#yeah whatever i get it i'm not fucking skinny

[softgothbabe]

.

[butnobodycame627]

sorry I feel like venting in my tags

[archangeldyke-all]

I feel like (modern) sev is the type to call whatever trashy reality show ur watching stupid but then stand there and watch it 😭 she'd sooooo have opinions about everything too like she walks in and sees a new couple together and she's like "WHAT!!!!! but he's a cheater!!!!" and ur like "I thought u weren't watching 🤨"

COMPLETELY she's such a fucking grandpa omg

men and minors dni

for the first year of your relationship, sevika refuses to admit that she likes your trashy tv shows.

"sevika, please sit down, you're stressing me out standing behind me like that." you whine.

"no, no, i'm about to go in the kitchen." sevika grunts, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed as she stares at the screen. you groan.

"you've been standing there for half an hour!"

"yeah, well, i wanna see if sammi gets the note the girls wrote for her." she mutters. you cackle.

"just come sit and watch with me!"

"i'm not really watching this shit! i'm just... waiting to see if she kicks his ass."

"oh janna i hate you."

but, once you guys move in together, she starts letting herself watch with you.

"okay, why doesn't teresa like this skinny girl with the hoops?"

"she found a tell-all book about her ex-husband's dirty secrets."

"shit... oh, fuck, she flipped the fuckin' table!" sevika shouts, the popcorn flying as she points at the tv. you cackle.

by the time you're married, sevika's the one dragging you to the couch for your nightly tradition.

"babe, housewives of salt lake is on in three minutes!" sevika screams from the living room. you giggle.

"i'm just making snacks!"

"well, hurry up!"

"i'm coming, oh my god!"

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[shouyuus]

sfw; popstar!reader x vi in which u punch someone in face and vi finds that incredibly attractive

"who the hell--"

you pull the door open, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, the thin strap to your pink silk nightgown hanging off your shoulder.

"hey."

you frown, blinking at the skinny man standing across the doorframe, a fist held up as if to knock again.

"reese?"

the man smizes, leaning up against the doorframe, his eyes slicking down your exposed skin like an oil spill. you grimace, rolling your eyes. "you need to stop showing up like this. it's getting embarrassing."

"c'mon baby," he says, shrugging, trying to step into the door, "i know you've been missin' me --"

"uh. sorry. no --" you resist the urge to gag as he pouts at you, "we hooked up one time, and it was a mistake."

"it was the best night o'my life!" he crows, still trying to shove into the room but you narrow your eyes, blocking his path till he sighs, re-doubling his greasy smirk "and i'm pretty sure it was also the best night of --"

"princess?" vi's voice calls out from the bedroom. you sigh, glancing over your shoulder as her voice draws nearer, "what's goin' on?"

she rounds the corner to the hallway and pauses, her sleep-fogged eyes sharpening as she takes in the scene. a beat, and she's sauntering over, slipping an arm around your middle, pressing her chin to your shoulder, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

"everything alright? who's this, an old friend?" she looks reese over once, her expression the picture of a woman unimpressed.

you shake your head, leaning into her touch. "no, he's no one --"

"hey! pft, oh i see -- i leave you, and you decide to replace me with a beefed up enforcer whore -- oof --"

"ow."

vi lets out a sharp, startled laugh, her eyes widening as you pull your arm back, shaking out your stinging fist with a whine, cradling your hand.

"holy shit that really hurts," you say, pouting as vi takes your hand in hers, running a thumb along your reddening skin, her shoulders still shaking with laughter, even as she tries to sooth a thumb over your knuckles. she coos, kissing the back of your hand. you crinkle your nose, "you do that all the time?"

she grins, shrugging, "helps if you've had a lot of practice."

"-- y-you -- you broke my nose!" reese's voice is reedy as he holds his face, a thin line of blood trickling through his fingers, his eyes wide.

"oh shut up dude, you're fine. it'll set in a few days," vi snaps, rolling her eyes as she glances back towards the open door. you glare at reese, reaching for the small intercom on the wall.

"go away, reese. and find something better to do than stalk me, okay? ugh --" you huff, punching the call button for the security downstairs.

"h-hey! you can't just close the door on me --" reese tries to scramble for the doorknob but vi puts herself squarely between you and him, cocking an eyebrow. he falters, eyes flickering over vi's arms and shoulders, his lip curling with fear masked as distaste before he stumbles back, snarling at the pair of you, though the effect is largely dampened by the rapidly darkening bruise at the bridge of his nose and the blood smeared down his chin.

"w-whatever! i d-didn't actually wanna fuck you anyway --"

"oh do yourself a favor and get lost," vi says, slamming the door in his face just as the intercom beeps the life and you let the building security in on the situation.

"your hand okay?" vi asks, though her expression is a tug-o-war of concern and ill-concealed amusement.

you crinkle your nose, clenching and unclenching your fingers, wincing at the soft sting.

"yeah. that just hurt way more than i thought it would."

"aww, c'mere," vi tugs you into her chest, peppering your face in kisses before moves to your hand, laughing as you giggle. "my little warrior princess."

you whine, digging your nose into her neck, "don't make fun of me."

"i'm not!" though her voice is still clearly laced with laughter as the pair of you make your way back into the bedroom, "though, i gotta say -- that was kinda hot. like really hot."

you laugh, letting her scoop you up and press you down into the still-warm sheets. you bite your lips.

"yeah? maybe i should try punching my ex-hookups in the face more often."

vi's lips twitch. "yeah? you got alotta those?"

you frown, your pout returning in full swing, "no! ugh -- reese was -- reese was a very drunken mistake one night okay? we've all made choices we're not proud of --"

but vi is laughing, leaning down to catch your lips in a long, indulgent kiss. when she pulls away, your eyes are dark, your mouth sweet and soft around a half-caught breath.

"you know i don't care about your past, princess," she says, running a thumb along your cheeks, "all that matters --"

"is that you're the only one in my future?" you ask, smiling as you reach up to catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. vi's lashes flutter at the certainty of your words, before she's sighing into your neck, her lips warm against your skin.

"yeah. something like that."

you giggle, head tilting back as she kisses a line down your shoulder. and then you're squealing as she flips the pair of you, settling you firmly over her hips, a smirk twisting her lips.

"though, reese --" she makes a show of whistling beneath her breath, "you were really goin' through some shit, huh?"

you groan, burying your face in her chest. "you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

vi laughs, carding her fingers gently through your hair before dropping a kiss to your temple.

"nope. never."

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Autographs

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re the social media manager for AFC Richmond’s socials. You’ve been seeing a trend of asking players for their autograph so you decided to try it out with your team.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

You hold your phone up as you peek into the locker room. All of the boys are dressed so you enter with a grin on your face. You keep a stack of papers close to your chest as you quickly head into Coach Beard's office.

"Hey, coach, training doesn't start for another thirty minutes, right?"

Beard checks his watch and nods, "Affirmative."

You nod, "Cool. I'm going to film some content for the socials then," you turn to Roy, starting with you. You press record and hold out a picture to him, "Can I get your autograph, coach?"

"Fucking hell," Roy grumbles as he sees a younger version of himself staring back at him, "Where the fuck did you find this?"

"Did some digging. Love the curls, by the way," you hold out a marker and Roy glares at you. He still scribbles out his name on the photo, handing it back to you, "There. Now fuck off."

You snicker, "Thanks a bunch!"

You exit the office and zero in on your boyfriend, Jamie. You waltz right up to him with giddiness. He smiles up at you as he finishes lacing up his boots. He stands and pecks your lips, "What's with the look, babes?"

You hold out a picture of a small Jamie posing on a pitch, "Can I have your autograph?"

His brows shoot up in surprise, "No fuckin' way. Where'd you find this?"

"I asked your mom to send me a pic of when you were little."

He chuckles, "Look at me. A sexy lil thing, aren't I?" You snort and hand him the marker. He signs his name and draws a heart, writing his initials and yours inside it. He caps the marker and hands it back to you along with the picture, "There ya go, babes."

"I'll cherish it forever."

You look down at your next photo and go up to Sam, who gives you a polite grin, "Good afternoon, Y/N!"

"Hi, Sam! Can I get your autograph?"

"Of course!" you hand him a picture of when he was a young teen and he laughs, "Oh my."

Jamie, who decided to follow you, reaches for the picture, "Aw look at you, Sammy boy!" Jamie shows all the boys Sam's picture and Sam bashfully chuckles.

"Alright, give it here, Jamie!" Sam swipes it back and signs his name. When he gives it back to you, he asks, "Where did you find this picture?"

"I scrolled through your old Facebook photos."

Sam sighs and shakes his head, "I knew I should've deleted those."

The next person you go up to is Colin. He's a small skinny thing, donning his primary school uniform, smiling widely.

Colin looks up at you in disbelief, "Did you reach out to my parents for this?"

You give a nonchalant shrug, "Maybe."

Each interaction with the boys went this way. Each one was surprised to see a picture of a younger version of them being handed to them. The surrounding players hollering and teasing each other for how they looked back then.

Jamie stood beside you the entire time, watching each interaction and just hanging around you. How could he not? He's always drawn to your presence. Not only that, he just adores how well you get along with the guys. You're sweet and funny, which makes it easy for them to say "yes" to whatever kind of video you want to film for the team's socials. You're very good at your job.

