#plus size shapewear

[mabelsguidetolife]

hey ladies can we stop with the shapewear

[sarahshrinks]

no bc kim k kinda pops off in the shapewear department

[ace-and-ranty]

I know the fashion industry is a Lie(TM), but I wonder how fat models ALSO always look way cuter in everything than regular fat people. Is it shapewear? Are they shapewear-ed to hell and back?

[dirt-foundd]

Shapewear for plus size men???

Please tumblr I need help. Is there any kind of shapewear for plus size men? I need it for fantasy fashion clothes purposes. One of my characters is a very large man and I am unfortunately a very small twink who only understands women's fashion (which is why I'm so prone to add shapewear like corsets and whatnot).

if anyone here knows anything about men's clothes and like- any shapewear. Could be a corset, a compression shirt, anything. Or if you know anything about men's fashion in general, it would help a lot.

I want to keep my son the way he is, I'd really like to avoid changing his design.

[boeklv]

Plus Size Leggings at Boek LV

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[mavshack1205]

The Ultimate Guide to Dressing for Your Body Shape

Fashion trends are ever evolving and meeting all the fashion standards is a vicious cycle. Even if you have the latest collection in your wardrobe, it does not guarantee a flattering look. This is primarily because the products are marketed as universal, however, the appearance of a piece of clothing is highly determined by your body shape. Thus, when shopping from a top online shopping site for women's clothing in India, be mindful of the cuts of the clothing, to make sure you dress to slay. Read along the blog to know more about the various ways to dress according to your body shape.

What to Wear According to Your Body Shape

Apple Body Shape (Oval Shape)

The apple body is characterized by a heavier upper body in comparison to your lower part. The shape features broad shoulders and a bigger bust line, gathering weight around the midriff. Now, as most of the weight gathers above the hips, the mid-riff appears heavier than the remaining body with a minimal waistline. Thus, wearing dresses with V, deep V, plunge V, and sweetheart necklines creates the illusion of an elongated torso. Use accessories to draw attention close to the face or legs.

A-line or empire cuts are ideal for apple body shape. Wear printed dresses or patterned jackets that add a layer to shift the focus. Monochrome looks, dark colors, full or 3/4th sleeve dresses, and flowy tops will also help. For the bottoms choose flared options such as palazzos, to create a balance. Also, go for bottoms with higher waistlines as this will give a more balanced and elongated look. Make sure that the pieces sit well on the right curves, so go for a bit of tailoring if required.  The hourglass shape is good and can rock any look, but wearing a loose and oversized look would not be the right choice, as they will conceal the most desired curves.  

Pear Body Shape (Triangle Shape)

The shape is distinguished by a well-defined lower body, with the butt and thighs visually bigger than the upper body. People with this body shape have comparatively narrower shoulders. The best part of this body type is that the right styling can help you create the illusion of an hourglass figure. You can also try body shaper for women, to get the hourglass figure with much ease.

Wide-legged pants, A-line skirts, or dresses with patterned or ruffled tops are great for creating a balanced look. The wide pants would draw attention away from the wide lower body and the ruffled tops would add up to the width of the upper body.  Skinny jeans with loose tops help create an hourglass illusion. Crop tops, sweetheart, V or deep-V, padded jackets and tops, and scoop, or boat necks will balance the bottom. Avoid skin-fitting tops, halter necklines, and loose bottoms as these would accentuate the pear shape.

Banana Body Shape (Rectangle Shape)

The rectangle-shaped body is usually well-balanced from the shoulders to the hips.  The arms and legs are the assets for the people with rectangle-shaped bodies. The body is like the hourglass figure minus the defined waistline. So, the dressing is all the more similar for both body shapes.

The best pieces of clothing for body shape include A-line skirts and ruffled and layered tops. The ideal cuts include sleeveless, strapless, and sweetheart lines. Blazers, long jackets, and capes can be used to add much-needed drama to the overall look. However, avoid wearing overarching dresses, as they would look very consuming and might not look great.  

Inverted Triangle Body Shape

People with this body shape have an athletic-looking body with shoulders much broader than the hips. Thus, the key to dressing for this style is the enhancement of the arms and shoulders as much as possible. Also, wear clothes that add definition to your hips, giving you a more balanced look.

Straight-cut jeans and dresses naturally have an inverted V-look and thus would be the best for your body type. You can also add volume to your lower body using voluminous fabrics, light colors, details, and prints. You can also try pencil-cut skirts, skinny jeans, and other pieces of the kind to rock the look. Always avoid much layering to the upper body. V-neck lines work well and create an illusion of narrow shoulders, so these can be used to gain a more proportionate look.

Visit Trendy Online Shopping Sites in India Now

So, now that you know how to dress for your body shape, visit an affordable online shopping site in India, and restock your wardrobe. Mavshack liveshopping is one such lowest-price online shopping site in India. It offers women's fashion, men's fashion, and kids' essentials. It is also the best online shopping site in India for accessories. You can also shop for body shapers for women, to look your best in ethnic wear. The platform offers the best shapewear for plus size as well.  It offers durable products at attractive discounts. So, do not wait and visit Mavshack liveshopping now.

[iambydollyjain]

Plus Size Saree Shapewear

Introducing the ultimate solution for effortless elegance and comfort - Plus Size Saree Shapewear, available at I AM! Crafted with precision to celebrate every curve, our plus size saree shapewear is designed to enhance your confidence while adorning traditional attire.Crafted from Cotton Lycra, it offers impeccable support and a flattering silhouette, ensuring a seamless fit under your favorite sarees. Embrace your curves with grace and style, and let our Plus Size Saree Shapewear be your trusted companion for every occasion. Check out the entire collection of plus size saree shapewear in various colors and patterns at https://www.iamstore.in/categories/shop-now

[thehappyfeminist-22]

Can we get someone besides people who are ALREADY SKINNY to model shapewear, please? I want to see what this stuff looks like on someone who has my body type before I buy it!

[captain039]

PART 4 He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, m violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

Previous part <-

My mind is just horny for Hugh Jackman it’s bad xD

The next day you wait till around dinner time to head to the bar, you put on a fancy dress and some low heels, throw on some makeup and sigh. You stare at your reflection poking your stomach, hips and waist, you had put on one of those slender shapewear things too. You rolled your eyes opened the bathroom door a little harshly and grabbed your small purse.

“Let’s go” you grumbled hating this plan already.

“Actually, no, why the hell am I here?” You turn making Logan almost run into you.

“Never been on a mission before?” He asks.

“No?” You say frowning and he falters.

“You’ve been itching to get out the school” he says.

“How do you know that?” You ask, you’d only just gone to speak with Jean about it when you walked in on them both in her lab.

“Because-“ he growls a little pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Stay here” he says moving out the way.

“No, you said to come, so I will go” his lips curls up showing the two fangs he has.

“Omega” he grumbles as you walk out the motel door and to the car.

You had thrown on some perfume to go over your dulled scent, like hell you could flirt your way into a secret fighting ring. Better off getting your ass caught and thrown in there. You stare out the window till you arrive. When you enter you already hate it, your whole body tenses and you feel eyes. You forced Logan to wait at least ten minutes before coming in. You sit in a small booth finding yourself ready to flee and your hands overly hot. Logan walks in, cigar in his mouth, leather jacket over his shoulders. You take a small breath as he heads over to the bar. You didn’t look at him properly when you left the motel, jeans, plain white shirt and a leather brown jacket with boots. He orders so naturally and you wish you took the keys for yourself. You know he’s appealing, the few other women in the bar getting an eye full. You don’t blame them but the heat dancing on your palm says otherwise.

“Can I get ya something doll?” A older woman asks.

“Just a smoothie?” You ask and she smiles and nods. It was a bar cross restaurant you think from the dining tables to one side with the register and small display of foods and the bar and pool table on the other side. Logan starts talking around, grabs a pool cue and joins the game. You were truely going to hell for your thoughts as he bent over the table and striked the ball. The waitress comes with your juice and you thank her. You relax a bit, nobody’s on this side of the restaurant, the smoothie is nice and cold too though your head feels a little funny. You look out the window to the dusty car park figuring Logan could handle majority of this mission. You sigh a bit glancing back to Logan seeing a brunette woman by his side. She’s gorgeous, slim waist and body, nice sized boobs and ass, the dress complimenting her every curve and just the right amount of makeup on her face. She’s faking not knowing how to play, or she genuinely doesn’t know how to play as Logan shows her. He doesn’t do the whole get behind her thing and lean with her though, which makes her disappointed even if she gets one of the pool balls in the shoot.

