#rip the convent dress

[randaccidents]

Absolutely HILARIOUS that I have an irl fit that is almost one to one with the Penitence outfit, INCLUDING THE FEATHER NECKLACE. The only thing Im missing is the skirt because I don't own one and its too warm to layer up that much. And I wear it regularly because its my comfort fit.

I'm basically cosplaying Penitence at a convention rn and no one knows HAHAHA.

[sundial-girl]

Do you have any references for your sona? (Or oc or something I’m sorry if I got that wrong)

no ur right that's my sona (ig?) lolol

im gonna b real w/ u i dont have any proper reference for em 😭😭 its??? just me in a random ass bee costume 😭 lmfao

idk if this helps but here's smthn kinda shitty i did on my phone just now of me. some things are still kinda off but? reveal i suppose

[wwwyzzerdd420]

I really just do not get women At All

[usedpidemo]

Cruel flower (Jo Yuri)

“You sure you really like my dress for today?” 

For the record, this is the fifth time Yuri has asked you this question. Whether or not you disagree, your choice doesn’t matter. She’s going to show off, and for good reason.

You’re not the only one anticipating some antics on stage.

To be fair, they’re not exactly the kind of antics you’d expect, as though one makes a fool of themselves like it was part of a humiliation ritual. Yuri is much more intricate and flirty, as seen with her choice of outfit for today’s performance. It’s tasteful with a hint of sexy, yet easy on the eyes. The kind that leaves your mind questioning as to why she dresses herself like someone she’s not, even if you enjoy staring at her bewitching appearance. 

She makes your heart race in countless ways you never knew could happen.

“I mean—even if I said no, you’ve already made up your mind. So what is the point,” you tell her, covering your mouth, your gaze peering down at the garter and stocking combo completing her floral ensemble. To say they complement her would be an understatement; even by her relatively tame standards, this is a little too bold and showy for her fans.

But the thing is, it’s not her normal audience she’s performing for. Thousands of fans are lined up all over the convention floor, mainly to see their more popular favorites. Not helping matters is that she’s one of the rare handful of soloists, the number which you can count with just your fingers, which typically don’t generate as much interest as an average group. Right from the start, she’s fighting an uphill battle, and this is her one of the limited opportunities to steal everyone’s hearts and attention, especially on a bigger platform.

Yuri turns around from the mirror, having put on the finishing touches of her makeup, facing you with a dour, mocking pout. “You’re no fun.”

Indifferent, you brush her off. Her contemptuous responses are part of the package, something that encompasses your daily routine. The less you entertain her, the better and the wiser you are, especially during these more serious times. You’ve learned that you find yourself less likely to fall in danger when you don’t give Yuri even the smallest of openings.

Unfortunately, it’s a lesson you have to be reminded of more often. 

“But you gotta admit, I look really good, right?” she questions you, as if you haven’t been ogling her from the moment she presented herself to you in just her lingerie, garter and stockings. The dress is just the cherry on top of what you consider near perfection. 

It’s intentional trolling at this point.

“I don’t know,” you tell her, hiding no hint of sarcasm. “Could use a little less”—you suddenly stammer—”You know—”

“Could use a little less what, babe?” Yuri approaches you, seated on the couch, pressing her palms on your knees, smirking, plotting. The thin layer of dress sweeps forward, revealing some cleavage and her necklace. She’s all up in your face, her lips nibbling on the ridge of your ear, her neck flashing a still fresh hickey from earlier in the day, her hot breath sending chills down your spine—her favorite form of showing affection. 

If you had any less restraint, you’d take her on this very couch, rip off her clothes and fuck her on said mattress in every position imaginable. Forget the crowd, much less the fact that you’re in a backstage room, where the walls are paper thin, so much so that even the slightest sounds can be heard from the outside. No matter how you spin it, there’s always clear and present danger waiting for the most inopportune time to strike. This is how Yuri gets you: by putting you both in the most uncomfortable situations possible, career be damned. It isn’t due to a heightened sense of thrill under duress, but it’s just the way she is. Insatiable. 

As easy it would be to fold right then and there, you make it a point to keep her in check, much to her disappointment. In a way, you’re kind of her unofficial co-manager, except you just so happen to share the same bed with her.

“No,” you tell her, holding face, holding her by the wrists, rising from the couch and leading her against the makeup table. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Fuck you,” she replies, not hiding her frustration. She matches your stern glare with of her own, but she comes off as more of a spoiled child than an actual threat. There’s more charm to find than seriousness in Yuri’s cutesy features. “You really are no fun at all, asshole.”

Releasing your grip on her hands, you make a concerted effort to fix up her loose dress, then leave a peck on the cheek. All while you admire the little details that complete her look. You can’t help but kiss her softly, inadvertently calming her down. Undoubtedly, she’s pretty, but she’s even more special today. 

“It’s only a what? Thirty minute set? It’ll go by in a breeze,” you tell her, as if she hasn’t been going through the festival circuit just the other month. On her part, it feels way longer since she performed in public, and that’s in no small part to her spending all her spare time with you more than anything or anyone else—to the point of being overly attached. 

Yuri sighs, rolling her eyes, hating the notion of being away from you for more than a few minutes. She makes one last hail mary effort to lead you on by wrapping a leg around yours, but you immediately catch on and put her in place. She’s so visibly miffed, that it’s easy to feel any sort of sympathy for her, but you know this little devil is going to exploit your kindness and bury you in the process. 

“Please,” she pleads in her softest tone, ready to drop to her knees on command. “I don’t even need you to fuck me like a whore, but—please—let me suck your cock instead. Let me take a warm load down my throat and I’ll be good to go.”

Try as hard as she can, the idea passes through one ear and comes out the other. You don’t budge. Not in the slightest. 

“Please, babe—promise I’ll let you use me anyway you want.” Right on cue, Yuri sheds tears, eyes wide and bargaining. “I’ll let you tie me up and tease me with your toys like the bad girl that I am. Just give me this one thing. Please.”

Still, nothing she does changes your mind. You even toy with the fact she’s needy as hell. “Didn’t you just call me an asshole, asshole? Why would I let you suck my cock, let alone shove it anywhere near you or inside you?”

Her facade immediately disappears in place of self-defense. “Oh come on. I call you asshole all the time, asshole. Since you like that word so much, here: asshole, asshole, asshole. I bet it’s because it reminds you of how much you love using my—”

Unamused, you interrupt Yuri by backing her against the table again, imposing your superior stature over the frankly petite idol. She doesn’t look intimidated, and for good reason: you won’t do a damn thing to hurt her. Despite the clear assertion of power, it’s actually the opposite—she recognizes that you’re falling into her hand and gets off on bothering you.

“Go on. What are you gonna do? Spank my ass? I bet you’d love to do that to me now, do you?” Yuri’s chuckling, grinning wickedly through every word, knowing your attempts at punishing her only serve to derive her pleasure instead. Either way, it’s a lose-lose situation. Fold and risk your frisky relationship to the public at your expense, or only delay the inevitable and continue to be tormented at every chance she gets. The trouble never ends.

You end up backing away and leaving her alone in the room. You remember; it’s a miracle. “Just—act normal,” you tell her, sounding defeated as you open the door. 

—————

For the most part, she does. 

Yuri is a natural performer, as usual. She never really needed you to begin with. You found her like this. Any sign of weakness or doubt is virtually unrecognizable.

Being near the front has its benefits. For one, you’re merely a stone’s throw away from Yuri, meaning you don’t have to strain your eyes or constantly turn to the screen. No LED panel can truly display Yuri’s in all their glory. It also means when her earpiece randomly stops functioning, you’re a few inches away when she decides to entertain the fans with typical fanservice: giving high-fives, completing hearts, partaking in pictures, and so on. While everyone around you has their phones and lightsticks raised, you’re just watching along, basking in the moment, watching your girl do the thing she loves the most, besides doing you.

Yuri passes by your section, and immediately recognizes you on sight in the midst of the crowd. She throws a wink and a kiss in your direction—much to everyone else’s delight, but not yours. Apart from that one scene, there isn’t much fanfare or anything fanciful that you haven’t already seen from her. After only five songs, she bids farewell to the audience. 

Minutes later, you reunite with her backstage at her assigned dressing room. 

“Well well,” says Yuri, waiting by her lonesome at the makeup desk as you enter, sounding self-indulgent. “I did it, babe. Wasn’t so hard.”

Of course. Yuri can keep herself in control; she just chooses not to. It’s hardly a surprise to anyone, especially you.

“Were you expecting a cookie?” you comment, making sure her head doesn’t leave orbit. 

“Don’t be such a bitch,” she retorts, pouting her lips, irked at your remark. “Just say I did a good job. Being kind costs nothing.”

“And being an asshole also costs zero,” you retaliate, never letting up on the sarcasm. “Good job.”

“And? You’re missing one more thing.”

You raise an eyebrow, growing slightly crabby. “What? Isn’t a simple good job already enough?”

“C’mon.” Yuri steps forward with all the confidence in the world. The change of attitude in the room is sudden, abrupt. One quick shove sends you stumbling back onto the couch. Before you’re able to react, she straddles herself on your lap, having all of the leverage. “You know I gotta get my reward after every performance, babe.”

No matter where you turn, you end up back at square one: against Yuri. Her hands lead your wandering gaze toward hers. “God, Yuri, no—”

She shushes you, places a finger between your lips, shaking her head in disapproval. “I did my part. It’s only right that you have to return the favor. That’s the rules.”

“What rules?”

Yuri laughs. Shoots you this inviting, alluring look that’s asking—begging—for trouble. A perfect encapsulation of who she is whenever you’re alone together. Her fingers begin to pick through the buttons of your dress shirt, your countenance slowly unraveling as dread and danger clouds your mental functions. No amount of ignorance can save you. You’re trapped. 

There’s your answer.

As if that wasn’t enough, the finger between your lips is now replaced with hers. A kiss. Deep. Tender. Passionate. She’s engrossed in the moment, cupping your face to pull you down with her, forcing you into submission. There’s no escape. Whatever resolve you have left she gradually weakens, until you eventually close your eyes and reciprocate those feelings back at her, too. 

It’s a good thing you locked the door beforehand, as if you knew this was going to happen. 

You’re stuck in this fervent position for what feels like an eternity, when in reality, it’s only been a couple of minutes. Despite the precarious state you’re in, there’s something sincere when it comes to Yuri. Probably because she’s the only person on this planet with a face that could look innocent while clearly committing the act. Still, she’s up to no good, and she has you exactly where she wants you to be.

She pulls away from the kiss, her eyes glazed, her lips melding in the shape of a moan, even though you’re still clothed—for now. 

“Jesus, Yul, we really should—”

A second kiss interrupts your desperate plea. Yuri doesn’t want to hear any part of it. She knows what she wants. No amount of resistance will deny her this opportunity. She finishes unbuttoning the last of your shirt, slipping it off before throwing it aside, caressing your bare shoulders. All this while shaking her head. 

Pulling away from your lips again, she slips one of her dress straps down her shoulder. “I don’t fucking care. I want you now.”

Clambering off your lap, Yuri tugs at the hem of your pants, jutting your hips forward. You can only watch helplessly while she strains her lanky arms, unzipping your trousers, pulling on them again and again until they pool around your ankles and shoes. Her eyes fixate on your groin, gleaming at the welcome sight: a growing bulge beneath your boxers.

“How long have you been hard for me, hm?” She swipes at your erection a handful of times, each touch eliciting an airy groan from your lips. Biting on her lower lip, the sensation arouses her even further. “Did I dress a little too sexy for you today?”

If you could talk at that moment, you would say yes. The entire time you’ve been watching her on stage, your primary focus was her outfit over everything, including her soulful voice. As flattering as the simple but sexy ensemble was on its own, it’s even hotter in motion. It reminds you of when you first met in a similar place. Instead of thousands in attendance, it was only a handful of patrons at a small bar. And out of the dozens she could have ended the night with, it happened to be you. From the moment you laid your eyes on each other and exchanged smiles, you knew there was never going back.

You’re aimlessly pulling at strings, hoping to find a way out, a miracle. Instead, you’re digging your grave even further. The other strap falls down, pulling the rest of her dress along with it. Not of her own volition, with the culprit being your own hand. There’s nothing worth saving at this point, not even yourself. 

What a way to surrender. You haven’t answered her question formally, yet she understands what you were going to say.

Yuri leans forward, her attitude as bold as it's ever been. Despite her pretty smile, the hint of cleavage right in front of you sweeps away your gaze. Every part of her is a sight for sore eyes. She shudders, closes her eyes, slowly grinds herself against your throbbing bulge, finding your place beneath her even more suffocating. You can only sink back on the couch, moan along and let her neediness weigh you down. 

As the garment slips further down down her lithe frame, landing at the waist, you bury your head against Yuri’s neck. Romantic as it may look, it’s anything but. She keens against your ear, her nails scratching at your nape—all while you clamp down on her collarbones. Her whines sound needy, wanton, shameless. Her voice echoes beyond the four corners of this room, removing any pretense to any innocent soul passing by. Conveniently, music from the main stage is loud enough to cover your little act.

Maybe she really had it planned out all along.

While Yuri remains preoccupied by her senses betraying her, you reposition her away from you towards the table. You never let up on the passionate kisses and bite marks till her creamy, pale skin glows a deep shade of red. Then you twiddle with the zipper on her corset, sharply yanking it down, almost snapping the clasp in your haste to undress her. Fortunately, you manage to push the rest of her lingerie down to her waist, enough to where you can feel her bare figure with your hands. 

Asserting your control—something you should have had the entire time—you lay Yuri face down on the sofa, clambering yourself on top of the powerless idol. Manhandling her is as easy as breathing; she folds at the slightest push and prefers to be used as a means of personal release.

Reaching from behind, you rest a hand on her chest. You squeeze; she yelps. The feeling of her nub held between your palm while drawing out little, saccharine noises from her dirty lips scratches that sweet spot in your brain perfectly. It’s an addicting sensation you can’t get enough of. She is unable to fight back, her nails digging deep into the fabric of the couch, desperate to hang on, only to find herself going weak at the knees.

More and more, you find yourself losing control, becoming more ravenous. You quickly shed your boxers,  pushing them down as far as your knees, your struggling cock freed from its restraints. Your noises are turning more primal: less human, more animalistic, as your grip on Yuri tightens. You lay her body flat on the couch, make use of what little space is left, before digging between her legs to strip the panties beneath her skirt.

Part of you wants to slip a finger or two in there and play with her clit. It’s inconsequential, if not a small diversion from what really matters. Until you remember just how far off the beaten path you’ve already gone. If you don’t fuck her right then and there, you just might lose it.

Pressing the head of your cock along her lips, you come to a predictable conclusion: she’s soaking wet. Wet enough to raise some deep concerns. Your breaths tense up as you slowly enter and the walls pulse around you; the gap between you and her couldn’t be any narrower. 

The groan you release as you bury yourself to the hilt is worth a thousand reliefs. Nothing is as satisfying as that first entry into Yuri’s tight, suffocating pussy. Every single time. 

“Oh—fuck—” you blurt, immediately overwhelmed by the rapid surge of heat. In response, she lets out this sharp, echoey moan, stretching her head ever so slightly forward as she endures the stabbing sensation. The feeling doesn’t last long; you pull back, her walls pulsating against your cock, only to plunge right back in.

The little discomfort soon dissipates for pleasure. Yuri’s so intoxicatingly tight, so hot when you fill her with your cock. That’s why despite the uncomfortable scenarios she puts you in, you always fold, because you feel right at home in her cunt. It would be a disservice to take her like some dainty, delicate doll. And you wonder why she’s always so needy.

Spreading her thighs wider, you fuck her, slowly foregoing the comfort of a slow grind in favor of a erratic, torrid pace. Each thrust you deliver is hard, emphatic strokes, as if to prove two points: that you don’t take lightly to her antics, and that you will always overpower her. You shouldn’t be deriving any joy from this, but you’re loving every second using her as she wanted: as an outlet for your frustration. 

As for Yuri, she’s just as pathetic and helpless as always. Reduced to a heaping pile of moans and mewls. Her national position. Her favorite position. You should be wondering just how incredibly manipulative and conniving she is, getting you to act out for a little miscreant like her, when she should have known her place by now. Ultimately, there’s no point; there’s nothing that will get her to change her wicked ways, and every consequence only serves as her motivation to push you even further. 

The sounds filling the room are almost indistinguishable. Whether it’s the supposed thumping on the door or skin against skin, you don’t know. You’re twisting her dark hair around your finger, and her keen and shriek are one and the same. Meanwhile, your other hand can’t decide between her waist and her ass, both sensitive and satisfying to the touch. You’re both too engrossed in each other’s pleasure to care about anything other than the relentless collision of your bodies. At this point, you’re certain it is, in fact, a knock on the outside, but it will eventually disappear. They all do. 

Yuri is shaking, violently trembling, gripping to the couch’s handles, desperate for air. ‘More—harder—fuck me—’ she begs in repetition, every word spilling like a prayer. It’s amazing how she holds up against you. You wonder if her goal is to be seen like this—to be recognized as the fucktoy and brat she is. You can only contain her for so long; it’s only a matter of time before it blows out of proportion. That’s the thrill of the chase—to avoid being found and to escape with an inch of your life.

Your grip around her hair reaches a fever pitch, your teeth gritted and your breath heaving. You want to say you’re close, but that’s basically asking for trouble. Still, you can’t bear it any longer. “So close, Yuri. I’m gonna cum—”

“Fucking do it. Cum all over me. Inside me. Anywhere you want,” is her response, with you pressing her down on the couch out of fear any more filth from her lips will upend you quicker, when in reality, you were already in the process of falling apart. As far as vulgarity goes, it is among her tamest. You’re delaying the inevitable by only a few precious moments.

Then she cums. Unannounced, out of the blue. For all you know, she could have been screaming into the void the way her cries are muffled by the sofa.

Her juices flood your cock, almost making you snap in return. The feeling overwhelms you beyond definition; it takes every last bit of resolve not to break down right then and there. With a sharp draw from her warmth, her slick leaks from her cunt, spills down to the couch. Coating every inch of your shaft, the suffocating heat of her pussy pulls you right back in, and that final thrust sends you over the edge.

All that pent-up want and tension, unglued in an instant. 

Ignore that you let out this hoarse, powerful grunt from the depth of your lungs as you fill Yuri’s cunt with every last drop you have, as if you haven’t been fucking her multiple times a day for the last two weeks. The spillage on her skirt and dress doesn’t matter; as long as she feels every last speck of your cum inside her. You find solace on her shoulders, pushing your throbbing cock deep into her cunt over and over as you blast fleck after fleck that seemingly never ends. 

Eventually, you crash down on the other side of the couch, opposite where Yuri’s face rests. Taking a minute to catch your breath, you get a glimpse of your handiwork: your cum continuously spewing from her sopping cunt, down to the now soiled linen, the damage long-lasting, if not permanent. Had you torn the dress and skirt concealing her inner thighs, the signs wouldn’t have been any more obvious.

It takes a little longer than normal for you to gather your bearings. After all, you were straining your legs in a crowded room an hour before this little escapade. But you’ve been through worse—way worse.

When you finally regain some of your strength, you grab the still exhausted Yuri by the waist and bring her in front of the dressing room mirror. Her bare chest is in clear view, with her dress all crumpled up at the midsection; it’s going to require more than a simple fix. 

“Look what you made me do, you fucking brat,” you hiss, giving Yuri a thunderous slap on her ass. She sees it as not a punishment, but as a reward for pushing you far beyond your comfort zone.