After all the photos are signed, you set them out so everyone can see. You stand back, watching the boys mess around with each other. You're already uploading the videos to your dropbox so you can edit them all together on your work computer.

Jamie wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your temple, "Must be nice getting paid to make fun of footballers," he says with a smirk.

You giggle, "So fun! Seriously so glad Keeley hired me on! Probably the most fun I've ever had in any job!"

"Also probably the best job ever since you get to hang around your hot footballer boyfriend too, yeah?" He gives you a playfully nudge.

You snort, turning to completely face him, your arms hooking behind his neck, "Oh absolutely," you lean in to kiss him but Roy steps in, pushing you two away from each other, "Get a room, you disgustingly cute little shits."

You look at each other confused, but then shrugged as Roy yelled, "Whistle! WHISTLE!" The gaggle of football players quiet and you quickly wave at Jamie. You blow a kiss at him and mouth, "I'll see you later."

He blows you a kiss back and waves, earning him a slap on the head from Roy.

"Oi! What the hell, gramps?"

"Pay attention!" Roy grumbles and turns his attention back to the rest of the players, ready to prepare them for today's training.

[veilofwinter]

#HATE HOW I LOVE YOU

pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

tags: hate sex, ellie, and more ellie <3

You HATED Ellie Williams, and hate is not a light word. You hated her hair, you hated her buff yet skinny arms, you hate how her eyes would roll when you walked into a room. You hated how even though you hated her, you loved the sight of her face.

"Dina, you know I hate doing shit with her. She makes everything so miserable." You crossed your arms over your chest, sucking on the lollipop in your mouth. "Look YN, just try, please? I'll talk to her, okay?"

You sigh, rubbing your temples. "Fine, I'll come but if she starts something I can't grantee I won't go off on her ass."

Soon you found yourself in a small circle with Dina, Jesses, and Ellie. "Let's have a drink." Dina suggests, standing to grab the nearby liquor on the table. "Where'd you even get this from?" You ask leaning back. "Does it matter, just drink it." Ellie speaks, glaring at you like she has been the whole time. You take a deep breath, turning toward Dina. "So, where'd you get it from."

"Just pass me the damn liquor Dina." Ellie interrupts Dina. "Ellie can you for once not be a god damn pain in the fucking ass?" You turn to her, giving her a disgusted look. "Me not be a pain in the ass and you're asking dumbass questions, let's just fucking drink." Suddenly you stand. "Okay I'm not doing this. I even tried to ignore her and still she found a way to be a bitch." Ellie stans as well. "You're callin' me a bitch? Have you seen your attitude lately love?"

You throw your hands up in defeat. "I'm leaving." Finally, Dina stands and grabs your arm. "YN no. You're gonna stay in here! You two need to do something about whatever the hell this weird ass beef is!" I roll my eyes, "I'm not going to stay here and try to make up with her, it's not like she listens." Ellie tries to rush you, but Jesse grabs her. "Okay can everyone just calm the fuck down?!"

Dina takes a deep breath. "You two are going to sit in here and you're going to fucking make up." You shake your head. "I'm not doing that shit." Ellie laughs. "Yeah right, I'm not sitting in a room with her alone." You glare at her, crossing your arms against your chest. “Dina, I swear to go-“ Dina places her hand over your mouth.

“You both are going to stay in this damn room, and you're going to make the hell up.” She fake smiles, grabbing Jesse. You chase after her, “Dina-“ She slams the door in your face and locks it. “Make. Up!” She yells.

Now you sit face to face with Ellie, the silence piercing through the room. “Look, I ain’t plannin’ to make up. So, let’s just pretend we’re cool and leave it at that.” She leans back in the most enticing way, her legs spreading the just right amount.

You struggle to keep your eyes from raining to in between her legs. “I can’t even pretend to like you.” You say rolling your eyes to look away. “You can’t pretend to like me, but you can pretend like you weren’t just staring in between my legs?” She smirks, sitting up and leaning down against her knees.

Your face heats up and you avoid eye contact. “I wasn’t ev-“ Ellie laughs, “Damn and then you lie about it? I thought you were bolder than that.” You glare at her. “You’re so cocky, you must think everyone likes looking in between your legs.” She laughs once more. “I know you do.”

She silences you.

Suddenly she stands, placing herself in front of you on the floor. “So do you wanna make up or not?” She was close, very close. Her eyes trailing down to your lips, her hands placed on your thighs. “What are you talking about?” You speak quietly from being so close.

“Let’s make up.”

After that phrase was uttered, you and Ellie’s lips collide at a fast speed. The kiss so sloppy and good it has you feeling feverish. Her rough hands sliding up your shirt, against the skin of your stomach. “You must’ve waited so long for this huh?” She says smirking against your lips.

“Just shut the fuck up.” Ellie laughs. “Shut me up.” Those words ignite a light in your belly, causing you to squeeze your legs together. “Look at you all tense, want me to help you?” She asks, placing her hands higher up your shirt. Her hands find themselves unbuckling your black bra, and you were happy you wore it.

“Must’ve known this was gonna happen huh? Wore such a pretty bra f’me?” Ellie attaches her lips to your neck, biting down softly and pulling a small sound from your lips as you jolt. “Want me to touch you? Tell me.” She waits for your response. “Yeah. I do Ellie, so just fucking do it.”

“Don’t be a bitch about it.”

Finally, you're on your back, her fingers penetrating you at a fast pace. “This feel good huh? Always talking shit, I guess this shuts you up?” She grins over you, watching your face contort from pleasure. “F-fuck! Shut the fuck u-up...!” Your back arching off the couch as she hits that one sweet spot inside you.

“Yeah? This the spot for you huh?” She places your nipple into her mouth, sucking softly. “Oh! Okayokay..!” You place your fingers into her hair, your eyes closed and filling with tears from how good you feel. “Holy-“ Ellie pulls away from the bud with a pop, saliva coating the nipple sloppily.

“Gonna cum around my fingers? Yeah?” She speeds up, your core tightening around her fingers. “I-I’m gonn-“ Ellie suddenly pulls her fingers away. You gasp, looking at her with a glare. “What the hell-“ She places her hand over your mouth. “Lay back down you big baby.”

You force yourself back down with a groan. Ellie’s mouth finds its way to your clot, sucking harshly. “Wh- AH!” Your hands going to her head as she sucks and licks at your swollen bud. Her eyes never leaving yours as she watches the tears that had built in your eyes finally fall.

“Gonna- whew! I’m gonna cum El’s!” Ellie sucks harder, just enough to make you go over the edge. The pull you have in her hair causing her to groan softly into your cunt. She licks your juices all up, not leaving a drop behind. She sits up, wiping the side of her lip and placing her finger into her mouth like she had leftover sauce from a meal.

“You taste so good YN, if I would’ve known that I’d have eaten you out sooner.” She comes close to your face, causing your face to scrunch. “I thought we made up?”

“Not even close.”

My Requests are open!

@sorrowsblogworld @sorrowsideas @tinygojo

[bunni-v1]

Something that's been on my mind for so long is lighter/harumasa x chubby! Reader, coming from someone chubby I hate how my body doesn't fit multiple outfits or my rolls whenever I sit down. But oh my goodness it's been on my mind o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

🍓Every time a chubby bitch (affectionate) feels insecure a fairy dies. Not to be weird but I fucking love chubby people, they're so fucking hot, I will burn down all of society for them. These r short btw, sorry. I personally have had the opposite issue weight-wise my whole life, so I didn't wanna pretend like I knew what you go through lol.

Lighter Lorenz

-Lighter prefers his partner to have more meat on their bones, I'm 100% sure. (Hoyoverse told me). Having more of you to hold and love would never be a bad thing, and it irritates him when people insinuate their partners being bigger is a bad thing.

-He doesn't really leave room for you to feel insecure about yourself, because he's so very in love with all of you. If you even utter a negative word about yourself he's looking at you with this adorable pouty glare, getting ready to kiss you stupid so you'll shut up.

-He's great for your self-esteem because he makes you feel so amazing and pretty. He peppers you with kisses, especially over parts of your skin you find particularly ugly. He will shower you with love until you also love yourself as much as he does.

-If you're worried about being too heavy for him to hold or anything, that's not a problem either. Lighter is strong, and easily lifts you up regardless of how heavy you are. You weigh nothing to him, honestly, and it's not even a challenge.

-It's not just him, though. The girls also love you, and they won't let you feel bad about the way your body looks. Lighter comes with your own personal hype squad attached, it seems.

-Help the stupid soul that makes you feel insecure. Lighter is like your valiant Knight in Leather Armor. If someone has an issue with you, they have an issue with him, and he's happy to prove that to them if need be.

Harumasa Asaba

-Harumasa is, how do I put this... weight blind? He's just not the kind of guy to really give that much of a shit about little things like that. Life is too short to be picky about the person you fall in love with, and he honestly wouldn't want you to change anything for him anyway.

-Chubby, skinny, tall, short, whatever, it doesn't matter that much to him. You are you, that's all that matters right? Well, if you're feeling bad about yourself, then it matters a little bit. He doesn't want you thinking he doesn't care about your feelings.

-Always, always assures you that you look so good in everything -- and equally, he's always willing to prove that he thinks you look good. He can't promise the clothes will survive, but if it'll make you feel better the clothes can be nobly sacrificed.

-And, yeah, he uses the "You're more comfortable to cuddle," argument on you all the time. It's true, though. You are very comfortable to lay on and sleep with. The soft squish of your warm tummy is the perfect resting spot after a long day of work.

