#they’re so perfectly imperfect

[violetpixiedust]

something sweet for sydcarmy that i couldn’t get out of my head

the rigid slope of his sun-kissed nose bloomed a vibrant scarlet as it brushed against the ebony complexion of her petal soft cheek. the delicate curvature of her face was reminiscent of the stained glass cherubs that danced across the evanescent sunlight when it seeped into his weekly aa meetings, undeniably gentle, radiant. honey-suckle curls drooped down to meet hip length braids, framing the divine structure of her body below him, laid atop his rustled sheets.

the pair was askew, tangled, dewey with a veil of essence akin to the first morning fire ups at the bear. a husky moan left his cupid’s bow shaped lips, as manicured nails ran down the flushed expanse of muscle peaking through his rare pristine white tee. one calloused hand urgently pushed the hem of her tight red turtleneck up below her concealed mounds, fingers twitching against her unconsciously arched ribs. the other wandered below the little charcoal skirt that had taunted him endlessly during their menu experimentation in his minuscule kitchen that day. barely exposing a flash of ivory each time she whipped around to fetch a knife, paprika, salt, a clove of garlic that had ‘slipped’ off his counter top. a pretty little outfit he knew the woman in front of him wouldn’t be caught dead wearing around the likes of richie, marcus, gary, fak, even ebra- a soprano moan cut off his possessive train of thought, hyperactive mind practically melting into oblivion as his warm lips frantically kissed the exposed underside of her jaw, basking in her light scent of lavender soap and lilies. desperate to claim, claim, claim-

“carmy-“ his denim clad hips unconsciously ground down into hers at the crack of her voice, the sound of his name leaving her mouth like a prayer. the ribbons of their desperate moans intertwined in spite of the ache that pounded down the doors they had once desperately attempted to seal shut.

“syd. oh fuck. fuck! please-“ the wetness that had previously concealed his hazy cobalt gaze trickled down his freckled cheeks, staccato groans swallowed by her plump pout that had been decorated with brunette lip gloss, now smeared across his cheek.

“c-an i-i take this off-?” carmen shuddered as she raked her nails through his dampening curls, waiting not a second after her confirmation to tug the poor excuse of a garment down her sinfully bare legs, leaving a burning trail in its wake. carmen felt his heartbeat pound in his ears, the once dreaded feeling akin to his panic attacks now fuelled by unbridled desire, urging him forward as he marvelled at the sight of the younger girl in front of him. shell shocked as the quick absence of her shirt revealed a lacy lingerie set, ivory, scraps of fabric reminiscent of lacy chef whites barely concealing the most intimate parts of her. transparent enough that he could make out the dusky shade of her nipples through the wispy fabric, her sticky mound. it tumbled out of his mouth before he had the chance to bite it back.

“god, i love you.” and he would have been mortified, hightailing it out of his own apartment to avoid the sight of his sous leaving the bed of her pathetic loser of a boss- had the girl not taken charge, straddling him in under a few moments, fingers encircling his golden chain to hold him steady, as her lips slammed against his in a teeth clashing kiss, a valiant effort in pushing down what apologies would have inevitably come up. her tongue was doused in lambrusco, spurring carmy on as his tattooed arms pulled her impossibly closer to him. desperate to memorize the scent of her, the silhouette of her, the taste of her, before he faced the consequences of his confession. he only went slack when she finally breathed shakily in his ear, hushed, as if she was telling him a secret, missing the glimmering onyx of her doe-eyes as they softened incredibly at the very sight of him.

“love you too, chef.”

[elizabeth-dicewielder]

Putting the word toxic, especially the phrase toxic yuri, up on the shelf until some of y’all learn how to use it properly

[xazse]

new to your account but I've been reading you works ALL DAY. Can I req a wanderer/scaramouche x fem reader fic, reader was being attacked by hillicurls in the rain, scaramouche helps reader and let's you into the tent hes staying in.. because rain lol. Anyways he's h0rny and expecting repayment for saving you. He's very rough w reader lol. Sorry if this sounds stupid, I've never made a req before.

LOST?

Synopsis: When you’re saved by a man in inazuma attire you can’t help but be interested in his offer.

Notes: THANK YOU FOR BINGEING MY WORKS IT MEANS A LOT!! Also it’s not stupid at all you explained it perfectly! I HOPE YOU ENJOY<33 plus I decided to turn this into a little ficlet it’s such a good prompt thank ya.

Pairings: Scaramouche x Fem!reader

Warnings: Scummy!Scaramouche + bargains + smut + armlocking + female reader

Slimy, that’s exactly how you feel right now, these damn hillicurls have been following you for god knows how long. You’d thought the rain would’ve rid them of your scent but they’re extremely president, especially the Mitachurl.

You could easily take them down but not when they’re in a group like that, something’s making them group together in larger packs than before.

All you can do is run as fast as you can through this thick mud while they gain on you., you’re such an idiot for taking this request from the guild, they even warned you but you just had to be cock. You’re so deep in thought that you don’t see it: a hole in the ground, you’re tripping and falling stomach down onto the ground. The monsters run with this opportunity and you’re being pulled by your ankle into the air.

Quickly taking out your pole-arm from it’s confines, you strike the arm that grabbed you, the monster wretches in pain and drops you flat on your ass but that makes space for the others to start tearing at you it’s not before you see a bloom of air that the monsters suddenly aren’t in front of you anymore?

Looking to where it came from you see a man looking in your direction with the utmost disappointment and disgust on his face.

“You couldn’t handle a couple of lackeys? Why were you bestowed a vision then?”

“It’s kinda hard when it’s a group of them.” You deadpan

“Am I sensing attitude? From your savior at that.” He continues “I didn’t have to come to your screams, I could’ve let you die.”

“Screams? Whom?” You glance down at your body, you’re extremely dirty and the rain is only getting heavier.

“Thank you though, I appreciate the help.”

You stand carefully as much as the slippery ground will allow you.

He watches as you make your way to wherever, you only get five steps away before slipping on your ass. You’re being picked up by your armpits: such a small man has the strength to lift you like you weigh nothing?

“You can come to my little hideout, it’s dry and I can provide you with other clothing” he doesn’t allow you to answer, he’s already slinging your arm around his shoulder and taking you. You can only whisper another thank you.

As he takes you, you’re quick to see how pretty he is, there’s no imperfections in his face, it’s as smooth and pale as the day he was born most likely.

He looks at you, caught staring at him you quickly snap forward. He scoffs.

His tent is pretty spacious definitely fits holding up to three people, it feels much better to be in a warmer place than the cold hard rain. You realize after a few minutes inside that your clothes are sticking to you, you want out so badly.

“Could I have those clothes you mentioned?”

He raises his brow, dick.

“Please.”

“Of course you can.” There’s a smug smile on his face whilst he says that, he rummages around in a chest before throwing a large shirt your way and some equally big pants, you won’t ask why he has clothing that doesn’t look like it fits him.

You’re about to lift up your shirt before you realize that this is a man, a man you don’t know no less, he’s staring at you with a bored expression.

He meets your eye and gets the memo to turn around.

At least he’s respectful.

You lift the soggy shirt over your head, it hits the ground with a splat. Your bra is soaked as well, as much as you’d like to keep it on it has to come off, you reach around and to unclip it at least you try to, finding that it doesn’t budge. A few more frustrating attempts you cave and ask the man.

“Hey, uhm-“

“Scaramouche.”

“Scaramouche- could you help me for a moment?” You give him your permission to look and he makes his way over to a kneeling you. He seems confused but you guide him to unlock the tricky thing and with that it comes off, you catch your boobs and cover yourself.

Scaramouche thinks you have a nice back, and he liked helping you with that little bit. He doesn’t engage in conversation with women expect for the lumine woman, this is rare.

He also feels weird, weirdly uncomfortable, glancing down he can see he’s actually fully hard. Curse these male bodies and their weird maley functions. Why is something as small as this making his pants tighter and his cock throb. He thinks a little more, why does he feel uncomfortable in fact he feels owed?