She can barely move a muscle, but is able to respond in spaced out breaths. “Told you it was better than the bedroom.”

You respond with another spank. Then another. A few more. More than you can count. Each hit as thunderous as the clap of her cunt. You know it’s not going to stop her; she knows you can do nothing else.

Her hands cling to the desk, her breaths still heavy, while you slowly rip through the skirt, foregoing any logic. You catch a peek of even more of your handiwork, her ass burning with the same fiery red as the rest of her shapely body. 

Spreading her supple cheeks, you line your cock between her pussy and her legs, resting your head forward beside hers. Grabbing Yuri by the hair, you tilt her face down, moaning against her ear as your bodies entangle together. “Fuck you, Yuri. Sincerely, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck. You.”

With half an eye opened, you catch a glimpse of your reflection, and it’s as messy as you expect. Yuri’s mouth is spread in a deep, wide ‘O’ shape, still riding a prolonged high, while your fingers are all over her. On her breasts. In and out of her hair. The image is arousing enough that you instinctively push your bodies forward. You can feel your cock hardening again.

But right as you get into a rhythm, a knock on the door again snaps you from your shared daze. 

“Well? Bodyguard, you better go and get that,” she says with a slight smirk, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

You throw your head back, groaning in despair. “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, much to her delight and laughter. 

Yuri shimmies from your clasp, picking up pieces of her now ruined dress before walking to the bathroom, while you hike across the room to gather your wear. If there’s one thing about sex with her, it’s how filthy it gets. Clothes scatter everywhere, she’s loud enough to draw attention, and despite everything, it’s hot and messy in all the right ways. You end up fucking her in positions you never thought you’d ever try.

You barely make yourself presentable as you pick up the door, only to be greeted by a blonde beauty on the other side. Her dress immediately stands out; it’s simpler in both design and color (a plain black all over), yet so daring, it makes Yuri seem conservative by comparison. She knows what her best assets are and how she’ll flaunt them for all to see.

What also sticks out is her natural accent. “Hey. Don’t mind if I ask, but is Yuri around?”

With the narrowest of turns, you manage to ascertain her presence, or lack thereof. “You barely missed her, Somi. She just left.”

“Did she tell you where she went?”

“No idea.” 

Somi pouts. It’s a familiar look. “But I just heard her voice here. It was really loud!” 

“You just gotta text her. I seriously don’t know where she went off.”

Her eyes wander down to your ragged appearance, a stark contrast to your blunt tone. The loose belt, the partially unbuttoned shirt, the rolled up sleeves of varying folds. It’s a disaster of epic proportions, and you can barely hold it together. “You sure nothing’s happened in there?” she asks, hiding the littlest of grins. “You look kinda rough.”

“I’ll be fine. Just had to deal with”—you pause, a moment stretched out longer than it should have any right being—“some stuff.”

“Right.” Her eyes peek into the back, even with your best efforts to gently block her view, only to find nothing and no one. She considers her options, before saying, “Surely I can just wait till she comes back? I mean, you’re her bodyguard—”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.” You shut her down immediately. “When she returns, I’ll let her know you were looking for her.”

There’s that trick again: a loose strap sliding down her shoulder. Her hand is glued to the doorpost, unwilling to move, expression undeterred. “I’ll just wait here. We still have a final goodbye to do for the fans. Don’t worry. I just really need to talk to her.”

Her friendly smile turns into a mischievous grin.

It’s deja vu.

—————

The goodbye never comes. 

Some poor random idol has to take Somi’s MC job at the eleventh hour because she’s nowhere to be found. Despite security’s best efforts, she couldn’t be seen, and neither is Jo Yuri, for the last sighting of the two is them leaving the venue by themselves, one after the other. Apart from a handful of disappointed fans, their absence can be hardly felt by everyone else. 

Not a soul knows where they went—and they never will find out, nor will they ever care. Only you may have the smallest of clues, for you are buried between two pairs of legs, preoccupied with eating out pussy while your hands squeeze on a couple sets of breasts in the cover of a hotel room.

—————

(A/N: HE HAS RISEN, BABYGIRL! *IRIS INTENSIFIES*)

(For real, what a trip these last two months have been. I'm feeling conflicted about it all. I could easily have published like five to seven fics in that time period, but no! Life gets in the way sometimes, and let's just say it gave me roadworks that stretched on for miles on end. I already told you about the flu/cough arc, and it's all in the past now. Like I said, college has started up for me, and this could be my final academic year before I have to deal with thesis/internship shit before eventually graduating, so I really am on borrowed time. I really should have used my time better when I was healthy, but it is what it is.)

(I really wish this was longer, considering the gap between the last fic. Writing these past two months has been hell, like I had writers' block on steroids, if that even is a thing. I fucking scrapped two fics, including one that was 7000 words in before I made the executive decision to restart the entire work from scratch. I don't know. I'm very perfectionist about the process. Writing is hard, man. Everyone's been killing it lately (including some incredible returns) and I don't know where my place belongs in this. But what matters is that you've been waiting for me and giving me best wishes during some really challenging times. With only four months left to go, let's finish the year on a high. Got nothing else meaningful to say, Yuri's KCON outfit is just really fucking hot. This would feel wrong if I didn't mention Box somewhere, so shoutout's to them XD Thank you for reading!)

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3 (Final)

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Sleeping Beauty featuring Sukuna! After your parents are killed, leaving you as the young queen, you hire the mysterious and violent Sukuna to be your Captain of the Guard to protect you from an evil fairy’s curse. You’re in love with him, but he just keeps refusing you! 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Reader as Sleeping Beauty, Sukuna as her Captain of the Guard. Oral sex. Rough sex. Creampie. 

Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear.

Sitting on your throne, Sukuna standing guard at your side, you listen as your advisers try to convince you not to go looking for the old fairy. 

“Surely she’ll give up now!” one of them says. “The curse didn’t work!”

Sukuna gives him a withering stare. “We don’t know that the curse is over. We don’t know what will happen if she’s pricked by a needle again.”

You nod. “If I just fall asleep again, that’s no problem, since we know how to fix it.”

Sukuna grins. “I’m ready to perform my duty at anytime.”

The other advisers look away from him awkwardly. 

“The problem is,” you continue, “when the good fairy altered the curse, we don’t know if that was a one time deal, of it it applies to every time I touch a needle. I can’t risk finding out.”

The lady adviser looks at Sukuna. “And you believe the old fairy will try to kill her in more conventional ways now?”

“She will. And I’ll protect the queen, but it would be much simpler for all of us if I just go kill the old bitch.”

The lady adviser nods. “I see. The two of you have my support. We will look after the kingdom in your absence.”

The other two advisers seem to bristle at that statement. “This is a terrible idea!” one of them shouts, looking directly at you. “You have no heir! If you’re killed on this fool’s errand, the kingdom will be thrown into chaos!”

“I won’t be killed,” you say firmly. “Sukuna will be with me. I’m confident that he will keep me alive.”

The third adviser throws his hands up as if in dismay. “You don’t even know where to look! The woods are vast and sprawling! How will you find the old fairy?”

Sukuna speaks up again. “I know someone who can help with that. They’re a bit of a fairy themself.” 

That piques your interest. Sukuna has never revealed anything about his life before he met you, so even hearing about an acquaintance of his is new territory. “Let’s go see this person you know,” you tell him. 

No one else objects as the two of you prepare to leave. You wear a simpler dress, something easy to move in and won’t have your tailor in tears when you return with it dirty and ripped. You pack a bag with dried foods, water, and some basic supplies, and then the two of you head out. 

The walk through the town is arduous. So many of the people have somehow already heard about your brief time asleep and are happy to see you up and about. You don’t know how news traveled so fast, but you’re happy you can put the people at ease. 

Once you reach the edge of the woods, Sukuna steps in, seemingly with no thought or care for the dangers. All your life, you’ve been told to stay away from the woods, that great beasts live there, as well as old magic and wicked fairies and all manner of horrible things. So to see someone simply walk on in without worry surprises you.  

He turns to look at you. “Getting cold feet, princess?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I just thought you might escort me like a proper gentleman,” you say, stepping in after him. 

“So you want me to hold your hand?”

“No! I’m perfectly fine walking on my own!”

He gives you an irritated look. “Are you really acting shy about holding hands after I’ve already fucked you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Must you speak so crudely?”

“You like when I speak crudely,” he says. 

You stare at him, at his strange tattoos. “You are an odd man. Where do you even come from?”

He’s walking a few steps in front of you now, leading you deeper into the forest. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

For the next hour, the two of you don’t talk much, only occasional questions, until Sukuna suddenly stops and holds one hand up. “We’re in their territory. They’ll be along as soon as they sense me.”

You notice the air seems much colder here, in this part of the woods. There are even a few icicles hanging from some of the upper branches of trees! 

The two of you only walk a few more minutes before a person seems to appear out of nowhere, standing a few feet ahead. From here, you can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman, but they’re clearly beautiful. They’re wearing strange robes, of material you can’t identify, and their hair is a shiny silver color that glints in the patches of sunlight breaking through the trees. 

They look at you with a bored expression before turning their gaze to Sukuna. Then they immediately rush forward and drop into a bow before him. 

“Lord Sukuna! I welcome you to my home. What can I do to serve you?”

You look at the newcomer in shock, then turn to Sukuna. “Lord?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “A remnant of a different life.” Then he looks down at the bowing figure. “Uraume, you know these woods well. Do you know where the one called the ‘old fairy’ lives?”

Uraume looks up before slowly standing. “I have an idea of where she resides, though I’m not certain. I can go and confirm if you like.”

Sukuna regards Uraume with a complicated expression, and lowers his voice slightly. “The magic you have here, is it enough to deal with the old fairy if she attacks you?”

Uraume blinks, seeming surprised. “I appreciate your concern, my lord. But I won’t engage with her. She uses old magic, the kind baked into the origins of this world. I will only confirm her presence and return here.”

Sukuna nods. “Be careful. Don’t leave me alone here.”

Uraume’s cold eyes slide over to you. “If I may say, my lord, it looks like you aren’t alone.”

Sukuna glances at you as well, a look of irritation on his face. “I’ve softened too much. Killing the old fairy should improve my mood.”

Uraume gives another quick bow, and then they leave. You approach Sukuna, feeling like he’s suddenly a different person. You feel like you need to talk, to start a conversation, anything to call him back to you. 

“How do you know Uraume?” you ask. 

“They’re a former servant of mine,” he answers, not looking you in the face. Even his tone of voice seems different. 

“Servant? Are you… some kind of royalty? From another kingdom?”

He laughs. “I’ve been called a king, but I’m not royalty.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

He looks at you finally, and his gaze is so cold, it’s frightening. What happened to him? “You’re asking too many questions. My patience is growing thin.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, your voice weaker than you intended. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought… we were growing closer…”

His harsh gaze softens slightly. “Don’t apologize. Seeing Uraume again has reminded me of who I once was. And I slipped back into my old mannerisms.”

“You talk as if you’re a different person entirely now,” you say, stepping closer. 

He gives you that familiar grin, and you feel your unease begin to fade. “I am, princess.”

Uraume returns a few minutes later, much faster than you expected. They look as if they never even left, totally calm, not a single hair out of place. It doesn’t appear that they were in any danger. 

They bow before Sukuna again, and you realize this makes you uncomfortable. As a ruler yourself, you’ve never demanded anyone bow to you, at least not like this. A slight inclination of the head as you pass has always been perfectly acceptable, or nothing at all. What kind of king was Sukuna if his subjects felt the need to bow so deeply and so quickly? 

“I’ve found her, my lord.”

“Good. Lead the way,” Sukuna replies, and Uraume rises smoothly to their feet. 

As you and Sukuna follow them deeper into the woods, your curiosity gets the better of you again. “They don’t mind coming with us? We’ll be putting them in danger.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Uraume has never minded danger for my sake. And by some cruel joke of fate, they’re much more powerful than me right now.”

The way he says it, as if that wasn’t always the case, only makes you more curious. Uraume is clearly a fairy of the woods. Even you can sense the magic coming from them. How could a mere human man ever be more powerful than that? But you keep the question to yourself for now. The distance in Sukuna’s eyes earlier still worries you. 

**************************

Sukuna walks a few steps ahead to fall in pace with Uraume. The former servant glances at him, and it’s obvious they feel a measure of discomfort not walking behind him. 

“The old fairy,” Sukuna says, “How strong is she?”

Uraume pulls a low branch back, keeping it from scraping Sukuna. “I’ve heard she is physically weak, but her magical power easily dwarfs my own. She’s cunning, and has many tricks to rely on.”

Sukuna feels a rush of excitement. He hasn’t fought a powerful opponent in so very long. He’s smiling as he says, “So she could easily kill me.”

Uraume apparently realizes what he’s thinking. “She should be quite stimulating, my lord.”

Suddenly Sukuna remembers the woman walking a few steps behind, fragile and delicate, the old fairy’s main target. He should feel concern, perhaps even fear for her safety. But the thrill of the coming battle has overrided all other feelings. 

“Uraume, I need you to vow something for me.”

They look at him curiously. “Of course, Lord Sukuna. Whatever you wish.”

He glances back at the queen. “Protect her. From everything. No matter who or what you have to fight, let no harm come to her.”

Uraume looks over their shoulder at the woman. “I vow it, my lord. It seems she has become important to you.”

Sukuna shrugs. “She makes the time pass faster.”

Uraume says nothing more, and soon they pass into a section of the woods much darker than the rest. It’s definitely still daytime, the sun is certainly still up, but here in these woods it’s dark as night. The trees grow taller, closer together, like silent guards. Their branches are gnarled, their foliage mostly absent except for patches of brown. No flowers bloom here, and the air crackles with ancient magic. 

Sukuna sticks close to the queen, who is doing her best to show no fear, while Uraume leads them on, seeming cool and calm as always. Up ahead, he spots a castle. Unlike the queen’s well-kept (if relatively modest) castle, this one is dilapidated. Dark, twisting vines cover the place like a veil, and a strange creeping fog floats around their legs. It’s a place designed to strike fear into the hearts of men. But Sukuna only feels anticipation. 

The vines part as they reach the castle, as if they’re sentient. The heavy wooden door opens, and a figure clad in black robes emerges from the shadows. From back here, it’s hard to make out the details of her face, but Sukuna can feel it: this is the old fairy.  

All the fairies were given simple titles. The good fairy, the ice fairy (the name given to Uraume), the wood fairy, etc. And Sukuna assumed the old fairy was simply, well, old. He did not expect her to be positively ancient, probably older than this world itself. She looks like any elderly lady, but he can feel the old and powerful magic radiating from her. 

She looks at him, her eyes focusing on him instead of the queen. 

“Why are you here, interloper?” she asks, her voice a crackle of dark energy. 

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at that. “You know who I am?”

She laughs humorlessly. “Anyone with true power knows who you are, Fallen One. Tell me, what has it been like, cursed to live a thousand lives as a weak and powerless human?”

Sukuna grins at her. “It’s not been so bad. Power comes in many forms. I’ve made due with what I can grasp.”

The old fairy finally looks at the queen behind him. “You were foolish enough to bring her to me? Or are you hoping for some sort of trade?”

“I came to take your fucking head, you decrepit old bitch!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the flicker of fear that passes over the old fairy’s face. It’s amusing that he can inspire such fear even in this weakened state. 

He lunges forward, drawing his sword. The vines move to ensnare him, slithering about like snakes, trying to wrap around his limbs. His combat instincts resurface like muscle memory, his body dodging before his slow human brain can even process the attacks. 

As he cuts through the vines and closes in on the fairy, a great burst of green light erupts from the ground, aimed straight for him. He avoids the light, not sure what sort of attack it is but knowing better than to let it hit him. 

He glances back, sees that Uraume is beside the queen and has formed a shield of ice around the two of them, then refocuses on the fairy. 

Dodging those bursts of light, he rushes forward at incredible speed, aiming his sword forward. He realizes he’s smiling, enjoying the thrill of battle as the vines and green light blasts try to impede him. The old fairy makes a motion with her hands, trying to conjure something to defend herself with, but she’s too slow for Sukuna’s incredible speed. 

The blade pierces her body, running straight through her chest like a hot knife through butter. She looks up at him, and the lack of terror on her face tells him this is not over. It was way too easy.  

A giant burst of the green light bursts from her body, and he jumps back in time to avoid it, pulling his sword out of her in the process. He watches as the old fairy’s shape contorts, shifting, growing. It’s bathed in the green light, creating a shield he can’t touch. 

Within minutes, the human-shaped old fairy has transformed into a massive black dragon, its wings sprawled out behind it as it roars at the sky. The green light glows from its open mouth, and it begins walking toward Sukuna. 

Any man would be struck by terror, would flee for his life before such darkness and raw power. But Sukuna is not just any man. His heart is pounding, his adrenaline flaring within this weak human body, his soul remembering battles from many lifetimes ago. Ah yes, the person he used to be would have crushed this pitiful dragon within seconds.

The dragon rises up, its long neck extending skyward, as its mouth opens wider and a beam of green light shoots out. Sukuna moves to dodge, wondering if he could tank a direct hit, when a wall of ice appears before him. The ice shatters, but absorbs the bulk of the attack. Sukuna looks back at Uraume. In another life, he would have scolded them for interfering, but he’s different now. He’s a human fighting a supernaturally powerful ancient being. He wonders idly if the people who fought him so long ago felt the way he does now. 

If so, they owe him some gratitude. Because he hasn’t felt this kind of exhilaration since-

His thoughts are interrupted by another beam of green light, this one obvious enough for him to dodge before the dragon even opens its mouth. He’s beginning to read its moves, to predict what it will do. For all the old fairy’s power, she clearly hasn’t seen much actual combat. She probably scares off most threats before having to launch a single attack. Compared to Sukuna’s battle sense, she’s practically a newborn babe when it comes to fighting. 

And that is her undoing. She can’t follow or anticipate Sukuna’s movements, and so he gets above and behind her by dodging, weaving, and jumping off the wall of the castle beside her. He swings his sword down, chopping off the dragon’s head with one brutal swipe. 

Green light explodes from the dragon’s neck, and engulfs Sukuna as he stands nearby. It doesn’t hurt, but instead seems to be entering his body. It’s the old fairy’s power! It’s transferring to him! 

He stands completely still, letting the power flow into his body, filling him. It feels so good! So… familiar! 

He laughs loudly as his body glows. Uraume and the queen step closer. 

“Look, Uraume!” he calls, his voice sounding thunderous. “Real power! After all these lifetimes of weakness, to feel power like this flowing through me again… I’ve become myself!”

Uraume bows low. “I am pleased to see it, my lord!”

Sukuna’s gaze slides over to the other person in the woods with them - the queen of a tiny, insignificant kingdom. He’d almost forgotten she’s here. She’s not bowing, which irritates him. And she’s staring at him as his newfound power swirls around, warm and energized air whipping her hair and dress around her. In her eyes is not fear, but sadness. Ridiculous. She should fear him like all the other pitiful humans in this world. After all, their new king has arrived. 

“Insolent woman,” he says, directing a thin beam of the green light in her direction. He’d intended to shoot it very close to her as a warning, but a sudden wall of ice appears, blocking it. 

Sukuna looks sharply at Uraume. “You would get in my way?”

Uraume looks troubled, a rare expression on their usually cold face. “I am fulfilling my vow, Lord Sukuna. You made me swear no harm would come to her.”

Sukuna scoffs. “That was when I was weak. Human. I’m back to my old self now. I release you from your vow.”

Uraume is still bowing low to the ground. “My lord… you know you will always have my loyalty above all else, but you seemed quite desperate for her to be protected.”