Logan hates himself, he hadn’t realised you had never been on a mission and Charles sure as hell didn’t ask you and him to go. It was supposed to be Jean and him, but when you walked in shoulders tense and looking ready to burst again he decided you and him needed to get out. You’re quiet the whole ride, awkwardly trying to act normal as he forces himself not to smile at it. You don’t know how to act around him, he doesn’t blame you, he’s always been a cold hard bastard. When you have a shower he stares at the door wondering if you’d let him join you, he wants to fell your body so bad, feel those thighs around his head, sink his teeth into your flesh while you moan his name. He’s worked up even more now he swears, you’re too shy and kind for someone like him. Once the shower stops he sighs a little missing his opportunity, he frowns though when you take a long time in there and your anxiety peeks. It’s like he’s in tune with you and he gets up and knocks. Your response has him on edge and opening the door without permission. Seeing you in a towel, flushed and fresh out the shower has his dick hardening. Fuck he wants to smell you, breathe in that sweet scent he knows you have. He sees the syringes in the counter though and his face turns hard. It looks like something Hank cooked up which probably means it’s for your mutation. He gets snappy for no reason and growls when he does leaving you confused. He smokes even though it does nothing before going back inside and seeing you already tucked in your bed. He slides his shirt off and kicks off his shoes before he’s in bed too.

He lays awake, one hand above his head one resting on his chest, he hears you whimper a few times and frowns before you start to mumble panicked and your scent spikes. He’s up quickly and sitting on the edge of your bed, your over heating, he sees small flames dance on your face as it squints. He shakes you gently and you’re up quickly hands out. You burn his chest and he hisses. He hates how you instantly worry and sadden tears in your eyes. He heals easily though, he’d get burnt a thousand times if it meant to be this close. He curses your scent blocker, wants to set it on fire and throw the ashes far away from your reach. He wants to lean forward feel your lips against his, feel your heated body against his.

Watching you now sip whatever the hell that was in your cup and look outside a little calmed in that perfect black dress. He forgot breathing was a thing till his lungs demanded air. Your hips looked so grabable, the way your hair sat was perfect. You were safer over there than here while he talked and tried to gather information. A beta woman came up to him though, flirted with big brown eyes and innocence. He played along for a bit hoping to gather information, but he doubted she’d know, she wasn’t a mutant, nor did she smell like anything related to violence. He showed her how to shoot properly and she lost interest thankfully. He looked back to you, your eyes hard on the woman and pride swelled up in him. He saw small flickers of flame along your skin as you caught his eyes and looked away with red cheeks. He walks over, he doesn’t think anyone here has information. Slides in the booth while you frown a little still blushing.

“Come play” he cocks his head a small smirk on his lip’s and you choke a little on your drink.

“No thank you, I’m happy here with my smoothie, pretty sure the blonde wants a go” you gesture vaguely to the other side.

“Come on” he’s teasing, seeing if you’ll break as his nose flares a little catching something sweet that isn’t your perfume.

“Fine” you sigh.

This was a bad idea, agreeing to whatever evil plan the alpha conspired. You hate the looks the women give and think about going back.

“Logan-“ you say hesitantly but he’s already grabbed two pool cues and set up the table.

“Do you know how to play?” He asks.

“Vaguely, whoever shoots first, if they get a high or low in that’s their numbers, first one to get all there numbers in and then the eight wins” you shrug and see him with a small look of awe on his face.

“You shoot” he cocks his head to the table as stands casually.

“I’m not good at this” you grumble. You lean down and aim, hitting the ball harshly, too harshly, it ends up bouncing and you wish the earth would swallow you up.

“Too much force” Logan says.

“You go first” you get embarrassed and hurry away feeling your head spin a little again.

“Hey” the alpha holds your arm and you jolt a bit. You gulp a little feeling like everyone’s watching you with hatred that this handsome alpha is focused on you.

“Logan-“ you sigh looking to his face. He’s got some puppy dog look going on and you almost choke again. You take a small breath a small frown on your face, you could pick up more of his scent now.

“Just- you go first” you say quietly and he nods. He rearranges the balls and hits them easily, a high going in first.

“Guess I’m highs” he’s says and you nod going around the table. You lean down a little thankful this dress is below knee high. You aim a bit till Logan’s voice makes you jump.

“You won’t hit there” he says and you huff turning to him a small smile playing at his lips. He walks to you and your heart rate picks up as he slides his body easily around yours. Your cheeks flush instantly and realise he’s going to really show you how to shoot. Your mind kicks into override and you scramble out of his hold breathing quickly and he frowns.

“This was a bad idea, keys? Keys where’s the keys” you say rushed body hot as he hands you the keys. You rush outside letting the cool air calm your body and small flames flickering on your arms. You feel like crying and curse softly as you hang your head.

“You ok there doll face?” You frown looking to your left seeing an alpha leaning against the wall smoking.

“Yes, sorry” you say shuffling away a bit as you catch his scent with a small frown. Why was everyone’s scents stronger? You think back to last night body going ridged as you remember in your hastiness to put the serum away you forgot your anti-heat and scent blockers. Panic rises up in you, sure you’ve forgotten them before at the safety of the school where you had access to your room and a locked door.

“Logan” you mumble needing to get inside till the alpha nearby blocks it. You frown not use to this kind of treatment as he a smirk plays at his face. He looks ok you guess, bear a little messy, teeth a bit too yellow for your liking. You feel your hands shake and feel the heat of your flames along your skin.

“Sir I need to get back to my alpha” you lie and he glances to your neck scoffing.

“What alpha?” He leans closer as you back away, but he follows.

“This one” Logan growls behind him, pulling the man away from you and punching him. The man’s knocked out instantly and you take a small shaky breath.

“You ok?” He asks a frown on his face as you shake your head. Gods his scent, it flares with worry as he comes closer nose flaring, eyes narrowing.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t take-“ you take a small breath hugging your body, flames dancing across your arms.

“Hey, hey it’s ok” Logan comes closer large hands on your heated skin.

“You barged in and I panicked with the serum I forgot to take them” you feel tears in your eyes, you feel stupid. Logan has a frown on his face but he tugs you to him, arms going around your shoulders, a hand cradling your head. You shudder forced to breathe him in a small noise leaving your throat. You can’t help your arms going around him and nuzzling closed, wanting his scent all over you. You feel something prick your neck then and jolt.

“Logan” you slur as your body goes limp.

Next part ->

Taglist:

@beanhardy

[prolix-yuy]

A Gift of Light and Joy

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader "Conejita" (Plus Sized Reader)

Summary: Javi wants to spoil you, but his good intentions put you in a difficult position.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), cumming on someone, minor cum play, negative body image, toxic shopping culture, some angst, Javi is clueless about women's clothes shopping but he makes up for it.

Notes: Happiest of happy birthdays to my darling, my sweet friend, the indescribable @ezrasbirdie! I was planning to post this around November but I couldn't pass up a chance to give you a fun little Javi present. I am so lucky to know you and get to yell about stories together!

While in the two previous stories Conejita wasn't described as plus sized, I always headcanoned that she was from the start. There are a couple references to the previous stories, but you can also dive in right here! Like most stories this is me working through a few bad experiences of my own, and while Javi may be a little thick in the beginning he will get to make up for it.

Cross-posted on AO3

Continued from On the Right Flight and A Bearable Weight

“I have a surprise for today.”

Javi’s gleeful face ramps up your own excitement as he ushers you into his car. 

“I thought we were going to have a picnic?” you ask as he flops into the drivers seat, curls bouncing almost as much as he is.

“That was my distraction,” he says, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it. Your heart still flutters, even months after that first one at the stroke of midnight. 

