#not specifically mentioned but i talked about weight and body image

[heegyukeluv]

the devil wears prada (sjy)

pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: As Sim Jaeyun stepped out of Prada’s after party, everyone ignored his goodbyes to the sea of paparazzis, because the buzz was about the lucky person who got to disheveled his hair. Jake’s honest answer for that was: the devil. And she for sure wears Prada.

my's note: i love how everyone saw Jake’s after-party photos and thought the same thing (i'm everyone). disheveled hair jake after-party prada that’s all. and i just realized i don’t know how to write a quickie lol enjoy <3 (please take into consideration this is a work of fiction, this doesn't represents the artist's image)

warnings: SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, quickie but not really, public (?) bathroom sex, mirror sex, reader is quite dom with jake (i can't help myself), mention of alcohol. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 5.4k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

The air was thick with the scent of luxury – champagne and expensive perfumes mingling with the buzz of the conversations in every corner of the room.

You had your back leaning against the marble counter of the bar, fingers nonchalantly tracing the edge of your vibrant drink and eyes drifting through the sea of people. Everyone was dressed to impress, each guest showcasing their creativity through Prada’s clothes, accessories and shoes.

Working in the fashion industry came with perks, and being invited to exclusive after-parties was undoubtedly the best one. So you weren’t a stranger to this world. The glamourist atmosphere, the music playing as a soft background, the dim lights casting a perfect blend of elegance and casualness over the place.

It made your body shiver with joy, fulfillment at its most filling your chest, as the surroundings seemed to confirm what you already knew: you were in the right place – your place.

Earlier, at the main event, you watched the showcase with sparkling eyes, recording specific moments to use later as inspiration for your own creativity process. You loved how free you could be with your ideas while doing your work, not to mention the possibility of adding tons of yourself to it. Some might call it an egoistic behavior, as if your job existed solely for your own satisfaction. But the creation was yours, so why shouldn’t the outcome be about you too?

You took another sip of your drink, your sharp gaze scanning the room.

As soon as you stepped at the after-party, many other designers and some artists approached to compliment both your visual and your work, and you confidently talked with them. Yet, coming not from one, but from a few of them, there was an underlying tone; their praises were not solely aimed at your outfit or your impeccable creations, but rather an attempt to carve a path to your heart – or, perhaps, under your dress.

You never denied you had a good appearance. Together with your sense of style and your fearless demeanor, you enchanted anyone who crossed your way. The badass woman aura you exhaled was almost palpable and extremely hot for those who watched – with heart and lustful eyes – as you passed by.

Despite the usual lingering intense gazes on you, far from feeling intimidated or even shy by them, there was one pair of eyes burning deeper, piquing your curiosity as you kept on searching for its owner. 

It was like you every motion was being captured by them, following you across the room, and no matter how many conversations you effortlessly maneuvered through, all you could feel was the constant, intense weight of the said gaze.

After one more drink and some uninterested noddings at the guy who took place near you at the bar, you finally found him.

Sitting on the middle sofas of the main room, drink in hand, together with his group, devil eyes staring at you shamelessly, biting his lip and looking extremely hot as doing so.

You quirked an eyebrow in his direction, not even bothering to follow the bla-bla-bla coming from the random guy anymore, his words sounding like nothing to you at that point.

Especially because the attractive man looking at you didn’t even flinch after getting caught, as if it was the purpose from the beginning. If anything, he deepened eye contact in a daring, cocky manner, almost challenging you to react over the tension that started to hang in the air between you two.

Unlucky to him, you weren’t the type to follow anyone’s lead but yours, so you simply let out a soft scoff, a smirk tugging at your lips as you deliberately took another sip of your drink without breaking the new unspoken game – the one you were sure you would win.

You observed closely how he drifted his gaze away from yours just to blatantly check you out, stopping on your bare thighs for a moment before doing the same on your exposed chest, the neckline of your dress giving the perfect bait for men like him.

He shifted on his seat, gulping and then assaulting his lower lip with his teeth once more, as if trying to contain himself from running all the way to you, just to undress you properly instead of keep on doing that with his glare. 

You would be lying if you said that his demeanor wasn’t helping to ignite the fire from your core to your entire body, skin heating with a hint of desire. Even so, you waited patiently.

The random designer talking to you was long gone already, though you barely noticed, unnecessarily engrossed in your little game.

With a subtle, innocent tilt of your chin, you motioned your head slowly as a signal, beckoning him to come closer, without breaking eye contact. The simple gesture caught him off guard; his confident atmosphere stumbling to keep itself up, eyes growing wide in surprise, and you found it irresistibly adorable.

The corner of your lips curled when he stood up after whispering something to one of his friends, who quickly glanced at you and then showed a small smile. You finished your drink as he made his way over, his steps relaxed, but his eyes avoiding yours. You almost chuckled at the endearing scene.

As he approached, you noticed how young he seemed to be, perhaps even younger than you. Not to mention his incredible inebriating fragrance and self beauty – the plump pink lips and the high bridge nose perfectly sculpted doing things to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, eyes straightaway dropping to your exposed neckline, lingering on the curve of your chest.

You leaned in just slightly, making sure he got a better view, batting your lashes with a sly smile. “Hey.”

Without asking for your preference, he ordered two drinks. You decided to let it slide for now – being surprised could be fun every now and then, and maybe accepting his drinks could be one of the keys to get something more.

“You’ve been turning heads all night.” He finally said after a while, the hot, aussie accent didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your body heat increased as an immediate response. 

As you tilted your head slightly, letting a small smile play on your lips, you smoothly replied with faux innocence. “Have I?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, thanking the bartender for the drink as he handed you one, oblivious of the rhetorical question. Your smile widened. “Can I know your name?”

“Y/N,” you politically extended your hand, eyes sharp on his face. His grip was hesitant, and the moment your fingers touched, an unexpected jolt of electricity shot through your body. You suppressed a slight shiver.

“Jake,” he introduced himself, caring little to nothing about showing how affected he got just by feeling your soft palm on his.

His breath hitched, getting caught on his throat as his eyes darkened. He couldn’t help but think about how your touch would feel elsewhere on his body.

The excitement flooded your chest instantly, you had to hold back yourself because you realized that if you wanted – and you so did – those perfect lips would be attached to yours in no time, and if you were lucky enough, they would be exploring other parts of your body as well.

“Nice meeting you, Jake.” You murmured, pronouncing his name with your most velvety voice, slowly pulling your hand away to grab your drink from the counter, sipping it.

Jake tracked your deliberate movements, wetting his slightly parted lips when he saw your red lipstick staining on the glass edge, utterly in disbelief he simply discovered someone who definitely came out from his wettest dreams, who would turn the smallest, innocent gesture into something sensual.

Even the simple act of blinking in his direction seemed meticulously calculated to make it hard to resist your advances, fueling the growing tightness inside his pants.

Not to mention how sexy his name rolled out of your beautifully tinted lips. 

Jake leaned his arms on the marble counter, turning his head to keep on watching you, as if your presence were an alluring, tempting show, happening right in front of his eyes just to damage his weak heart.

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He blurted out shamelessly, shattering the ‘cool’ facade he was trying to maintain under your intense gaze.

There was something about how sincere, seductive, and yet, desperate he sounded, as if his greatest longing in life was to have you right away. You were enjoying that guy so much so far. 

“I’ve noticed,” you chuckled with your eyes brimming with flirtation, shifting between his plush, kissable lips and his desire-filled orbs. “And are you planning to keep just looking?”

Jake blinked, momentarily taken aback with your quick and direct response. Although you had an obvious confident aura radiating through your pores, he definitely didn't expect you to be so straight to the point, thinking he would have to ease things a bit more.

And honestly? He found your vibe more exciting than he would like to admit. 

“I guess that depends on what you want,” he answered, voice dropping a tone, trying to match the energy you exuded.

Ignoring the chills running through your spine by his low murmur, you softly chuckled and leaned back against the bar, gaze still locked with his.

“Oh, Jake,” you teasingly cooed, grinning, with your voice dripping with amusement, “I always get what I want.”

It was visibly apparent how your words ignited something on his body, perking up in anticipation while his eyes deepened and his jaw clenched; if you looked close enough, you would see the slight bulge in his crotch area. 

Jake straightened his posture, finishing his drink in one go without breaking eye contact, hooded eyelids offering you the most magnetic sight you saw that night until that moment.

Then he leaned in closer, the tension between you two increasing with every heartbeat. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he whispered in your ear, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face.

As he walked towards the restroom area, his confident stride only added to the thrill. Men would be promising you the best night of your life just to leave you hanging and dealing with your situation alone. However, Jake seemed to exude an air of boldness blended perfectly with devotion, making a rush of anticipation bubbling in your core.

You let out a small laugh, not even caring about finishing your drink. The thrilling game had just started and you were so ready to play.

Jake’s lips tasted like heaven. And fancy liquor.

His hands were everywhere, but mainly on your ass and neck, his desperation evident by the way he pressed your back into the cold wall, sucking your lips as if his life depended on it.  

After following his traces, feigning indifference as best as you could to the open public, it took mere seconds before you felt his strong grasp on your hips guiding you into the bathroom – fortunately, they had private, separated spaces, making it easier for the two of you to steal as much privacy as the party allowed.

You could hear the muffled hum of the songs playing as a background, merging with the lewd sounds from the messy, hungry kiss you both shared and the soft groans rumbling from Jake’s throat as well.

Just minutes ago your plans were completely different; just some kisses and calling it a night, definitely not imagining things going further than that. However, the way Jake’s mouth skilfully moved against yours made you wonder how good it would feel in other places of your body, like in between your legs, and you just had to give it a chance.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, barely breaking the contact, lips already swollen and reddened due to your lipstick and your not so gentle bites. 

You hummed in response, unable to form proper words about how amazing of a job he was doing just by kissing you. 

Your fingers tangled in his silky brown hair, tugging without restraint because you quickly realized how much Jake liked it. He moaned, lips parting against yours with the intensity of the pull, your hazed gaze catching a quick glimpse of his eyes rolling back – an extremely devilish view.

Although stumbling a bit, Jake managed to easily place you at the edge of the sink’s counter by lifting you firmly gripping your thighs, the feeling alone making you wince as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support.

The room seemed to shrink as your breaths quickened, the boiling sensation bubbling in your stomach as you anticipated for more of his intense, heated, passionate touches. 

Jake, just as breathless, decided to assault the flesh of your neck and exposed collarbone, getting drunk on your scent and softness as he did so, loving how you tilted your head just enough to give him some more access to explore.

A soft moan escaped your lips and your fingers tightened on his hair when he nibbled your sensitive spot, close to your earlobe, sending jolts of electricity directly to your pussy.

You could feel a smirk creeping into his mouth, right before he questioned teasingly, slowly sucking the area. “Do you like that?”

You fought to keep your composure, a soft smile threatening to break through as the heat blossomed in your core. His breath tickled your skin, deliberately waiting for your answer while igniting every inch of you by keeping on playing on that spot. 

The first reaction you gave was another moan together with your nails digging on his shoulders and scratching his scalp. Then you admitted, still struggling to hold yourself back. “Fuck, yes. I do.” 

Jake cooed at you, gently pulling away from the curve of your neck to study your dazed expression; lips agape releasing heavy breaths, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink and eyes half-lidded, fluttering slowly, still dripping in the same confidence you once carried, as if even under his lead you were the one commanding.

“You look hot and messy, and I haven’t even started yet.” Jake teased, a playful smile gracing his lips as he pressed them against yours again.

“Do you always talk that much?” You murmured, not quite intending to judge his demeanor, but a bit annoyed and amused by how he appeared to need to hear you frequently while savoring you. 

“Only when I'm nervous.” Jake answered honestly with an awkward chuckle, helping you to remove his jacket, which landed straight on the ground and he couldn’t care less.  

“Oh, do I make you nervous Jakey?” You smirked, thirsting over his now exposed veiny arms. 

Watching Jake’s cheeks being painted with a faint blush while he swallowed hard under your sharp gaze, clearly getting flustered, brought back the control you thought was lost. 

“Maybe a little,” Jake tried to play it cool, but his voice came out smaller than he expected, and he tried to avoid facing you by leaning to kiss you again.

A glint of mischief sparkled in your eyes when you noticed he was losing his composure. You kindly held his head still, forcing him to keep his gaze on you. “Aw, come on, Jakey. Don’t shy away now,” you said, a smooth voice layered with playfulness and a sultry, almost mocking undertone. “You haven’t even started yet, isn’t that right?” 

Jake nearly moaned when he heard your words, not because of them itself but by how hot you sounded. His cock throbbed painfully inside his pants, his underwear probably stained with his leaking precum at that point. 

Jake got fooled at some moment by thinking he was the one in charge, even provoking you while exploring your desires initially, but the reality was that he had been following your lead like a lost puppy all along. 

There was something about how confident and dominant you seemed to be since the beginning, not faltering a single moment to his boldness, and somehow you carried that still, assuming the control gracefully, as if it was your job. And Jake was very grateful for you doing so.

His eyes softened and his breath hitched. 

“Tell me, what do you want from me?” The question slipped from his plush, beautiful lips, laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability without much cohesive thinking, clouded mind craving to satisfy you, because that meant his own fulfillment. “I wanna give you everything.”

Devoting to a devilish goddess like you was a tempting surrender he was eager to embrace.

You felt a pulse straight in your clit and your cheeks heating, the weight of his desperate words triggering your following behavior.

Jake saw the way your face brightened up, realizing he had opened the hell’s gate and he was eager to enter – if you were the personification of the devil, he was more than willing to drown into your lustful, tempting sea of sins. 

“What do I want from you?” You echoed, an amused grin curling the corner of your lips as your eyes traced Jake’s attractive features, pausing on his perfectly sculpted high-bridged nose, accompanied just below by his tasteful lips. You smiled, caressing it with your thumb. “I want them. Eat me out.” 

Jake’s breath got caught on his throat and his eyes grew in a slight surprise, not only due to your bold, straightforward request, but mainly because the idea of having your pussy in full display for him to play sounded too dreamy.

“Are you sure?” He asked in a low, contained voice, struggling to keep down his excitement, biting his lower lip, aiming to confirm he wasn’t going insane.

“I know what I want, Jake.” You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow. “And you?”

Jake’s eyes immediately dropped to your chest and then your bare thighs. The dress had ridden up due to the position so he was able to see a hint of your laced, black panties. He wet his lips, mouth watering while he lowered enough to bend comfortably and be eye level with your cunt.

You watched, fascinated by how in trance he seemed to be, as though your final word was the cue for him to dive into you completely. 

Your stomach fluttered in anticipation as you propped yourself up to help Jake slide your panties down your legs, gentle hands caressing your smooth skin as he did so. Then he grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, shooting you a quick glance and smile before burying his face between your legs, the smell of your pussy intoxicating his senses. 

He first gave it a small, slow kitty-lick, testing the waters, then frowned in pleasure, groaning with your delicious taste dissolving on his tongue.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips and you quickly pursed them to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, fighting the urge of allowing yourself to let go so easily. One of your hands searched for support on the edge of the counter and the other held on tight to Jake’s hair.

Jake gave a long, savoring lick, finishing with a delectable, lewd sucking noise in your clit, as if he was starting to make out with your pussy. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut, your limbs feeling like jelly as a wave of weakness coursed through you.

His hot muscle started to work faster, steadier and precise in between your folds, your entrance and your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving each of them the right amount of attention.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you moaned shakily, unable to keep it low. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you threw your head back, unconsciously waving your body towards his face, practically griding on it.

Jake moaned with your praise, skilfully shaking his head whenever he flickered his tongue in your hole, just to rub your clit with his nose, before moving back to suck on it, entirely immersed on his duty to please you.

He was on cloud nine. 

Your taste flooding his senses, your body reacting to his stimulus, heating up and shivering under his precise touch, your pretty moans filling up the space straight into his ears, like angels singing – though he was sure you were a devil in disguise. 

Every noise coming from your throat was sending a rush of electricity directly into his dick, not to mention how your cunt became wetter and wetter with the lewd mixture of his own saliva and your arousal. Jake could die that moment and would be happy with it.

Reading the way your breathing grew heavy and feeling how you clenched around the tip of his tongue, Jake deduced you were near to the edge.

“I’m close–” You whispered, confirming his theory.

The knot on your stomach tightened when Jake began to focus mainly on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, eager for your release – perhaps more than you. “I’m really close, Jak–”

Your arms nearly failed to keep yourself up as your orgasm hit, a long moan falling from your mouth interrupting your warning, your spine arching with the euphoria wave and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your juices coated Jake’s tongue, who took all of it proudly; you hissed feeling his mouth still working on your sensitive cunt, and you pulled him away by his hair.

Without a word Jake brought his lips to yours, making you taste yourself still hazy minded after your strucking climax. You groaned, slowly starting to move your hips to get down from the counter, Jake unconsciously helping you through it by supporting your weight until your heels landed on the floor. 

You lightly pushed Jake’s chest to move him away, meeting his dazed expression, one that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his veins. You grabbed the hem of his black shirt, quietly asking for him to remove it. And he did without hesitation.

"Fuck me," you demanded, taking a glimpse of his beautiful toned abs, a bit out of breath and even needier now. "Fuck me and watch you doing it through this mirror."

Jake flashed a quick grin, still recovering from the smothering and delightful feeling of being in between your legs, before fumbling with his belt, hands frantic undoing the button of his pants to slide them down.

You took your sweet time to thirst over the outline of his covered, extremely hard length, interrupting his actions by gripping his wrist, savoring the moment as you licked your lips, mouth watering.

“It’s a shame we cannot take much longer,” you started, fauxing innocence as you stepped closer just enough to touch him over his white boxers. A small, provocative chuckle coming from your throat before you murmured. “Really wanted to feel you in my mouth.” And then you kissed the corner of his parted lips.

Jake whimpered when you softly squeezed his neglected dick, leaning closer to you instinctively, holding onto the edge of the counter behind you while resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, where he pressed his lips a few times until reaching your earlobe, nibbling. 

Your sneaky hands entered the hem of his clothing piece to jerk him off; your teasing, deliberate moves were driving him insane. The way your warm palm rubbed his sensitive tip made his groans increase just as much as his pulse, and he moaned a bit louder when you finally freed his aching dick out of his boxers by pushing them down, allowing your hand to pump his shaft easier. 

With closed eyes, you enjoyed the waves of pleasure going down, directly to your cunt, making you wet again by hearing Jake’s sultry noises and hot breath brushing against your ear.

Your lips grazed along his jawline at the same time you threatened your fingers through his slightly dampened hair, disheveling it even more before pulling it away from the curve of your neck, so you could capture his mouth in a slow, passionate kiss.

"Condom?" You asked under breath after parting away from his mouth, slowing your hand on his dick. You noticed his body tensing right after your question, eyes growing wide in panic, which piqued your curiosity.

There’s no way he…

"Shit, I didn't bring–"

You let out a soft scoff, part laughter, part disbelief. Without missing a beat, your hands resumed their movement, this time teasing him by randomly stopping, repeating the motion a few times. His moans grew louder, hips bucking desperately against your hand as if seeking more, his mouth agape and eyes glistening with despair.

"What a naughty boy," you cooed, slowly shaking your head in a false disappointment. "Were you planning on going raw with me, Jakey?" You questioned, voice low, layered with playfulness. 

Jake winced, desperation growing inside his chest, fearing you to leave him now, when he needed you the most.

"N-No..." He shook his head, “I wasn’t– I forgot, I’m sorr–” 

"Unluckily we just met.” You interrupted. “I don't know you well enough to let you do that. Right?" 

Jake nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was truly following your words. You were loving to see him falling apart so easily, almost begging for you not to leave him through his messy moans. 

His breath hitched and he almost grabbed your hand in place when you let go from his hard, red and needy cock. "P–please…" He finally pleaded, holding your waist as his eyes searched for yours in complete despair.

You quirked an eyebrow, smirking at his endearing demeanor. "Aw, you really wanna fuck me, don't you?" You caressed his cheek with your clean hand, smiling.

“I really do,” Jake whispered, moving his head just enough to kiss your palm. “Please, let me–”

“Not without protection, Jakey,” you said firmly, although with a hint of teasing, because you had a way out of that situation without harming your health.

And the said solution was inside your purse, which got tossed on the ground at some point of your initial make out session with Jake. 

Jake's puppy sad eyes followed your every motion when you moved his hands off of your waist, thinking he had messed up completely. But then he saw you grabbing your bag and taking a condom off of it, showing to him with a playful grin.

"And lucky to us, I'm always prepared, Jakey.”

You slowly approached him again, his gaze catching the alluring sight of you gently opening the packaging using your teeth, while your eyes confidently remained locked onto his, loving to see his bewildered expression.

Without a word, you slid the condom on his length, stroking it a few times before turning your back to him, bending over the counter and lifting your dress, revealing the beautiful view of your bare ass.

Jake’s firm hands instinctively gripped your hips and he positioned himself behind you while biting his lip in anticipation, the thrilling excitement boiling stronger in his cock.

He searched for your eyes in the mirror in front of you two, and of course you were already looking at him through your hungry orbs, savoring the image of Jake’s craving your body.

"Now fuck me as desperate as you seem to be."

Your words hung in the air for seconds before Jake’s mind snapped away from your tempting view in the mirror; your boobs nearly jumping out of your neckline, lips swollen but carrying the same confidence, and your eyes. Your fucking eyes. Your devilish eyes. 

“Your desire is my pleasure, Y/N.” It was all Jake managed to say with his low, husky voice, before pushing deep into you.

Your mouth fell open with the breathtaking sensation of being filled up, and Jake began to slowly pump into you, giving you a little time to adjust. Or you thought so.