You do someone a favor aren’t they supposed to do one for you as well? That’s how human customs are as far as he’s concerned. He’s now sometimes glancing at you: you’re working to get your pants off.

“I can feel your stare, what?” You question while looking at him in your panties at least they didn’t get wet.

“mm, nothing important, seeing as how you were in that type of weather you were doing some kind of mission? Request? So I’m gonna put two and two together and say you don’t have any mora on you.”

He continues

“There’s no possible way for you to pay me money wise-“

You interrupt him: “you didn’t save me out of the kindness of your own heart?”

“What- no? Of course not” he chuckles at that inquiry.

“Okayyy… what is it that you want?”

He doesn’t even have to say it, his eyes are already roaming your body.

“I’ve always been curious about you women and how you work.” he removes his hat and relaxes his body a little on the futon.

You women? He talks funny but besides that is he expecting you to give him your body? Having sex with a stranger isn’t on your bingo card.

But you also like being dealt wild cards, he isn’t ugly by any means. Your eyes slide to where he’s relaxed and see he isn’t afraid to hide how hard he is, heat rises within in your body: he’s hard because of you.

When the words “yes” had came out of your mouth he was fast to pin you down, using his rough grip to have you face down and ass up.

His hands are clumsy but that’s because he’s so eager to see all of you on display, when he’s face to face with your cunt he loses all body function, he’s quiet as he pokes and prods at your wetfolds, he’s so amazed that every time he licks his fingers clean that dipping right back in your wet hole produces even more slick.

He loves this, he takes his cock out of its tight confines. It’s leaking and a cute pink color. He doesn’t let you admire it for long, he needs to be buried in you immediately and that he does.

He lines his weeping tip up with your hole, the stretch of him is uncomfortable but definitely not unwarranted.

A screamish moan slips from your lips, he slammed his entire cock right to the hilt and holds himself there.

“Feels- oh..” he locks your arms behind your back, then you feel his cock leaving your sensitive walls just to feel him slam down inside you all over again. He fucking dies for the view, your pretty ass is bouncing right off his abdomen like it’s stuck in a loop.

“Ah..fuck- please slow-“ it’s so hard to talk coherently, it’s also getting hard for you to think.

As fast as he’s going your nipples are following, you know they’re gonna be incredibly sensitive to the touch, but it feels so good in the moment, that paired with his cock moving alongside your gummy walls is a killer combo. You’re being used like a mere sex toy.

You don’t comprehend that you’re convulsing and squeezing his cock, it’s not until he moans and laughs at how fast he’s made you cum that you realize.

For his first time too? He’s swooning and already praising himself.

You grip the tent floor in an effort to get away from the overstimulation but he’s pulling you right back on his thick cock.

Scaramouche is infatuated, his balls are heavy and dripping with your slick, you’ve got the audacity to run from him? He’s loving your pussy and you want to deny him of it? He just can’t have that!

He’s gonna milk you dry and after he’s done with that he’s gonna make sure to take care of himself.

[daylighteclipsed]

Your KH Enchanted posts are driving me INSANE! I've never thought about the connection before but like, Enchanted is literally about a cartoon character going to the real world and finding out that her designated "perfect" love interest wasn't actually the one for her despite the fact that he should be. And then cut to SORA WAKING UP IN QUADRATUM AND RIKU THERE LOOKING FOR HIM like... it's all coming together.

YES!!!! There are so many parallels. In Sora’s dreams, the way he and Riku wake up in this huge city at night with so many lights and signs and skyscrapers… it’s so much like Giselle pulling herself up into the center of Times Square. The area Sora’s in especially, Scramble Crossing, brings to mind Times Square.

Enchanted is about a fictional character becoming real. Giselle’s from a simple, “perfect,” fairytale world. She’s designed to be a stereotypical Disney princess, and she’s a trope more than a person until she ends up in the real world, where she’s quickly challenged by the real world’s imperfections and complexities, embodied especially in Robert and through her relationship with him.

I’ve talked before about how Kingdom Hearts features fictional characters waking up and coming to life, deviating from the script when they’re not really “supposed” to and becoming real. Like Giselle, Sora starts out as a pretty stereotypical trope — the hero — but over the course of his journey grows further away from that. He’s challenged and he changes, and a lot of that is embodied through his relationship with Riku, as Riku represents change and complexity, especially in the context of growing up.

There’s a lot of parallels in the dynamics between Giselle/Robert and Sora/Riku. They’re complementary opposites, and they learn from each other. Giselle inspires Robert to believe in the messages fairytales champion about kindness, the power of love, dreams coming true, and happy endings. Sora inspires Riku to follow his heart and open his heart to others. Robert helps Giselle understand that real life is not as simple as a fairytale. Riku helps Sora see and understand the nuances in their world and in each other.

Real people are complicated, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Giselle’s thrilled, for example, the first time she feels really, truly angry. Robert makes her feel things she’s never felt before, messy things that make her feel alive, that make it easier for her to understand him and grow closer to him. KH emphasizes that experiencing grief, sadness, anger, etc. allows us to connect with others deeper, whether we’re leaning on loved ones for support or trying to understand a stranger. Pain is a necessary part of having a heart, of being alive.

Also, these scenes are literally the same. Giselle and Sora even both smile in their sleep.

Giselle/Robert and Sora/Riku’s relationships develop significantly over the course of their stories. In comparison to Giselle/Edward and Sora/Kairi, which rely on trope expectations instead of character development/actual relationship building. Giselle hardly interacts with Edward. But he’s a prince, he resembles the man of her dreams, he saves her from falling, and she can finish his duet. Surely it’s true love! I’ve already compared sharing the paopu fruit with singing the duet. Kairi is also a princess. She saves Sora from falling to darkness in KH1. And it’s pretty and perfect and Disney, with him reappearing in her arms, gently pulling away, quietly thanking her with sparkles all around them. Just like how Edward catches Giselle right in his lap, perfectly in his arms, with the tree branches forming a heart behind them.

Compare that to later in DDD after Riku saves Sora from falling to darkness and Sora thanks him… and when Robert catches Giselle from falling off a billboard. It’s the same thing, but the moments are not pretty and perfect.

Giselle takes Robert to the hard ground, with a chorus of yelps and ouches as she nearly breaks his wrists. Riku is almost bowled over by Sora’s hug, and Sora holds him tightly, loudly exclaiming his relief, reluctant to let Riku go. But the lack of “Disney fairytale perfection,” I guess, in these scenes kind of makes them better, right? Robert is willing to get really hurt trying to catch Giselle. Sora is so happy to see Riku he can’t contain his emotions. Near the end of Enchanted, we see this again, except Giselle is the one catching Robert. And it’s still very clumsy and rough — he takes her down with him. It’s not perfect, but it’s real.

That’s the biggest difference between Giselle’s relationships with Edward and Robert, and Sora’s relationships with Kairi and Riku. In both surface dynamics and appearance, one is a pretty idea. A perfect, soft, simple fantasy that doesn’t exist, that can’t exist in reality beyond little boys and girls playing Prince and Princess. And the other is grounded in reality, with all the good and bad, the joy and heartbreak, laughter and tears, that entails. Being human is hard. But there is something magical about finding someone you can be human with.

Giselle mistakes Edward for the true love she’s been dreaming of. He’s got the blue eyes and the dark hair, and he catches her from falling. And it reminds me a lot of Sora mistaking Kairi for his light in the darkness in KH3.

It’s reasonable why Giselle and Sora would assume this… But Robert also catches Giselle from falling. He also has blue eyes and dark hair. Later, he dresses exactly like Giselle’s dream prince at the ball, and he even dances with her like in her dreams. In KH3, Riku sacrifices himself in an act of true love for Sora, and we see the light in the tunnel respond when Sora calls out Riku’s name. There’s a number of visual parallels from Sora’s dream and Dive to the Heart that indicate Riku is Sora’s light. While Giselle realizes the truth, it only seems to click for Sora a moment before he forgets. Giselle also gets a follow up parallel. Sora hasn’t yet.