Dating Javi had, of course, been just as much of a step off the deep end as you thought. Even being close by now that you’re back in LA for work and he’s hobnobbing with the Hollywood elites, some days getting dinner feels like making a doctor’s appointment. Matching schedules down to the half hour, groaning when something comes up. But it’s all worth it when the stars align and he’s on your doorstep with all-encompassing hugs and breathless kisses. 

At first Javi’s dates were low-key and low-stress - a day at the beach, movie nights of course - but as you got closer and closer he started to take you places that had dress codes and extravagant names. He always beamed like you were the only one in the room, but you’d been in enough spaces you didn’t belong to feel eyes and judgements skitter across your back. 

You could be poised, and knowledgeable, conversational and charming, but nothing changed how you looked. Javi was always dripping in Armani, Burberry, Brioni. Your paltry wardrobe didn’t stand a chance. Every new art show or movie premiere sent you running to a department store to find a new dress (pretty girls on their rich boyfriend’s arm didn’t reuse eveningwear) and inevitably you’d be pinched or poked or squeezed into something not made for you. Long minutes spent in the bathroom wondering if Javi would notice the bra strap divot in your shoulder, or the dark lines of seams pressed along your skin. Pretending you enjoyed slipping into a silk robe every time you spent the night was more palatable than the embarrassment of wriggling out of shapewear in front of him, or refusing to let him undress you in case a zipper pulled too tightly. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t hide your discomfort as well as you imagined. Sometimes you caught Javi’s concerned look when the built-in corset made you squirm in your seat, or when you winced at the chafe of your heels. 

So when he parks his car on Rodeo Drive he’s the picture of pride and sunshine. You, on the other hand, leave your stomach on the sidewalk behind you.

“I wanted to do something special,” he’s saying, muffled words bubbling up as your feet trudge to a gleaming glass door. There’s security inside, sales people scattered around holding hangers up to discerning buyers. “And before you say anything about money, I don’t want you to look at a single price tag.” Javi turns your face to him with a gentle nudge, breaking your doom stare through the glass. “I want to spoil you a little. You never let me spoil you.” His pout brings a little smile to your face, dipping in to kiss him. 

“We can do anything Javi. I don’t need things,” you try to deflect, hoping you can convince him away from the inevitable rejection you’ll receive inside. 

“Just one time?” he asks again, soft brown eyes imploring you. How could you say no? 

“Okay,” you breathe out, steeling yourself for the worst as Javi beams back at you.

“I thought this place would match what you like,” he says as two suited doormen guide you inside. It flutters your heart. He’s right, you’ve always liked this designer’s silhouettes and styles. It’s exactly what you’d choose…if you were several sizes smaller.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” a small-framed woman with black plastic glasses and a bouncy ponytail asks. She’s dressed head to toe in the designer’s current collection, sleek black throughout with stylish red earrings that dangle down her neck. Her smile isn’t as cold as you might expect. You’d heard horror stories of snide sales people practically insulting clients to get them to spend more. 

“Yes, Gutierrez,” Javi offers smoothly, placing a grounding hand on your lower back. “For my girlfriend.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He doesn’t get the chance to say it often, but when he does you love the way girlfriend rolls off his supple lips.

“Ah, yes, miss…” the sales woman begins, letting you offer your name. You catch a fleeting look of concern cross her face. Her cheek sucks in like she’s chewing on it, smile still bright but eyes more cautious.

“My name is Melanie, if you’d like to follow me to your consultation space,” she says, leading you and Javi to a curtained-off partition with several chairs, a changing room and a pedestal that makes your stomach flip. 

“So what are you here to find today?” Melanie asks. Javi settles in a chair, spreading his knees and leaning back so sexily you can almost forgive him for the anxiety pumping through your veins. 

“Whatever my Conejita desires,” he says, and you’re torn between smacking or straddling him. Melanie turns her attention to you and you wrack your brain.

“I guess…a dress would be nice?” you say. Javi reaches out to squeeze your hand reassuringly, adoration so clear in his eyes. He truly has no idea it’s the most likely to have ease in the sizing. You might make it out with one and blame it on not wanting to overspend. Javi would get his wish, and you would make it out with most of your ego unscathed. Win-win.

Melanie leads you out of the space and into the clothing racks. The choices are sparse, a few items hung per rack in an exclusivity motif. As soon as you’re out of earshot she starts chatting.

“Your boyfriend is very sweet to be treating you today.”

You hum and nod, chewing the inside of your lip. Some of the pieces are very pretty, flattering cuts and classic shapes, but none of the silhouettes look large enough for you. 

“Does he…do this often?” Melanie asks carefully, and when you look at her you see an understanding that soothes you ever so slightly.

“First time.”

“A surprise.”

“Yeah, pretty big one.”

Melanie smiles at that, arms wrapped around an iPad. Her nails are very pretty tapping against the device.

“Let’s take a look back here,” she says, leading you off the main floor and further into the store. The racks are fuller back here, but not nearly enough to make you think success is within reach. Your chest tightens, but you put on a cheery smile when Melanie turns back to you.

“Men are just…so thick sometimes,” she sighs, and the sharp change makes you bleat out a laugh. “I’m sure Mr. Gutierrez has the best intentions in mind…”

You nod and finish her sentence.

“...but you don’t have anything here for me.” Her hands clutch at the tablet again, going white around the knuckles.

“We might have a few things, but they’ll be simpler. Not like the current collection.”

“Simple is fine,” you rush to say, her smile making your own come to the surface. 

“Okay, let me go digging. I think we can make it work. I’m…” She pauses to clear her throat, lowering her voice. “I’m sorry this isn’t fun. I hate it. I just want everyone to feel happy in their clothes, not…left out.”

You turn your comfort to her, squeezing her shoulder.

“I appreciate you trying to help.”

Melanie scurries off to the backroom, leaving you on the bustling floor with ten other women who could slip into anything off the rack no problem. Weaving aimlessly, you peruse the dresses. Each one holds promise, which only makes it more disappointing when the tag numbers run too small. But you’re keeping positive, searching for Melanie’s bouncing ponytail returning with anything. You’d gush over a mumu. 

“Excuse me,” comes over your shoulder, and you turn to another sales woman hovering expectantly behind you. Her brow is lifted high, barely waiting for you to shift before tugging a garment off the rack. She turns quickly, but in the split second before you see it. That stomach-dropping look that screams good luck slathered in sarcasm. Your throat clenches, hands coming to your middle and you wish you could just collapse into yourself like a dying star. 

“Fuck this,” you whisper, tears shining in your eyes as you hurry back to the consultation space. You’ll tell Javi you have a headache, that you’re too hungry to shop right now, anything to convince him to get the hell out of here. 

“Cone…” he says as you burst in, snatching up your purse and steeling your voice. The sunshiney excitement trades quickly for concern. “What is wrong? I promise the cost…” 

“Actually, I don’t really…I don’t…” You try to get out your white lies with an even tone but when Javi cups your face in his large hands your composure crumples. A fat tear breaks rank and rolls down your face, Javi’s eyes widening with shock.

“Conejita, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” His eyes darken a fraction. “Did someone say something to you?”

Your heart skips a beat, which you blearily file for later introspection. Resting your head on his shoulder, he envelops you in his arms. Orange peel and musk surrounds you, Javi’s soothing hands traveling up and down your spine. When your breaths stop warbling you pull back, wiping your face.

“I’m sorry…” you start to say, but Javi moves you to sit. He drops to a kneel, clasping your hands in your lap.

“No, Conejita, you are not apologizing for one second. What has upset you? Was it someone out there?” When you shake your head, his eyes soften. “Was it me?”

“Oh Javi,” you sign, squeezing his hands. Your lashes are still wet with tears, but you can see his dread so clearly. “I really appreciate this, all of it. I’m sure it’s flattered lots of people before. But I’m…me.” You release a big breath, the pain of keeping all your anxieties in finally easing. “I can’t shop at places like this, Javi, I don’t…they don’t make clothes like this for people my size.” 

Javi’s concern smashes into confusion.

“But they must have seamstresses in the back. They take your measurements, no? Find an acceptable piece and tailor it?”

The laugh you bark out is watery but it does raise the corners of your lips.

“Men have it so easy,” you bemoan. “I think the closest size I saw was still in the single digits. And even then, the numbers rarely mean anything.” Javi’s confusion only deepens.