You still had no idea that he was already stepping near the edge of his own release, that being the reason for his deliberate hip rolls – there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity of enjoying your delicious squeezes around his dick slip away that easily.

“F–fuck,” his voice cracked as he whispered. “You f–feel amazing...”

You looked at Jake in the mirror after hearing how weakly his words came out, as if he were already lost in a haze of his own pleasure. And he truly was. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly parted, a faint smile gracing his lips.

When a specific deep thrust hit your g-spot, you almost cried out and Jake quickly paid attention to it. Then he bent you even more on the marble counter with one hand forcing your back, to ease his access to your sensitive area and help with his movements, speeding his hips the right amount to make you roll your eyes.

“T–that’s it...” You moaned. “Fucking me so good.” You praised and Jake groaned, his hands immediately sliding to cup one of your covered breasts, massaging it while keeping his pace, eyes locked at the insanely delightful view in the mirror.

A sequence of moans slipped out of your throat as Jake started fucking you hard and fast, desperately even. How your walls clenched tight around his cock was driving him insane, and he seeked for more of that addicting feeling.

The sound of the distant music did nothing to cover the slams sounds echoing the bathroom at that point, and honestly, neither of you cared anymore, far gone in your own pleasure.

At some point your own body started to encounter his pushes into you, but it wasn’t enough. So you straightened your posture a bit, tugging Jake’s hair while looking at his eyes in the mirror – his fucked up expression sending shivers down your spine. 

“Faster, Jake.” You urged, a bossy tone dripping out of your mouth like a sweet sugar that Jake grew obsessed with. And he instantly obeyed.

Your free hand cupped Jake’s on your boob and your eyes fluttered close while you tilted your head back, lost in the amazing feeling of Jake pounding into your g-spot, a mess of moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. 

Since he had his eyes open, Jake watched your body quivering with his thrusts, the fucking Prada logo on your dress shining with the dim light of the bathroom, your makeup slightly smeared due to the mess. It was completely out of this world how good you looked, and the way you were squeezing his dick together with the view, sent him even closer to the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum–” He said in one go, as an eager statement, not a warning, desperate to feel his release. 

Your breath started to quicken with his erratic pace, and you fluttered your eyes open again, catching the sight of Jake’s concentrated frown and mouth agape, letting out the prettiest moans you ever heard.

You said nothing, you just tightly gripped the hand on your chest and leaded it to your clit, inciting him to rub it for you. Jake got your message, and with all the overwhelming stimulus, your second orgasm hit, mouth falling open gasping for air as you supported yourself on the marble counter, your head falling forward while you kept on feeling Jake’s deep thrusts.

You clenched involuntarily around his dick, and that was enough for him to achieve his climax as well, resting his head on your shoulder, holding you close still.

Jake moved back with a hiss, completely dizzy and fulfilled. He removed the condom and tossed it onto the trashcan before dressing himself back again, helping you to recompose since your legs were shaky.

“Thank you,” you said in a hoarse voice when he offered you your purse and your panties, to which you decided not to wear again because, well, it was on the floor.

So you cheekily pushed into Jake’s pocket without saying a word, and he didn’t even noticed, too focused on looking out for you by supporting you to keep steady. 

You turned to the mirror, fixing your messy hair and makeup as best as you could. 

“How do we get out of this bathroom now?” Jake asked after the silence, watching you re-apply your red lipstick. 

You just smiled, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek to purposely leave a mark there. “Like this.” And you simply opened the door, not even caring about the instant stares you received as you did so, Jake following your lead right behind, a small shy smile adorning his lips. 

With a last goodbye look, you parted ways, your confidence evident in your stride, and Jake fumbling to smooth down his disheveled locks, now with the acknowledgment that the devil definitely wears Prada.

[devilander]

a mirror in half-light

18+ 1.5k. homelander x supe f!reader. blood, dirty talking, cunnilingus, use of telepathic powers, acts of violence mentioned (not between reader and HL)

From someone so concerned with shielding his mind, Homelander quickly comes to appreciate your telephatic powers and how useful they can be. Especially during a boring Seven meeting.

prompt sent by @infinetlyforgotten, thank you so much 🤍

When you were first introduced to the Seven, many, including your new colleagues, compared you to Mindstorm. Sure, there were some similarities—the ability to see a person’s thoughts or to project specific images. But that’s where it ended. 

The ace up to your sleeve, which distinguishes you and earned your supe name as Quickstep, is both your telepathic precognition, giving you leverage in hand to hand combat, and your crown and glory—possession. Supe or non-supes, all could have their minds hijacked by you; an ability Vought decided not to publicize. 

Your fellow partners in fighting crime knew, though; and from day one you could feel Homelander watching you with suspicion, a stare so filled with distaste your knees almost buckled. 

Seeing you in a corridor, Homelander signaled for you to approach.

“Quickstep,” he sneered, invading your personal space until he towered over you and your neck ached from looking so high up. “If I catch you using your little powers on me, be sure I’ll crack your spine. It’ll be easier than stomping on an ant. Got it?” His sudden artificial smile did nothing to lessen the weight of his words. 

Homelander was your hero, always, since childhood. Not only that, ever since you saw him for the first time, the shining blue eyes, the softness of his blonde hair, that commanding voice... You were a goner. And he most certainly knew. The disappointment almost, almost broke your heart. 

Little by little, however, with the unspoken promise you wouldn’t pry on his mind, you’d grown close. Partners in fighting crime, yeah, of course, but you had his back, no matter what. 

In one of your missions together, Homelander smeared in an innocent’s blood from head to toe, your first instinct was to help him—clean the mess. And you couldn’t lie, him in his violence and brutality did something to you. 

“Hey, you,” you murmured. “Let me help you, okay? Let me take care of it. Let me protect you.”

Surprisingly, he acquiesced. It took no more than minutes to possess the mind of some poor bystanders, having them fight and commit atrocious acts; they wouldn’t know what came over them and Vought would be too happy not to disclose. In quick action, the narrative changed; from rabid supe, to terrorist crowd. 

Later, you found yourself in his penthouse, in his bathtub, naked and cleaning the gore as he squeezed your waist. When you sealed your relationship with a bloodied kiss, you knew there was no turning back—and you loved it. Loved his quirks, his humor, his beautiful nose and soft hair, loved his flaws and all that came with it. Loved the tie that bound you forever. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” you whispered in his ear as you lay in his bed, a few hours before your meeting with the rest of the Seven. “I ache for you all the time. It overflows, sometimes.” You giggled, remembering when your desire burned you so passionately, so intensely, your mind had one focal point: Homelander and what he could do to your body. Without realizing, all your wants and needs were suddenly projected on his mind.

In the first time, you were fearful he’d throw a fit, but he simply grinned devilish at you. 

“Wow,” he laughed. “If I’d known more about your dirty little mind I would have put it to use a long time ago, babe.” 

After that, it became a fixture, in bed, in daily moments where voicing your thoughts wasn’t an option, or in missions when silent communication was useful. And bit by bit, he delighted in it, veritable proof of your devotion and love.

As it were, in this stolen moment, cuddled in his bed, he answered. “And I love you, my darling, My own mirror.” He nuzzled your neck. “No need to scream in my mind, I’m gonna eat your pretty pussy until you beg me to stop.” 

“I’d never,” you said breathily. 

Slowly kissing from your collarbone, to your stomach and thighs, mischievously looking you in the eye as he bit and kissed and licked everywhere around your cunt. His strength was enough to keep you in the exact place he wanted. Such a delicious torture. 

Finally he turned his attention to your clit, dragging his tongue over it in elaborate patterns—he was relentless, and you both moaned at the contact. You were loud, thrashing and screaming at the slightest touch, but only for him. He played your body perfectly. 

Your hands found his hair, soft to the touch, and yanked, wanting him closer and he groaned—the vibrations going straight to your core. Soon he started tongue-fucking, just as you liked it, going deep and slow, alternating to trace your slit from your asshole to your clit; not one part of you ignored. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. You’re fucking made for me, your pussy is mine, mine, understand that?”

“It’s yours! It’s all yours. Please, Homelander, please—”

“Please what?”

“Let me come, let me come in your mouth, I want to feel you.” It was all too much, the mess his tongue made, the wetness running down your pussy and dripping in the mattress.

Moaning, he plunged two fingers deep inside you, as he squeezed your ass, bringing you even closer. You cried from the pleasure he woke in you, and even in this madness you caressed his hair, closing your legs until he was in the position you liked most: with a perfect view of his face, his soft locks, his bright eyes. 

He smirked, squeezing you tighter, until you no longer touched the bed, and he slapped your ass so hard your whole body trembled. 

“Like that, princess? Like when I do whatever the fuck I want with your sweet body? Now show me. Show me what you want.” 

You complied instantly. 

You imagined him feasting on your pussy, licking it all until his spit and your slick became one and the same. His fingers marking your ass, your thighs; biting so deeply even your invulnerable skin would cleave to his superior strength. You wanted his tongue deep inside you, for yours on end, fucking your pussy so good your legs would spasm and you would scream for all the Tower to hear, pussy clenching just the way he liked. You wanted it all—Homelander slurping on your clit and swirling his tongue, making you squirt and swallowing it all, leaving his chin a beautiful fucking mess. 

In the aftermath, body boneless and exhausted, you wanted his fingers, for him to drag it all over your juices and make you swallow and gag on it. Then, in a little tenderness, he'd give you a breathtaking kiss, further proof of your intimate lovemaking. 

As you projected all of this on his mind, his smile grew bigger, more wicked. And you knew he'd deliver it, or even more. 

“You really are such a slut.” You giggled; it was all in the game.

Later on, as all the Seven were debating their latest terrorist attack, and what plan they'd need to put in action, all you could think was Homelander. His hands on you, his tongue lapping at your clit and his disheveled hair—which, you noticed, he didn't fix for the meeting. It wasn't fair, he was too mean at taunting you.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and he knew. Flashes of your morning together ran through your mind. No matter how satisfied you'd been, you wanted more, again, all the time. You wanted his kisses and devastation, his head between your legs and his mouth both teasing and giving you the most world-shattering pleasure. 

You wanted to caress his hair, your newfound obsession, while he fucked you, hiting that sweet spot and filling you up with his come.

In your daydreams, you tuned out from the conversation, and like being burned you found Homelander staring straight at you, an expression oh so familiar. Unintentionally he'd become the spectator of your fantasies. 

Rising from his chair so quickly you barely caught it, Homelander said, “That's enough for today. I have other things to take care of. Quickstep, you stay.”

Whispers of complaint were quickly shut down, as Homelander glared at them until each and everyone left the room.

“Well, well, seems like someone is still wantin' for more.”

He laid his hands on your chair, then turned it so you were face to face. 

“I couldn't help it,” you smirked. “I can't get enough.”

“But that's not fair, don't you think?" He clucked his tongue. "It's your turn to please me.” He pulled you from the chair, and manhandled you until you fell to your knees with a thud. “Now, princess, get to work.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Jiggly

Summary: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight.

Warnings: Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Smut (Heavily Implied), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Light Spanking, Cursing, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Talk of Potentially Abusive Exes, Brief Discussion of Murder, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner and @dc41896. This story will more than likely take place in my upcoming Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

___

“Lemme see.” 

“Seriously, Ari?” You mumble, throwing your arms over your face. “Ari–no!” Your man’s eagerness has you almost immediately second guessing yourself as you hastily go back to protecting your middle. 

“Why not?” Your man purrs, nuzzling the fabric of your threadbare flannel shirt with the tip of his nose. It was your favorite thing to wear when you felt like this. Not because it was exceptionally cute, but because it was comfortable.

Nevermind the fact that it had once belonged to Ari. And that you usually only wore it when he was away on a job and you were missing him.   

“I just wanna see what all this fuss is about, Bird.”

“I already told you.” The words are spoken in a huff. After a brief debate, you decide to take advantage of the element of surprise and flip your positions so that you’re straddling him. “I’m feeling a little jiggly.”  

“Right, you’re…jiggly.” A small snort slips from his mouth before he can compose himself. “I heard what you said the first three times you said it. Didn’t make a lick of sense then and it doesn’t make any now.” 

Annoying bastard. Not everyone could walk around all day sporting washboard abs. Especially not a girl like you whose passion for baking was almost as big as her passion for books.

“Oh, shut up.” You grunt, rolling your eyes as you go to pin his hands above his head. 

“I’m just pointing out that my ears are working fine.” He picks that moment to buck his hips, almost knocking you off your perch. Somehow you manage to steady yourself, but it’s absolutely easier said than done.

“Hold still, Levinson!”

“Looks to me like you’re the one doing all the moving.” Ari’s hearty chuckle has you redoubling your efforts to hold him hostage. “Although, I can’t say I’m complaining.” He purrs, his lidded gaze straying to your now-heaving chest. “But I really think our next move should be gettin’ you outta that shirt.”

Fat chance of that one, pal. The last thing you wanted was to be naked in front of him right now. Sunlight wasn't known for being slimming.

“Nope.” 

“I vote yes.” Ari twists his big body, jerking against your hold. “And while you’re at it you can lose the shorts too, along with the panties.” 

“But I’m not wearing any.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them. It’s enough to have you mentally slapping yourself in the face.

“Even better.” The feral gleam in his eyes sends sparks shooting straight to your core. “I’m a simple man, baby. And giving me easy access to that sweet pussy is the quickest way to my heart.” 

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a surprise that you don’t lose them. As it was, your flimsy shorts were already riding up your ass in a way that was kind of uncomfortable. Mostly because your man wouldn’t stay still.

“Bird, what have I told you about rolling your eyes at me?” The soft, silky timbre of his voice has alarm bells sounding in your head.

“Um…” Now, that one has you at a loss. And not because you didn’t know the answer to his question.

In the past, Ari had explicitly warned you not to do it. Not unless you wanted him to give you a few reasons to keep ‘em rolling. Specifically in the form of his thick, hard cock. Because while your man was usually more than willing to put up with quite a bit of sass from you...

There was just something about rolling your eyes that pissed him off. In fact, the last time you’d done it you’d found yourself bent over the couch with a sore ass and him balls deep inside you.

Granted you’d also been in the middle of a fight, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” 

“Bite me.” You snap, your mouth once again moving faster than your brain. Fuck, you needed to get a handle on that.  

Ari has you on your back in a flash. He looms over you, careful not to give you his full weight. It went without saying that you were well on your way to getting yourself in trouble with your man.

Him and stupid rules about maintaining proper eye eye contact and refusing to tolerate your brand of self-deprecating talk. He always maintained that if he ever found himself wanting one of those rail-thin Hollywood types over you, he’d go see about getting his head checked out. 

To him you were gorgeous. Not because of or in spite of your curves. But because you were you. 

“Where’s all this sass coming from?” Ari asks, shaking his head as his nimble fingers begin the work of unfastening your flannel. “It can’t all be because you’re feeling squishy.”

“Jiggly.” You correct him gently, your heart speeding up as he slowly unfastens one button, and then another. 

“My mistake, Duchess.” And there was his other nickname for you; the one you’d earned yourself during your very first meeting. “I just don’t like seeing my girl upset – especially not when she’s been walking around my place all day looking good enough to eat.”

Soon you’re down another button, but you hardly notice this time. You’re too busy getting lost in his sparkling blue eyes.

Only a few more to go. Frankly, the only reason Ari hadn’t ripped the damn thing was because he knew just attached you were to it. And he didn’t want to risk upsetting you further.    

“I’m sorry.” You try, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. While your boyfriend doesn’t say anything, the apology does manage to earn you a kiss. Even though it’s nothing more than a faint brush of his mouth over yours. 

“Swear to God, baby.” Ari hums as he resumes the delicate task of divesting you of your clothes. “If I ever meet the man responsible for planting all those ugly thoughts in the beautiful mind of yours…” Once all the buttons are finally undone, he parts the edges of the worn fabric, exposing your bare breasts.

“Ari…”

“I’ll fucking kill him.” His dark gaze locks with yours, making it clear that he’s not joking.   

“Beast…” A shiver courses through you, the cool air making your nipples pebble. “This has nothing to do with him. My clothes have been feeling a little snug lately, but then I stepped on the scale this morning and it confirmed everything. I’ve probably just been eating too much.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen how much you eat.” The tick in his bearded jaw has you glad your ex no longer lived in the same county as you. “Some days it’s still nowhere near enough. Might as well be a bunch of birdseed. And since when do I even own a fucking scale?” 

Since you’d relocated it from your house to his. But your man doesn’t even give you time to respond. He’s already decided on its new home.

“It’s going in the trash, Bird.” Ari growls, his tone dripping with authority. 

“But I need –”

“What you need to do is not worry about counting every single calorie in every tiny bite of food you put in your mouth all the damn time.” His big hands go to frame your face as he forces himself to take a calming breath. “Because I remember what it was like back then, when you were too nervous to even eat in front of me.” 

Shit. You did too. You’d been so worried that he’d make some remark about how much food you were putting in your mouth or on your plate that you’d done your damndest to avoid eating in front of him altogether.  

“And I will not let us go back to that place, baby. I just won’t.” Ari’s head dips once more – this time his tongue sweeping past your lips to tenderly dance with your own as he pours every ounce of love he can into the kiss. He groans when he finally feels you relax beneath him, almost as if he’s savoring your submission. “You have my fucking word.” He murmurs once he finally lets you up for air.   

“I think that maybe I just need to eat more salads.” You tell him as your toes begin to curl. At the same time, a delicious warmth pools in your belly as your man begin’s trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your body. Your fingers sink into his chestnut tresses, lightly ruffling the strands.   

“Eat whatever the fuck you want.” Comes his swift rebuttal, his sharp teeth grazing over your pouting nipple.

“Bu–but…then my clothes might not fit.” A hiss of breath escapes as his kisses continue to move further south. “Like, at all.”

“Then we’ll just have to buy you some more goddamned clothes then, won’t we?” Ari snarls before pausing his hedonistic assault to glare up at you. When you don’t respond immediately, one of his hands finds your chin – gripping it with just enough force to let you know he means business. 

Your man was also the type who liked to hear an answer when he asked a question. And that wasn’t something that only applied to you. It was true for everyone. He didn’t talk just to hear himself speak.

“Yes, Sir.” To be fair, it was hard to argue with your boyfriend’s logic. And if he wanted to spend his hard-earned money he’d made off of chasing bad guys, then perhaps you’d ought to let him. 

The last thing you needed was him off pouting in the corner somewhere. He was a sizable enough menace already. He didn’t need the extra help.

“Thank you.” He grumbles, shifting his attention to what’s left of your clothes. Namely, your shorts. The ones Ari wasn’t too keen on you wearing out of the house on account of the fact that they barely covered your ass. Shaking his head, he eases the thin material down your thighs before tossing them over his shoulder. 

Now you were well and truly naked – completely at the mercy of your still fully-clothed Beast.

“Show me what’s mine, please.” Ari rasps, nudging your thighs apart. In the mood to obey, you let them fall open, putting your glistening cunt on  display. “There’s a good girl.” His fingers reach out to brush over your sensitive folds, making you whimper. 

Feeling brave, your hand shoots out to wrap around his thick wrist. “Wait. I was thinking I’d like to, um…makeup for upsetting you a little bit ago.”

“Really, Bird? You wanna make it up to me?” He maneuvers himself on the bed so that he can help you sit up. Nodding, you move to reach for him – intending to remove his t-shirt. Only to be surprised when Ari stops you. 

“But I want it off.” You whine, poking out your lower lip. “You’re not playing fair.”

“That’s because we’re not playing. If you wanna make it up to me then you’re just gonna have to do what I say.” He smooths a thumb across the wrinkles in your brow. “You can suck me off later. After you’ve fed me.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Grinning, Ari goes to lie flat on his back, his muscled arms coming to rest behind his head. “Now bring your sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” He pats his chest for good measure, licking his lips in anticipation. “And I mean all the way down.”

“But what if I –” Your stream of consciousness is interrupted by Ari tugging you forward. He grips your thighs, his slightly calloused palms tenderly kneading your flesh as he urges you up his body in the direction of his waiting mouth. 

This position always makes you nervous – regardless of whether or not you’d had to jump into your jeans that morning. 

“You just let me worry about all those pesky what-ifs.” Your man grunts, letting it be known that the only way to satisfy him right now is to submit. He spanks your ass when you hover too long above his face. “The only thing you need to be concerned about is how I’m gonna redden that ass if you don’t do as you’re told and sit all the way down.”

You feel your face flush as your empty walls clench. Your body was feeling more than a little needy. You were craving your man's cock like the drug that it was. But before you got what you wanted, you'd have to make a couple of concessions first.

Starting with this one...       

“I mean it, Bird.” He growls, delivering a sharp smack. “All the way down, please. I’m not worried about being able to breathe.” You jump when you receive another smack for your trouble. “Besides, if it’s my time to go…then I’d much rather go out with the taste of you on my tongue.” 

"Now let's see just how many you can give me."

END

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Facedown - Matty Healy

A/N: I don't shag men irl, so soz if there are any inaccuracies regarding the ins and outs of anal xx thank you to my mates @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff, @man-im-so-high and @awellposhmagazine for indulging in my stupid questions and mental breakdowns in the GC❤️

wc: 7k

content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, pegging, praise, also a bit of degradation depending on how you look at it, use of sex toys (strap), mentions of lingerie/matty in womens clothing, sex shops, spit, masochism, cursing, polaroids/cameras, so picture kink?, girlie immortalizes him in a picture let it be poetic

“I want you to fuck me.” 

You choke on air. Matty is a blunt person, always has been, never really caring for beating around the bush. You didn't mind it, but you feel like he could’ve worded that a bit more eloquently. He’s laying on top of you, hair tickling the bottom of your chin, curls obstructing a bit of your vision. 

