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#that doesn't fuckin apply
emelinstriker · 1 year
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my rant of the day
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argonianfeather · 3 months
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moonlight has a bit of "im the only motherfucker in all tamriel who can defeat the guy (giant flying lizard) and keep him from ending the world" privilege in that ppl (Meridic cultists, Vigilants, ect.) who absolutely would want to put her head on a pike for multiple reasons (vampirism, necromancy, ect.) mostly leave her alone but are like "as soon as the big bad wyrm is defeated i'm gonna van helsing your ass" and moonlight who isn't really paying attention to any of those threats on her person specifically is like
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slvttyspider · 7 months
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i have a little headcanon that Val has a wonky antennae because Angel tried to fight back once and it got bad. really bad. Angel has bite he just learned the very important lesson about sizing his fights that day. he still does with others if he's intoxicated enough, he wouldn't feel the punches n shit. but. yeah. Angel tried once. that was an extremely long time ago. hasn't been the same since.
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winterdebts · 10 months
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actually hey do you think maybe in 20fucking24 we can stop making people feel like shit for their interests ?? please ??
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wild-houseplant · 2 years
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Hello Plant, lovely friend ^^ I am a-coming with questions. Oh would I have loved just putting the whole post into your asks but that would be unfair to everybody else who wants to ask questions and maybe also be a tad bit overwhelming. So I've made a selection. Feel free to pick the ones that tickle your fancy the most and ignore the rest ^^
3. What architectural or design aesthetic would best suit them?
7. If your OC could meet any historical or past figure, whether in the real world or in their own canon lore, who would it be and why?
13. Is your character bilingual or multilingual? Yes she is Which language are they most comfortable in or prefer using? How did they come to learn them? (Also if I may make an add-on which language are reserved for which occasions? What's the socializing language? The academic language? The work language? Does she learn Antivan?)
23. What sort of routines, rituals or rules do they have or set for themselves? (What is her procedure to make herself comfortable after a long day of work? Bold question, may be a tad bit personal, if so please ignore)
I hope you're having an amazing day!!!!
Henlo my excellent friend :3 Thank you for sending the lush asks! I will answer them ALLLLLLL 8D
Under the cut, because like Aurelio and Revka, I am incapable of keeping it concise.
Okay, so 3 (what architectural or design aesthetic would best suit them?). I'll be the first to admit I'm not au fait with the industry terms. What I can say, though, with regard to general preferences:
Most important thing for Rhodri is that stuff is clean and in reasonably good repair. With the exception of hairline cracks in the buildings, which any Tevinter will assure you adds character, broken tiles and the like should be replaced. Also important is to make the place look both imposing to outsiders, but welcoming to familiar people.
Some clutter indoors, especially books, is encouraged, but only on table surfaces (never on the floor, as Tevinters consider it dirty, no matter how many times you mop it).
I've always seen Tevinter as a place that has a lot of sandstone and marble, so I figure plenty of the buildings are made out of those two things. Especially the upper-crust villas like what Rhodri grew up in.
In terms of decorations, better with trees and gardens rather than fancy statues. The symbol of Tevinter can either be carved into the sandstone, or in a banner hanging at the front of the villa.
High ceilings, please, and an atrium indoors, as it's hot as buggery year round in Minrathous. Make it nice and light, too. It's a beautiful, sunny city.
A couple of pictures below if that helps (links embedded in the pics):
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close to ideal house. God help me for using minecraft. Make the land flat and stick a gazebo out the back for watching the afternoon thunderstorm, and that's a wrap.
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Someone made a Tevinter-inspired courtyard, though I would just make this their atrium. MeggieRock took a whole bunch more pictures; I just chose the one I liked best. They're all amazing, though. I'm not quite sure if that's what the question was asking or not. Was I close? haha :D lmk if not!!
Number 7 (If your OC could meet any historical or past figure, whether in the real world or in their own canon lore, who would it be and why?)
Oh, easy choice. Zevran's mother, hands down. Naturally, if she could plan it out, she'd take Zevran so he could meet her, but if that wasn't allowed, she'd take a list of questions and information to pass on to her mother-in-law on Zevran's behalf.
One thing I never really thought of until now is that it would have been quite a thing at the wedding to see the Imperial Chantry packed to the rafters with Rhod's family and friends and friends of the family and and and... But then not a soul from Zevran's side. People would've been astonished. Northerners have huge networks, and Zevran comes empty-handed to his own nuptials? It's sad, honestly. Especially because even though Tevinters don't marry for love as a rule, the marriage does signify two households becoming much more linked. Really, you don't just marry one person, you marry the whole family.