“But how do you know what to buy? Surely the measurements are the same. Inseam, waist, sleeve length, how can it be so different?”

“Javi, I’m rarely the same size at the same store.”

Javi sputters. “That’s madness. How does anyone put up with that?” 

You giggle lightly, the tears finally receding. “I just go to the department stores. More variety, more sizes. No pushy sales people. Though Melanie is really nice.”

“But you are still uncomfortable,” he says, stroking his thick thumbs along the back of your hands. “I did not want to say anything, but I noticed. You do not seem to feel good in the nice things you wear.” 

You shrug. “It’s not perfect, it’s just…easier.”

His eyes implore up at you. “I wanted you to feel good with me.” Your heart patters, Javi’s face falling. “But I have made it worse. Please forgive me, Conejita, I truly did not know this would be so painful.”

You pat Javi’s cheek and give him a quick kiss. “I know, Javi. I know you didn’t mean for it to be.” A tap on his nose makes him smile. “But next time, when the lady doth protest too much, maybe listen?” Javi’s cheeks pink as he nods.

“Shakespeare has always been wiser than me,” he jokes as he helps you back to your feet. He leads you back to the front of the store with one hand on your back, and for a few seconds you do feel like the most beautiful person in the room. Women looking at you in awe, Javi’s fingers pressing in a way that’s subtly possessive. You could be lady Godiva riding a Shetland pony and not feel a lick of shame when he looks at you like that.

“Mr Gutierrez!” Melanie calls as she hurries up to the front to intercept. Her hands are empty, which is a relief.

“Thank you for your help, I just don’t think there’s anything for me here,” you say in a practiced tone that makes Javi pull you closer and Melanie’s eyebrows knit in the middle. She nods, extending a folded piece of paper to Javi. 

“I’m sorry they didn’t have something for you today,” she says, and Javi takes the proffered paper. He leads you out of the store and into the fresh sunlight of the street. Unfolding it, he raises an eyebrow then secrets it away in his jacket pocket.

“What was that about?” you ask, tucking your arm into his elbow. He shakes his head.

“Nothing important. What is important is going to get some lunch, then we are going driving with the top down and dinner at my place after.” 

“Javi…” you say with a little warning, but he tuts at you as his long stride pulls you down Rodeo drive.

“I know, I know what you will say, but bear with me because I am learning how to love you the right way. Today was not so good, but I would like to try and make it better.” He slows down when he catches your wide eyes and dazed smile. “What? What have I said now?”

“That you love…” the last words disappear on the wind as Javi’s smile crinkles his eyes.

“Of course, Conejita. Dios mio, of course I love…I love you,” he rushes out, barely able to finish before crashing his lips into yours. Wide palm cupping your head, you couldn’t care less that you’re making pedestrians part around you. Javi loves you, even if he’s a little clumsy about it. But when someone wants to learn to love you the right way…how can you not love every atom of them back?

The following weekend finds you in one of the lesser-used rooms in Javi’s house, sitting on a chair by the window. He deposited you there with a cappuccino and a promise to wait, so now you’re doing just that. Javi does love surprises, but you never expected Melanie to walk in the door.

“Oh my god, hi,” you manage to get out, standing up to shake her hand but are treated to a tight hug instead. She looks brighter, lighter than the last time you saw her, black ensemble traded for a pale blue button-up and floral patterned pants. 

“Javi told me it was a surprise, and I want it on the record that after this one he’s not allowed any more!” You sit across the little cafe table from her with visible confusion.

“I am a bit…lost…as to the surprise,” you giggle out nervously, which has Melanie opening a smart black bag and taking out folios and fabric swatches.

“I’ve been trying to get my stylist business off the ground and…” She pauses for a moment before making genuine eye contact. “And if there’s anything I was meant to do, it’s find people clothes that make them happy. So I offered him my services and he’s…well, he’s been very generous.”

Pride swells in your chest. So Javi.

“So what we’re going to do today is figure out what you like, don’t like, colors, styles, and then I’ll start building your wardrobe. Sound good?” Melanie’s smile is contagious.

“Sounds amazing.”

You don’t quite understand every step of the process. At one point she drapes color swatches on your chest like a bib and you can’t help but giggle. But it’s fun, maybe for the first time you can remember. She writes down that you hate side-seam zippers and skirts cut above the knee. That you love color but not too garish. And when you catch Javi pacing outside the glass door to the patio, peeking in anxiously every five minutes, your smile softens. She probably doesn’t write that part down. That’s written on your face. 

You can’t stop twirling in the mirror, inspecting from every angle. You try to scrutinize, but you can’t find a single thing wrong.

It’s perfect.

After the wardrobe cleanout, the basics overhaul, and the lengthy plan Melanie made, she asked a thrilling question. 

“What’s the first piece you’d like me to find?”

“I’ve always wanted a little black dress,” you replied, and her smile almost eclipsed her face.

“I have the perfect one in mind.”

She wasn’t kidding. It’s full and flouncy, smoothing in all the places you normally criticize and accentuates your figure in the best ways. The fabric is sumptuous under your fingers, just the right weight without dreaded sheerness. You can imagine yourself with hair done up, your favorite lipstick, Javi’s hand on your lower back, that possessive glint in his eyes. All of the excitement makes you spin three more times, the room tilting briefly before you catch Javi standing in the doorway.

“Hey!” you call out breathlessly, smoothing the skirt again. “It’s the first thing Melanie’s sent over. I…oh my god, I love it so much.” You turn to look in the mirror again, and in the reflection you see Javi’s mouth parted, eyes dragging over you. His fingers are rubbing together at his sides and…is he clenching them?

“She took everything I said and just found the most perfect dress.” Your thumb catches in the fabric and you spin back around to gasp, “And it has pockets!”

You’ve barely taken your hands out of them when Javi is on you, all greedy mouth and firm hand on the back of your head. His tongue demands on your lips, slipping inside when you gasp for him. Arm banding around your back, he steadily walks you backwards towards the bed. 

“Conejita, mi amor, eres tan hermosa,” he pants, his wandering hand settling on your ass and squeezing. It crackles between your thighs, white-hot arousal at how he holds you. Javi has always been generous in bed, and highly competent, but this is a side of him you haven’t seen. Maybe briefly when he asked you if someone bothered you at that awful boutique store. 

Before you can rationalize anything further he guides your hips down to the bed, teetering on the edge. He quickly drops to his knees and dives his hands under the skirt, sliding one knuckle along the seam of your pussy. 

“Javi…” you squeak out, but his touch leaves to curl around your underwear and yank them down your legs. The rip of a seam makes arousal gush between your legs, spreading them instinctually. He licks his lips before fisting your skirt above your waist and ducking down to taste you for too brief a moment. Your hips buck, teeth nipping at your inner thigh before he lifts up to kneel between your legs. 

“Javi, the dress,” you caution, and with a sweeter smile he shifts his knees to make sure the fabric isn’t trapped between. When his eyes meet yours again he plants a hand by your head and laps between your lips, slow and sensual. The clink of his buckle coming undone aches deep in your core, fisting his button-up across his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, Conejita, I just…cannot control myself when you look so beautiful,” he confesses as his fingers tease at your entrance. A choked whimper ekes out as he opens you up on two, pumping mercilessly into your clenching heat. He swears in Spanish into your neck, and your quiet whines grow to moans when his thick cock begins thrusting into the crease of your hip. His panted breaths start to take on a rumble, then a growl as his fingers match his shallow thrusts. Overwhelmed, you grasp at what words will make him give in.

“Javi, please, oh my god, please fuck me,” you finally manage, rocking your hips with his frantic pace. 

“You’re ready for me?” he husks, your vociferous affirmations drawing his fingers out to leave you achingly empty. He slicks his cock with you, lining up and pressing just the head in before he plants his hands by your head and just…looks at you.

“Dios mio, eres una diosa,” he breathes, all of the sweet man you love. Grabbing around his wrists, you roll your hips down to sink more of him inside. He stretches you so deliciously, filling your cunt and lungs.

“Take it, Javi,” you rasp, head tossed back. “Show me I’m yours.”