Another little thing I want to point out — Giselle and Edward have a duet (that she stops singing), but Giselle and Robert have a waltz. They have the love song, and they dance to it. Sora and Riku don’t dance, but we see their hearts dancing to the song they create — a waltz version of Dearly Beloved.

Also Robert/Giselle still get the Disney singing element. It’s just not big and flashy like Giselle and Edward’s duet. Robert quietly sings a few words to her as they dance together… Sora and Riku still get the paopu fruit — it’s the keychain of Dearly Beloved (the Combined Keyblade) — but it’s not obvious like the cave drawing between Sora and Kairi is.

TLDR: I completely agree with you and I think, like Enchanted, KH intentionally plays with Disney tropes and audience expectations in order to subvert them. Like Giselle, Sora discovering his designated “perfect” love interest is not the one for him is part of his journey of awakening. It’s part of him becoming real, and growing up.

[bookwormjust]

Altered self-image (established relationship, Cassian’s mate)

You sat at the dining table, poking at the food on your plate with little interest. It had been like this for weeks—your appetite dwindling as your thoughts spiraled into darker places. Every time you looked in the mirror, all you saw were the imperfections: the rolls on the side of your back, the softness of your stomach when you sat, the marks on your thighs. You compared yourself endlessly to Feyre, Elain, and Nesta—how effortlessly thin they seemed, how perfectly their bodies fit into the image of what you thought you should look like.

But you weren’t them. You had curves, and while once they had made you feel powerful, now all you could see were the parts of yourself you wished would disappear. And then there was Cassian—so fit, so muscled, and not an ounce of fat. The warrior everyone admired, the embodiment of strength. How could you stand beside him and feel worthy when you didn’t even feel comfortable in your own skin?

You hadn’t noticed him watching you as you sat there, barely touching your food. But Cassian had been paying attention. He had noticed the way your appetite had waned, the way you pulled back when he tried to wrap his arms around your waist, the way you would avoid looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Are you going to eat that?" His voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to see him standing in the doorway, his gaze serious.

You forced a smile, pushing the food around your plate. "I’m just not that hungry."

Cassian narrowed his eyes, the soft concern on his face quickly shifting into something more determined. "That’s not true," he said, crossing the room in a few strides. "You haven’t been eating, and I want to know why."

You felt the knot of guilt tighten in your chest as he stood in front of you, arms crossed. His presence was imposing, but the worry in his eyes softened the sharpness of his stance.

"I... I just don’t feel like it," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s nothing."

Cassian crouched down in front of you, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Don’t lie to me, love," he said, his voice low but filled with a quiet intensity. "I’ve noticed. You haven’t been eating right for weeks. You’re not yourself."

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You didn’t want to have this conversation. How could you explain that you felt inadequate, that every time you looked at him—this strong, perfect warrior—you felt like you didn’t measure up?

"I don’t look like them," you blurted out, unable to stop the words from spilling out. "I don’t look like Feyre, or Elain, or Nesta. I’m not thin, Cass. I have fat on my stomach, and marks on my thighs, and when I sit, there are rolls on my back. I don’t look like you—fit, strong. And I... I just feel like I shouldn’t eat if I want to be better."

Cassian’s face softened immediately, and without hesitation, he reached for your hands, gently pulling them into his grasp. "Don’t ever say that," he said firmly, his eyes burning with emotion. "Don’t you dare compare yourself to them. You are *you*. You are my mate, and I love every inch of you, just as you are."

You blinked, the tears finally spilling over as the weight of your insecurities came crashing down. "But I don’t look like you," you choked out. "You’re so perfect, and strong, and I’m just... not."

Cassian’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as he looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache. "I am not perfect," he said, his voice soft but steady. "And I don’t want you to be, either. I love you for who you are, not for what you think you should look like. Your body is yours, and it’s beautiful. Those curves, the softness of your skin, the marks on your thighs—they’re all part of you, and I wouldn’t change a single thing."

You sobbed, the weight of his words sinking in as you buried your face in his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"I don’t care what anyone else looks like," he murmured against your hair. "I care about you. And I need you to take care of yourself, not because of how you look, but because I want you to be healthy. You deserve to feel good, to feel strong in your own way."

He pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up so you could see the sincerity in his gaze. "You are not meant to be Feyre, or Elain, or Nesta. You are *you*, and I fell in love with every single part of you. I wouldn’t want you any other way."

You sniffled, the warmth of his words finally starting to settle in. "I just... I don’t know how to stop feeling like this."

Cassian kissed your forehead, his hands never leaving yours. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. But we’re going to work on this, together. You’re not alone, and I’ll be here every step of the way. And for now," he added with a soft smile, "you’re going to eat. Not because you have to, but because you deserve to treat yourself with the same love I have for you."

With trembling hands, you nodded and picked up the fork, taking a bite of the food in front of you. Cassian stayed by your side, his hand gently resting on your back, comforting you as you took the first steps toward healing.

And in that moment, you knew that with him, you would learn to see yourself as he did—worthy, beautiful, and loved.

[steddieasitgoes]

i wanna be close to you

written for @steddie-week Day 3 prompt: Longing/Mutual Pining Rating: T | wc: 1825 | no cw special thank you to @sidekickjoey for beta-ing this at the last minute (and my day 1 one too because I forgot to mention it on the post!) Read on ao3

The smell of chlorine lingers on their skin. 

Eddie’s hair is a tangled mess, partly from the hours spent horsing around in the pool with the kids and partly because that’s just its default state. He claims it’s for proper curl maintenance, but Steve has a sneaking suspicion he doesn’t like the way a brush or comb feels working through the tangles.  

They’re lying on the roof of Steve’s house. It’s not the smartest of ideas — what with the handful of beers and joint or two they’ve shared in the hours since the kids rode their bikes home — but he can’t deny that it’s nice. There’s an evening breeze chasing off the humid summer heat as the sun sets in the distance. Soon, they’ll be plunged into darkness, with nothing but the dim stars above them and the distant streetlights to keep them visible. 

Steve’s counting down the moments until the darkness overtakes them, until he doesn’t have to worry about Eddie rolling over and spotting the flush that’s spread from the tips of his ears all the way down to his newly pierced belly button (that’s the last time he makes an Uno bet with Robin, that cheater). Until the moment when Eddie won’t be bathed in warm yellows and oranges from the setting sun like some painting that belongs in a museum. 

It’s quiet up here, aside from Eddie’s restless fingers tapping on the tiles of the roof beside him.  Two short taps, another, then a drag, two short taps, three drags, three taps, and so on. It’s not steady like the usual beats he plucks out with his fingers, but he keeps repeating it over and over and over again. It’s a welcome noise, a nice distraction from Steve’s racing heart that he’s sure Eddie could hear if he wasn’t lost in his own thoughts. 

Steve’s never been in a situation like this before, lying so close to someone — thighs touching, hands practically pinned between their sides — and being unable to reach out and touch. 

Not in the way he wants to, at least. 

He wants his lips on Eddie’s. 

He wants to know what the slight stubble on his jaw would feel like against his cheek.

He wants to chart every scar, every imperfection, every tattoo with his hands and then his lips. Maybe even his tongue and teeth. 

He craves to know what it feels like to have Eddie’s weight on top of him and what his warm eyes will look like when he’s the one hovering over him. 

He wants other things, too. 

More moments like this for one, the two of them perfectly content in the stillness of the night. And more moments like earlier, where the noise reached questionable levels as they goofed around with the kids. 

He wants to cook Eddie breakfast, even if it takes him three tries to get the eggs right because he knows he’s picky about the consistency. He wants to hold his hand in public and not have to worry about what anyone is going to say about it. He wants Eddie to be the last person he sees when he goes to bed, and the first person when he wakes up.

