inside that pretty pussy of yours.” 

“Jesus,” her eyes shifted to his, taking in the mischievous glint shining behind his iris. “You aren’t kidding.”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ at the end of his word and Y/n nodded as she climbed off him. She turned her back to him so he could undo the zipper, and it took a second for Dean to catch on to her silent action. He jumped to the edge of the bench and tugged down the zipper before sliding the material down her shoulders. Dean hooked his fingers into the edge of her panties, placing a kiss on the dip in her lower back before pulling the soaked material to pool at her feet along with the dress. He stood then as she turned back to him and pushed his jacket and flannel down his arms, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes in the room. 

“Come, on we don’t have a lot of time before someone gets suspicious.” There was a quiver in her voice as she lifted the hem of his tee and tugged open his belt. It was taking everything in her to quell the shaking in her hands. Dean’s fingers came down to wrap around her wrists, halting her movement and she looked up at him. 

“Y/n we don’t have to,” he was trying to read her mind as he examined her face. The trepidation was seeping through her pores, but not because she didn’t want this. Hell, the painful ache between her legs told her how much she wanted this, but her brain couldn’t help to race through the million thoughts about what it all meant. 

“No, I-- God do I want this,” Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to come up with the words to explain to him what she was thinking. But the longer the time passed the more nervous she grew, standing there stark naked and he’s still basically fully dressed. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time now, but I’m just scared.”

“Of?” He urged her to continue.

“That this doesn’t mean the same thing to you,” Y/n cast her glance down, her eyes fixated on the way the fluorescent light glinted in the metal of his belt. 

“You think that this is about getting my dick wet for me.” It wasn’t a question, because she had all but spelled it out for him. “Y/n,” He put his fingers under her chin and turned her head back up to his, brushing his lips against hers, the action soft and unhurried. “I told you, I’ve been watching you for a while now, trying to learn everything I could about you. I would have done this the first night I met you if I hadn’t thought about what it would do to you. But I’m done being scared because I think I fell for you a long time ago and no amount of whiskey or other women could make me forget that. So I’m done fighting it.” 

“Yeah?” Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears now, and Dean answered her with another kiss, pulling her body flush against his own as he invaded her mouth. The pair only pulled apart when they could no longer fight the need for air. “Dean--”

“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his grip on her to finish what she started with his belt. Y/n watched his movements, her breath getting caught in her throat as she watched him pull his length from its cotton confines. Dean signaled for her to turn with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. She obliged, of course, and Dean pushed her gently between her shoulder blades until her hands were pressed against the mirror. He nudged her legs to open a tad wider, meeting her gaze in the mirror. 

“Do we--” 

“I’m good if you’re good,” she told him, knowing where he was going with his question. He nodded to her before lining himself up with her entrance. Dean held her gaze as he entered her from behind, both of them sighing together as he became fully seated. Y/n closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself, her head falling between her arms. 

“Fuck, open your eyes, look at yourself,” Dean was biting his tongue as he swatted her ass to get her to lift her head again. She indulged him, looking at herself in the mirror before turning her eyes back to his in the mirror. “There you go,” he praised her, the words like music to her ears as he pulled back out and slammed into her hips. 

Dean set up a steady rhythm, careful to not shake the walls of the dressing too much with his movement. The couple kept their eyes on each other in the mirror, the moment the most erotic thing she could ever remember doing, but for the life of her, she couldn’t be bothered by it. Even from her vantage point, she could see how blown his pupils were, the black of his iris’ all but drowning out the green that she loved so much. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which she liked more now. All she did know was the feeling of him moving inside her and the way her muscles were shaking. 

A small knock had Dean stilling his movements, and Y/n stood up, pressing her back against his chest. He slipped an arm around her chest as she signaled for him to be silent. “You doing alright in there?” 

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a breath, “Yeah,” she called back, afraid her voice would be too wrecked if she said anything else. 

“Is there anything else I can get you? Maybe some different sizes?” The saleswoman tried again. 

“Nope, I’m all set, thank you.” 