On the plus side, Zevran has a whole new gaggle of people who love him to bits, so it's very much a net win. Even so, Rhodri was looking forward to the whole +1 family add-on with whomever her father was going to set her up with. So the chance to say g’day to her mother-in-law would be something she’d be absolutely jonesing for.
Assuming Zevran isn't allowed to join in on this, meeting Zevran's mother would be a very emotional event, I think, for Rhodri and her mother-in-law both. Not least because this poor Dalish woman realises her only child has gone and gotten hitched with a Tevinter Magister, oh my GOD. I dunno, though, I think Rhodri's candour and very plain affection for her son (she practically sings odes about him as it is) would reassure her. She'd probably be heartbroken to hear Zevran went through what he did with the Crows. I’m sure she’d be very proud of him too, though, especially as Rhodri waxes lyrical about his heroism and kind heart during the Blight (and every other point in time, honestly) .
And yanno, marrying into fabulous wealth with a spouse who's willing to do anything for him, well. It's a turn-up for the books after Crow living. This lady would probably be content enough to let Rhodri go (only after ALL her questions are answered) with some ominous warning about haunting the shit out of her if she breaks Zevran's heart. Fair enough, honestly. What loving mother could do more?
13. Is your character bilingual or multilingual? Yes she is Which language are they most comfortable in or prefer using? How did they come to learn them? (Also if I may make an add-on which language are reserved for which occasions? What's the socializing language? The academic language? The work language? Does she learn Antivan?)
Ooh. Ooh ok. Let's see. I can't say Rhodri dislikes Common, because it's her mother's native language (though Revka does speak Tevene) and her mother is a SAINT, damn it! BUT Rhod's far more Tevinter than Kirkwaller, culturally speaking, and does have a heavy preference for Tevene.
The trouble with Common, as any proud Northerner will tell you, is that it's not so much a cultural language these days, but rather a trade tongue. A lingua franca, at most. Those poor bloody Fereldans and Marchers, Maker help them, lost their cultural language and can only speak Common now. Where are the culturally-specific words for certain moods, circumstances, weather phenomena, celebrations? Where's the language made by the first of their people to live there, that ties them to their homes and families?
She uses Common when she needs to. Everyone does. If anyone with her doesn't speak Tevene, or doesn't feel proficient enough, she'll speak Common, as basic courtesy dictates. With Kirkwaller family, though, she uses it more joyfully. Especially when she gets a chance to whip out the dreadful sandblaster Kirkwaller accent and horrify everyone but her mother, who was the one to teach it to her.
(HC if needed: I have assigned various accents and dialects of the English-speaking diaspora to the Marcher nations and beyond, as I'm sick of RP everywhere. Kirkwallers speak Australian English; Starkhaveners have the most gorgeous Glaswegian (feel free to picture Sebastian Vael screaming "Whae fuckin widnae! Eh? Think ah fuckin widnae? Ya fuckin radge!" when challenged to a fight). And those splendid people in Tantervale delight us all with the linguistic beauty of Belfast!)
For all other matters, she speaks Tevene. I'd say she's evenly bilingual having grown up speaking both, but Tevene, which is much more expressive and emotional, communicates her and her inner workings best. Lots of Tevene doesn't translate well into Common, and she forever bemoans that, because it makes it much harder to get her message across. The pain of having to explain 'te amo plenissime' while Zevran's still learning, oh god. She thinks and dreams in Tevene. Any poetry or important, heartfelt things she writes-- Tevene (except to her mother, of course). Magical research is more easily written in Tevene- Circle mages across Thedas use a lot of Tevene loanwords for magical things because of course, magic was suppressed outside of the Imperium.
She does learn Antivan though! Luckily, the two countries have very similar linguistic roots-- in fact, my HC here is that Antivan developed from Tevene, and they haven't diverged too much yet. I'd say it'd be like being a German speaker learning Dutch. The trick is keeping your own first language out of your target language's turn of phrase. Zevran and Rhodri both pick up each other's language without too much trouble once they're living under the same roof again after Awakening.
23 What sort of routines, rituals or rules do they have or set for themselves? (What is her procedure to make herself comfortable after a long day of work? Bold question, may be a tad bit personal, if so please ignore)
Rhodri, who has been watching me type all this for her, has asked me to pass on that, 'iucundis can ask me anything at all, and we will not be ignoring this question,' so there you have it!
I don't think there's anything very specific to the busier days that would feature, to be honest. Her schedule is embedded with the things needed to keep her comfortable. When she was a little sprout and had come home from a long day, she was often fairly tense, especially if she'd gotten dirty. Her folks found that the best solution was to drop her in the bath and read to her, and then give her dinner. Most problems can be fixed by getting clean and having a good meal, really.