“Okay, fucking hold up, what?” you're convinced you've misheard him. Even he wouldn't be that blunt. He takes a deep breath, his tone slow and condescending

“I said, I want you to fu-” you hit him, giggling in disbelief. He jumps back in surprise, a grin spreading onto his face. He was actually serious.  

“I fucking heard what you said, jesus.” Matty has this look in his eye when he’s about to do something he knows you won't like, this glimmer in his eye, and you see it so clearly. His hand grabs your face, licking across your cheek, starting from the edge of your jaw. You squirm away, wiping your skin with your hand, throwing curses at him. 

“Fuck's sake, you're like a dog. Behave and I'll give you a treat, christ.” 

“Depends on what the treat is.” he winks at you, grinning widely as you screw your eyes shut in annoyance. He just wouldn't let up, like it would kill him to be PG for even five seconds. 

“So?” he asks, referring to his original statement.

‘I want you to fuck me.’ 

His words echo through your head, making all sorts of images flash in front of your eyes. Of course he notices, trailing his fingers up your bare arm, making goosebumps kiss your skin in his wake.

It's hard to even think straight, the suddenness of the question making your head spin. The two of you had never talked about it before, thinking it wasn't even on the table. 

“Are you- are you sure?” you stutter out, a small part of you scared he was joking, trying to see how you would react. His answer makes you sigh in relief.  

“Never been more sure.'' He's smiling, a genuine, reassuring smile. 

“Actually?” 

“No, I meant metaphysically, philosophically-” he deadpans, but it takes only a few seconds for him to crack up laughing, burying his face into your chest, trying to stifle his giggles. 

You breathe out, weaving a gentle hand through his hair, guiding him up to kiss you, lips locking as he gasps softly. You stay like that for a while, kissing and holding each other, neither wanting to let go. 

“You're mental.” you mumble when he pulls away, brushing a small strand of hair out of your eyes, sweetly tucking it behind your ear. 

“Yet, you love me.” It's so perfect. His body is warm against yours, acting as a sort of weighted blanket, pressing you into the sofa. The scent of his perfume is strong, tinged with a hint of the spliff you’d both smoked earlier.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

You can tell he’s never been in an actual sex shop by the was his eyes widen when you enter, flicking between the multitude of displays and posters, having no idea where or what to look at. His hand grasps yours, one goal in mind as you both step inside, heading towards a specific aisle. Strap-ons. 

Even if it was his first visit, he seems immediately at home, casually browsing through strap-ons and vibrators like he was in a department store, looking at lampshades or containers. At some point, you manage to break away from him, finding yourself in the lingerie section, lace and silk and satin surrounding you on all sides. Your fingers graze over a specific pair of green lace panties, the material soft to the touch. 

Your mind goes back to that night, to the memory of Matty, on your bed, shirtless and panting, the only thing concealing him a pair of lacey black womens underwear. You wonder if he’d be into it, buying more stuff like that, or if he maybe had more back home, hidden in a secret corner of his drawer. 

You're snapped back into reality by a repetitive tap on your shoulder, turning around to see it was Matty. He was holding something in his hand; a light purple, see through strap, decorated with specks of glitter and incredibly detailed. You blush at the sight, before remembering where you actually were. It looked big in his hands, intimidating almost. 

“This one’s pink and glittery! Fucking awesome, who knew they had so many types?” he booms, holding it up right in front of your face. A few people turn, but most ignore his loud proclamation, going back to their own shopping. 

“You're so girly, Jesus christ.” you snigger, stifling a crude laugh. It was so Matty, always one to pick the most extravagant, out of the ordinary, even when it came to sex toys.  

“Don’t make me fucking start-” he threatens, and you promptly cover his mouth with your palm, staring deep into his eyes. 

“Shut it.” and to your surprise, he did. 

He goes back to the isle he came from, looking for more options. You’d expected it to be more uncomfortable, but you felt light, like anything was on the table. Seeing him move out of your sight, you turn back to the fabric you’d been admiring earlier, running your fingers over it, and out of the corner of your eye, something shiny catches your attention. Garters. 

Your core stirs at the thought of Matty in garters, maybe even stockings or heels. You wonder if he’d even be into it, or if that was where his adventures in femininity ended. Lost in your fantasies, you don't even realize you’d picked something up. A black garter, little heart details making it sparkle in the low light of the shop, leather and metal cool against your skin. 

“Oh?” you hear a teasing voice say from behind, making you jump slightly. Clutching the object between your fingers, you spin around, eyes meeting Matty’s, and he has this filthy grin on his face, knowing he’s caught you.

“What's this?” he takes it from your hand, looking at it closely. His eyes light up when he realizes what it is, or more, who it's for. Matty’s ego inflates as he dangled in front of you, relishing in your flustered reaction, a blush creeping onto your face. 

“Is this meant for me?” he asks, pressing it onto his thigh over his jeans, trying to figure out how it would look. He moves to the mirror located off to the side to get a better look, admiring himself in the mirror.

“You don't have to- it's just an idea.” you say defensively, scared he’ll find it weird or odd or-

“It's a wonderful one. Do tell me more, darling.” his hand trails up your arm, landing on your shoulder. You don't have time to react as he pulls you in for a kiss, short and hot. A suggestion.

You stare at him for a few moments, not sure how to react. 

“What else do you want to see me in? This, perhaps?” he struts over to the lingerie section, picking up a pair of silk panties, showing them to you. You nod your head, earning a sly grin and a wink from Matty as he puts them into his little basket.

“Or are you more of a lace kinda gal?” There's a hint of tease in his voice as he holds up another pair. The green pair. 

Your breath hitches as he stares at you, looking for a reaction, smiling victoriously when he sees it. Raising his eyebrows, he wordlessly adds them to the growing pile of merchandise he’s accumulated in the short span he’d been wandering around the store. 

“Fucking hell.” you mutter under your breath as he grabs your hand, dragging you over to the garters. It all seems unreal, the way he confidently shows off the pieces over his clothes, ‘modeling’ for you in front of other shoppers, utterly shameless. 

“I'll wear it for you, you just have to tell me what you want.” he parrots your words back at you. ‘Just tell me what you want, Matthew’

If only he knew. 

“You look pretty in everything Matty, I'd rather you pick.”

“And I'd rather you be turned on, hm? C’mon, tell me, I don't bite.” you giggle a bit at his choice of words, the marks on your neck contradicting his statement. 

“You like it when I'm pretty for you?” he whispers into your ear, the words going straight to your core. Your knees feel weak, ready to buckle at any moment if he keeps talking like that.

Nodding frantically, you press a small kiss to his lips, taking his hand. You lead him to the shoes, heels and boots of all heights and colors stacked neatly in piles against a wall.

“Oh, I'm liking this turn of events.” he grins, hands reaching out to touch a specific pair of black platforms, adorned with small gemstones along the strap. You had a similar pair, knowing just how hard they were here to walk in. 

“You are?” you question, feeling his free hand wrap around your waist, bringing the shoes up for you to touch, the leather rough under your fingertips.

“You turn me on so much it fucking hurts. I love being your little fantasy, all dolled up for you.” he speaks slowly, quiet enough so that only you can hear. You cough, almost choking on air as he adds the shoes to the basket, walking off as though nothing happened. 

“This one?” he asks, holding up another toy. A pale pink strap-on, less glittery than the last one, but still incredibly eye-catching. You eye him up and down, the way he stood like he was holding the most normal thing ever appalling you. 

“You sure?” he nods enthusiastically, eyes silently begging you to say yes. “Imagine how pretty i’d look, imagine the pictures-” 

Oh, he loved to tease you about those, your collection of filthy polaroids growing larger and larger the longer you were together, stashed at the bottom of your nightstand. 

“Sure you can take it?'' The expression on his face is priceless as you fight fire with fire, his grin vanishing, being replaced with an embarrassed blush dusting his face. 

He wordlessly adds it, walking off in the direction of the till. You follow closely, watching him take a bottle of lube (strawberry flavored, because it's Matty) from the shelf, placing it in the basket.

It was all so new, uncharted territory for both of you. Sure, he teased and you teased back, throwing witty retorts at each other until one eventually gave up, but you were both equally nervous and excited, the idea absolutely thrilling. 

The bus ride back home is slightly awkward, the bags in your hands adorning the very obvious logo of the sex shop you’d just been in, earning judging glances from strangers. Matty remains unbothered, engrossed in an old edition of vogue he’d bought at check out. You watch him leaf through the pages, inspecting outfits and designs, muttering when he doesn't agree with them. It was endearing, watching him critique world famous fashion designers, like his opinion would hold and weight in a proper argument. 

200 quid was what the trip had cost you, spending way more than you had planned. Matty had paid for it with his parents' money that they sent to him every so often, wanting him to be able to live comfortably even if they were away. You felt sort of bad, offering to use your own cash, quickly being swatted away by an insistent Matty.

“I have to pay, seeing as I am a gentleman. Besides, you're going to be taking great care of me later, so-” you manage to cut him off with a stealth elbow in the ribs, sparing the poor cashier from one of his terribly inappropriate rants. 

—----------------------------------------------------

Home is comfortable, much unlike the harsh summer weather and the beating sun that waited for you outside. Unlocking the door, you've met with the soft hum of the air conditioner, the cool air kissing your skin. Matty lets out a relieved sigh as he finally sets down the bags, stretching his arms over his head. You catch a glimpse of his lower stomach, a small trail of hair traveling from his belly button and into the waistband of his pants, which were hung obscenely low on his hips. 

“Do you want to-” you're cut off by Matty’s lips on yours, one hand gripping onto the base of your neck, the other pulling you in by the waist. Despite being almost three inches taller, you manage to overpower him quickly, pressing him into the wall behind him. He gasps against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as you grasp him by the hair, tugging him down to meet you. 

“Desperate, much?” you say condescending, one of your fingers trailing down the hollow of his throat, grazing the skin enough to leave a faint red mark. 

He loved seeing the aftermath of you on his body, and you’ve caught him admiring himself in the mirror more than once, running his fingertips over the bruises and scratches, reliving the moments that caused them. It's not like he left you bare, either, the complete opposite, actually. Your neck was full of hickeys in various colors, some more faded than others. 

He loved using his teeth, and had once left an incredibly obvious bite mark on the skin just above your collarbone, getting disgusted and borderline traumatized looks from both Ross and George. Adam never did mention i, but you caught him stealing glances at both of you, his tell tale ‘what the actual fuck did you do’ look on his face. 

“You’re one to talk, don’t think I didnt see how you looked at me back there.” he smirks against your lips, tongue swiping along your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. You use your body weight to hold him up against the wall, pressing a knee right between his legs, a move he loved to use on you, and watching you grind against him is his favorite sight in the whole world.

His hips buck against your lower half, his hard-on brushing up against your thigh. He groans at the slight friction, repeating the action until you stop him.  

“Please, fuck- please.” he breathes, eyeing the bag on the ground behind you with a look of pure lust on his face.

Your knees feel weak, your stomach flipping as he reaches out to touch your face, trailing his fingers down your jaw and onto your neck, lovingly pressing kisses all over your skin, almost as if to try and convince you of something.

Wordlessly, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, leading him down the long hallway and up the stairs, almost tripping. You near the bedroom, unable to take your hands off each other as he pathetically whimpers into your mouth, nails clawing at your back.

The door swings open and you push him forward until the back of his knees hit the bed, making him fall onto it. 

“Been thinking ‘bout this for a while, haven't you?” he nods slowly, chest heaving from the sheer force of your kiss, leaving him breathless.  

“You can’t imagine.” he answers, eyes looking up at you from his spot on the bed, wide and full of want. 

“So pretty.” you whisper to yourself, reaching down to push his shirt up, revealing that little bit of hair on his stomach, so incredibly sexy it made your head spin. 

“Take your shirt off for me, I'll be back.” you kiss him again, softly this time, not even looking at his reaction before turning around and disappearing through the door. Your legs carry you as fast as they can go, taking two steps at a time as you race downstairs, eyes settling on the hot pink paper bag left abandoned on the floor. 

Rifling through the pile of various clothes, underwear, gags, toys; really anything you could think of, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against cold resin. Of course it was made of resin, ridiculously expensive as well, typical Matty. You laugh to yourself, taking a close look at the toy in your hands.

It was pale pink, hyper realistic veins running down the sides of it, the actual strappy part a deep purple, almost black. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, almost forgetting one vital thing: the lube. 

The sight before you open the door again is one that should be chiseled into stone and hung up for thousands of years. Matty is on the bed, further up so that his head is resting on the metal bed frame up against the wall, it being more comfortable that way. His shirt is off, just like you had told him. 

One thing made you freeze. His hand was covering his lower half, palming his obvious hard on through his insanely tight jeans. It looked painful, well hidden by the filthy smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Kept me waiting.'' His voice is low, raspy, and desperate, even if he tries to play it off. You move without thinking, watching his eyes flicker over to the toy in your hand, which you place onto the bed out of his reach. 

“Not my fault you can't go five seconds without touching yourself.” you shoot back, kneeling onto the soft mattress. 

“Sort of is, isn't it?” he sounds playful, almost giddy as you catch his lips in a kiss. 

“You were begging so nicely before, what happened?” you fake pout at him, putting on a slightly condescending tone as he rolls his eyes at you. 

“I caught my breath.” he says, hands settling on your hips as you straddle him properly, his aching cock grinding against the curve of your ass. It feels amazing, your ego swelling as you take him in, needy and wanting for you and you only. 

“Yeah?” 

“Might have to take it again.” 

You get what he’s playing at immediately, reaching up to wrap your hand around his throat. Matty lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening at the sensation. 

“Fuck-” he’s cut off by you pressing down harder, watching all the blood in his head rush down south. 

“What? Couldn't quite hear you, speak up.” you taunt, loving watching him struggle to answer you, all that came out being needy gasps and curses.

“Please-” his breath hitches when you reach down to skillfully unbutton his pants with one hand, silently thanking the gods above he had decided to forgo a belt today, peeling the jeans off of him. He lets out a choked moan as you grip him through his boxers, wishing he had worn a pair of women’s panties, knowing it would rile you up even more.  

 “What? Use your words, Matthew, tell me what you want.” you tease, ignoring his silent begging, only slightly letting go of his throat, scared he wasn't properly getting oxygen. 

“Touch me, please.” he manages to force out, tears of relief welling up in his eyes when you take him out of his boxers, stroking his cock lightly. 

“This all for me? All because of that toy? Filthy, filthy boy.” his mind blanks, ecstacy overtaking his body and mind, the only thing he could think of was how fucking lucky he was. The strap is only visible in the corner of your eye as you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, drinking in every little gasp. 

You dig your thumb into his slit, his hips arching off the bed and into your hand, spurts of precum leaking out of his tip. You smile at his reaction, one question still running through your mind. This was all so new, and you were riffing off of what you already knew he liked, trying to build up as much tension as possible. 

“Have you done this before?” he takes a second to answer, slowly nodding his head. You motion for him to elaborate. A pang of insecurity rushes through you at the thought of him doing this with someone else, another person seeing him like this. You push it all down, turning your full attention to Matty. 

“Only alone, trying some things out..” his voice is uncharacteristically small, eyes avoiding you as he stutters over the second part of his sentence, clearly a bit embarrassed. 

“Oh yeah? Did it feel good?” you encourage him, desperate to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He smirks, and you can basically see the memories flash behind his eyes. 

Alone, late at night. Curiosity striking, clothes hitting the floor of his old bedroom. A mess of lube and spit, fingers experimentally curling upwards and finally, finally hitting that perfect spot deep inside of him, making him moan into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound. 

But of course, Matty has to do and say something so utterly stupid, it makes your eyes hurt from rolling them. 

“It’ll feel so much better if you do it for me, darling. Treat me right and all, seeing as I am your girl-” you playfully hit his arm, effectively shutting him up. He wasn't fully wrong, but the way he worded it was purposefully supposed to make you cringe, your eyes screwing shut and hands going to cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Shut up, what is your damage?” you ask, glaring at him as he tries his best to stifle his giggles. It's infectious, and soon you start laughing as well, falling into his arms, losing it at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Can you take nothing seriously?” It's a rhetorical question, but he still answers.

 “Nothing.” he drags out the word, mocking you.

You take this opportunity to tug at his cock, wiping the smug grin directly from his face. It was satisfying, watching him go from cocky and borderline bratty, to a sweet, moldable putty in the palm of your hand, willing to do whatever you asked of him.

 “A-ah oh fuck, i’m not gonna- stop.” he gasps, trying to push you off. You fight back, pinning him down using your entire body, your fingertips ghosting over his cock. 

“Gotta get you ready to take me, don't want it to hurt, do you?” your voice drips with lust, relishing in the wanton sounds he lets out at your words. Matty looks at you, mouth slightly ajar as if trying to say something. You nod at him. 

“I can- I can show you. If you want. We both know how much you like to watch me.” he gestures to the camera sitting on the nightstand, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Go on.” you whisper, your voice cracking. 

He flips around, and you use this little bit of time to slip your own clothes off, leaving your shirt and panties on, settling onto the bed behind him.

His hands reach for the bottle of lube, blindly feeling around for it. You hand it to him with a sickly sweet smile, making his stomach flip as he spreads his legs, a performative moan leaving his lips as he uncaps it with his teeth, pouring the liquid onto his fingers.   

It's weird, seeing him in this position, facedown against the mattress, tugging his boxers down with his clean hand. He can feel your eyes on him, raking over his milky skin, watching him take a deep breath as the cool lube hits his skin. 

“You look pretty.” you hear him snigger into the pillow at the breathlessness of your voice.  “Right? Good genes, innit?” he says smugly, craning his head around to get a look at your annoyed expression.

“Oh fuck off.” you smack him on the arse, taking the piss out of his stupid comments. 

He gasps, and now it's your turn to be smug, grazing your nails over the skin you’d just hit 

“Seriously? That turned you on?” he nods, tracing his lube covered fingers over his hole, shivering a bit before pushing one in. 

A string of moans and curses spill from lips, panting as his back arches at the intrusion. You watch him with wide eyes, taking every minuscule twitch of his body as he curls them slightly, going even deeper. You commit everything to memory, wanting this moment to last forever, and you reach out to trail your hands down his sides, digging your slightly grown out nails into his hips, making him moan into the pillows.  

“Giving me a proper show then. Anything to get my attention, right?” you mumble, leaning over him as he fingers himself for you, groaning and twitching against the mattress, overcome with pleasure.

“It’s working isn't it?” he forces out, the feeling of your chest pressed to his back making his eyes roll back in his head, his tip leaking spurts of precum onto the sheets  

“Fuck, yeah, its working.” 

His fingers brush up against a certain spot inside of him and he quite literally shakes, arching and pushing down onto his digits, his body begging for more. You watch, entranced in every movement he makes, in a sort of daze. 

You could sense him gaining back a sense of confidence when he peers back at you, seeing your blissed out expression at the sight of him fucking himself open for you, moans and whimpers going straight to the growing heat in your core.

“Wanna fuck me? Make me moan for you?” he teases, moving his lube covered hand to his cock, tugging at himself as you pull him closer. The strap next to you burns a hole into your brain, and you reach for it, hand gliding over the resin. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?” That was the final straw that made you scramble up, fumbling with the fastens of the toy, unbuckling them and slipping it over your underwear, the weight of it a bit strange. 

 “I’m going to make you eat those words.” you threaten, one of your hands threading through his hair, pulling his face up before dropping it back onto the pillows. He whimpers at the sharp pain radiating from his scalp, spreading all the way to his fingertips that clutch the sheets so tightly, his knuckles look pale white. 

“It's what I'm counting on, darling.” he winks, arching his back towards you, grinding his arse against your strap. This was really happening. Sucking in a deep breath, you steady yourself on your knees, taking the toy into your hand, circling his hole with it. A sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips as he relaxes into the bed, arse up and face buried into the dark blue fabric of his pillow. 

The sound of the lube covering the strap is a bit awkward, and you both laugh lightheartedly, nervous and excited to do this with each other, to each other. He groans as you finally line up with his entrance, the tip teasing him as he bucks back onto it.  

“Want me to go slow?” you ask, slightly nervous, scared of doing something wrong or god forbid, hurting him in any way. 

“Fuck me slow, yeah?” His words drip with lust, raspy and deliberately drawn out. He notices your hesitation, and his hand reaches back to grab yours, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin of your palm.  

“Jesus, you make it sound so filthy.” His vulgar words were nothing new, his cocky manner only another tool to get you to lose it on him, never showing mercy. Just like he liked it. Rough, hard, fast, never ending pleasure until both of you were fully satisfied. 

“Stop being a tease and just fuck me.” he was now at the point of making demands, blatantly ignoring the imbalance of power between you. You tut at him, nails digging into the fat of his arse, making him wince in pain.

“Not in a place to be demanding things from me, are you now?” your tone is deliciously condescending, making his cock involuntarily twitch under him, begging for attention. 

“You want it just as much as me.” he breathes loudly, a feeble attempt at trying not to sound as desperate as he really was, not wanting to admit defeat. 

“Make me mess, fuck me dumb, I know you want to.” an animalistic groan rips itself from your throat as you push into him, feeling the smallest bit of resistance at first. 

Remembering his little reaction from earlier, you experimentally smack the side of his arse, right where its curve meets the top of his thigh, and he shudders beneath you, crying out in pleasure. You don't know what you're doing, but you do gain a flicker of confidence when he grinds down against the bed, mumbling into the pillow. Asking him to speak up, his face is now visible as he moans, hips pushing back onto the toy as you pull back out, leaving him feeling empty.

You snap your hips forward, a bit harsher this time, watching and listening for his reaction, wanting to make it feel as good as possible for him. He was trusting you with the most intimate part of him, giving up almost all control as his arms go slack under him, nothing holding his body up anymore. 