He wants and wants and wants, and Steve is used to getting what he wants.

But, Eddie is a want he can’t have. 

It’s too risky. Maybe, if it was just their relationship at stake, Steve would be brave enough to curl his finger around Eddie’s tapping away beside him, give a little tentative touch to test the waters before he fully gives in to his desires. 

But it’s not just his relationship at stake. No, it’s the kids��� and Robin’s and Nance’s. Hell, even Joyce and Hopper’s relationship with Wayne would be muddled if Steve did something to make Eddie uncomfortable. 

He can’t risk it. 

They’ve lost too much over the years to risk losing a friend like Eddie, too. 

So, Steve resides himself to the longing deep in his bones and steals another quick glance at Eddie in all his glory beside him. 

He’s sitting up now, knees pulled up to his bare chest as he looks out into the darkness that’s spreading by the second. He wraps his restless arms around his legs, pillowing his head on the tops of his skinned knees. His eyelashes are long, fanning against his cheek with every slow blink. Eddie stays like that for a moment or two before he turns his head, squinting into the darkness of night until Steve comes into focus.

Steve watches as Eddie’s lips slowly twitch up into a smile that makes his entire body turn molten. It takes every muscle in Steve’s body to keep himself planted on the roof. Internally, he’s at war with himself — one side telling him to run, to dive inside the window to his bedroom and get as far away from Eddie as he can; the other side telling him to throw caution to the wind, close the distance, and go after what he wants just like he’s always done. 

He doesn’t do either. Instead, he pushes himself into a seated position until he’s mirroring Eddie, knees to his chest and his head turned in his direction, soaking in the quiet moment with his best friend. 

Steve’s gotten used to Eddie’s tapping on the roof, to the rustling of the trees in the evening breeze and the final chirps from the birds calling their flock to bed. To the occasional crackling of asphalt underneath worn tires as people come home from work.

Now, it’s quiet. 

Too quiet. 

Too still. 

Eddie doesn’t fidget. He barely even blinks, eyes too focused on Steve darting all around as if he’s trying to commit him to memory. He swears he notices Eddie’s cheeks turning pink — it’s subtle, but it’s there. He knows it is. 

Maybe he feels it too, Steve thinks, eyes closed as he muddles through the emotions swirling in his head. Maybe Eddie wants him, too.

When he opens them, Eddie’s still looking at him with those soft, warm eyes of his. Unwavering. He’s fully sitting up now, too, his head no longer buried in his folded arms over his knees.

His cheeks are still a rosy red color, and something inside Steve snaps at the little detail. His resolve weakens, his fingers itching to close the distance as his heart slows down for the first time since they clumsily climbed onto the roof. 

This is it, Steve thinks. If ever there was a moment to risk it all, it’s right now. 

“Hey, Ed—“ 

The words die on the tip of Steve’s tongue as Eddie kisses him. 

The world goes quiet; even his brain has hit the mute button, allowing him to focus on the press of his lips against Eddie’s. Unfortunately, that’s all it is. A chaste press of lips like middle school kids unsure of what the mechanics of a kiss look like beyond lip-to-lip contact.  

Just as Steve’s leaning in to deepen the kiss, Eddie pulls away. 

Steve watches as the moment registers in Eddie’s mind — his face going from a pleasant rosy red to scarlet in an instant. He fidgets beside him, desperately trying to get to his feet to make his great escape without rolling off the roof. 

It makes Steve nervous. 

So nervous, his hand moves on his own volition, wrapping around Eddie’s wrist to steady the man and his lanky limbs. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says in a rush. He shakes his head, tangled curls flying about haphazardly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t — fuck, I — I don’t know what I thought. I’m just —“ 

“Hey,” Steve calls, barely above a whisper because there’s no reason to yell. He reaches a tentative hand out and curls it underneath Eddie’s chin until he’s looking into those familiar brown eyes. “Don’t apologize. I wanted it, too. I want you.”

Steve's lips are on Eddie’s a moment later. It’s just as awkward, maybe even worse, and for a horrified second, he wonders if this is the universe’s way of saying that they don’t belong together. But then, Eddie’s kissing him back, and the world makes sense. 

It feels good — better than any kiss Steve’s ever had. The scratch of Eddie’s stubble against his cheek is perfect. Eddie’s lips are rougher than any girl he’s ever been with, sure, but Steve still loves it. It makes him feel less bad about grazing his bottom lip with his teeth until he’s pulling it, coaxing a gasp from Eddie that Steve takes advantage of immediately. 

They have to be careful —  way more careful than Steve wants to be right now — so they don’t go rolling off the roof, but they work with what they’ve got. Eddie’s hands settle on the backside of his neck, fingers curling into the strands at the base, pulling gently until Steve’s making his own embarrassing noises into the once quiet night. 

Steve never pulls away, breathing through his nose instead as his lips map the expanse of Eddie’s face — the curve of his lips, the dimple high on his cheekbone and down to the tender spot behind his ear. 

Eddie shifts, hands dropping until they’re resting on Steve’s bare thigh, dangerously close to the hem of his swim trunks. Steve feels himself twitch and as good as it feels, he really, really doesn’t want to do this on his roof where any one of his neighbors might see if they look out their windows. 

“Eddie,” Steve says, finally pulling his mouth away from his warm, inviting skin. “Fuck, Eddie. We can’t—“ Eddie’s face falls and Steve’s heart sinks to his feet as he starts rambling out an explanation. “We can. I mean, of course, we can. I want to. Just not here. Not on my roof—“ Pleased, Eddie resumes his touch, hands trailing closer and closer to the hem as his lips explore his neck now. Steve pants beside him, trying to control himself. “My room. Let’s move this to my room.” 

It’s not elegant in the slightest. The two of them push and shove their way through the small window, nearly getting stuck because they’re too impatient to take turns, but they manage to fall through the window and a second later onto Steve’s plush queen bed. And then they’re lost in each other, lips and hands, and it’s everything Steve thought it would be and somehow even better. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” Eddie whispers later when they’re settled in the sheets. He’s using Steve as a pillow, head rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. Steve’s got one hand in his hair, twirling a tangled lock between his fingers, the other wrapped around Eddie’s shoulder, holding him there just in case Eddie tries to run again. 

“Good.” Steve smiles, dipping his head down to press a kiss into the mess of curls. “I think I’m in love with you, too.” 

[misserabella]

ellie williams masterlist! <3 (a win for the girls)

“just give me five minutes and my knife. i’d tell

you if they’re lying or not.”

𓆸 smut! ❁ fluff! ✮ favorites!

⧆ angst

☆ a little blurb about switch ellie! 𓆸

☆ eugene’s secret 𓆸 ❁

☆ favorite favor ❁

☆ just pretend 𓆸

☆ playing dangerous 𓆸

☆ secret for a secret 𓆸

☆ look like an angel 𓆸

☆ CONFESSEX 𓆸

☆ sick love 𓆸

☆ forbidden jealousy 𓆸

☆ catch me if you can 𓆸

☆ you love it when i play with you 𓆸

☆ loser! ellie hc 𓆸

☆ high and starving 𓆸

☆ consume 𓆸

☆ a lil +18 blurb 𓆸

☆ trying overstimulation on sub! ellie 𓆸

☆ just say so 𓆸

☆ in heat (ellabs aob) 𓆸

☆ dove fucking with ellie

anon! requests! <3

☆ sub! bratty ellie 𓆸

☆ new blood 𓆸 ⧆

☆ jealousy, jealousy 𓆸 ⧆

☆ fluffy protective ellie ❁

☆ fluff + angst ❁ ⧆

☆ playing games 𓆸

☆ sexting with gf ellie (multiple parts) 𓆸

☆ ink lust love 𓆸

☆ punishment 𓆸

☆ take it 𓆸

☆ real love 𓆸

☆ yes, sir 𓆸

☆ ellabs aftercare 𓆸

☆ angst enemies to lovers 𓆸

☆ cuff me up 𓆸

☆ reader on her period 𓆸❁

☆ chaotic ellie williams

☆ perfectly imperfect ❁

☆ cum hub 𓆸

☆ don’t make a sound 𓆸

☆ what if i don’t wanna stop 𓆸

☆ mine 𓆸

[fortheloveofpiggy]

TW this is a rant about proship and comship! Tags will have more in-depth trigger warnings

Edit: OMG PROSHIPPERS STOP MAKING THIS POST ABOUT DEFENDING IF SHIPPING CHILD X ADULT OR INCEST IS OKAY OR NOT THE POST IS ABOUT THE LABLE I DONT WANT TO ARGUE WITH YALL ABOUT THAT ANYMORE.