Sukuna looks back at the woman, realizing she’s moved closer. She’s pressing against the force of his power to approach him. What could possess her to be so foolish? He decides to make it easy for her, by moving to her himself. His motion is so fast, it must seem to her like he teleported directly in front of her. 

Her eyes are wet with tears. “What’s happened to you?” she asks, her voice fragile. She reaches up one hand as if to touch his face. The nerve of this weak creature! 

He knocks her hand away from him and gives her the sort of glare that had monsters and men alike begging for their lives. “I’ve returned to my former self, to who I was meant to be. Your lack of fear and respect annoys me.”

She shakes her head, and the tears around her eyes glitter like stars. “I don’t fear you. I fear losing you.”

He narrows his red eyes. “I am not yours to lose.” 

She looks so hurt as she reaches up again. “Sukuna, please, I need you!”

He grabs her wrist, such a frail little thing. He could snap it with a touch, reduce her to a wailing lump of flesh at his feet. But he suddenly remembers the night before, the way he held her in his arms, the taste of her skin, the way she felt beneath him, the way she clenched his cock. 

Such things should mean nothing to him. He’s had thousands of women across his many lifetimes. But he releases her wrist and says, “Bow, and I might keep you as a concubine.”

Her eyes widen. Is that heartbreak within their depths? He almost grins. He can play with her as much as he likes later, after he establishes who the true ruler is.  

The hand he just released moves up again, but this time, her open palm strikes his face. The slap was so weak and unexpected, he didn’t sense its approach. For him, it was nothing. But the audacity! The insult! He looks at her, ready to rip her limb from limb, but he freezes when he sees her face. 

She’s wearing that haughty, defiant look that he enjoyed so much, crossing her arms as she says, “No, you bow!”

The whole thing is so shocking, he doesn’t know whether to laugh or slaughter her instantly. 

“You called me your queen!” she says. “You said you would protect me! You said I’m yours! If that’s true, then you’re mine as well. I won’t give you up so easily, even to your former self!”

He stares at her, at the fierce determination in her eyes, and he’s caught between the desire to break her for good or to pull her into his arms. His past self warring with the man he’s become over these long lifetimes. 

“Foolish woman. You have no idea who I am. Even the most powerful creatures trembled before me!”

“I don’t care,” she says. “That person you were, that king or ‘fallen one’ or whatever you called yourself… he can fuck off!”

Sukuna looks at her, at this weak little human who has somehow, against all odds, managed to bend him to her will. He remembers what he told the old fairy. “Power comes in many forms.” He hadn’t realized in that moment that the most powerful thing in all the worlds is something he’d long ago dismissed as worthless. 

He clenches his fist, feeling the power course through him for a final time, committing the sensation to memory. Then, he releases it. It flows out of his body like a waterfall, pouring into the world around him. And just like that, he’s human again. Weak. Normal. 

His queen watches the power dissipate, then wraps her arms around his neck. 

“I hope you know what I gave up for you,” he says. 

She leans in closer, kissing him as she says, “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

************************

You untie the laces of your nightdress, letting the silky sheer fabric fall from your shoulders and pool on the floor, revealing that you wore nothing underneath it. Sukuna’s eyes rake over your form from his place on the bed, sitting on the edge of it, already undressed, thighs open invitingly. 

As you step over to him, you look over his tattoos. “So they just appear on your body? In every new life?”

He follows your gaze to the black lines across his body. “They usually appear when I hit puberty. That’s when my memories of past lives come back as well. They’re probably supposed to be part of the curse, but I like them.”

“I like them too,” you say, tracing over one of them with your fingertip. 

“You always do,” he says with a strange smile. 

What does that mean? You decide to leave the question for now. There are others you want to ask. 

“So,” you say as he pulls you into his lap, “you were evil in your original lifetime?”

He grins as one of his hands slides around your body to squeeze your breast. “I’ve been evil in every lifetime, princess.”

You don’t mind him still calling you that, especially in intimate moments like this. You smile, planting quick kisses along his jaw and neck. “Really? What kinds of things did you do?”

“I killed a lot of people. More people than you can imagine.”

“Did they deserve it?”

His grin fades slightly. “Some did. Most didn’t.”

“Why did you kill them then?” 

“Because I could,” he says simply, looking you in the eyes. “Does that bother you?”

You think for a moment. “No, because you’re not that person anymore. And if he ever tries to take over again, I’ll chase him away.”

He watches you slip out of his lap and down to your knees in front of him. You maintain eye contact while reaching one hand up to grasp the huge cock standing at attention between his legs. You slide your hand up and down, just getting a feel for the sheer size of it. You lean forward and kiss the tip, sweetly, like it’s a cuddly pet, then lick the clear fluid that smeared over your lips. 

Looking up at him, you’re not surprised that he’s impossible to fluster in moments like this. Having memories of all his past lives means he probably remembers having his dick sucked thousands of times. But there is another way to get a reaction out of him. 

“I do hope you’ll dress appropriately for the royal wedding,” you say, just before taking almost his entire cock into your mouth, letting it slide down your throat. 

“Wedding?! Ah… fuck!” he groans, tossing his head back as you gag and sputter around his length. You’ve never done this before and you didn’t realize how hard it is to keep breathing while practically swallowing a massive cock. 

You pull away, stroking the shaft that’s now coated in your spit with one hand. “You’ll be king consort,” you say, then you extend your tongue and run it along the underside of his dick, from base to tip, one hand still stroking him while the other gently squeezes his balls. 

He looks down at you, his usual smug expression cracking just a little. “I don’t remember agreeing to marry you, princess.”

Your tongue is swirling around his tip. “Oh? I’m sure my advisers would prefer I marry a royal from a neighboring kingdom.”

Suddenly his hand is in your hair, pressing your head forward, effectively shoving his cock back into your mouth. You look up at him as he pushes into your throat again, choking you. “There,” he says in that achingly smooth voice of his, “you’re much cuter with that bratty mouth of yours full of my cock.”

You make a whimpering sound as you struggle to suck air in through your nose, and after a few seconds he releases you. While you pull back and catch your breath, he gives you an almost pouty look. “As if I’d let another man touch what’s mine.”

Grinning up at him as your hand goes back to work, you lick your messy lips and say, “Royal wedding it is, then.”

He sighs in defeat as you wrap your lips around him again. “I suppose I’ll do you the favor of marrying you,” he says as you move your head back and forth, letting his cock pump in and out of your warm mouth. “Be grateful. I’ve never married anyone in any of my previous lifetimes.”

This surprises you, and makes you feel heated to know you’ll be his first wife. His hand is in your hair again, gentle this time, just enough force to let you know he’s in control. And when he’s ready, he pulls you back so that only his tip remains in your mouth, and then shoots his load into it, coating the entire inside.  

The amount of it takes you by surprise, and you have to start swallowing quickly to avoid spilling any. Pity, you would have liked to savor it. 

He doesn’t offer his hand to help you to your feet. You’ll have to work on teaching him to be a gentleman. Instead he’s moving aside to give you room on the bed. When you climb on, he pushes you onto your back and positions himself between your sprawled legs. He reaches down with one hand and rubs over your slit with his thumb, checking your wetness, then drags your lower half into his lap. 

“Ready for me to turn this proud queen into a blubbering mess again?” he asks, his cock rubbing against your folds. 

You frown. “I did not blubber! I was practically uncon-“

His cock slides in, this time going all the way to the hilt on the first thrust, making you gasp as your eyes roll back and your body jerks. 

He nestles himself against your cervix, then pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, making you cry out pathetically. “What were you saying, princess?”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Only stilted moans and garbled cries. He’s so big, and he’s going so deep, your mind is going blank just like before. 

“I like you best like this,” he says with a laugh, pounding into you ruthlessly. “So fucked out you can’t even think straight.”

His hands are on your hips, gripping tightly, moving your body as he pleases. “You like it right… here…!” he grunts, hitting a spot that makes your eyes go wide and your fists grip the sheets beneath you. Your mouth falls open, a strangled yell escaping you. Oh god, this is even better than last time! 

One of his hands moves over, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles into it, making your whole body tremble and tears fill your eyes. Is this going to be a regular thing now? Him making you completely fall apart on his cock? 

“There she is,” he says, watching you quiver and cry. “There’s my pretty princess. Not so haughty now, are you?”

The pleasure is so strong, so intense, you genuinely worry that you’ll lose your mind to it. But you look up at Sukuna, and you realize he’ll always bring you back. So you let go, let the pleasure take you, and cry out loudly as your climax wracks your body. 

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your upper half up from the bed and into his arms, holding you tightly as he fills your womb. 

As you come down from your high, locked in Sukuna’s strong arms, his cock still buried inside you, you realize that both of you had defeated your curses today. And maybe, you’ve both placed new curses on each other, that you’ll never be complete without each other, never experience such blinding pleasure, such love, if you’re ever torn apart. 

You wrap your exhausted arms around him, knowing you’ll never let him go, and he’ll never give you up. 

[anomaly-hivemind]

Horror Convention || No. 9 Gloryhole w/ Horror Characters x Fem! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 1995

Warnings: gloryhole, free use, exhibition, overstimulation, large cock, vaginal sex, gangbang if you squint, vagianl fingering, mask kink, stranger sex, cosplaying oral sex, blow jobs, hand job, spit as lube, multiple orgasms,

You were going to a horror convention, it was your first one and you couldn't be more excited to go. You were wearing a slutty freddy krueger outfit excluding the knife coves because they sold out at the spirit halloween. It was too late to buy any online. You were wearing a ripped up black and red cropped top, a jean mini skirt, some stressed thigh-highs and wedges.

When you finally got inside the convention center, there were a lot of things going on with an unsettling low amount of security personnel around. It was a bit overwhelming but you were going to push through it just fine. It was full of cosplaying horror characters, new and old, popular and niche. Even horror shorts films, tv shows and games.

“Can I take a picture with you? I really like the freddy outfit,” the muffled voice of a guy said behind an old respirator.

Oh yeah sure, I like your outfit too. It's from my bloody valentine right?” you lean into the guy so he could take the photo. The guy pulls you close to him for the picture, then he turns to face you.

“Yeah I've had this for a while now.” he laughs and crosses his arm.

“Well it's super cool, practically identical to the movie.” you look him up and down, he was a carbon copy of the original.

“A bunch of my buddies and staff are hosting an event on the west wing in an hour. You should totally go. “ The Harry warden cosplayer handed a pass for the event. ‘Glory Horror’ printed on the card.

“Yeah I will be there.” you nod and take the pass. You can't believe you got an event pass for free.

=========================================================================

An hour had passed, you had bought a scream poster, a friday the 13th shirt and the regret of your shoe choices. You push past the last part and make your way to the event. It was a ways away from everything else which was a bit suspicious but not enough for you to turn around. You show the bouncer guy your pass and ID, because you guess this is an 18 plus event.

You take a seat in the front, the seats were really comfortable. The lights were dim and the walls around the panel looked sound proof. This was super fancy for a panel. It makes you wonder what's going to happen, especially with how fast the room is getting filled with horror fans such as yourself. Most of them were wearing masks from what you can see in the dark space.

A bright red stage light hits the middle of the stage. The familiar guy from earlier that gave you your pass to this event walks to the center. Two other people dragged something onto the stage behind him, also dressed up, one looked like Amanda the pig from the jigsaw moves or the dead by daylight game. The other person was dressed like the monster from Jeepers creepers. There was a large box with a set of holes of different sizes, odd but you find the tv and cameras placed inside and outside the box.

“Welcome to this year's Glory Horror event. Many of you who know about this event already know what's up, but for our virgin Marys let me explain what’s up.” Harry warden cosplayer says through the microphone, his mask muffling his words.

“We’re going to pick a lucky Slasher Slut in the audience to go into the box.” The man snickered as the crowd went wild. Harry looked into the group of seated people, presumably to find someone to put in the box.

“Anything goes when you're behind the veil.” he points to the closed door.

You look around the audience that you were in and they all seemed excited to either be picked or see who was going to end up being picked. You just stare at everyone in confusion.

“You, are you willing to take a dive into carnal pleasures and try out the box?” He points to you from the crowd, when you point to yourself he nods. You stand up, nerves run down your spine as you walk onto the stage. You were surprised with how excited every person in the audience seemed to be that you got picked.

“What am I supposed to do?” you asked while looking at the box.

“It's pretty self explanatory, but you get in the box, the cameras are already set up, we gave you a screen to see the reactions you're giving people.” You nod at him and step into the box, it was large and you could stand up right without being seen by anyone, not counting the screen that was broadcasting you to the outside.

“You can strip down any point and if you want out of the box just push the button to unlock the door.

“You want me to do what now.” you asked from behind the wall, your voice muffled mostly.

“Strip, take off those slutty clothes and either open that pretty mouth or a hole. Prepared to get stuffed in whichever you choose and you can switch at whatever time doll.

You think for a moment, you could back out right now but a part of you wanted to see what happened. With a shaky breath you take off your freddy krueger fit and finally take off your dreadful shoes. You were just in your bra and underwear, taking a seat on your knees in the middle. The bigger hole was covered with a black sheet.

A knock on one of the sides catches your attention, you turn your head and your eyes widen. A veiny cock filled the hole, making it look smaller than it was and it makes your mouth water. You looked over at your screen to see what you're working with, a guy wearing a Michael Myers mask. Your lip quivers as you wrap your fingers around his length.

His balls twitch as you tighten the grip on this stranger’s cock. You use your saliva to wet the tip of his dick. You hear the faint groan of the Myers look alike, it was hot and a turn on for sure. You take his cock deeper in your mouth, almost gagging on it, using your hand to massage his balls and or stroke the rest of his meaty meat.

Another knock from the others size makes you pull your lips off Myer’s member. Someone else had slid their dick into the other hole, the screen splits so you can see the masked figure. It was Brahms, down to the black messy hair, even matches the drapes decorating the base of this man’s uncut dick.

You take your other hand and start to rub at his cute dick. Both of your hands were being filled with their cocks. You were soaking wet from how hot this was and if your hands went filled you would be touching yourself right now. You placed licks on both the dicks one after the other. Even the thought that there were a bunch of people on the other side of this box, watching and listening or maybe even waiting to take a turn with you.

It was hot, you felt hot and you wanted more of all of it. You squeeze the guys dicks as you jerk them both off with determination. Michael myers’ dick twitching was the only short warning you get before he shoots a hot load onto your chest. Your bra ruined with cum makes you pout for a moment before you take the thing off. You put your mouth onto the remaining man and take him down your throat. Brahms cums down your esophagus, his seed tasting weirdly sweet on your tastebuds.

You lick your lips after pulling away the dicks both gone from the holes, making you sigh. You slide off your panties and just as you thought you dripped in arousal. You rub yourself and let out short moans, a guy that was looking like Jason Voorhees pushed his phat cock through the hole. It looked heavy, craving your touch. You touch yourself with one hand while sucking off this fat dick. Even if you couldn’t fit all or even most of it into your mouth you sure as hell tried. You moan against the length of this Jason.

Your fingers thrust into yourself at a similar pace as you sucked and stroked his dick. You come to a stand and turn around, your wet cunt fluttering with horniness. Lining your slit with a guy who looked like a slasher’s dick. You let out a hearty moan as this fat cock stretches you out. You could feel his dick twitch and the man moan from the intrusion. He bottoms out in you, your walls clench around him and then he starts to move slowly in and out of you. You rub your clit as your hole gets pounded into. Another dick pops into the hole in front of you and wraps your hand around it with hesitation. Peaking at the screen in the box you see that it's a guy dressed up in a ghostface outfit.

“Ohshit ohshit ohfucking hell.” you were on the verge of coming and the mix of a Jason hitting all your spots with his girth was making it harder to focus on stroking the guy in front of you.

You try your best to get the other guy to completion but your own impending orgasm was a bit of a distraction to say the least. This Jason guy’s thrust was getting relentless and it was super hot to say the least. You hold on for as long as you could but when you feel the man’s load start to pool down your leg sends you down the edge. Before you could complain about how fast the guy pulled out another guy pushed into you, somehow even thicker and longer than the Jason guy.

You squeeze the hell out of the ghostface and your thumb pushes on his slit. It makes the guy come all over you and hand it a messy gush. The new masked covered hottie was fast enough to work you past that previous orgasm but Jason had given you but now you were getting a bit overstimulated. The faint tapping of the man's pyramid helmet on the box wall makes you giggle. Yet the humor in all of this was cut short from the brutal thrust this pyramid head was giving you.

You were already about to fall into another climax, you couldn't help but scream out a moan that you're sure everyone in the panel heard. Maybe even people outside nearby could hear your whorish moans and whales. This massive curved dick was rubbing your insides just right and your lower half couldn't take much more of it, not standing up like you are right now at least. You reach another chaotic mind altering, pussy spasming, leg trembling, back arching, toe curling climax that almost gives you whiplash an.

You feel the sticky seed fill your cunt and pull out with lackluster pace, almost like he didn’t want to leave your warmth so it takes a minute or so before he actually does . When the pyramid head finally pulls out, your body drops to the stage ground with a thud. You were panting like a dog, cum was dripping out of you and sticking to your thighs. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“This is the best Horror con ever.” you say breathlessly, as you look at another dick slipping into one of the holes. Checking your provided inside the box you see who it is, the host of this event… it’s Harry warden.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve was doing this for Robin.

He had to keep telling himself this. He could get through the day, the weekend, life, if he just kept repeating this to himself.

But an hour into their day, his pants ripped.

Not in a place it can be hidden, not a small one.

Right along his ass.

And because Robin insisted he’d be fine, he didn’t bring a bag with a change of clothes.

He could buy some, sure, if he wanted to spend $60 on special convention sweatpants that would be entirely too hot, unflattering, and ruin the costume Robin insisted he wear to match hers.

He was hiding in the bathroom currently, furiously texting Robin to let her know he was just going to stay there until it was time to leave.

She’d be mad at him, but she’d be more mad at herself for not letting him bring a change of clothes.

His pants weren’t even tight. Luke Skywalker doesn’t exactly wear tight clothes. He had no reason behind the rip other than the universe just hating him as much as possible.

Robin told him she would find someone to help, whatever that means, but he didn’t think that was possible without just buying new pants.

He stood in the corner of the continuously crowded bathroom, trying not to draw attention, but knowing it was incredibly odd to just stand in the corner of a public bathroom.

Ten minutes passed and a guy walked in with a backpack and a sign that says “Free Cosplay Repair” and Steve knew what Robin had done.

The man was pretty, and not dressed up, but seemed like he wished he was. Maybe it was difficult to repair if he was wearing some elaborate costume.

Steve didn’t know how this worked.

“Are you Steve?”

Steve nodded.

His voice was calming, and Steve instantly trusted him to fix the problem.

“Heard you’ve got a bit of a problem with the costume. Big or small?”

“Uh. Pretty big, man.”

“Ah. Tear along the ass, then. Happens all the time.”

He set his backpack down and started rummaging through the front pocket. When he pulled out a sewing kit, Steve realized he was going to have to get this fixed in a public bathroom with this very attractive man staring at and touching his ass for who knows how long.

“Um.”

“It’ll be better if you can take them off. I’ll be able to sew it much faster.”

Steve couldn’t just stand around in his boxers. That was not part of the plan or the agreement with Robin. People were coming and going from the bathroom at a rapid rate.

“Is there somewhere private we can go?”

“Awww, Stevie, feeling shy?”

Steve’s face was beet red. He was feeling a little shy, and being called out on it by a hot guy kind of made him think about being called out on other things in other ways and his brain was not doing well.