Even now, bath and food works wonders. Bathing with company or without, she doesn't mind. (Ironically enough, given its fussiness about modesty, Tevinter has a big bathhouse culture, and friends and family love a day out together at the spa/baths.)
That aside, if she's tired or stressed, it's more painful as a rule to deviate from the schedule, so if she has things that need to be done, she's found that it's better to half-arse them to get to bath/food/bed quicker. Dealing with the fallout is Tomorrow Rhodri's problem. My little rebel. <3
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hexastitchimera · 18 days
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Y'know, it's cases like Orchard's (and even "hunter" personalities like Mamämax) that make me genuinely perplexed on why predatory individuals will ride the highest horse against their own behaviour. I know it's a way to deflect attention from their own nasty shit, but it's always a self-defeating method once the same community that rallied in their name learns about the contrary.
What's worse is that they can fall from upon high into the deepest shit, and have the gall to walk right back into the townsquare, covered in their crimes like nothing happened.
Often enough, some- if not many- of the townsfolk will re-cover their eyes with wool too.
#vee vibrates#“You are not immune to propaganda” really fuckin applies here because even *I myself* (as a young unaware teen having survived horrors) ...#... looked to Max for hope. That people cared about bringing justice to survivors when the courts were too lazy and negligent to.#Again I was just a teen who had been taught L&R that people like Chris Hansen were Saviors of Children in the flesh.#So as I grew up and Max's details/videos started fumbling I realized that something was wrong with how invested he was in his cause.#The “I could cancel you Charlie bc I'm the ped hunter” comment made me realize what a megalomaniac he was & how he profitted from his role.#This isn't to say that ALL advocates for something are bad people trying to hide their sins. B&W thinking like that gets people killed.#But it's mindboggling to see those who make their advocacy their entire identity/reason for living often be the same perps of the same abuse#Again absolutely not always. I think the biggest distinguisher is seeing what an advocate is getting out of their work.#If their goals are outward-oriented (i.e bettering life for all) with little to no financial benefit then it's hopefully a noble indicator.#If there is a pull to “amass funds to help the cause” and that money is solely going to the advocate for them to “distribute themselves”#I'd wager that's a massive red flag because even in my own experiences with IRL advocacy & organizing. it. doesn't happen like that.#Dons are carefully stored with and kept track of via 3rd parties BECAUSE dons are heavily preyed upon by misery profiteers joining the cause#(This is ofc highly dependent on if access to 3rd parties is around; something that causes like for 🍉 have to adjust around for example)#But yeah huge red flag if the advocate is not only trying to get all the spotlight away from actual sufferers/victims but the money too.#Orchard & Max are extremely alike in this regard even if Orchard's “advocacy” is just more bigotry lol.
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designedparadigm · 1 month
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y'all ain't gonna like that k/in/k post and not send something to me 😩
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trans-leek-cookie · 1 year
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Truly we herald this as the autism website. And God damn it sure is the website of having autism but not fucking understanding that autism is different in different people. Also for a website that says shit like "ppl will send hate mail but be afraid to make a phone call" I don't think some ppl have actually dealt with a serious argument in a long time cause they cannot handle the most minor shit
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I think some of y'all fr are trying not to understand the lyrics to fob songs
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((Y'all are severely limiting yourselves in regards to my blog and muses and that's a damn shame.))
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lovifie · 4 months
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Masterlist Phone Sex with Boyfriend!Simon
"Are you home?"
”Are you home?”
That's the signal that you have learned, and the only one Simon gives you, your phone rings as soon as you send your positive answer.
“Hi, Simon.” You say with a singing voice when you pick up the call, pressing your phone against your ear.
“Hi, darling.” His deep voice grumbles through the phone, making you bite your lips as the sound travels down your body. 
The indubitable sound of his buckle being toyed with sounds loud and clear in the background. 
“Aw, Simon… are you missing me, sweet boy?” You say with a pout in your voice, using your shoulder to hold your phone while you twist off the cap of the nail polish bottle. 
“Every bloody second, sweetheart.”
Your heart warms with his shameless declaration, making you smile even though he can't see your face. 
“My pretty boy, I miss you too…” The line stays quiet for a minute, only his breathing audible; until you break the silence. “Does your pretty cock hurt, darling?”
“Yeah, fuck, yes it does.” He groans, a squeaky sound of the spring of the mattress sounding under his voice. He must be thrashing around on the bed, desperate. And you thought you had trained him better. 
“You should do something about it then, Simon.” You say, raising your foot to rest on the edge of the chair kicking your slipper off. “Don’t you think?”
