#but i changed the frilly thing to a bow

[child-of-the-cosmos]

P.o.v.- you give moon a camera.

[robinsnest2111]

Once again pondering my fucked up incomprehensible gender presentation and internal gender experience and uhhhhh not having a good time

[wisteria-lodge]

JK Rowling & the Color Pink

So I'm working on a thing about queer coding in the Harry Potter books... and first I needed to do a sidebar on how the color pink is used. I’ve made a list of every time a character either wears pink, or is heavily associated with a pink object. We actually get some pretty clear categories that are unintentionally very revealing, and say a lot about how JKR sees "girly" femininity.

Let’s start off with the obvious: 

PINK = VILLAIN (FEMME) 

Petunia Dursley: “salmon-pink cocktail dress," "neat salmon-colored coat." Also paints her walls "a sickly peach color."

Gilderoy Lockhart: “lurid pink robes to match the decorations” 

Pansy Parkinson: “very frilly robes of pale pink” 

Rita Skeeter: “long nails were painted shocking pink” 

Aunt Muriel: “feathery pink hat gave her the look of a bad-tempered flamingo.” 

(Aunt Muriel only shows up briefly at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but then proceeds to insult pretty much every other character, and give Harry an existential crisis by spilling the tea on Dumbledore)

Dolores Umbridge: “a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan.” 

(Also: has pink stationary, and her pamphlet MUDBLOODS and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society has a pink cover) 

Cho Chang

(Okay. Not a villain per se, BUT. Cho is the reason the mole gets into the DA in the books (and just is the mole in the films.) And given that she is a sort of Umbridge-aligned sub villain in book 5, at least structurally... it IS interesting that the place she brings Harry for a date has this very pink, Umbridge-coded description. 

It was a cramped, steamy little place where everything seemed to have been decorated with frills or bows. Harry was reminded unpleasantly of Umbridge’s office. “Cute, isn’t it?” said Cho happily. “Er . . . yeah,” said Harry untruthfully. “Look, she’s decorated it for Valentine’s Day!” said Cho, indicating a number of golden cherubs that were hovering over each of the small, circular tables, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the occupants.

Fleur Delacour: “[her wand] emitted a number of pink and gold sparks.” 

(Also not quite a villain, and I adore Fleur BUT… she’s written hyper-femme in an intimidating, borderline threatening way. She’s very opinionated, bordering on rude. She’s “full of herself” as Ginny puts it. And when she gets engaged to Bill and becomes an unambiguously good guy, she has this interesting moment of ~Pink Rejection~)

“. . . Bill and I ’ave almost decided on only two bridesmaids, Ginny and Gabrielle will look very sweet togezzer. I am theenking of dressing zem in pale gold — pink would of course be ’orrible with Ginny’s ’air —”

Hermione Granger: “Wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown”

(Hermione wears pink exactly one time, and it is at her most villainous… during Book 1, when she tries to stop Harry and Ron leaving in the middle of the night to go duel Malfoy.)

A voice spoke from the chair nearest them, “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.” A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown. “You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped, “Percy — he’s a prefect, he’d put a stop to this.” Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering.

(She literally does the sitting-in-the-dark, villain-lamp thing. Also, in case you were wondering, yes Hermione DOES get a moment of ~Pink Rejection~)

Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.

Which brings us too: 

PINK = SILLY/FRIVOLOUS (FEMME) 

Sybill Trelawney: “after you’ve broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue-patterned ones? I’m rather attached to the pink.”

(She’s a fraud. Also hides empty bottles of sherry in the room of requirement. (I’m going to have to be uncharitable in this section, so am sorry.) 

Parvati Patil: “robes of shocking pink"

(Often described as “giggling,” thinks Professor Trelawney is amazing, the real deal.)

The Fat Lady: “a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.” 

(Often described as giggling. Drinks too much during the holidays. JRK is unfortunately well known for being fatphobic. Also the Fat Lady has a friend named Violet, and Parvati has a friend named Lavender. Not really going anywhere with that, just funny that they’re both shades of purple.)

Hepzibah Smith: “an immensely fat old lady wearing an elaborate ginger wig and a brilliant pink set of robes.” 

(So… almost identical description to the Fat Lady. And I think we should maybe talk about her more, maybe? Because the way she’s framed… I think she might be Tom Riddle’s sugar mamma?)

“I brought you flowers,” he said quietly, producing a bunch of roses from nowhere. “You naughty boy, you shouldn’t have!” squealed old Hepzibah, though Harry noticed that she had an empty vase standing ready on the nearest little table. “You do spoil this old lady, Tom. . . .” 

(Or maybe we… shouldn’t talk about that. Either way, Tom Riddle does kill her, steal her stuff, and frame her house elf so thats… not great.)

PINK = EMBARRASSING 

“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” said Professor Sprout. There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn’t pink and fluffy.

(Pink fluffy earmuffs are adorable.)

“Wash out your mouth,” said James coldly. “Scourgify!” Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag.

(The next two example are 'pranks' as well, I think the pink-colored soap is there to add a kind of insult to injury.)

Shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. 

(This is a bit from Fred and George’s farewell firework show, it's funny that they’re specifically pink fireworks that Umbridge can’t get rid of.)

“Headless Hats!” shouted George, as Fred waved a pointed hat decorated with a fluffy pink feather at the watching students. “Two Galleons each — watch Fred, now!” Fred swept the hat onto his head, beaming. For a second he merely looked rather stupid, then both hat and head vanished.

(also just, pumping up an embarrassing moment)

PINK = OUTSIDER, WEIRDO

Hagrid

Hagrid’s flowered pink umbrella, which contains his broken wand, is brought up a lot. In this case I think we’re meant to see it as a joke. Hagrid’s so big, and so masc, but the pink umbrella makes him non-threatening. However… the pink umbrella, it’s not a totally positive thing, is it? It doesn’t match, it isn’t *him.* Hagrid wouldn't have chosen to carry this around, totally on his own, if he'd had any other choice. It sets him apart, both visually and socially (because it's a constant reminder that he doesn't have a wand.)

Dobby

Dobby, once he is freed, gets pink-and-orange striped socks, and they’re meant to communicate that he’s… kind of a lot. “Yeh get weirdos in every breed,” as Hagrid puts it. JKR has a very strange, honestly antagonistic relationship with Dobby. He’s the victim of book 2, but structurally kind of the villain? He describes the house-elves situation as “enslavement,” but Hermione’s treated as overdramatic for calling house-elves slaves two books later. And then everything is ret-conned and Dobby is… just kind of weird for liking freedom (and socks) as much as he does.

Tonks

Book!Tonks defaults to “bubblegum-pink” hair. Her hair is described as pink a lot. (Movie!Tonks defaults to purple hair, because they were worried that pink would visually align her with Umbridge.) And this is the oddest one on the list to me, because Tonks is such a universally beloved, fan favorite character. But I really do think that *as written*... we’re supposed to put her in a category with Dobby. The two of them leave (unintentional) destruction in their wake. They’re loud, they’re a lot, they take up too much space. Harry thinks they’re both kind of annoying. (and yeah, Harry 100% thinks  Tonks is “a little annoying at times.”)

[doki-doki-imagines]

I want to make a request ^_^

I have a suggestion where the men come home and the air smells so good! They hear their s/o in the kitchen and they find her cooking… with nothing but an apron on. Can you write how Bi Han, Johnny, Kenshi, Raiden and Liu Kang please?

Bi-Han: -He doesn't even notice you at first, walking to his room to wear something more comfortable. -Then, while Bi-Han walks, he suddenly stops. A cartoon-ish sparks appears and eyes get wide. Are you- -He steps back and finally notices your body, your back…naked. -"Oh, you finally noticed Bi-Han!" You turn around, wooden spoon in your hand and a wide smile adorning your face. -Your front is covered by a frilly apron. Something is written on it, but Bi-Han simply doesn't care. He prefered the back. -"So you have nothing to say? Don't I look good?" You sing sang, twirling the wooden spoon near Bi-Han's face. -"I have a better way to use that spoon." He thinks, imagining your ass already red. -"O-Oh. Well, I suppose it wouldn't be bad." You break eye contact looking down, suddenly shy. -Damn, he must have said that out loud. -Well, Bi-Han would be really stupid to let this occasion slip. "And I'm not" this time, he just thinks, big cold hands already on your waist, lips on yours.

Johnny Cage: -Another one that doesn't see you at first, and then realisation hit him the second he is changing in his room. -Runs to you and bask in the sight. -Fuck, Johnny knows you have a cute ass, but that bow at the top really makes it look like a gift wrapped for him. -He'd like not to say anything, just looking at you while you work in his kitchen, but the desire got him into a chokehold. -"Heyyy" Voice deep and hands sliding down your back. "Hey! Wanna taste?" You say cheerfully, wooden spoon near his lips. -Johnny's eyes widened in surprise but nodded at your proposal, eyes closing to taste fully your scrumptious cooking. -But his lips don't find food, but your lips. Tongue already prodding to open him up. -Things escalate pathetically quick. Don't worry about burning the food! You won't reach the bedroom so you'll notice if something is wrong. -Not that you will be in the right mind to care about it.

Kenshi Takahashi: -When he comes back from work, his nose leads him to the kitchen, sniffing the aroma of delicious food. -"What is my sweet cook making?" He says, mouth near your ear while his hands massage your…bare shoulders? -"Mh? Are you wearing a top?" "No dear. Just an apron. Can you feel it?" You turn around and grasp his wrist, moving his hand directly on your chest. -Kenshi sucks in air before blood starts to flow way too fast to be physiological in his blood vessels. -The apron is all lace, he recognizes the texture, and it must be thin since he can touch your erect nipple underneath. -"Cat got your tongue?" "No, my mouth is watering, I know the sight in front of me is delicious." Kenshi gasps out. -You kiss him, and soon he pulls you down on the floor, but not before groping around to close the handles of the kitchen stove. -You need no distraction.

Raiden: -He walks straight into the kitchen after work, ready to prepare the meal for both of you or help you out. -But Raiden gets zapped at the sight! Your sugar paper colored apron, full of ribbons, catching all his attention. Mostly because you aren't wearing anything else. -"Do you need help?" His voice unaffected, but his eyes are fully concentrated on your body, sharps like daggers (maybe he hopes he'll be able to tear the apron down with his intense gaze). "Yes, Raiden. Thank you." You smile back. -You cook with no interruption, Raiden doesn't help much, his eyes fixed on your body rather than on the stoves. -You both sit, dishes in front of you, warm an inviting. -"Can I compliment you, Raiden?" "For what?" "Your self-control." He chuckles, understanding perfectly. -"What do I have to do to make you lose control? Don't I look nice enough?" Raiden gasps loud at your foolishness. "I just didn't want to cross any boundary, but believe me-" His eyes get darker, pupils black pools you can dive into "You look absurdly hot. Come here." Raiden growls out. -You are ready to sit on his lap, to encircle his hips with your legs, but Raiden stops you, clicking his tongue. -His index finger points at his knee, tapping on it. -"You have to pay for teasing me the entire evening. Show me how desperate you are for me." -You nod, mouth dry. -You don't mind this side of Raiden.