Javi bites his lower lip and looks at you with a depth you crave. Infatuation and devotion and a desire so hungry you want to sate him for hours. In a dizzying flick of his wrists he now presses yours into the bed. 

“Mine,” he purrs, and the snap of his hips as he buries himself flush draws a lusty cry from your lips. “My beautiful Conejita,” he grits out, grinding his hips deep to press punishingly into your g-spot. You writhe under him, legs clamped around his waist as he slides out just enough to punch back in. “You are mine, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck, Javi, yes, I’m yours,” you beg, and it’s exactly what he needs to begin fucking you earnestly, scooping his hips to drive deeper and deeper. The friction of his grind strums your clit just right to tremble around him. Pinning you with a rumble, he fucks you into the mattress until his wandering hands can’t stop from palming your breast, rolling your nipple through the fabric. The spike of pleasure urges you to meet him stroke for stroke, riding him just as hard back. He grabs your chin just firmly enough to coax more slick to coat his cock, guiding you back to his demanding mouth. He steals your breath, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and groaning when you shudder around him.

“Not going to last, mi amor,” he whispers, lacing your fingers together as his thrusts lose rhythm. 

“Cum on my pussy,” you plead, and with a strung-out moan he pulls out just quick enough to cover your mound with his hot spend. It drips lewdly, sliding to gather in the crease of your thighs. His eyes are fixated on it, the brand of his lust sticky on you. Your orgasm tips over as he slides his thumb through his cum to press firmly on your clit. His name is all you can manage as pleasure laps over your skin, his touch grounding as he praises you over and over.

In the afterglow, Javi folds the length of your skirt well above the mess he made. 

“I will be sure to send this to drycleaning before you want to wear it,” he says, pulling a juddery giggle from your chest. He stands oh shaky legs and you glimpse his wet cock in the vee of his open pants, realizing you just fucked like college kids so horny for each other they couldn’t even undress properly. It makes you giddy as he brings over tissues to clean up, careful not to leave any of his spend where it could stain. When he’s finally satisfied he drops down on the bed, opening his arms for you to snuggle into. Once fitted together, eyes heavy, he murmurs in your ear.

“It wasn’t the dress.”

You hum sleepily, sitting up to look into his sated face.

“You are most beautiful when you are happy,” he says, the earnestness earning him another sweet kiss.

“I am very, very happy Javi.”

He doesn’t need to tell you that he is. It’s written on his face, and in his heart. 

END

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere

Pairing(s): Lucien X Plus Size Reader, Azriel X Plus Size Reader

Part 1 Summary: Reader is pulled into Prythian by an unknown force and comes face to face with members of the Night Court. However, the welcome is less than warm.

Word Count: 3.9K

Warning(s): Minor violence, minor self-harm, mentions of body issues/past self-harm.

A/N: This is my first ACOTAR fic and first story I've even considered posting since 2013, so please be gentle. The story is fully outlined, but due to the fact that I work full time and really weird hours updates will be once a month. Use of cisfemale descriptors used. Key: (Y/N )-Your Name, (e/c)-eye color, (h/c)-hair color.

You gathered your belongings as you did everyday before heading into work. ‘Phone, wallet, keys, charger, make-up…’ the list in your head prattled on as you secured each item in the black backpack. Once satisfied that you had everything you needed you swung the leaden object over your left shoulder. Pausing before the near full-length mirror at your door you tucked a strand of (h/c) hair behind you ear. Your (e/c) orbs roamed over for anything that could be out of place. It took a considerable amount of effort not to let your gaze pause on the parts of yourself that you hated. You pulled the dark red sweater down, covering your large and sagging lower belly and too wide hips. You debated on going back to put shapewear on so your muffin top didn’t hang over your dark black skinny jeans too much, but you were already running late. You quickly slipped your dress flats on to your feet as you whispered a small affirmation to yourself. ‘Everything happens for a reason.’

You were not looking forward to today. The laundry list of to-do tasks was miles long. Hours of work meetings, followed by even more hours of research and writing for your thesis. You were always writing. You paused again to double check that you had the required USB drive that held your many months’ worth of research. A quick glance reassured it was safely tucked away on the hook in your pack, and you stiffly grasped the handle of the front door. No sooner than pulling the door open, your feet tripped over the lip of the frame, and you plummeted down through the threshold.

Bracing for a faceplant against concrete, you were surprised to find soft grass under your fingertips. The grass was a deep rich shade of green and still held the wetness of early morning-dew. Slowly lifting your head, you glanced around the spot where you fell. You immediately noticed that you were no longer at the threshold of your duplex if the wide expanse of grass was to be trusted. Slower still, you raised yourself up on your knees. The sky you looked at was now clear of the pale grey clouds you spied out of your bedroom window only minutes before. The bright yellow-white sun was high enough above to indicate that it was midday. A chilled and briny breeze floated across your shoulders and caused strands of your hair to blow away from your face. You pushed your glasses a little further up the bridge of your nose as you took in the distant buildings to your left. Not a single one of the simple brick and mortar buildings appeared to be more than 3 to 4 floors in height. Further down you could make out some shops and an open square. It reminded you more of a smaller European town than of a bustling city suburb. Yet the buzz in the air told you that there was much more than what met your eyes. You could only make out a few figures as they darted through a bustling crowd. Despite the feeling that there were a large number of inhabitants in the city beyond, there wasn’t a single sound of a motorized vehicle. Your head tilted up to examine the vast blueness above you, looking for any sign of the planes that constantly passed over your home, but the sky was also empty. You held your breath, willing for the sound of a jet engine to be heard in the distance. All was silent, except for the brush of the wind and bubbling of water. You turned toward your right an observed a large house that sat just along the river’s edge. Your eyes followed the winding path of the turquoise water as it stretched into a decent sized bay, complete with docks and what appeared to be old wooden sailing ships. You felt like you had stepped back in time.

Panic began to seep into your bones. You could clearly tell that you were no longer in your own city, but where you were…that was wholly unknown to you. Was this even real? Maybe you hit your head when you tripped and this is all just some dream. Yeah, that had to be it. You reached for the backpack that had landed at your side when a shadow flew over you. A heavy thud was heard to your right and your head whipped up to look at the dark silhouette that now towered over head. You initially thought there had been the shape of wings along the figure’s outline, but after blinking away the shards of sunlight that your hand didn’t block, you determined that it must have been your imagination.

“Well hello there,” a velvety smooth tenor reached your ears, “You’re not an associate of Ms. Quinlan’s, are you?”

                “W-What?” Your voice trembled, a strong metallic scent radiated from the man as he knelt down. Your breath caught in your throat. He was absolutely stunning. You mentally slapped yourself after feeling your jaw literally drop. You could have sworn his eyes held flecks of starlight in them. However, his humorless chuckle sent a shiver down your spine.

                “Do you know Bryce?” He surveyed you this time.

                “I don’t…I don’t know any Bryce,” You couldn’t help the rise of your flight response start to kick in, “Where am I?” A part of you didn’t dare look away, but you had to gage your possible exits out of the periphery of your vision.  The man continued to stare and evaluate you. You swallowed thickly in an attempt to clear the non-existent obstruction that was your unease and opened your mouth to ask another question. Before you could speak the man cut you off, placing his hands in his pockets.

                “If you’re not here for or because of Bryce,” Something about his darkened expression filled your bones with fear, “then, unfortunately, I’m not in a position to readily trust you. I must protect my people. I hope you understand that my actions are nothing personal.” Confusion laced your features at his words and you clutched your bag tightly against your chest.

Without warning your entire body froze as what felt like ice cold claws scratched against the surface of your skull. Fear gripped you tightly, the need to run or fight back utterly demolished as you locked eyes with the man. He truly didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest over how terrified you were.

‘Mother above…he’s going to kill me.’ Your mind reeled and you were certain that you would have emptied your bladder had you not done so before exiting your home. You couldn’t get your voice to cooperate, to beg for mercy as the claws gripped your skull harder. You couldn’t even scream as you felt the flesh tear near your right temple. Your heart beat erratically, hoping it would give out before you could feel any of the pain that was sure to accompany your death. It took all of your mental strength to dampen the fear down and whisper the prayer you incorporated into your own practice so long ago.