“Okay, just let me know.” The sound of her footsteps could be heard retreating from the dressing room, and Dean pressed his face into her neck, the pair of them chuckling. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he adjusted their position, resuming the movement of his hips as he snaked his free hand down to rub against her clit. Y/n jolted in his arms at the contact, this time closing her eyes as he built her back up. “I’m right behind you. Can you come for me again?” Y/n nodded against him, her hands flying to his forearm as she felt herself jumping over the cliff, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her knees buckled and Dean had to adjust himself to keep her from falling, still fucking her from behind as her fluttering walls milked him to his own orgasm. He bit into her shoulder to keep himself from groaning out loud. 

“Sweet Jesus,” her body went limp in his arms as the pair of them caught their breath in the now muggy space. 

“Yeah, you are so not going out with that coroner tonight. We will find a different way.” Dean admitted as he pulled his now softening cock from her. Y/n flinched at the feeling and the subsequent rush of his release inside her. 

“What?” She turned to him as he began righting himself, not understanding why he didn’t want her to do her job.

“‘Cause you are all mine now,” Dean tugged her into his chest, his fingers around one of her biceps. “And I want to spend all night making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” 

“Oh,” Dean laughed as she blinked at him, clearly lost for any sort of coherent answer to what he just told her. 

“Get dressed so we can get out of here and kick Sammy out of our motel room.” Dean tapped her ass again and she pushed him away from her, a stupid grin on both of their faces.

Forevers: @22sarah08​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @katehuntington​ @lyarr24​ @malfoysqueen14​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @superfanficnatural​ @supraveng​ @talesmaniac89​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​

[askbloatedbellyblog]

Suneater’s Pants Problem

(Once again I try to write a short drabble and then it is definitely not)

The patrol day at Tamaki’s internship started so well. As he changed clothes from his civilian outfit to his hero uniform, he was pleased at the progress that he had been making with Mirio in the weight room and training. He was always proud of it and took it as a symbol of Mirio’s hard work and being able to be stronger to protect his now powerless friend. His stomach growled loudly in protest from lack of being fed after their hard workout after Tamaki had to leave the gym directly to go to his internship with Fatgum.

He pulled on his black spandex compression shirt over his defined muscles, his athletic and toned muscles, though not as big as others more muscle bound than he (Mirio came to mind), bulged out from the stretched fabric. It brushed over his abs even as his empty stomach behind them groaned in need, the cobbled muscle still concave down to his narrow waist. “Can’t you be quiet for once?” He asked his own body as he rubbed his hand over his abs to try to signal that now was not the time. Kirishima walked into the locker room just as Tamaki was done putting on his shirt and about to put on his hood and vest. “Looking good there Suneater! So manly!” the redhead added, not so subtly checking him out. However, Tamaki’s stomach didn’t want to be left out and let out a mighty roar of hunger like a monster was clawing its way out. Both looked down at Tamaki’s flat stomach. Tamaki lowered his hood in embarrassment. “...Sorry... I didn’t get to eat.” This ended up being Tamaki’s famous last words.

Several hours later, after their shift was done, Tamaki groggily pulled himself into the locker room with a hiccup. It had been a slow day on patrol with Fat Gum and Kirishima had taken the opportunity to spill the beans that Tamaki was hungry. Not only that but Tamaki’s stomach agreed with the statement and let out a growl loud enough to even make Fat Gum worry. “Don’t worry there Suneater! We got you covered! You’re a growing boy, we’ll make sure you get plenty to eat!” Fat Gum said, slapping Tamaki on the back hard enough that he almost went flying. Kirishima was all smiles though there seemed to be a glint in his eyes that the anxiety ridden Tamaki worried meant something else, and he was right.

The pair had apparently made it their mission to feed Tamaki plate after plate of food at the local restaurants on patrol. Tamaki was pretty sure he had lost count as he just tried to keep up with everything that was shoved into his face. He knew there was more to it when he was full and trying to tell Fat Gum he had had enough, but Kirishima kept pushing for Tamaki to eat more. “You should have heard how loud his stomach was! It’s so manly, we got to make sure he eats just as manly an amount!” as he got Fat Gum to pay for another order.