Liu Kang: -He knows you will do that, he saw it. Liu Kang awaits, patience is the virtue of the strong. -And damn Liu Kang is really strong. -So, when it finally happens, Liu Kang's smile goes from one ear to the other, his chest rising up and down after a heavy breath. -You turn around, smirk on your face. Smirk that fades quick when you notice Liu Kang's expression; he knew about this. -"You look wonderful." "And you should stop spoiling surprises!" You say angrily, as scary as a pomeranian showing his teeth in Liu Kang's eyes. -The only scary thing is the wooden spoon you are twirling under his nose that may stain his white shirt. -"You are right, dear one. But it just happened! Me and Geras were looking around-" "No excuses, mister!" Now the wooden spoon point straight at his nose, the surprise silencing Liu Kang. -But not for long. -"You are right, I have to ask for forgiveness." Liu Kang says, getting on his knees, while his hands slide down your waist. -"Liu, what are you- Hey!!" You shout in surprise. You didn't expect your boyfriend to lift up the end of your apron, his fingers pinching the cloth up. -Your naked legs, and not only, are in front Liu Kang, that has to keep himself from licking his lips. -"Now is time for the sinner to pay for his mistakes." Liu Kang's hands rub your legs and his head get close to your sex, your apron now covering his head. -You can feel him, but not see what is going on. -The sinner paid well his redemption.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: Charity Case

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stand in the changing room, staring at the mirror, at yourself. Peppermint cloys on your tongue as you consider the dainty blue sweater. It isn’t your pick. Few of the clothing are. You can barely differentiate between the weaves and colours. 

“Well?” Lloyd calls from the other side of the thin barrier between you. 

You rarely used dressing rooms. You shop at the thrift shop, find whatever looks like it will fit, and go. Not that you even do that often. You’ve been wearing the same wardrobe of used pieces for years.  

You shift and touch the little frill along the collar. It frames your neckline prettily but it’s just too much. A nice strong cableknit with sleeves you can tuck your hands into and some corduroys are much more practical. 

“Come on, toots, I’m dying. You find anything you like?” He urges. 

You face the door and slide back the lock. You step out. The walls are lined with mirrors. Behind him, behind you, beside you, everywhere. You pinch the frilly hem as you bite your lip. 

“I don’t know...” you drawl. 

“Wowza, that’s cute,” he smiles from the bench. His hands are full as he holds both your lattes over his lap. “I like the colour. Be nice with a skirt.” 

“Skirt?” You mutter, “I don’t really...” 

“I grabbed a few, why don’t you try one on?” He prompts. 

You hesitate then shrug. You turn back and see yourself reflect on the door. You only notice then that the light weave clings to the outline of your bra. You quickly hide inside and shuffle through the many hangers.  

You don’t realise how short the skirt is until you get it on. The lace lining sticks out the bottom and four little bows decorate the cream material. It’s sophisticated in a way you aren’t. You sift through and find a top you think matches. 

You steel yourself before you emerge again. Lloyd’s impatience seeps through with a clearing of his throat. You step out and clutch your hands behind you, staring past him. 

“Wow,” he breathes, “that’s nice, tootsie, we’re definitely getting that.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about the white,” you sway, “it’ll get stained.” 

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying it but don’t be so pessimistic,” he chortles. 

“Sure, you’re right,” you agree quietly. “Well, still lots to go through.” 

You shuffle back into the change room, shivering at the rush of air that floods beneath the short hem of the skirt. You continue the tedious task of going through each and every piece. You can’t focus on any of it. You’re indifferent to even the nicest garment, things that you may have coveted in a clearer state of mind. 

Lloyd carries your haul to the counter after handing off the cups. His is empty and yours is cold. You put his in the bin near the desk as he pays. You look down, embarrassed. 

“Lloyd, you don’t--” 

“Sweetie, Merry Christmas,” he interrupts and smirks at the front desk lady. “Careful with that, don’t wrinkle it.” 

He might be nice to you but there’s those moments where he’s so... demanding. You wish he’d be a bit kinder to the people doing things for him. You offer the associate a sheepish smile then hide behind the cup. You taste the cold espresso and hover. 

Lloyd gathers up the bags and leads you back into the crowded mall. You drain half the cup and give up. You subtly toss it as you pass one of the many waste bins. 

“Well, you still need some basics,” he declares and glances at you, nudging you with his elbow, “you know, under-roos.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah...” 

“There’s a Victoria’s Secret right there.” 

“Victoria--” you gulp. “That’s fine, er, no, there’s probably somewhere else.” 

“Hello,” a woman calls as Lloyd struts towards the marquee of the lingerie store. “We’re having a promotion. You can spin the wheel and get a coupon.” 

You cringe and hide behind him. He spins and gets a coupon for thirty percent off. The woman is tall and her dark red hair is perfectly waved. She’s all in black that clings to her figure prettily. 

“Come on, tootsie roll,” Lloyd ushers you inside. The boutique is far too nice for you.  

You keep your arms crossed as Lloyd browses. He is unfazed by the crotchless lace and the sleek satin. You get to a table strewn with cotton thongs and thick-banded boyshorts. 

“You get the pick of the litter,” he declares, “you need a bra? Maybe six?” 

“Lloyd,” you murmur, “I don’t know...” 

“What’s your size?” He peeks at your chest then his brows pop up and he chuckles. “Sorry, just trying to help.” 

“Um, I wear... sport bras, so...” 

“Hmm, let me find...” He turns and strides off before he can finish his thought. 

You frown and look down. You see a nice pair of coral panties but when you turn them over, you find the have a narrow back. You just want your Walmart high-rise. You sniff and step out of the way of some other shoppers. 

“There she is,” Lloyd appears out of the crush, “Toots, this is Lara, she’s going to get you fitted.” 

“Fitted?” You utter. 

“Yeah, she can help measure you for your bra size--” 

“That’s okay--” 

“It’s five minutes,” Lara insists, “in the back.” 

“We want to get you something nice,” Lloyd argues, “don’t we? Get bang for our buck.” 

You don’t have it in you to resists. It’s nice. You’ve never bothered with anything like that. Everything you have just does the job. It doesn’t matter if it really fits, just if you can get it on. And everything you have is gone. You suspect his present is more charity than holiday cheer. 

Embarrassed, you nod and try to force a smile. Lara waves you toward the dressing room and Lloyd turns to peruse the table of panties. You cringe and drag your feet across the store. 

As you’re shut in with Lara, she has you take off your shirt. You’re uncomfortable as she measures you through your sport bra. It’s almost like a medical exam. 

“He’s really nice,” she says. 

“Hm?” You sniff. 

“Your boyfriend. Gonna be a really happy holiday,” she chimes. 

“Oh, he’s not...” you drone but don’t finish. 

“Husband?” She wonders. 

You shrug. You don’t bother explaining. You just want to get out of this place. All these strangers are making you dizzy. 

[barefoothighlander]

could you do ghost being with someone on the team who’s just so innocent and naive it makes him wonder why they chose the job she has, like her callsign is angel, she puts her hair in braids when she’s allowed to, she puts little bows in her hair sometimes, she’s respectful etc

of course :) here's a quick little drabble I hope it fits what you had in mind

warnings: fluff, description of violence, mention of alcohol, mention of blood

The team got called in around midnight, everyone making their way to the base as quickly as possible, Ghost and you got there around 12:13, your appearances as a stark contrast to each other. He's drenched in black, face hidden from prying eyes behind the skull, looming and feared, you, on the other hand, showed up with your hair pulled back into french braids that ended in small buns behind your ears, a tank top covering your chest that had a small bow sitting between your breasts.

The two of you made your way into the conference room, Ghost finding his usual spot on the back wall while you greeted the team.

"G'mornin Angel" Soap greets, purposely avoiding Ghost's glare while he shamelessly eyes your form, "Little frilly for the field no?" He says pointing toward your top, you playfully push at his shoulder as you find your seats.

Price had given your mission assignments, a small hideout in the States was housing illegal weapons and you had to reclaim them.

You changed into your tactical gear and got into the plane, sitting between Ghost and Soap, fortunately, Soap liked to talk so the ride went quickly, the two of you chatting about your home life, Soap had recently gotten a dog and you were completely jealous, Simon designating your home pet free for the time being.

You landed and got started on the mission, following as Ghost took lead, clearing the building without a hitch while you followed behind, shooting down anyone in your sights. There were a few more enemies than you expected, having to use your knife on a few, effectively covering your gear in blood.

You completed the mission, boarding back onto the plane to return home, Ghost stares at you, the spatter of blood covering your soft cheek, it always confused him, why you decided to join the force, you were so soft, delicate when you were with him, he trusted your capability in the field, your skill saving his life a few times, but off the field, you wouldn't hurt a fly.

Touching down on base you decide to take a shower before going home, not wanting the dirt and blood on you to stain or transfer onto anything. You step out a few minutes later noticing Ghost sitting on one of the benches in the locker room.

"You know you can't be in here"

"Wanted to make sure you were okay"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs, turning and handing you a bag of clothes, you grab it and begin dressing yourself, brightly coloured sweats tugged onto your body before you cover your chest with a lace-trimmed tank top.

"That's why"

You furrow your brows in question.

"You're just very, innocent"

"Innocent?"

"I've seen you take out a room of men without breaking a sweat yet when we're home, everything is daisies and bows, it confuses me how you can be so kind and warm with a job like this"

You think about his words,

"It confuses me how somehow as nice as you would want to be with someone like me"

"Simon,"

You move forward to hold his face in your hands, a soft smile on your face, "My job is bloody and violent, and that's exactly why I am the way I am, it's nice to be - what'd you call it? Soft - it lets me forget about all the horrible things out in the world"

You reach down to kiss him, "And in regards to you, you aren't a dark person, you're thoughtful, generous, funny" You emphasize each word with a kiss.

"I just don't want them to take advantage of you," He says

"I doubt they'll even try when you're five feet away from me"

He huffs a laugh before the two of you make your way into the hall, greeted by the rest of the 141

"We're all going to the pub, care to join lovebirds"

Ghost grimaces at Soaps term,

"Of course," You say

You spend a few hours in the bar, the men all sipping on variations of whiskey while you sit with some fruity concoction between your hands.

"So what's with the bows," Soap asks, his words slurred

A small huh comes from you,

He gestures his hand in your direction, "Last week, you showed up with wee bows in your hair"

"Oh, um, I just thought they looked nice," You say suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

"They were cute lass"

A small smile creeps onto your face, "Well thank you"

"Can't have them in the field" Price says

"Of course Captain" You nod at him, trying to be serious but a small fit of giggles overtakes you, your laughter transferring to Soap and Gaz as they start laughing.

"I'm serious, your callsign might be Angel but you can't be skipping around on a mission"

You nod at him, feeling Ghost's hand on the small of your back while he leans into you,

"I think it's time we head home," He says, turning to look at the team now getting tired, you nod at him.

"We're gonna head out, see you all tomorrow" Your words are met with boos from Soap and Gaz,

"C'mon lass we've barely started"

"Johnny you're half asleep"

"Am not LT"

You giggle at the exchange, Ghost's arm snaking around your waist before pulling you out,

"G'night Angel!" Soap yells and Ghost lets a small grunt leave his mouth,

"Be nice Simon"

"I'll knock that stupid haircut off his head if he keeps flirting with you"

You laugh at his words, resting your head against his form while the two of you make your way home.

[minnies-puppydoll]

Could you maybe do one of seungmin getting mad at you in public for wearing revealing clothes, ty!

Seungmin Drabble #1

*~Disobeying Dom Seungmin~*

pairing: hard dom!seungmin x sub!reader

warnings: MEANIE PANTS SEUNG! no smut but very suggestive, lots of degredation, reader is called a bitch, i think thats it.

note: personally…i could never disobey him but thats just me🐶 good luck with that tho!

heres ur order!! smut under the cut!!!!!!!!!!!

it was going to be a perfect night. your boyfriend seungmin finally got reservations for that fancy, expensive diner you’ve been dying to go to.

the only problem was..you were running a little late.

you took a nice, long shower beforehand, using all the scents you know he loves on you. laying out three different dresses on your bed, you quickly tried to decide which one would be the best fit for tonight’s important date.

one was grey, and wrapped your body elegantly with silk fabric. the second was light pink, with a high cut waist and a frilly bottom, seungmin loves that one. and the third…oh.

seungmin hates this dress. he specifically told you not to wear it in public anymore. its was a black, hollow out dress with sheer fabric and strings where there wasn’t your boobs or your ass showing. nothing different than a stripper dress.

now, you know seungmin better than anyone. and when he says he hates that dress, its not because its ugly in any way, shape, or form. no. the way you look in that dress could make even him fall to his knees for you.

it’s because of the attention it brings to HIS precious girl. seungmin isn’t an insecure man either, he obviously wants to show you off on his arm when you get all dolled up for him, but with THAT dress? you couldn’t even get a few feet away from him without being approached or even made a pass at.

he knows you would never leave him for another guy, he just can’t stand people sizing up his pretty little prey like wild beasts. so, you aren’t allowed to wear it per his rules, fine. but honestly, you’ve always wondered what would happen if you disobeyed him.

so..maybe you wore the dress anyway..how bad could this go, right? now the problem was, how to get there.

normally he would pick you up in his car, but you know for a fact he would make you change immediately. so that was out. maybe you could just text him?

minnieeee?

hi, sweet baby🩷 you ready to be picked up?

uhhh

hm?

actually min, can i drive myself and meet you there? i have a suprise for you.

uh oh.