“Mother hold me, let me pass through the gates into that immortal land of milk and honey. Let me fear no evil, feel no pain, and let me enter eternity.” Eyes still locked with the man you saw a glimmer of…you honestly had no clue what emotion it was that passed over his expression. But as soon as it passed the feeling of the claws were gone and air rushed back into your lungs. The man stood to his full height and continue to stare at your gasping form. A rush of nausea swept over you and you heaved. The stomach acid burned your throat more than normal after not eating anything for well over 24 hours.

You spit the remaining mucus onto the grass and you were suddenly hauled up to your feet. His grip on your forearm was so tight you could already feel the bruises forming. While the man’s features appeared calm and unbothered, his eyes simmered with caution. However, he remained silent as darkness converged on you both. Your stomach rolled and plummeted with the sensation of your body in free fall, but the man’s grip never lessened. Suddenly your feet impacted against solid stone. Your vision blurred and your other arm reached out towards anything to purchase itself to keep you up right. Your throat burned again but the stomach acid never reached your mouth. Your outstretched hand finally found a wall and you clung onto it for dear life.

The surface was cool and rough to the touch. You chanced a glance around and found yourself in a small dimly lit room. The walls and floor appeared to have been carved directly out of the stone. The dampness to the air clued you in that you were not inside a building, but some structure more akin to a cave. The room held no furniture, unless you counted the metal sconce that held the only source of light. You did a double take as the light itself was strange, appearing to be condensed to the size of a lightbulb, but it was quickly obvious that there was no material encasing its source. Was there even a- your thoughts were interrupted by the screeching of metal hinges as a single wooden door swung open.

A second man appeared in the entry way and ducked down to avoid hitting his head on the top of the frame. Once he was fully inside the room you couldn’t believe your eyes. You blinked several times yet the insanely large bat like wings never disappeared. You attempted to take in his dark appearance, but shadows seemed to swirl around him. He wore a scaly leather outfit that appeared to be some type of armor. You couldn’t tell if it was multiple pieces or a single body suit in the dim silver light, but that didn’t matter as soon as you saw the first of the seven blue stones intermingled into his outfit. Your eyes widened. The first man handed the newcomer your bag, allowing you to get a good look at his winged back. You immediately noticed there were no straps that held the wings in place. Nor were they attached to the clothing he wore, but rather connected to and protruding from the skin underneath. With this realization the room spun as their soft voices drifted over towards you, but you couldn’t make out what was said as your knees gave out and everything went dark.

When you finally awoke the room was cold, dark, and damp; which sadly reminded you that recent events weren’t just a dream. You found that you were now alone, but weren’t sure if that was a good sign. There was no telling if either of the men-no males- would come back. A part of you hoped that someone would at least give you answers, even if just to tell you that you would rot away in this cell. If that was the case, why didn’t the first male just follow through with killing you? What caused him to stop and bring you to this place you now found yourself? Unsure of what to expect you backed yourself up into a corner on the opposite side from the door. A dim light filtered through the wood panels and space between the door and ground. You could hardly call what you sat upon a floor given all the dirt and rocks. Unfortunately, it did little to comfort you while the room was largely in shadow. Despite your best efforts and desire to make yourself as small as possible, your round and plump frame wouldn’t allow you to curl your knees towards your chest. So, you opted instead to sit with your legs stretched out in front of you, ankles crossed. A false picture of being unperturbed with your current circumstances. The longer you sat there in the silence, the more your anxiety seeped into your muscles. You shook your foot trying to expel the nervous energy. Your ears strained for any semblance for sounds of life beyond the door. Surely there had to be other prisoners or guards. Unless you really were just left for dead. You fought back the tears that welled up in your eyes.

                “This is fucked,” You mumbled, “I’m fucked. What the hell is happening?” You could feel the panic rise up your throat. Your heartbeat increased and your breath became shallow. You ran your fingers through your hair, pulling at the roots. Tiny pin pricks of pain blossomed as the blonde strands became taut. You felt pain, or rather discomfort. You’ve felt that in your extremely vivid dreams before, but it gave you an idea. Moving on to your hands and knees you began to feel around for any rocks or other items you could use. If you could find something and make it sharp enough, maybe you could wake yourself. The door looked the same, but maybe it was different. Maybe you were in a different REM cycle, meaning a different dream that just piggy backed off the first. After all, there was no way to determine if the male that took you was going to come back. ‘This has to be a nightmare.’

“Please, please let there be something,” You crawled through the darkness, eyes straining to make out any shapes. Your hands finally found a smooth stone about the size of your palm. In the darkness you couldn’t tell if it was granite or something else, so you went ahead and bashed the side against the stone of your cell wall. The side of the object splintered off as if the stone was made of glass.

“Obsidian…” You smiled to yourself. The obsidian shard would be sharp enough to draw blood wherever you managed to drag it along your skin.

“Where to cut, where to cut…” You felt along your body, the scars on your covered legs sang with expectation. Were you willing to risk taking off your pants in this place though? Were you willing to take off any of your clothing? Finally deciding against the removal of your clothes you crawled over to the door and lowered your hands to the soft light that filtered through. Pressing the shard against the palm of your left hand you hoped that there would be no feeling as you dragged it against the skin. Oh, how wrong you were.

“Fuck!” A searing pain erupted over your hand as the makeshift blade tore at the skin. You sucked in a breath through your teeth as blood pooled at the seams of the cut. The obsidian hit the ground.

“Why did you do that?” A deep tenor filled the space near the back of your cell and you screamed. The sconce on the wall lit up. Your head whipped around to the opposite corner from where you had been sitting. Your eyes took in the retreating shadows as they revealed the male that you really didn’t want to see. The cobalt stones again caught your eye as your gazed wondered over his form. The wings were still there. You cradled your bleeding hand and you backed away from the known male that stared you down. You figured that you were about to pass out again as the shadows behind him seemed to writhe and undulate around his frame.

“Don’t come any closer,” You tried to keep your voice steady, but you wanted to kick yourself for how pathetic you sounded. The male rolled his eyes and walked towards you before crouching down. His wings stretched out and angled themselves so as to not drag along the stone beneath. The sight of their movement took your breath away. They were real. All of this was real. He grabbed your hand and began to exam it. Your attempts to pull it back failed as his grip was tight. Clicking his tongue against his teeth he locked eyes with you, hazel orbs boring into your own. Despite yourself you noted just how attractive he was as he continued to scrutinize you. He continued to look at you expectantly and you realized that he must have asked you a second question. He sighed and gave you back your hand.

“I’ll be right back,” He stood and left. As soon as the door shut you scrambled to your feet and retreated back to your corner. Had he been in the room with you the entire time? If so, why was the light off? And…you felt pain in your hand. You glanced down at the jagged cut, the blood had yet to start to congeal and clot, but it was superficial at best. Honestly nothing to worry about. You’ve done worse to yourself before. But…you felt pain. Real pain, not just a semblance of a memory of pain as you’ve dreamt of before. This was no dream. Everything pointed to this being a very real place. And you were in very real trouble. Especially if you ended up in-

A soft knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts. Whomever was there didn’t wait for you to respond as they entered. A man-no again male- with long red hair and almost equally red-brown eyes walked into the room. He wore a simple off-white billowy linen shirt that appeared as if it was from the Renaissance or possibly the Victorian era. Honestly, you were really sure. The history of the fashion industry wasn’t your area of expertise.  He also wore a simple pair of dark brown pants. He was definitely different compared to your captor and the winged male. He appeared…warmer. Maybe it was the soft smile that graced his lips. However, his eyes-which you now saw that the left had a long scar that ran down towards his jaw- held a certain sense of sadness to them. Pity.

“Hello,” He held out his hand towards you as he cautiously approached, “Can I take a look at your hand?” He seemed friendly enough, but you still pulled your hand closer toward your chest. You shook your head and backed away, not trusting your voice. The red head looked back at the door, where you saw the winged male patiently waiting.

“She does understand our language correct?” He turned back towards you after receiving an affirming nod from his companion. He took a tentative step closer. You felt like you were being treated like a wild animal.

“Stop!” You hissed, “I’m perfectly fine. You can leave.” The male just stood, his gaze trailing to the blood that dripped down your forearm.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” He stated, “I need to heal your hand. Will you let me do that?” You paused.