But now the damage was done. Tamaki had had to undo his vest and utility belt to make room for his aching stomach, and was grateful for said vest and his hoodie to hide some of the damage the food had done to him while he was shoving food into his mouth. He just wanted to be done and home and rest off his protesting food baby that stretched the skin on his middle. His stomach was just as noisy as before but instead of growls of hunger, it was giving off sounds of protest. His stomach glorped and gurgled, with shifting food inside as it made its way down his digestive tract painfully obvious as he moved. He sat down with a huff and bent over to try to undo do his clothes in front of his locker. As he bent forward with a grunt, he burped unintentionally as he took off his robe then his tight fitting spandex pants that hugged his butt and legs and looped around the arch of his foot. His protesting and burbling stomach in his lap pressed down on his legs, making it painfully obvious just how round and bloated he really was.

Tamaki rubbed his belly to try to take the edge off or coddle it to let it know he was painfully aware of it’s protests. It wasn’t exactly his fault he ate so much. I mean it partly was because deep down he liked being full, bloated, heavy, and round; letting his inward gluttony come out. But he didn’t want it today! They just kept shoving food at him, especially Kirishima! Well at least that’s what he tried to say softly to his stomach as he worked up the courage to continue to change his clothes. Taking a deep but painful breath, thanks to his overly engorged middle, he took off his spandex shirt that had put in a good fight over his indulgence but had moved past being able to contain his bloated out abs completely and had ridden up to his stretched belly button. It was near hard as a rock before thanks to his training and now his middle was near hard as a rock from his eating. He grunted loudly as he pulled the shirt off over his chest and head and then pulled his arms out of the tight material.

Steeling himself once more, he grabbed his boxers and put them on, grunting again as he had to work around his bulging belly in his middle to slip his feet into the hole and then stand up. He was forced to have them low, under the swell of his belly. “One down…” he said with a huff, his dark bangs moving a bit out of his face from the puff of frustrated air. He tried to bent at his knees a bit to then grab his jeans and tried to balance as best he could to put on the jeans while standing since he was not eager to let his belly get in his way once again. He tried to use the side of the locker as a brace for balance and pull up the jeans and fit his feet through the holes. He let out a sigh that this procedure was substantially easier than putting his boxers on despite his lack of firm balance. He grunted again as he bent down to grab the waistline of the jeans to pull it up to his waist. The jeans always showed off his legs and butt, and had only gotten better at doing so thanks to Mirio’s constant training. He could feel them sliding over his muscular bubble butt. He felt relief like this eating adventure was almost over and he could go home and rest.

That is until he went to try to zip up the fly of his pants. His belly had grown enough aside from the first inch and half of his fly near his crotch and snatched waist that the two sides of the fabric refused to meet or be forced together, let alone their marriage at the button at the waistline. The blood drained from his face. Somehow despite having eaten himself to such a state before, it hadn’t occurred to him it would happen and he had tried so hard to prevent this from happening on his internship days. “Oh no, no, no, no…” he started to whimper to himself as he tried once again to zip up the remainder of his fly. He sucked his stomach in, much to it’s annoyance as he burped loudly at the pressure though it was directed at his muscular chest as he was quite focused on looking down even though he couldn’t see the results over his bloated belly. His stomach sloshed around hard as he sucked in again and then let it out. He sucked it in one more time getting up another inch or so of progress on the zipper but any progress he made was immediately lost and his zipper even conceded territory once he let out his inhaled breath and it almost looked like his stomach was even bigger than before.

He then made an ill-advised attempt to try to force his pants higher on his body by jumping up and down, his gut protesting at every shake. The firm and heavy organ seemed delayed as it moved up and down just a bit slower than the rest of Tamaki, making it slosh around like an overfilled barrel. He jumped and tried to pull the two sides of the zipper together at the same time as it only served to make the jeans ride up higher and hug his muscular ass even more. But as soon as he let go, the zipper would spread open like the parting of the Red Sea with his stretched pale flesh filling the gap almost immediately.

Tamaki gave up and sat down on the bench in a huff, dejected that he’d be forced to go home with his pants so exposed. Shirtless and with his belly in his lap he brought his head to his hands as he tried to think of something to do or at least get up the courage to finish dressing to then go out and face the world with his globe of a gut.

However, he never got prepared for that moment, for it was at that point that Kirishima opened the door to the locker room and found the bellied hero sitting there in anxiety ridden despair. “Dude! Look at that monster belly mound! You really do look like you ate the sun! That’s manly as hell,” he said, going up and rubbing Tamaki’s bloated and rounded abs with his hand and poked it to test that it was real. Tamaki let out a soft belch though was almost too dejected to worry about the intrusion of his personal space. “I...ate too much. Why did you keep having me eat?”