WDYM UH OH

that can’t be good. you’re scaring me💀

ITS JUST A SUPRISE OKAY

…its the dress isn’t it?

..no actually! its a secret so you’ll know when i get there so i actually have to go now and walk my fish see you soon love you bye-

we’ll see.

your nerves are alight as you pull into the parking lot, biting your lip in fear and arousal at how seungmin will deal with you. you’ve never disobeyed him before, always wanting to recieve his sparing praise and not cause a fuss.

your heels click against the floor as you step into the new diner, looking like the most expensive thing there. the confidence you’re radiating is only surface level though, the truth is, if you had a tail right now it would be tightly tucked between your legs.

when the host tells you where seungmin is sitting, you hesitantly make your way over. he is indeed there, he smiles at you sweetly before looking down at that dress. that stupid fucking dress.

he looks back up into your eyes with a dissapointed, mean glare in his. if you were at home, that look would have you begging for forgiveness. you immediately look down, shying away from his gaze as you put your purse down and bow slightly at him.

“hey, seungmin..”

“sit down.”

the demand has you plopping down in your seat without hesitation. his tone is clear and calm, but equally cold.

“i thought i told you not to wear that dress. hm? or are you just too dumb and slutty to remember my rules?

oh. his harsh words make your thighs rub together, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“m’sorry..”

“sorry what.”

“so..so sorry, sir.”

“look at you. i do all these nice things for you, give you all my attention and look where it gets me. is my attention not enough? need it from the other manwhores here? i think you’re just too much of a slut to be thankful.”

his words have bite, making you equally feel bad for disobeying and almost drool from the degradation.

“yes sir, im a slut, sir.”

“i know you are.”

“just..wanted to see what you’d do..”

“want a punishment? is that what the dumb whore wants? hm?”

“um..depends what it is?”

“you don’t get to choose, stupid.”

“…well, what are you gonna do then?”

seungmin leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking at you with an amused expression. only this time do you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly. seungmin scoffs.

“don’t fucking look at me.”

your eyes shoot down, just listening to him obediently. he leans forward to whisper in your ear.

“..when we get home, im ripping that slutty stripper dress off of you for good this time. then, im gonna muzzle you and make you beg for me to pound that slutty pussy like a good bitch. then lastly..you’re writing lines, sweetheart.”

sorry for ending it there..u just look so cute when ur teased<3 order again soon!🐶

[mellowsadistic]

The Flower Girl - Part 2

As Grace stared at Jessica, angry and confused, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled. “What’s going…”

But Jessica’s presence suddenly seemed magnified tenfold. It was as if Grace was looking up at someone much bigger than her, even though she and Jessica were the same height. There was a strange tingling in her brain, a rush of sudden vertigo. She imagined she might fall over, right onto her bottom. She giggled. That would be silly! She shook her head vigorously from side to side, trying to clear it.

“Not your… Not your big day,” said Grace, frowning. “I’m the bride.”

Jessica let out another one of her tinkling laughs. “Silly baby, you’re not the bride! Rob can’t get married to a silly little girl like you. This is my wedding, but I’m being very generous and letting you be the flower girl. Aren’t you lucky?”

Grace felt her head nodding enthusiastically. “Fank you!” she heard herself lisp. What the hell was happening?! The flower girl? Her head was clearing, but it felt as though she couldn’t control herself, like she was nothing but a passenger in her own body!

“Look what I got for you to wear, sweetie,” said Jessica, and she held up the dress she’d been carrying.

It was silly, frilly, and very small. The sleeves were puffy, the short skirt looked more like a tutu than anything else, and it had a large bow on the back.

Grace felt sick at the sight of it. No self-respecting woman would ever wear something so childish, something clearly meant for the youngest of children. But her body seemed to think differently. She heard herself gasp with excitement, and she thrust out her arms and made grabby hands at the ridiculous thing.

“Awww!” Olivia and Caroline cooed.

What was going on?! What was happening to her?! Her head was fully clear now, but Grace’s body still was completely out of her control. Why were Olivia and Caroline acting like nothing was wrong?!

“Alright, Gracie,” Jessica laughed. “Let’s get you changed. Olivia, Caroline, could you help her out of my dress?”

The two women hurried forwards and got to work. Grace could only stand there obediently, smiling vapidly and crying on the inside while her bridesmaids worked together to strip off various pieces of her attire and lift the beautiful dress back up over her head, leaving her in nothing but her underwear – and she didn’t get to keep those for long either.

“I can’t believe we ever thought you were an adult,” Olivia said, unclasping Grace’s bra and letting her large breasts spill out. She tittered at the sight of Grace’s tits wobbling on her chest. “Isn’t it funny how such a silly little girl has such big boobies? These massive knockers must have been how you tricked Rob into thinking you were a grown-up.”

To Grace’s horror, she started giggling and jumping up and down on the spot, making her bare boobs jiggle about madly.

Everyone laughed at her, and Olivia said, “I thought so! You’re just a naughty little brat, aren’t you sweetie? Just like Jessica said. I’m so glad you’ve come to your senses, Gracie. Jessica is clearly the one who’s meant to marry Rob, not you.”

Olivia would never say those kind of things to her! Grace was sure of that. Jessica must have done something to her, and Caroline as well!

Once Grace was standing in nothing but her undies, Olivia went over to Jessica with her wedding dress and started to help her change into it. Meanwhile, Caroline took the flower girl dress and held it up again for Grace to see.

“You’re going to look just like a princess, Gracie!” she said brightly.

Just like before, Grace couldn’t take her eyes off the mirror in front of her. But this time, her transformation was very different. Caroline slipped the tiny little flower girl dress over Grace’s head and started making adjustments to it, brushing down the skirts and squeezing Grace’s tits into the bodice.

Grace winced. It was so tight across the chest that it was painful. Her breasts bulged out obscenely through the fabric, and the puffy, frilly, tutu-like skirt barely reached past her bottom.

“There we go!” Caroline said. “Don’t you look pretty?”

Grace looked at herself in the mirror. She wanted to rip the ridiculous dress off her body and scream at everyone until someone told her what the fuck was going on. She wanted to smack Jessica hard across the face and throw her out of the venue. Instead she smiled stupidly. “Uh-hu!”

“Don’t forget to do her hair,” Jessica smirked, and Caroline nodded.

Grace could only stand there with a dumb grin on her face while her bridesmaid tied her sleek blonde hair into ridiculous pigtails sticking out from either side of her head.

There was a knock on the door and Annie, her third bridesmaid, finally came back into the room.

“Hi girls!” she said.

Grace prayed that maybe, this time, someone was going to come to her rescue. But then she saw that Annie was carrying something. Something large and white and rectangular.

When she realised what it was, Grace felt as though her heart had dropped into her stomach. Even the stupid little girl in charge of her body didn’t like it.

“Don’t need dat!” she heard herself whine as Annie came towards her, unfolding the crinkly, adult-sized disposable diaper as she went.

“Oh yes you do!” said Jessica loudly, and Grace looked over at her, her bottom lip trembling. “Toilets are a thing of the past for you, Gracie,” she said, a malicious look in her eyes. “Stupid little girls like you go potty in their pants, and that means you need a nappy on.”

Annie lifted up Grace’s flower girl dress, slipped a finger into the waistband of her underwear, and started sliding them down.

Grace looked on in horror, a stupid little pout still on her face, as her lacy white lingerie, a sexy surprise for Rob on their wedding night, was tugged down her legs. No, she thought, watching as Annie tossed them aside, come back!

But Annie was already slipping the bulky diaper between Grace’s legs, holding it up while she taped it into place. Grace could feel the soft, thirsty padding pressing against her pussy, ready to soak up all the pee-pee accidents she might have. This couldn’t be happening to her!

“There we go!” Annie cooed. “This suits you much better than that little lacy number. Your undies need to be designed in terms of how many potty accidents they can hold, not sex appeal.”

Once Grace’s nappy was on, Caroline stepped forwards again and, in case there was any doubt about Grace’s new position, placed a flower crown on top of her head.

“There’s just one more thing she needs,” Jessica said, walking over to her old clothes and fishing in the pockets. “Here we go!” She came back over and shoved a bright pink pacifier into Grace’s mouth, where it immediately started bobbing between her lips. “Perfect,” Jessica purred, drinking in Grace’s appearance like she couldn’t get enough of it. “We’ll be ready to go very soon.”

While her bridesmaids made the finishing touches to Jessica’s outfit, Grace toddled around impatiently, her thick diaper rustling noisily between her legs.

Then, without warning, she felt a sudden pressure in her bladder. She clutched her hands to her crotch, but the urge to go had become uncontrollable almost the moment it had appeared. Grace felt pee rushing into her pants, drenching the thick padding between her legs. The front of her Pampers discoloured, sagging until the yellow-tinged padding peaked out below the hem of her dress.

“Uh-oh,” she said softly, wrinkling her nose as the sharp smell of piss reached it. Inside her head, Grace was shrieking in horror. She wanted to throw up. She’d never been so disgusted in her life! It was awful, the feeling of her pee sloshing around in her pants, the sopping wet padding pressed against her nether regions. Someone had to save her! They had to!

At last, Jessica was done. She smirked down at Grace in her ridiculous little flower girl dress, dummy in her mouth, her hair in ludicrous pigtails. “I think someone had better check the baby’s nappy,” she said.

Caroline stepped forward, lifted up Grace’s dress, and probed the front of her diaper.

“She’s done a wee-wee,” Caroline announced. “Should I change her?”

“Is she about to leak?” asked Jessica.

“No, I think it can take a bit more,” Caroline replied, as Grace fidgeted in place like an impatient little girl, praying desperately that her bridesmaids would come to their senses, that someone would rescue her.

“Leave her for now,” Jessica instructed, a note of delight just detectable in her voice. “We don’t want to waste nappies.”

“You’re in charge,” said Caroline, and she actually did a little curtsey.

“That’s right,” said Jessica, her smile widening. “I am. It’s my big day, after all.”

[eluxcastar]

Heyy! May i request dottore x fem!reader who is a Porcelain doll(a puppet like scara but she's made out of Porcelain instead) and likes all those cute feminine stuff and collecting stuff like bows, Porcelain dolls and more. And I wonder if dottore would like the reader being pretty feminine and what's his opinion on Porcelain dolls (don't mind when i did any mistakes, English isn't my native language)

~🎀🧷

Dottore with a doll reader

── ୨୧：il dottore x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: silly rambles about Dottore and doll reader being cute

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader (no gendered terms really used tho tbh), soft dottore (listen it's my guilty pleasure), reader has the properties of porcelain, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 950

THIS ACTUALLY reminds me of one of the very very first drafts I wrote even before Tartaglia's little brotherfication (coincidentally also of Dottore) so this is very fun. That doll was one of Sandrone's creations and I've decided so is this one

this also may hit close to home did I ever mention my slight obsession with dolls (it's worse than slight)

Dottore has fixed you many times, much to his inconvenience.