This is my one post where all people on all sides of the proship debate can interact. Including proshippers. If that makes you uncomfortable then don’t interact. I hate echo chambers and I want to hear all sides.

Also sorry for cross tagging just want the opinions from all sides

Actual post:

I hate the terms proship, neutral ship, and antiship. They’re all extremes and I hate them. From what I understand the meanings are

Proship: support all ships no matter what even if they’re comships

Neutral ship: doesn’t have an opinion at all

Antiship: is anti any comship which is outrageous

If y’all don’t know comship just means complex ship or they enjoy more morally grey or imperfect ships. This can include things like human X different intelligent species (like aliens, furries, monsters) which most rational people don’t think is bad. But this can also mean kid X adult, family x family, or victim X abuser

I actually don’t identify as pro, neu, or anti because I think some comships are good and healthy. I think morally grey ships are important in media when done correctly. Especially since a lot of relationships are rocky and not always healthy and it’s good to show that in media. My own ocs personally aren’t in a perfectly healthy relationship because of their own issues. But this should be done respectfully and with care. Abuse shouldn’t be romanticized but people can be romantic outside of the abuse going on just like in real life relationships

But in a pedophilic fan fiction or art or an incest fanfic or art there is no such thing as a loving part of it. The relationship in itself is abuse because a minor being with a child is abuse and family members being together is abuse. It’s not healthy for anyone involved to romanticize relationships like that and frankly can effect reality no matter how you spin it because it’s representing something as normal to kids.

Right now a lot of neutrals, antis, and probably a lot of pro shippers are agreeing but that’s where my point really starts

The term “proship” and “anti ship” are too vague. If you say you’re proship you sound like you defend media where children are harmed. I understand the meaning is being proshipping and minding your business but that’s still what you look like and frankly that’s what the term does. If you’re pro everything then that means you’re pro the harmful stuff too

And the term “antiship” suggest that you’re anti shipping in general or anti any complex ship which is also unhealthy for us all because morally grey topics need brought up. Antis also are very very commonly okay with harassment when it comes to proshippers

And neutral ship is basically just saying you don’t have a opinion at all which is harmful because you’re suggesting you’re okay with the harm done on both sides. And I understand some people who are neutral ship agree with me and don’t just not care but I feel like majority is the former not the latter (based on what I’ve seen)

Also disclaimer if you’re neutral because of mental health or because you have better things to deal with that’s valid but identifying as neutral ship does put you in it and i instead suggest staying out of it entirely

So idk maybe we should make a term for the middle. I had a few ideas maybe something like middleship or intentship (intentship meaning enjoying or allowing all ships as long as the intentions are good and are not to romanticize trauma or abuse)

Idk everyone can share their opinions but if I see another proshipper say fiction doesn’t effect reality I’m gonna scream and if I see another anti shipper call all morally grey ships bad as if they done killed their grandma I’ll go insane

[sulumuns-dootah]

NSFW Alphabet - Leviathan

༺☆༻

A/N: Sorry this took a long time. Been a busy and chaotic past month, but I'm working on things so hopefully they'll be ready to post soon. Also, Levi isn't exactly my favorite so I had hard time analyzing and accounting for all the lore we have so far.

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

༺☆༻

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you had an intense encounter, you'd both need it, which is why he calls for his servants to come and care for the both of you. Otherwise, he doesn't mind to do some extra steps to get you comfortable.

༺☆༻

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Our nice piece of ass loves your neck. The loyalty noose would look amazing around it. Or maybe his hands?

༺☆༻

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I'd say his cum tastes like caviar. He's technically a fish too, after all. Definitely the king whose cum I'd enjoy the least. It's also not as opaque, but with a slight shimmer.

༺☆༻

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

While he's having some me-time, sometimes he puts on a noose around his neck and orders himself to hang.

༺☆༻

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

With how rarely he trusts anyone, I'd say he barely has any. He gets the gist, knows many positions, but hasn't tried out most of them.

༺☆༻

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position, really. As long as you're strangling him hard enough, he doesn't care.

༺☆༻

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)

No jokes here. In fact, no jokes ever. Besides like some special circumstances.

༺☆༻

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Perfectly silky smooth like the rest of him. There's no room for imperfection.

༺☆༻

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If he's bedding you, you're already doing something right. I imagine him being super vulnerable figuratively as well as literally with the strangling and all.

༺☆༻

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His main source of getting off. He can't even remember the last time he's slept with someone. Once you're in the picture, however, that immediately changes and his hands focus onto you.

༺☆༻

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Beside the obvious breath control and getting beat up, he also strikes me as the type that would be into voyeurism as in getting watched fucking someone.

༺☆༻

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Public places are out of the question. The safety of his castle is the only place where he allows himself to get loose.

༺☆༻

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Jealousy, of course. But also public humiliation as long as he sees you as more than just his subject.

༺☆༻

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Share a partner. He'd get too jealous and possessive. Unless, of course, you tie him up as a punishment. HE would actually enjoy that.

༺☆༻

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Force him to go down on you and you'll have one of the best orgasms ever. In giving-head-contest he'd come close second (only beaten by the pussy devourer fly boy). While giving him head, he'd get super whiny and needy. Tease him and he'll lose his mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

There's two ways Levi can go. Either he's downright lovemaking with you or the bedroom is a whole ass battlefield.

༺☆༻

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Actually, thinking about the location again... I wanted to say that why have quickies when you're at his castle and have all the time in the world, but thinking about it, If the need arises and you're not in his chambers, he would definitely use his coffin to have a quickie with his partner.

༺☆༻

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)

Depending on the risk. He wouldn't mind seeing how long you can hang from the noose, but wouldn't try and introduce lovecraftian horrors in the bedroom.

༺☆༻

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Leviathan's energy is stored in that juicy ass of his and boy, can he go for long time. The thing is, that he will, however, start complaining that he's tired and that you have to do the rest yourself.

༺☆༻

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Levi doesn't really strike me as the type to use toys. His imagination is enough for him. In my mind he's more old fashioned and all these different toys are just a riffraff for him. (Meaning he's too shy to buy some and would be afraid to get caught using them.)

༺☆༻

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh this man *italian hand motion* loves to tease, but the moment you tease back you have no time to react before you're hanging from the ceiling.

༺☆༻

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Whimpers. This man whimpers and it's the best thing you've ever heard (besides Beel's purring). How loud, depends on the situation. If you're on the bottom, some might escape him. But if you're on top, oh boy, all the demons in the surrounding chambers know.

༺☆༻

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Actually, not a hc, but more of an analysis of his H scene that I really want to talk about? Okay, so Levi makes it really obvious that he wants to be beaten and straight up just abused. This just screams to me a trauma response, which is extremely sad to me. The amount of abuse he had to endure to the point where his mind equates it to pleasure just so he doesn't go bonkers?

༺☆༻

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Once again, if you have the Erolabs version, you're lucky to see his sausage in the game itself. I personally agree with the ingame depiction of Levi's dick (unlike certain pierced someone's).

༺☆༻

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Actually, piggybacking off the wild card analysis, I think Levi can go anytime all the time. One of trauma responses tends to be hypersexuality (but I'm not a professional psychologist, so don't take my word for it). We even know about it from the Halloween event where Minhyeok says that Levi looks like he's in the mood despite fighting off angels.