“Can I?” His breathless voice betrays him, letting you see as clear as day how desperate he is. 
Good boy.
“Of course you can, love.” You answer, chuckling to yourself.
The response is immediate. Loud in the silence of the call, you hear how he gets his belt undone, throwing the buckle back carelessly so his aching member can find solace in the harsh wrap-up of his hand. 
His first moan comes to life right after the first tug, desperate, to the point it makes you wonder for how long he has fought with himself to not call you only to get conquered by the lustful needs of his body.
The buckle of the belt jangles in the background like a metronome with each flick of his wrist, the telltale sound of the rhythm he is setting.
“Talk to me, pet. Please.” His voice is whiny on your ear, desperation oozing out of each syllable, almost enough to make you feel bad about how unbothered you are by it. 
It's not that having your poor boyfriend calling you in desperation to hear your voice so he can actually cum doesn't turn you on, c’mon, you are not made of stone. But it also feeds your voracious ego, filling you with cockiness that you know he will quickly wipe out of you the moment he's back. 
But he is away now, and in this situation, you have the upper hand; threatening to close it around his neck knowing he would enjoy it more than yourself. And it would be such a waste of an opportunity if you didn't choke him a little bit. 
“Have you been thinking about me, love? Hm? Is that why you are so worked up?” You ask, picking the brush soaked in nail polish and applying it over your thumbnail. His whiny moan of your name is all you get as an answer, choppy breaths surrounding it helping it travel right to your core. “Been thinking about me touching you, hm? Wrapping my lips around your poor weeping cock, Simon?”
“Fuckin’ hell, luv…” He groans back, you hear the springs of the mattress again when he moves.
“Are you lying down, Simon?” You ask when you are on your third nail. A weak, high-pitched whine is all you get as an answer, a yes, you assume. “Stop then.”
queaky queaky queaky
“Simon.”
queaky queaky queaky
“Simon, stop touching yourself.”
“What?” He's breathing so hard it is almost difficult to understand him.
“Did I stutter? Stop touching yourself. Hands up, pretty boy.” You almost don't recognise your voice, an authoritative tone improper of a civilian talking to a lieutenant.
But he obliges, immediately, if he wasn't breathing so loud you could have heard the soft thud of his length falling red and angry over his abdomen. 
“For god's sake, sweetheart, please.” He groans, but you can no longer hear the mattress squeaking or his buckle being shaken. Obedient little soldier he is. 
“Who called me?” You ask, acting incredulous that he would now not let you do your part. He mumbles a tiny “me” making you smile once again. “Then do as I say, love.”
He huffs without a further complaint, waiting for your next words so he can finally move. 
“Put me on speaker, and the phone on your chest so your hands are free.” You say, moving to paint your other hand. He does as instructed, hearing the rustling of his shirt as he lays his phone. “Now wrap your hand around your dick, both of them, tight. And move, slowly!” 
You punctuate the last word with emphasis, hanging on the line to hear his movements but all you hear are his pretty sighs and puffs. You groan, making him stop in his movements once again. “Not your hands, Simon. Your hips. Move your hips.”
“What? Like-”
“Yeah, Simon. I want you to fuck your fists and imagine it is me the one your fucking.” You say, chuckling when you hear him moan. His voice sounds suddenly loudly and you assume his phone must have slipped up toward his face when he planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting his hips up. 
“There you go, good boy, Simon.” You say, melodic voice making Simon shudder as he throws his head back, moaning shamelessly as his hips move faster and faster to meet the tight embrace of his fists. 
Every time that an especially loud whine falls from his lips you coo at him, the mental image of him with his eyebrows furrowed, teeth digging into his bottom lip to try and catastrophically fail to keep his voice down making your mouth water. 
He calls your name again, begging for your attention as he mumbles incoherent words and you pity him only when you are done with your nails, waiting for them to dry as you turn your attention to him. 
“C’mon, darling.” You half-whisper to him. “Give it to me, love… Think that it is not your hands, think that it is my pretty cunt around your dick right now. I know you can.”
A cry of your name. 
“Think is my sweet cunt sucking you in, hm? Doing that thing that you love me to do.”
A low groan.
“Think that you are fucking me stupid, Simon. Moaning your name and milking you empty, love.”
A minute-long silence right before a chain of curses starts to spill from his lips, the squeaky sounds of the bed growing irregular as he cums over his own chest in thick spurs making him dizzy. 