He has warned you many times against becoming reckless, but you never seem to listen, at least in his eyes. You are by no means fragile—porcelain is hard to chip away at—your habit is simply that of finding danger. Finding it, throwing yourself at it, and landing yourself here in the darkest corners of the Fatui's headquarters so the doctor can carefully string you back together.

A gentle touch is not his forte, the practised hands of a doctor toiling away in his effort to put you back together. You prefer him to Sandrone any day for how much less pain you associate with him. He can scold you all he likes, but it may never work. You'll keep coming back and asking for his help when your strings come loose, and he will oblige your request for reasons that escape even him. It is a simple process now performed practically from memory.

Your habit of collecting frankly worthless items is certainly something. The bows, frilly dresses, and varying spools of lace you always claim you'll do something with and never do all feel normal. The porcelain dolls, on the other hand, are...interesting.

You are a living porcelain doll, and yet you collect them like novelty items. Isn't that like your equivalent of collecting human babies? Whatever it is to you, people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, so he keeps quiet as you fuss over their placement and hair, straighten their clothes or whether you're willing to sacrifice the careful styling of their hair to a pretty hat. It keeps you happy and away from everything dangerous that you seem to always run into.

The truth is, you are not in the slightest delicate despite making yourself seem that way. What you are is heavy, too heavy to always be lifting onto an operating table and too heavy to be lugging your pieces around—porcelain is not light.

However, there is interest to be had in the workings of your construction, which he is reminded of each time he takes you apart and watches you divide into inanimate pieces. You talk to him sometimes, pleasant background noise, or maybe just annoying when you start asking foolish questions he can't possibly answer. He can handle every "What are you doing?" and "Why are you doing that?" but when you begin to show your ignorance regarding your own creation and try to turn to him for answers instead of Sandrone, it frustrates him. 

You're supposed to answer his questions.

"She doesn't like my questions," you reason, and he never has to wonder why that is. Your incessant prodding and curiosity would irritate her, as does his indulging of your curiosity. She will complain that you're becoming restless and not as quickly satisfied, but really, nothing much at all has changed.

He can deal with your gravitation toward the things that make you happy if that's what keeps a smile on your face. One might even say he doesn't mind it, even when you pester him to help you tie your bows when they come loose in your hair or listen to your ramblings as you try to get him to help you with your dolls. He's better at tying knots than you. His hands have friction to keep the strings in place, unlike your slippery porcelain hands.

Your habits are endearing in their own way, the satisfaction with things that make you feel...human. You will never be, but the illusion of humanity and the yearning to chase it is not unlike the Segments. They think of themselves as human, believe they are, and exist as though they are human, yet they will never be as human as Prime. The only idea that makes sense is that you are displaying the same behaviour.

It is how Sandrone made you to be.

He can't say he especially blames you for following what your creation dictates. Your presence could bother him more than your interests could, namely a result of your many, many questions. It's not that you're sheltered or ignorant of the world around you—far from it—but most people don't know the nature of the things he works on, and you are no exception. You learned everything by asking, and he presents a wormhole of knowledge that you seek to understand by having him explain everything he's doing to you in great detail.

There's a bargaining that comes with it. Dottore will give you things so long as you stay out of the way, and you'll inspect them with a curious eye because he presents you with what Sandrone keeps you from. That is the only reason he can accept as to why you're talking to him, not that you like his voice and his smile, nor that you find the things he says fascinating or enjoy the light brush of his fingers against yours as he passes you your little 'distrations'. It's enough to watch him.

He complains his hands are always cold, and supposedly so are yours, but you've never felt temperature before. You like the faint glimpses of his scars, soft as his skin. They're not like yours, the closest equivalent being jagged cracks in your limbs that someone has to eventually fix before they worsen into breaks. 

Things are comfortable around him. He is used to the odds quirks of sentient, inhuman beings, and a benefit of being around them is that they don't mind how weird he is by most standards.

You are something he can easily get used to lingering around. Despite your similarities to the segments, he must admit that you are far less of a bother.

[codenamesazanka]

Age 3, Toga had her hair put up in messy buns, and dressed in cute, frilly clothing.

Her outfit looks to be a two-piece - shirt and skirt - complete with a little bow-tie and additionally frilly socks.

I don't think 3-year-olds can coordinate and dress into an outfit such as this without adult help; and to get her hair buns, there definitely needed to be an adult to style her hair.

So this was Toga, age 3, having been fussed over by her parents, who took time and attention to dress her in pretty outfits and brush her hair for her.

All this changed after she demonstrated the tendencies of her quirk, after her parents found her drinking the dead bird's blood:

In the first pic, she looks only slightly older than when she was in that frilly outfit - age 4 or 5, perhaps. She's several years older in the second pic - 8 years old, I'd say?

Her hair is being down is the most obvious change - her parents didn't take the time to style her hair anymore. They no longer help her put it in a hairstyle that would take an even few minutes of time and effort.

But her clothing has also changed - her dresses are much more plain, and look to be simple things that can be easily slipped over the head.

Much like how Toga's old house showed that her parents stopped marking her height at around age 3, the way Toga is dressed as a child also possibly shows that after Toga manifested her quirk, her parents might have just since gave her minimum attention. Might have avoided touching her as much as possible.

Toga will continue to keep her hair down for years afterwards until age 15 (last year of middle school). By then, she'll be old enough to do her own hair, but she continued to keep her hair down and straight. It's associated with 'normal' for her, the 'normal' that she's told to follow. It's part of the mask she wore, it's how she suppressed herself.

Once she ran away, though, once she's free from her house, and the 'normalcy' she was performing, Toga has her hair out in messy buns again:

And even in her imagine spot after her heart is saved by Ochako, she pictures herself with the same hair style.

[cinhomi]

Okay you want a concept, and I need to share this idea I had a few months ago. Basically I was trying on some new panties and being amazed at how soft and comfortable and pretty they were and my mind went : Jisung would DEFINITELY try lingerie on for sexy reasons but then he would try these and be like “okay the soft life chose me”. And just imagine you and him with matching soft panties, matching grey sweatpants, matching everything cuddling close and drinking tea and being happy. That’s my idea I needed to share.

I should have waited to write this, I did it while I was super tired and I also fell asleep in the process 😭 I could do better, that's for sure, but baby, I think about Jiji in lingerie more than anyone could ever imagine. that is for sure.

"Ji? What are you doing?"

Jisung freezes. He didn't expect for you to be home so... early. And now he feels so embarassed that he can't turn his head to look at you in the eyes. His puffy cheeks tint of the colour of freshly bloomed roses, while his hands tremble a bit, like the leaves outside being carried on the sidewalk by the cool breeze. His eyes are wide open for a second, and then they squeeze shut, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows, nose crunching as his teeth catch his bottom lip.

Will you think differently of him now? You do like his feminine side but... seeing your boyfriend wearing women's underwear might not be the best, especially if he's home alone, smiling at himself while posing. But then he suddenly feels the soft touch of your hand on his arm, caressing it from shoulder to wrist with your fingers, more softly than you ever did. He flinches in surprise, jumping a bit foward, before seeing your endeared look.

"You look so pretty..." the sentence just stumbles out of your mouth. You look so soft saying it, so convincing. He was at the store to buy you some pretty lingerie, but then he remembered a video you sent him saying you wanted to try and replicate it and well, the guy was wearing panties and stockings. The thought wouldn't leave his head. And it wasn't like he never wondered what it felt to wear your things, looking at you change so often. He knew you meant you wanted to try the position, but...

"Yes? Really?" he asks, under a breath, almost hoping you would say that. The fabric feels too soft, too comfortable compared to the one of his boxers. The frilly details on the elastic band are endearing and fun to look at, they make him feel tingly inside his chest. Do all girls feel prettier when wearing nice underwear? For a moment, he thinks about all the cute bras you have in your drawer.

"These suit you a lot." you purr into his ear, the corners of your lips lifted so that he sees your bright smile in the reflection of the mirror. The fingers of your other hand take the hem of the skimpy panties and play with it a little, as you leave a kiss on his nape, giggling when he squirms from the teasing touches.

He truly, really looks like a dream. The panties are white and definitely not the right size, hugging his every curve deliciously, but still looking soft on him. A little pink bow sits on the front, adding the last touch that makes you swoon. Jisung feels your arms enveloping him, hugging him from the back.

"You're not mad?" he's still unsure, still in disbelief. But the cotton feels amazing on his sensitive skin, and a little stain appears slightly on the right. He can't help it.

But then you don't reply. You just detach from him, and put down your bag on the floor. Then you let your jacket slide down your body. Jisung looks as you throw your sweater away, and in the end, just at the end, your pants. His eyes widen and his hands close in tight fists.

The mirror now reflects two pairs of white panties, with a frilly end and a pink bow carefully ebroidered at the front. Jisung can't help but grab you and take you closer, chest against chest, as he feels the delicate fabric between in his palms. You too, feel his sides under your hands, and the air becomes hot, and the kiss you share is electrical and exciting.

"What do you think about these?" you hold the black pair with the red details in front of your face, and Jisung immediately shoves them down and looks around, blushing like crazy.

"Baby please lower your voice!" he whisper-screams, covering his face with his hands, as desperate as a cartoon character. But you can't help the laugh that you let out, making an old lady look at you two.

"No one will ever know, I promise! You're just my boyfriend helping me pick up innerwear!" you kiss his cheek, the little part that's not hidden.

He suddenly looks around all over again, but the lady is no longer reserving her attention to you two, so he pouts and whines. "Won't the cashier find it suspicious that you're buying two different sizes?!" You keep looking around the thin decorated fabric, also searching for whole sets. The little store's shop bag is already full, but the image of Jisung wearing all the lingerie you touch is like a dream come true.

"I promise you that they don't care, baby." your smile is sickenly sweet, and that makes him huff. "Promise!" you add once again, making him sigh.

You've been kissing for a while now. You can usually sit together and actually listen to the documentary, but today you're a bit more cozy at your place. The new brand of tea you two decided to try turned out to be the best you have ever bought, the blankets were fresh out of the drier, especially fluffy, emanating a sweet scent of cardamom. And the cuddling became quite handsy. And you found yourself straddling Jisung, making out on the couch after licking away the crumbs of the last biscuit from his lips.

When you lower the zip of his jacket and let your hands wander under his sweatpants, meeting the familiar fabric of the panties you bought for him a soft moan escapes you. Jisung smiles. He smiles widely.

"These are the light blue ones... what are you wearing today, my baby?

[ryiju-muunie]

He’s into it!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: established relationship, furry!reader, reader is a furry, reader is into super pink frilly Sanrio stuff, Sukuna is a whipped simp, Sukuna and Yuji are brothers mentioned, fluff, mainly fluff with a treat at the end, grinding, dry humping, pet names (pup & puppy), aftercare Word count: 1644 DESC: Ryomen Sukuna hater of mullets lover of furries

This was originally a Drabble but I got carried away! I kinda wanna make this a series, should I?

Link to my Ko-fi if you want to support me!

Requests and ASKS are open!!!

Ryomen Sukuna would never admit it to you, but he likes it when you wear those ears and paws. It was a shameless hobby you had, dressing up like that for your Instagram. It was innocent but perfect. He loved how the paws were lightly colored and oversized, making you seem smaller. Then how the ears were the same.

You looked perfect. It was perfect! But… while it was all innocent and cute he couldn’t help but feel a deep and brooding feeling reside in his chest. God, it turned him on. The way you pranced around with your phone in public, taking photos with strangers if they asked. How your eyes lit up at conventions you dragged him to, forcing him to look at all the different paws and suits. Ryomen would of course pretend it was the worst thing on her, gaffing and rolling his eyes.