-If someone's bothering you or making you feel bad, he's the type to come over and flip it around on them. He's very good at finding people's insecurities, after all. If they want to make you feel bad, they should know what it feels like too! It's only fair, right?

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Please.”

Stiles stands there chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.

Derek isn't fully clued in yet but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.

“Please, Derek. I'm really sorry about this but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”

Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.

Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.

His messages had read:

> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?

And:

> ill let myself in if thats cool?

And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:

> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed

> all shall be revealed

> lol i don't know why i put that

> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok... ok?

> as if you wouldn't lol

> #sourwolf

> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me

And then, a few seconds later:

> right?

Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:

Okay, weirdo <

About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.

“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think that we're close enough now? For this not to be weird? I mean, at least I hope that's true. I'm just so fucking tired, man, I've got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up out of bed, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me here.

A pause.

“ You do know you can trust me—right, big guy?”

Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.

When the steel door had unlocked and slid open Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension, and also the strongest of them all: Hope.

“...let me?”

Here and now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.

Let him what?

Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder about it though because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly—very slowly, as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.

Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed and fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.

Derek silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.

“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”

All Derek can think is shit, he's freezing... while going into some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.

“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.

And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.

Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, he clumsily takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff and hangs on as firmly but as gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.

“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.

Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing, something that smells like relief.

Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.

The only reason he knows it isn't is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But I, uh, I don't have wolfy senses like you, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”

Then he promptly stops breathing—and Derek thinks of baited breath and The Merchant of Venice, and feels a little hysterical. 

He's having to resist the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this.

Mentally shaking himself, he thinks: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe we can team up against this one, too?

He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and—praying to nobody in particular that he doesn't fuck this up—whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear. 

Stiles shivers and exhales, breathing normally again now, but he doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to; he just needs to sleep.

As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace, and hopefully Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also wonderfully of Derek, now.

Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking the fuckout because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour as he lies deathly calm and worrys about everything and nothing all at once.

Before he can bite into his lip to not make an idiot of himself, he's blurting out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”

Stiles's only sighs then hums quietly, his breathing having already evened out to the point of almost-sleep.

Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's gone, drifting off to somewhere close to unconsciousness.

Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.

.

for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)

[gingerrgen]

Skinny dipping!

Ellie x f!reader

Part2 of ROOMMATES

a/n: first Ellie smut, tried my best! 🐞

tw: fingering, pet names (doll), semipublic, public fingering, skinny dipping

________________

You look around seeing if there's no one around "we're far enough right?", she nods answering your question.

"But don't look" you say embarrassed before taking off my clothes, she chuckles "Don't worry doll, i won't look". You start taking off your clothes, the though of getting naked knowing people are nearby excited you, Ellie could sense that, she's stripping off too.

"Don't look Ellie!" you say after you take off all of your clothes, you turn around, watching her toned body, her tattoo, scars, freckles all over her back, what a sigh; "now" you tell her before she turns around taking a look at your body.

Her eyes says it all, she enjoyes the view of you.

"This is weird, being completely naked to the world to see" you say looking around, Ellie just laughs at your comment before offering her hand to get in the water, "Come on doll", you give her a small nod before you two ran into the water, giggles and laughs all over the place.

"Nothing like a naked swim in the lake" Ellie adds to the situation, you let yourself take in my the water, nothing else matters now, just you and her.

You two swim for a while, splashing water and taking in the sun over the water.

"This is...refreshing" you said looking at her "This is perfect" she says before pulling you into her embrace, her hand in your waist keeping you as close as possible to her, both of your slippery bodies against each other. "I hope no one see us", "yeah me too, but the thought of being in public and the risk of getting caught it's exciting, huh?" You shake your head in disbelief at her comment "you're so stupid" you say between laughs

You wrap your arms around her neck for support, but this only make both of your bodies closer, Ellie's hands now wondering all over your body, the water slapping around your bodies...her hand tracing small patters, you two feel the tension building up.

"Since we're this close...there's plenty we can do", you look at her with knowing eyes, "Whatever you wanna do, I'm in" it's all you say and all she has to hear before her hand starter going down your thigh now, wondering that place you wanted her to touch.

"Ellie...don't tease" "What? What do you want doll, I can't hear you..." you hated when she did that, you hated it so badly it makes you want to have more of her, of her touch. "Since you're so needy I may give you what you want, don't you think?" you nodded at her comment.

Her hand finally touched your pussy, the spot you're aching for her to touch she's doing it, slow and painful circles over your clit, enough to make you whimper and cry for more. She teases your puffy clit a little while just to hear your voice, she inserts one digit making you choke on your breath

"Fuck...Ellie" you whimper gripping onto her back, she grins at your whimpers "Such perfect whimpers" she says as her finger send you jolts of pleasure all over your body.

"More...please" she couldn't say no to your plea, she adds another finger making you squirm, short moans leaving your mouth, music to Ellie's ears.

She hits that perfect spot that makes you crazy "Ah ah Ellie, don't stop don't stop" you moan as her fingers do magic over you.

"I'm close...." I all you can say at the pleasure building up "I can tell how close you are" she says with that cocky voice, she fingers you harder and deeper, enough to send you to your climax, releasing all over her thick fingers. You moan loudly as you release, leaving you panting, she holds you close to support you.

You hide your face on the crook of her neck "I'm so embarrassed" you say, she laughs softly "Hey there's nothing to be embarrassed" she says caress your face with her soft hand giving you a reassuring smile.

You two stayed in the water a while more before going out to quickly wrap yourselves with a towel. She sits down admiring the sight of you, "Well doll that was quite an experience", you laugh as what she said sitting down beside her "I didn't expect you to melt so easily, doll. I like that though, it's cute" she says teasing you. "Oh shut up, it's been a while"

The both of you lay down on the mat looking the sky, the rays of sun going through the leaves, it was a memorable moment with your roommate Ellie.

________________________

a/n: How was it guys? I'm really starting to get a hang on this, it's fun and I like giving the people what they want 😼🐞

hashtags:

[mulletmitsuya]

Sano Groupchat (and closely affiliated)

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, the word necrophilia is mentioned twice, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of drugging, also a "description" of a penis (it's not what it sounds like i swear)

Side note: i've realized that my warnings without context, make me look like a crazy person so please bear with me 😔🙏

Desc: Mikey gets kidnapped by a crazy fan and so forth (i'm so bad at these, might remove them 💀)

Shinichiro: Mikey, we're glad to have you back. i'll release a statement saying you need to recover from the traumatizing situation you've just been through. just rest up okay?

Emma: yeah, we're here if you need anything :((

Izana: you're alive, so

Emma: Izana ☹️

Izana: ...

Izana: we are here to support you through difficult times

Izana: as your "siblings" 🙂

Shinichiro: what are the quotation marks for bud 😞✊?

Izana: my hand slipped

Shinichiro: oh okay then!

Mikey: guys

Shinichiro: Draken, how's the arrest going?

Draken: the girls trial is in a few weeks from now and she can't afford bail so she's locked up

Mikey: guys it's not that deep

Mikey: like, it's not as big of a deal as you're making it out to be

Izana: see? he's fine

Emma: YOU WERE MISSING FOR 2 WEEKS

Emma: YOU WERE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED BY A CRAZY FAN. IT'S A BIG DEAL

Mikey: but they didn't hurt me?? they made all my favourite snacks and food and tucked me into bed every night. which maybe was a little weird but i still liked it. i had a very good time actually. so why are we arresting her? she's chill fr

Draken: that's all she did?

Baji: how do you know she didn't drug you in your sleep and do things to you 🤨

Mikey: bro?

Shinichiro: Keisuke, that's a very sensitive topic for some people, so let's not say it so casually okay?

Baji: what?

Baji: is it a long shot to say Mikey was touched or something?

Baji: i mean, what other motives did she have

Baji: and you guys saw her tweets right? she's obsessed with you

Baji: wasn't she the one who calculated the circumference, length, girth and colour of your penis??

Draken: no that's another one

Baji: nvm

Baji: that was Haruchiyo

Haruchiyo: fuck off

Mikey: Baji we literally go to onsens together with Haruchiyo. you've all seen my penis 😐

Baji: hard and soft are two different things

Baji: you pervert

Haruchiyo: it wasn't me, what the fuck?

Haruchiyo: i'm too famous to be risking my reputation like that

Haruchiyo: i'd need a burner account no one could access, which i don't have

Haruchiyo: so no Baji, i don't have a Mikey fanpage

Haruchiyo: that would be crazy and weird and bordeline insane

Baji: i didn't say any of that?

Baji: and you are all 3 of those things🤨

Mikey: well whatever cause everyone was wrong. it's small

Mikey: you know what it's not even small. it's average for my size, actually

Mikey: i mean i'm 5'3 yk. what did people expect

Mikey: like, it would look weird if i had a big one

Mikey: it would be disproportionate to have a big one

Mikey: i see people saying "i know it's big😍" or stuff like "i wanna gag on it"

Emma: gross

Emma: why are you telling us this 😟

Mikey: which i find really flattering

Draken: flattering isn't the word i'd use

Mikey: yeah thats cause you're a fucking prude, Ken-chin

Draken: it's cause i have a wife, jackass

Emma: 😊❤

Mikey: but seriously it wouldn't make sense for me to have a big penis

Baji: excuses excuses 🙄

Mikey: my penis is fine

Baji: they gave you dick dysmorphia

Mikey: whatever it's not like i'll use it anyway

Baji: bottom?