You blow on your nails, happy with the results and waiting for your dear boyfriend to come down from his high as you sweet talk him. “You did so good, Simon… My darling… My sweet boy… My baby…”
“Watch it, you little minx”
You shiver at the sudden switch, remembering the temporal aspect of your position. Downing on you every single word you just pronounce and every condescending tone you use. 
Luckily for you, his deployment is meant to go on for a couple of weeks longer; enough for him to grow desperate enough and not pay you back with the same coin you just used. 
No need to worry about the consequences of your actions any time soon. 
“And by the way, sweetheart.” He says once his breathing is back to normal, the sound of his buckle jangling again. “The OP was cut short and I'm getting home sooner.”
You swallow. “How much is sooner?”
“Tomorrow's night”
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ambreiiigns · 2 years
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i feel like i'm gonna make a secret ghost sideblog bc my art is fuckin bopping in this new era i'm in like i'm peaking in january. like. i need to post in on the tumblr. for the ghesties
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simpee9000 · 24 days
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Not Just Friends - 10 -
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M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.
Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.
Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.
Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.
You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.
But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.
The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.
"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.
"Huh?"
"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"
"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.
His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"
"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.
You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."
"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.
"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.
"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"
"How?"
You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."
He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."
"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.
"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."
You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."
"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."
"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.
"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"
"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.
"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."
"You love your quirk," you pointed out.
"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.
Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."
His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.
"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.
"Fuck you."
"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."
He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."
"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.
With success, his quirk popped off again.
"Fuck off."
You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."
"Die."
He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.
He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"
"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.
Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."
"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.
He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.
Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.
"Nothin' to say?"
You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.
"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.
"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.
"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.
"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.
"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"
"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.
His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."
Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.
Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.
A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.
As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.
"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.
"I wish I could," you teased.
He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.
"Stop what?"
"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.
You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"
The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.
"Fuck off," he grumbled.
"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.
"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.
You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"
He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.
Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.
Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.
"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.
"I know."
You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"
He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.
"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.
"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.
With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.
"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.
He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."
"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.
He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"
"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.
"No way to know," he shrugged.
"You're such an ass," you groaned.
His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.
"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.
"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."
You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.
"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"
"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."
Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.
"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."
His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.
"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."
She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."
"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.
"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."
You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.
"The fuck?"
"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."
"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"
"Not helping," you glared at him.
"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.
"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."
"How does that prove I don't hit you?"
You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."
He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.
"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.
"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.
You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.
"Everyone?"
"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.
"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.
You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."
He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."
"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.
"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"
"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.
When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.
"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.
"Could always call me," he spoke softly.
"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him
"Yeah?"
You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."
He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."
"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.
"Good."
"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."
"If you want," he shrugged.
"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.
"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."
"Okay."
"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.
"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.
"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.
"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.
"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.
"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"
"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."
"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.
"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.
"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.
"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.
You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."
"What? It's how it should be."
"Will it stain?"
"Shouldn't."
"I hate you," you glared at him.
"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.
"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.
"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"
"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"
Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.
You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.
The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.
A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.
It singed your top, burning your skin.
You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.
His hand was placed right over your old scar.
Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.
---
-Next Part-
In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months
Text
second thoughts ♡
toji fushiguro x fem!reader
your ex keeps popping into your head during sex with toji, so he'll just have to make sure you can't think at all instead
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, size kink, dumbification, mentions of intrusive thoughts
tags: @gor3-hound @nexysworld
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"Right here," he growls, "Look right here. Right in my fuckin' eyes."
His large hand held your head in place by your jaw. He gives it a sharp jerk, jostling your thoughts into place. Making sure you're completely focused on him. His lower half thrusts against you hard and fast, stretching you out with each rock of his hips.
"'m lookin'" you whine, your lips parting as little mewls fly out.
"Good. Good girl," he grunts.
The muscles in his abdomen flex as he keeps pounding into you. He wasn't taking it easy on you tonight. He was determine to make sure you couldn't think of anything but him.
The past couple of weeks things had been off between you two. Since you started dating, your relationship had always been very physical. You had sex once a day at minimum, and when he wasn't inside of you, he had a hand somewhere on your body. He may have struggled with true intimacy, but physicality came easy.
The problem he'd noticed recently was you didn't seem as into it as you usually were. You seemed kind of spaced out. You got pretty quiet when you were typically vocal.
His first reaction was insecurity. Was he not pleasing you? Were growing bored of him? The possibility of that unnerved him to his core, but he tried to convince himself those couldn't be true. You never denied him when he initiated, and you still loved to cuddle and hang off his arm whenever you could.
After another round of you looking distracted while he was balls deep, he finally just had to ask.
"Sorry..." you'd said, looking up at him sheepishly, "I just... I'm having trouble focusing."