And then when you weren’t looking, he’d palm the fur of a pair of ears in his hand just because he loved the fluff. He had a habit of staring at cute things. Maybe that’s why he liked you. Even though he was the total opposite, with his big black tattoos and semi-shaved haircut. You two looked -acted- completely different. Yet he liked that. You could rant to him about some drama in your community and he’d just listen. Sure he didn’t understand all of it but he just wanted to keep you happy. Not to mention he just loved looking at you like that. Pouting pink lips and fluffy pink ears. Especially the clipped ones with bows and bells.

There was a point where it was becoming too much for him. He was seated on your light-colored bed, hugging a pillow to his chest as you hummed. You were changing into something he was told he wasn’t allowed to look at until you were done. Of course, he grumbled a curse and gave you a pointed look before doing exactly as you said. He caught small glimpses, something pink and frilly of course. God, he just wanted to rip it off of your curved body and fuck you senseless.

Ryomen had a habit of staring at cute things, yes, but he had a worse habit of staring at plump skin. So when he saw you, chubby and completely adorned in the cutest clothing he’d ever seen, he needed you. It was a weird thing, so weird his younger brother liked to tease him over.

“The girl's 5’4 and she’s got you completely whipped, Ryo!” Yuji would chortle, throwing his head back before receiving a coke can to the gut.

“Shut up, brat,” Ryomen retorted, rolling his eyes as always. He didn’t admit the hold you had on him to anyone else but you if you asked him. He’d just shrug and say something like “I please my woman” which was Ryomen Sukuna for “Please marry me I’m in love with you if you leave me I’ll kill myself”.

“Ryomen,” you murmured, turning on your white socks to show your outfit. My god. He was completely done for. There was no way he was going to recover from seeing you in that! Hell, it wasn’t even revealing but it was cute. It was fucking cute. And that’s what got him!

It was a ruffled pink dress, with a ribbon cinching it just below your breasts, letting the rest of the dress flow out. It came down quite low, about your knees. Then some white stockings to cover the rest. By itself it was fine. But you paired it with your favorite ears, paws, and now a fucking tail. Ryomen swallowed and blinked a few times. He had to keep the dress intact, he had to keep the dress in TACT.

Your face fell after a moment of no answer from your boyfriend. A pout formed over your bottom lip, shining in the glowing light with a hint of sparkle. New lipgloss. He looked down at his pants, groaning at the sight of his bulge. Of course, he was solid just from a look.

“Is it really that bad?” You frowned, crossing your arms. Oh don’t do that, he thought as his eyes glanced to your slightly exposed cleavage. You were torturing him in a way you never had before, and you were completely oblivious!

Ryomen muttered your name and hissed, rolling on his side and huffing to sit on the edge of the bed. He motioned his big arm in your direction, beckoning you to come over to him. You nodded and slowly crept towards your boyfriend. At that point, you had to have seen his boner, right?

“You look nice,” he whispered, wrapping one of his big hands around your waist. His other tapped your leg, signaling he wanted you on him. Even if this turned into nothing more than a wholesome interaction, he wanted you to touch him in some way, shape, or form.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you sighed and sat down. Your eyes widened when his tent pressed against the front of your crotch, “Oh.”

“I like it,” he grumbled, “I think I like it a hell of a lot more than I should. Is that weird?” He looked at your face, which was flushed a deep pink. A small frown pulled at his bottom lip and he used his free hand to poke at the apple of your cheek, “Don’t just stare at me, woman.”

You gave him a small warning look and he quickly corrected himself, “Don’t just stare at me … princess.”

“Everyone has their fetishes. I didn’t know you liked the furry thing like that,” you spoke delicately, with a tiny smile. Clearly, you weren’t weirded out by his admission of guilt. Ryomen nodded and leaned forward, resting his head against your collarbone.

“Don’t think about teasing me in front of the brat,” he mumbled against your skin, wrapping two meaty arms around your back.

You giggled and let one hand trail up his own back to his pink hair, “I won’t. It’s kind of hot that you like it anyway…” He knew the exact expression you were making even if he didn’t see you. It was the far-away look, with an almost innocent stare. It wasn’t really innocent though. That’s why it drove him mad. You could see the sexuality burning behind your eyes as you bit down on your lip. It made him insane with lust.

“Hot huh?” He sat up, looking up at you with narrowed eyes, “I didn’t bring any condoms.” Ryomen didn’t want to admit it but he had an idea that would keep your perfect outfit on without getting ruined, not get you pregnant, and get him off. One of his hands slid down your side and up your skirt to touch along your thigh, “Grind your pussy on my bulge, puppy.”

You nodded and bit down on your swollen lip again, putting both hands on your back to remove your dress. His other hand instinctively grabbed yours and stopped you, “No. Keep it on.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh… okay.”

The two of you found yourselves back against the bed. Ryomen laid on his back as you ground your soaked clothed cunt against his precum-stained shorts. His hands were planted on your hips, rocking them back and forth to get the job done. He leaned his head back against one of your sanity pillows, hoping he wouldn’t cum yet. You felt so good he just needed this to last a few seconds longer. Even though he couldn’t be inside you, he didn’t need to be. Just seeing your face and how it contorted in pleasure was enough for him. You moaned like a goddess, thrusting into him for your pleasure.

“F..fuck pup. You’re driving me mad with- with that damn... mmm those ears.. f-f..uck,” he had never been so foggy.

It had to have been the outfit. Your naked body was beautiful but that’s all he’d ever fucked. He’d never fucked you decorated in all this cute stuff. God, it got him so close. He was just throbbing from the impending euphoria. Then he heard you whimper and it was all over. Your sounds got louder and louder, filling his ears with your pleasure. You placed both hands against his own, pressing your wetness further against his cock. It drove him over the edge and he gasped as a load shot out of his swollen tip. Ryomen had never cum that way, continuing to rub your cunt against him to elongate his high.

You bit your lip at the sensation, cumming a few moments later from seeing your boyfriend lose control. Even though, as he came down from his high, he felt sticky and gross, Ryomen wouldn’t have changed a thing. Seeing you in that pretty outfit grind against him made him so hot and bothered beyond belief. It was better than any penetration he could’ve asked for.

“I love you,” he whispered, pushing you down beside him. You nodded and fell forward against the bed, mumbling your own I love you as well. Ryomen Sukuna kicked off his now very soggy shorts and underwear, opting for a commando-style dress, taking off his shirt as well. You glanced at him and yawned as he sat down next to you, beginning to undo your outfit. “Ryomen…?” You mumbled in a bit of confusion.

“Let me do this, brat- er… my love,” he wasn’t very good at these sorts of pet names unless he was about to cum, it was clear. You were undressed in a few moments and pressed against your boyfriend's chest. He knew you liked this sort of thing. Aftercare? Ryomen wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but he knew it was important.

Making you happy was the most important thing in the world to him.

[dollivication]

oh dollyyyy

How do u think the dmc + leon (or js one, or an additional carlos if you're feeling spicy) would behave if their darling was hyperfeminine

bc i just KNOW Dante would be feral if ur makeup was almost always done, wearing pretty clean clothes and having a bow in ur hair more often than not

cwacked my knuckles 4 this 1 this specific ask made my pupils dilate sow…. MWAH thnak yew for asking this teehee :3 part 1!!!

nsfw for dante and slight nsfw 4 nero…. gulp….

DANTE SPARDA!

.he would be ALL for a hyperfeminine darling. encourages it even! he’d probably even ask trish to take you out shopping so you can come back looking flashier than ever >:3 whatever makes his baby happy!

.and you’re so right about that!!! he’s aware that you don’t really do it for him, but the monkey brain inside his head tends to tell him that it is. you just look so pretty with your makeup all done, surely you had him in mind while adjusting into your cute little outfits?

.he’s SUPER touchy, so if you really care about your clean appearance, stay away from dante. he WILL start to play with any ribbons he sees, be it on your hair or clothing—often causing them to undo and god knows that this idiot has no fucking clue how to re-tie them. rushes off before you can even say a word to him. ugh..

.and he just can’t help being dirty to you when you look like a living doll! :( yucky thoughts FUEL him. he’ll see a pattern in your clothing; cutesy, pastel, pink… and he will immediately think about if your panties are matching the whole thing you’ve got going on outside.

.he’ll try sneaking his hands under the dresses and skirts you wear, try and flip the fabric up to confirm his suspicions. even if you’re whining loudly about how gross he’s being, all that he can think about are your adorable frilly panties!!! i fear he would try to fuck you in whatever you’re wearing… (＞人＜;)

VERGIL SPARDA!

.i don’t think he would care much! it’s not his business how you choose to dress, and if that’s how you express yourself, who is he to judge? plus, you look damn well good while doing it, he’s not gonna stop you even if the whole thing is a bit foreign to him.

.vergil hasn’t really seen anyone dress like you do, but it’s a very pleasant change of pace for him. a darling who doesn’t conform to the typical lower-toned fashion? he can get behind that! especially because it brings his beloved dove joy.

.once in a blue moon, he’ll tell you that he likes the outfit you picked out that day. it reminds him of a tulip. and of course, if you’re experiencing any trouble in picking something out or struggling to get dressed up, vergil is at your side in the blink of an eye, ready to help you with whatever it is you need.

.need a ribbon tied? he’ll do his best for you. need something zipped up? he’s your guy!! don’t know if you should pick the long sleeve or the short sleeve? well, both look good on you, but it’s out hot and the short sleeve is definitely a favorite—and you can wear the former another day.

.i do think that he’d be far more gentle with a hyperfeminine darling than a darling who isn’t. theres a certain tranquility from seeing you so content and unashamed while donning the prettiest little dress, he would probably handle you carefully—to ruin your outfits would be to ruin your glee, and that is the last thing vergil wants. so he treats you and your belongings like fine china <3

NERO SPARDA!

.MESMERIZED!!! nero thinks you look like a literal fucking angel. he’s practically a puppy, eager to see how you’ll look the next day. and even if your closet is limited in options? that doesn’t matter! he’s still going to dote on you, kissing your forehead to be mindful of your makeup while rambling about how cute you are!!! each morning is a welcomed surprise :3

.it’s funny because he’ll be showing you off, but gets pissy when other people actually look at you. especially men!! he can understand a woman or kid staring, because you’re literally a sweet dream walking, but other guys??? na. but then nero looks at you again and realizes this fine babe is dating him, not them! it feeds his pride lols keep doing what you’re doing!!

.whenever he can, he’ll buy you a little plush that fits your style! anything remotely light pink or white automatically makes him think of you. its a bit of a problem… but hey, at least he’s got you and your tastes on the mind 24/7 !!!

.if you ever try to give him oral while wearing your outfits, he’s quick to refuse no matter how much you insist that it’s fine. he knows how much your clothes can cost, and how much you put hard work into your appearance that he doesn’t wanna fuck it up! lest he cums and stains the fabric on accident :(

.if by any chance, you do manage to convince him, and his worst fears do happen—nero will spend just about ALL of his savings to spoil you because he feels guilty LMFAO.. he’ll definitely give you a solid few bucks to go crazy the next time you guys go shopping, muttering about how he wanted to make things up to you. but it’s not all that bad, because now you can show off with more cute clothes and fluster him!! >.<

V SPARDA!

.he’s curious about your taste in fashion! not in a judgy way, no, but he’s actually intrigued by you! very fascinated at how you can capture an almost innocent side of being feminine using a certain arrangement of mere accessories and clothing. you’re always pleasant to look at, so don’t be surprised if you catch him stealing a few glances your way teehee!! all in all, he earnestly respects the grind and isn’t afraid to express it.

.the whole dynamic between you guys is just so comical.. especially because you two are polar opposites in the way you present yourselves. i do think that after V took his current clothes from that one thug, he developed a little taste in gothic-esque fashion, so you both will be getting a few stares in public together!