Mikey: i just don't like sex 😐

Izana: are we here to listen to Mikey talk about his small dick or what

Shinichiro: yeah maybe we should... not

Mikey: well, yours is skinny so whatever

Shinichiro: no it's not 😕

Shinichiro: i've had many people compliment me for my size, actually

Izana: "many"

Izana: "people"

Mikey: we know it's not girls, just say you fuck men (Wakasa) dude

Baji: no girl wants you bro

Baji: (isn't it Takeomi?)

Mikey: (Takeomi is violently homophobic)

Baji: (oh yeah)

Haruchiyo: what are you guys doing

Mikey: (whispering)

Haruchiyo: you guys are texting

Haruchiyo: we can all see this

Haruchiyo: are you fucking dumb

Haruchiyo: not you, Mikey

Mikey: thanks Haru 😋

Baji: he was doing it too???

Baji: i get why Takeomi was homophobic 😒

Baji: (when are you going to address his crush on you, Mikey)

Mikey: (it's not a crush, you ever heard of bff's, Keisuke🙄?)

Baji: (that's like saying me and Kazutora are bff's)

Mikey: (you are?)

Baji: (i'm in love with him)

Mikey: (oh yeah)

Mikey: (but Haru isn't in love with me)

Baji: (he probably creams his pants when you use that nickname)

Haruchiyo: i can see this

Haruchiyo: you aren't "whispering"

Haruchiyo: IT'S A FUCKING GROUPCHAT

Draken: does this matter?

Draken: we were talking about the fact that Mikey was kidnapped

Draken: Baji is right, something really bad could have happened if they have you longer

Draken: along with the statement, we need to talk to your fans man

Draken: this is a line crossed

Baji: no shit

Baji: also, why didn't you, i don't know, fight back and escape or something?

Mikey: i didn't want to hit a girl 😔

Mikey: like i said, i enjoyed my time there

Mikey: knew you guys would find me eventually so it was like, a side quest

Draken: of course you'd call a kidnapping a side quest

Emma: how'd she even kidnap you?

Mikey: she saw me at a convenience store and they'd run out of my favourite sweeties

Mikey: and i was whining about it to the cashier, so i guess she overheard

Mikey: and she said she had some in her car

Mikey: so i go there with her

Mikey: then she asked for an autograph

Mikey: then i'm pretty sure she drugged me with chloroform or something cause i was out

Emma: chloroform isn't like the movies. it takes a while to knock someone out, so that's not really likely unless you stood there and took it

Mikey: ...

Mikey: ok fine, do you want me to say i fell asleep in her car? huh?

Mikey: cause that's what i did

Izana: it's like you *want* to die or something

Izana: nvm

Baji: are you stupid or something

Draken: Mikey

Draken: you are 25 years old

Draken: and you're telling me

Draken: that you fell for the "hi kid, want some candy?" trick

Draken: are you fucking serious

Shinichiro: Mikey...

Shinichiro: you could have gone to another store 🙁

Shinichiro: i almost lost you

Shinichiro: because of jellybeans? really?

Mikey: they're my favourite sweet okay ☹️

Mikey: and i was lazy and tired

Mikey: hence, falling asleep

Baji: he has to have necrophilia or something

Shinichiro: i don't think that's the word buddy

zana: "necrophilia"

Izana: didn't you graduate?

Baji: working on it 💪

Izana: ah alright

Izana: what's your IQ?

Baji: below average

Mikey: Baji, don't tell people that ☠️

Izana: ...

Izana: wow he actually answered me

Emma: *sigh*

Draken: what's the point of tying out your physical actions

Emma: shut up a little babe

Draken: ok

Emma: what Baji meant, was necormancy

Draken: that's incorrect, babe

Emma: omg can we just wrap this up

Izana: both of you are wrong 💀

Izana: what is wrong with you people

Izana: necrophilia= sexual attraction to a dead body

Izana: necormancy= communication with dead people

Izana: narcolepsy= condition characterized by an extreme tendency to sleep

Izana: i'm assuming you guys meant to say the third one, for Mikey

Izana: holy shit

Emma: no need to be mean about it 😒

Baji: i'll add those to my "new words" list

Mikey: maybe i do have that

Mikey: i do fall asleep in very odd places

Emma: you know what we can talk about this tommorow. time out

*only admins can send messages*

[spitdrunken]

i keep thinking about essentially being like. velvette's 'charity case' model and how your relationship develops from there.

notes: fem!reader, velvette calls you ugly LMAO, beyond that... no warnings, really. surprisingly the most healthy vee relationship ive written yet!

velvette's typical models all look similar, reminiscent of the modeling industry back when you were alive. tall, skinny and, more important than anything else, human-looking. most of them could pass for humans in a costume.

you… do not. you just didn't get quite that lucky with your demon form! really, you can say that the vast majority of people drew the short end of the stick, at least by the kind of standards that people like velvette set. maybe you're a bat, with a snout you've deemed as pig-like taking up most of your face. or a sheep, your single-slitted, dead eyes making even you uncomfortable. perhaps you're more formed after an object than what you would consider a person, or plant-like in nature! in any regards, due to the way lucifer chose to have you reborn you firmly do not fall within hell's beauty standards.

all of that means you were absolutely not expecting to be accepted when you went ahead and applied to a job with someone as famous and perfectionistic as velvette. it had started as a joke, really. you'd posted a purposefully horrible picture of yourself on vitter, with a stupid caption like; "do u think that :skull::heart: would kill me for submitting to open casting looking like this lmaooooo" (you have to use emojis to talk about the vees, as the socials owned by them are notorious for taking anything remotely negative down.)

and unexpectedly, your post randomly did some pretty big numbers, with people egging you on and some practically begging to tell you what kind of insults she would sling at your head. you saw some people copying your original as well.

so you're like! whatever!!! you don't think that you'd even get through the application process, much less velvette herself. nothing will end up happening, so, who cares? but then, somehow, despite everyone and their mom wanting to model for velvette, you get… through? and you even get an interview scheduled with velvette herself?

she takes one look at you as you walk in, and just goes: oh my god. this really is grim. and you're hardly seated, before she continues. look, i don't have the time for niceties, and introductions are entirely unnecessary. i'm sure you already know this, but you're not here because of your looks.

yeah. you figured that. …i guessed so. but i'm still sitting here. so, why?

instead of getting a real answer, you're shuffled off into a shoot, different outfits flashing on top of your body, faster than you blink, velvette's face settled into a scowl, till it suddenly lights up. it doesn't go… super well, you've never really done this and, if you had, velvette's attitude surely wouldn't help. you never really get clarity as to why you're being hired, when a contract is shoved in front of you.

(the reality of the situation is that velvette had seen you trending, not trending-trending, but still a noticable. she realised the demand for someone like you, a 'relatable' every-demon being thrust into this new world, and documenting it online. her company can claim they accept 'all kinds of demons', and some poor suckers will feel less excluded when looking at her fashion, buying it more quickly. win-win-win!)

she tells you to you're face that you're the ultimate challenge. if she can fix someone like you up to in a half-decent model, it just shows that she really is a fucking goddess. maybe you're not as pretty or as used to everything as the rest of the models, but that doesn't mean you don't put in any effort now that you're there. the other girls won't associate with you whatsoever, but you do listen in on their conversations, pretending to mess around on your phone, coming to know the kind of make-up velvette likes. you tirelessly browse online, mostly on vikvok and vitter, figuring out the current trends. and after a while, velvette takes a look at an outfit you picked, and actually says…

this is pretty decent. it won't look good on you, but i can use this. maybe, somewhere along the way, you become more of an assistant or outfit suggestor for velvette, only occasionally stopping in for shoots. velvette never accepted anyone in a similar position to you, even though vox tried her to get an assistant for ages, and she wouldn't have accepted you either if you'd obviously being vying for the position. but you weren't, and your position just kind of naturally developed that way.

your shtick as a 'charity case' has somewhat been abandoned, though velvette still dumps clothes in your arms sometimes and tells you to try them on. maybe you're one of the few people who gets her to laugh, and the only one who she freely bitches to about all of her models. (she does this to vox and valentino too, but it's not the same. they don't care as much, nor do they really know who she's talking about.) she lets you sort through some of the open casting applications and help pick out the theme for a shoot.

of course, absolutely everything you do has to go through velvette first, and she still criticizes you aplenty, but you can't help but feel she has grown… fond of you, in a sense? sometimes, you swear you see her wearing outfits you'd picked out for another model… and while she shittalks everything that moves, you just happened to listen in on her giving a model a tonguelashing for talking bad about you. either way, you've certainly come to like her a lot more. you're now even mutuals on vitter and vikvok! much to the delight of the tiny following you'd grown on there. she even posted a picture of the two of you on there! …that means you've really made it.

maybe at some point, when her company has hit a new milestone and, in a rare slip-up (or perhaps valentino gave her a super strong drink on purpose, thinking its funny) she gets pretty drunk. you end up sitting opposite of each other in a bar, with her having decided on the spot to put some make-up on you, leaning in close to check her work, fingers gliding slowly over your skin. a situation that feels entirely too intimate for this setting, not helped by the half-lidded look in your eyes. …i have changed my mind. she mumbles, slurring her words are little. you can look pretty, after all.

you sputter out a oh really, and you only realised that now?! in order to break the heaviness of the air, the unspoken tension that makes your heart skip a beat, and velvette laughs.