“Fuckk, that's so good.” he breathes as you set a delicate but even rhythm, speeding up a bit with every thrust as he slowly gets used to the sensation. It takes a few minutes of fucking him at an agonizing pace until you feel his whole body tense up, a choked moan spilling from his parted, spit covered lips. Your breath hitches at the sight of him drooling, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. 

“OH FUCKK- right there right there right there jesus christ, fuck-” he curses, clawing around him, trying to find something to bring him back down to reality as your strap brushes up against his G-spot. There's a wet patch on the bed under him, precum covering the blue fabric of the sheets. 

“Sound so pretty, all for me.” you hit that same spot over and over as he pathetically cries out your name, begging for you to go faster. 

“Please, it's so good, so good, fuck me please oh FUCK.” you oblige, gripping onto his hips as you slam back into him, his back arching sharply as you pant, your cheeks a bright red. Your whole body is flushes crimson, your cunt clenching around nothing as you get off to the sounds and movements he makes, your witty words getting caught in the back of your throat

You're so incredibly turned on that everything else disappears around you, your only focus being a desperate Matty under you, writhing in pleasure as he experiences actual heaven, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat, making him glow in the dim light of the bedroom.

Sinful sounds fills the bedroom, reverberating off the walls making you feel dizzy, partially from the effort and partially from the boy in your bed, whimpering your name betweens strings of curses, begging you to just fuck him harder. 

Matty, though he hates it, is awfully predictable. He has cues that let you know when he’s close, his voice pitching up several octaves as you slam into him, never faltering. 

You take the opportunity to press your chest against the curve of his back, hard nipples rubbing against his skin through your thin shirt. Your voice is low, whispering lewd promises against his ear, occasionally nibbling at the skin, sucking a hickey into it. 

“Gonna cum for me? I can see you leaking all over the sheets, dirty boy” he cries at your words, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down his face, leaving small stains on the pillow. 

“Yesyesyes please don’t stop- so close.” he begs, every part of his body twitching and tensing, so close to the edge he could taste it. 

You don't know what possesses you. Maybe it was his comment from earlier, his tone playful and teasing, eyes dark with desire. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?”

It's like a foreign force taking over your body. You still, ignoring Matty’s pleas for you to keep going, his hips bucking wildly onto the toy still deep inside of him.

“No- nonono please, i was so close, fuck.” you click your tongue at him, effectively shutting him up

He winces when you move, hand reaching for something on the nightstand, not even realizing what you were doing. The plastic is heavy in your hands, black lense staring back at you as you reposition yourself behind Matty, the tip of your strap teasing his hole.

He thinks you’ll continue as normal, that you'll give him what he’s been craving this entire time. All he wants to do is cum, mind so clouded with desire that he could barely speak properly

Your hands threads into his hair, his neck limp as you pull him up by it. Your fingers find the shutter, knowing you had to act fast to get the result you so desperately wanted.

Pulling his head further back so his whole face was visible, you position the camera in front of it, the sight of the lense making Matty’s heart skip a beat. 

Right as you take the picture, you violently snap your hips forward, thrusting into him at a brutal pace, making his face contort in ecstasy, mouth falling open, revealing a pink tongue between his lips.

The camera flash is disorienting for him, the shutter barely heard over his impossibly loud moans, the sounds making you feel weightless.

He lets out a high laugh as he fully gets what you’d just done, only proving his earlier point further. His little victory is interrupted by his impending orgasm, the combination of the pressure from your strap on his G-spot and the delicious friction of the sheets rubbing against his cock sending him into a lust driven frenzy. 

His moans are high pitched, almost feminine as he buries his face into his slack arms, trying to bite back his noises. You tell him to quit it, demanding to hear every single cry that leaves his lips.

“You’re such a brat, acting like I cant have you fucking purring under me in the blink of an eye.” you speak, an intense feeling of power and control taking your body as you slam into him, licking up the skin of his bare neck, making him shudder under your touch. 

“I promise i’ll be good- just please let me cum.” he’s a blubbering mess, tears rolling down his cheeks as you tug harshly on his hair, the pain only making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm.

“Please- I need it so bad- fuck, please.” 

“Oh, you need it, do you?” you taunt him, your fingers moving to shove their way into his mouth, pressing down on his wet, hot tongue. The whimper he lets out as you gag him makes your brain short circuit, your eyes are fixed on the way he grinds his hips to meet your frantic thrusts, desperate to get himself off.

“Go on then, cum all over our nice sheets. Make everything dirty, just like you are, aren't you darling?” the filthy words spill from your lips before you could even think, and Matty stills for a second before moaning around your fingers, bucking against the mattress. 

“So good, so fucking good- oh my god, fuck, feels so good-” his words are muffled by your fingers, and as much as you need to hear him, you let it slide, wanting your perfect boy to finally come undone. He cums with a scream, an actual, guttural scream of your name, convulsing under your touch as you reach around and grip his cock, working him through his orgasm. 

He gasps as ropes of cum paint the sheets, covering your hand. You slow down your thrusts, not wanting to rip him out of his dazed state just yet. He whimpers as you pull out, feeling strangely empty without you filling up every inch of him. His body is limp against the bed, chest heaving trying to take in as much oxygen as possible as he comes down from his high, slowly but surely. 

You yelp when a hand grips the side of your arm suddenly, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. Matty’s sweet smile makes your heart swell up with love as you make eye contact, his brown eyes drooped half shut in pleasure. 

“Fucking mint.” he breathes, giggling as you roll your eyes at his utterly unsexy reaction to you fucking his brains out. 

“Really?” 

His smile turns into a grin as he pulls you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against yours. You hand cups his cheeks, wiping aways what's left of his tears.

“I fucking love you, that was world altering, fuck me.”   

“I already did, remember?” the opportunity was right there, and you both erupt into a fit of laughter at your bad jokes, grinning widely at each other. Matty lets out a grossed-out groan when he accidently rolls into the wet patch he had left in the bed, crying at the feeling of the damp fabric against his bare legs.

But, in typical Matty fashion, he opts to just cope, too lazy and fucked out to do anything about it. You try to convince him to get up, shower, maybe do anything except roll around in his cum soaked sheets. He flat out refuses, gripping your waist so tightly you felt Matty-shaped bruises form on the skin. 

He forces you to lay with him, not letting you get up. 

“Did it hurt?” you ask tentatively, genuinely curious. He shakes his head, trying to describe the sensation. 

“A bit, but it felt really fucking great after about two seconds, so totally worth it.” he kisses you again, softer but still passionate, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. 

“Did you like it?” he asks, trailing a finger up and down your arm, scratching it comfortingly. 

All you can do is smile, the memory of what you felt making you giddy. 

“I felt powerful.” you confess, a faint blush spreading onto your already flushed cheeks. Might as well let it all out, right? 

“You like being powerful?” you nod your head, confirming the sneaking suspicion he’s had since that very first night on his living room sofa. 

“I like it when you hurt me.” you laugh, that information having been painfully obvious for a while now. 

“I know, darling, you make it so obvious.” he curses at you for quote un-quote ‘kink shaming’ him, immediately mentioning your little knack for photography. 

“What do you do with the pictures?” you’ve never told him what happens to the polaroids after they properly develop, stashed in your nightstand drawer. 

“I don't kiss and tell.” you snigger at his hurt reaction, now even more desperate to know what goes on in your mind when your finger presses down on the shutter, immortalizing Matty in a picture as small as the palm of your hand. 

“That does not work if I'm the one you kissed, I’m afraid.” you dismiss him with a shake of your head, watching the hope leave his face. He nags you further, offering all sorts of services to get you to confess to him.

“I’ll show you sometime.” his eyes light up, ready to make yet another filthy comment. You press a finger to his lips, shushing him like he was a misbehaved child, smirking at his reaction. 

“Only if you're good, though.” he nods his head so eagerly, you're afraid he might get whiplash as he shuffles closer to you, nuzzling his face into your shirt (well, his goal was clearly your tits, but you didn't need to know that.)

“I'll be so good for you, you’ll regret ever denying me.” you laugh, vowing to hold him to it.  

[inkskinned]

im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."

[spookykoolkat]

eddie m. – you're just so sweet

MDNI!!!! 18+ only! read at ur own risk!

chapter 1: that damn bikini

part two here | main masterlist

dad's friend!eddie munson x daughter!plussize reader

na: first eddie munsons x reader smut, and i'm excited! more parts to this series of course, but pls let me know ur thoughts! suggestions for the next part or upcoming parts, i love feedback!!

warnings: age gap (18 years), reader is 25, eddie is 43, mentions of self image issues, foreplay (fingering), dirty talk, talks of oral sex (f receiving), talks of penetration (p in v), and more!

Wrong. It's just wrong, and you knew why. Eddie had been around for the longest time. Every family party, every dinner, every birthday. He watched you be sent off to college by your parents, he watched you turn eighteen, he watched you learn how to drive, and he watched you turn into a woman. The thing you hated was the fact that he never looked at you the way you wanted him to, and you tried since you turned 18.

It was so annoying. He saw you grow into a woman yet still paid no mind to the little girl in the house, focusing on his friendship with your parents, more specifically your father. Now, you're back from living in California for a week just in time for your mother's birthday. She was turning 47, your dad standing at 50, and Eddie standing at 43. And here you were, at the store at a whopping 25 years old, buying booze for the parents and the parents friends. You handed the cashier a crisp 100 dollar bill and took the brown paper bag after being handed your change and receipt.

Get your shit together.

It's been a long day, and it's going to be an even longer night, especially with Eddie being inevitably being there. It's been almost 5 years since Eddie last saw you, and now it's become clear you've grown into yourself. You were bigger—everywhere. Bigger breasts, bigger thighs, bigger stomach, bigger arms, bigger ass—anything that could've grown, grew times five. You embraced your weight, your lifestyle, your body, and you knew that no matter what you looked like, you felt like you. But the closer you approached your parents very large house, the closer you felt you were walking into a bear trap willingly. There was a part of you that appreciated the fact that your father's friend wasn't a creep. He wasn't counting down the days you turned 18, like you thought. You thought maybe you'd turn 18 and that he'd try dropping hints, or acknowledging you in the way you wanted. But nothing.

It was maddening. The last time you saw him was on Christmas break from college, and he gifted you a bracelet with your UNI colors. Innocent, small gift to show he cared about you, but also almost setting a boundary.

But now pulling into your family's neighborhood, you spot the house you grew up in and the four cars parked out in front. One black truck belonging to Eddie himself, the other three belonging to your mom and dad. You wondered if he was still the punk rock, shirtless auto-mechanic, guitar playing Eddie. Maybe he'd grown out of the black nail polish and long shag he had, maybe he'd become a business man rather than an occasional entertainer by night and a body shop owner by day. You knew Eddie had been a metalhead since his high school days, you overheard conversations about his bandmates who were also his high school friends, about his endless partying and drinking era, you heard everything. It made you wonder if you had been in high school when he was, would he have looked your way?

"It's fine, it's just a week. You can do this," you breathed, parking on the curb and grabbing your purse and the bag of booze, stepping out into the humid hot air of Texas.

The entire walk to the front door was like walking on pins and needles, it was agonizing because the entire time you were imagining just what Eddie would say seeing you. It wasn't that you had never met another man, you weren't a virgin and hadn't been for a long time. It was the fact that every man you fucked, you were bored. It was abrupt, painful and not good pain, dry, no effort, no foreplay, no love. You hated it, but still indulged for something to scratch the itch you had.

You knocked on the door and three seconds later, it opens to your mothers face.

"Oh, baby doll you're here!" She squeals, her short frame hugging you tight as you hug her back

"Happy birthday mama, I love you," You say and kiss her head. That's when you look up and see him. He was exactly the same. Sporting a wife beater with a very worn black flannel and black cargo pants, his hair curly and long still in his shapely shag, his eyes wide and puppy like as he stares you down as if he'd never seen you before. To be fair, he never saw you like this. Eddie Munson never looked at you as anything more than his friends daughter, his buddy's kid.

"Hey kid," He said, sporting a small smile as he soaks you up. Eddie was even a little confused, wondering why he himself was taking in your person more than usual. He was a single man in his early forties, still refusing to get with a woman if she doesn't at least know a single metal song. He had standards, they were low, but standards by any means.

Your mother lets go and grabs the bag of booze, releasing you to greet Eddie. You go to embrace him, your face hitting his silver chains sitting on his sternum.

"Hey Munson," You said, a small smile in your voice and he wraps his arms around you tight, lifting you off your feet like you were a kid and spun you.

"That really you kid? Didn't even recognize you with the new bling on your face," he joked, setting you to stand on your feet with his help of stabilizing you.

He poked the new metal through your face on both eyebrows and your septum. He flicks them with an intrigued gaze, and you swat his hand.

"Yeah, guess I'm just like someone I know," and you take your finger to flick at his single brow piercing he got over the years. You always admired his accessories, as you called them. His tattoos, his piercing, his scars, his rings. You remembered when you spent days looking out your window at the man who was your neighbor, mowing your and his lawn, plucking weeds, and even occasional gardening. You saw the way he sweat and how it made his tattoos glossy, wanting to trace over all of them with just your fingers.

"Mm, I'm flattered sweetheart. Taking after your old man huh?" He said as he finally took a small glance at your body. You noticed of course, but he thought he was slick as ice.

"Something like that. Just coming into my own." You smile, backing up a little as you remembered your bags.

"Yeah, that I can tell," he mumbles under his breath.

"Huh?" You asked, hearing a small grumble from him that he didn't expect you to hear.

"Oh, uh, you have your bags right? I'll get em for you. You just sit and look pretty," He grins, gliding past you fast enough for you to get a whiff of the smell of weed and cologne and smoke. You almost felt like a cartoon character smelling a pie from a window sill, how were you going to do this?

He wasn't sure the emotions he was feeling as of now were appropriate or not. As he opened the trunk of your small car, he pulled the pink suitcase out as well as a black backpack you had. Packing light, he noticed. How long were you staying? And how did you turn into a woman over night?

He was ashamed to admit to himself he thought about feeling every curve of your body when he had his arms around you. Fighting the urge, he resulted to the lift and spin. Eddie never looked at anyone at all. Let alone a woman almost twenty years younger than him. He was cursing at himself every step back into the house after shutting the trunk, telling himself to cool it, relax.

"I can take them up to my room, thank you." You said looking up at him, reaching for the handle of the suitcase.

"Nah, no can do, who would I be if I let you do this yourself?" He shunned, nudging your hand away with his elbow, his hand gripping the strap of the backpack.

Eddie decided to drag your suitcase up the stairs while humming to some song that didn't ring a bell for you, and you followed. You weren't as nervous anymore, not feeling any need to be. You knew nothing would happen between you two, and you were, not happy about it, but okay about it.

"Where to, madam?" He asked, stopping in the hall of where four doors are.

"Straight down, first door to the right." You announced, scooting past him to lead into the room. When you made your way past him, he felt the graze of your hips hitting his, and the whiff of a sweet smelling fragrance, something close to something citrusy. You were tempting him and you didn't even know.

He wasn't stupid. He noticed you didn't look how you did before. He noticed the weight gain but with the weight, came height, and with height came growth everywhere. It was true what they said about turning 25, the second growth spurt turned you into the person you'll be for a while. And he noticed yours. But Eddie—he didn't see it the way your mother did, or even your old friends.

"We should go to the gym together, maybe start our diets at the same time."

"You're not sad are you? You're getting big, baby."

"You ever asked your doctor about how to lose weight?"

"What happened, mami? You used to be so skinny!"

He finally saw you. You were a fucking woman. You acted like it too, he heard it in your voice, saw it in your face. He saw it in your clothes, in your curves, the thickness you had everywhere. He almost salivated at it until you started trying to snap him out of his daze.

"You can put them right there, I said," You repeated, and Eddie gave a small breathy chuckle as he nodded and walked into the pink room filled with stuffed animals, posters, knick knacks and figurines.

"Nice room, missy." He said, setting down your backpack on the vanity chair pushed into the large desk.

"Didn't know you were such a fan of pink, ya know. You screamed more," He stopped and paused to think, pointer finger tapping his chin.

"I'll say light blue. More oceanic, lochness monster type thing." He said, making his way to the door. He noticed the reality of being a grown man in her childhood bedroom, and decided this was enough boundary pushing. You didn't know how sexy his aesthetic would be clashing against your girly pink room, seeing him so out of place was almost enjoyable.

"Well, let me know if you need anything, I'll be helping your parents set up everything for this ragerrrr," He says, sticking his tongue out and putting his fingers up to form the rockstar pose, bored.

"Right. I'll help too I just-" You started but he shook his head dramatically.

"Uh uh, I'm the guest, I'll help. You just get dressed so your mom doesn't flip on you for being late to her birthday party," he pointed at you and shot a small finger gun, making you laugh softly.

"Yeah, okay. See you," you said and he nodded,

"Back at you."

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

The pool was already being used by your guests, your mothers friends, their spouses and two to three kids playing in the grass. You watched from the window on the second floor facing the large backyard with people much older than you, drinking, socializing, and your father on the barbecue pit with Eddie Munson himself beside him. His sleeves were rolled up with a rag hanging out of his back pocket just like a chain in his other.

You were done getting ready at this time, three in the afternoon, and really all you did was put on a red two piece, a knitted black halter dress over, and some black platform sandals. Your hair was kept in a high bun with a clip and your face only had a touch of blush and lip gloss. You figured a full face would be a bit ridiculous since you plan on getting in the water and laying by the pool. You grabbed a towel from your closet and started to head out to the backyard.

"You're here!!" One of your mothers friends shouted the minute you slid open the backdoor, a smiling woman heading your way to pinch your cheeks and ask you all about college.

While you were distracted, Eddie followed as his eyes led him to you. Your father was talking his ear off and the minute his eyes reached you, it all sounded like he was underwater. No music, no chit chat, no birds. He heard nothing but gargles and muted voices as he watched you greet the older women. For Eddie, it felt like everything was in slow motion.

Even slower when you finally broke free from the women and made your way to an empty side of the pool.

"Ed, turn the fucking burger," Your father nudged Eddie, forcing him to whip his head around to the burning meat on the grill to flip and let the other side cook. He couldn't be doing this, he couldn't be watching you the way he was but the minute your father leaves to get another beer, his eyes went searching for you again. And when he found you, he felt his heart sink.

You stood there at the edge of the pool, in a tied up two piece bikini that was fire red, your arms up as your hands dance in your hair to pull the clip from within. The groan he let out was almost something he couldn't tell actually happened or not, but it was a low guttural groan. A hungry groan. He almost looked around to see if anyone saw what he saw, but realized everyone here is pushing 50. Of course they wouldn't be looking. But he was, and he was angry.

How dare you walk out in something of that nature? Skimpy, small, two pieces of cloth practically hiding nothing. Eddie could not pull his eyes off of you, and he didn't want to. It truly felt like he didn't know you, he didn't know this woman. He only knew you as the kid who rode on her bike in the early 2000s.

But that wasn't you anymore. You had a degree, you had a job, you drank and did drugs, you've had sex—a lot. You weren't a kid anymore, and he saw it now. He took particular interest in the way the bikini top did you so much justice, the way the fabric was pressed into your skin made him itch to rub himself in the way you had. He was enamored with you, with every step you took, your skin jiggled and moved. He liked seeing you like this more than he'd like to admit, he was enjoying this little show you didn't even know you were putting on. Without realizing, Eddie started ferociously eating the bag of chips that sat next to him, watching your every move as you test the waters with your toes, adjusting your bathing suit so you wouldn't flash anyone. His eyes were drowned in lust and want, and he was thinking about everything but your body in his hands so his little Eddie wouldn't tell on himself.

"Alright, they're done. Put em in the pan and take them inside," Your father ordered just as you had turned to walk towards the stairs of the pool. Eddie found himself distracted, by his own daughter, and moved the bag of chips to face his friend.

"Right, er, let me get them set," Eddie spoke, placing all the meat in the pan and taking them to be put inside so your mother can dress them and set up the food table.

You on the other hand, watched as he took them inside. Your feet dipping into the pool as he finally entered the house, you decided to fully submerge yourself just for a bit so you could get the heat off of you for a second, you'd do anything to get out of this heat. It wasn't like Cali, the air was dry and hot but this, Texas heat ruined you. The humidity, the heat, and the quality of air just did not mix well. The minute you came up, he was right back out again, drinking his beer and talking with your father. Your hands go to clear your face and rub your hands to slick back your hair, deciding to swim about a little as people start to clear the pool area to go and eat or drink more.

You enjoyed the emptiness of the pool and the sound of music blasting in the background, you ended up getting a little too relaxed and started to float mindlessly, letting your body lift with no hesitation.

Eddie decided to go home to change out of his clothes, the ones before him smelling like barbecue and rust. As he walks past the pool to go home, his eyes rake over your loose body now. Your eyes were closed and your arms were spread out, floating and relaxing, and he loved it.

When he got home, he put on a simple black tee with his faded leather jacket, black straight let jeans and his regular boots he wore without a fail. It was fast, quick, he wanted to return as fast as possible after cleaning up a bit and see you again. The fact that no conversation has really been ignited between the two of you was kind of bothering him, so once he came back he looked to find you out of the pool, lounging on one of the long white chairs lined against the right side of the pool. How odd did he feel sitting in the chair next to you layered in clothes, while you were two tugs away at being naked and bare. He did it anyways.

"You gonna stare or say something?" You asked, your hands blocking the sun from your eyes as you opened them to turn to his face.

"You remembered to use sunscreen?" He asked awkwardly. You raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Did you remember it's one hundred degrees in Texas and you're wearing all black. And a leather jacket?" You asked in a snarky tone, closing your eyes and letting your arm fall to your side.

"Mmm, I don't dress for the weather sweetness," The pet names were just pouring from his mouth at this point. He didn't want just to call you sweetheart and doll. He wanted to call you these things while you called out for him, against him.