“My name’s Eddie. I come with my friend Chrissy to a bunch of these every year. We have a tent set up on the show floor for privacy, but you’d have to walk to it. I could walk behind you if you want?”

“Oh. Okay. Um. Sure.”

It was better than standing half naked in this bathroom.

So they left, and Eddie stayed right behind him, covering him from possible exposure to the growing crowd.

He would lean forward and direct him to the tent every few seconds, leaving goosebumps behind from how close he got to his ear to be heard.

When they arrived, Chrissy was finishing up with supergluing something to a mask. Eddie touched her shoulder and whispered something to her. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him before turning back to the person she was helping.

Eddie nudged Steve into their tent.

“Alright, shouldn’t take too long. Take them off, Luke.”

Steve rolled his eyes but followed directions. The faster this was done, the faster he could get back to Robin, who was probably so deep into the crowd by now that he’d never find her anyways.

Maybe he should just stay here. Learn to sew. Become a part of their traveling repair team.

They seemed nice enough.

Eddie got started immediately, and Steve was grateful for the privacy the tent provided. He sat down on a stool they had set up in the corner and put his hands in his lap, covering as much of himself as he could. He was definitely not confident in this place.

He’d embraced that he liked some nerdy things. He was fine with it.

But he was way out of his element here.

“You come to these a lot?”

“No. Just supporting my friend.”

“Explains not being as prepared as the pros.”

“I did try to be. My friend said I’d be fine. Don’t know why I listened to her.”

Eddie snorted. “She a friend or a…friend?”

Steve laughed so loudly, Eddie jumped. “Sorry. She’s very much not straight and I am very much not interested.”

“Is she Leia?”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone will assume you’re together, you know?”

“Yeah, well. She said I had to and I owed her.”

“Must’ve done you a big favor.”

“You could say that.”

Eddie’s hands were moving quickly, and Steve couldn’t help watching in amazement.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“What? Sewing? Or conventions?”

“Both.”

Eddie smiled while he worked.

“Sewing since I was 11. I was in charge of fixing my and my uncle’s clothes since we couldn’t really afford new ones unless I outgrew them. Then in high school I did costumes for drama and cheerleaders. That’s how I met Chrissy. She was a secret nerd so she took me to a convention and I saw too many people crying over broken and torn cosplays so I started doing this.”

“For free?”

“Yeah. I already had most of the supplies on hand and I’m not using them all so why not?”

“That’s really…kind.”

He saw Eddie’s cheeks blush, but he didn’t comment.

Maybe he’d gain some upper hand here despite being half naked in a tent with a stranger.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It kind of is, man. Just take the compliment. It’s really selfless.”

“Okay. Yeah. I guess. Thanks.”

They settled into a comfortable silence and Steve really took in the tent. There were things hanging up that he vaguely recognized as D&D monsters from Dustin’s room.

“Hey, the kid I babysit is into that.”

“What?”

“The dungeons game.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I think he even has that exact print in his room.”

“No shit? I made these. I have an Etsy shop.”

“You’re kidding. He’s gonna freak out that I met you.”

“Well, shit. Take one for him.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“Yeah you could. I’m not letting you leave until you do.”

Steve felt his heart flutter.

Dustin was like his little brother and he loved him so much. Any time someone did something kind for him, it melted his heart.

He didn’t have time for feelings for a stranger.

Not at a convention where he was the outcast.

“I guess if you insist.”

“I do.”

Steve was a fucking mess. Emotionally, he was the type to get really attached really quickly. It’s why all of his relationships ended within weeks. He was ready to be completely committed and they never were. He fell hard and fast for anyone who showed him even a tiny bit of interest.

He had to get out of this tent.

“I’m not rushing you, but how much longer?”

“I’m almost done. Few more minutes. Doing okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanna find Robin.”

“Text her to meet you here. She knows where it is.”

“How would she know that?”

“I’ve met her a few times at other conventions and she always stops by to say hello.”

Robin knew this guy?

Suddenly, he realized what was going on.

She was setting him up.

“Take your time. She can wait.”

Eddie slowed his hands and looked up at Steve.

“Uh. Okay.”

“She’s a traitor who did this to me on purpose.”

“Ripped your pants?”

“Yes.”

Eddie stopped what he was doing completely.

“She ripped your pants on purpose? How would she have done that?”

“She pulled a seam out or something.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s trying to set us up.”

“Us?!”

“Yep. Sorry. I promise I don’t expect anything. She just does this sometimes. Thinks I’m lonely or whatever.”

Eddie searched his face for a minute, then looked back down at his work.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Lonely.”

Well, yeah. Robin didn’t get the assumption from nowhere. But he didn’t really want to admit that to a stranger.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Apparently, he was going to anyways.

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“Mhm.”

Steve huffed out a breath.

Eddie stood suddenly and came over to Steve, pushing his shoulder back and his legs apart so he could fit between them.

Eddie’s hand cupped his chin, pulling it up so he could look at him.

Steve gulped.

He was feeling more than vulnerable at this point and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Your friend must really love you to want to make sure you aren’t lonely.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“You know, I’m taking a lunch break in about an hour if you wanna hang around. I could use some company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. One condition though.”

“What’s that?”

“You take the pants off again.”

Steve laughed and Eddie couldn’t help the smile he aimed down at him.

“You want me to eat in just my boxers?”

“Well, not just your boxers. That’ll be later at the hotel.”

God, this guy was good. Smoother than Steve’s ever been and he was known for his charming nature for years.

“You think I’ll come back to your hotel?”

“I know you will.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I only temporarily fixed these pants. The stuff you need is back at my room.”

“What if I don’t care about the pants?”

“All the more reason to leave them off when you come to my room.”

They smiled at each other.

Steve felt brave. He felt a little ridiculous. Most of all, he felt like he couldn’t pass up the opportunity literally staring him in the face.

He leaned up a bit more and waited for Eddie to lean down.

When their lips met, Steve knew he was completely fucked.

Robin had fucked him over and he’d never been so grateful.

[garfunklefield]

He’s into it!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

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

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

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

Requests and ASKS are open!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh… okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rosewaterandivy]

1.01 - Notes on a Scene

summary: a meet-fuck cute courtesy of The Hideout.

pairing: teacher!eddie x fem!reader

w.c.: 3.6k

warnings: modern! AU / 18 + no minors! / eddie is in his early 30s, in the tkaa timeline, this is set about two years after the epilogue, hook ups, fwb, Eddie being a menace, my usual filth™️

a/n: an Eddie-centric companion series to the kids aren’t alright. it’s not necessary to read the previous series, but there are certain plot points and characters that will be making an appearance here as well.

nota bene: feedback is always appreciated— reblogs, comments, likes, etc.— but reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:

🎵gonna melt the fever sugar, rolling back your eyes🎵

“Hey.” A man says as he scoots into the stool next to you. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You look up and around. The space is dimly lit, brick walls, wooden shelves, a very subtle we don’t give a fuck vibe. There are plenty of women around who are dressed to impress, but he is strangely alert and focused on you. You are sitting perfectly still in denim cutoffs and a t-shirt that has seen better days—grubby house clothes. Even your hair, piled on top of your head screams: go away.

“You look lonely.” He’s dressed in an open green flannel with a crinkled tee underneath, ripped jeans, and dark sunglasses perched on top of his head.

Blinking owlishly, you stare at him some more. This guy has got to be messing with you. You stick the tip of your thumb to your chest. “Me?”

“Yeah. What’ll you have?”

Um. Alone time, maybe? You’re still searching over his shoulder as he says this, stubbornly ignorant of your aloof vibe. You look again toward the door, plotting your escape. Is this guy the type of person to chase you down and stuff you in the trunk of his car? You try to smile.

“I’m uh—I’m ab–”

“Babe!”

A third voice cuts in and then suddenly an arm wraps around your shoulder, “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.”

Your head turns to regard the rest of its owner and your heart leaps into your mouth. Sumptuous brown eyes encased in dark lashes. Corners lifted by a wide smile. They are looking lovingly down at you, and they are magnificent.

“Uh.” Nice job.

“Uh- you—you were waiting on someone?” The stutter is incredibly pathetic when your first suitor clocks the man with his arm around you. He’s deceptively built, much to your surprise. He’s sturdy too, from what you can tell with his side pressed up against yours.

“Yep. Boyfriend. Good to meet you.” His eyes crinkle at the edges, but there’s no kindness in that look. “Care to fuck off now?”

And fuck off he does. When the man slinks back to his group of buddies who are all snickering at him, you turn to your timely savior, “Thanks…”

“It looked like you might need some help.” He takes his arm back and sinks into the stool next to you. “Just playing the part—I’ll fuck off too in a second.”

You’re still too shocked to mouth off yet as you continue to take in the sight of him at your side. He leans over on his palm, takes a quick look behind your head, and then gives you a wink. “Your man’s turned around. I think you’re safe.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” You mumble, facing him, “That flannel was straight from the nineties.” And then you pause, feeling your mouth-motor whir to life. He’s wearing a black leather jacket. Black shirt. Ripped jeans. Long hair tied back half-way, a slight scruff gracing his jaw. Probably sharp as a knife under that. “You look pretty straight from the nineties too, grunge-boy.”

Beer sprays from where his lips touch the rim of the bottle. He hisses, wiping the dribble from his neck. It takes him another minute of fumbling before all the moisture is off, and you can see the tiniest hint of a blush on his cheeks from where he’s embarrassed himself.

“Where are you coming from?” You ask mischievously, “A Spinal Tap convention?”

“No. I’m a townie, thanks very much.” He crosses his arms. “Just having a drink at my local.”

“Good to know.” 

“My roommates…” He pauses to take a drink, “Well, I have a lot of them and they’re all coupled up.” He says plainly, “A man can only take so much.”

“So….” You sing, “You went out to… save helpless chicks from creeps?”

“Mmm,” he makes a show of sizing you up, eyes working slowly down your body. “I think you’re pretty capable of handling yourself, maybe a bit of a priss,” he decides, taking a long pull from his beer as the heat rises in your cheeks.

You want to laugh, but the shit-eating grin on his face doesn’t deserve to be encouraged right now. You can tell already he’s a real wild one, so you push the edges of your mouth down and pretend to find a lot of interest in grabbing your purse instead. “Well, mister, thanks for the saving. See you around.” You’re not above picking up a guy in a bar but why not tease him a little more while you’re at it?

He tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and grabs your jacket off the back of the stool. “It’s Eddie.” He says, “My name.”

“Hmm, Edward, nice to meet you.”

“Not a chance,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“I know what you are,” you continue voice flat, eyes glinting with mischief. 

C’mon, someone named Edward who looks like that, there’s no way he’ll take the bait.

His eyes fix on you, playful. “Say it,” he leans closer to you, drowning out the sounds of Joan Jett asking who wants to touch her where. “Out loud. Say it.”

Giving it your best Kristen Stewart, you go for it: “Vampire.”

“Fuck you very much.” He laughs, voice soft against the din of the bar,

You smile and slip the sleeves of your jacket over your arms. “Well, Eddie, thanks for the saving. Bein’ a helpless chick and all, I sure hate it when a fella doesn’t know his place.”

Eddie’s pink tongue darts out to lick his equally pink lips and he hops off the stool, placing a five under his half-full beer. “Can I walk you to your car?” He asks. “You know—dark night, creeps in alleyways and parking lots… Unless it’s not my place… princess.”

Well, that’s just not playing fair.

You laugh, because it’s barely sunset. But the way he’s looking at you makes your blood rise and leak hot magma right into your tummy. What’s the harm, you think, because you’re new in town and you’ll likely never see him again. It’s Friday night.

“No, I suppose it’s not your place.” You pause, watching the disappointed expression on his face. “Eddie–” You pretend to wipe a smudge off the corner of his leather collar, leaning in until it really does look like he’s your boyfriend.

“You’re welcome to come to mine. But no more of this priss business.” You push your lips into an exaggerated pout.

He laughs a joyful noise, tugs his jacket on close to his chest, and follows you out the door.

Your purse is already in your hands, keys swinging around your finger. “If you’ll just—”

“God. Yes. I’ll follow you.”

Eddie tugs you from the driver’s seat of your car, hand entwined with yours as he follows you up the walkway and over the step. Once the front door shuts behind him and you’ve made sure it’s locked, you’re pressed up against the wall, purse, shoes, keys, clattering onto the hardwood.

“Oh, baby,” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, scooping you up into his arms. “Oh, Jesus, princess. You’re makin’ me crazy.”

Fuck. How can one person have so much stamina? This guy must be related to the Energizer Bunny. It’s been nearly two hours and he’s propped up against the headboard of your bed, legs spread, pointer finger beckoning you to crawl between them. This is your third (third!) time going at it.

You paw at your face because you are so sweaty. Eddie’s hair is down, strands framing his cheeks, just as wild as he is. Two hours of some of the filthiest talk you’ve ever head, ass-slapping, spit-swapping, hair-pulling, straight-up debauchery.

“This your usual M.O., Eddie, or are you doin’ me a favor?” You ask as your knees nudge him wider apart. Blowing a damp strand from your forehead, you lie down on your stomach and press your mouth to his thigh. “Death by exhaustion.”

“Sexhaustion,” He laughs, then grunts as your lips finds the blunt head of his cock. “You’re still goin’ too.” He comments. “Jesus, girl. Can I call you sometime?”

You hum a vibrating warble and he shudders in delight, “The helpless chicks of Hawkins won’t mind?”

“Pfft.” Then, as easily as he dismisses the idea, Eddie rests his arm on your shoulder before pulling you flush against him. “C’mere.”

There’s something about him that turns you inside out. Easy-going demeanor. Charm and wit. Just fucking gorgeous. It’s a silly little notion from a romanticized one-nighter, but you’re very interested in prolonging the fantasy. You’ll get the best of this, you think, a no-strings attached kind of attachment with someone who makes your body sing. You don’t even want to know his last name—and you don’t tell him yours no matter how many times he asks. You want to know nothing about him other than what you can touch and taste and feel.

And there’s quite a lot of him for all of that. Your hands roam his shoulders and arms, your tongue laps at the sweat on his neck, your tummy tightens when his cock flexes against your hip.

Even if there might be an attachment, the physical distance of him— you have no idea where he lives, would nip that foolishness right in the bud.

Against the backdrop soundtrack of the neighborhood traffic and chatter, you wiggle your way on top and seal your arrangement with a glide of your hips onto his.

Monday morning finds you unpacking in your new classroom at Hawkins High School (home of the Tigers!) and blaring music from your speakers. The tech guy said he’d be around to check the audio levels and load some editing software onto the Macs at some point today, and you’d been killing time ever since.

After meeting with your department head, along with a few other teachers, and getting the lay of the land, you decided to hang a few prints on your walls— you were standing on a table hammering a nail into the wall when you hear voices from the hallway.

“Ooh, this is a vibe!”

Turning to the door, you see two heads precariously poking in and recognize one from the department meeting. Sliding the hammer through a belt loop on your shorts, you step down from the table.

“It’s Robin, right— graphic design?”

The blonde perks up with a smile, “Yeah! How’s it going, need any help?” She steps into your classroom with another woman. “Oh this is Trouble,” she says by way of introduction, “She teaches sophomore English.”

She waves to you with a smile. “I’m digging the aesthetic,” she says, taking in the few things you’ve managed to unpack. “Sick tats, by the way.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You grab the frame next to you and step back on the table, “I figured I wouldn’t need to cover them up until school starts so.”

“Pfft, don’t even bother.” Trouble scoffs with a wave of her hand, “We have enough teachers with ‘em so it’s a non-issue.” She steps closer to get a better look at the Drive print near your door.

Robin grabs another frame from the pile, “Where do you want this one?”

Settling the Paprika print against the wall you step back down to see which one she grabbed. “Oh,” you say, eyeing the Midsommar piece in her hands, “That’ll be by my desk, you can set it over there.”

You meet her over there with two nails prized between your teeth. Grabbing a chair you step onto it and briefly check the fastening of the frame before lining up where the nails will be hung. While Robin helps you the other woman, Trouble, continues her perusal.

“Okay,” she says with a clap of her hands, “You have great taste based on your playlist, film choices, and is that—” She tugs at your free arm, “A horror sleeve? Oh my god, you have to meet the gang. They will love you.”

Her enthusiasm is heartening— she turns your arm this way and that, surveying the different films represented in black lines and shading. Robin’s eyes find yours with a mouthed ‘sorry about this’ and you shrug.

“Robs has your number?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your arm becomes your own once more as her fingers stop their tracing of your tattoos.

“Great! We’ll text you the details,” she continues to say, “We’re checking out a new bar in town tonight.” A waggle of her brows, “Rumor has it there’s a mechanical bull.”

A smile breaks across your face, “Well, yee-fuckin’-haw I guess.” 

They leave with promises to see you tonight just as the tech guy, Bob, makes his appearance. He greets you politely, asking to check your PC and Mac before moving onto the students Macs. The two of you install and update the computers in your classroom before heading to the sound booth to check the audio ports and software. The rest of your day is spent discussing the finer points of your preferred editing programs and Bob peppering you with questions about the best cameras and equipment for sports broadcasting.

Eddie arrives at six-forty at the bar Trouble had selected for this evening, fittingly called ‘Outlawed.’ He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets, quickly crossing the parking lot to enter the bar, his mind elsewhere.

It was too good to be true, really. Meeting some girl and fooling around with her and, of course, he can’t help thinking about her. He doesn’t even know her name, he just calls her princess. Sometimes sweetheart, sometimes baby, babygirl, because their little meet-cute at the bar spawned a million different alternatives to choose from.

He’s only seen her once for fuck’s sake, but the way she giggles when he takes off her clothes and how her breath stutters against his mouth is something he thinks about frequently when he’s in bed with his hand down his boxers.

And now, Trouble wants to set him up with some new teacher at school. She’d told him all about it at lunch. “Seriously Eds,” she said, splitting a burger with Steve as a tomato slid from the bun and landed with a splat on her plate. “She’s just your type, cool as hell and takes no shit,” she hands the burger off to Steve, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Had like, fuckin’ nails in her teeth and was just hammering away on there walls while listening to an amazing mix— Portishead, Death Grips,” her eyes turn to him, bright and excited. “Between the Buried and Me, so she’s automatically better than those chicks you’ve been dealing with on the apps.”

Outside, under the final rays of sunshine people are streaming down the sidewalk, couples with arms hooked around each other, pretty girls in heels and guys looking after them. Monday night in the Hawkins, surprisingly buzzing with life and music.

He spots Steve as he walks in and they walk next to each other, dodging people left and right as Steve leads them into the dark space of a bar, cramped more than sardines in a can. Eddie shuffles sideways to squeeze past a couple already a little too frisky for a public setting. It’s hot and sticky inside, and the smell of fried foods and beer permeates through his clothes.

He doesn’t really get the look of it, either. An entirely metal and southern kind of aesthetic, the kind that reminds him of old bleach-blonde, wrinkly and tanned housewives with rhinestones on the back pockets of their jeans, toting puckered alligator purses. There are string lights over the walls, bumper stickers, and license plates, and all manners of slogans about Texas and being a country girl.

Modelo neon lights. Budlight paraphernalia. The bartender is wearing cowboy boots.

Steve orders a six-dollar pitcher of the house draft and Eddie whistles. Okay, he thinks, for six dollars a pitcher—he gets this place.

He waves to Robin and Vickie before pointing over to Trouble’s table but Steve and Eddie take some time to themselves to shoot the shit.

“So, are ya gonna tell me about that girl or what?”