༺☆༻

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not really a sleep I'd say, but he wouldn't mind snuggling up after some exhausting workout. Just don't get too used to it since he's too busy.

[mochiprincesz]

🖤Black★Star x Kid🖤

plus some headcanons i have👀

-nicknames they have for eachother:

Black★Star nicknames for Kid:

“Kiddo” : Just a playful twist on Kid’s name that can be both endearing and teasing.

"Night Star" : A nickname inspired by Kid’s role as a grim reaper and Black☆Star’s star motif, symbolizing their connection as partners.

"Golden Boy": A loving and slightly cheesy nickname that highlights how perfect Black☆Star thinks Kid is. (idk about this one)

Kid’s nicknames for Black★Star:

“Star” : A simple but meaningful nod to Black☆Star's name

“Starlight” : Reflecting the softer side of their relationship, "Starlight" would be a tender nickname Kid uses in more intimate moments.

some Headcanons for their Adult lives:

In public, Kid is more reserved about showing affection, while Black☆Star has no problem being loud and proud about his love. However, in private, Kid is the one who becomes more openly affectionate, enjoying quiet moments where he can relax and be close to Black☆Star.

Kid loves it when Black☆Star surprises him with perfectly symmetrical gifts or setups. Whether it’s arranging a meal or lining up their shoes in a perfect row, Black☆Star goes out of his way to make sure things are just right for Kid. He may not always get it perfect, but the effort melts Kid’s heart. (I ‘d like to imagine that Black☆Star asks Tsubaki for help to make Kid a bento :’) )

Black☆Star wakes up early to exercise and do his whole work out routine, meanwhile Kid likes to wake up at 8.

Black☆Star frequently gives Kid star-themed gifts to remind him of their bond. Whether it’s jewelry, trinkets, or even a star-shaped pillow, he finds ways to sneak stars into their life as a subtle declaration of his love.

Kid’s side of their shared space is always impeccably neat, while Black☆Star’s side is a bit messier. Despite Kid’s love for order, he doesn’t mind Black☆Star’s chaos as much as people might expect. It’s a sign that they’ve found a balance and a way to live together in harmony.

When Kid is overwhelmed by his duties as Lord Death, Black☆Star steps in to lighten the load. Whether it’s through humor, helping with tasks, or just being a supportive presence, Black☆Star knows how to keep Kid grounded when the weight of responsibility becomes too much.

Black☆Star is always there to lift Kid up when he’s feeling down or uncertain. His confidence and optimism are contagious, and he helps Kid see the brighter side of things, even when Kid is lost in thought or self-doubt.

Kid has a fear of not living up to his father’s legacy, but Black☆Star is always there to reassure him. He reminds Kid that he’s strong, capable, and loved, helping him see that he doesn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders alone.

Black☆Star learns patience through his relationship with Kid. While he’s naturally impulsive, being with Kid has taught him to slow down and think things through,especially when it comes to Kid’s meticulous nature.

Kid, over time, becomes more accepting of imperfections because of Black☆Star’s influence. Being with someone who lives so freely and chaotically helps him let go of the small stuff, realizing that not everything needs to be perfect for it to be beautiful.

When they argue, it’s usually intense but brief. Black☆Star tends to shout and let out his frustration quickly, while Kid stays calm and tries to reason things through. They’ve learned to resolve their differences by talking things out afterward, with Kid often initiating the conversation to ensure they’re both on the same page. But of course Black☆Star being himself, he tends to brush off things quickly.

After a fight, Black☆Star is the first to apologize—usually through grand gestures like showing up with flowers or doing something over-the-top to make Kid laugh. Kid, on the other hand, shows his forgiveness by planning a quiet date or organizing something special that reflects both of their interests.

Kid is more subtle with his affection, often leaving little notes or perfectly organized meals for Black☆Star when he’s busy with work. Black☆Star, on the other hand, is more direct, often surprising Kid with spontaneous acts of affection like sweeping him off his feet ,literally.

When they cuddle, Kid likes to lie in a perfectly symmetrical position with their bodies aligned, while Black☆Star has no problem sprawling out or even tangling them up in a mess of limbs. Kid has gotten used to it, though, and finds comfort in Black☆Star’s warmth despite the lack of symmetry.

These were some of my headcanons for Kid and Black☆Star i hope you like em :)

Art by me @mochiprincesz

Please do NOT repost on any other social media platforms. 🙏🏼

Pinterest refs that i used:

[bridenore]

HD longer fics recs : 90k to 100k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 90k and 100k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here and between 100k and 125k here.

Allegiance and Sedition by SilentAuror [98k]

The war is in its fifth year, and Harry finds himself caught up in the confusion of friend versus enemy, spy versus traitor.

At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 [91k]

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

A Case of You by @epitomereally [97k]

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

Chasing Dragons by @the-sinking-ship [98k]

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-it​ [94k]

Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.

Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

Hermione Granger’s Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]

‘You’re a wizard, Harry’ is easier to hear from a half-giant when you’re eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you’re seventeen and late for work.

How I Met Your Father by @dracogotgame [95k]

Harry sits his kids down and tells them a story. A very long story. 

How To Train Your Malfoy by @fencer-x [93k]

Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di [93k]

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he’s a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998’s 15th reunion isn’t welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives.

Light up the Night by Saras_Girl [98k]

This year, despite his better judgement, Harry’s love life is going off with a bang. Advent fic 2019.

Season of the Spirit by Saras_Girl [95k]

It starts with a swan. What happens after that is a bit of a mystery. 2018 advent story.

The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]

Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasn’t meant to be anything more.

Tempus Fugit by Poison Pen [90k+]

A monumental cock-up in Potions means that Harry and Draco have more to contend with than mutual enmity. A journey of discovery, self-reflection and love.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid [99k]

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry’s justice is his ticket back to everything he’s lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy’s world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Ann and Lulu. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: Hello again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

You take your time unpacking. The more you think about the others, the more nervous you are. Peter’s nice enough and the others didn’t seem so bad but they’re still strangers to you. Everything about this is strange. New home, new school, new city... 

You put away the last of your clothes and unzip the smaller pockets. You put away your charging cords and the little bits and bobs tucked away. You leave your pouch of toiletries on the dresser, a mirror mounted to it, and put your straightener and curling iron beside it, adjusting them until they’re perfectly horizontal. 

You make yourself turn away before you can get hung up on the little imperfections in the wood. You pace in a full circle around the room then stop by the window. You nearly scream as an unexpected figure looks back at you. 

Steve, the security guy, looks just as surprised then laughs at himself. His eyes crinkle and he waves. You don’t know what else to do but return the gesture. You back away shyly and cross your arms. 

Maybe your dad is right. Maybe you aren’t cut out for college. It’s so confusing when he says that, he’s the one who wanted you to go so bad. 

You stop by the bed as you hear the other girls coming down the stairs. You don’t move. If you’re still enough you might just disappear. Or at least, you won’t make enough noise to remind them of your existence. 

No such luck. The knock on your door jolts you from your inaction. You don’t answer it right away. You could make an excuse. You could say you have a headache or that you’re tired. The latter isn’t entirely untrue. 

You can’t. You don’t want things to be like they were before. You can’t let yourself be the odd one out. 

You go to the door and open it. It’s one of those girls. You don’t remember her name. She has silvery purple eyeliner and glossy lips. 

“Molly, was it?” She smiles and giggles, a small flutter in her fingers as she sways. “I’m Lulu, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you utter quietly. 

“We... we’re...” she looks behind her, “we’re going to make some drinks and play some ping pong--” 

“Ping pong?” The door next to yours opens, startling both you and Lulu. “I’ve been waiting for some real competition.” 

“Oh, hi, er... Peter?” 

“Luanne, right?” He counters. 

“Lulu,” she corrects, “you can come too!” 

She giggles again. It’s not really humourous, more of a brittle crackle. When she does it, she almost twitches. She’s nervous. That makes you feel a little less so. You’re not the only scared one. 