“What do you care if it heals?” You squeezed your hand into a protective fist causing blood to gush out faster, “Isn’t it easier to just let me be?”

“Honestly I don’t care,” His demeanor changed like the flick of a switch, “If you don’t want help then that is your choice. My question then is why cut yourself in the first place?” You held his stare. You didn’t want to answer, knowing that it wouldn’t make any sense to the stranger.

“This is going no where Lucien,” the winged male finally re-entered the room, “Just heal her hand so I can begin my questioning.” Lucien scoffed, but did as requested. Grabbing your wrist, he tugged you away from the corner you backed yourself into. You held your breath as he pried your fingers open so he could get a look at the cut. You honestly tried to pull your hand free, but he was clearly much stronger than you. Almost unnaturally so. You were left with nothing to do but to watch. You heard a faint whirring sound, before he hovered his free hand over the injury. A warmth enveloped your open palm and was accompanied by a slight metallic scent to the air. Within seconds your skin had stitched itself back together. All that remained was the trail of drying blood. You stared at the healed skin, mind racing with jumbled thoughts. It didn’t make sense. Nothing in the world could do that. It was like…magic. Your breath caught in your throat. Just where the hell were you. You flicked your gaze back to Lucien standing before you, only this time you noted the golden mechanical eye and the arch of his ears. The pointed arch of his ears. The jumbled thoughts became cloudy and you felt darkness start to descend.

“There,” Lucien let go of her hand, which was something that he would immediately regret. It took less than 30 seconds for her wide (e/c) eyes to flutter shut. He watched as her knees gave out as she crashed towards the ground. His reflexes were fast enough to allow him to catch her before her head hit the hard stone. Azriel was immediately crouching next to him.

“That’s the second time she’s fainted,” He whispered, cursing under his breath. He removed her outer sweater and placed it under her head before standing up to speak to the male beside him. 

“How long has she been down here?” Lucien questioned also rising to his feet. This didn’t sit well with him. The woman was clearly frightened, and there was no absolutely no trace of any lingering magic emanating from her. So why was she being kept beneath the throne room in the Hewn City?

“A few hours,” Azriel explained, “Rhys found her this morning. According to him, she literally just appeared. Much in the same way Bryce did. Fell flat on her face outside their home on the Sidra’s edge.” Her face was pale, honestly, too pale for Lucien’s liking. He knelt down beside her, straightening out her legs so they weren’t tucked under at an odd angle.

“Does Feyre know?” The Shadowsinger remained quiet. Lucien looked up at the male. Azriel couldn’t meet his eyes. That wasn’t a good sign. There was no way that Feyre would be comfortable with having a defenseless and harmless human female locked away. It was unusual for Rhysand to keep things from his mate, not without there being a definitive threat.

“This human has no magic. Absolutely none. She’s completely powerless,” He spat out, “There are no traces of any spells surrounding her either. Whatever brought her here, she had no control over. Its likely she had no knowledge of what was happening either.”

“That’s what I need to find out,” Azriel stated simply. If he was irritated with Lucien’s outburst he didn’t let on. “So now that she’s healed and you’ve completed your assessment, you can leave.” This really didn’t sit well with him. Bryce had been brought right into their family home when she arrived. So, what was it about this human that set the High Lord on such edge that she’d been banished from what would probably be the safest place for a human in Prythian? Lucien really didn’t like what was happening, but knew better than to argue with the Spymaster. If anyone did get answers out of the woman it was going to be him. However, he wouldn’t let this injustice go to the way side. So, without so much as a word to the Shadowsinger, Lucien left the cell. He was determined to have a very stern word with the High Lord.

Part 2

[elliespillowprincess]

i feel like ellie would loveeeeee chubby girls omh

so ellie x plus sized reader hc’s!!!

-fluff

-nsfw (nothing too bad!!)

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

———————————————————————

-ellie loves to lay in your big thighs!!! she’d come home after a long day and just drown in them ughhh saying shit like “missed these pretty legs baby”

-ellie would genuinely get MAD if you tried to wear like shapewear under a tight dress saying “show off that pretty belly mamaaa” AHH

-ellie hatessss when you talk bad about your body. she WORSHIPS it any chance you get

-ellie brings you treats all the time; little cakes and icecream and cookies. if u ever don’t want it bc you wanna lose weight she’ll just kiss your whole body and tell you how much she loves the way you are!!

-ellie loves when you squish her with your legs while she eats you out she wants to DROWN in that pussy.

-ellie loves seeing all the recoil your body has the WAVES that go across your body while she pounds you HELLO?

-ellie is a 100% tits girl. BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW SHE GOES CRAZY FOR ASS TOO?? she’d just be fondling it in public making you feel her strap trying to escape her jeans

-back to the tits thing; ellie would go CRAZY for them. anytime you talk about them not being super perky bc they’re bigger she’d remind you of all the times she’s spent HOURS just sucking on them😣

okay i’m done😋

[twostepstyless]

‘And Guest’

Fic Advent Calendar Day 5

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Author’s Note: Harry and Y/N have to go to a Christmas dinner party with all the rich posh people from the business side of Harry's career. That's if he ever gets ready. Tiny portion sizes should be banned on good food.

Word Count: 2.3k

SFW

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Who organises a Christmas party for a Monday night? Rich, businesspeople who have nowhere to be the next morning, that’s who. The kind of party where the invites are given out to the managers and publicists and decide for you if you were going to attend. Y/N knew what she was getting into being Harry’s other half. That was always how she was going to be seen to that side of Harry’s life. She was always going to be Harry’s other half, Harry’s missus, Harry Styles ‘and guest,’ and not Y/N, but she was fine with it. The people that mattered knew her as her own person plus she always got some form of amusement from these events. The other wives and girlfriends would swoop in on Y/N looking for a tiny crumb of gossip about her life with Harry. She had learned to keep her cards close to her chest with the women who acted like vultures. She had told them at one of the earliest parties she attended with them, that her and Harry had a very happy and active sex life, which turned into a story in the press about Y/N being a nymphomaniac and that’s why Harry was with her. So, she’s sure at the very least, she’ll get a bit of free entertainment from the evening. If they ever make it out the door that is. 

*** 

“Harry, would you move your arse, please,” she pleaded, they had to be out the front door in exactly an hour’s time and Harry had taken it upon himself to clean out his junk drawers in their bedroom, something they had been talking about getting round to for weeks. “I love you and thank you for starting to do that, but can it maybe drop to the bottom on the list of priorities for right now, and maybe getting changed and ready for this bloody party move up to the top, yeah?” Y/N flew past him in a flurry of her silk dressing gown, hair already styled to perfection while trying to ram an earring into her lobe. Leaving a waft of her rich perfume in her wake.

“It doesn’t take me that long t’get ready, m’love,” Harry made no move to change his activities. 

“See y’say that but me n’you have been together long enough now, so I know you need an hour, minimum. Guess what? You’ve got an hour, starting now,” she thrust her bracelet into his hands and held her left wrist out, wordlessly asking him to fasten it on for her. 

“You’re keen tonight, thought y’hated these posh do’s,” his fingers moved deftly, unfastening the minuscule clasp, and gripping her wrist softly, letting the cool metal snake around before snapping the closure into place. 

“I do, I can’t be arsed with it most of the time, but Lambert sent a nice dress t’match with you and I’m half ready now, so we’re going,” she retorted, a slight edge to her voice as she went to brush her teeth in their adjoining bathroom before she applied any lip products. 

“Y’seem a little..”

“Don’t even fucking dare say it,” she warned him, poking her head out the bathroom door as Harry smirked, he was getting some sick enjoyment out of pushing her buttons this evening. 

“Crabby,” he finalised his thought, as they stared each other down. Y/N was quick in her movements, sliding her slipper off before reaching down to grab it and threw it across the room at Harry who stood laughing, hands up to protect his face as the sole of the slipper bounced off his shoulder. 

“Harry, I am wearing the tightest shapewear known to man, do not test me, Styles,” she shot back, a smile of amusement trying it’s best to tug at the corner of her lips. She knew he was winding her up for his own entertainment, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. So, she decided to play her own game and rile him up, just in a different way.