“What else is there to tell, man?” Eddie asks as he licks the froth from his upper lip, hoppy bursts of carbonation stinging his tongue. He’s kept her a secret even from Trouble, but it’s not like there was much he could say other than, “She screwed my brains out and then I left. Nothin’ more to tell.”

Steve nods along.

“I don’t even know her name. Just called her princess or baby all the time. She’s a goddamn wildcat, knew how to ride like it was her job. Great ass, too.” A shudder passes over him as he thinks of the way she would crush him into the bed and grind until lights burst behind his eyelids.

The last few words of their conversation get drowned out by loud cheers and whooping, drawing their attention to a crowd forming behind them. People press up against each other, holding their beer bottles and glasses in the air, cheering and screaming.

“What the hell is that?” Eddie calls to Steve who sits up straight chair to get a peek over the tops of everyone’s heads. “I think it’s a mechanical bull?” He replies, shrugging. “Wanna go look?”

“Might as well.”

Robin catches Steve’s eye and sends him a nearly lethal toothy grin, cocking her head over to the crowd. “Go get her, tiger!” She yells, one hand cupped over the edge of her mouth. Eddie’s grabbed by his arm and dragged along as Steve’s interest peaks.

It’s like a concert mosh pit. Someone splashes their drink next to Eddie’s shoe, and he steps out of the way. When they reach the center of the ring around the perimeter of the stage, Eddie’s heart drops because the face he sees—beaming with joy is attached to a body he knows extremely well. Intimately. Every single inch. Her hips, gyrating in circles as she holds onto the handles of the mechanical bull—he’s seen it. Her hair, flurrying around her face in circles, moving along to the whipping of her body, adjusting with every jerk of the machine—he’s seen that, too.

“I think that’s the one Trouble was goin’ on about.” Steve announces. “Jesus, how is she doin’ that?”

Eddie is wide-eyed, turning back and forth. It’s too much. The laughter from her throat he’s previously shoved himself down. The cheer from the crowd that is deafening in his already ringing ears. Steve’s clapping– like a trained circus seal.

When the bull bucks for the last time, she leans forward and runs both hands through her hair, flicking it over her shoulders. Then, his girl, ever a gymnast, hops off and gives the crowd a bow, picking up her jacket on the way. Eddie watches her grab the same one she had on the first time they met- faded denim, worn shoulders, decorated in pins and patches.

It’s gotta be fate. Or destiny. Or maybe some fucked-up circumstance.

Her face is bright with joy, cheeks glistening with the lightest sheen of sweat, lips shiny with the way her tongue flicks out and licks it. To his right, Steve discreetly adjusts his pants, but Eddie is already rock hard. He slides back until he’s disappeared behind his friend, a smirk suddenly growing.

Trouble claps you on the back when you step out of the cushions of the ring. Robin and the rest of the gang stand by with so many questions, but you only wave them off. The secret is that in your college days you worked at a restaurant with a mechanical bull, and on your breaks you rode the fuck out of it.

Sometimes, growing up in the dirty South had its perks.

At first, upon entering the bar, you were wary and afraid you might throw out your back now that you’re not a spry young thing, but two pitchers in with Trouble and Robin and you were spitting into your hands and swinging over its seat.

Yep. You think victoriously, still got it.

“Hey!” A coif of hair sticks out of the crowd an inch or so above most other people. Steve, Trouble’s boyfriend and history teacher at Hawkins High, is grinning ear-to-ear, and you duck because you were not expecting him to witness that. Trouble smacks you on the ass and pushes you forward. “So, you hid this from us?” She asks, motioning to the bull and then up and down to you.

“Aw, fuck,” you mutter but can’t help the grin that breaks across your face. “C’mon, y’all… I didn’t think it’d come up.” Steve hands you a glass of amber, and you hide behind it with your hand, pretending to cool off by pressing it to your forehead.

“I almost forgot–” He turns, looking over his shoulder. “I wanna introduce you to Eddie, my other roommate, he teaches at Hawkins too!”

Eddie swivels into view, and any previous thoughts fly right out your head. If you had something in your mouth, you’d probably choke on it. He’s there, in all his glory, just like you remember: black leather jacket, dark stubble and eyes moving like smooth bourbon poured into a glass as he looks you up and down.

His teeth are sharp when he smiles.

“Oh, princess,” Eddie sighs, “I can’t believe you thought you’d get away that easy.”

And you think, as you stare wide-eyed at him, with Steve now coming to the same conclusion—mouth forming a silent “Oh”, you think that you are so fucked.

Maybe your life isn’t a romantic comedy at all, maybe it’s a terrible porno opening scene or some psycho sexual thriller because your former one-night stand is shooting you a mischievous grin, flexing his biceps, pulling on his lower lip with his teeth until it stretches white and snaps back plump and red.

Sensing the tension, Steve quickly turns around to the table.

Eddie cocks his head back, motioning you to follow.

[little-diable]

Committed Sins – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This is pure filth. And I'm not sorry for it. Don't copy or edit this to Wattpad or Ao3 please. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle and (y/n) keep on playing the same game over and over again, pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, piv, wrong use of a rosary, spanking, degrading, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x nun!fem!reader (1.5k words)

“Sister (y/n)?” The sharp voice left her tensing, eyes flickering up from the ground to meet Sister Jeany’s dark eyes. The elderly woman stared her down, hand tightening its grip on the wooden rosary dangling from her fingers, a daunting sight that followed (y/n) into her dreams, remembering the first time she had been forced to kneel on the wooden pearls, ripping open her skin as a punishment for sinning. “Priest Riddle is asking for you, God knows what he wants, but you better be on your finest behaviour. The Lord is always watching.” 

Slowly (y/n) rose to her feet, gaze averted as she followed Sister Jeany down the hallway, not daring to look at the other nuns, whispering about (y/n). It had been months since she had joined the convent, running away from her hometown, her abusive boyfriend, and her parents that have never cared for her. The convent had taken her in with open arms, at least till the first time they found her smoking a cigarette, punished with cleaning the hallways with a toothbrush and only a glass full of water. 

“Look at me.” The elderly woman forced (y/n) to halt, dangerous eyes shooting shudders down her spine. (Y/n) straightened her posture, forced to get lost in the eyes that projected a picture so haunting (y/n) forgot to breathe. “Whatever he asks you to do, you will do, you won’t protest. He is the Lord’s voice on this holy earth, what he asks you to do, is the Lord’s will. Do you understand?” 

(Y/n) could only nod her head, teeth leaving marks on her lower lip to bite down her smirk. It wasn’t the first time she had been called to Priest Riddle’s office, lured into the dark room that has seen more sins being committed than the human eye could count. The other nuns had no clue of the things the young priest did to (y/n), how he touched her with wandering hands, how he fucked her on his desk as if God himself was acting through his flesh cage. 

“Priest Riddle? (Y/n)’s here.” Sister Jeany’s call was met with a soft “Come in, please”. The woman watched (y/n) step into the room, door being shut in her face with a loud thud. The heavy wood of the door would keep their sounds bottled in, drowned out for curious ears, and nosy minds. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Tell me, (y/n), how many sins have you committed in the past week?” The priest wore a sickening smirk on his lips, leaning back in his chair as he watched her stand proud before him. Her wandering fingers moved up her dress, all too familiar with the game he was playing, asking the same questions he’d always ask. 

“Four.” He hummed at her reply, eyes focusing on her fingers, watching her pop open the buttons of her dark habit. “I touched myself to the thought of you, in the confessional, moaned your name in the middle of the night, hoping that you’d hear me.”

“You’re walking a thin line, (y/n), soon your luck will run out. And then they’ll all know what a greedy whore you are for your priest's cock.” He rose to his feet as if the Devil himself was rising from hell, boots meeting the ground to walk to her. His cold hands caught hers, ripping them from her habit to undo the last button himself. She was naked beneath the habit, she had hoped that the day would end like this, with her body pressed against his, with her eyes squeezed shut and with her fingernails clawed into his skin. 

“For you I’d always sin, one with the call of darkness.” Their lips met in a bruising kiss, forcing a moan to claw through her, arms wrapped around his neck. The priest turned them around, pushing (y/n) against his desk, trapping her with no way out. He had her in his claws, one with the darkness thumping through his veins, a sour emotion that had been etched into his system from his first year on earth, following the Devil’s every command. 

She was pushed back against the table top, legs wrapped around the priest’s legs. His hand disappeared in the pocket of his jacket, wrapping his rosary around his fingers before he brought his hand between her naked thighs, guided by her moans. Her eyes met his as she felt the wooden pearls press against her folds, choking on her sob, not used to the unfamiliar sensation. 

The priest brushed the pearls through her folds, coated in her arousal, forcing the metal cross to leave imprints on her skin. It was sinful, so sinful, and yet (y/n) couldn’t help but beg for more, needing to be stuffed by him, wanting to feel his fingers disappearing inside her. A heavy “Please” rolled off her tongue, echoing through the room like a prayer spoken by one of the nuns, filled by nothing but the wish to please the Lord in Heaven. 

Her trembling frame was pushed even closer towards him, gasping in surprise as she felt two of his fingers being pushing into her, forcing her walls to part. The priest didn’t give her the needed time to adjust, eyes rolling back into her head, trapped in the darkness he had unleashed upon her body. Curses left her, rumbling through his chuckling frame like a prayer both spoke in unison. 

“I will fuck you now, remind you who you belong to. Not to Him, but to me, to me only.” A protesting whine left (y/n) as he pulled his fingers from her cunt, forcing her lips to part to lick his digits clean. Their eyes kept holding contact while she moved her tongue, moaning at her taste, urged on by the anticipation flushing through her system. “Turn around.”

It took her a moment to follow the command, rising to her feet with quivering limbs, back turned towards him as she pressed her front against the table top. His hand came in contact with her behind, spanking her without a warning, making (y/n) tighten her hold on the edge of the table. A simple “Count” left the man, hand coming in contact with her skin once again. 

Every strike was met with a whimper, fighting against the need to press her thighs together, unable to stop her arousal from dripping down her inner thighs. He found a sick satisfaction in seeing her whimper for him, in leaving his handprint on her skin, clearly marking her as his property, his toy. 

Only as a soft “Six” left (y/n) did he let go of her, freeing his hardening cock to give her a few seconds to catch her breath. His cock was brushed through her folds, collecting enough arousal to push into her with ease, coaxing a high pitched moan from her swollen lips. The man fucked her fast, not holding back as his hips snapped against her bruised behind, forcing himself deeper into her tightness with every thrust. 

“Christ, you’re so big.” Her words were met with another strike of his hand, murmuring a sharp “Don’t take His name in vain”. Like a sinning woman should be punished, he left her begging for more, something only He’d be able to give her, not one wandering with darkness seeping from every hole of his body. 

Her knuckles turned lighter as (y/n) clung to the edge of the table, feeling her walls flutter around him, ready to give in within the first few moments. She was desperate for her release, desperate to let go with the priest’s name leaving her, and with her heart picking up its racing beat. 

“Look at you, trembling with my cock buried inside of you, you will burn in hell one day.” It was a foolish threat, he’d burn right next to her, forever tied together by the sins they keep committing together, but (y/n) couldn’t pay his words enough attention, fighting against her arising orgasm. Her walls clenched down on his cock, begging him to give her the final push. With a click of his tongue he tainted her, forcing her to hold on, fucking her faster with groans rumbling through the man of God. 

One of his cold hands found its way to her cunt, rubbing her bundle of nerves to give her the final push, choking on his name. He kept snapping his hips, cock buried inside of her till he forced himself to pull himself free, releasing himself on the back of her thighs. With his cum running along her skin, the priest forced her to stand, lips meeting one last time before they redressed. 

“Oh, and (y/n),” he called after her, stopping her from leaving his office. “Go and pray, confess to your sins, may he be benevolent with your sinning soul.”

[babe-a-tron-queenthousand]

i just wanna thank everyone for all the love on my V cosplay. it was a tough build, and is still in progress/reworks. i intend on making her prom dress, maid dress, and camp uniform.

long ass post ahead detailing progress, so hold onto your socks!

📸 by my bestie caro :)

the closer to completed i got with the parts, the more and more every little thing went wrong. i need to rework/repair a LOT before i enter her in any competitions. i also intend on building her wings. may post progress updates

for the EVA foam arms, i made them too long (and still need to trim them more) and was unable to use my arms at all. i had to ask my girlfriend to hold and manage all my stuff at the convention. :,) they’re also gritty as hell, because i had to make them outside and the wind kept blowing them off the work area while the paint was wet. the paint messed up a lot and had to be re-done several times.

as for the mask, similar to the arms. the paint gave me hell and i had to trim it down multiple times. i also lost it to a gust of wind at the convention! i was EXTREMELY lucky that my bestie was able to spot it in a road median the next day.

originally, the tail was going to have LED’s in it similarly to the headband. however, the electronics kept breaking. no matter how much i fiddled with it and attempted to re-solder it, it would not work. at one point, the line suspending the tail snapped. that was an insane repair on the con floor.

i was hoping to have the dress done fast, as i have most of the parts pinned and ready to sew but the machine does not like the stretchy fabric. at all.

even though i measured a gajillion times, the stockings did not end up as long as i would have liked them. the painting on them is unfinished too, and was all done the two nights before con. i actually ended up passing out while working them because of how much i overworked myself with school and con crunch!

as a last-second improvise, i whip-stitched some fur on a thrifted top!

i was originally going to do the fingers on the glove with foam, but the parts all peeled and ripped, so i just painted it instead. one of the fingers on the glove even almost came off.

[hellhoundvv]

Hot, Wet, Sticky Sweet

Chapter one: She's got the peaches, He's got the cream

"Holy shit..."

It was all Eddie Munson could breathe out, his eyes widening at the unexpected display he pulls up to.

After carting around the Hellfire kids and driving out to the Hideout to play with Corroded Coffin the night before, he was in desperate need of filling up his van. The Indiana heat was brutal today, the end of summer deciding to go out in a fiery bang before fall.

The distorted waves coming off the broken up asphalt are a testament alone to that fact, along with the thin sheen of sweat sticking Eddie's black tank top to his back. Except now, there was a whole new reason to be sweating his ass off.

Unbeknownst to him, Hawkins High was running a local car wash at the largest gas station in the small town. At least 15 or so of his schoolmates were running the event, something about raising money for a fellow student who had been diagnosed with cancer.

All of the hottest girls in school, and some of the boys were out here today; dressed in such little amounts of clothing, it might as well have been a strip club.

None of the cheerleaders, or queen bees caught Eddie's attention no matter how typically fucking drop dead sexy they were. No, the girl his wide brown eyes lands on and can not be torn away from was one he barely knows.

He's definitely seen her around school before, a senior like him who transferred in just this year. Eddie knows next to nothing about her, other than she's one of the few kids in this Hick town that defies social convention.

The moment he laid eyes on her in his 3rd period home ec class, he was heart eyes to the extreme for her. Eddie wanted nothing more than to have an excuse to go up and talk to her, but her stoic, ice cold resting face always stopped him from approaching her. If she was a bitch then Eddie would have no way of charming her. So he stares at her from afar, hoping one day he would have the courage to talk to her.

Watching all her fellow students and their lines endlessly filling up with cars, while her lane was relatively empty, Eddie feels himself getting a little angry. He knows it's because she was not one of the conventionally attractive girls in their mini skirts and white tops raking in every man with a pulse and a car within a hundred foot radius.

This girl was what other people would say was "fat", but to Eddie she was just divine. He was half way to drooling seeing her in ripped fishnets under a modest pair of black shorts. Eddie huffs out a groan, as she lifts the hem of her soft gray AC/DC shirt that's been diy cropped. She was using the shirt to wipe away a bit of soapy water that had splashed onto her chin, and Eddie didn't have to have the wild imagination he possessed to envision the white, sudsy spray as something far more... erotic.

"Jesus..." Eddie mumbles, trying to catch his breath as he leans forward in his seat. This whole scene was definitely something straight out of one of his wildest fantasies. 

Eddie chokes back a strangled sound, torn between filling up and rushing home to whack it off to that small glimpse of his fantasy girl, or seeing if he was brave enough to bite the bullet and request her services so he can see her even closer.

She was finishing up on a little old ladies car, shocking Eddie to the core as he sees her smiling at the woman. He's still too far away to really study the full wonder of her smiling face, but it doesn't stop his cheeks from warming a bit at the sight.

"Shit," Eddie mutters, as the old lady  drives off, leaving the girls lane empty again. She immediately lets her smile fall, the same bored look on her face that Eddie usually notices her wearing. 

 Suddenly filled with a confidence he never knew existed, Eddie hits the gas. He could just go back home and take care of himself, sure. But there was something so enticing about the thought of being the only one receiving this girl's attention.

Eddie swallows nervously, making his way over to the lane, trying to look as confident as possible despite his trembling hands. 

It's now or fucking never Munson, Eddie tells himself as he gently drives his shitty van up to the girls area. He nervously fiddles with the radio, turning his music down so as not to blast her ears off as she walks over.

He raps along with the drum solo using his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to appear nonchalant even as his throat goes dry the moment she's at his window.

The tap of her black nails on the glass pulls him out of his racing thoughts, and he starts to sputter curses under his breath as he frantically goes to roll down his window.

He's surprised to see her smiling up at him, her lipstick a blood red shade that just make her brown eyes even more alluring.

"Thanks for stopping by today, would you like windows only, or the full wash?"

She has her arms crossed under the heavy swell of her chest, and Eddie swallows the whimper crawling up his throat when he realizes she's most definitely not wearing a bra.

"Um... full wash?" Eddie breathes out, his eyes growing wide as the girl's ample cleavage fills his view. He quickly swallows, doing his best to avoid staring too blatantly, though his gaze keeps sneaking over to her chest.

She was even more cute up close, and Eddie was starting to feel like he would be content just sitting here and staring at her forever. But no, they were at the carwash, so he needs to snap out of it and focus!

"So, um, you think you can handle this junker?" He finds himself asking. 

The girl sweeps her gaze over Eddie's large vehicle, her brows arching up into the soft curtain bangs framing her face. "I hope you don't mind being here for a bit, your car is probably the biggest one I'll wash all day."

God. Eddie doesn't want to see an innuendo where it shouldn't be, but he's so keyed up just from looking at her out here in such tantalizing clothes that he can't help himself.

He sputters, feels his face grow hot as his voice valiantly tries not to crack when he replies, "It's- it's not that big."

Her eyebrows raise even more, the hint of a smirk at the edge of her lips. "Really?" She drawls, and Eddie can feel his stomach twist at the way her tone drops lower, "because from where I'm standing, it looks very, very big to me."

That was it. Eddie realizes his mistake instantly, the teasing glitter in her eyes making him wish the ground would swallow him whole so she wouldn't have to see how pathetically aroused she was making him. 

At her words, his cheeks flush further with a mix of embarrassment and desire. He clears his throat softly, his mind blanking in panic. "Um... I just mean... it's a van..." 

"Well all the same, it's gonna take me a little longer to get your baby nice and clean. You can go and grab some stuff from the gas station, or wait here."

Eddie looks away for a moment, hating how fucking pervy he feels as he realizes how badly he wants to be there the whole time, catching any glimpse he possibly can to file away in the spank bank for later.

He's about to chicken out, just go grab some snacks he doesn't even want to leave her in peace to do her job, when her excited voice breaks him out of his spiral.

"Ride the Lightning, that's a fucking great album."

Eddie's eyes go wide as he looks between her and the cassette player still playing some good ole Metallica. 