“Awesome,” Peter shuts his door, “you coming, Moll?” 

You nod, surprised by his pet name. Moll? Your dad calls you Molly Anne but you like Molly just fine. You close your door and follow Lulu as she leads the way. You’re overly aware of Peter right behind you. 

As you get to the kitchen, there’s a squeal. Barbie, the bouncy one, shakes moisture from her fingers and laughs. The other girls join her. 

“You’re making such a mess,” the other girl, you think her name was Polly, chides. 

“It ain’t fun if it ain’t messy,” Barbie chirps back then glances over at you. “Oh, there they are. Finally. We’re about to get started.” 

You smile and Lulu skips ahead. She watches Barbie as she wipes up the mess then grabs the bottle and fills the lined up shot glasses. Peter steps up beside you, his elbow brushing yours. “Tequila, huh? You girls ready to get wild?” 

“Think you can handle it?” Barbie goads. 

“You know it. How about we make it interesting?” 

“How’s that?” Barbie wonders, the other girls look between them, you included. 

“Ping pong. Losers take a shot each round.” 

“Hmm, well there’s six of us and only four paddles,” she tuts. 

“We’ll do a tournament. Three teams.” Peter suggests. 

“That works, I guess,” Barbie shrugs, “everyone in?” 

You peer around and nod as the others do the same. You don’t want to be the party pooper. You’ve never played ping pong before. 

“Dibs on Molly,” Peter nudges you with his elbow. “Ready to win, partner?” 

You peek at him and shrug, “sure, but uh, I might not be very good.” 

“I’ll take whoever,” another girl, the only one you haven’t met, says. She meets your gaze and smiles, “I’m Ann by the way.” 

“Molly,” you reply, this time remembering to do so. 

“Me and Polly will make it fair and won’t team up,” Barbie says, “how about it, Lu?” 

Lulu giggles, “alright!” 

“Guess it’s me and you,” Polly says to Ann. 

“Alright, we got our teams but we’ll do some inaugural shots first! We have to christen this place!” Barbie whoops and takes a shot glass. “Come on, everyone.” 

You don’t move until Peter does. He’s the first one, and the most eager, to join Barbie. Ann follows and Lulu’s close enough to take a glass, and Polly takes one with a trite look.  

Barbie raises her glass, “cheers.” 

You echo her and you watch the others drink before you do the same. You cover your mouth as you swallow, eyes watering, nearly choke. Lulu looks just as shocked by the sear of the alcohol and the other hiss and laugh about it. 

“Holy shit, that’s strong,” Peter slams his glass back on the counter. “You bring that, Barbs?” 

“Barbie,” she corrects him once more. “Yes, only the best.” 

“Hmm, I think it would go great with pizza,” Peter says, “my treat. How about it, girls?” 

“Pizza?” Lulu says hopefully. 

“Can’t drink on an empty stomach. Or ping pong. Trust me, you don’t wanna touch a paddle without a good meal in ya,” he snickers. 

“You’re goofy,” Barbie says, “but I am starving.” 

“Me too,” Polly agrees. 

You nod in agreement and your stomach rumbles. Peter looks at you and pats your shoulder, “Mood,” he rubs his stomach at the same time, “alright, toppings? What are thinking? Please don’t say cauliflower crust. I need real carbs in me.” 

Things are getting interesting. The first round of ping pong is almost through and the tip tap, click clack of the ball bounces over the table top. You keep your eyes on the blurry white sphere, flick your wrist as fast as you can. Peter returns each shot, the game coming down to a duel as Lulu and Molly can only watch you battle. 

A loud chime makes you falter you miss the shot. You curse and toss the paddle to the table. “No fair! The doorbell messed me up.” 

“Excuses, excuses,” Peter sneers. “Losers get the pizza!” 

“You are so lame,” you huff at him. 

“Hey, I paid.” 

You roll your eyes and spin away. Lulu sets down her paddle and follows your strut out of the room. You’re not that upset. It’s just a game and you are pretty hungry. 

You open the door to the delivery man. You nearly slam it in his face as his eyes rove up and down you. It’s no unusual, you’ve noticed Peter’s stray glances all night, but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. 

“Hello,” you sing. 

“Hello,” smirks back, a bristle of a mustache over his lip. “All this for you two ladies?” 

“It’s a party,” you assure him as you reach to take the boxes. 

“Ah, exciting, getting lit?” 

You almost laugh in his face. Is he trying to be cool? You balance the boxes and he hands over the paper bag with the dips to Lulu. She thanks him and only then does he really look at her. Another leer. Ew. 

“Alright, well, have a good night, sir,” you grip the edge of the door. 

“No tip?” He challenges. 

“Um, Peter said he put one in the app,” you shrug, “sorry, but we don’t have one.” 

“Hmm, well...” he eyes you up and down again, “not for nothing I guess.” 

He winks and twists on his heel. As he strides away, you squint after him. His footfalls snag your eyes on his embossed shoes. Slowly, you shut the door before he can turn back and notice. You frown. 

“What’s wrong?” Lulu asks. 

“He... I don’t know. He just... didn’t strike me as a delivery man.” 

“It it Uber?” She asks and looks at the boxes. 

“Hmm, no receipt,” you glance down. “Guess we can ask Peter. Or, you know, it doesn’t matter.” 

You turn and head back down the hall. You suppose anyone can wear Prada loafers. You go back to the gaming room and put the boxes down. 

“Dig in!” You declare, “then time for the second round.” 

“Oh yeah,” Peter grins, “me and Molly versus Ann and Polly. You girls better watch it. She’s a beast.” 

Molly gives an awkward hum and wrings her hands. She stands back as everyone else clusters around for a slice. You use napkins, all too eager to bother with plates. Besides, you haven’t even checked the cupboards. You’ll probably have to go buy a bunch of stuff like that. That will be fun! 

“Mm, this is so good,” Ann says. “It’s been forever since I had pizza.” 

“Me too,” Molly agrees. “My dad only gets it when I get all As. Last year... well... it’ll be better second year.” 

“Second year,” you echo, “me and Polly are second year too.” 

“First,” Ann says. 

“Second,” Peter adds. 

“Third,” Lulu supplies with her trademark giggle, “you have to be third year to do exchange.” 

“Ah, makes sense,” you accept. 

The conversation dies down, replaced by eager chewing. You’re all ravenous. It isn’t until that moment that you realise how long the day’s been but you don’t want to call the night early. Not now that you’re finally back in the thick of it. 

“You didn’t do your shots,” Peter says. “You and Lulu. You lost.” 

“Oh, yeah, we’ll eat first.” 

“Right,” he says doubtfully. 

“Don’t get cocky, the night’s still young.” 

“Mhmm,” his brows flick up. 

You’re slightly irked by him. He’s friendly enough and you really can’t pick out a definitive reason why. He’s just... too much. Almost argumentative but not really aggressive. And he keeps calling your Barbs. You hate that. 

“Come on then, Lu,” you crumple the napkin around your crust, “let’s take our shots.” 

She still has a mouthful but she nods and follows you. You go around the table and take two shot glasses. You pour and push on towards your teammate. You count down and drink in tandem. She whines as she forces it down as you swig it down easily. 

You can eat your humble pie for now, but you’ll get them back in the next one. 

You bat the ball back across the table and trip, barely keeping from tumbling over. It’s late. Two at least. You’ve been at it for hours, back and forth, team versus team. You’ve lost almost every round you’ve played. 

As you stumble for the next shot, you collide with your Ann. The two of you tangle up together as Peter hollers in victory. He’s the most skilled and thus the most sober of the group. You might suspect he’s a hustler but it might just be that no one else cares enough to be good at it. 

“Game point,” Peter announces. 

“Thank god,” Ann mutters, “I can’t handle anymore.” 

“Probably a good idea,” Barbie yawns and looks at her partner. Lulu is at the table, her head in her arms as she snores. The sight of her makes your own eyelids heavier. 