“Because you were hungry and you’re eating is crazy awesome and honestly kind of hot. Tell you what, we can get you some dessert on the way home, and I’ll help provide some cover for your belly by walking in front. Besides with your shirt on, I doubt anyone would even notice!” Kirishima said still more focused on Tamaki’s bloated belly than anything else.

“You’d do that for me?” Tamaki asked hopefully. “Sure!” Kirishima said, tossing Tamaki his shirt. “Though I got to say, you’re also looking pumped as hell. Those workouts are really paying off for you.” He commented while Tamaki put on his shirt and sweater and tried to cover most of his belly. It covered his opened pants but it was still very obvious that Tamaki was bloated as hell. Kirishima patted Tamaki hard on the back in a show of friendship but all that did was make Tamaki let out a belch that rattled them metal of all the lockers in the locker room. “Excuse me…” Tamaki croaked out as he wiped away some of the spittle that had come shooting out of his mouth thanks to the extra powerful belch.

“No worries dude! Now let’s think about what to get you for some dessert. By the way, just how much do you think you can fit in that thing? Something extra big?” Kirishima asked, trailing off as they left the agency locker rooms for their dorms, but still no doubt making some additional eating pit stops for them both along the way.

[sheliesshattered]

The pleated panel on Jack's jacket is done!

I'm really pleased with how it turned out, and when I saw this beam of sunlight hitting it where it was hanging in the closet, I couldn't help but take a couple of photos lol.

The panels run from the edge of the stand up collar to the edge of the cuffs on both sleeves. Jack pretty much always wears the jacket with the cuffs turned back, but I finished the edges so that it looks good if he's wearing it unfolded, too.

I think the effect is wonderfully Star Wars-y without being too weird looking. Jack can wear the jacket with regular outfits and the pleating will be just a cool detail. He's excited about wearing it, both to Batuu and just in general, and really what better measure of successful sewing is there than that?

The pleated fabric continues to photograph a bit more brown than it looks in real life, though I did manage to get a photo in natural sunlight where the color is pretty accurate:

We've started talking about what other little details or greeblies we might want to add to the jacket before we go to Batuu on Tuesday. Top contender at the moment is adding a little pocket above one of the top flap pockets, designed to hold a couple little code cylinders (just left over bits from when I made my Oswin Oswald belt).

One of the first modifications we made to this jacket was to cut out the hood that used to live stuffed inside the zipper on the back of the collar -- mostly to reduce the puffy bulk in the collar, but it also means that I have some extra fabric that matches the jacket exactly. I also have more of the fabric from the pleated panel if we decide to add a little contrast element.

But first! I need to get all the hooks and eyes sewn onto my vest. Yesterday I marked out the placement for the eye side of the five that surround the zipper (and thus are actually functional), and sewed on the hook half of the one that will secure the underlap and make zipping up the zipper easier. Once I've got these marked out eyes sewn on, I'll need to put the vest on again to check where the corresponding hooks should go on the underside of the overlap.

Attaching the hook on the underlap went pretty quickly and feels nice and secure, so I'm hoping I can get through at least most of the hooks and eyes today. Putting on the hooks and eyes is the very last step for the vest, as I don't plan to add any additional details or greeblies. Nearly there!

I'm continuing to noodle on ways to cover the laces of my Doc Martens and the buckle of my belt. I have a couple of ideas, some of which would involve putting pieces together with E6000 glue -- which is part of the reason I've been putting off gluing my kyber crystal necklace, so I can just glue everything in one go. I would really love to focus on all those bits this weekend, which means I should get back to sewing those hooks and eyes into place.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Night Ride

Dwayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Warning: contains physical intimacy, blood drinking, and mature language.  

Summary: Dwayne and you are enjoying a night ride along the Santa Carla coast when you start to feel a little cheeky. Risqué behavior ensues. 

It was a quiet night at the boardwalk, typical for the time of year when school was back in session and it was off-season for tourists. There was no live music that night, instead a popular Tom Petty tune played over the loudspeakers. Human traffic was a third of what it was during the summer, people mainly flocked to the food and shop stalls in an attempt to keep warm amidst the evening chill.