His head whips around towards the girl, his eyes widening in surprise that she recognized the song title. "You like Metallica?" Eddie asks incredulously, his jaw dropping open with excitement.

She was already one of the hottest girls he had ever had more than a two second conversation with, but now she's also revealing herself to be a metalhead? He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so infatuated by a person. And god the way she says "Ride the Lightning" in her soft, husky voice was driving him crazy. 

"Oh yeah, big fan. I'm practically salivating for their next album to be released. And you bet my sweet ass I'm going to get tickets when they finally go on tour again."

She's leaning back on her heels as she continues to look up at Eddie. It's then that Eddie notices her chunky platform boots, and even with the added heel height, how short she was. Damn... now that was really fucking cute. 

"Me too! I tried getting tickets for the last few tours, but I never had the money. But this time, I swear I'm going to be first in line."

He watches as she leans back on her heels, her shorts riding up her thighs as she does so. It's damn near impossible to concentrate while staring at her, and he can feel himself growing more and more anxious for the carwash to be over with. He wants her all to himself so he can get better acquainted. 

"That's a fucking tragedy Eddie," the girl says, and for what it's worth she honestly looks like she feels bad that he had missed out. "Their last tour was life changing."

Eddie couldn't really focus on that, though, because his brain was too busy short circuiting over the fact that she actually knew his name. 

"Life changing, huh?" Eddie breathes out, still trying to process how he had become so enamored with this stranger so quickly. At her words about the last tour, he feels a twinge of bitterness at the idea of possibly missing out on this next one.

He can't help but smile a little when she says his name, feeling an intense swell of happiness that she knew he existed. "So... Do you remember my name from home ec or..." Eddie trails off, his head spinning with questions. It was such a small class, he felt it was unlikely she would have noticed him otherwise. 

"Well there's that, but you do realize you've got an infamous reputation at school right? You're always causing a scene in the cafeteria, so it's hard not to remember a guy like Eddie Munson." 

He shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Well, I like to keep things interesting. Gotta give people something to talk about besides the cheerleaders." Eddie watches her draw invisible shapes on the rim of his car window with such sappy affection that he hopes she doesn’t notice. 

"Well you definitely achieved that one, a lot of students have so many bizarre theories about you. I don't believe any of them of course, although I don't think I'd be too upset if you turned out to be a vessel for Satan like some of the more uptight kids like to say." 

Eddie can feel a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, finding her comment hilarious. He also liked the fact that she had shut down any ideas about him being the devil's vessel. He couldn't help but lean back in his seat, finding her antics charming in the most peculiar way. He clears his throat softly. "I'm guessing you're not one of the kids who thinks I'm a badass criminal mastermind either?" 

"You hang out with a bunch of freshmen who play Dungeons and Dragons with you every week in your club, so no, I don't think you're a criminal mastermind." She's teasing him, and Eddie feels the hot flush of embarrassment eat at him from her words. He was hoping that she didn't think he was lame because yeah... all of those things were true, no denying it. 

"Well... yeah, but... I've got other hobbies too. And... and..." Eddie trails off, feeling his mind suddenly blank out in embarrassment. He was trying to paint himself as more of a well adjusted person, but the truth was, playing DnD with freshman kids was pretty much the highlight of his week. He didn't know what to do with himself when his plans were disrupted on dnd nights. 

"It's alright Eddie, I'm not judging you. Well, maybe a little in a playful teasing way, but I'm not seriously making fun of you."

The girl shrugs, hoping she was able to explain herself well enough. "Sorry, sometimes I say things in a way that can seem kinda mean. I promise I'm only like, 60% bitch." 

Eddie bursts out laughing, his cheeks burning as he lets himself enjoy her teasing. She was definitely not what he was expecting when he had rolled up to the carwash.

"I mean... that's okay, I... I'm not one hundred percent innocent and pure either. Though my bitch meter is probably about... eighty percent?" He gives her a mischievous smile, trying to tease her right back. Which is hard, when he's so focused on trying not to stare intently at her boobs.

The girl looks him over, a small smile hovering on her lips as she sorts through this whole interaction they've had. "I hate to break it to you Eddie, but I don't think your bitch-o-meter is as high as you think it is." 

"Really, why do you say that?" He asks curiously. He was enjoying their banter, even if it was mildly embarrassing to have this girl know exactly how he was feeling. Still, the fact that she seemed to really like teasing him was working in his favor. He was hoping he would be given another opportunity for a flirty comment so he could reply with a good line instead of stumbling over his words.

"Because I've never seen a boy blush so much just from talking to a girl." 

Eddie's face heats up again as her words register. She couldn't possibly know just how hard he was focusing on not looking at her skin-tight top and short shorts. But he knew she definitely caught on to how quickly she was making his face turn red. 

"I'd hate to see what would have happened if you pulled up into Hannah Dawson's line--- you probably would have died the moment she leaned over your windshield, and you got a good view of her soapy chest in that little bikini she decided to wear." The girl emphasizes her words by jerking her chin in the direction of a girl washing a sleek corvette two cars down.

The girl's words cause another flash of heat to spread across Eddie's cheeks, but only for a moment. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He hadn't even remembered the names of the other girls out here, let alone what they were wearing. "Okay... you have my curiosity and my attention," he chuckles. "Tell me who else is driving me insane here, other than you." 

Her smile falters a little, a closed off aura settling over her. But it's gone as soon as it appears, and she's forcing another smile for Eddie.

"Alright, enough chit chat. I need to get your car washed so the incredibly totally real long line I have doesn't have to wait any longer."

She's joking, but as Eddie looks into his rear view mirror, he sees that no other cars had pulled up to her lane, while all the others were bumper to bumper leading out to the streets. 

"Right, right. I... do need to get my car washed." He clears his throat, the heat spreading across his cheeks again. This girl, she was just too cute. "So... I suppose I'll just wait here then. Let me know when you're done, yeah?" 

"Yeah, relax and let me know if you need any areas scrubbed extra hard."

She lifts her wet, soapy sponge triumphantly with her words and Eddie is back to feeling like a love struck idiot over her silly antics. With that, she leans in and starts soaping up the sides of his van.

"I- uh... maybe you should scrub really... hard... all over... " Eddie mumbles under his breath, doing his best to not look like an idiot as the girl leans over the hood of his car to scrub it.

Despite his attempts at looking nonchalant, there was no way she couldn't notice how he was staring at her. So he leans back against the front seat, still feeling his face burn even as she works, but also having his interest piqued. He knew she knew, and that made it almost impossible for him to look away from her. 

The girl starts with slow, long swipes, getting as much soap and water spread out for a light pre-wash. Her arms jiggle with the movement, a sight that Eddie knows a lot of boys would scoff at and mock. But Eddie can't help the heat that blooms in his belly with every movement of her soft, plump body. Her chest is swaying hypnotically, the rhythm of it making Eddie's head spin.

The moment she dips down to the bucket, the backs of her thighs and butt on full display as she wets her sponge, Eddie almost dies choking on his spit.

"F-fuck..." He manages to breathe out, the flickering heat in his belly growing. He can feel arousal and shame prickle up his spine. 

She circles around Eddie's van to get at the back, and Eddie burns shamefully as he goes to adjust the rear view mirror so he can catch any glimpse he can of her. Her brows are drawn together in concentration, her pink tongue poking out of the side of her mouth as she works.

Eddie feels himself lick at his own lips, wondering how it would feel to have her tongue touch any part of him. There's no stopping how turned on he was now, the tightness in his pants making him ache. He takes a few shallow, shuddery breaths as the girl ducks out of sight, circling to the other side of his van.

She peaks in at him through the passenger side window, giving him a cute little wave before leaning on her tiptoes to get at the windshield. A strangled groan gets caught in Eddie's throat, cut off by how fast he clamps his jaw tight so as not to cream his pants.

There was no way Eddie wasn't having the filthiest wet dream at this point, because as he watches with wide, unblinking eyes, he sees her chest press flat against the glass of his windshield.

The round, plump outline of her tits smashing and rubbing against the clear surface with every rough scrub she makes, has Eddie physically drooling in more than one place. 

All of Eddie's self control is going out the car window, his hands clinging to the front seat so tightly they almost turn white. The sight of her chest pressing against the glass makes him practically pant with arousal, and his entire body feels like a live wire. 

Eddie's shaking fingers fiddle with the volume, turning it up just enough to cover up how hard he's breathing to keep from cumming in his pants. 

He can still hear the occasional squeak of the girl's tits and her sponge rubbing vigorously on the glass, and it makes him start jiggling his leg out of pure anxious, horny energy. "Jesus H. Fucking Christ," Eddie grits out as his eyes flick back up to get another peak of her tits. The water must be cold, or she's getting stimulated from her activities, because her nipples were unmistakably hard. 

The puffy outline of her nipples right in Eddie's direct line of sight is the nail in the Coffin of fighting off his erection. Now his cock was painfully hard, the seam of his pants digging into the wet head in a mix of pain and pleasure so sweet that Eddie has to white knuckle grip his thigh to keep himself grounded to reality. 

Sweat is making Eddie's bangs stick to his forehead, the mix of having the AC off on this fucking miserably hot day and his arousal creating a shitty cocktail of Fuck Eddie Munson and his stupid Virgin Ass getting off on seeing a girl's tits so close. 

Eddie wants nothing more than to zip down his pants fly for a little relief, because the pain is definitely not helping him stay cool. 

"Mmm, fuck," Eddie exhales, allowing his hand to sneak surreptitiously down to palm his hot, hard length for even a fraction of relief. He hisses pleasantly at the touch, the tiny pressure from his palm makes his eyes flutter for a moment as he breathes hard through his nose. 

The girl has finished with his windshield, and Eddie almost keens with disappointment when she pulls her lovely, big tits off of the glass. White, frothy soap covers the glass which makes Eddie bite his lip. His thoughts race with images of a different kind of white creamy substance splattered all over her pretty boobs, maybe even hitting her chin like that bit of soap did earlier. 

A pathetic whimper sits in the back of Eddie's throat when his hips jerk up into his palm, unable to stop himself from how powerful the fantasy was affecting him. 

He is taken out of his half imagined day dreams by the sound of water pounding on the metal of his van. The spray of a hose distorts the view out of his windshield, making Eddie groan in frustration at not being able to see her anymore. Until the thought hits him… if he can't see her, she probably couldn't see him either. 

Guilt churns in his guts, but the hot, hard length of his cock is making his head fuzzy enough to not think straight. Eddie hates himself, but he gives in. 

The first rut of his hips brings Eddie such visceral pleasure that spots practically dance in his vision from how fucking heavenly it was. "S-shit fuck," Eddie grinds out eloquently, knowing he has very little time to enjoy this. He doesn't necessarily want to cum, just wants to enjoy this for what little time he can. 

Eddie humps desperately against his sweaty palm, the pressure hurting as much as it is helping. He wishes he could pull out his cock and feel the full heavy weight of himself in his hand. Enjoy the sticky mess of precum weeping from the head of his cock, slicking his fingers so perfectly to help him fuck his fist even faster. 

He can feel the wetness of himself through his jeans, thankful they were black otherwise anyone who looked in could see him making a pathetic, wet mess of himself in his pants. 

"So f'ckin pretty," Eddie slurs out, practically drunk off the heat pooling in his belly. He wishes he remembered her name, so he could feel the way it would vibrate in his chest and taste on his tongue as he would moan it out. 

Eddie thinks about her puffy nipples, how round and stiff they were as he grips his cock firmly to get a bit more relief. Drool fills his mouth as he wonders how good it would feel to suckle them. He knows he'd love it, knows he'd lap and kiss and suck on her tits for hours if she let him. 

He can feel the beginnings of an orgasm buzz under his skin, his breathing becoming heavy and shaky with each passing moment. The precipice is almost there, Eddie can almost reach it— 

And then the pelting sounds of the hose spraying away the soap comes to an abrupt halt. Now that there wasn't a heavy torrent of water against the windshield, the outside world was quickly coming into view and with it, the girl. 

Her shirt is soaked through, and Eddie can see the distinct outline of her chest and nipples; it's as if she wasn't even wearing a shirt. 

Wide eyed, Eddie can't tear his eyes away as the horror unfolds. She comes right up to his driver side window with a smile right as he cums violently hard in his pants. 

She gestures for Eddie to roll down his window, her smile faltering a little as she notices how heavy he's breathing and how red his face is. Eddie slams his eyes shut, humiliation burning through him, souring the euphoric hum of his orgasm. He doesn't want to roll down the window, terrified that she'll smell the cum and shame. 

But her brows are knitting together in concern and Eddie Munson isn't that much of an asshole. He silently kisses goodbye any imagined chance he might have had with her, as his shaking, sweaty hands roll down his window. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Her voice is immediately in his ear, making his sensitive nerves buzz with pleasure because Jesus fucking christ he really likes her voice. 

"Y-yeah," Eddie croaks out, cringing inwardly at himself. "Just a little hot in here with the AC off." As he talks to her, Eddie tries to discreetly adjust himself so the wetness in his pants won't be too noticeable. He feels his cum cooling on his thighs and under his ass, and he literally wants to die right about now. 

"Oh, sorry. I really tried to get it clean as fast as possible. You could have come out and enjoyed some cooler air though?" She's leaning up against Eddie's car door, her chest smooshing into the metal. 

"Yeah, I uh… I guess I could've done that huh? Got… distracted, 's a really good album after all." 

The girl laughs a little, nodding her head in agreement at Eddie's words. "Okay, fair enough. Again, I'm sorry it took so long, but she's all clean now! If you pull up to the front they're taking the donations up there." 

As embarrassed as Eddie is right now, and hoping she doesn't notice that he's sitting in a pool of his own cum, he can't help but feel a tinge of disappointment that their interaction was coming to an end. 

"Okay… yeah, um thanks. And don't worry, you could have taken all day for all I care." The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, making Eddie squeeze his eyes shut in utter mortification. 

"Enjoyed the show that much, huh?" The girl winks, but her laugh makes it clear how little she's taking this seriously. 

Oh if only you knew Eddie thinks to himself. 

"I… I no— I mean, that is I didn't not enjoy it, but I wasn't like, enjoying it in a weird way," 

She chuckles, reaching out to smoosh a finger to Eddie's lips to keep him from rambling on like that. As she leans up into his space, Eddie feels his face start burning again. Her eyes flicker between his, before lowering. 

He sees the exact moment that she notices the giant wet spot, impossible to hide even with his black jeans; her mouth parting on a sharp inhale of surprise. 

"Fuck," Eddie bites out, pulling away from her and trying in vain to hide the evidence of his shame. 

The girl's dark eyes lift up to meet Eddie's, and he's bracing himself to see hatred, disgust or even ice cold anger there. 

"You better get going Eddie, I've got another car to wash and you've got some jeans to clean." There's no maliciousness to her words, just a hint of cheeky teasing as she pulls away. 

Eddie can only bring himself to nod, before wordlessly driving forward. He sees her waving goodbye to him in the rear view mirror, and it only makes him feel worse. 

As quickly as possible, Eddie dumps whatever loose change he can into the donations box and floors it; not even caring about getting gas anymore. There was no way in hell he was getting out of the van with cum soaked pants and the hottest girl still in plain sight. 

Eddie goes to turn the volume up, blasting his music loud enough that maybe it would make his brain explode so he would never have to think about the greatest orgasm of his life followed quickly by his greatest humiliation, ever again. 

It was hours later, basking in the afterglow of another desperate, carwash girl fueled fantasy orgasm, that Eddie realizes he had never asked for her name. 

And that tomorrow morning, he was going to have to come face to face with her again in 3rd period. 

[hiddencitydweller]

Kingdom Dance

Pairing: Donnie x GN!Reader

(Reader is wearing a skirt, so take that as you will)

Absolute fluff!

Summary: You somehow managed to convince your tech-loving boyfriend to attend a ren faire with you, where you find yourselves caught up in a dance.

(Basically Tangled meets Turtles)

Warnings: Does poor writing count? With the structure of this fic, I wanted it to be a little more from Donnie's perspective rather than the reader, which was considerably harder than I thought it would be rip.

Word Count: 3k

Song Referenced: Dulámán

A/N: You know in Tangled, that scene where Rapunzel and Flynn are in the town square and he is just watching her dance with this besotted look on his face? And then he joins in and it's the most electric and romantic thing in cinematic history? Well, this is that but with some minor tweaks.

For all the people who long for someone to look at them like Flynn looks at Rapunzel, this one's for you.

-----------------------------------------------------

Let's make one thing clear—Donnie did not want to be here.

At least, that's what he kept saying.

Wooden shops lined the dirt road you traversed, uniquely dressed owners promoting their equally unique wares in their doorways. In some of the many open air booths, you could see countless novelties one would sooner find in Witch Town than your beloved New York City. Crystals, wands, leather armor, chainmail, and countless other fantasy-related items could be seen anywhere you looked—and not just in the shops.

Everyone around you was intricately dressed in some fantasy or medieval fashion. No two people looked alike. You were surrounded by elves, royalty, warriors, and even the occasional time-traveler or two. Even with Donnie's experience in the Hidden City and his grumbling at being here, he had to admit it all came together to create one fantastical sight.

When you had suggested the gang go to the local Renaissance Faire, Donnie had been more than skeptical. Of course Leo and Mikey were immediately in, going as far as planning their outfits and characters right on the spot. Raph took a little more convincing, but once you assured him how safe it really was (and that they could keep their weapons on hand without looking out of place) he caved into the younger brothers' excitement.

Your tech-loving boyfriend, however, took some more convincing.

To put it plainly, ren faires just weren't his scene. For starters, technology was bluntly discouraged, to which Donnie took personal offense. Then there was the fantasy element, which simply made no sense to him. His history with magic wielders had left nothing but a bad taste in his mouth, and he couldn't imagine why anyone would actively want to seek out that sort of experience, fake or otherwise. Not to mention the clear and unparalleled superiority of science to the nonsensical magic.

However, as you repeatedly brought up in your own arguments, you had gone to countless Comic-Cons, Galaxy-Cons and whatever other Sci-Fi conventions he and his brothers were able to drag you to over the years. It was only fair for them to return the favor.

"Besides, you may find you enjoy having a little more non-mystic fantasy in your life," you had said with a sly grin and wink.

And that's how he had landed here, clutching a wooden bo-staff as he trailed behind your near-bouncing form.

He had to admit, he was enjoying himself far more than he would ever openly say. While, true to form, there was very little tech to be found, there were plenty of other little intricacies that called his attention. From other faire-goers' costumes to the effects at the shows, there was plenty for his mind to dissect and look at. And there was you of course. He couldn't help but smile softly to himself as he watched you flit from stall to stall, gawking at the unique wares and happily chatting with other guests. You were as excited as he was whenever he finished a new project, and seeing you brimming with joy was just as intoxicating.

"Come on Dee! If we don't hurry, we'll miss the performance!" you whined as you continued to nearly drag him through the crowd towards a stout building that looked to be an open air pub. The two of you had just split from the rest of the group, choosing to visit some more shops and see some musical performances while the others went to watch the sword fights and jousting tournament (which Leo was determined to sneak his way into, much to Raph's dismay).

"There's only so fast I can go in this getup!" he shot back, but he still made an effort to pick up the pace. His usual gear had been replaced with a plain white linen shirt, brown pants, and an alchemist's apron with bottles of "chemical compounds" and "ingredients" strapped on. Heavy brown gloves, boots, and his signature goggles finished out the look.

"Are you kidding me?" you had said this morning when he came out of his lab, decked out in his alchemist gear.

"What? Alchemy is commonly used in fantasy and historical fiction, plus it's science! It's a win-win!"