.hes,, unemployed,, i fear… so he cannot buy anything for you as he would have liked to—but i do think he would maybe ask griffon to fetch (steal) him a few strands of ribbon for you, and that goes for jewelry! pearl necklaces, lace chokers… just about everything else that you express interest in. he’ll probably keep doing it even if you tell him he doesn’t need to.

.you are NOT safe from hardcore compliments. v straight up glazes you in a way that like.. makes you feel vulnerable? he describes you in such a heartfelt manner using his poetry, all while basking in the sight of you. truly, you remind him of a lamb. carefree and joyful, and a symbol of purity. it’s very strange but in a nice way…

.does not take kindly to rude remarks directed at you! the way he sees it, all you’re doing is living a life that’s comfortable for you, and it’s not hurting anyone! he really doesn’t get why some people feel the need to look at you like you’re some kind of freak-show. if he sees that the harsh opinions of others visibly dampens your mood or get insecure, he’ll be quick to assure you that your fashion is nothing to be ashamed of—because it really isn’t. you’re a piece of art, not only to him, but all around.

[braxlrose]

Hello! I really like your writing and I was wondering if I could request a bill x reader? It's where reader had a very rough childhood, with parents and stuff so they dont have a really good picture of love and gets confused about little nice things Bill does for them, like comforting and just being a good boyfriend, and can sometimes be like emotionally unavailable? But they really try with Bill and, yeah! Lmao, you don't have to do this and feel free to ignore!

omggg you're literally one of my favorite writers and I love this request because I really like writing angst bc there's so much emotion so ty <3

Also this is not proof read

cw: mentions of abuse (physical and verbal), angst, tell me if I missed anything pls!

Growing up was hard for you. Your father was barely ever around and when he was, he was completely hammered. You tried to stay away from him when he was like that, but it was hard considering you lived in the same house and he was always getting fired from jobs. Whenever you angered him, he'd take off his belt and beat you until you were sobbing. Then would pass out on the couch and act like nothing was wrong when he woke up.

On the other hand, your mother just never seemed to be happy with you. Always nit-picking on everything you did, the way you looked, the way you did your hair, your style, the way you talked, you were either too skinny or too fat; you just couldn't do anything right in her eyes.

You always tried your best to make them happy, just having the smallest glimmer of hope that they'd be proud of you for something. All your hard work at school or everything you did for your community. All the diets you went on for your mother. Cleaning up after your father. There was just nothing you could do.

You didn't understand why they were like this. Why did they have a child in the first place if all you did was "ruin their lives". You didn't understand love at all. Your mother said that she only does this because she cares about you, but if she cared wouldn't she want you to be yourself? No, of course not. You're either like her, or nothing. And that was that.

***

Then you moved to Magdeburg, Germany. Your mother was sick of her old apartment and your father was banned from all the alcohol stores in your town, so you had to move. Again. This wasn't the first time. You've moved 4 times in the past year because of your parents, you haven't lived anywhere long enough to make any friends.

You had moved into a small village and your mother was making you go over to the neighbour's for dinner. Your father was passed out somewhere so it was just you and her. She put your hair in a high ponytail and added "cute little pink bows". She always pulled too hard on your hair when she did it. You weren't allowed to leave the house unless you put on the pink, frilly dress she got you. You had to be "perfect" and "lady-like" or else no one would like you.

You slipped on your shoes and got pushed out the door by your mother. She had also plastered your face in makeup. Mascara, eyeshadow, lipgloss, all of that. You were fifteen years old for God sakes, why did she care so much?!

"You better not make me look bad in front of our new neighbour's, got it? I don't need your running your mouth like always." You nodded your head as she smacked the back of it, making you flinch before knocking on the door. You heard footsteps coming quickly to the door before a blonde woman opened up. A smile crept onto her face as she saw us.

(Its changing from third person to first person now!)

"Oh come in! Come in!" She said to us with a big smile on her face, ushering us in. My mother pushed me into the house, with a smile. The woman in front of us leaned down and waved, "Hi! You must be y/n! It's so nice to meet you!" I froze. What was I supposed to say? What if she got mad at my tone? What if I said something wrong? What if- I looked up as my mother nudged me on the arm, glaring into my eyes. don't be rude. she didn't even have to say anything for me to understand.

"Nice to meet you too!" I said to her, trying to smile but it just ended looking uncomfortable and awkward. She stood back up to her normal height and turned around, waving us towards the living room.

"Boys! Come down here to meet our new neighbours!" The woman shouted up the stairs as me and my mother sat down on the couch. She swatted my arm again.

"Stand up straight. Your going to make me look like a bad mother!" She whispered to me, giving me that icy cold glare she can never seem to get rid of whenever she looks at me.

Just then, two boys came stumbling down the stairs. They were obviously twins but looked very different from eachother. I turned my body back around when I heard then coming into the living room. I straightened out my back and looked at them with wide eyes.

"Woah, a girl." The mophead whispered. Tch, mophead. That's what he looked like. His dreads were all over the place.

"This is Mrs. y/l/n and y/n. They moved here today. Why don't you boys show y/n around the house?" They both nodded and smiled at me. This is where it all began. My friendship with Tom and Bill Kaulitz. It's been about 4 months since then and we all became good friends really quickly.

***

Me and Bill were walking through the park while tom was out doing God-knows-what. It was December already, so it had gotten really cold. We walked on some trails before Bill stopped us.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as he bent down on his feet.

"Tying your boots. You're gonna trip on them." My eyes widened as he leaned down. I'm just a fucking idiot I didn't even notice my shoelaces were untied. Who the fuck doesn't know that? Why didn't I realize? Am I actually that stupid? I could hear my mother's voice pounding in my head.

"Oh no! You don't have to do that, it's fine really! I'm just stupid, it's f-" he covered my mouth as he got it.

"Relax, I'm already done and I don't mind. Wouldn't want my favorite neighbour to fall face first into snow." He laughed and kept walking. Why'd he do that? He should've just told me to do it on my own, right? I don't need anybody to do anything for me. He should've just left it alone! What the fuck is wrong with hi-

"Hey are you thirsty?" What? What was he saying? I looked over at him when he stopped. We were back in town now, I hadn't even noticed.

"Hello?" He waved his hand in front of my face.

"Uhm..what?" I asked with a blank expression on my face. What was he saying? Why was he even asking me instead of just telling me? Isn't that easier?

"I said are you thirsty? There's a place just down the road that sells the best hot chocolate, you'll love it!" He said, grabbing my hand to bring me down the road. He wanted to get me hot chocolate?

"I don't have any money, Bill." He looked back at me and laughed.

"I'm buying, dummy. Why would I offer you something and then make you buy it? I'm not that awful." He joked, keeping my hand firmly in his. What. He wants to buy me something?

"You don't need to do that bill. I don't want to be a burden-" I sputtered out, not wanting him to do something he'd regret before he interrupted me.

"Burden?! You?" He stopped walking again and pulled me closer. Our faces were only a couple inches apart now and my hands were in his. "Y/n, you're my girlfriend. If I wanna buy my girlfriend a hot chocolate I'm gonna buy my girlfriend a hot chocolate, 'kay?" I was stunned. I don't understand why he's like this. He's too nice, people are gonna take advantage of that. Nevertheless, I nodded and walked down to where they were selling hot chocolate. Bill made sure to put extra marshmallows on mine. Why was he treating me like this?

We arrived back at his house and he pulled me down onto his bed with him.

"Jesus christ! Your hands are freezing, why didn't you say something." My hands? I guess they're cold. I hadn't noticed. Maybe they had gone numb half way through and that's why. Why did Bill care, they'd warm back up with time.

"It's no big deal Bill, I'll survive.." his eyes went wide like I had two heads.

"Are you insane?! No way!" He grabbed my hands and pulled me closer to him. He rubbed his hands onto mine and wrapped mine tightly in his. "Can't have your fingers falling off. I need someone's hand to hold." I smiled at me and wrapped the blanket around me. I laid my head down on his pillow and closed my eyes. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to have a perfect boyfriend who gets me hot chocolate or warms up my hands for me. I don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. She was back again. She's always there. My mother sitting in the back of my head like there's a throne waiting there for her. Why were her words stuck in me like glue. I'm sick of her constantly belittling me like I'm nothing. But I am. I am nothing. Nothing at all. Just a useless soul that needed to fill an empty body and nothing mor-

"Y/n! Wake up! Are you okay?" Huh..? What was happening? I turned my head and looked outside. It was pitch black out. Had I fallen asleep? I turned back to bill and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. He had shaken me awake from my slumber. "Are. You. Okay?" He asked again, "you were mumbling and crying in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?" I was crying? My finger tips reached up towards my cheeks. They were wet. I guess I was crying.

"I'm fine, bill. It was nothing." I mumbled and laid back down. His mouth was slightly agape as he crawled closer to me and engulfed me into a hug. He laid kisses all over my face. Why? Why does he care?

"You're not fine, and it's okay to be not fine! Just tell me what's wrong and let me help you!" He said to me as both of his hands caressed my cheeks. Help..me? Like I'm some charity case that needs fixing? I didn't need to be fixed. Yeah maybe I'm not perfect to my mother and maybe I have some fucked up issues but I don't need to be fixed. What the fuck was his problem?! Doesn't he understand I'm perfectly fucking fine!

"I said, I'm fine!" I shouted at him, shoving bill away from me and pushing myself off the bed. I'm perfectly fine and I don't need him telling me what's wrong with me. His head hit the wall by his bed and I could hear a crack. I broke his wall. I don't care. That's his fault. He should've backed off.

I heard him calling out my name along with a couple cries in between. I pulled on my shoes and stormed out the door. I don't need him or anybody or anything! I don't need him treating me like I'm some child who can't control her emotions!

That was 2 weeks ago. I hadn't spoken or even looked at him in two weeks. What was wrong with me? I hurt the only boy who's ever loved me. He probably hates me now. I'm the worst girlfriend in the entire world. Im the stupidest person. You're the most dumb, ugly, disgusting daughter who has ever been seen on this earth.

she's back.

I'm fucked up in the head and I don't know how to fix it. I want to blame my mother and father but it's not their fault, right? They care about me. It's my fault I'm like this. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I have no one to blame but myself...right?

I was stuck sitting down in a chair while my mother poured goopy foundation onto my skin. We had to go to some classy town thing and I had to actually "look like a girl".

"Maybe if you were naturally beautiful I wouldn't have to waste my time doing this."

"Sorry mama..it's not my fault though..." She glared down at me and smacked the back of my head.

"You're lucky you have foundation on or I would've smacked the shit out of this disgusting face." She gritted between her teeth. Her words were like an awful, greasy poison dripping from her tongue. I hadn't done anything and some how I had made her mad again.

She shoved me into a long, cream colored dress and turned on the ignition. I leaned my head against the side of the door as we drove. Why couldn't I just be the normal, beautiful daughter my mother wanted? If there was a God, he had some serious explaining to do.

"Stop slouching! You think I want a daughter with bad posture?! My god! Can't you do anything right?" The speech. I've heard it a million times since I learned how to talk. How I can't do anything right and I'm just some failure who should've been aborted fifteen years ago. How I ruined my mother's life and how she was going to be a star if it wasn't for me.

It was a long car ride but we finally got there. And the event was even worse. There were so many people and the music was way to loud. I felt like crying. My hands were shaking and I couldn't stop picking at my nails. Women kept coming up and taking to me with their children. Friends of my mothers. I could guess by their judging stares. I looked lady-like and had good posture and was smiling. Why was I being judged, what am I doing wrong again? Why can't I just be normal? A normal girl who doesn't fuck everything up. Doesn't make her parents hate her. Doesn't ruin her parents lives. Doesn't make people feel awkward. Doesn't hurt their boyfriends.

And that was my breaking point. Tears flooded down my cheeks and everybody was staring at me. I stumbled away into another room and sobbed on the floor. I couldn't breathe. My hands hurt from picking at my nails and my face hurt and my body hurt and my eyes were burning and my makeup was surely ruined.