"I see that."

"Don't think I've ever seen this set before," he said lowly, looking around almost to see if anyone heard him.

You did though. It made you curious. How couldn't it? He noticed your bathing suit, or lack thereof, and noticed your body. He'd been watching you.

"S' new, got it when I grew out of my other one. Didn't cover what I needed to hide so," You trailed off, eyes closed yet still feeling his wide eyes on you, and your body that carried rolls and cellulite, stretch marks and prominent tummy. You almost got a little self conscious being under his gaze, but still you trusted that he had no desire to you for any reason. He was just your fathers friend checking up on his friend's daughter, innocent, simple.

"Can't imagine what the other one looked like if it didn't cover anything up," the tone in his voice sounded different. More, protective? Possessive? Maybe you were deluding yourself of what you were hearing, maybe he just wanted to be an asshole and tell you to cover up more.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, blocking the sun from your eyes again to glance at Eddie. He's sitting facing you, his elbows on his knees with a drink in his hand.

"Nothing doll, I'll let you get back to your... whatever it is you're doing," He stood up and motioned with his hand, then left like nothing. Except it wasn't nothing. Except he had your full body engrained in his mind, replaying the mental screenshot he took, drinking you in as he walked towards the back of the yard, watching everyone including you. You went back to tanning, laying in the sun to earn a small change in your skin tone, something you don't do often because you never have the chance.

Eddie on the other hand did everything in his power to avoid his gaze from landing on you. He found himself growing a little obsessed with the way your body moved in that sad excuse of a bikini, how your breasts threatened to push themselves out of your top, how the curve of your ass kept the bikini bottom in place with every movement. He made a mental note of the way your stomach looked, how a bit of your lower tummy showed past the designated area of the small bottom, how pretty his hands would look squeezing and touching it while his head was sitting between your thighs. He thought you were gorgeous, there was no way a girl like you existed right under his nose. But Eddie never failed to keep his eyes on you, studying you, admiring you, wanting you.

As the party went on, it seemed like it got even more heated. By 7PM, the friends with kids were gone, and the friends who had nothing else to do were still drinking and dancing. You saw your mom in the crowd with your father, dancing as they pleased. You pretty much stayed by the pool all day, making it harder for Eddie to focus on the women trying to get him to talk. But you avoided Eddie's gaze even though you knew it stayed on you the entire day. It kind of bugged you honestly, you truly wondered why he'd be staring at you for so long if there was no attraction there.

"Yeah, uh, work's fine," He mumbled to the woman who looked about like she was in her late 30s, someone age appropriate. She wasn't ugly of course, he actually found her pretty cute, but he knew you were right there. The light of the sun going down dimming and shining golden on you made you look like you were godsend. Lying out with a knee raised and an arm thrown over your face, you felt tired and almost drained by the sun, but he kept watch.

"So-"

"Listen, you're really cute and I think if things were different, I'd be waaaaay more into this. It's not you, it's me?" He said, kind of shimmying away from this lady and on his way to get another beer.

While he dug in the coolers for a cold bottle, he sees a hand reach down and grab a Corona, one that he traced back to your body. His eyes raked over your body up close as he was trying to meet your eyes, and as he looked up at you from his crouched position, he let out a small, shy chuckle.

"Hey," He said as he pulled out a Bud Light, opening it swiftly with his shirt as he rose to his normal stature.

"Hiya," You stated. You were standing in your halter dress again, platforms hanging off two of your fingers with a beer in the other hand. It was a bit cooler at night, less humid, and your feet touched the bare grass as you stood.

"You're not a pool person huh? I know you have a pool at your place, don't use it much do you?" You asked, a little bit of a buzz coursing through your body after your third beer.

Eddie takes the beer from you, setting his down and opening yours before handing it back to you. He picks his up again and takes a swig while looking at you through the bottle.

"You watchin' me, aren't you?" He smiled, the rings on his fingers squeezing the neck of the bottle. All you could really think about was the way that hand would look squeezing all over your body, feeling the metal against you, how large his hands were compared to yours. You couldn't tell if it was the Texas heat making you hot or the thought of him fucking into you with his ringed hand squeezing your throat.

"Probably not as much as you were today, but, ya know. Just a little," The confidence raked through you more than usual and he noticed. But Eddie loved it. The coolers were a little more in a solitary area, many of the people still here are in the opposite direction, drunk and dancing. The two of you stood across from each other, cooler length apart. Eddie took his time gazing at you up close before he answered.

"Sorry for that, I, uh, I didn't think you'd notice." Eddie said shamefully, tapping his ring against the bottle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I actually didn't think you'd notice." You said, emphasizing a certain syllable.

He scrunched his eyebrows at you, tilting his head like a puppy,

"Notice what exactly?" He asked and you took a swig of your beer before answering.

"Me. You know, the fact that I'm not a kid anymore. But I think you did notice. You think I look ridiculous huh?" You laugh, shaking your head until he softly grabs your face, turning you to him. He wasn't laughing. Eddie 'the freak' Munson wasn't laughing at a self degrading joke, something he practically trademarked.

"Why would I think you look ridiculous?" He asked, searching your face for the answers if you decided to not reply.

"In this little bathing suit, when I'm like, two sizes too big to probably wear stuff like this," You said honestly, knowing it took you a bit to wear things like a two piece. You look down at yourself, seeing the top of your breasts and protruding stomach, all of the sudden feeling a little insecure to be around Eddie.

"At least that's what everyone says, but I don't really pay much attention to them. I like myself." You finished and looked up at him to be searching you like he was looking for something.

"You don't look ridiculous, princess," He took a breath and moved his hand to touch the crease of your waist briefly.

"You look, yeah I mean, you look real pretty like this. Grew into your own person. Nothin' more sexy than that," He earned a laugh from you, your hand touching him ever so slightly that he could feel a small jolt of electricity.

"So you think I'm sexy?" You remarked with a smile, eyeing him as he eyed you.

"You don't even wanna know, sweetheart." He said honestly. You really didn't, you really didn't want to know how much he wanted to fuck you in your pool so he could watch your tits bounce out of that top.

"Why not?" You asked, sipping again.

"Cus I'm an old man, my opinion doesn't matter. It's those younger men your age that matter." He said, trying to save himself from a situation he can't come back from.

"I guess so. You know, college guys are so... odd. Maybe just guys in general. Didn't realize how many chubby chasers there were until after the fact. But, I don't know, I haven't been focused on that really," you mentioned as you leaned against the brick wall to steady yourself. You took another drink out of your bottle, and he watched you.

"Why not, these guys not doing it for you or what?" He joked, pulling out a joint from his leather pocket and you smiled.

"They're just.. mmph, this is embarrassing but they're just not, skilled? I mean, can I be honest? Like you're a guy, older, and you know, I guess," You rambled, unsure how to phrase the question as he sparks up.

"Mm I love honesty, hit me," He pulled a long drag from the joint, inhaling and passing to you. Yes, he was getting high with a 25 year old, and he knew how it sounded. But this time was different, because he saw you as a woman and not just his friend's daughter.

"Well, okay. Well. Um. Fuck okay. The only way I'm able to cum or like, orgasm or whatever, is when I'm making myself do it. The guys I've fucked were kind of like— it didn't take longer than 15 minutes. Sometimes not even 10. I guess I'm tired of being like, their token fat girl to sleep with. Feels like I'll never know what enjoyable sex is like," You sort of mumbled the last part, taking the J and hitting it twice, passing it back to Eddie, only Eddie doesn't take it. He's kind of stuck actually.

Here you were, telling him you'd never been pleasured in the way you deserved because these new 'men' couldn't care less about you? That every sexual encounter you had was a mere loss, probably making you feel dirty and gross after.

"Eddie?" You asked and he shook out his thoughts, taking the joint and sitting on the cooler next to you as you stood on the other side of the cooler.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it awkward or-" You started but he hummed.

"No, not at all. Just that—I mean really? They never made you cum?" His tone shifted, it was like he was becoming feral at the thought.

"I, no. Been living my life like this, yes I know. But. It's fine, kinda accepted I'll be the only one making myself cum." You noted, looking around to see if there was anyone and there wasn't. They were all towards the back of the yard, which was sort of hidden from this angle. You took back the joint from his hand, and once you put it between your lips, Eddie got up and basically pinned you against himself and the brick wall.

"I think, that maybe, just maybe all these guys you're fucking aren't what you need, doll." He breathed, his breath a mixture of weed and beer. He was too far gone to control himself, to not press against you, to not feel you. He needed you in that moment, and he needed to prove to you that you are not the token fat girl. That you are not a fetish, you are not a lifestyle choice. He needed to show you what it was like to feel pleasured, and to feel needed at the same time.

"You're right." You took a hit from the joint, blowing the smoke in his face looking to search his expression. He almost seemed angry, or bothered. It wasn't abnormal for him but, you couldn't tell if it was at you. This was your moment though, a moment of opportunity to really show him that you'd been chasing after him since you were 18. You pull the joint from your lips and place them between his.

"I think I need a man. Preferably someone in their forties, who smokes weed and listens to metal bands, maybe someone who even lived right next door to me." You mocked, suddenly getting a burst of confidence as his eyes go dark and he takes a drag from the joint, blowing it in another direction.

"How long have you needed this man, hm?" He asked keenly after putting the joint out on the wall behind you. His nose dipped down to the crease of where your neck and jaw meet, smelling you ever so slightly. His hands are placed on either side of you, his chest basically pressing against yours as you realize you're trapped in his grasp right now, with nothing but two pieces of fabric covering you up.

"A long time." You admitted and his lips go down, pressing into your collarbone as you sighed. Was this real? Was he really kissing the skin you dreamed of him kissing? Did he truly want you? You wished maybe it'd gone different, maybe you wouldn't have wanted him inside you at your mothers birthday party, but who are you to decide when things happen?

"Such a sweet girl. I've been, fighting myself this whole night. Been trying to avoid being near you before anyone noticed I was eye fucking you. You are the fucking definition of temptation. You fucking reek of sex. You're just," he paused and kissed more over the skin of your chest, stopping at the crook of your neck.

"You're so fucking beautiful too, so sexy, so fucking sexy. I wanna feel you baby, let me feel you, let me fill you." He whispered, his hands going from either side of you to your wide hips, squeezing softly as he caresses the skin behind your knitted dress.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be, princess, you ask and you will receive." He kept his hands steady on your waist, regardless of how much he wanted to feel all of you in his hands right fucking now against this wall. At this point, he moved his hands to rub the sides of your body, tracing every curve with his hands.

"I need, fuck Eddie I need you. I always have. Please," you nearly begged, the weed in your system making it easier to drown out your surroundings while his hand snaked down to the front of your bikini.

"Yeah? You'd let me take you right here against this wall? Keep you quiet with these little bottoms you got on," He growls, dipping down into your bikini to rub your mound as he goes lower and lower. Your mouth fixed into an 'O', moaning and humming as his fingers danced around your cunt.

"Didn't know my baby was so soft, or how much you craved me. Let me make you feel good princess, let me ruin you and show you just how good it can be." You couldn't speak, all you could do was whine and nod.

"Aw baby, that was cute. With words sweetheart, need to hear ya with words," He taunts, his finger teasing over your wet slit. His nose is pressed up against your neck, his tongue sliding over the skin below your ear as he uses his other hand to grab your ass.

"Please, Eds, I need you. Show me, show me everything please," you begged, your back sliding down the brick a bit before he stops you, holding you in place with his other hand.

"You want it right here, pretty girl? Right where anyone could see? Want me to finger fuck you in your own backyard?" He growled almost, sending a wave of pleasure through you when he finally rubs two digits all over your wet pussy.

"Yes, god yes I don't give a fuck, I need you inside me," You cried, your arms going up around his neck to steady yourself once you feel his fingers spread your lips and rub around your labia and your clit. You knew he knew what he was doing, he'd done this before and knew the way to drive women crazy. What you didn't know was that you were equally driving each other crazy. Your subconscious whines and pleads, the way you were almost grinding against his hand, you tugging and pulling his body closer as you feel the small butterfly feeling in your tummy. Everything you were doing was perfect, you were absolute perfection to him. He didn't know he craved you this bad until you were moaning his name, asking—no, begging him for more.

"Mm, my baby needs me stretching this hole out huh? Let's see how you take my fingers, baby, then we'll see if you'll let me fit inside this pretty pussy," He said moving his head from your neck to see his fingers working your clit in your bottoms. He moved his head again to look at you and the expression on your face, and he knew it was a mistake because he could've blown his load right there. Eddie hadn't even started finger fucking you yet you were already soaked, face red and hot, hair disheveled and your mouth agape. You honestly put him in a trance, he'd do absolutely anything for you.

Eddie teased a bit more until your eyes started to turn glossy, your breaths were getting heavier and the minute you inhaled again, he sunk his two digits into your hole and watched with an open mouthed smile as you threw your head back against the brick and squirmed.

"Ahhh, there she is. Look at you," He said proudly, beginning to slowly move his fingers in and out of you, giving you time to adjust. Eddie knows you're not a virgin, but it sure fucking feels like it.

"Such a big girl, doing so good for me taking my fingers like this. You look so pretty like this yaknow'? Can't believe nobody's made you cum the way you deserve, and that it's gonna be me showing you how enjoyable sex can truly be," He was so genuine, you could tell.

"Eddie, fuck, please please fuck me, I need your dick," You begged softly and he bit his lip, groaning with you.

You felt his hardened cock straining against his pants as he pulled himself closer to you, adding an edge to your pleasure because you got nervous. Your daddy's friend is standing pressed against you in hardly nothing with his fingers stretching you out, your wetness dripping down Eddie's hand the faster and deeper he goes.

"Yeah? You need my dick, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me and make a mess all over my dick?" He asked, moving his other hand to grope your chest. He got a little fed up with the knitted dress you wore and pulled it to the side to free your breast, snatching the bikini top to the side to let your tit fall out gracefully. He was fucking in love. The way your body jerked against his hand made your body move with it, jiggling and moving in a way he only imagined it would look when he fucks into you from below.

"Please, Eddie, I wan' it, you're gonna make me, ugh fuck, can I please cum?" You begged, your eyes meeting his. He was just watching you, listening to your moans being muffled by the music that seems to never stop playing. Until he dipped his head down and started to suck on the skin of your tit, fixing his lips and tongue to wrap around your hardened nipple. He tugged, bit, sucked all on your tit until he formed purple bruises on it. He didn't have the words to describe the feeling he had right now, he felt like he died and went to heaven watching you squirm and hearing your voice beg for him. Eddie had never felt this urge and eagerness to slip inside someone as bad as he wanted to right now, to sit you down on his lap and fuck into you like that, or to press you against this wall and take you from behind. He never had the desire to truly fuck someone the way he wanted to, never knew what buttons to push for someone to want him the way he wanted others. But you, you wanted him in a way that was sinful to anyone who heard or witnessed it.

You needed him to ruin you, to fill you up with his cum, to make you his.

"Fuck, my pretty girl wants to give me her cum? That it? You can do whatever you want baby, cum all on my fuckin' fingers right fucking now," He snarled as he took his mouth from your tit, to your ear, almost grinding his own hard on against the crevice of your hip. You felt him take his thumb and rub on your clit, leaving your holes empty until you started clenching on air.

"Eddie! Are you still here?" You both heard a voice from up top, your father on the balcony looking over to scan the yard. You looked up and saw him basically right on top of you, and you looked to Eddie with wide eyes as his fingers still worked on your clit.

"Don't let daddy hear you baby, cum on my fingers for me, be a good girl for me. Show me how much you want me to fuck you into my bed," He picked the pace up and held you tight as he noticed you were starting to come undone.

"Eddiee, fuck Eddie I'm-" You were kind of loud, so he pressed his lips against yours when he slid his fingers back in, feel you tighten around him as you gripped his waist, kissing him back but moaning into his mouth once you felt yourself let go.

But he didn't stop kissing you. He kept his lips on yours, almost locked in a trance as he pulled his fingers out of you. That's when he pulled away, but only to take his fingers in his mouth and lick up any of your juices that leaked onto him. You just watched, breathless, barely holding yourself up as he released his fingers with a pop. He fixed your bikini and dress for you, moving to fix your bottoms as well so that you weren't exposed for anyone else.

Eddie felt like he was in love the minute he tasted you on his tongue. He knew he couldn't just stop there, he couldn't just finger you and that's it. He needed all of you, and he needed you in every way he could have you. You held onto his waist and his hands snaked onto your waist, looking down at your flushed chubby face, looking for something.

"I, thank you. That was, um, really good," You shyed away from him saying that. Complimenting him on his ability to make you cum felt embarrassing, but he turned your head by your chin to face him, and he placed soft kisses by your lips and in your cheeks.

You couldn't believe Eddie Munson, just made you cum on his fingers. You didn't believe yourself really, it almost felt like you blacked out and when you woke up he was there. But you were awake, present and very much aware of his mouth and fingers and his cock straining to be released.

"Ya know, I think the next time I taste you I want it to be with you riding my face," He smiled, moving your hair back behind your ear.

"You were just so fucking sweet," he kissed your cheek and pulled away from you, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks and chest again.

"Wha-" You questioned but your father yelled out again.

"Eddie?" Eddie looked up and had an angry look on his face, kissing you one last time before releasing you and leaving. But he turns towards you, wanting to say something, anything. He just wanted to see you again, from afar this time. You look so exhausted, your back still against the brick wall, your legs pressed together, your hands in your hair. You looked fucking amazing and if it wasn't for your dad, he'd be face deep in your cunt right against that wall.

"I'll see you, sweetheart."

[kodathings]

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊

Drunk!Ning x gf!reader

Warnings: Mention of drinks, drunk Ning, mention of cigarettes and teenagers making out.

Gender: Fluff

a/n: An anonymous person asked me for this before so I hope it's good since it's the first request I've received. And I couldn't put an image on it, I don't know why and I gave up.

♪⁠ヽ⁠(⁠･⁠ˇ⁠∀⁠ˇ⁠･⁠ゞ⁠)

You never imagined that just one party would cause problems for you, you weren't even there to see what happened.

It started with Ning just being invited to a party at Giselle's house and she obviously accepted the invitation since it's been so long since she had fun like that. You can't protest for not being able to go with her, you just left her alone that night hoping she would show responsibility, but that's not how things ended.

"Honey, I'm going to the party, okay? I'll help Aeri and the girls pack the missing things" She gave you a kiss on the cheek and picked up the bag she left next to you on the couch. "Call me if you need to and be careful, don't drink too much" you saw the girl playfully roll her eyes at your concern "Okay, mom" "Hey, stop it, I'm just worrying about you"

She gave a wave and was quick to leave quickly because according to her she was too late and needed to get there soon. The apartment felt a little empty without her with the sun she always carried with herself, but you could get used to not going places with her for the first time. She always asked you to come along, but this time you were too busy and she understood that.

With a prolonged sigh, your body melted into the sofa and you stood there like an old woman typing things into the notebook on your lap without moving anything other than your fingers and eyes. The worst thing about all this is that she didn't tell you when she was going to come back, of course it's a party and she wouldn't have a time, but anyway it was good to leave an estimate and she didn't even leave that.

Leaving her alone in the world is harder than you thought. Were you really feeling like a mother letting her daughter go out for the first time to an unfamiliar place, It wasn't that Giselle's house was unfamiliar, but sometimes things could get out of hand at a party. A party with mostly teenagers to be more specific, that is, everything will go wrong at some point and you knew it from the beginning. Everyone knows it.

As the night went on you found yourself checking your phone a few times, the time seemed to pass too slowly for you but not for Ning who was having fun. You just wanted a text that she was okay or a call. What does it cost to just say she was alive???Should you worry that much? Maybe...yes...

It was already past midnight and you started to give up waiting for her, well she wasn't going to come back early so all I had to do was go to sleep and hope for the best for her. As a precaution, your cell phone didn't stay silent tonight to listen to calls and messages if she sends something. Finally you lay in bed, without your girlfriend your side seemed much harder, it's strange that there isn't an extra weight on your side to serve as a pillow. What hell would that be.

-

It was like a teen movie: the sound of the phone ringing woke you up with a shock because it was too loud. You can't focus to see who was calling you, it seemed like an unknown number but it was just Karina, one of Ningning's friends calling you, and also one of the people who were at the party.

Your head was too sleepy to think about the worst, so your reaction was the least likely, until you slowly gave up your cell phone without even remembering that you had a girlfriend running around alone at a party. "Who is this? I was sleeping, man..." your head lay down once again on the soft pillow while on the other end of the line you could only hear 3 people talking and background music "If this is a prank I will-" "You’re Ning’s girlfriend right?”

It would be terrifying for anyone to see how his eyes opened now, his mind retraced all the memories of his day and especially that his girlfriend was out of the house "Yes it's me. Did something happen? She is fine?" an awkward silence remained on both sides.

"She's fine...she just drank too much" it was as if Karina wanted to tell you something else but left it aside, but left without success when suddenly Giselle started talking "She mixed drinks with no meaning and now she only talks about you. Can you come get her? I swear to God Winter can't stand listening to her anymore, no offense."

You know it's not the intention to offend or anything, but you still felt a little upset with the way she spoke about it, it would have been better for Karina to have spoken out straight away. "I'm coming" and you were actually arriving, you didn't even bother to change your clothes, you just took off your slippers with drawings and walked out in your pajamas to the car.

Giselle's house wasn't that far making her life easier and lessening her worry about leaving Yizhuo with the three girls, the only one responsible was Karina and she seemed more drunk than the others two. Arriving at the house, his eyes swept over the teenagers and adults smoking or kissing in front. This felt more like a nightclub than a party to you. "Where did that girl get herself?" When I say there were a lot of people making out I say A LOT, no joke.