Your tone almost made him feel guilty for asking, but your reasoning didn't answer all his questions. He knew you had trouble with concentration and intrusive thoughts sometimes. He just didn't think it would apply to this.
"Focusing?" he murmured, ducking down to plant some kisses on your cheek, "Am I not doing it right, baby? You know... I'm open to pointers."
"No... it's not that. It's just..." you continue. You hesitate as to whether or not you should actually tell him.
"C'mon, angel face," he said, nuzzling your jaw, "You know you can tell me. I want you to feel good too."
"You do make me feel good," you reassured, "It's just that I can't get my brain to be quiet. And when we're doing it, I keep thinking of my ex boyfriend, and it doesn't feel good. I don't like him at all, it's just like my mind wants to bug me."
Even though the idea of you thinking about another man during sex causes jealousy to flare within him, he reins in the instinctive anger he feels. By the pained look on your face, you clearly were just as displeased with it as he was. And while it hadn't happened in a while, he couldn't pretend like he'd never had his late wife dance through his thoughts in the heat of the moment.
So he didn't make you feel bad about it. He sighed and told you it was ok. You wanted to finish though and so he got you both to finish. He held you after like always and let you fall asleep against his side, but in his own mind, he planned for things would be different next time. There was no way he was gonna let some other guy keep you from enjoying yourself with him.
That's what led the both of you to now. He keeps your gaze locked with his own as fills you to the brim. Your eyes are glossy but with the haze of pleasure now rather than distraction, and he can't enough of it.
"That's right, babydoll. It's all me now, isn't it?" he coos lowly in your ear.
"Mhm," you whimper and nod, your head bobbing extra from his momentum.
"No room for anyone else," he grunts and digs his fingers into the plush of your cheeks.
Your lips puff out under the pressure, and he leans down to mash his mouth against your own. The kiss is wet and sloppy, your saliva and his mixing together while he nips at your bottom lip. He ruts into you faster, his breaths growing more ragged.
"Fuck.. Toji," you whimper arching your back and pressing your tits up against his chest.
"That's all you're gonna be able to say when I'm done with you, sweet thing," he says.
You whine and nod. That was what you wanted. Just him. If he was the only thing on your mind, you were happy. A big, dazed smile drifts to your features to match your fucked out eyes.
"That's a biiiiig smile, princess," he coos mockingly, "Who's making you smile like that?"
"You are," you whimper.
"Right. No one else can make you smile like that," he says.
You nod again and yelp when his cock rams into a sweet spot inside you. He chuckles at the sound and lifts his hands to rest above your head, caging your body below his.
"My baby. You're all mine. Mine to fuck dumb every. single. night," he pants.
"Don't want anyone else. Just you," you babble and drag your nails down his back.
"I know it," he says.
He then quickly reaches down, securing your hips with an iron grip and fucks into you as deep as possible. You see stars stars and let out a sound you can't control. You tighten around him like a vise, keeping him nice and deep where you need him.
"My Toji," you slur and bring your own hands back up to slide through his hair.
He moans quietly, and his eyes flutter shut. His hips sputter a bit as he feels his release creeping up on him.
"Gonna cum soon, dollface. Get you nice and full of me so even when I pull out, you know who that pussy belongs to," he mumbles.
You mewl in ecstasy, eager to feel him shoot deep inside you.
It doesn't take long for you to get your wish. His body lowers against yours, his flushed, sweaty skin sliding against your flesh. He pumps into you desperately with a groan as he drains himself between your tight, velvety walls.
He lets it all sink inside you before pulling out. His cock is still slick with your arousal. He leans back and pushes your thighs up, taking a look at your pussy stuffed full of his cum. Just how it should be.
Up top, you were still blissed out. He huffs out a laugh at your drooping eyes and contented expression.
"How you feeling, baby?" he asks and crawls back on top of you to give you some lazy smooches.
You hum and rub your nose against his cheek. Words were too hard right now in the best way.
He smirks and nips at your nose teasingly.
"Head all clear?" he whispers.
"Mhm," you say with satisfaction, opening your eyes wider and taking in the face of the man who had you now, mind and body.