Everything is. I always ruin everything. What the fuck is wrong with me?! The one person who truly cared about me...i..I haven't- I hiccups against the wall and bawled my eyes out. The one person who truly, actually cared about me...I haven't talked to him in two weeks. Then I caught my breath. I stood up and wobbled to the nearest window. I pulled myself out of it and stumbled outside. My whole body hurt so I probably ooked crazy. I could feel mascara was running down my cheeks as I walked through the town.

My arms were freezing cold and I still felt like everybody was watching me. Their beady and judgy eyes staring me down like I was about to go crazy. Well, I guess technically they were right. I just started sobbing in front of everybody so I probably did look insane. You looked insane! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Can't you just act like a girl for once!? That's what my mother said me to in the 3rd grade after a play we did..

I finally got back to my house and looked up to the neighbour's house. Bills house. The light was on in his bedroom. He was awake. I turned back to my door and took a deep breath. I had to say something to him. Right? I had to make him believe I wasn't some crazy person who would push everybody away. Maybe that's what I was though..

I knocked on the door but nobody answered, so I stepped into their house. It was completely dark as I stumbled up the stairs to bills room. I looked at all the happy family pictures they had. God they were so lucky. So lucky to have a perfect family. A father and mother who love them. Having a twin must be great, it's like having a bestfriend for life, right?

As I stepped up the stairs I heard the door open. Bill must've heard me coming up. When he slowly looked around the corner I saw his eyes widen at my awful state. I guess I should've cleaned myself up first, I look a mess. My dress was torn from crawling out the window and my makeup was obviously smeared. I bet my hair wasn't too pretty either.

"Holy shit, y/n?!" He came down the stairs quickly and grabbed my arms, helping me up the stairs, "what happened?! You look...awful."

He sat me down on his bed and I didn't know what to say. I just stared at him. This perfect guy who loves me. I tried to open my mouth and say something but nothing came out. I guess he could tell I wasn't sure what to say because he went to the bathroom and grabbed some wipes.

"Here.." he kneeled down and began to wipe my makeup off. Tears slipped past my waterline as he comforted me. He just sat there looking up at me with a pity smile on his face as he cleaned me up. He took of my hands in his other hand and held it. He really was perfect. He saw him grab some lotion off his desk and rub it around my face after he wiped everything off.

"Come on, why don't we get you into some comfortable clothes okay?" I nodded at him and toyed with my fingers as he picked out some clothes.

I was laying in his arms now. His fingers were combing though my hair as I laid on his chest. I wasn't sure why he was doing this. Any sane person would've just kicked me out, right? I held onto bill tighter whenever he kissed my head and my cheeks. I cuddled up closer to him and nuzzled into his neck.

"I love you, y/n.." bill whispered as I dosed off into my sleep, breathing in his comforting scent and letting tears fall on his skin because he was the only person who was able to make me feel at home.

OKAY THIS TOOK ME LIKE 2 HOURS AND IT ALMOST GOT DELETED BUT THANK GOD IT DIDNT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!

the end felt kinda rushed but I hope it was still good

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam

[askinkiskarma]

Masterpiece

dbf!Jake Sully x (f)Metkayina!Reader

Wc: 2.4k words

Synopsis: Jake Sully comes to settle among the Metkayina and quickly becomes your dad’s best friend… and your biggest nightmare and desire, all wrapped in one smirking, annoying, irresistible package.

Warnings: smut with minimal plot (p in v, fingering, slight degradation kink, slight praise kink, mean!jake, overstimulation, edging, creampie, daddy kink, pet names, age gap)

A/N: i need it besties, i need it bad. also thank you to my bestie @karma-is-a-cat-purringinmylap for the continuous amazing music recoms. enjoy x

“My love’s got a super sweet taste and a wicked mean face and it makes me go ah!

My love’s got a super sick mind, oh, it’s sicker than mine, and it makes me go ah!”

Jake Sully.

Jake Sully changed everything the second he arrived in your village, the second he became one of your dad’s confidants, one of his best friends. The second you laid your eyes on him, a man more than twice your age, and you knew you were doomed. Because he was the most beautiful, the most enticing, the most dangerous man you have ever met. He came by your tent all the time, spent so much time with your dad, you began to find it suspicious, in time. You noticed him. You studied him. Soon enough, you picked up things that other didn’t seem to, that only you seemed to be privy to. Like the way his eyes glimmered with a hint of sickness in them, a tinge of depravity that you knew all too well, that you noticed in him because you recognised it in yourself. Or the way his tail had a few distinct patterns of movement, and the one he displayed, consciously or subconsciously, you weren’t sure, when he was around you was entirely different than any other one that he had around anybody else. Or his scent, how musky and woody it was, and how intense it got when he was in your tent - maybe because that was the only time you were in tight quarters together, so it was the only time it was not diluted by everyone else’s scent. Or how he addressed you - always with a smirk, a smile that could make even the most stoic of people drop their inhibitions… and their loincloths. Kid. Doll. Girl. So many things, minuscule to most, but unforsakable to you.

“It is decided. Jake will teach you how to work a bow and arrow. With everything happening with the Sky People, we need every advantage we can muster. We need to be strong, ma ‘ite. I need to know you’re safe. Jake can keep you safe, I am sure of it.”

“Oh, trust me, I will do my very best to make sure she is ready.” How did your dad not notice it? The way he spoke, like there was always another meaning, a hidden message behind his every word. The way it curled and undulated, the way it left his sinful mouth that was always stretched in a smirk, devilish and unholy. The way you were so damp at the promise of his words, you were scared to death everyone in the clan would be able to smell you. You could smell it. And looking at Jake eyeing you up and down, lingering stares on your lower abdomen, his smirk increasing in size and his gaze in its intensity, you knew he could, too.

And you knew he wouldn’t just let it go.

You were in the woods one day, a small break from practice as you lay on a rock, in a frilly loincloth and beaded top that barely covered your perky breasts and hard nipples.

“Does anybody buy it?” His head tilted to a sidw with a quirk of his brow and an inquisitive smile plastered all over his face. It would be innocent enough, his question, if it wasn’t for the intensity of his eyes that stared you down, like they were undressing you as he spoke.

“Does anybody buy what?” You spat, a little more forceful than you intended. His attitude was driving you crazy. He was intoxicating your every sense, his presence, his very being crawling into your skin and making a home of it, and you didn’t know if you were powerful enough to drive him out. You didn’t know if you wanted to drive him out.

“Your little good girl act. I mean they seem like they do, all of them, the whole clan bright eyed and bushy tailed when you walk past. All of them enamoured by you, or by who you’re pretending to be. Don’t get me wrong, kid. You do a good job. It could almost get me fooled. But then I see your eyes, that just for a second drop the act and your real self, your real thoughts are reflected in them, I see your face contorting in anger, or frustration.” His hand trails up your thigh and you shudder under him. “In ache, and desire.” His hand moves to your inner thigh, inching upwards until he makes contact with your loincloth, that much like most other days recently, was damp. “I can smell you. Smell your needy cunt, smell how much it wants me. So tell me, how do you do it?”

You let out a breath you felt like you’ve been keeping for too long, maybe your whole life. This man was depraved, and wrong, and a heathen, and for the first time in your life, you felt understood. You felt seen. Like you could finally do what you’ve always wanted to, but was scared no one would be able to withstand. Like you could finally let someone have his way with you, the way you’ve always wanted to.

You turned around to face him, angling your face to be able to look into his eyes, those predatory eyes. He was so tall, so powerful, and you wanted him. And you would have him, if it was the last thing you'd do.

“I don’t know, I assume the same way you do it.”

He raised an eyebrow yet again, eyeing down your body until his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed. You gasped and clenched your thighs together.

“You like to talk back, don’t you? We’ll have to see about that.”

He unwrapped your tewng skillfully and groaned slightly as he took in your dripping cunt, the slick running down your thighs.

“What would your dad say, huh? What do you think he’d say if he heard about what I’m going to do to his precious daughter? To his… innocent baby girl?”

You let out a small moan and shut your eyes tightly as the anticipation was already wearing you out. His fingers flicker over your folds, thumb finding your clit and circling it, putting pressure on it as he sinks two digits into you, stretching you out.

“What would he say if he found out that his daughter’s a little slut? Huh? That she’s dripping wet before I even touched her, that she’s moaning with my hand around her neck? That she’ll be moaning with my cock stuffed down her throat later?”

Not that there was any doubt in your mind, but this man knew how to fuck. It was clear by how he was fingering you, how he was able to locate your g-spot almost immediately, how he knew exactly where to put pressure and how much of it, how to release his grip on your throat at the exact time needed to maximise the pleasure that felt too intense to bear even before you even got the chance to cum.

You had no answer to his questions, you had no thoughts in your mind other than the feral primal need of him deep in you, so deep you hoped you’d finally fill a hole you’ve felt has been empty in you for too long to even remember when it started.

He continued pumping his long digits in and out of you skillfully, until you were so wet, his ministrations were creating unattractive squelching noises that he sneered at, increasing his pace, drowning them out with the sounds of your pained mewls.

“Cunt so wet for me, doll. Can’t wait to fuck you til you’re dripping in cum. D’you think your dad will finally notice then?”

“I need t-to…”

You could hear the stupid smirk in his voice as he spoke.

“Use your words, kid. What d’you need?”

“Cum, fuck!”

He curls his fingers in you, hitting that spongy part of you that needed it most, and then pulled out, leaving you a panting mess.

“Oh, you need to cum? Shoulda thought of that when you gave me attitude earlier, kid.”

You felt like crying, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You had a hunch this wasn’t the first or only time this man would make you cry, and the later you started, the better. The feeling though, ecstasy bordering on pain, was weaking your resolve by the second, and soon enough, the emptiness you felt was hurting you.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me… daddy.”

You watched as Jake’s expression darkened, a growl spilling out past his parted lips, his canines in full view now, sharp and deadly, and you throbbed in need when you thought about them sinking into you, marking you, making you his.

“You want daddy to fuck you, kid? You want daddy’s cock in you?”

You nodded vigorously, tears prickling painfully at your eyes, and out of pity or his own twisted needs, he undid his loincloth in one sweep motion, and allowed you your first look at him, in all his impressive, thick glory. He was a sight to behold and you felt the need to swallow, and the need to tell him to fuck your mouth until his cum coated your throat.

He takes you by the underside of your arms and lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your thigs around his thin waist, pulling him as tightly on you as you can, cunt flush against his abs. You throw your head back when your back slams against the trunk of a massive tree, and the pain feels so much like pleasure you’re close to release again, mindlessly grinding on him.

He takes your jaw in his hand and forcefully brings your face into view.

“Cut that shit out, d’you hear me, kid? You’ll already be limping by the time i’m done with you, you want to be limping and not even come?”

“Just fuck me, daddy, please! I need it s’bad!”

His cock prods at your sopping entrance, twitching wildly against your folds at your words.

“Goddamn, girl, you really are a slut. So eager to get fucked dumb, you’re like my dream come true, aren’t you?”

“Can’t wait to fuck this dirty mouth one day.”

“Yes, daddy, yes! Can’t… can’t wait either, daddy!”

He laughs mockingly at your desperate tone, and fills you up in one thrust, hard and ruthless, giving you no time to adjust to the enourmous length or girth, that was stretching you almost painfully, curving slightly against the resistance of your cervix, forming a bulge in your lower abdomen that you stared in awe at.

Jake lets out a guttural moan as he bottoms out in you, balls pressed against your folds. His eyes are shut tightly and his head slouched forward to rest in between your breasts.

“Fuck, kid, you’re so fucking tight I feel like I could just cum in this pretty pussy right now.”

He reaches a hand to your lower abdomen and presses on the little bump, and you whimper as the sensation overload makes you convulse on his dick, your thighs weakening aroud his waist.