Most of the time you were fine with making rounds at the boardwalk even when it was dead, but that particular night you felt restless. None of the shops had any new wares to look at and you rode the Giant Dipper coaster four times in a row which quickly took the thrill out.

Sensing your mood, Dwayne herded you to a bench in front of the carousel while the other three boys peeled off to continue following a group that was headed further into the park.

He sat next to you, his heavy, leather clad arm rested along the back of the bench, surrounding you with his presence without actually touching you. The metal seat would’ve likely felt cool to the touch, even through your pants, had you not been a member of the undead.

You instinctively scooted closer to Dwayne seeking affection despite knowing he wasn’t a big believer in PDA. Still, you cuddled into his side knowing that he would never turn you away and his arm came off of the bench to lovingly rub your arm.

The two of you sat silently in each other’s arms, observing people who walked by, the tinkling of the carousel’s jovial organ tune playing continuously in the background.

A few moments passed when you felt Dwayne’s fingers start to play with the hair near your ear. You looked up at him and found his chocolate colored eyes already trained on you. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Subdued only moments ago, you perked up and nodded eagerly. Dwayne got the okay from David that rang in both of your heads courtesy of the coven mind-link and you walked hand-in-hand back to the entrance where the bikes were parked.

Dwayne hopped on first, kicking the motorcycle upright, and you got on second, linking your fingers across his stomach to secure yourself when the bike jolted to life. He didn’t say what route he had planned but when he opted to forego racing along the beach, instead heading out to the road, you knew he was taking the scenic way back to the hotel.

The late night road was mostly vacant making it easy to cruise along the curvy road, the dark, vast ocean on the left-hand side. Dwayne ran the engine at near wide open speed and the wind beat strongly, mixing your hair with his in a whirl of tresses. In spite of riding in seemingly reckless abandon, you knew that he was keeping a close eye on the road; he didn’t want to risk wrecking with you onboard regardless of your immortal status.

Dwayne sighed in contentment up front, the speed was a way for him to have fun that he made sure to take advantage of.

You chose a different way to make some fun for yourself.

The bike was humming along, the engine humming rhythmically between your legs with a blanket of stars shining among the navy sky overhead. Squeezing your chest more fully into his back, your hands started to wander with the goal of giving him something to sigh about.

Your fingernails scratched gently over the solid ridges on his abdomen as they headed further south into dangerous territory. He went still, even by Dwayne standards, and you knew that you had his attention.

He turned his head around just enough for you to see the look in his eyes that said to cut it out. They also betrayed the interest that he tried to hide under his seriousness. You relented momentarily and your hands went returned to a respectable position with your hands linked around his stomach.

He nodded in approval and turned to face the road again. Normally, you took pride in being the mature one in the coven, along with Dwayne, but that ride had you in a playful mood. Game on, you thought to yourself.

The reprieve didn’t last long before your hands started wandering again, going upward to his pectorals that time. One benefit to him wearing an open jacket was that it made his body all the more accessible to you. You kneaded the muscle there to the best of your ability given the angle you had to work with while riding on the bike. His skin didn’t have the same heat that a human did but he still felt warm to your touch.

A low hiss was audible even over the wind when you tweaked his left nipple with a little more force. He let up on the gas a bit, enough for you to feel a lull as it shifted from a racing to a cruising speed. You raked down once more, making sure to fan out to his sides in order to caress his ribs until you reached his hips.

His knuckles tightened on the handlebars when you traced the deep v of his lower abdominals. Y/N… he warned through your link.

With bated breath from both parties, you dipped below the waistline of this worn jeans. The smooth brass button at the top snapped open, adding another splash of heat to the situation. The zipper teeth clicked as you pulled them apart until it went as far as they could go.

His head dropped back for just a second when your hand finally made direct contact with him and you proudly noticed that he was already decently hard. You briefly pulled back to lick a stripe along the length of your palm to make it easier to handle him.

The had was inserted back into his jeans and you drew him out, exposing his cock to the crisp air. The splash of heat from earlier reached a boiling point that was almost tangible. You wrapped your hand around him and gave a few measured pumps, twisting just a little when you got to the top of the shaft.

There was a constant stream of growls and shudders and you felt an incredible sense of power to be able to elicit a reaction like this from him, no matter that you had been intimate hundreds of time prior.

You vaguely registered him pulling a hard left that sent the bike across the oncoming lane and onto the wide, barren plain that lead right to the rickety wood steps outside of the cave entrance.