(maybe there's hope for the two of you yet.)

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

I know you mean good but fat girls can also break easily. I also don’t mean to sound rude or offend you but it’s rare for fat girls to be 6 foot, I know you might be fat and 6 foot but it’s pretty rare. I think most people stick to petite girls in cod stories because it would be scary and horrifying if they gave reader their sweater and all the sudden reader fits or barely fits in it and it only works as a crop top on them. And please try to remember just because their fat doesn’t mean they aren’t clean fat girls bathe too and do their eyebrows too they aren’t slobs. Fat girls can break when they get laid and yes I believe they also will jiggle around in the process so please try to be mindful when bringing up cod guys with a fat girl

Girl what

I'm 5"2 so idk what you're talking about lmao

Also, I have never once written fat/chubby girls in a bad light, like???

OMG WHAT THEY BATHE?!?!?!?

Ya don't say.

I'm literally a fat girl myself 💀

I've seen this before, so it's probably someone sending it to creators who write for chubby readers to get their point (???) across or something.

People can write whatever they want, okay.

Most writers write with themselves in mind, so the reader will reflect that in subtle ways. I know that the petite girl thing is become sort of a meme on here but like there are girls who look like that lol

And like, this is fiction. I don't know why you're trying to justify only writing for skinny people by saying it might be unrealistic in some ways????

If I say the reader is fat and like Johnny's hoodie is oversize, THEN IT'S FUCKING OVERSIZE OKAY

And if I want John to pick up the chubby reader and carry her across the goddamn world, HE FUCKING WILL

When did fanfiction become about realism???

Y'all write about hybrid AUs, Omega stuff, Monster AUs (no hate, I love all the unique ideas!!) but we can't write about fat girls??

Yeah no. Not in this fucking house.

And the thing about breaking easily....

Girl, we literally have built-in airbags. Whether that's tig ol bitties, thunderthighs, the tummy of love or the ass of the century.

Like we are cushioned all the way through????

If you throw me and my (skinny) sister against a wall, who do you think is gonna come out with fewer injuries?

Yeah.

Again, NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

I know this is probably a troll, but I'm so sick of people like this. Anyway,

FAT GIRLS FOREVER 🩷✨️

[vendetta-ari]

Romeo, Juliet, and a blonde Romeo.

Patrick Zweig x Fem!Reader x Art Donaldson (mentions of sex but no written smut, implied relationship with Art Donaldson, implications of At Donaldson ed (the food kind) cheating?,Reader is a lil bitch, not proofread)

"Hey, i made you breakfast..!" Art chirped as you sat up from your fluffy bed, ever the morning person, the blonde was already dressed and awake- holding a gross looking green smoothie in his hands. somehow, this grown man still has yet to understand what casual means. whatever, free food.

Thanks again for making breakfast," you tap your foot rhythmically against the tile, watching Art pick at his own pancakes and not eat them. "you gonna eat..?"

"not hungry." he quickly bites back, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes with a soft smile. you pause, and the rythem your leg was bouncing to halts as you question him—"why would you make food if you weren't hungry?" one arched brow later and the blonde is chuckling nervously, cleaning up your empty plate and shrugging frantically "yknow, i. actually don't know- I guess i just wanted to make you something but I didn't want it to be awkward so-"

"Art?"

"yeah?"

"stop acting like my boyfriend."

he stammers a quick apology, before making up some excuse about needing to go to practice. (he doesn't, and you know that too, you aren't dumb.) and just like that, the blonde is gone. you'd feel bad, but this isn't the first time you had to remind him that your relationship is purely just friends (with amazing benefits) who knew pathetic men could have such good dick? after cleaning up the rest of the kitchen you go to your room to change, only to hear a familiar pattern of knocks.

tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap.

annoying bastard.

Patrick Zweig.

you open the window anyway. you're a woman of weak morals.

"miss me, baby?" he purrs.

you debate pushing him out the window, but the drop isn't very far.

after rolling your eyes and pulling him through the window, you meet his lips for a kiss. the kind where it's not light or tender and very much sloppy, with tillted heads and kitten licks.

so yeah, maybe you were playing with Patrick and Art. but could you really be blamed?

"hey, what's that?-" Patrick's stupid mouth isn't on your lips, but it's enough to pull you out if the moment, dazed and ticked.

"what's what?" you look around, trying to gage where his eyes have landed now.

Fuck.

Art left his Stanford hat. bright red, almost like a stop sign.

braindead blonde, he's gonna ruin your shot at getting laid (again) today.

"it's nothin, my uh..brother came over today. left his hat."

"am I supposed to belive that?"

God you could pull your hair out right now, you kick the hat under your bed. "can we get back to it?" you snarl, sitting on the bed and pulling him to stand between your legs.

he hasn't budged yet. it's been 5 minutes and he won't even kiss you, the cap is in his hands and he's inspecting it like some sort of fuckin' detective.

"im not fucking you if you don't tell me who's this actually is."

why does that even matter? since when has Patrick ever been monogamous? just last week he asked for a three way between you and this secret somone- the way he described the man though, sounded like he was in love.

"yknow, he's not too skinny, he's fir and built perfectly. white, blonde, he's got those two colored eyes...what's that called again? heterophobia?"

"Patrick i dont care, I'm not trying to get an STD."

"no he's safe, I swear!"

"i said no already!"

Patrick sniffs the hat, like the weirdo he is. you swear his pupils dialate, like a cat.

"what?" you murmur, almost defensively. you didn't mean for it to sound like that- but oh well.

"nothing. I'm going home."

"what? hey!? what about me-"

Art's stupid little hat gets thrown at your face, you sputter and go to chase after Patrick, but he's already hopped out of your window.

well. that's one less good lay.

atleast you've still got Art?

you quickly text him that he left his hat at your place, you make it sound a little flirty too. you didn't just get all worked up for nothing.

Patrick hadn't even stepping foot through the door and Art is already trying to leave.

"look I know we made plans man- but I gotta go do something important!"

"Important like what? whats more important than hanging out with me, am I that insignificant to you?!"

"no- it's not like that, stop being fucking dramatic!"

"just tell me what it is that's soooo important!"

"it's a girl, okay?! I left something at her dorm."

"you're dating—?"

"n-no..not exactly. it's complicated."

manwhore. that's what patrick wants to say. but he relents and let's his best friend get away. as much as he'd love to dig his claws into Art and never let go, no one can resist those eyes.

"fine. go then, just leave, not like I care." He's talking to the air at this point, because Art's already flown off like a puppy hearing a clicker. but hey, maybe Patrick's just being dramatic. he's sure to find some hot chick on campus- right?

maybe Patrick is an idiot. maybe he's a fool for thinking somone as gorgeous as you wouldn't sleep around. but fuck, for once he wanted domone all to himself.

yet here he stands, in Art's doorstep, watching him hold the red Stanford cap he just saw in your house. he isn't overthinking it. underthinking it, if anything. he should really see if he's got an STD.

"so..you're saying she's fucking both of us?" Art finally breaks the silence. looking dejected after Patrick's convoluted explanation when he came back from your dorm.

"dunno. I guess so." Patrick breaks eye contact. he really can't stand to look at his best friend right now. why can't he have anything to himself? why does he always have to share? it's not fair.

He feels like he's back in the tennis academy. sharing his very being with Donaldson. everything he every owned or would own, would be shared. he didn't mind back then, but with a girl like you? call him selfish for wanting you all alone. just his luck.

he needs to prove he's better. for his own fucking sanity.

To be continued.

-xoxo, Ari

[sparkles-and-trash]

dabi & shouto bonding + dabihawks, fluff

It's almost noon when Touya comes shuffling into the living room he shared with his boyfriend, PJ pants hanging low on his hips, no shirt in sight.

"Well, good mo-, no wait, good midday to me, handsome," Keigo quipped with a grin and Touya rolled his eyes.

Yeah, yeah, I'm a lazy bum, I know I know," Touya replied with a yawn and a stretch.

"We can't all just call home office and lunge around in sweats all day and call it work, yanno," he added and Keigo laughed.

"So staying up until 3 am gaming with Spinner and Tenko counts as work, now?" the hero asked with a sly smirk, and Touya sighed.

"I need a shirt for this conversation, and either their all in the wash or you stole some again, and I think we all know which one is true."

Keigo raised his eyebrows at that.

"I haven't taken any more than you've given me, I swear!" he said with hands raised in surrender, and Touya sighed dramatically.

"Well, what am I supposed to wear then?"

-

Listen, Touya loves Keigo.

Everything about him, actually.

Except for the fact that, ever since the war ended and the hero was allowed to develop his own style, that style turned out to be a mix between cottage core lesbian and confused grandpa.

Actually Touya didn't mind it when the clothes were on Keigo, he actually kinda loved it.

But while Keigo looked ridiculously hot in Touya's band shirts and big hoodies, Touya didn't quite have that same luxury.

So, there he sat, in a crowded coffee shop, a busy afternoon, out in public, with his white hair, scarred skin, piercings, tattoos, ripped black skinny jeans and... a very eclectically colored cardigan Touya suspected Keigo had dug out of a thrift store that should have been closed decades ago.

Yeah, fuck his life.