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ghostaholics · 1 year
Text
𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 '𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓' 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
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➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader
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➸ CHOKING: he doesn't squeeze that hard – just applies enough pressure the way you like it until that familiar glassy-eyed expression falls over your face, something lust-addled; he always uses his left arm, the one that's all tatted up, consists of intricate pieces he's collected over time until it's formed an elaborate black and white collage that’s inked into his skin – he enjoys seeing how you try to enclose two hands over the entirety of his muscled forearm but can't quite round off the circumference of it, not even trying to get him to pry his grip from your throat, but to keep him there and occasionally prompt him for a little bit more constriction if you need it (❝ Look so fuckin' good like this, don’t you love? ❞)
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➸ FAVORITE POSITIONS: anything that can get him as deep inside you as possible, bottomed-out so that he can watch you take every thick inch of him which includes, but is not limited to
(1) mating press or any other variation of it – basically an aggressive 'missionary-style' that gives him the advantage of pile-driving into you, will try to ease your legs onto his shoulders for as long as you can handle it; also likes this because he can still see your eyes roll back in between thrusts when he just grinds into your cunt for a bit while he takes a break and plays with your clit (❝ Greedy cunt's just swallowin' me whole, innit? ❞)
(2) face-down, ass-up - has to pull on your hair a little so you bring your head up to make sure your mouth's not muffled by the pillow (he needs to hear each long, drawn-out moan he can get from you every time he brushes up against that special spot inside you); very primal and powerful, allows him the opportunity to see the arch of your back like this while he's gripping onto your hips for leverage but it's also just so fucking tight and deep (❝ You can take it all, can't you, sweetheart? Yeah, that's my girl. ❞)
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➸ DIRTY TALK: typically more reserved in day-to-day conversation, had to work up to being vocal in the bedroom, which now consists of a diverse mixture of low groans, lots of swearing (fuck, shite, or whatever other word that accurately expresses everything he's feeling when he hasn't got a single coherent bloody thought at the moment), as well as any filth like
❝ Gotta stretch you out – work you open on my fingers… Y’know it’d be a shame to wreck this tight, little cunt before I’ve had my fill. ❞
❝ Can’t wait ‘til you milk every last drop of cum from my cock, love. ❞
❝ Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please.’ Let me hear you beg for it. ❞
❝ Christ, I’m gonna flood this fuckin’ cunt. ❞
❝ Do I look like I’m done? Lettin’ my cum leak out… I don’t think so sweetheart. Gotta fuck it back into you now. ❞
❝ Again – love, I'm not stopping until I get another one outta you. So be a good girl and fuckin' come for me. ❞
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➸ SPITTING: has a few places he’s fond of; will lift up his mask just above his mouth in order to make it happen
(1) in your mouth, tongue held out in anticipation – he discovers that you’ve got a thing for spit play after a particularly hungry and feverish kiss that has him starving for you, swallowing down your moans, and when he pulls away there’s sort of a wet, glossy little sheen left behind on your lips that you run your tongue over; so, you ask him if he can spit in your mouth because you feel like you need more than just a kiss – he obliges because it reminds him of his cum on your tongue after he asks you where you want him to finish sometimes
(2) on your pussy – absolutely no valid reason for this other than the fact that he really likes rubbing his spit into your cunt and watching it mix with the slickness in between your legs just to make an even bigger mess than the one that’s already there
(3) in his hand, covering his palm – uses it to coat his cock with a few passes over the length of it with his fist, a few harsh tugs at his shaft and a smear of his precum at the head; doesn't really have to because you're wet enough (still wishes he had the opportunity to get you completely fucking soaked, except the circumstances won't allow it), but he's pressed for time, knows it won't be better than the natural lubrication of your own arousal and doesn't care too much since the idea of it makes him that much harder right before he slides on home into your cunt
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➸ EATING YOU OUT: he loves it, needs it; heaven between your legs, groans whenever he gets a taste of you, can't resist grabbing handfuls of your ass to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth, tongue flattening and stroking and licking its way into your cunt as you rock down, hips rolling, squirming under the iron-clad grip he's got on your thighs – craves the hot slick rushing out of you, doesn't want to waste a single drop but can't control the way your orgasm liquefies into a sticky and clear wetness that paints his lips and his chin (❝ C’mere. Gonna have you make a mess on my face. ❞ )
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➸ DACRYPHILIA: when you're wrought with overstimulation, so, so sensitive after he's ripped the first few orgasms from you – tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a stinging, burning sensation growing in your throat as you try to tamp it down until the first wayward drops of brackish water escape, rolling over your cheeks unsolicited not because the sex hurt but because it was too good and you can't sort out the knotted tangle of emotions you harbor for simon; he asks in a rough and hoarse voice if you're okay, brushes the tears away in a questioning gesture with scarred knuckles until you admit exactly what the cause is, which elicits a deep moan from him signaling that he might just give you another reason to cry
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➸ TEASING: rubs the head of his cock against the entrance of your awaiting cunt, back and forth, slowly, just so he can hear you whining impatiently for him to put it in because you hate the feeling of being empty; maybe you should ask nicely, try being polite – it might be the solution to putting an end to your misery
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evie-sturns · 8 months
Text
𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 - 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰
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summary: you walk downstairs, wearing a skimpy minidress for your friends party, matt doesn't let you go.
contains: smut, dom!matt, argument, yelling, overprotective!matt.