Really you shouldn't have been surprised by his choice of costume, this was Donnie after all. He may have agreed to go along with this idea, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to bring science into it anyway he could.

Speaking of science...

"Based on the open structure of the building, the number of people, and the location of the stage, this table should have the optimal acoustics and volume for listening to the performance," Donnie rattled on, leading you to said table as he frantically typed calculations on his tech gauntlet which he had cleverly hidden underneath his glove.

"Really Donnie? Couldn't go one day without it?" you respond in mock exasperation. Honestly you were surprised that was the only piece of tech he had managed to smuggle in.

"Hey, it helped didn't it? Couldn't have found the best seats in the house without a little bit of, say it with me now, science!" he sang out, striking a pose and pulling some jazz hands. It had the desired effect as you laughed at his antics before softly pushing him down on the bench at the, apparently, best table in the house.

"Okay, okay, you got me there wise guy." You joined him on the bench but couldn't seem to stop moving with excitement. Donnie smiled as he felt your bouncing legs jostle him slightly, your eyes already trained on the stage where the musicians were setting up.

"So what exactly are we about to listen to? I'm assuming I shouldn't get my hopes too high for my usual?" Donnie had heard you talking about the group when you were discussing plans with everyone else, but he never picked up on what kind of music they actually played. Nevertheless, he was pretty sure techno and EDM were out of the question.

"Hardy har har, nice try. I think you'd be pretty hard-pressed to find anything off of your playlists here. This group does a mix of fantasy-based and traditional folk music. Every show they do is completely different, so you never really know what you're going to get. It'll probably be some more mainstream fantasy soundtracks and some of the folksy stuff. Ooo we may even get some sea shanties!" you practically squealed, your legs speeding up in their bouncing as you considered the possibilities. You couldn't help it. Even though your life was quite literally a living, breathing sci-fi movie, fantasy was your thing! You never felt more powerful than when you had a sword or bow in your hand or a corset wrapped around your waist.

Donnie let out chuckle at your antics, knowing full well how much all of this meant to you. While he couldn't exactly understand it, he found that he didn't really need to. Anything that made you this giddy was clearly something to be acknowledged, regardless of how confusing it appeared to him sometimes.

He turned his gaze from you and considered the stage, trying to see if he could analyze the instruments and predict any of the songs that might soon fill the space. Sure, it may not be exactly his taste, but he wasn't exactly unknowledgeable of this type of music. After all, you had shown him plenty of your own playlists. Maybe he should have spent more time listening to them and learning the music for this event. That was something he'd have to rectify for the future. Perhaps he could have S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. compile most of the songs so that he could...

"Hey Dee?"

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice you had stopped your excited leg bouncing and were now looking at him with a slightly abashed expression. He hummed in response, mind still whirring through instrument combinations and crossing off songs in a mental list.

"Thank you for doing this," you said in a small earnest voice. That had him finally turning his full attention back to you, a slight furrow between his brows. "Dressing up, leaving most of your tech behind, humoring me and my weird fascination with all this," you gestured at the faire around you, "I'm just... really happy to share it with you and am grateful you've let me. And I know it's not your cup of tea, and we can definitely go check out the weapons displays and everything or whatever else you may—" your ramblings were cut off by a soft kiss on your cheek.

You stared at him, eye wide and mouth in a small O. Donnie was never one for PDA, but you were finding there were occasionally some exceptions to the rule.

"I'm grateful that you want to share this part of you with me. I want to know every part of you, even if it's not technically my thing. Goodness knows you've dealt with enough techno-talk to last a life time," he said softly, smile still playing across his lips. Seeing you so concerned about including him in this precious part of your world had his chest filling with warmth he wasn't quite sure what to do with.

That seemed to be your specialty, completely rocking his known universe with a single line and a smile.

You huffed a laugh and leaned forward the extra few inches to rest your forehead against his, your own smile broadening. "I happen to like your techno-talks thank you very much."

"How could you not? They are chock full of brilliance!" he smirked as you laughed, leaning back far enough to playfully shove at his arm.

It's then that you both heard the first few notes float from the stage as the music group made their entrance and introductions. You quickly swiveled yourself away from Donnie and towards the stage. Donnie chuckled at your immediate response, watching your face light up before he turns as well.

True to what you said, the group did perform a variety of music, none of which matched up with the list Donnie had conjured in his head earlier, much to his chagrin. (He would definitely need to connect with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. about it when he got home.)

The flitting notes and boisterous chords were quite a contrast to his usual tastes, but he still found himself nodding and stomping along to the thick beats and steady rhythm. He could feel the sound reverberate around him, creating an almost electric energy throughout the space that left him in excited awe. At one point, the group played a popular sea shanty that even he knew. The two of you sang and stomped along to the song, bumping each and smiling the whole way through.

After what felt like only minutes but was really closer to an hour, the group announced it was time for their final song. You sighed and leaned into Donnie's arm, content written across your features. He smiled softly down at you, perfectly content himself at your expression. The close proximity allowed him to feel more than hear your slight gasp as the final song started. His smile turned quizzical at your reaction, but your slowly widening eyes remained trained on the stage, leaving his question unanswered.

A repetitive, steady drumbeat rang out and was soon joined by low voices singing in a layered harmony intertwining with the solid beat. Donnie furrowed his brow as he listened. He couldn't quite pick up what they were singing, but he was sure it wasn't English. His hypothesis was confirmed when the lead singer, an ethereal looking woman with bright red hair, stepped to the mic and began to sing an upbeat and lilting melody. Her voice seemed to skip across the base created by the drums and other voices like a stone on a pond, creating an intricate blend of sound and lyrics that Donnie just couldn't understand.

Not one to leave the unknown alone, he shifted his arm and pulled up his tech gauntlet once again. He quickly used the audio feature to search up the song and analyze its mysterious language. Victorious in his endeavor, he turned back towards you to once again prove science's superiority, but he froze when his gaze fell on you.

In his quest to understand the song, he hadn't noticed your clear recognition of it. Or that you had started singing along.

"Bróga breaca dubha are an dúlamán gaelach..."

Your voice was soft, filling only the air around the two of you. Much like the lead singer, the notes flitted around the space, seeming content to fly through the air and never land. The Gaelic, as his tech claimed the language to be, rolled off your tongue as if it was made specifically for you.

"Tá bearéad agus triús are an dúlamán maorach..."

His gaze seemed locked on you, entranced by the sight. With an absent flick of his wrist, the now forgotten screen turned off, taking with it the typed out lyrics and their translation. Donnie suddenly no longer had the urge to dissect the song and its meaning. He was perfectly content to interpret it through your eyes and voice alone.

Completely unaware of your captive audience, you continued to sing. You felt the words take form on your lips as they had dozens of times before. Your eyes shone bright and your smile took on a dreamy nature. You couldn't help but move with the song, shifting your head along with the melody and even going so far as to bring your hands up to your chest on particularly powerful lines. You were completely lost in the melody and the story it held.

And Donnie was lost in you.

Donnie prided himself on his mental clarity, his ability to analyze and think through any and everything he came across. But in that moment, his brain came to a complete stop. The single-minded focus that had time and time again helped him create so many incredible and life-saving inventions was now solely on you and the wonderous scene you had unwittingly created.

And if that wasn't enough to make him fall in love with you all over again, you then began to dance.

The song hit a mild break, with the drums and backup vocals taking over for the lead singer. The base of the song still rumbling on, she stood at the mic and encouraged anyone who wanted to to come to the open space in the middle of the pub and dance.

Seemingly without a second thought, you shot up and joined the few other people who had taken the singer up on the offer. Donnie jolted backwards at your quick movements, so lost in your song he hadn't even noticed what the lead singer had said. Still, his eyes tracked you as you hastily made your way to the center of the pub.

With the thumping rhythm of the drums as your background, you danced like nothing in the world could stop you. Shoes long ago abandoned, your bare feet slid and stomped on the floor. You spun, causing your layered skirts to flare out in a moment of untouched beauty and passion. A laugh sprung from your lips as you continued to twist around and fling your shirts haphazardly. Nothing had ever felt so freeing, so magical.

If Donnie had thought he was mesmerized before, he couldn't begin to comprehend what he was now. There was absolutely nothing that could take his eyes off of your constantly moving and shifting form. Your face was lit up in such pure and unadulterated joy as you continued to spin and twist and stomp along to the music. It was as if you were a fire finally set free, and Donnie would gladly burn to see but an ounce of your passion.

The lead singer joined back into the song, bringing it to its full intricate beauty once again. At the shift, you turned, eyes locking on Donnie's. Somehow, your smile widened as you nearly floated back to his side, hands outstretched in invitation.

"Come on, they don't call you Booty Shaker for nothing, do they?" you asked cheekily. Chest heaving and face already pink from exhilaration, you looked radiant in your bliss.

Donnie couldn't contain his laugh as he accepted your hands. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Hand in hand, you led him back to the where you had been dancing. He instantly took the lead, pushing you away from him and then back in with a flourishing spin. The two of you swept across the floor, stepping towards and away from each other as you dodged other couples and guests. Donnie felt light as air. Nothing had ever felt so natural as twisting and turning you around the space. He caught sight of your smile once more, a beaming look created by and for him and him alone, and his heart completely melted. There was nothing more freeing, more right than this.

The song built to its crescendo, and so did your movements. You both continued to blaze a path as you dipped and twirled your way to the center of the floor. Just as the song flourished to its conclusion, you ended up tucked into each others' arms, trying to catch your breaths as you came face to face with the other's matching grin. Around you, the gathered crowd cheered. Even the music group applauded your efforts. But it all might as well have been background noise. Donnie heard and saw nothing but you, breath heaving and laughter on your lips. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Shifting his hands from their hold on your frame, he reached up and cupped your cheeks, gently pulling you into a passionate kiss. You melted into him, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. When you finally pulled away, you didn't go far. Resting your foreheads together, you looked into each others' eyes and couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.

Maybe he could get into this ren faire thing after all.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Our Promise｡⋆.

Jason Todd x plus size reader

There are those in the world who are destined to be- through unimaginable challenges they will find each other, no matter what.

Warnings: tiny hint of star-crossed lovers, I made this long as hell for no reason other than i got really into it, fluff so much goddamn fluff, reader has shitty parents, mentions of convents and being sent away, references to pregnancy and sex, also Jason is totally a girl dad- fight me, some drinking

WC: 2.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You could safely categorise your life into three parts- when you met Jason Todd, the day you were reunited and the moment he made your life complete. You found him in the library on the border of Crime Alley when you were both barely 10, the starving little boy and the socialite-in-training. You both reached for the same copy of Jane Eyre but quickly threw yourselves apart the moment your fingers touched. His face blazed deep red under the smudge of dirt on his cheek and nose as you bashfully looked away.

There was a brief moment of silence as he took you in: perfectly clean and pressed pink dress with brand new black Mary Janes before he asked- “wanna share?” You sat side-by-side on one of the large bean bags in a quiet corner of the old building, taking turns reading aloud to each other before being kicked out by the ancient librarian well after closing.

You saw him every chance you could, sneaking away from your tutors just to join him on little adventures through Gotham or just reading together. Jason became your sanctuary, your escape from the cruel jabs of your mother and the cold shoulder from your father. He was the only one to make you smile, and dare you say it but the first boy you fell in love with (not that you could admit it even to yourself). 

Everything was great, for a while but all good things must come to an end. Your father had become suspicious of your continued absence from your vital lessons so he sent one of his many bodyguards to trail you for a while. You were found curled into Jason’s side as he attempted his hand at reading Shakespeare, of course failing horribly. You screamed and cried as the huge brute pulled you away from your only friend, shoving you into a huge black SUV as Jason screamed for you.

The last time you ever saw him was that day as he chased the car down the busy Gotham street before he was left in the dust as you sped off, his voice just barely carried on the wind, “I’ll find you!”. You would never forget the pure heartbreak that his blue eyes held as you were ripped away from him. It haunted you when you were forced onto a plane destined for France and each night you spent in that convent where you would spend all of your teenage years. 

You were shaped into the woman your parents wanted you to be. You were graceful, eloquent and intelligent, smart enough to navigate the intricacies of high society while hiding your true motives. And for that, you were granted a reprieve from the overbearing and downright cruel nuns who had controlled you for so long.

About a week after you turned 21, you were finally allowed to return home, of course under the condition that you were to be presented to the Gothamite society for possible suitors. And what better place to do that than an infamous Wayne gala. Dressed to the nines in a deep red velvet dress that hugged your generous curves like a second skin, you immediately drew everyone’s eyes. But you truly did not care, if it had been up to you, you would’ve been at home with a good book or even in some far off place after having faked your death.

Unfortunately, you were stuck here. So you decided to drink. Saddled up to the open bar, you sipped on the expensive whiskey that was provided by the generous mister Wayne and scanned the crowd. You knew the people your parents wished for you to marry- the uptight men and women who pretended to be good people while actively letting Gotham fall to ruins. 

The thought of being forced to marry anyone at this party made you feel physically ill. You glanced over your shoulder to where well-dressed waiters continuously streamed from a side hall. Maybe you could make a run for it if only someone would create a distraction.

“You know I take great offence when beautiful young women such as yourself aren’t having fun at a party in my home.” A large man slid up to the bar next to you. Dressed in a navy suit with his dark hair slicked back, eyes shining with a mischievous glint, you immediately knew who he was.

“I’m assuming you’re Richard Grayson.” You raised a brow at him and took a sip of your drink. He beamed at you, letting his gaze roam your body before meeting your eyes once again. He slid closer, his muscular body now mere inches from you. 

“Call me Dick. And who would I have the pleasure of spending this evening with?” You allowed him to take your left hand and lay a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your stomach still turned in disgust but less so than when the mayor’s son had attempted the same move a mere 15 minutes ago.

You gave him your name and suddenly Dick stiffened, his face paling. “Y/N Y/L/N? As in the only daughter of the Y/L/N family who’s been missing for the past decade?” 

“The one and only.” You responded with some confusion. Quickly, the eldest Wayne son straightened up, a kinder but somehow sadder smile growing on his face. A strong arm wrapped around your wide hips in a somehow friendly gesture and pulled the drink from your hand. 

“Then I have someone you just have to meet, plus it’ll get you out of this party.” You were wary, of course and evidently it showed on your face because Dick scrambled to ease your nerves. “Just trust me- I wouldn’t do this unless I really meant it. Besides, you can use that knife that’s strapped to your thigh on me if you need. I can see the outline of the hilt through your dress. You need to learn to hide it better.” He chuckled at your wide eyes, using your shock to quickly guide you from the huge ballroom and deeper into the bowels of the mansion.

Your high heels and his black dress shoes clacked against the dark hardwood in sync, the sound quickly drowning out the increasingly soft chattering of the gala attendants until all you could hear were your footsteps. Dick’s hand had now shifted to the small of your back, directing you through the empty halls and up a flight of stairs before reaching the only door with light streaming through the bottom.

He gave you a wink and knocked, opening the door before the occupant could answer. The room was childish, decorated in posters and tacked up photos. An old guitar sat in the far corner, almost entirely hidden by open cardboard boxes, all of which were half-full of trinkets that had only just been taken down from dusty shelves. A giant of a man sat on the double bed in the middle of the room, holding a worn book that had definitely seen better days.

He sighed heavily as Dick opened the door even further, gesturing for you to enter. “What part about ‘I don’t want to see your dumb fugly face until tomorrow’ didn’t you get?” You were ashamed to admit but the deepness and pitch of the mysterious man’s voice sent a flutter of arousal through your belly. Dick just huffed under his breath.

“Well I brought you a present so you’ll have to forgive me.” You sent a furious look his way, missing how the other man raised his head, his eyes settling on your figure. The mattress springs creaked, making your whip your head around.

He easily stood at a massive 6’6, towering over not only you but Dick as well. And with the addition of his whole body being practically made of muscles, he was terrifyingly huge. But you weren’t scared. 

You were frozen in place, stunned by the bright green eyes that started back at you in a way that felt so painfully familiar. “Y/N?”

“Jason?”

——————

It was surprisingly easy for your lives to mesh together again, especially since Jason somehow convinced your parents to let you move into your own apartment (you never wanted to know how exactly he accomplished that). But you never spent any time there- it was abandoned in favour of spending all your time in Wayne Manor, with Jason of course.

Your cheeks constantly ached from smiling and there seemed to be a permanent soreness in your ribs from how hard he made you laugh. Both of you were different, no longer the children you used to be but adults who had been shattered and glued back together so many times that you could no longer tell which parts of you remained unbroken, but you were together and that was more than enough.

You spent days just talking, huddled together on his bed, the large couch in the den and even the roof, although that stopped when Alfred found you one night and almost had a heart attack. And the days you didn’t or couldn’t talk, you would hold each other. Legs tangled and foreheads pressed so tightly together, your noses were squished. It was like you were physically glued together, unable to let go for the fear of losing each other again.

Even the both of you admitted that it was absolutely disgusting (which the rest of the Waynes wholeheartedly agreed with) but you were happy so what did it matter.

Sleep hovered on the edges of your vision as you snuggled further into the heated blanket around your shoulders. Unconsciously, your legs squeezed together as you got comfortable, your soft inner thighs pressing against the sides of Jason’s head. He grunted and assuming you squeezed him too tight, you tried to pull your legs up to fold them underneath you. He grabbed your shin with his right hand, only briefly letting go of the game controller, and forced the soft muscle back against his strong chest where your legs had been dangling. “Stop moving around. You’re supposed to be my pillow.” He mumbled.

You buried your hand in his back hair, scratching his scalp with your nails. “Sorry Jay.” He practically purred as he relaxed back into you, giving a sweet peck to the inside of your knee. The sounds from his video game started up again and your eyes fluttered shut. Just as you were being lulled to sleep by the repetitive sounds of fake gunfire and footsteps, another, much younger voice spoke up.

“I don’t get it.” Damian stood with his arms crossed right on the threshold of the room. His gaze firmly fixed on you and his brother, who sat on the floor in front of you, your legs thrown over his shoulders. “You both are so affectionate to each other and yet you are not a couple.” You just shrugged.

“Friends can be touchy and it’s still considered platonic.” You felt Jason nod against your leg.

“We’re best friends who both had a shitty upbringing. We’re obviously severely codependent so you might as well leave us alone cause it’s only gonna get worse from here.” His deep voice vibrated up the  length of your thigh and you had to make an effort not to squeeze his head once more although this time for a whole other reason.

Damian’s scowl darkened almost comically. “But won’t any partners you have take issue with that?” That made both of you pause. Ever since Jason had come back to you, you hadn’t even thought of anyone else. He consumed your entire being, not leaving space for anyone else. And you were just fine with that but what if Jason didn’t feel the same? Could you deal with another woman in his life?

Your stomach churned at the thought of his arm around someone else’s shoulder, of his lips on their skin, of him sleeping with them. Unbeknownst to you, the man nestled between your legs was having the same thoughts.

His eyes quickly grew dark with a burning fury. Without a word, he threw your legs from his broad shoulders and stood up. He shot Damian a withering look as he strode from the room, leaving you both in confused silence. You glanced at the tween but he held no answers. Before you could get up to follow your friend, he returned.

“Jason?” He grabbed your hands and tugged you violently to your feet. Jason smirked at you with a wink, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Observe demon spawn.” And then suddenly, he was on one knee, holding a ring. It was simple- a gold band with a singular teardrop stone in the centre. The band was scratched and the diamond didn’t shine, worn down with age but none of that mattered because the man you loved more than anything, your soulmate, your best friend was offering it to you with the most gentle smile you had ever seen. The same smile he gave you in that decrepit library so long ago.