Just as the former villain pulled the bucket hat he had also borrowed from his boyfriend further down on his head in a vain attempt to hide he noticed the person he was here to meet come in trough the door.

"Shouto," Touya said out loud, raiding his hand to grab his brothers attention.

His dork of a younger brother smiled, as brightly as he ever did, and moved over to Touya quickly.

"Nii-san!" The young hero greeted and Touya huffed.

"Yeah yeah, sit down ya dork, I ordered you your..."

Touya's voice trailed off as Shouto took off his jacket.

"Todoroki Shouto, are you wearing my fucking shirt?!"

Shouto looked up at him with a hint of surprise on his face as he looked down on himself , before he nodded.

"Yes, it appears that I am," he said simply before happily taking a sip of his bubble tea.

Touya just stared at him.

"Why?" he finally asked as Shouto didn't elaborate.

Shouto took his time enjoying his tea before he answered.

"It's like a hand-over, it's normal for brothers to do, you know?" he replied with a shrug.

Touya blinked a few times trying to catch up.

"A hand... over?" he finally asked, trying his best to wrap his head around this.

He decided this was a bucket hat off situation, and just as he placed the hat down, Shouto picked ip back up and put in on his head.

"Like this, see?" the young hero said as if that answered all the questions.

Touya just stared back and Shouto sighed.

"Iida said he used to get his older brothers stuff all the time, Nii-san, I really think you're making too much out of this."

Oh.

Oh, god.

This poor, clueless, sweet bastard.

"You're talking about hand-me-downs, aren't you?" Touya finally asked, and Shouto nodded.

"Yes, that was the phrase."

Touya bit his lip, trying to figure out how to go about this without being too mean.

Look at him, all reformed and shit.

"Look Sho, I get that we have a lot of catching up to do, but if you want my stuff as hand-me-downs or whatever it'd be great if you asked first, okay?" Touya explained.

Shouto hummed.

"I must have misunderstood the tradition then, I apologize."

Touya huffed.

"It's okay, kid," he said with a small smile, and Shouto smiled back, before his gaze fell to the cardigan Touya was wearing and his brown furrowed.

"You can keep that one, though," Shouto said seriously, and Touya couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Yeah, I don't judge ya there, kid," he replied with a grin.

Before they parted ways a few hours later Touya quickly snapped a picture of Shouto in the bucket hat to send to Keigo with a warning that he'd probably never seen that hat again.

It was handed down now, after all.

[zepskies]

So, how would Ben react if he and the reader went clothes-shopping for him and he overhears the saleswomen talking to themselves about how insanely hot he was (and how they’d climb him like a tree, because hello!) While he’s flattered, he sees the reader overhearing them, and she’s visibly annoyed/upset by it? Up to you if she calls them out on it, or spirals and says nothing, or whatever!

Ooooh thank you for this request, my friend!! ❤️❤️

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Warnings: 18+ only! A little smutty towards the end. 😘

Imagine: Getting jealous over this man. 💚

"My clothes are fine," Ben is still insisting, even as you hold up a crisp, black buttoned-down shirt up to his chest in scrutiny.

"You need more stuff in this decade, baby," you tell him. You just think he's taking issue with you picking things out for him.

He doesn't often like to relinquish control, but he's tacitly agreed that you just have a better sense of what's fashionable now. He doesn't mind standing out, but he doesn't want to look out of place either.

And as much as he'd never admit it, he wants to look good.

So you and Ben have been at the mall browsing for the past hour. Express for Men has some interesting finds; you already have a large pile of shirts, jackets, pants, and jeans set aside for him to try on.

Ben has strong opinions, especially on pants. He blatantly refuses skinny jeans, for which you begrudgingly concede. You have to pick your battles with your boyfriend, and this one's not the hill to die on, you think.

So you put down the tight pants in favor of some tasteful dark wash jeans. He eyes this pair also with wariness. "Why the fuck do they have holes in 'em?" he asks.

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. "They're ripped jeans."

"On purpose?" he asks.

Oh lord. "Yes, Ben. They're distressed."

"Christ on a cross, so am I. This is what goes for fashion nowadays?"

God, give me fucking strength, you think. But you still smile. "You're gonna look good, I promise you."

So Ben gathers the pile you've created for him, and with a deep sigh, he heads over to the dressing room. There are two saleswomen stationed there. One visibly breathes in at the sight of him as she subtly taps the other one on the hip. Both greet him with bright eyes and smiles. "Hi there! Need a room?" the first one asks.

"Yeah," Ben nods, and she dutifully lets him into the biggest one. It has a cushioned bench and plenty of hooks on the wall for hanging the shirts and pants.

"Need any help laying these out?" she asks. He shakes his head. "No. I'm good, sweetheart."

She giggles a bit, like he's said something funny. "Okay! Well just let me know if you need any help. Like a different size, different color, if you need a belt, or anything like that."

Ben spots her blush and can't help but smile at her indulgently. "Sure." He has no intention of taking her up on her "help," but he knows the effect he has on women. Once she leaves, he closes the dressing room door and starts trying things on.

He's surprised to find he actually likes a lot of what you picked out for him. But then his superior hearing picks up what the women out front are whispering to each other in excitement.

"Oh my God, it's a criminal offense to have that jawline," says the one who helped him. "And that beard? Cut to perfection."

Ben smirks, both in amusement and with a well of pride welling in his chest. Still got it, fuckers.

The other scoffs. "Honey, I'd climb that man like a goddamn tree."

They snicker together, trying and failing to be quiet. "He looks so familiar though, I swear to God."

"Psh. Maybe in your dreams," one teases. The other hums. "Well, he'll definitely be making an appearance tonight...maybe when I'm still awake." Ben raises a brow at that.

"Hmm, looks like he's got a girlfriend though. She picked out all that stuff for him."

He then perks up a bit at the mention of you.

"Ehh, come on. She's gotta be a sister or something. Look at her."

"Aww, don't do that. She's cute."

"Cute doesn't bag a man like that." The other one chortles in response.

Ben frowns. He knew women were petty, but this takes the fucking cake. You're a New York "10," even in your old sweatpants and a bare face.

"What-fucking-ever, bitch. I'm gonna slip him my number. See if he needs any further assistance." Cue more obnoxious giggling.

The other one chimes in. "Ooh, you're bad. But I'm here for it. Get your man, girl."

"Excuse me." Oh, shit. Ben's brows raise of their own accord. That was your voice.

"Yes," one of the saleswomen greets you more professionally.

"I just want to check on how my boyfriend's doing. He's in that room, right?" you ask. Ben hears your tone though. It's clipped, direct, and intentional. He knows then: you definitely heard those twittering broads.

"Yes, right back there," one of the women directs you.

"Thank you," you reply flatly.

Ben smirks as he hears your brusque steps approaching. He checks himself out in the mirror real quick (the white shirt and black pants are simple, but they go well with the black jacket, he thinks). Then he unlocks the door and opens it, right as you were about to knock.

You blink up at him with surprise, and the remnants of a frown.

He leans against the doorframe, looking down at you with a charming smile. "Hey there, beautiful."

Your lips start to form a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Hey." You take in his current outfit with interest and approval. "Ooh, I like this. You look good...how do you feel in it?"

"Good," Ben says, but his eyes are focused on you. "Come 'ere."

He takes you by surprise when his hand guides you inside the dressing room by the waist. He locks it behind you. You look up at him in askance. He grasps your chin and tilts your face up to him.

"What's the matter?" he asks knowingly.

You raise a brow at him, shaking your head. "Nothing. Come on, did you try on this other stuff?"

Ben keeps a stubborn grip on your chin, so you can't turn away from him. "Don't tell me you're letting those maneating bimbos get to you."

Your eyes go wide and you raise a finger to your lips, reminding him to keep it quiet, but he doesn't give two fucks about that. He sits down on the soft bench and pulls you down with him. You sit across his lap and give him a rueful smile, stroking his cheek.

"I'll let you in on a little secret though," Ben says. Your expression crosses between amusement and intrigue. He leans in close your ear. "Jealousy looks fucking hot on you."

You guffaw in response, playfully smacking his arm.

"Hey, easy on the jacket," he smirks, but he claims you with a kiss. His fingers go to the button on your jeans, undoing it and slowly, torturously, guiding down the zipper. You suck in a breath.

"Ben, we can't," you say. But you're already moaning softly in his ear when his thick fingers begin to rub your pussy through your underwear. You blush at the naughtiness of this, even though the thought just turns you on even more.

He soon moves your panties aside to find your wet, soft heat.

You grip his hair tight, trying to bite your lip against a gasp as his fingers enter you, and begin to pulse inside. Your lower belly coils with heat, especially when his thumb finds your clit.

"We're paying customers," he says, with a deepening smirk. "We can do whatever we damn well please."

At the moment, you find it hard to argue with his logic.

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @romaka344 @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @ades106 @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fabimaou

[hiskillingjar]

Forcefem (All/MC)

forcefem you will always be famous. sorry for being quiet for the last few days, i was being a social butterfly for halloween, so uhhhh kink first week of november be upon ye.

day 28: forcefem second person. same mc in strade’s section as these fics (cis male) and cw for genital mutilation aftermath, this oc in law’s section (trans female). general cw for misgendering, but uh. kind of the nature of the beast, ennit?

ren 🦊

"Come on, stop crying! It's not that big a deal!"