You left the car parked just before Aeri's house, you didn't want someone to mistake you for an Uber and start having sex in their car that would be fucking disgusting. With her cell phone in her hand, Karina's number was being called, this was repeated more than once as it took her so long to understand and she looked for her head even more. "Hey, where are you? I thought you said you were coming" this time it was Winter speaking.

"I'm already here at the front. You can bring her here, right? I'm..." her eyes went to her pajamas with a big unicorn on the print "... in some trouble here". More and more complaints appeared in the background as minjeong tried to talk to you "Are you serious? Okay, I'm already going with her"

-

"Ning, just let me out of the car, why is it so hard to let go?"

"I don't want to lose you, stay here..."

It was so cute but so irritating to deal with Ning in his drunken self. She was very emotional and very clingy thinking that something will happen when you let her go. She stayed the whole way home grabbing your arm and never letting go — she almost caused an accident, but we won't talk about that. It was for these reasons that you couldn't let her go out to parties alone, especially when it was at Giselle's house.

"We're just going to get out of the car, I promise you can hold my arm again after this." There were so many attempts and the silliest one made her loosen her grip on his arm. "Promise?" her half-closed but still striking eyes went to you as if you were a puppy afraid of being abandoned, despite showing her tiredness it still looked cute somehow "Promise". It was so relieving not to have your arm being held so tightly as if it were a rope squeezing your arm.

The difficulty of taking care of her was only getting worse when you entered the apartment you missed so much. Still feeling like a tree and your koala, you tried walking around the room with her on your arm, the strong tightness returning to give you slight pain that you would have to endure.

"You had fun tonight, didn't you?" you said as you walked with her down the hall towards the bedroom, your mission was to distract her while trying to at least let her sleep in comfortable clothes tonight. "Yes" a drunken smile appears on her lips along with a low laugh. "The party was cool, there were a lot of people there and I didn't even know them all" Ningning seemed to have fun talking about it, her eyes closing in sleep.

"I'm glad you had fun" In those moments it seemed like so much patience and affection in your voice, if not just one thing different would make her doubt you or even cry. "Sit here, let's take those high heels off of you" she could barely walk straight with her drunkenness. Crouching in front of her, You spent a while trying to figure out how to get those high heels off her and they were really high for some reason.

Your girlfriend can't help you, she's too busy lying in bed without making any effort to formulate meaningful words, they were just drunken mumblings, nothing you should pay attention to.

Your help was with everything as if she were a big baby, from taking off her shoes to helping her take a bath. During this she grumbled angrily at every thing she didn't want to do and was soon sleeping in her arms or just staring at you meaninglessly.

Ning was already lying in bed in her own less drunk world as, with great difficulty, she took a cold shower right after getting rid of her clothes that smelled like cigarettes and drinks.

The lights were turned off, you lay down next to her in bed with a tired sigh after everything you had to do tonight, everything was too hectic. "Thank you for taking care of me" a voice appeared right next to her along with a pair of arms and a leg coming over hers "I don't know where I would be right now if it weren't for you"

Your body turns to her side only to see those beautiful eyes looking at you in the dim light of the night, there were more words than in a dictionary "I was worried about my girlfriend, you're still like a baby" a light slap was transferred to your arm as a joke "Stop it, silly".

Both laughter was breaking the silence of the night, listening to her laugh was like seeing her singing the softest melody that could exist. You liked her laugh in the same way you liked hearing her talk, even if it was the stupidest thing she could imagine. Spending this time with her was sacred for you, it would be for anyone because of the way she naturally is.

Little by little you calmed down, Ning getting lost in your eyes more and more and you in the same state as her. The weight of sleep you lost worrying about her began to appear so suddenly, both for you and for her. The silence felt so comfortable, the annoying noise of the party was no longer looping in Ningning's head.

The weight in her eyes caused them to close quickly without any action. She hugged you a little tighter than usual, letting you know that she didn't want to leave you in your sleep. And she wouldn't, not now that the two of them were cuddling together, feeling and taking comfort in each other's warmth for a likely long night's sleep.

"I love you, Y/n…" a soft murmur came out before she fell asleep in your arms.

[lenaspeaksthings]

Facedown - Matty Healy

A/N: I don't shag men irl, so soz if there are any inaccuracies regarding the ins and outs of anal xx thank you to my mates @dh--ii and @awellposhmagazine for indulging in my stupid questions and mental breakdowns in the GC❤️

wc: 7k

content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, pegging, praise, also a bit of degradation depending on how you look at it use of sex toys (strap), mentions of lingerie/matty in womens clothing, sex shops, spit, masochism, cursing, polaroids/cameras, so picture kink?, girlie immortalizes him in a picture let it be poetic

“I want you to fuck me.” 

You choke on air. Matty is a blunt person, always has been, never really caring for beating around the bush. You didn't mind it, but you feel like he could’ve worded that a bit more eloquently. He’s laying on top of you, hair tickling the bottom of your chin, curls obstructing a bit of your vision. 

“Okay, fucking hold up, what?” you're convinced you've misheard him. Even he wouldn't be that blunt. He takes a deep breath, his tone slow and condescending

“I said, I want you to fu-” you hit him, giggling in disbelief. He jumps back in surprise, a grin spreading onto his face. He was actually serious.  

“I fucking heard what you said, jesus.” Matty has this look in his eye when he’s about to do something he knows you won't like, this glimmer in his eye, and you see it so clearly. His hand grabs your face, licking across your cheek, starting from the edge of your jaw. You squirm away, wiping your skin with your hand, throwing curses at him. 

“Fuck's sake, you're like a dog. Behave and I'll give you a treat, christ.” 

“Depends on what the treat is.” he winks at you, grinning widely as you screw your eyes shut in annoyance. He just wouldn't let up, like it would kill him to be PG for even five seconds. 

“So?” he asks, referencing his original statement.

‘I want you to fuck me.’ 

His words echo through your head, making all sorts of images flash in front of your eyes. Of course he notices, trailing his fingers up your bare arm, making goosebumps kiss your skin in his wake.

It's hard to even think straight, the suddenness of the question making your head spin. The two of you had never talked about it before, thinking it wasn't even on the table. 

“Are you- are you sure?” you stutter out, a small part of you scared he was joking, trying to see how you would react. His answer makes you sigh in relief.  

“Never be more sure.'' He's smiling, a genuine, reassuring smile. 

“Actually?” 

“No, I meant metaphysically, philosophically-” he deadpans, but it takes only a few seconds for him to crack up laughing, burying his face into your chest, trying to stifle his giggles. 

You breathe out, weaving a gentle hand through his hair, guiding him up to kiss you, lips locking as he gasps softly. You stay like that for a while, kissing and holding each other, neither wanting to let go. 

“You're mental.” you mumble when he pulls away, brushing a small strand of hair out of your eyes, sweetly tucking it behind your ear. 

“Yet, you love me.” It's so perfect. His body is warm against yours, acting as a sort of weighted blanket, pressing you into the sofa. The scent of his perfume is strong, tinged with a hint of the spliff you’d both smoked earlier.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

You can tell he’s never been in an actual sex shop by the was his eyes widen when you enter, flicking between the multitude of displays and posters, having no idea where or what to look at. His hand grasps yours, one goal in mind as you both step inside, heading towards a specific aisle. Strap-ons. 

Even if it was his first visit, he seems immediately at home, casually browsing through strap-ons and vibrators like he was in a department store, looking at lampshades or containers. At some point, you manage to break away from him, finding yourself in the lingerie section, lace and silk and satin surrounding you on all sides. Your fingers graze over a specific pair of green lace panties, the material soft to the touch. 

Your mind goes back to that night, to the memory of Matty, on your bed, shirtless and panting, the only thing concealing him a pair of lacey black womens underwear. You wonder if he’d be into it, buying more stuff like that, or if he maybe had more back home, hidden in a secret corner of his drawer. 

You're snapped back into reality by a repetitive tap on your shoulder, turning around to see it was Matty. He was holding something in his hand; a light purple, see through strap, decorated with specks of glitter and incredibly detailed. You blush at the sight, before remembering where you actually were. It looked big in his hands, intimidating almost. 

“This one’s pink and glittery! Fucking awesome, who knew they had so many types?” he booms, holding it up right in front of your face. A few people turn, but most ignore his loud proclamation, going back to their own shopping. 

“You're so girly, Jesus christ.” you snigger, stifling a crude laugh. It was so Matty, always one to pick the most extravagant, out of the ordinary, even when it came to sex toys.  

“Don’t make me fucking start-” he threatens, and you promptly cover his mouth with your palm, staring deep into his eyes. 

“Shut it.” and to your surprise, he did. 

He goes back to the isle he came from, looking for more options. You’d expected it to be more uncomfortable, but you felt light, like anything was on the table. Seeing him move out of your sight, you turn back to the fabric you’d been admiring earlier, running your fingers over it, and out of the corner of your eye, something shiny catches your attention. Garters. 

Your core stirs at the thought of Matty in garters, maybe even stockings or heels. You wonder if he’d even be into it, or if that was where his adventures in femininity ended. Lost in your fantasies, you don't even realize you’d picked something up. A black garter, little heart details making it sparkle in the low light of the shop, leather and metal cool against your skin. 

“Oh?” you hear a teasing voice say from behind, making you jump slightly. Clutching the object between your fingers, you spin around, eyes meeting Matty’s, and he has this filthy grin on his face, knowing he’s caught you.

“What's this?” he takes it from your hand, looking at it closely. His eyes light up when he realizes what it is, or more, who it's for. Matty’s ego inflates as he dangled in front of you, relishing in your flustered reaction, a blush creeping onto your face. 

“Is this meant for me?” he asks, pressing it onto his thigh over his jeans, trying to figure out how it would look. He moves to the mirror located off to the side to get a better look, admiring himself in the mirror.

“You don't have to- it's just an idea.” you say defensively, scared he’ll find it weird or odd or-

“It's a wonderful one. Do tell me more, darling.” his hand trails up your arm, landing on your shoulder. You don't have time to react as he pulls you in for a kiss, short and hot. A suggestion.

You stare at him for a few moments, not sure how to react. 

“What else do you want to see me in? This, perhaps?” he struts over to the lingerie section, picking up a pair of silk panties, showing them to you. You nod your head, earning a sly grin and a wink from Matty as he puts them into his little basket.

“Or are you more of a lace kinda gal?” There's a hint of tease in his voice as he holds up another pair. The green pair. 

Your breath hitches as he stares at you, looking for a reaction, smiling victoriously when he sees it. Raising his eyebrows, he wordlessly adds them to the growing pile of merchandise he’s accumulated in the short span he’d been wandering around the store. 

“Fucking hell.” you mutter under your breath as he grabs your hand, dragging you over to the garters. It all seems unreal, the way he confidently shows off the pieces over his clothes, ‘modeling’ for you in front of other shoppers, utterly shameless. 

“I'll wear it for you, you just have to tell me what you want.” he parrots your words back at you. ‘Just tell me what you want, Matthew’

If only he knew. 

“You look pretty in everything Matty, I'd rather you pick.”

“And I'd rather you be turned on, hm? C’mon, tell me, I don't bite.” you giggle a bit at his choice of words, the marks on your neck contradicting his statement. 

“You like it when I'm pretty for you?” he whispers into your ear, the words going straight to your core. Your knees feel weak, ready to buckle at any moment if he keeps talking like that.

Nodding frantically, you press a small kiss to his lips, taking his hand. You lead him to the shoes, heels and boots of all heights and colors stacked neatly in piles against a wall.

“Oh, I'm liking this turn of events.” he grins, hands reaching out to touch a specific pair of black platforms, adorned with small gemstones along the strap. You had a similar pair, knowing just how hard they were here to walk in. 

“You do?” you question, feeling his free hand wrap around your waist, bringing the shoes up for you to touch, the leather rough under your fingertips.

“You turn me on so much, it fucking hurts. I love being your little fantasy, all dolled up for you.” he speaks slowly, quiet enough so that only you can hear. You cough, almost choking on air as he adds the shoes to the basket, walking off as though nothing happened. 

“This one?” he asks, holding up another toy. A pale pink strap-on, less glittery than the last one, but still incredibly eye-catching. You eye him up and down, the way he stood like he was holding the most normal thing ever appalling you. 

“You sure?” he nods enthusiastically, eyes silently begging you to say yes. “Imagine how pretty i’d look, imagine the pictures-” 

Oh, he loved to tease you about those, your collection of filthy polaroids growing larger and larger the longer you were together, stashed at the bottom of your nightstand. 

“Sure you can take it?'' The expression on his face is priceless as you fight fire with fire, his grin vanishing, being replaced with an embarrassed blush dusting his face. 

He wordlessly adds it, walking off in the direction of the till. You follow closely, watching him take a bottle of lube (strawberry flavored, because it's Matty) from the shelf, placing it in the basket.

It was all so new, uncharted territory for both of you. Sure, he teased and you teased back, throwing witty retorts at each other until one eventually gave up, but you were both equally nervous and excited, the idea absolutely thrilling. 

The bus ride back home is slightly awkward, the bags in your hands adorning the very obvious logo of the sex shop you’d just been in, earning judging glances from strangers. Matty remains unbothered, engrossed in an old edition of vogue he’d bought at check out. You watch him leaf through the pages, inspecting outfits and designs, muttering when he doesn't agree with them. It was endearing, watching him critique world famous fashion designers, like his opinion would hold and weight in a proper argument. 

200 quid was what the trip had cost you, spending way more than you had planned. Matty had paid for it with his parents' money that they sent to him every so often, wanting him to be able to live comfortably even if they were away. You felt sort of bad, offering to use your own cash, quickly being swatted away by an insistent Matty.

“I have to pay, seeing as I am a gentleman. Besides, you're going to be taking great care of me later, so-” you manage to cut him off with a stealth elbow in the ribs, sparing the poor cashier from one of his terribly inappropriate rants. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Home is comfortable, much unlike the harsh summer weather and the beating sun that waited for you outside. Unlocking the door, you've met with the soft hum of the air conditioner, the cool air kissing your skin. Matty lets out a relieved sigh as he finally sets down the bags, stretching his arms over his head. You catch a glimpse of his lower stomach, a small trail of hair traveling from his belly button and into the waistband of his pants, which were hung obscenely low on his hips. 

“Do you want to-” you're cut off by Matty’s lips on yours, one hand gripping onto the base of your neck, the other pulling you in by the waist. Despite being almost three inches taller, you manage to overpower him quickly, pressing him into the wall behind him. He gasps against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as you grasp him by the hair, tugging him down to meet you. 

“Desperate, much?” you say condescending, one of your fingers trailing down the hollow of his throat, grazing the skin enough to leave a faint red mark. 

He loved seeing the aftermath of you on his body, and you’ve caught him admiring himself in the mirror more than once, running his fingertips over the bruises and scratches, reliving the moments that caused them. It's not like he left you bare, either, the complete opposite, actually. Your neck was full of hickeys in various colors, some more faded than others. 

He loved using his teeth, and had once left an incredibly obvious bite mark on the skin just above your collarbone, getting disgusted and borderline traumatized looks from both Ross and George. Adam never did mention i, but you caught him stealing glances at both of you, his tell tale ‘what the actual fuck did you do’ look on his face. 

“You’re one to talk, don’t think I didnt see how you looked at me back there.” he smirks against your lips, tongue swiping along your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. You use your body weight to hold him up against the wall, pressing a knee right between his legs, a move he loved to use on you, and watching you grind against him is his favorite sight in the whole world.

His hips buck against your lower half, his hard-on brushing up against your thigh. He groans at the slight friction, repeating the action until you stop him.  

“Please, fuck- please.” he breathes, eyeing the bag on the ground behind you with a look of pure lust on his face.

Your knees feel weak, your stomach flipping as he reaches out to touch your face, trailing his fingers down your jaw and onto your neck, lovingly pressing kisses all over your skin, almost as if to try and convince you of something.

Wordlessly, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, leading him down the long hallway and up the stairs, almost tripping. You near the bedroom, unable to take your hands off each other as he pathetically whimpers into your mouth, nails clawing at your back.

The door swings open and you push him forward until the back of his knees hit the bed, making him fall onto it. 

“Been thinking ‘bout this for a while, haven't you?” he nods slowly, chest heaving from the sheer force of your kiss, leaving him breathless.  

“You can’t imagine.” he answers, eyes looking up at you from his spot on the bed, wide and full of want. 

“So pretty.” you whisper to yourself, reaching down to push his shirt up, revealing that little bit of hair on his stomach, so incredibly sexy it made your head spin. 

“Take your shirt off for me, I'll be back.” you kiss him again, softly this time, not even looking at his reaction before turning around and disappearing through the door. Your legs carry you as fast as they can go, taking two steps at a time as you race downstairs, eyes settling on the hot pink paper bag left abandoned on the floor. 

Rifling through the pile of various clothes, underwear, gags, toys; really anything you could think of, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against cold resin. Of course it was made of resin, ridiculously expensive as well, typical Matty. You laugh to yourself, taking a close look at the toy in your hands.

It was pale pink, hyper realistic veins running down the sides of it, the actual strappy part a deep purple, almost black. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, almost forgetting one vital thing: the lube. 

The sight before you open the door again is one that should be chiseled into stone and hung up for thousands of years. Matty is on the bed, further up so that his head is resting on the metal bed frame up against the wall, it being more comfortable that way. His shirt is off, just like you had told him. 

One thing made you freeze. His hand was covering his lower half, palming his obvious hard on through his insanely tight jeans. It looked painful, well hidden by the filthy smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Kept me waiting.'' His voice is low, raspy, and desperate, even if he tries to play it off. You move without thinking, watching his eyes flicker over to the toy in your hand, which you place onto the bed out of his reach. 

“Not my fault you can't go five seconds without touching yourself.” you shoot back, kneeling onto the soft mattress. 

“Sort of is, isn't it?” he sounds playful, almost giddy as you catch his lips in a kiss. 

“You were begging so nicely before, what happened?” you fake pout at him, putting on a slightly condescending tone as he rolls his eyes at you. 

“I caught my breath.” he says, hands settling on your hips as you straddle him properly, his aching cock grinding against the curve of your ass. It feels amazing, your ego swelling as you take him in, needy and wanting for you and you only. 

“Yeah?” 

“Might have to take it again.” 

You get what he’s playing at immediately, reaching up to wrap your hand around his throat. Matty lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening at the sensation. 

“Fuck-” he’s cut off by you pressing down harder, watching all the blood in his head rush down south. 

“What? Couldn't quite hear you, speak up.” you taunt, loving watching him struggle to answer you, all that came out being rasp gasps and curses.

“Please-” his breath hitches when you reach down to skillfully unbutton his pants with one hand, silently thanking the gods above he had decided to forgo a belt today, peeling the jeans off of him. He lets out a choked moan as you grip him through his boxers, wishing he had worn a pair of women’s panties, knowing it would rile you up even more.  

 “What? Use your words, Matthew, tell me what you want.” you tease, ignoring his silent begging, only slightly letting go of his throat, scared he wasn't properly getting oxygen. 

“Touch me, please.” he manages to force out, tears of relief welling up in his eyes when you take him out of his boxers, stroking his cock lightly. 

“This all for me? All because of that toy? Filthy, filthy boy.” his mind blanks, ecstacy overtaking his body and mind, the only thing he could think of was how fucking lucky he was. The strap is only visible in the corner of your eye as you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, drinking in every little gasp. 

You dig your thumb into his slit, his hips arching off the bed and into your hand, spurts of precum leaking out of his tip. You smile at his reaction, one question still running through your mind. This was all so new, and you were riffing off of what you already knew he liked, trying to build up as much tension as possible. 

“Have you done this before?” he takes a second to answer, slowly nodding his head. You motion for him to elaborate. A pang of insecurity rushes through you at the thought of him doing this with someone else, another person seeing him like this. You push it all down, turning your full attention to Matty. 

“Only alone, trying some things out..” his voice is uncharacteristically small, eyes avoiding you as he stutters over the second part of his sentence, clearly a bit embarrassed. 

“Oh yeah? Did it feel good?” you encourage him, desperate to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He smirks, and you can basically see the memories flash behind his eyes. 

Alone, late at night. Curiosity striking, clothes hitting the floor of his old bedroom. A mess of lube and spit, fingers experimentally curling upwards and finally, finally hitting that perfect spot deep inside of him, making him moan into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound. 

But of course, Matty has to do and say something so utterly stupid, it makes your eyes hurt from rolling them. 

“It’ll feel so much better if you do it for me, darling. Treat me right and all, seeing as I am your girl-” you playfully hit his arm, effectively shutting him up. He wasn't fully wrong, but the way he worded it was purposefully supposed to make you cringe, your eyes screwing shut and hands going to cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Shut up, what is your damage?” you ask, glaring at him as he tries his best to stifle his giggles. It's infectious, and soon you start laughing as well, falling into his arms, losing it at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Can you take nothing seriously?” It's a rhetorical question, but he still answers.

 “Nothing.” he drags out the word, mocking you.

You take this opportunity to tug at his cock, wiping the smug grin directly from his face. It was satisfying, watching him go from cocky and borderline bratty, to a sweet, moldable putty in the palm of your hand, willing to do whatever you asked of him.

 “A-ah oh fuck, i’m not gonna- stop.” he gasps, trying to push you off. You fight back, pinning him down using your entire body, your fingertips ghosting over his cock. 

“Gotta get you ready to take me, don't want it to hurt, do you?” your voice drips with lust, relishing in the wanton sounds he lets out at your words. Matty looks at you, mouth slightly ajar as if trying to say something. You nod at him. 

“I can- I can show you. If you want. We both know how much you like to watch me.” he gestures to the camera sitting on the nightstand, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Go on.” you whisper, your voice cracking. 

He flips around, and you use this little bit of time to slip your own clothes off, leaving your shirt and panties on, settling onto the bed behind him.