“Feel how deep my cock is in you?”

“Mmm-hm, ah! Yes, d-daddy.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, girl, your cunt’s gonna stretch to my cock, you’re going to be made for me. My toy.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks, and the other in between his fingers, twisting and squeezing.

“Your toy, daddy.”

His cock starts moving in and out of you, slow at first whilst he’s still teasing you, still denying you the pace and intensity you need to cum.

“Are ya gonna call me daddy in front of your dad, too, kid? What would he think if the name just slips past your lips? Don’t think he’d like his adoptive daughter behaving like that, what d’you think?”

“D-don’t care! You c-can both be my daddies! Argh, fuck!”

He lets out a big laugh and slams into your cunt aggressively, knocking the air from your lungs.

“You like it, don’t you? Like playing with fire, like the little slut you are. I betcha wouldn’t even mind getting caught with your dad’s best friend’s cock deep in your cunt, huh?”

You shake your head, feeling the tears on your lips and their salty taste as your tongue swipes over them. You cry out in pain when he slams into you over and over, sacaddic thrusts that have no way of getting you off, only enhancing the feeling of despair you feel bubbling into you at being denied so many orgasms.

“I’m not letting you cum ‘til you admit it, girl.”

“Fuck, fine! I wouldn’t mind, I want them to catch us, I want everyone to know!”

You feel exhausted, but you still manage a loud burst of moans when he finally starts picking up his pace, holding you down by your throat as he ruts upwards into you, making you see white all around you as the world fades from view and is replaced with just a glow that spreads and increases in intensity and you feel the pressure in your core building once more, enough to make you cry out wildly.

“Yes! Yes, feels so good, daddy! You’re fucking me so well, daddy.”

“I know, kid, I can feel your tight pussy squeezing me. You want to come on my cock, girl? Come for me so I can fill this cunt with my load, huh? D’you want that, doll? Want my cum deep in you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, daddy!”

The orgasm washes over you like that one wave you got caught under as a child and could not escape, so powerful and all-consuming, you felt yourself trembling on him and he spills his seed into you, warm and sticky as it falls down your thighs, as he fucks it back into you, over and over, making sure it stays there, making sure it’s imprinted in your walls, just like his presence was imprinted in your mind.

“You did so well, doll. Maybe next time your two daddies can take turns fucking you, huh? Would you like Tonowari’s cock filling this pussy up while I fuck this pretty mouth?”

Well, your life might never be the same again, but it was definitely never going to be boring around Jake Sully.

Now, am I sick enough to make a dbf!jake x reader x stepdad!tonowari ??? Maybe 😉 if besties want it?

taglist: @fanboyluvr

[thedeviltohisangel]

The Road To A Beautiful Nowhere: You're Lonely In This City

a/n: I cannot believe the first part of this hit so hard in so little time! Especially because I went way less traditional on it and just leeched prose all of the tumblr bot. Thank you all immensely for loving it the way you have. This iteration is a bit more fic-y and I've named the lady in his life we met the previous time around and not sure where they are going but I am here to play around with them if you all have any little ideas or requests. This beautiful man deserves all the words written about him and thank you babes for supporting me in my journey to do so!

She doesn’t know where she was supposed to tell her parents she was going. Her jeans and dirty Keds and suede jacket not really presenting an easy excuse. If she was going to the store with friends or headed to the library to study, she would be in a frilly dress and kitten heels. Her hair would be curled and wrapped in a bow. But she couldn’t wear a dress on the back of Benny’s bike. Didn’t want to go through the effort of doing her hair just for the wind to muss it up. 

They were going to hear his bike rumbling down the road. Certainly her father was going to stare at him out the window in the hope he would break. There was no use in trying to hide who she was spending the afternoon with. Maybe even the entire night if the beer at the picnic gave her enough courage. 

The house vibrated slightly to announce his arrival. The feeling spread like joy through her bones but the wisps of dread from downstairs were fighting to make their way up to her. Delilah adjusted the clip keeping half of her hair back before squaring her shoulders and take the steps to the front door as quickly as possible. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” her mother asked from where she was knitting in the corner. 

“Benny invited me out.” Delilah paused with her hand on the front doorknob. 

“You’ll be back by 10?” There went her plans to spend the night. 

“Yes.” The quicker she agreed, the less likely she would have to face her father. The quicker she agreed, the quicker she could be in the safe haven of Benny.

Her wrist flexed back and forth as it waited for the command to turn the knob and lead her out into the sunshine. She was begging for them to just say okay. To just say yes and let her go. Not drag this out any longer. It was embarrassing enough being around Benny with the incessant blush to her cheeks and white knuckle grip on him everywhere they went. Bad enough he was legally banned from the campus of Northwestern. Had to stand outside her favorite bookstore while she perused. So many facets of their life that fought against each other instead of working together. She hated that her family dynamic was just one more obstacle for them to overcome. 

“Not a minute later.” That was her father who had deigned to speak. His words were presented flat but she knew the cold and biting meaning that was resting right behind them. Ready to snap should she misbehave. 

“Yes. I promise.” 

“Then you may go.” Delilah opened the door before either of them could change their minds and cleared the front steps in one leap before she was across the pavement, her nose landing in the spot of his neck that smelled like motor oil and cigarettes and the essence of the Stop Light. 

“I missed you, Dumpling,” he murmured into her hair, stroking his hand down the back of her head before pressing a kiss to the top of her ear.

“I missed you, too. But I’m here now. I’m all yours until ten o’clock.” Benny groaned as he held her waist steady while she swung her leg over the back of his bike. 

“That’s not nearly enough time for all the things I had planned.” His leg kicked down hard to start the bike and her heart fluttered perfectly in tune with it. Like a lion’s roar. She would never get tired of watching him spur the mechanical beast to life. Spur her own heart to life right there inside her chest.

“I guess you’ll just have to see me again,” she teased as her cheek rested against his back and he began to steer them in the direction of where the club was meeting for the day. 

“Dumpling, some day you’re gonna see me so much you’ll be sick of me.” Delilah hummed her disagreement into his colors, her lips pressed to the skull as if it was the soft skin of his forehead instead. 

How could she ever be sick of this feeling? The feeling of his bike hurtling them towards the sun like Apollo’s arrow. The feeling of everything she had ever known disappearing into a speck on the horizon. The walls that she always felt caving in, breaking open in a sea of shattered memories and haunted dreams and gates she hadn’t known she’d built around herself. 

He squeezed her hand that was around his waist as if he could hear her thoughts. It was a quick pulse of his fingers but told her he knew. Told her that he didn’t need words in order to understand. Told her he would ride like this until they reached the edge of the earth if that is what would make her happy. 

Some mornings, she thought about asking him to do just that.

----

“Delilah, tell me again what you’re studying?” She smiled as Cal settled on the ground by her feet, the smoke of his cigarette curling around his fingers and drifting into her nose. 

“I’m studying to be a nurse, Cal,” she spoke politely. He nodded his head around the sip of beer he took.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right. Real fucking cool.” She hid her giggle behind her palm and leaned further into the solid man to her right. 

“How many times do you think I’ll tell him I’m going to be a nurse before the night is over?” She’d already had the conversation with him twice, this made three. Benny peered around her to look at the taller blonde. 

“At least three more.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the fire they were sitting around and pulled her hand out of the pocket of her jacket. “Let’s go for a walk.” 

“Okay.” She walked in the direction he was bringing her, the whistles of the group they were leaving only earning them a finger from Benny. “You know, right now it looks like you are leading me to a secluded corner of the woods to be my undoing.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he threw over his shoulder. Delilah blushed and quickened her pace so they were side by side. 

“Is that your attempt at being romantic?” she teased. 

“What girl doesn’t want a boy to lead her somewhere quiet where she can fall apart without an audience?” 

“Benny, the way you are turning my joke about murder into a lovely sentiment is quite something.” He laughed and lifted his arm for her to twirl underneath. “I would have brought a dress to wear if I had known we’d be dancing.”

“I like those little things,” Benny muttered as he ducked under a branch. 

“I can’t really straddle a bike in them without being wholly improper.” 

“Maybe we could get you some chaps or something to wear underneath. Get you on my bike and in your little dress.” The thought alone made him twitch between his legs. 

“Have you been thinking about this, Mr. Cross? Fantasizing, even?” 

“I’ve been thinking about this even more.” He squeezed her hand impossibly tight as she stepped into the meadow and looked up at the night sky. They were far enough from the beating heart of Chicago to see more stars than she’d ever imagined even existed. They glittering across the ink black expanse and Delilah swore they were whispering a song in the wind. “You like it?”

“Benny, how…how did you find this place?”

“Every once in a while at these things, I just need a moment to myself. Found it while I was wandering around a couple of weeks back.” He had thought she would like it from the moment he had found it. Had agonized over when would be the right time to show it to her. Had maybe let a little bit of doubt creep in that made him sheepish in presenting it.

“Come sit with me. I want to look at them for a minute.” She smiled and giggled to herself as she walked a few paces into the meadow and sat down, her leg stretching in front of her. Delilah contentedly looked up at the sky as Benny sank down next to her, a fresh cigarette in between his lips. 

“Makes you stop and think for a minute, doesn’t it?” he breathed as they enjoyed the scent of the smoke mixing with the night air and the comfortable silence. 

“I think all the time about a life outside of Chicago. One where stars are out like this without having to look for it.” One where she wasn’t afraid to step inside her own home. One where she was allowed to be loud and make mistakes and love whoever she wished to without fear of the repercussions. One where Benny could be right alongside her on this wild ride. 

“That sounds nice,” he replied simply. Delilah tugged her knees against her chest. It was foolish to dream of a life like that with Benny. The Vandals meant too much to him. He would never leave the club. That much was always clear as day. 

“I have to finish school first, of course, but after that…” He bristled only slightly at her notion that there was a definitive timeline to her presence with him. That she would be handed a piece of paper one day and then be nothing more than a whisper in the wind. “We could go somewhere together, Benny.” Her words were so soft they were almost a whisper. Her cheek resting on the top of her knee as she turned to look at him. 

“I can’t leave the club.” There was no room to interpret his words any differently than how he meant them. There was black and there was white. No shades of gray. 

“Right. Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Delilah found her fingers more interesting than the stars as the answer settled on her shoulders. The sustainability of what was between them, approaching love rapidly but screeching like tires on the freeway at inopportune times, might be a question a less naive girl and boy would ask themselves. 

“Dumpling-”

“No, Benny, I’m not upset. You’re being honest. How could I be upset?” It was something she thought about often. If she should push harder to put a name to the feeling in her chest when she was around him. If she should figure out a way to exist in that space, trading a life away from her parents for a life with Benny. Delilah would never ask him to choose her or the club. Her or riding. Her or anything. She wanted to be his choice without having to ask him to make one. That was the only version of a relationship she would accept. Not after the one between her parents she was forced to be a witness of her entire life. 

“I should get you back home soon.” Benny didn’t like upsetting her. Didn’t like when the fire went out between her eyes. It was so rare he was the cause of it extinguishing but it ached in a way he couldn’t put into words when he did. He stood and offered her a hand, the other flicking his cigarette to the dirt before he twisted the bottom of his boot on top of it. “We can come back here another night. When we have more time.” She nodded as she brushed some dirt off of her pants. 

“When we have more time,” she echoed. He kissed her forehead and led her back in the direction they came. Delilah couldn’t help but think, the entire walk back, that it would’ve been nice to keep walking across that meadow. Take the risk to see what was waiting on the other side. Forward and forward until they blended into the darkness. Gone to a place where things were new. Scars were healed and the thread of fate started spinning over again. 

Delilah could picture her own string of yarn waiting on the other side of that meadow. Golden and strong and untouched by the horrors this life had wrought upon her. There was room for another. Another that smelled like gasoline and cigarettes and endless summer. Durable as the denim he wore every day. 

She just needed him to see it.