"It's not a big deal?!" You shouted through your tears, trying to wipe them away with the heels of your hands, but more just kept coming, somehow more rapidly the more you tried to stop them. "Y-You ruined my binder, Ren! Do you have any idea how big a deal that is?!"

Ren looked almost annoyed, petulant like a teenager, huffing in irritation at your tears. 

"Jesus, you're acting like I just burned down your house." He complained with a roll of his eyes. "It's just clothes. Stop being so damn sensitive."

"It's not dumb," You said with a big sniff, looking again at the shredded tatters of spandex and cotton that used to be your chest binder. When you owned so little anymore, anything that was taken away felt like an attack on your very personhood. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

Your tears can’t have been for any other reason. Surely. 

"A-And I'm not being sensitive, either." You added indignantly. “Anyone would be upset by something of theirs being…ruined…”

"Whatever, you're still acting stupid over nothing." He said, his voice idling and drawling, as he paced closer towards you, before reaching down and pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger, to force you to look up at him. "Besides...it didn't even fit you anymore. None of your clothes do now." He gave you a sharp smile, mean and spiteful. "You've gained weight~"

"Well, obviously I've gained weight," You said with a grimace, jerking your face away from his touch and pushing away his hand. "You don't let me outside to run or let me go to the gym. And all the carbs you're feeding me, it's no wonder..."

"What? You complaining about how I've been feeding you, now? Could you get anymore ungrateful?" He said as he squatted down to your level, smirking at your grimace and his tail wagging behind him, evidently finding your pain amusing. "Besides...what good is a pretty little thing like you, being all skinny and muscled, anyway? You’d look wayyyy better all soft and sweet."

"Don't call me pretty," You said quite quickly, giving him another glare (trying to stop another batch of tears running down your face). "I-I'm not...w-whatever you're trying to do, stop it. It's not funny."

"Oh, don't be like that." He said with an amused smirk, crossing his arms over his chest and pressing them into his bent knees. "You're pretty sweet when you want to be, and cute as a button, and a bit shy; you’re the perfect girl, if you let yourself be."

He shifted onto his knees completely then, pressing himself closer to you as he straddled your thighs and sat in your lap, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"And a complete emotional wreck, too, hah! Just like a real girl!"

"Ren, I mean it," You said, your tone warning in spite of the new batch of tears rolling down your flaming cheeks. "D-Don't call me a girl."

"Why not?" He tilted his head, giving you an almost innocent look, widening his eyes and blinking them coyly. "You're pretty, delicate, sensitive...all you need is a better haircut and you'd be the perfect girlfriend.” His innocent look split into a teasking smirk, showing off wet fangs. “So damn cute, even while crying."

"I'm not fucking-" You took in another gasp as he pressed his body up against yours, one of his hands sinking into the (overgrown) back of your hair, his own brushing against your wet cheek and neck as he scented you. "I'm not your girlfriend...nhh."

"I mean, yeah, obviously not yet. I don't date tomboys like you." He tittered cruelly as the hand in your hair pulled your head back again, forcing you to look up at him as he leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. "I like girls that actually know how to be girls, you know, instead of trying to pretend otherwise. Dresses, make-up, cute stuff like that. You're gonna have to get way less butch if you wanna be my girlfriend."

"I don't want to be your fucking girlfriend!" You shouted through a new batch of tears, trying to tighten your body again when he slid his knee between your thighs and pressed it against the front of your jogging bottoms.

"You will, trust me." He said with another cold smile. He then moved his free hand down to your hip (spilling over the waistband of your bottoms), the sharp points of his claws digging into your skin as he leaned in even closer to you, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I mean, none of your actual clothes fit you anymore, with all that weight you gained...so, I'll have to get you new stuff that'll fit what I want from you, from now on...hm!" His smile turned more playful as he let out another titter. "Funny how stuff works that way, huh?"

"Nnff..." You bit your lip, feeling more tears hit your neck. "Why are you doing this to me..."

He reached up to wipe some of the tears from your chin, a cruel smile forming on his features as he did so. 

"Because I want to. Becuase I can." He leaned in closer, lips gently tracing your tear-streaked cheeks. "Besides, I'm being nice, really. I'm taking really good care of you. I feed you, I make sure you don't go anywhere, I'm even offering to get you some new clothes...don't you like being with me?"

"I hate being with you," You said, eyes fluttering shut as his lips traced your jaw.

"That's not fair." He complained with a pout to his voice, his teeth grazing your skin as he left kisses down your neck (what wasn’t concealed by the collar, anyway). "You don't even give me a chance. We get along, don't we? We have fun...sometimes at least..."

He shifted on top of you, then, the knee between your legs pressing harder against you, forcing a small gasp out of you as the pressure made your core light up and twist, painfully. 

His lips brushed against your chin, inching up so he could speak directly into your ear.

"You definitely have fun when I touch you.” He whispered. “Or do you think I don't notice how you react when I touch you like this?"

"I...nhhh," You bit your lip harder, thighs attempting to squeeze around his knee and stop him from making you feel good. 

His words were certainly at odds with his actions, much like your discomfort was at hideous odds with your burgeoning arousal. 

"W-What, you don't want to do this with a boy...?" You stammered between gasps. “What’s…s-so wrong with that?

"You still don't get it, do you?"

Ren pulled his head back to look you in the eyes, the grip on your hair relenting for a second so that he could grab the back of your collar, like he was holding the scruff of a kitten.

You cringed internally at your own demeaning comparison.

"You're not a boy.” He asserted, raising his brows. “You're not even a girl, not really. You're just mine." He pressed more pressure against your crotch and moved it, up and down, stimulating you even more, watching intently as you moaned, brokenly, and started to tremble underneath him.

"And I'll do whatever I want with you."

law 🥀

"You're so, so pretty, Law,"

You murmured lowly, pressing your lips to the back of Lawrence's neck as you carded your fingers through their long, blonde hair, still wet from the shower and newly sleek from the conditioner you had paid a little extra for than usual.

"Mm, your hair smells good, too.” You added with a gentle (if slightly teasing) smile. “It's nice when you take the time to look after it, huh?”

Lawrence shivered, their hands clenched tightly between their skinny thighs, and leaned back against you, a soft moan leaving their lips. The tips of their ears had turned a faint pink (they didn’t go red, they just went pink), and they looked back at you, a shy smile on their face.

"I...suppose so," They breathed out with a nervous little chuckle, trembling as your touch grazed over their shoulders.

"Do you not believe me?" You asked with a grin, moving closer to their naked body, lips trailing down the sharp, curved slope of their spine, down each notch of bone protruding through their skin. "Do you not believe you're pretty...or, mm,” You left kisses in your wake, holding them tight. “That it's nice to treat yourself nice?”

"I...I believe you," They breathed out with a shudder and another moan, leaning back against you, their body still trembling involuntarily as they talked. "I...believe that I'm pretty. Or, I mean, mm, if you say I am." They added in a coy mumble and another chuckle.

"Right,” You drawled with a huff and a shake of your head. “Well, if that's the case…” You added softly, moving you hands to the front of their naked chest and touching them, groping flesh that wasn't there (thought it was easy to pretend otherwise, especially when they were so eager about it too). “Do you believe me if I say how pretty of a girl you make?" 

Lawrence inhaled sharply, another shudder running through their body as you touched them. They arched their back against your chest, pushing themself up and towards your touch. 

Their eyes were closed, their breathing shaky and uneven, another soft moan leaving their lips.

"Y-yes...I believe you…” They murmured, thighs clenching together even tighter, stopping them from moving their hands and touching you, too..

"Good girl," You murmured, a slight smile pressed into Lawrence's skin as the pad of your thumb traced over their nipple, squeezing lightly. "So...would you prefer to wear one of my dresses tonight? Or just your skirt?”

They leaned into your touch with a sort of neediness that you adored, like a plant leaning towards the sun, like they craved every little bit of attention and affection you gave them. 

They tried to speak, but only a strangled and shaky gasp left their lips, the words failing to form at all.

"....one of your dresses…” They barely managed to stammer.

You smiled even broader, leaving the bite of teeth at the nape of their neck, a little red mark left behind on their pale skin in the shape of some kind of demented kiss, before you stood up and paced towards their closet, which you had been gradually moving some of your clothes into over the last couple of weeks.

You were here so often, it made plenty of sense for them to be there.

From there, you produced a silky night dress, black and low cut, lace trimming the hem and low, plunging neckline. It was too short on you, so it would barely cover Lawrence at all.

You licked your lips.

Lawrence was just sitting on the bed, their long legs over the side of it, watching you, their sea-glass eyes following you to and from the closet, like a dog with a steak in front of it. 

They never could stop looking at you. It was as if every motion you made captivated them.

It made you feel sexy and desired. 

You probably hadn't felt that, at least not properly, until you met Lawrence.

"Stand up," You said, in the low, quasi demending tone of a teacher as you approached the bed again. “And step forward so I can get behind you.”

Lawrence immediately obeyed, a tight swallow making their Adam’s apple bob harshly underneath their pale throat, standing up from the bed and waiting, obediently, for your next instruction, their body shivering in anticipation.

"Good girl," You praised with another broad smile, before stepping closer to Lawrence and removing the dress from the hanger. "Because that's what you are, isn't it, baby?”

Another soft, involuntary shudder ran through Lawrence's body.

You hadn't realised just how much they thrived off of your praise and attention, how much they craved it, before you started doing this sort of thing with them. But now that you knew, you took every opportunity to make them feel good, just to see those shudders and shakes, and the desperate expression on their pretty face.