-------------------•◌•◌•★•◌•◌•-------------------
i pull up the straps of my white minidress, its my best friend, lexi's, 19th birthday. i check myself out of the mirror before walking out of me and matt's shared bedroom.
my high heels click on the stairs as matt looks up at me, his eyebrows furrowing.
"where are you going?' he asks, manspreading on the couch.
"just lexi's house, its her 19th." i say chirpily, grabbing my purse.
"is it only gonna be you and her?" matt questions before standing up off the couch, walking over to me casually.
i scoff, "no? theres gonna be a few hundred people, im excited!"
"go get changed." matt says sternly, looking me up and down. i instantly roll my eyes "why should i matthew."
matt raises his eyebrows, "you're wearing half a fucking dress, i think you're forgetting you have a boyfriend?" he says, pointing to himself.
"matt." i groan, applying a coat of lipgloss before unlocking the front door.
"its thin, i can see your fucking tits clearly." matt says, stuttering slightly. "why are ya looking?" i tease, putting my gloss in my back before walking out onto the front porch.
"y/n. i'm serious." matt says, raising his voice slightly as he grabs my wrist with a firm, but not painful grip.
"just cause you're jealous doesn't mean im changing!" i yell, turning around to face him.
matt takes a step back, his eyes widening.
"don't be stupid." matt says before pulling me inside and shutting the door. "go, look at what your wearing in the mirror sweetheart."
i try to pull away from his grip, but he doesn't let me go. "fuck off of me matt, i'm going whether you like it or not!"
matt shakes his head, "no you're not. you're being a brat and you look like a slut wearing for that."
my jaw goes slack before i start "but matt!-" im cut off by his finger on my lips. "you're not going baby."
"fine!" i yell, dropping my purse and kicking my heels off, one of them hitting his shins.
"dont be snappy." matt says, letting my wrist go as i stomp upstairs.
"fuckin' tantrum." i hear matt mumble under his breath before he flops down on the couch.
-
it’s not even been 4 minutes before matt’s knocking on the door to our bedroom, i’m laying on the bed wearing panties and a shirt, i mean after all matt did tell me to change?
matt comes in before sitting on the end of the bed.
“what do you want.” i say in a huff, folding my arms.
“i want you to realise everything i do is for your own sake.” matt says in a ‘know it all’ tone.
i stay silent, my lips pouting.
“you understand?” he says, putting a hand on my thigh.
i nod.
“mhm.” he mumbles before standing up off the bed and walking over to me, still laying in the same position on the bed.
“you’re gonna loose that fucking attitude.” matt says, clearly irritated.
i roll my eyes, matt tugs down my white lacy panties, discarding them across the room.
“mattt!!” i yell, closing my eyes.
“gonna dress like a slut you’re gonna be fucked like a slut, got it?” matt says harshly as he pulls my arms up, lifting my shirt off.
i nod nervously as matt flips me over onto all fours before pulling on my ankles, yanking me to the edge of the bed.
“look to your side.” matt demands, i comply, looking at myself in the mirror beside our bed.
“matt..” i mumble as he pulls down his sweatpants to his mid-thigh. his erections springing straight out, hitting his stomach.
“arms behind your back.” matt says, pulling my arms and holding them behind my back.
he slams into me full force, i let out a loud scream, biting the silk sheets.
i hear matt chuckle as he slams into me at an unheard of pace. “fuck fuck fuck!” i shout, squirming my arms which are pinned in place from one of his hands.
“this is what happens when you want to have such a big ego.” matt says in between thrusts.
my legs shake as he pushes my back down, forcing me to arch even more. “taking me well aren’t you.” he mumbles as his thrusts become more frantic.
“keep looking at yourself.” matt says, using his spare hand to tilt my head back to the side.
i feel myself clench around him, orgasming with a scream of his name, matt keeps thrusting, overstimulating me.
he quickly pulls out of me, painting my back with white streaks.
my mouth is agape with shock as matt rubs my thigh “oh my god stay still.”
he grabs the white mini dress of the floor before using it to wipe my back clean. “you okay..?” matt says, worry in his voice before handing me the dress
“you can go to the party..” matt says, pulling the dress onto me.
“what..?” i mumble in a dazed tone.
“you’ll be to sensitive for anyone to fuck you even if you wanted to..” matt says innocently.
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i wrote this in the shower 😛😛
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