As he kept his gaze on her, she walked from their bathroom until she stood in front of him and tugged the cord of her silk gown until it fell open and she stood in her shapewear in front of him, “I’ll let you peel my shapewear off me later if you get a move on.” Granted, the words peeling, and shapewear being used in the same sentence wasn’t exactly the sexiest line in the world, but Harry was always gone for her. He’d get turned on if she revealed she was wearing a trash bag under her dressing gown, and he was allowed to tear it off. The shapewear had her lifted and cinched in a way that would allow her dress to accentuate her curves and Harry’s knees about hit the floor as he drank in the vision of his girlfriend. “Ugh just imagine, all the lines it’s left on me from squeezing every bit of flesh into a fabric vice for the next 4 hours,” she moaned jokingly as Harry giggled at her. 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, talk dirty to me more,” he snickered pushing the remainder of her robe from her shoulders before turning his back to unzip the garment bag, that contained her dress, that was hanging on the back of their bedroom door. He helped her dress, zipping her in and smoothing out the fabric that cascaded down her body. Finally, after she was ready, Harry decided he better actually get changed before their fun game of teasing ended up in her actually being annoyed with him.

*** 

Shocker, they were running late. Harry had decided he wanted to take a quick shower and that put them back another 10 minutes. Vinnie, their dog, was seeing them off from the front door, they had set him up with some snacks and Smooth Radio playing the oldies for him to relax him as he got left alone for a few hours. 

“Now Vinnie, behave, and don’t open the door for anyone or touch the oven, okay?” Harry asked the golden retriever as Vinnie just wagged his tail in response, before Harry leant down to press a quick kiss to his head, hearing Y/N shout from the open door of the car service parked in their driveway. 

“Get in the car, Harry, he’s not got thumbs he can’t open the door.” 

***

“Mr Styles,” the gentleman on the door said as Harry approached, Y/N’s arm hooked round his. Doormen for a party taking place in a house, pretentious people things, Y/N rolled her eyes. The man looked down at his tablet and checked off Harry’s name before looking back up, first at Harry then at Y/N, “and guest,” he smiled at her as if it was a compliment as she unwrapped her arm from Harry’s and his now free arm closest to her wound around her waist and settled on her hip. 

“Hi, yeah, Guest Y/S/N, pleasure to meet you,” she stuck her hand out and grinned at the doorman, in an overly friendly manner, acting as if Guest was her first name as that seemed to be what she was known as in this world. Harry pinched her hip as he tried to cover his laugh with a cough. The man shook her hand, confused, before stepping away and allowing them inside. The house where the party was, was overly staged for Christmas. Professionally decorated, obviously, there was no charm of it being decorated by a family, not a single tacky decoration or chocolate coin in sight. Even the Christmas music was overly sophisticated, jazzy, instrumental versions of all their favourites. There was no Paul McCartney belting out about a Wonderful Christmastime, instead the music seemed to make even Jingle Bells sound depressing.

Harry crowded over her as he removed her coat to give to the coat check people just inside the front door, coat check at a bloody house party! What next? He dropped his lips to the shell of her ear and murmured lowly, “behave,” as Y/N rolled her eyes playfully before he bent to kiss her lips gently, almost in a goodbye as the first of the rich bitch wives swooped in to take her away to try and get her to spill on what Harry was like in bed. 

*** 

A few hours had passed, and the dinner where Harry and Y/N were reunited next to each other at the dining table. Don’t get them wrong, the food was insanely delicious but what is it with these posh parties having portions perfectly sized to satiate a weaning baby and no one bigger than that. 

The group were sat around the main reception area now where there was idle chatter now, talking numbers, and all the big wigs in the room wanting to know the digits behind a tour like Harry’s and if they wanted to know that they invited the wrong people to this soiree. Harry didn’t know a thing about the financials of his tour, he showed up, played the show, had a great time then slept it off ready for the next one. Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off him, she loved watching him talk to other people, he always looked so invested, giving direct eye contact, enough to make anyone nervous when speaking to him. He knew when to react with nods of the head and subtle changes in his facial expression. She was snapped from daydreaming about her boyfriend when she heard a low grumble emit from his stomach, his hand automatically reaching to hold his tummy as if that would disguise it. This is why baby food sized portions are never a good idea. Y/N, however, was prepared, she’d been to enough of the posh people parties to know what to expect now. 

While the conversation buzzed around them, she leant across to whisper in his ear, “meet me in the bathroom in a couple of minutes, ‘kay?” she shot him a wink before standing to her feet, grabbing her bag, and wandering to the washroom. 

A few moments passed before Y/N heard a light knocking on the door, opening it a crack to reveal Harry looked puzzled. It’s not like he was expecting to go in the bathroom to see her with her dress pulled up and her knickers on the floor, though he wouldn’t have complained if that was the vision that greeted him either. Instead, he got something much better. She pulled him into the bathroom by a grip on his shirt and shut the door softly behind him before opening her small clutch and revealing what was inside to him. Rammed into the tiny bag was a packet of crisps and two mince pies wrapped in a bit of paper towel. 

“We having a bathroom picnic?” Harry’s eyes crinkled with his soft laugh and his dimples appeared as she fished the bag of crisps out her purse and opened them up. 

“Absolutely, heard your tummy grumbling and mine was seconds away from sounding like a bear had moved into my belly,” she said before shoving a few crisps into her mouth as Harry followed suit. 

“Swear to god, these have never tasted better,” Harry moaned, swallowing down his own mouthful. 

“Hey that’s not fair, the food was delicious, jus’ the portion sizes that were…” she trailed off. 

“Shit, the portion size was shit,” he laughed as he took another handful of crisps before turning the bag on Y/N so she could help herself. 

“Yeah, think even Vinnie would turn his nose up at it,” she giggled, before crunching down on the salty snack. “Here, have the rest,” she stole one last crisp before handing Harry the bag for him to tip the remainder into his mouth, crumbs fluttering down his shirt. 

“Vinnie would turn his nose up at a normal adult portion thinking it’s not enough, the boy’s an addict to food,” Harry laughed as Y/N unwrapped the mince pies from the paper towel, handing Harry his and sinking her teeth into her own. The buttery pastry melting in her mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s so good,” Y/N wolfed the mince pie down in record time before wiping her hands down on the nearest hand towel and patting her stomach as she leant against the sink as Harry finished his own pie, before perching on the sink next to her, both feeling fuller than they did before their picnic. 

“Thanks f’that, needed it,” Harry sighed pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“D’you reckon we’ve stayed long enough so we can leave?” Y/N asked, hip-checking him lightly. 

“Most definitely, I think all the guys think m’stupid anyway because I don’t know what the gross net profit of the South America run was…or somethin’” Harry looked confused as he repeated the question he received earlier. 

“Aw, my little empty-headed baby,” Y/N nuzzled into his side, her tone teasing him. 

“Hey, you’re the one who chose to date this idiot,” Harry nudged her playfully with his elbow before tilting her chin to press a chaste kiss to her lips. 

“Mhm, and I wouldn’t change it f’the world,” she giggled, slipping up onto her tiptoes to kiss him again, before suddenly realising they were in someone else’s bathroom. “Go tell everyone your ‘guest’ isn’t feeling well, and I’ll meet y’by the door,” Y/N rest her chin on his chest before quickly kissing his chin as he stood back up to his full height. 

“Yes ma’am,” Harry saluted, getting ready to leave the bathroom, not before shoving the evidence from their picnic into his blazer pocket. 

“I’m texting the driver to bring us chips for the trip home,” Y/N said before turning on her heel to exit and go get her coat from the front door, “don’t take too long, think the stitching is cracking on the shapewear.” 

———

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just as a disclaimer, hopefully these posts make you feel good about yourself, but also keep in mind that at the end of the day most of the people on this blog are still models and most people still don't look like that. also these are all digital images so it's likely that a lot of them have been retouched in some way + there's often posing for photos & camera tricks etc. we also don't know these people and they might've had plastic surgery or be on some crash diets or like wearing lots of shapewear. idk. not to shame anyone for anything but just to give some perspective that just because they're "plus size" models, they're still models.