"Yes…” Law nodded hesitantly as you stepped closer to them, their voice a low whisper.

"Tell me what you are, Law," You instructed again, pacing behind them and guiding their arms above their head, your own fingers wrapped around their wrists.

“I’m, mm…” Lawrence lifted their arms, their hands trembling as your fingers traced over each stark vein (each gruesome scar) standing against their skin. "I'm a good girl…”

"Mm, there’s much more than that though, isn't there?" You asked, pressing another light  kiss to their shoulder as you pulled the dress over their head and watched as the cool, black silk slid down, covered their lanky body. "You're a girl now, even if you weren't mine at all. Isn’t that right?”

"I'm...I'm a girl..." They repeated back to you, their arms held above their head (you hadn’t told them to put them down you, they were so obedient, such a good girl),  their voice still a soft whisper, almost as if they were making a confession, just for you to hear.

"And you like being a girl," You reached around their body again, running your fingers over their chest again, feeling for the minute little bumps of their nipples pressed up against the tight fabric. "Even if you tried to argue otherwise, when we first me...it just took me seeing who you really were, who you were hiding…didn’t it, sweet girl?”

Another soft moan left Lawrence's trembling lips as your hands slid over their chest, caressing each sensitive spot to the peak of their arousal. They closed their eyes, their body trembling with each gentle touch as their arms folded down so their palms could support their head, heavy with arousal. They pushed themself back against you, as best they could, seeking you out, desperate to be close to you.

It felt good to be needed so intensely.

"I...I like being a girl..." They repeated again, a little quieter than before, another shaky gasp leaving their lips.

"Yeah? Does it turn you on to be a girl?" You asked, your tone sickeningly cloying as your hands, long fingers, bony knuckles, just like theirs, (you had so much in common, more than you’d have with anyone else, truly) reached into the breast cups of the dress and touched them, skin to skin. "Does it make you feel good?”

"Y-yes..." They gasped out as your hands roved over them, their breaths shaky and uneven and just a little bit needier, needing to be touched and played with. "Yes it does…”

"Say the words, Law," You murmured, pressing a kiss to their ear, your hips pressing against their buttocks, the bars of your cock cage rubbing against the silky nightdress.

Their breaths were getting shorter and shorter, and more shaky with each passing second, each touch of your hands and your lips against their neck, their shoulders, making them more and more desperate for you. Their heart was pounding fast under your palm, and their voice was a needy, quivering whisper as they obeyed.

"...It turns me on...to be a girl.”

"Very good, Law," You praised, squeezing their chest one more time before reaching down and sliding the front of the dress upwards, revealing the hard length of their cock, protruding almost comically from between their legs. 

"You almost make me feel like I'm not forcing it out of you~”

strade 🔨

“Going to the chapel, and we’re, gonna get married~”

You took in a shuddering gasp as the stained corset was laced tight around your waist, the white silk sullied with dotted fingerprints of blood, like some perverted bastardisation of the sanctity marriage was supposed to stand for. 

The dress, with its lace, crushed velvet, and big sleeves, was a relic of the eighties that reminded you of your mother (would you ever see her again? Could she bear to look at you now, if you did?). It was too big on you, hence the corset to cinch it in and the high heels to pull the skirts off the grubby, basement floor.

It smelled like a thrift store. It was a welcome change to the smell of blood.

“My, my, don't you look lovely?”

A voice cut through your dark thoughts, his voice (sadist, devil, monster), as he pulled the corset a notch tighter (staining the ribbons red as he did it), hooking his chin over the puffy shoulder of the wedding dress as you gasped and wheezed, trying to catch your breath when it felt like it was being choked out of you.

“You look lovely in white, liebchen,” He teased, a shit-eating smile audible in his voice, like it always was. "Mm, well, red and white. I'm sure we'll be able to get those stains out, though."

"The corset," You wheezed slightly, placing trembling palms against the silk and steel boning, as he tied the final knot at the small of your back to keep it in place. "T-Too tight..."

Strade chuckled in response, his breath hot on your ear, before he grabbed your hips and pulled you back against him, his arms encircling your cinched waist (making you wheeze all the more) as he leaned in, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to your cheek.

"Are you telling me you'd prefer your wedding dress to be loose, my lovely bride?" He teased. "You'd prefer if it was ready to just...fall right off you?"

"That's not what I, nh," You groaned as his lips moved down to your neck, where the high neck of the dress was hiding your shock collar. "That's not what I meanttt..."

Strade continued to kiss and bite along the edge of your neck, marking your skin with purple and red lovebites, his eager hands roaming across your trembling body to explore every inch of you, every inch of the body that he had constructed for you.

"Are you already that eager to start the honeymoon phase, liebchen?" He teased, nipping your ear, his hips (and the stirrings of an erection) pressing against your backside through the layers of silk and tulle and lace. "My, my...such an impatient bride~"

"Mm..." You trembled even more, the cheap high heels barely enough to keep you upright, feeling the odd stirrings of deeply nonconsenting arousal settle in your core. 

Since he had mutilated you behind reproach, arousal didn't feel the same, feeling, instead, painful and twisting, like you had an ache at the very centre of yourself.

You wondered if women felt that way all the time. 

You wondered if they hated their arousal, as much as you did.

His lips lingered at the nape of your neck, his arms winding even tighter around your waist as he held you close, his lips travelling up your jaw and to your overgrown hairline, his breath hot  as h whispered into your ear.

"Mmm, why are you shaking so much, sweetness?" He hummed lowly, his tongue tracing along the shell of your ear (making you shudder and cringe), as his hands wandered downwards, tracing along the edge of your corset, the edge of your dress. "Are you not excited for our wedding night? I hope you’re not getting cold feed, I’d be crushed!"

"It's not a wedding though, is it?" You said, squeezing your eyes shut as he gathered up the skirts of the dress, exposing cheap, costume store stockings that hung loosely around your scarred thighs. "A wedding is supposed to be sacred...special..."

“What, you don’t consider this sacred?” He asked, the callouses of his fingers tracing over the raised skin of your scars, making you hiss and shudder in his arms, inching closer and closer to the cheap lingerie set that covered the metal cup bolted to your ruined crotch, mangled and messy, best to be hidden away. 

"There's nothing sacred about this," You breathed out. "This is...disgusting. I'm disgusting..."

“No no no,” He murmured with a slightly scolding tone, his lips on your pale cheek as he pressed his palm against the cup, stimulating nothing but reminding you what he did to you. “You’re not disgusting, liebchen,” He breathed against your temple, his own crotch warm and hard, only getting more excited. “Just unique. You’re perfect for me, my lovely bride.” 

He grinned against your cheek, sharp, cannibal teeth ready to bite down and mangle you even more. 

“My sweet little monster.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. 

A monster. A twisted bride of Frankenstein, created out of some ruined lust and forced to live in a body that would never be yours again.

You would have cried for a thousand days, if you had any tears left inside of you, anything at all but disgust and shame for your mangled body.

You let out a dry sob, looking down at the cement floor, hugging yourself tight.

“No need to be so upset,” He murmured into your skin, his hands reaching back to gather the skirts of the dress up, slowly revealing your buttocks.”I’m here, I’m right here…”

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" You suddenly screamed like a dying animal, yanking yourself away from his arms in a rare moment of hysterical defiance, almost stumbling in your high heels as you threw yourself across the basement, just to get away from him. “DON’T EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!”

“Woah!”

Strade stumbled backward at the force of your sudden movement, his hands held up in surprise and a look of shock on his face. 

"D-Don't...touch me..." You said again, swallowing down your rage as you looked down at yourself, at the stained lace, the velvet, the ill-fitting dress forced to fit your gangly body. "God," You moaned, reaching up and covering your face with your hands, eyes suddenly full of tears that you thought you’d never shed again. "Oh god, oh god...I can’t do this…I can’t, I won’t…"

"Now, now," Strade's voice was gentle albeit stern, as he slowly took a step closer to you, his hands still raised like he was approaching a feral cat. "Calm down. I know you're frightened. You've been through a lot...I'm not so far removed that I don't understand that."

You peered at him through your trembling fingers, not moving away when he took your shoulders in hand, his touch characteristically warm and worryingly comforting.

"It's okay," He murmured, pulling you against his chest, his broad, masculine frame enclosing you, small and almost feminine in contrast, in his embrace, wrapping his large arms around your slender, yet broken form. "You're allowed to be scared. You're allowed to be lost...I'm here. It's okay. You're safe."

You knew you were anything but safe. But it made you feel better, just to hear it.

"Please don't hurt me," You breathed out, pressing your face against his chest. "Please...I'll take all of this, I will...j-just don't hurt me again…”

"Shhh, shhh," His hand gently stroked through your unwashed hair as he held you, rocking you slowly in his arms, like he was comforting a real wife. "You're being so good, liebchen, so good. I won't hurt you, I promise. I'm not going to hurt you.” His palm cupped the back of your skull, keeping you pinned against his body. “You're my good girl, my beautiful bride. That's all I need you to be. Good. Obedient. And mine."

Your expression twisted a little, the shameful surge of arousal shooting through you again.

Had he ruined you, both body and mind? 

Or had you always been like this, somewhere, deep down?

You didn’t want to think about that, if you could help it.

"Okay...okay. I’ll…be good."