He let out a particularly drawn out “Shit,” with one of your tugs that had you giggling. You doubled down on your efforts, feeling more emboldened the closer the cliff and the stairs approached.

Dusty dirt and gravel kicked up as Dwayne brought the bike to an abrupt halt, so abrupt that the bike nearly threw the two of you off. A hint of salty ocean spray tickled your nose as his hands gripped your thighs with the intent to move you.

In one last act of playfulness, you brushed his thick hair aside and bit him, fangs piercing brown skin that allowed his blood to trickle into your mouth.

Tease, he moaned while you suckled at his neck.

You released your hold on him with a wet ‘pop’ and Dwayne had you off of the bike and in his arms in the blink of an eye. He fell back onto the hard ground with a loud bang and kept you on top so that you didn’t have to be the one rolling in the dirt.

His lips and tongue attacked yours hungrily, and he was so desperate to have you that he told you in a guttural voice, “Here. Now.”

You weren’t about to refuse him and your mouths met again with vigorous kissing.

He ripped your top apart easily, not in the frame of mind to be gentle with your clothes. He leaned up to capture a nipple and proceeded to nip and suck you, his hand giving attention to your other breast.

Your breathing sped up and you held his head to your chest, warmth leaving your limbs shaky. Lower down, you felt your panties start to dampen, and it was Dwayne’s turn to delve into your pants.

He dragged your pants down and moved the panties to the side so that he could cup you, his fingers teased your entrance while the base of his palm added pressure to the bundle of nerves on top. You whined when one of his fingers suddenly slipped inside you with no resistance. Unable to stop yourself you rocked in an attempt to try and create some much needed friction.

“Shit,” he groaned placing a sloppy kiss on your shoulder. “That slid right in, princess.”

He gave you a moment before adding another and you shut your eyes tight, the sound of his fingers inside of you too much to bear. But then his thumb grazed your clit and they shot open again, your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

Satisfied that you were ready for him, Dwayne tapped your hip with a gentle, “Up,” so that he could fully remove your pants.

You nodded frantically. You would do anything he wanted right then. You would do it happily.

By the time you were bare from the waist down and back on top of him, he had also kicked his pants down. The jacket stayed on, not that you complained—he looked damned good in that jacket.

Even in the midst of lust he had enough restraint to slowly push into you. His cock was wide inside you and it was disorienting as he continued to push inward. The sky spun as your head tipped from delicious pleasure. You moved in tandem from the start, a product of knowing each other bodies as thoroughly as you did.

To the untrained eye he seemed completely in control, his thrusts even and steady the entire coupling. But you recognized the truth. His hands were a vice grip on your hips and his brow protruded the moment his fangs dropped; his eyes were still brown but it wouldn’t take much to get them to turn.

The pace in no way slowed your climb to the precipice and it wasn’t long until your arms no longer had the strength to support you. “Please.”

Dwayne gladly accepted the added weight on his chest and did work for you, the tatters of your ruined top stimulating your nipples from it laid trapped between two bodies. Roughened fingertips rubbed you with precision and his pelvis bucked into you, the excitement building.

The thing that pushed you over the edge was when his tongue ran along the veins in your neck, tracing patterns and sucking at the base of your throat, whispering his love for you. His fangs broke skin and that was it. Euphoria bloomed from your core, spreading to encompass your whole body.

You chanted his name in breathy gasps, your muscles clamping down hard. He quickly followed you into rapture, kissing at your bottom lip while he rode his own wave.

When the fog lifted the two of you were still breathing heavy, every move ten times more sensitive than usual. He made an effort to cup the side of your face. You’re beautiful, princess. Always, he whispered.

Just enough blood rushed to your face to color your blush and you hid in his mused hair. He merely smiled and drew you in for another kiss—a languid one.

His eyes had finally taken on the marbled yellow-red color shared by all vampires and you were certain that your features mirrored his.

Beautiful, you parroted his earlier words, making sure that he heard.  

He may have been a monster, but he was your monster.

_______________

In the year of our lord 2021, I posted nsfw for the very first time 🙈. I’m in no way qualified to write this but was inspired by a confession made on @darling-disastrous​’s blog. Enormous thanks if you stuck with it all the way through! I hope it was alright.