He didn’t even have to ask. “Yeah?” He gestured to the ring. You giggled through the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nodded and held out your left hand, allowing him to slip the perfectly sized ring onto your finger. Jason sprung to his feet, immediately taking your face into his large hands. There was a moment where your eyes met and then he kissed you.

Stars exploded around you as the kiss slowly deepened. Jason’s hands moved to your wide hips, tugging you even closer.

“What the hell kind of proposal was that?!” Startled, you jumped apart like caught teens, only to be greeted with the sight of his whole family in absolute hysterics. Tim was obviously the one that yelled given his red face and clearly exacerbated expression. 

The others were stunned into silence save for Bruce who was quietly sniffling into a handkerchief. You and your fiancé glanced at each other, unable to hold back your smiles.

“I had to make sure that she was my best friend forever.”

——————

The last coat of house paint was drying quickly in the hot August sun, giving Jason a chance to sit in the shade of the huge Oak tree in the backyard. The ground vibrated beneath him as he collapsed onto the cool grass, his head falling back against the trunk.

He groaned as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. The renovations to the house were coming along slowly but Jason couldn’t be mad about it considering it was mostly his fault. “Daddy!” A blur of blue slammed into his chest, briefly knocking the wind from his lungs. There was the reason for the delay in renovations.

“Well hello miss Jane! How was your nap?” Eyes identical to his own looked up at him, sparkling with newfound energy. Her dark blue smock dress (the exact colour of uncle Dickie's uniform) floated around her legs as he planted herself on his thighs.

“Was good! Mama let me sleep in the big bed!” Jason smoothed down her black hair which was still mussed from sleep, smiling softly at his 4 year old.

“She was a very good girl, helping me with making her daddy a special drink and feeding the baby.” You practically glided over the lawn, still glowing from pregnancy even though Elizabeth was now three months old. You held a large glass of cold lemonade in your left hand, making your wedding bands glint beautifully in the sun.

Lizzie was dead asleep in the sling across your chest, making Jason’s heart clench with fondness. He took the drink from you, taking a big sip and just barely suppressing a cough. Evidently you had added something a little extra to his as a treat. “Thank you pretty girl.” He managed to get out through the burning in his throat. 

You smirked evilly at him as you pressed a kiss to your baby’s head. “You’re welcome daddy!” She giggled and slid from his lap so she could bolt over to the play structure he had built for her birthday. Jason watched her run off before turning to you.

“You are in for it Mrs Todd.” He growled playfully, his hand curling around your ankle.

“Well then it’s a good thing that the kids are having a sleepover with grandpa B and uncle Dami tonight isn’t it?” You beamed, running your hand through his hair. Your husband nuzzled into your touch, soaking up all the affection you were offering.

Jason Todd was your promise, your life, your everything.

Request: Jason Todd x chubby reader where they’ve been best friend before he was adopted by Bruce but lost contact because he couldn’t find her . One day he came across her again and promised to not let her go so he’s been clinging to her almost all the time, and whenever she hangs out at the manner with his brothers he’s not ashamed to be close to her, putting his head on her lap, or even sitting down in front of her with her legs open as he laid to her front while playing video games with his brothers. His brothers wouldn’t dare to teased him anymore because once they did it, Jason just didn’t care and continued cling to her. One day Damian said something like “they’re acting like a couple but they’re just friends, and it’s absurd” then Jason just casually asked if she would like to be his best friend forever and pulling out a ring which God know how long does he kept it for and everybody in the manor were just too stunned to react as reader teared up and said yes softly. Then Jason kissed her for the first time “Damn, I could do this every day.” “Now we’re best friend forever, you cannot leave me” and started to randomly being cute (as always when he is with her) planning to move to their own house, and telling her how many children does she want and just being cute imagining many little mini me(s). @wittysunflower

DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @km-ffluv

DC

@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @Blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8

Jason Todd

@jason-todds-bitch @honkytonkbabe @nini-trash-forever @itsbqueenthings @batmaninamaiddress @getoutofthere @theweepingvulcan91 @luvvvjada @im-a-satanic-ritual @m0nster-fvcker @rosalietodd013 @onlystarshere @stabmemaybe @beautyb1ade @star-dusst @aleck-cross @ambassadortotrilliusprime @originalsourpatch @oxymorondemon @n3muru

[gabessquishytum]

Hob does cosplay at the conventions he attends. He's done a lot of popular fandoms and has become semi-internet famous for how good his cosplays are. He's never charged for a photo or done it professionally. It's just his hobby.

Dream is a photographer. He attends a lot of cons to snap professional pictures of the panels and is often just there to make some cash. Not that he doesn't have an interest in fandom. He just believes that a piece of media and your reaction to that media is personal. He has to really really enjoy something to get into the fandom of that thing.

They meet while Dream is taking a smoke break in between panels. Hob was trying to escape a rather touchy fan threatening to ruin his delicate costume. They chat and hit it off, Hob invites him to a room party after the con. They fuck and life goes on.

Until the next convention, some anime festival that's big for their neck of the woods. The pay is great and Dream gets to sit in on a screening of a rather obscure Japanese film that's just now being subbed. He also runs into Hob there, he's dressed as Tuxedo Mask and has drawn in a lot of Sailor Scouts who want photos with him and the real roses he's been carrying around to give to all the Usagi cosplayers.

They meet again during a smoke break and once again Hob invites him up to his room. Rinse and repeat.

But now Dream is kinda obsessed? Hob is a very good lay and a wonderful conversation partner. But alas, Hob never gave him his socials or his number. They haven't even exchanged names.

The next big con happening is Star Trek. Brent Spiner and Micheal Dorn are gonna be there, it's great. Unfortunately there's no need for Dream to attend bc they didn't hire him. They hired someone a bit cheaper than he is. There's also a massive wedding he's been approached to shoot and the money is too good to pass up.

Dream comes to the con dressed in some cheap Amazon knock-off Starfleet uniform and goes looking for his man. He finds Hob talking with John De Lancie while dressed as Judge Q. He approaches and attempts to talk to Hob, who brings up his shitty costume. Dream feels a bit self conscious about this until Hob invites him back to his room. After all he has a few costumes Dream can use <3

- 🤜 anon

Omg cosplayer Hob 🥵 I immediately imagined him as Toji from jjk (with a big plushie worm cursed spirit) and I don't think I'll ever recover from the hotness.

Dream is genuinely obsessed with this funny, beautiful, talented man. And yes, he did stalk Hob online a little bit, ok. He may have watched one (or a thousand) of his tiktoks. But he doesn't have the courage to message Hob outside of their lil meet up and fuck routine. He'd die inside if Hob didn't message him back! Meeting him in person is somehow less intimidating - maybe because he can see Hob's kind, smiling face.

And holy fuck, he's glad that he went to that Star Trek con. Hob practically drags him back to his room and they barely even make it to the bed. Hob tears the shitty uniform apart (rip, it served him well) and ravishes Dream, almost like he's been thinking about Dream every day since they last met up... he eventually confesses after fucking Dream to the point of seeing stars, that he found Dream’s website and details online but felt too shy to reach out to him...

Dream just has to roll Hob over and eat him out until he cries. He's too happy and delighted to do anything else!

A few months later they hit up a big con together, dressed as Aziraphale and Crowley. Hob made their costumes and all the accessories and Dream spends the whole day taking pics of his boyfriend and telling everyone how talented Hob is <3

[aclowntiny]

May the Flirts Be With You- Seonghwa x Female!Cosplayer!Reader

It adds years to my life as a massive Star Wars nerd that a member of one of my ult groups is one too 🫶🏻 him making a May the 4th post = instant serotonin. It's 3 weeks late, but here's a corny little fun post for SW Day 😁

Word Count: 2394 | Conventions, Nerds to Lovers lmao, that trope I've accidentally created where Yeosang plays cupid | Warnings: the con is really generic because I didn't want to rip anything real off too much & have it be something they couldn't go to lmao, plus that way I could make other popular sci-fi references >:3

“Isn’t the cloak a bit much?”

"Come on," Seonghwa half-jokingly whined, "you said you were going to appreciate everything."

Yeosang had joined him at a sci-fi convention, something Seonghwa had always dreamed of attending. Artists sat at tables showing their amazing creations, groups of friends and family took pictures with signs and props, and of course the place was flooded with cosplayers and merch. They'd even passed by the 501st Legion.

"I do," Yeosang assured him, nodding towards an artist table stocked with hyperrealistic head sketches of the classic Star Trek cast, "like look at those. I don't even watch the show and I kind of want one."

"That's why they say these cons are so expensive, like look over there!" Seonghwa pointed eyes widening. "There's a guy selling discontinued Star Wars lego sets!"

"Oh, boy," Yeosang muttered, but with a smile as his hyung dragged him over to the man's table, where he started eagerly digging in, that childlike wonder Yeosang knew so well starring his eyes.

"This is a fun little ship," Yeosang commented, picking up a small packet, "I like the yellow."

Seonghwa turned, then gave a nod. "The Naboo Starfighter! That is cute, you should get it for your shelf."

"You know what, maybe I will."

"That's the spirit! As for me, I'm between the AT-TE and the TIE Advanced set."

"Go with the cheaper one."

Seonghwa stuck his tongue out at Yeosang, who mirrored the gesture, then giggled in spite of himself. He wasn't the only one who made the sound, though; Seonghwa swiveled around, ready to greet another lego enthusiast, but what he saw had his fingers involuntarily loosening, almost sending the (slightly overpriced, in his opinion) AT-TE set tumbling back onto the red-and-black tablecloth.

It was a girl, a young woman about his age, dressed head-to-toe in a perfect Princess Leia cosplay. And not the classic white outfit, but the Bespin gown and cape.

You made the red outfit look classically beautiful, and whether it was all your hair or some sort of wig or extensions, you'd braided it just right, the loops falling back and at each side of your face, which was focused on Seonghwa with a smile.

"Oh, sorry, you two were just funny. You look like a Jedi and his padawan having a spat."

Seonghwa tore his eyes off of you long enough to regard Yeosang. "I told you I looked like a Jedi!"

"You sure do," you added, tilting your head toward the boxes in his hands, "what are you looking at getting there?"

Seonghwa shakily lowered the AT-TE back to the table. "Oh, well, I think I'm going with the TIE Advanced set."

"Good choice," you loudly whispered, leaning a bit closer, "355 to that one's 794. A little under half the pieces, but a quarter of the price."

"That's what I thought, like the TIE is way more iconic too, sorry Battle of Utapau."

"Yeah, I'm more into the OG movies myself."

He nodded toward your cosplay. "I see that. Did you make that yourself, or buy the pieces?"

"Oh, no, I made this."

Seonghwa feels his jaw drop, warmth pooling in his chest at the way you giggle again, this time at his expression, which rises from shock to a wide, awed grin. "You- you really? How do you do it? How long does it take? One of my roommates just customizes regular clothes and it seems like he can spend hours."

"Oh, yeah, hours is about right," you chuckle, "but it feels like the hardest part is finding the right fabrics sometimes, like these thicker ones aren't at every fabric store."

"Yeah, you really sound like my friend," Seonghwa jokes, "but you look way better."

He flushes the moment the words leave his mouth, immediately stuttering backtracks. "Well, um, that is, I mean, he doesn't do cosplay, more just like paint and cutting stuff up and-"

"Don't worry, you wouldn't believe how many creeps have told me I should have gone with the slave look," your voice cuts into his ramble, "I'm not offended. I actually appreciate it, um...what was your name again?"

"Oh," he lit up, "Seonghwa. This is my first convention."

Introducing yourself, you smiled and waved a hand at the legos he paused the conversation to purchase. "And it looks like you're getting something out of it already."

"More clutter for his room," Yeosang supplied.

You laughed. "You don't want to see mine, then. Besides, I can't help but notice you bought a ship too."

"A tiny one!" Yeosang sheepishly defended himself, quickly laughing at the m-hm sound you made.

"That's how it starts. Get him addicted, Seonghwa."

He nodded. "I'm trying."

"That's the spirit," you said with a mischievous grin.

Seonghwa nodded, then felt his eyes start to lose focus from looking at your own. "Er, well, we'll see you around, (y/n)!" He waved, starting to turn and walk away with Yeosang, who immediately shoved him.

"Whoa, what's that for?"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting back to the convention?"

"Don't you think you should talk to her?"

"What, and follow her around like a weirdo?"

"No," Yeosang fought, "invite her to go check out the voice acting stall or build your legos together or at least just take a picture with her to remember her by if you're too scared to do anything else."

Seonghwa frowned slightly. "I'm not scared."

"Ok," his long-haired friend shrugged, "then prove it."

"I will," he said with a satisfied smile as he turned on his heels, heading back for you.

"Oh, hey, (y/n)?"

You turned around too, white cape billowing around you like angel wings. He swallowed, trying not to stare too hard.

"Can we take a picture? I- I haven't really gotten many pictures with cosplayers, and-"

"Sure!" Smiling brightly, you accepted his proffered phone, taking a couple selfies that left Seonghwa feeling like a boiled lobster, he must be so red. He wasn't expecting you to put your arm around him, but he sure wouldn't complain, either. You also had Yeosang take a few head-to-toe ones so you could see your full outfits and the poses you guys did.

By the time you were done, you both were laughing, especially at one selfie you caught of all three of you where both you and Seonghwa posed and Yeosang just had the most confused expression. In another, you reached behind you to the book stall, each picking one up to pretend to read. Seonghwa made a shocked face at James Luceno's Tarkin, Yeosang mimed intense focus on Timothy Zahn's The Icarus Hunt, and you pretended to laugh at the bowl of petunias in Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

"Well, thanks!" Seonghwa exclaimed after your photoshoot, trailing off before Yeosang elbowed him from behind. "Er, well, I was wondering if you are on any social media for your cosplays?"

"Yup," you nodded, closing out your Photos app with a smile at all the new shots of you guys that had been added to your phone and sliding over to instagram, "Here's where I post a lot of my photos, but if you want to see anything more in-depth or show your fashion designing friend, I can give you my youtube."

Wow... "You have a cosplay youtube? That's so cool! I bet it's a lot of fun!"

"Sure, it's where I track progress, share my processes, and do hauls and stuff too. Oh, and these guys," you shook the box of lego you'd bought at the stall that introduced you, "will get built on there, too. Hey, would you wanna be in a video?"

This time, no elbowing was required. "On your channel? Yes, of course! We could build our legos," Seonghwa replied, feeling excitement rush to his face as he strolled past a life-size Dalek, fingers reaching out to gently brush the smooth dome atop the metal structure.

"For one, yes," you said, a hand reaching up to straighten your Leia braids, "but how would you feel about modeling a legit cosplay?"

His eyes flew open. "You'd make me a whole outfit?"

"Well, I need practice doing men's fits too," you giggled, swerving around a couple dressed as Zoë and Wash from Firefly, "and you have, like, perfect proportions."

Seonghwa's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he didn't know what to say to that. You didn't say any more, either, your interest suddenly captured by a stall selling Padme-inspired jewelry, including one thick silver choker that honestly captured Seonghwa's eyes too...

"So, uh, would you be interested?" You glanced back and forth between the stall and Seonghwa, the way your eyes peered up at him involuntarily raising the corners of his lips.

"As long as my outfit is as pretty as yours."

~

"Everyone's commenting asking if you're a professional model," you giggle at Seonghwa, glancing up at your phone as you hand him the bright orange brick separator.

He pries apart two misplaced lego pieces before meeting your eyes. "Me?"

"Yes, you," you fire back, closing your phone and leaning a bit closer, scanning first Seonghwa's progress, then his face, "have you seen yourself?"

Heat creeps back into his cheeks. "Yes, but I've seen you, too, so I know they should be asking that about you, not me."

"Wow, that was really smooth. No wonder I dressed you up as Lando," you grin, resting your chin on your hand.

Seonghwa just gazed into your eyes with a fond smile. That had been a long, but amazing, process as you got measurements, pinned him still until he was stiff all over, but put hours of work into detailing a masterpiece, complete with a cape of his very own. All the standing around was so worth it to feel the way your hands gently grazed his sides, to hear you laugh at his little comments and even feel it against his neck when you were working on his shoulders, to always make sure you were stopping to take care of yourself, too, and hear how grateful you were when he reminded you you were doing amazing, no need to push yourself. Watching the transformation, your busy hands at work, getting to embody a piece of the universe he loved so much, all of it made for some of the best weeks Seonghwa had had in a long time.

"That was fun," he commented, attaching two more pieces to the wing of the ship he was building.

"Yeah," you agreed, "especially when you almost kissed me."

Seonghwa reddened, stiffening and lowering the wing in his hand slightly.

It had happened one of the last times you'd met up when you were attaching his cape, hands on his shoulders. He'd relaxed too much, falling into watching you work with dazed eyes, dreaming of leaning in, and then you pulled a little too hard, sending him surging forward, his face almost crashing into yours. He'd managed to catch himself just in time and you'd edited that part out of the fitting video of course, but that moment, your awkward but thrilling almost-kiss, had been living rent-free in Seonghwa's mind ever since then. A part of him wished he'd just managed to fall all the way, but that also wasn't how he wanted your first kiss to go. If you liked him back, which Yeosang and Hongjoong insisted you did. Hongjoong had even taken to texting him 'May the flirts be with you' before he went to your studio, which strangely had encouraged him on a couple occasions to just say the compliment or to brush your hands a little when he handed you supplies or made sure you had water.

"I'm so sorry about that, I really was just clumsy and-"

"It's all right," you smirked faintly, putting the constructed cockpit in your hands down, "I was ready for it."

Seonghwa's brows furrowed as he fully set the wing down. "You... you..."

"Wait, I'm sorry, did I read things wrong? I thought we were flirting. But if not, I'm so sorry! I'm not good at this," you confessed, "you know what they say about nerds and all."

Any and all dissatisfaction about Hongjoong being right dissipated into the great sparkly abyss of joy rising and thudding out of Seonghwa's chest because holy cow, the super cool girl who makes Star Wars outfits and builds lego with him and doesn't laugh at his ASMR is interested in them? Sure, let him and Yeosang rub it in Seonghwa's face. He'd endure anything if it meant getting closer to you.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, either," he chuckled, grin widening by the second, "but yes, I was. My roommate even started texting me to hype me up before I visited you, look!"

He showed you the text, which was followed by a gif of Han Solo and a whole bunch of teasing ㅋㅋㅋㅋ.

"I was worried you were going to see all the youtube comments teasing me about my obvious crush on you or how cute we were together!"

His eyes widened again. "So you have an obvious crush on me?"

"Seonghwa," you folded your arms, "you don't exactly want someone to kiss you because they're like a brother to you."

"Right, right, sorry, it's just so hard to believe a real-life space princess like you is interested in a lowly smuggler like myself."

"Ok," you snorted, "that was corny."

"I was trying to be corny."

"Good," you tease, leaning in closer until your nose is almost brushing his, "I like corny."

"That's why you like Attack of the Clones. It's the dialogue."

"It's the childhood appeal and you know it! I always say they got a little confident in their millions with some of the writing, but something in it really captured a youth vibe. It's like what they did in Twilight, but better because of the rest of the worlds happening around it-" You rambled, distracted by Seonghwa's claim.

Seonghwa, meanwhile, could only stare at your animated gesticulating and think how you're most definitely the girl of his dreams. "Ok, seriously, please kiss me."

“Alright, but we’re definitely doing the cape yank next time,” you comment as you lean in, letting Seonghwa take one of your hands, the other pulling you in softly by your cheek until your lips met.