His hands reach for the bottle of lube, blindly feeling around for it. You hand it to him with a sickly sweet smile, making his stomach flip as he spreads his legs, a performative moan leaving his lips as he uncaps it with his teeth, pouring the liquid onto his fingers.   

It's weird, seeing him in this position, facedown against the mattress, tugging his boxers down with his clean hand. He can feel your eyes on him, raking over his milky skin, watching him take a deep breath as the cool lube hits his skin. 

“You look pretty.” you hear him snigger into the pillow at the breathlessness of your voice.  “Right? Good genes, innit?” he says smugly, craning his head around to get a look at your annoyed expression.

“Oh fuck off.” you smack him on the arse, taking the piss out of his stupid comments. 

He gasps, and now it's your turn to be smug, grazing your nails over the skin you’d just hit 

“Seriously? That turned you on?” he nods, tracing his lube covered fingers over his hole, shivering a bit before pushing one in. 

A string of moans and curses spill from lips, panting as his back arches at the intrusion. You watch him with wide eyes, taking every minuscule twitch of his body as he curls them slightly, going even deeper. You commit everything to memory, wanting this moment to last forever, and you reach out to trail your hands down his sides, digging your slightly grown out nails into his hips, making him moan into the pillows.  

“Giving me a proper show then. Anything to get my attention, right?” you mumble, leaning over him as he fingers himself for you, groaning and twitching against the mattress, overcome with pleasure.

“It’s working isn't it?” he forces out, the feeling of your chest pressed to his back making his eyes roll back in his head, his tip leaking spurts of precum onto the sheets  

“Fuck, yeah, its working.” 

His fingers brush up against a certain spot inside of him and he quite literally shakes, arching and pushing down onto his digits, his body begging for more. You watch, entranced in every movement he makes, in a sort of daze. 

You could sense him gaining back a sense of confidence when he peers back at you, seeing your blissed out expression at the sight of him fucking himself open for you, moans and whimpers going straight to the growing heat in your core.

“Wanna fuck me? Make me moan for you?” he teases, moving his lube covered hand to his cock, tugging at himself as you pull him closer. The strap next to you burns a hole into your brain, and you reach for it, hand gliding over the resin. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?” That was the final straw that made you scramble up, fumbling with the fastens of the toy, unbuckling them and slipping it over your underwear, the weight of it a bit strange. 

 “I’m going to make you eat those words.” you threaten, one of your hands threading through his hair, pulling his face up before dropping it back onto the pillows. He whimpers at the sharp pain radiating from his scalp, spreading all the way to his fingertips that clutch the sheets so tightly, his knuckles look pale white. 

“It's what I'm counting on, darling.” he winks, arching his back towards you, grinding his arse against your strap. This was really happening. Sucking in a deep breath, you steady yourself on your knees, taking the toy into your hand, circling his hole with it. A sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips as he relaxes into the bed, arse up and face buried into the dark blue fabric of his pillow. 

The sound of the lube covering the strap is a bit awkward, and you both laugh lightheartedly, nervous and excited to do this with each other, to each other. He groans as you finally line up with his entrance, the tip teasing him as he bucks back onto it.  

“Want me to go slow?” you ask, slightly nervous, scared of doing something wrong or god forbid, hurting him in any way. 

“Fuck me slow, yeah?” His words drip with lust, raspy and deliberately drawn out. He notices your hesitation, and his hand reaches back to grab yours, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin of your palm.  

“Jesus, you make it sound so filthy.” His vulgar words were nothing new, his cocky manner only another tool to get you to lose it on him, never showing mercy. Just like he liked it. Rough, hard, fast, never ending pleasure until both of you were fully satisfied. 

“Stop being a tease and just fuck me.” he was now at the point of making demands, blatantly ignoring the imbalance of power between you. You tut at him, nails digging into the fat of his arse, making him wince in pain.

“Not in a place to be demanding things from me, are you now?” your tone is deliciously condescending, making his cock involuntarily twitch under him, begging for attention. 

“You want it just as much as me.” he breathes loudly, a feeble attempt at trying not to sound as desperate as he really was, not wanting to admit defeat. 

“Make me mess, fuck me dumb, I know you want to.” an animalistic groan rips itself from your throat as you push into him, feeling the smallest bit of resistance at first. 

Remembering his little reaction from earlier, you experimentally smack the side of his arse, right where its curve meets the top of his thigh, and he shudders beneath you, crying out in pleasure. You don't know what you're doing, but you do gain a flicker of confidence when he grinds down against the bed, mumbling into the pillow. Asking him to speak up, his face is now visible as he moans, hips pushing back onto the toy as you pull back out, leaving him feeling empty.

You snap your hips forward, a bit harsher this time, watching and listening for his reaction, wanting to make it feel as good as possible for him. He was trusting you with the most intimate part of him, giving up almost all control as his arms go slack under him, nothing holding his body up anymore. 

“Fuckk, that's so good.” he breathes as you set a delicate but even rhythm, speeding up a bit with every thrust as he slowly gets used to the sensation. It takes a few minutes of fucking him at an agonizing pace until you feel his whole body tense up, a choked moan spilling from his parted, spit covered lips. Your breath hitches at the sight of him drooling, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. 

“OH FUCKK- right there right there right there jesus christ, fuck-” he curses, clawing around him, trying to find something to bring him back down to reality as your strap brushes up against his G-spot. There's a wet spot on the bed under him, precum covering the blue fabric of the sheets. 

“Sound so pretty, all for me.” you hit that same spot over and over as he pathetically cries out your name, begging for you to go faster. 

“Please, its so good, so good, fuck me please oh FUCK.” you oblige, gripping onto his hips as you slam back into him, his back arching sharply as you pant, you cheeks a bright red. Your whole body is flushes crimson, your cunt clenching around nothing as you get off to the sounds and movements he makes, your witty words getting caught in the back of your throat

You're so incredibly turned on that everything else disappears around you, your only focus being a desperate Matty under you, writhing in pleasure as he experiences actual heaven, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat, making him glow in the dim light of the bedroom.

Sinful sounds fills the bedroom, reverberating off the walls making you feel dizzy, partially from the effort and partially from the boy in your bed, whimpering your name betweens strings of curses, begging you to just fuck him harder. 

Matty, though he hates it, is awfully predictable. He has cues that let you know when he’s close, his voice pitching up several octaves as you slam into him, never faltering. 

You take the opportunity to press your chest against the curve of his back, hard nipples rubbing against his skin through your thin shirt. Your voice is low, whispering lewd promises against his ear, occasionally nibbling at the skin, sucking a hickey into it. 

“Gonna cum for me? I can see you leaking all over the sheets, dirty boy” he cries at yours, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down his face, leaving small wet patches on the pillow. 

“Yesyesyes please don’t stop- so close.” he begs, every part of his body twitching and tensing, so close to the edge he could taste it. 

You don't know what possesses you. Maybe it was his comment from earlier, his tone playful and teasing, eyes dark with desire. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?”

It's like a foreign force taking over your body. You still, ignoring Matty’s pleas for you to keep going, his hips bucking wildly onto the toy still deep inside of him.

“No- nonono please, i was so close, fuck.” you click your tongue at him, effectively shutting him up

He winces when you move, hand reaching for something on the nightstand, not even realizing what you were doing. The plastic is heavy in your hands, black lense staring back at you as you reposition yourself behind Matty, the tip of your strap teasing his hole.

He thinks you’ll continue as normal, that you'll give him what he’s been craving this entire time. All he wants to do is cum, mind so clouded with desire that he could barely speak properly

Your hands threads into his hair, his neck limp as you pull him up by it. Your fingers find the shutter, knowing you had to act fast to get the result you so desperately wanted.

Pulling his head further back so his whole face was visible, you position the camera in front of it, the sight of the lense making Matty’s heart skip a beat. 

Right as you take the picture, you violently snap your hips forwards, thrusting into him at a brutal pace, making his face contort in ecstasy, mouth falling open, revealing his pink tongue between his lips.

The camera flash is disorienting for him, the shutter barely heard over his impossibly loud moans, his sounds making you feel weightless.

He lets out a high laugh as he fully gets what you’d just done, only proving his earlier point further. His little victory is interrupted by his impending orgasm, the combination of the pressure from your strap on his G-spot and the delicious friction of the sheets rubbing against his cock sending him into a lust driven frenzy. 

His moans are high pitched, almost feminine as he buries his face into his slack arms, trying to bite back his noises. You tell him to quit it, demanding to hear every single cry that leaves his lips.

“You’re such a brat, acting like I cant have you fucking purring under me in the blink of an eye.” you speak, an intense feeling of power and control taking your body as you slam into him, licking up the skin of his bare neck, making him shudder under your touch. 

“I promise i’ll be good- just please let me cum.” he’s a blubbering mess, tears rolling down his cheeks as you tug harshly on his hair, the pain only making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm.

“Please- I need it so bad- fuck, please.” 

“Oh, you need it, do you?” you taunt him, your fingers moving to shove their way into his mouth, pressing down on his wet, hot tongue. The whimper he lets out as you gag him makes your brain short circuit, your eyes are fixed on the way he grinds his hips to meet your frantic thrusts, desperate to get himself off.

“Go on then, cum all over our nice sheets. Make everything dirty, just like you are, aren't you darling?” the filthy words spill from your lips before you could even think, and Matty stills for a second before moaning around your fingers, bucking against the mattress. 

“So good, so fucking good- oh my god, fuck, feels so good-” his words are muffled by your fingers, and as much as you need to hear him, you let it slide, wanting your perfect boy to finally come undone. He cums with a scream, an actual, guttural scream of your name, convulsing under your touch as you reach around and grip his cock, working him through his orgasm. 

He gasps as ropes of cum paint the sheets, covering your hand. You slow down your thrusts, not wanting to rip him out of his dazed state just yet. He whimpers as you pull out, feeling strangely empty without you filling up every inch of him. His body is limp against the bed, chest heaving trying to take in as much oxygen as possible as he comes down from his high, slowly but surely. 

You yelp when a hand grips the side of your arm suddenly, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. Matty’s sweet smile makes your heart swell up with love as you make eye contact, his brown eyes drooped half shut in pleasure. 

“Fucking mint.” he breathes, giggling as you roll your eyes at his utterly unsexy reaction to you fucking his brains out. 

“Really?” 

His smile turns into a grin as he pulls you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against yours. You hand cups his cheeks, wiping aways what's left of his tears.

“I fucking love you, that was world altering, fuck me.”   

“I already did, remember?” the opportunity was right there, and you both erupt into a fit of laughter at your bad jokes, grinning widely at each other. Matty lets out a grossed-out groan when he accidently rolls into the wet patch he had left in the bed, crying at the feeling of the damp fabric against his bare legs.

But, in typical Matty fashion, he opts to just cope, too lazy and fucked out to do anything about it. You try to convince him to get up, shower, maybe do anything except roll around in his cum soaked sheets. He flat out refuses, gripping your waist so tightly you felt Matty-shaped bruises form on the skin. 

He forces you to lay with him, not letting you get up. 

“Did it hurt?” you ask tentatively, genuinely curious. He shakes his head, trying to describe the sensation. 

“A bit, but it felt really fucking great after about two seconds, so totally worth it.” he kisses you again, softer but still passionate, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. 

“Did you like it?” he asks, trailing a finger up and down your arm, scratching it comfortingly. 

All you can do is smile, the memory of what you felt making you giddy. 

“I felt powerful.” you confess, a faint blush spreading onto your already flushed cheeks. Might as well let it all out, right? 

“You like being powerful?” you nod your head, confirming the sneaking suspicion he’s had since that very first night on his living room sofa. 

“I like it when you hurt me.” you laugh, that information having been painfully obvious for a while now. 

“I know, darling, you make it so obvious.” he curses at you for quote un-quote ‘kink shaming’ him, immediately mentioning your little knack for photography. 

“What do you do with the pictures?” you’ve never told him what happens to the polaroids after they properly develop, stashed in your nightstand drawer. 

“I don't kiss and tell.” you snigger at his hurt reaction, now even more desperate to know what goes on in your mind when your finger presses down on the shutter, immortalizing Matty in a picture as small as the palm of your hand. 

“That does not work if I'm the one you kissed, I’m afraid.” you dismiss him with a shake of your head, watching the hope leave his face. He nags you further, offering all sorts of services to get you to confess to him.

“I’ll show you sometime.” his eyes light up, ready to make yet another filthy comment. You press a finger to his lips, shushing him like he was a misbehaved child, smirking at his reaction. 

“Only if you're good, though.” he nods his head so eagerly, you're afraid he might get whiplash as he shuffles closer to you, nuzzling his face into your shirt (well, his goal was clearly your tits, but you didn't need to know that.)

“I'll be so good for you, you’ll regret ever denying me.” you laugh, vowing to hold him to it.  

[dragonsdendoodles]

Dunno if this has been mentioned, but can we talk about (in A Map of Days) Enoch teasing Horace about gaining weight when he complains about the sodium content in pizza?? 😭

So that scene is... weird. To me. Because that part specifically I don't particularly know how to feel about, but the scene itself is my favorite scene in the whole series.

Talk of whatever the fuck was going on in this bit below the cut. Trigger warnings in the tags. (This one is long. There's a TLDR at the bottom.)

This is also a pretty tricky subject, so if I say something stupid, please please please correct me.

Before anything else: a very common interpretation of this scene is that it's hinting at Horace having an eating disorder. I am not here to tell you that interpretation is invalid, because it's not. It was not my interpretation, but it makes complete sense to me. I am not the right person to talk about that interpretation because while I do experience body dysmorphia and dysphoria, I have never had an eating disorder. So I'm not gonna do that.

My personal interpretation of this scene was that Horace is a picky eater and also has body issues and/or body dysmorphia, because those are both things I can relate to. That has always been my interpretation, and after several rereads that's what makes the most sense to me personally. I could be wrong. This is entirely my own interpretation and opinion.

Completely literally, this is what the full conversation tells the reader, before it's brought around to Millard being sent out for the second half of what we want to joke about:

Claire likes pizza.

Horace does not. He picks at it, commenting on the sodium content.

Enoch jokes that Horace doesn't want to get fat and laughs at the mental image.

Horace corrects him, claiming it's more about his clothes, then insults what Enoch's wearing, comparing his clothes to flour sacks.

Enoch specifies where he got his clothes in an effort to dispute Horace's point.

Claire further specifies Enoch's clothes came from a corpse.

Enoch makes a joke about getting clothes at funeral parlors.

Horace loses his appetite at Enoch's comment.

Miss Peregrine scolds Horace for not finishing his food. Horace reluctantly complies.

Horace expresses jealousy over Millard's peculiarity, stating that he could gain as much weight as he wanted without anyone noticing.

Millard clarifies that he's actually decently skinny.

The conversation moves on to Millard's lack of clothes.

If we go over it point by point and dig a little more into it, we get a few more details, which I think are relevant for the most part, so that's what I'm gonna do.

Claire likes pizza. Not particularly important to the scene other than starting it, but a cute detail nonetheless. We love cute details about Claire.

Horace does not. He picks at it, commenting on the sodium content. Horace does not like pizza and Horace does not like olives. (Agreed on the pizza point, but I will gladly take those olives if you don't want them, Horace.) The big thing here is that "There's more sodium in this than in the whole Dead Sea" comment, which isn't a concern someone his age should be having.

Enoch jokes that Horace doesn't want to get fat and laughs at the mental image. The problem child of the scene, because that's a really mean joke to make about someone, Enoch. Thus far the sodium comment makes it debatable how affected Horace would be about it, but still, not cool, man.

Horace corrects him, claiming it's more about his clothes, then insults what Enoch's wearing, comparing his clothes to flour sacks. This is the interesting part to me, because in seemingly trying to return Enoch's rude joke, Horace somewhat confirms that Enoch hit close enough to home to get under his skin. The specific line in question is, "That I'll bloat. My clothes are tailored just so, unlike the flour sacks you wear," which brings up another thing--these books have a habit of finding ways to call Enoch fat. Occasionally it'll be through deliberately calling something about him pudgy, and more often than not it's through stereotyping (you have twelve important characters and you picked the one established fat kid to be the one constantly talking about and stealing food? Really? Olive or Horace would've worked just as well, but whatever,) but this is the only time it comes from another character's mouth. This isn't just a comment, this is deflection. Horace is hurt by Enoch's comment, so he takes the first opportunity he gets to turn it back on him. This is deliberate. (We'll touch on this and the last point again later.)

Enoch specifies where he got his clothes in an effort to dispute Horace's point. He's focusing on the "flour sack" comment, not the implications of it or anything else about what Horace just said. It's just Enoch being Enoch and responding to Horace taking his bait. It reminds me of the scene in MPHFPC where Horace and Enoch suggest gross things for dinner to tease Olive and Claire. (Which I can confirm was them, but that's a different post.)

Claire further specifies Enoch's clothes came from a corpse. Again not super relevant, but not uncommon, fun fact. During the French Revolution when someone died they would immediately start taking the clothes off of them because I mean they're dead, they don't need it anymore. Just something I think is cool.

Enoch makes a joke about getting clothes at funeral parlors. Back to my MPHFPC point, Enoch has been established to be willing to say things just to freak people out. Just because Horace did it with him does not make him immune to it.

Horace loses his appetite at Enoch's comment. Reasonable reaction. I don't want to hear about leaking corpses when I'm already being forced to eat something I don't particularly enjoy. Like pizza.

Miss Peregrine scolds Horace for not finishing his food. Horace reluctantly complies. Classic parent move. It does suggest that the previous conversation isn't very concerning to her, because if it was she'd have said something during it, and she isn't someone who would hear that about one of her kids and just not care if it was something bad. Personally this lowers my concern level a bit, but I also like Miss Peregrine a lot more than other people I've talked to about this, so take that with what you will.

Horace expresses jealousy over Millard's peculiarity, stating that he could gain as much weight as he wanted without anyone noticing. The other concerning comment Horace makes. It all but confirms he is struggling with body image issues of some kind, though we don't know how severe they are. It confirms that Horace's reply to Enoch wasn't just about his clothes, and that if Enoch didn't hit the nail on the head he came pretty close.

Millard clarifies that he's actually decently skinny. This is something we kind of already knew, it just clarifies Millard's body type a bit more. In MPHFPC when he faints Enoch says it's because he "ain't as fit as he pretends to be," so now we have a little bit of detail on that. Regardless, I don't think it particularly helped the situation, but that's unfortunately a theme for Millard in this book.

The conversation moves on to Millard's lack of clothes.

Essentially, the big things we learn from this conversation are that Horace is insecure about his body and that he will tolerate Enoch poking fun at him about it.

The whole conversation, at least Enoch and Horace's contributions to it, revolve around their insecurities or lack thereof. Horace all but confirms he has body issues, and Enoch could honestly go either way: he doesn't react at all to Horace's jab back at him, he only focuses on the insult about his clothes. Enoch could not care how his body looks at all, or he could have avoided responding because Horace's comment had the same effect that his had. We can't tell from that alone, but I'm leaning towards the first option, because in the same book Horace comments on Olive eating a lot and Enoch jokes about her gaining weight as well. (Olive doesn't respond, Olive doesn't care.) His comment to Olive is more lighthearted than this, which I don't think it would be if it were also an insecurity of his.

The reason my feelings are conflicted about this scene is the way Horace and Enoch talk during it. This is played as a joke, it's very obviously meant to be comedic banter between two characters who are known to take shots at each other for the sake of comedy. That's all well and good, but this scene also proves that Enoch touched a decently sensitive nerve here, and Horace doesn't respond particularly uncomfortably. Yes, he deflects, but it reads as if they can only have this conversation because of how comfortable they are with each other. Horace avoids situations that make him uncomfortable, so if he was hurt too badly by Enoch joking about his body issues he'd have shut the conversation down instead of biting back. Enoch is also established in nearly all of the books to care very deeply about his loopmates and their feelings--if he genuinely hurt Horace, he'd have stopped completely, as shown with Bronwyn about Victor in MPHFPC. They've also known each other for what is implied to be nearly if not the whole time the initial Cairnholm loop was open, after seventy years being as close as they are shown to be they would know each others' insecurities. Enoch's significantly more likely to test Horace's limits, but he's absolutely smart enough to know what buttons he can and cannot push: look at the fight he has with Jacob at the end of AMOD. He cuts pretty deep at the end there, but had he not known (or cared) about Jacob's issues with Abe, he'd have said a lot more than, "You're not Abe, so stop trying to be," and he'd have said it a lot sooner.

It's a conversation that flows somewhat naturally and is portrayed a lot lighter than most people would take it, and arguably lighter than it probably should be. The way it reads to me is similar to how my boyfriend and I would talk and joke about our own insecurities, which leads me to believe they can only do this because they know they both know the boundaries. No boundaries appear to have been crossed here from both of their reactions, and this scene is all but forgotten when it's over. If anything this solidifies to me that the narrative wants us to interpret them as very close if not best friends, because a conversation like this wouldn't have happened otherwise. Horace doesn't let random people bully him. He threatened to bite someone, remember. He threatened to hit Jacob once too.

Personally, their exchange is far from a normal conversation, but I think that's the point. Narratively speaking, Enoch and Horace's friendship is fucking weird--you tell me why the nervous yet arrogant neat freak spends most of his time with the jerkwad who probably doesn't shower unless he's forced to and frequently bullies him. Their entire dynamic revolves around lovingly picking on your best friend. The whole point of this conversation is to strengthen that idea in the reader's mind, that they're close enough to be able to take these shots at each other without worrying they're going to hurt the other. Yes, Horace is implied to have gotten hurt, but at most it's only slightly. He doesn't react too much to it other than making a couple of concerning comments about his own image, which are pretty much immediately moved on from because at the end of the day it's really not all that important.

TLDR: It's a weird conversation about a touchy subject that is promptly forgotten about afterwards, which implies neither Horace nor Enoch think it's too big of a deal. Ultimately, it doesn't matter to anything other than giving us insight into Horace's character and Enoch and Horace's weird-ass friendship. It's not a comfortable conversation for anyone except them, and I'm pretty sure that's the whole point. The whole scene overall is still my favorite in the series, because I think it sets up what AMOD's going to be pretty nicely and my juvenile sense of humor means Enoch's singular allotted dick joke was a lot funnier than it probably should've been to me. (Sorry, Millard.)

[bluegekk0]

Idk if it's the way I perceive fpk, or if it is intentional, but he looks like he has upper body strength. Is he equally strong everywhere, or does have a specific strength?

He does, I put extra effort into making his arms look more muscular so I'm really glad you noticed! He's generally quite physically strong now, and if you took all his fat away, he would be fairly muscular. The arms are the most noticeable because of how his fat distribution works - he's fatter in his lower body, that is his stomach, legs and the base of his tail.

It also makes sense that his arms and upper torso would be the most defined. Whenever he goes hunting, he does a fair amount of climbing, not to mention the most effective way to chase his meal is to run on all fours, and for that he needs very strong arms. Then there is his workshop, his projects involve dealing with metal objects and stone among other things. He primarily fixes and tinkers with small items like watches, but he also delves into designing and upgrading larger farm equipment and similar mechanical constructions, which are a lot heavier. And because he works alone, he has to carry everything himself, so he gets his daily exercise and builds his muscles.

He certainly enjoys his food, he's without a doubt a foodie (though his childhood trauma also plays a role in how much he eats during hunts), which is a contributing factor to why he's so visibly fat, but it's also connected to the role the extra weight plays in his body. The fat protects him from injuries but it also helps him keep warm and regulate his body temperature, which is crucial for living on the surface in such a cold climate. And unlike Grimm, the kids, Hornet or Holly, he doesn't have fur or an exoskeleton-like shell, which would shield him from cold, so his body had to adapt in its own way.

As a little fun fact, this is something which wouldn't be that unheard of among his kind. I imagine his home land to be a somewhat cold desert with large sand dunes, which periodically experiences winters, including freezing temperatures and snow. So there is a precedent for his body, albeit physically much different in this reduced form, to have this kind of adaptation for cold climates, which wouldn't be visible until now. Before that, he lived underground, and the lack of a proper diet (or any, really) meant that he wasn't able to build any extra fat. Over time, he started losing even more weight, but that's something I already talked about in the past so I'll end this side ramble here.

But to bring this back on topic and to answer your question, he's physically strong all over the body. His tail is flexible, but the base is very muscular under all that fat. This lets him use it almost as a third leg, it acts as counter balance but he can lean on it to support his body if he needs to. His legs are very strong, allowing him to jump quite high up, certainly higher than you'd expect (though the fat tail does drag him down a bit, so he's not as skilled of a jumper as he could be). He can walk, trot and run with no issue, although it does resemble a clumsy waddle, mainly due to how short and stubby his legs are. Already talked about the arms so I won't repeat myself, I'll just add that the nice result of all his physical exercise is that he can lift up and carry Grimm for quite some time, which I think is a very cute (and slightly amusing) mental image. His neck and back are also worth mentioning. The neck is a bit short, but it's decently muscular, which is necessary considering his large head. And his spine, similarly, has the strenght needed to carry all the extra pounds he gained, so he doesn't suffer from back pain (well, unless he spends all day carrying large boxes of heavy materials without taking a break).

So all in all, despite being fat, he's physically healthy and strong. I think it makes sense considering all I said. Plus it's just really fun to think about all of his physical traits working together like this. And it goes to show that relying on soul in his past just couldn't replace all those processes needed to make him as healthy as he is now.

[m-jelly]

Hi! Hi!

Just wanted to start off by saying you’re my favourite writer that does levi x tall! reader works. So many people make levi taller than the reader when for me his face just reaches my chest.

That being said!

Could you do a levi x tall! slightly curvy! reader where they work in a plus size store but bc they can only wear the smallest size, customers constantly point it out and it makes them feel insecure about themselves. (i.e. they come home feeling down and not good about themselves etc.)

This may or may not happen to me often…

Anyway, tysm, bye!!

So, reason why I make Levi taller is because I don't do Canon as a main writing thing. I do AUs a lot and for me, in modern or other, Levi would not be deprived of the essential things to help him grow properly. So, he'll have all the food he needs and will be in the sun. Therefore, he wouldn't be 5ft3 but much taller around 5ft6-5ft8 because it was mentioned his father was short.

Now I don't normally do body-specific readers because I like everyone to be able to put themselves into the role of reader. However, because this involves needing Levi to reassure you about your body, then I am happy to make it because Levi loves you for you.

@kenkopanda-art <3

Don't listen

Pairing: Levi x Tall! Slightly curvy! Fem! Reader

Genre and tags: Specific reader, modern AU, being a couple, emotional comfort, body issues, comforting Levi.

Concept: You come home feeling like crap and Levi provides you with comfort to your troubled mind.

Warnings: Body image issues are talked about in this fic. Please avoid if this makes you uncomfortable. Please also note the reader has a specific appearance as well.

Levi looked over at you in the car and noticed you had a troubled look on your face. He gripped the wheel as he drove and thought about what he could say, but he wasn't sure. He wanted you to talk first instead of pushing and pulling at the subject.

He perked up when he saw a coffee place you liked. "You want a coffee?"

You gripped your skin a bit. "I shouldn't."

"Says who?"

You whined. "I just...I shouldn't."

"Talk to me."

"You'll think I'm silly."

He glanced over at you. "I love you, so anything you say to me isn't silly."

You rubbed the back of your neck. "A customer complained today about me."

"Oh?"

You nodded. "She didn't like that someone my size worked there. I do shop there, but I have the smallest size they have and well...she didn't like that. She said she believed that people should be bigger than me if they're going to work there."

"Right."

"I don't know what to do. I'm too big for some people and too small for others. I feel like I'm trapped in the middle. I try and lose weight, but it's just not shifting. I try and love myself as much as possible and I get so close to being happy with my body, but then someone makes a comment and I feel like shit."

Levi turned the car and pulled up to a parking spot at the coffee place. He leaned his head back against the seat. "Don't listen to them, okay? You are incredible." He looked over at you and smiled. "I know no matter how many times I say it, or how much I shower you in love and praise you won't always believe it. I know I cannot fix the damage in your head that years upon years of disgusting people have done."

"Levi..."

He turned his body to you and smiled. "I love you with everything inside me. You are my world and my life. I love you just the way you are. Don't listen to those shitheads, okay? Those that lash out at you for your body do it because they too are hurting. They attack because deep inside they are hurting and damaged. They think that hurting others will make them feel better, but it doesn't. They will keep hurting others until they face themselves."

You smiled a little. "You're right."

He caressed your cheek as he smiled softly. "I love you so much. You're an incredible woman. You are my precious goddess and I love worshipping your breathtaking body." He pulled you closer and kissed you. He said your name against your lips. "I love you."

"I love you so much, Levi. Thank you."

He kissed you again and hummed. "So, what would you like from the coffee place?"

You blushed a bit and mumbled. "My usual."

He smiled. "Great." He got out of the car and helped you out. He held your hand and looked up at you. "Don't worry, okay?" He leaned up and kissed you. "You can always go for another job. Want me to help you look?"

You smiled a little. "Sure, yeah I'd like that. Be nice to be somewhere where people don't judge me."

Levi hummed. "I think that's impossible, my love. There are a lot of nasty people out there. No matter where you work or go, you will always encounter horrible people. All you can do is spread kindness. Your kindness can make someone's day, just like a mean person can ruin another person's day."

You hugged Levi tightly causing his face to be pressed into your breasts, which made him rather happy. "You're so smart and amazing."

"Mm, thank you."

"For the hug or the words?"

He looked up at you. "Both. Now, let me spoil you."

"Okay!"

[sillyrainydays]

babbling about charlie spring and how important he is to me (tw for EDs, OCD, self-harm, and brief discussions of passive suicidal ideation !!)

i need to yap i need to babble. charlie spring guys. charlie spring probably means more to me than any character ever has. so many aspects of his character are deeply relatable to me and they give me so much hope. i just want to go into like. why . 1) having an ED that is not about his body image. i have ARFID. while my habits and symptoms are very different than his, seeing representation of a character with an eating disorder that is NOT related to body image or weight was so cool and important for me. 2) OCD. oh boy. i didn't even realize that i probably had OCD until i read heartstopper. i thought my obsessions were normal. i thought my compulsions were normal. i figured either (1) everyone had them and i was just having a harder time coping or (2) i was a bad person. having a character that shares those struggles really made me feel less alone. 3) this one is harder to talk about. i actually started struggling w sh a week before i read heartstopper for the first time. without going into detail, i was using a very superficial method and convinced myself that it didn't count, despite very much being self-harm. about a year and a half later, i started struggling with the same uh. methods. of self-harm that charlie did. i was terrified and ashamed, but charlie's arc made me feel less alone and less guilty. it reminded me that i could get better. i also wanted to specify that charlie's self-harm being specifically NSSI (non-suicidal self-injury) was SO important to me too. while i have definitely experienced passive suicidal ideation (and it is implied that charlie has too), my self-harm was NEVER done with suicidal intentions. (EDIT FORGOT TO MENTION: i am now 250 days clean :D) also surprise a fourth one! (4) his relationship with his mom. while my relationship with my mom is fairly different than his with his mom on the surface, there can be a lot of similarities. my mom and i don't fight because i don't really stand up for myself. but a lot of the time she says and does things that are fairly harsh and damaging to me. but, similarly to jane spring, my mom has good intentions. my mom's mom was terrible to her, so she never had that good example of a good parent and never had therapy to properly work through the trauma. like. anyways that's it charlie spring is so me! thank you alice oseman for creating a character that means. so so so much to me.

[captainmera]

What does Camilla think about how skinny Hunter e is ?

Nice bait.

There will be no body shaming of any kind on my blog.

I'm sure you are well intended but I am going to say this now, so it is out there:

All bodies are beautiful. No shape, height, fitness or size equals unhealthy or healthy. I don't want to be part of the weird obsession people have nowadays.

But in good faith, and hoping I'm not stepping right into bait here, I'll answer the question beneath here:

(cw body-image and ED mentioned)

Let me say first that any body type for Hunter is fine in my book. Skinny, average, chubby, fat, fit - as long as he's a happy guy, I think any interpretation is good.

If you're implying his skinniness is out of maltreatment and abuse, I think it would solve itself by him just being in a better environment. It's not something Camila would have to bring up with him and make him self-conscious about.

If it was, she'd have to do it with all the other skinny characters too - you know, like her daughter. Who's skinnier than Hunter.

Yeah, Hunter is specifically described in the show as both "scrawny" and "sickly" when he's at Hexside (by Amity's siblings specifically), to give subtext that he has not been taken care of by Belos and is generally not doing so well. So I can see why Camila would be worried.

But again, I don't think that's something she'd have to have a targeted conversation about. 'Nor would his friends. He's in a safe place and he's treated well, his health would improve on it's own and probably without him even noticing or thinking about it.

Pointing it out would just make him aware there's something he "needs" to pay attention to. y'know, the opposite of being helpful.

I think the only thing Camila could say to him about how he looks would be "you look well" or "you are looking happier" once his health is improving. Y'know, positive affirmations. Things that makes a person feel better about themselves as a person, and not applying value to their appearance in a size/shape it's in.

If you are implying that Hunter has an ED, I'm going to shoot that duck where it stands and this conversation is over.

Not because it's a bad thing or even an unrealistic take on him - I can see that as him trying to have control over himself when he has no other control, especially in Belos' household.

But I don't want to talk about EDs or body sizes/types from an ED perspective.

As someone who has had everyone and their parents comment on my body my entire life, in every size it's been in, I just want to say that people share unsolicited opinions about peoples bodies too haphazardly and it is very rude and very damaging.

The "concern" is often from a selfish place of either morbid curiosity, moral righteousness, or a desire to know "tricks" whatever the cause for weight (not health) gain/loss is good or bad. It's all very judgemental.

Seldom have I ever received a compliment or concern that isn't with masked intent in regards to my appearance.

Please refrain from asking more body-image questions to me in the future.

I apologise if I have come off as cold and stern.

I hope you will forgive and allow my attitude.

that's all.

thanks.

;-;

[yakult-noir]

Long Rant about Baldur's Gate 3

Content warning: intrusive thoughts mention, body image, very mild spoilers of act 3 (does not mention characters or specific events, only implies)

-

Honestly, playing Baldur's Gate 3 has helped me with a lot of issues that therapy failed to do. I'm playing two runs at the same time, one of which is the Dark Urge.

I am having so much fun playing the Dark Urge. Its helped me with my intrusive thoughts without me noticing. Whenever I struggled with intrusive thoughts, I couldn't push them away no matter how hard I tried, and it would always make them worse.

I sometimes felt horrible because of it even though I knew that wasn't my fault and doesn't say anything about what sort of person I am.

The Dark Urge struggles in trying to repress violent thoughts lest they act on them and commit atrocities. Intrusive thoughts aren't as dire in that you won't actually commit the atrocities in real life, but playing the Dark Urge helps cement that fact further.

And I'm not even getting to the companions yet. I struggle with the fear of what other people see me as. I try to appear as someone a bit different (personality wise) but struggle a lot when I make even a singular mistake or do something that makes me feel like an idiot.

The companions are still loved and still retain their image even though they sometimes make dumbass mistakes.

They've also helped me deal with the fear of getting older. I've never played games much where the main character/s are canonically in their late 30s to 50s. And the fact they're still made out as attractive is very reassuring.

I don't see that happen a lot, not without them trying to look as young as they can to be seen as attractive.

Overall, the companions feel so much more real and lifelike than a lot of other video game characters.

I don't exactly know why or even how to explain it, but I've never liked the idea of having a physical body.

I've always had a complicated relationship with how others view me and my own body image. I also struggle with trying to wrap my head around what's considered socially normal and feel completely detached from other people's experiences.

I can't actually 'feel' out my feelings without intellectualising them or comparing them to feelings of other people. I usually use the concept of other people as a rough template of how to do things and how to react. Things always feel complicated and 'too-real'.

If that makes sense. Like a realisation of "holy shit there are consequences? Do I have control? Is there a control? How do I avoid Bad Consequences? How do I react?"

Lowkey kinda feels like a child just testing out just doing things for the first time. Mind you, I do have a mental illness and have been kinda repressed for a bit of my life.

Any experience I have with doing daily life stuff or with relationships has been from reading about other people's experiences and noting down what to do and what not to do to become the Ultimate Perfect human being.

And that means I always feel uncomfortable with my body, talking about private things, even talking about supposedly 'risky' things that aren't even risky or shouldn't be seen as such (like menstruation, lingerie, clothing, weight fluctuation), wondering if I just did something socially taboo even if it's like an unspoken rule I've never heard of, and then wondering if I'm unpleasant company or a little too strange to hang around a lot.

So playing as the Dark Urge and romancing Astarion has actually helped a lot with discomfort in talking about random things in friendships and just feeling more comfortable being in my own body and having human experiences.

Especially since the companions just say whatever, and are even straight up rude and say things that wouldn't be socially acceptable in real life, but they're still liked.

I mentioned mental illness before, but Baldur's Gate 3 has some of the best representation about having ordinary experiences and consequences of being alive. I love how in the game, you have the option to help the companions the best you can, and no matter what, there is no closure. I haven't completed the game yet, so this is stuff I spoiled for myself.

Even if you get out of a difficult situation and learn there's a better way to live and do things, it's still horrible and painful and you're still not sure if you've done the right thing or not. You don't get any awards (that are obvious at least) for dealing with the problem you've faced most of your life.

You've still got to deal with your own emotional issues that are there as a result of the problem and that you will probably spend the rest of your life trying to deal with.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

in sickness and in health

Written for Danktober 2022 Day 10: Pregnancy, Crabby, and World Mental Health Day

Frankie Morales x F!Reader "Wifey" (22+ only)

Summary: It's your third trimester. You've been wandering the house after dark, searching for the self you'd loved just briefly.

Warnings: Body image issues, pregnancy, negative self-talk, brief mentions of PTSD symptoms and damage to one's mental health due to disordered eating. Fear.

A/N: decided to take this opportunity to lean really really hard into proper wife guy culture instead of feeling shame for perpetuating the topic. Frankie's a good husband.

[full danktober list here]

[Don't Call Me Wifey series masterlist]

If you are experiencing severe emotional distress, suicidal ideations, or thoughts of harming yourself, please seek professional help. While it seems tempting to reach out to strangers on Tumblr and spill your trauma and problems and dark thoughts into their inboxes, you do not have explicit consent to do that.

You do have consent to call a hotline for these topics. In the US, you can dial 988 for the National Suicide Prevention Hotline. If you are outside the US, this is an up-to-date directory of international suicide hotline numbers.

Note: this fic in particular does not cover the topics of suicide or self-harm, but seeing as it's World Mental Health Day, I wanted to spread awareness of these resources. Thank you. <3

P.S. It's also National Kick-Ass Day. But I think mental health is pretty kick-ass anyway.

P.P.S. The elephant in the dividers represents the mascot for Mental Health Awareness, Ellie! Don't be afraid to address the mental health elephant in your room.

"Mama, what are you doing up?" Frankie asked from the doorway. You'd been getting out of bed several times a night recently, just wandering around the house like you were looking for something. Whenever he asked, you'd clam up and wouldn't want to talk about it, and you were starting to worry him.

You were seven months pregnant, and definitely showing how far along your daughter was growing inside you. Frankie knew you adored carrying his child, and his compassion couldn't read minds, but he could tell you weren't the happiest with how your body looked recently, or what it would continue to look like after giving birth. You put your hands on your lower back and finally faced him, showing him the tear tracks on your face.

"Mama, what's wrong, what's got you crying?" he asked, rushing over and gathering you up in his embrace. He still had that sleep-warm heat radiating off of him, and you focused on that feeling while you spoke.

"I've been having nightmares," you admitted. Frankie tensed. He got nightmares too, from his time in the service and flying in warzones, but this was different, he knew. "They're silly to talk about, but so, so scary when I'm in them."

"Don't say that, your fears are never silly. Let's sit down, over here, comfy spot." He directed you to the couch, specifically the corner you'd designated as yours, the comfy spot. "What's on your mind, baby?"

"I've been dreaming about… about you leaving me. Because I'm too much. Too much weight, take up too much space, too much of your energy and time, too much room in our bed—"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on baby," Frankie said before you got too frantic. He looked devastated that you felt like this. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since the pop." Since you started showing that you were pregnant. Frankie rested his head on your shoulder for a moment, gathering himself.

"Why haven't you told me this until now?" he asked. "That was almost four months ago."

"Because I want you to only see that I like being pregnant, Frankie!" you said, temper flaring from one end of the spectrum to the other in an instant. The shock on his face had you bursting into tears. "I just don't like myself."

He stammered for a moment, not sure how to proceed with so much happening in front of him. "Have you told Dr. Ha about this?" he asked, knowing you probably told your therapist your feelings. You nodded through your tears. "What did they say about it?"

"That they're irrational fears left over from when I used to be self-critical, and the pregnancy hormones are pulling out all the stops and won't let me rest or enjoy this." Your hand idly traced over your belly, round and full and sometimes active way too early in the morning. You smiled sadly at it. "I'd just started getting used to liking my body when it started to change again, and now I'm caught between loving how I feel and fearing how I look."

Frankie nodded and put a hand over yours on your baby. "Do you know why I make sure to tell you how beautiful you are to me?" he asked gently, almost in a dazed voice. You shook your head no, and he told you.

"You are worth making sure you know I love you. You are worth more to me than numbers and measurements and scales and sizes. You've always meant more to me than that. Whenever I'd tell you about how beautiful you are, back when we were first dating, you used to look so sad. Like I couldn't understand that I was wrong.

"But I know what it's like to kick yourself for whoever's in the mirror looking less than perfect. I know what it's like to deny yourself love for the sake of your self-esteem. I know all that. And I know that little voice in your head that says I'll leave if this, I'll leave if that, it shuts up when I talk because it's not you saying it. And me talking had never been enough to stop you from talking."

You laughed, sniffling through your tears. His face matched yours, wet and smiling.

"So I try to quiet that voice whenever I can, baby. Whenever I can, I try to make you smile, make you laugh. You know why? Seeing your smile quiets that voice in my head, too."

Thanks for reading! See y'all tomorrow for some Daddy Whiskey!

[tummysmoocher]

Tw for talk of disordered eating and body dysmorphia (nothing graphic or specific, just mention of someone who struggles with it)

•

•

I’m seeing someone currently and they have major body image issues and it feels very hard to know what to do to help them change or at least alter their mindset in a more healthy way. Idk if this makes sense at all. They used to struggle with a binge eating disorder, but over the last two years they pivoted into being obsessed with weight lifting. They’re very fit currently but they still have major body dysmorphia. It really sucks because it’s hard to reassure them that their body doesn’t look the way they think it does without also implying or reaffirming to them that “fat is bad”. It’s like, how do you make someone with obvious disordered thinking patterns understand that being fat is not a bad thing but at the same time that is not even what their body looks like regardless? Either way I just don’t know the best way to go about it, because I want them to try and unlearn their internalized fatphobia both for their own good and just for the good of that fact that it’s something that everyone should unlearn anyway. (On top of that and obviously not important but just a sidebar: I would feel insanely weird telling them abt my kink at all because I feel like it would negatively impact the way their disordered thoughts are considering the history they have with food, weight gain, and body image issues, while also changing how they may trust me or my words/actions in the future.)