“Come on, let’s just get it over with.” 

Peter smirks and tosses the ball up. He hits it with enough vim to send it bouncing high. Ann tries to swipe at it but only manages to hurl her paddle at the wall. She huffs in disappointment and you put down your own paddle. 

“Huh, kinda anticlimactic,” Peter chuckles. 

“Good game,” you say. 

“I guess,” he looks at Molly and raises his hand, “good job, Molly.” 

She slaps his palm gently, almost as if she’s afraid to touch him. You almost feel bad for Peter. He’s the only guy and everyone seems a bit awkward about that fact. Even him. You have to admit, you don’t exactly like that he’s there. It isn’t his fault but you just aren’t very comfortable around guys. 

“Anyone down for solo?” 

“Aren’t you tired of playing drunk people?” Barbie whines. 

“Pour me a shot, Barbz, I can win fair and square,” he challenges. 

“Barbie,” she snips back for probably the dozenth time. 

“I think...” you rub your eyes, “I’m going to hit the hay. I’m dead on my feet.” 

“Me too,” Ann slurs, “um, I’ll clean up the empty boxes first.” 

“Leave em for the morning,” Barbie stands and waves her off. 

“I don’t mind,” Ann insists. 

“I can help,” Molly offers. 

The two of them gather up the empty boxes and Barbie gently shakes Lulu awake. The poor thing snorts as she sits up too fast and nearly tips out of her seat. Barbie tries to get her up and you go over to help. 

“I think maybe she shoulda done half shots,” Barbie says. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you agree. 

“She can sleep in my room. I’ll make sure she’s okay,” your friend offers. 

“Good idea.” 

“Boo, we’re in college. Come on, let’s pull an all nighter,” Peter says. 

“Pfft,” Barbie scoffs as you as good as carry Lulu between you, “I save those for studying,” 

“Same,” you laugh thinly. 

“Hmm, well, it was fun I guess,” Peter mutters. “How about a rematch tomorrow?” 

“Maybe,” Barbie dismisses. “I think we all need to sleep. We got a lot to do around here.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Peter says, “I’m spending tomorrow evening out my tan. Once winter’s here, I’ll be as pasty as a ghost.” 

His humour fails to laid on the group of drunk and exhausted girls. You help Barbie with Lulu as Ann and Molly fold the cardboard boxes and carry them into the kitchen. You struggle to get the sleepy girl upstairs and Ann catches up to you as you hear Molly squeak out a good night. 

As much fun as that was, you’re going to hate spending your first morning in the house hungover. 

[iprobablyshipit91]

Beautiful

Genre: hurt, comfort, fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size!Female Reader

Word Count: 645

Warnings: body issues, negative thoughts, post pregnancy insecurities

SPN Masterlist

I’ve been feeling a bit down the last few days and this happened kind of out of nowhere but it felt good to write something. Sending love to anyone feeling insecure about their body for whatever reason. You are beautiful just the way you are 💕

You look in the mirror with a frown tugging down at the corners of your lips and sigh heavily. In nothing but your underwear it's hard not to notice the way your body has undoubtedly changed over the last year. Your thighs are a bit thicker, your hips a bit wider, your stomach a lot rounder. Your body has always been thicker set, but strong and capable of fighting as was needed for hunting. Now all you see is soft lines and the pattern of discoloured skin now running in lines down your whole stomach.

You’re no stranger to stretch marks and scars, but these feel different somehow. They’re so wide and the colour of them so vivid that they’re all you can see. And there’s just so damn many of them. The whole of your lower stomach is covered.

The worst thing is that Dean still looks, well incredible. You swear he somehow gets even more handsome as he ages which is entirely unfair. He's still muscular and fit, despite the unlimited amount of burgers and pies he seems to devour. And even though you know it’s ridiculous as it’s not like his body had to grow and change to accommodate a small human, you know that’s not the issue. It's not jealousy that Dean’s body is, in your eyes, flawless. It's that stupid, creeping insecurity that whispers nonsense in your mind, that tells you Dean will want to find someone equally as flawless. Someone who looks like the girls at the bars he used to chase in his younger days.

It's crap and you know it. He gave those habits up long ago and you know he loves you for so much more than the body you steer through the world. But inner voices are nothing if not cruel at the worst of times. You sigh, finger tracing down one of the jagged lines when the door opens behind you.

"Sweetheart, have you s-“

Dean stops, mid-step and mid-sentence, catching sight of you judging yourself in the mirror. You scramble to grab your t-shirt, discarded on the bed, but Dean beats you there, crossing the room in a few short strides and standing between you and the mattress, blocking your way.

"What are you doing?" His question is soft, eyes searching your face and noticing the frown lines that have etched themselves into your forehead.

"Nothing," you whisper, embarrassed at having been caught. You avoid Dean’s eye, but he slips a hand beneath your chin and lifts your face to his.

"You're my favourite, most beautiful girl," he says, looking deep into your eyes before pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head, "Nothing is ever going to change that, okay?"

"Okay," you nod, closing your eyes as a tear slips unbidden down your cheek. He releases you gently, his hands moving slowly down your arms before landing on your hips. The heavy weight of his hands on your skin somehow makes you feel better. It’s a reminder that there is so much more to both of you than your flawed skin and perfectly imperfect bodies.

"I love you, Sweetheart. Exactly the way you are." Dean’s words are a breath against your lips but said with so much conviction that you feel your heart soar. “And these right here,” the back of his fingers stroke gently down the lines on your stomach, tracing the same path yours did just moments ago. “These show what an incredible job you did of carrying and protecting our little boy. I will forever be grateful and so proud of you.”

You close your eyes again, a few more tears spilling over but a small smile graces your face. Dean wipes your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs before he pulls you into a deep kiss that tells you love is more than just skin-deep.

[mrs-snape5984]

“There is no other love, it's only yours…”

“You're all I want, all I love…” (“You’re all I want” by Cigarettes after Sex)

Yesterday I had a really rough day. It didn’t just feel like one of my regular “PEM-Crash-Days” (PEM = post-exertional malaise = the worsening of symptoms after crossing the boundaries of my condition, due to my disease ME/CFS). The whole day was also coated in a thick layer of sadness and grief…an emotional turmoil, which I could only barely endure. Well…mixing these feelings with another wave of fever and pain, seasoned with the incapacity of tolerating screen time, adding the suffocating sensation of loneliness….et voilà! The perfect recipe for a day in hell was created! 🙄

In order to cope with my emotions, I found myself drowning in my fantasies of teenage Severus and my undeniably self-inserted OC Jules…rewriting one of their short fictional scenes. Again, Severus was tormented by his own insecurities, getting carried away in self-loathing. I don’t know, how many times I’ve already written scenes like these. Jules encourages Severus to stay resilient, praising him for all those traits, which he only identifies as his flaws and weaknesses. But for Jules, there’s so much beauty, so much strength in his imperfections. She’s making his blemishes look like the most loveable attributes of Severus’ personality with her passionate speech.

When I wrote this little scene, I recognised something: I already knew, that I’m identifying myself a lot with Severus…but Jules’ words of encouragement and consolation to her beloved friend Sevy…well, they’re are also things, I would crave to hear for myself (how pathetic, huh?!). But since I’m struggling immensely with the acceptance of my own insecurities and fears, I’m not able to reassure myself of my own worth. It’s just not on the table for me!

So…I’ll just keep on telling Severus in my stories, that he deserves nothing less than the whole world…and that Jules will always try to make him feel loved and cared for. She will never stop to compare his flaws with her own weaknesses by explaining to him, how perfectly they’re matching. Jules will never grow tired to assure Severus, that his cynicism is the perfect complement to her sense of sarcasm. For the Slytherin girl, it's a clear sign for Sevy’s extremely high intellect, which is also something, that she adores about her friend. In Jules’ eyes, his bitterness mirrors a form of hypersensitivity, a characteristic, which she knows so well from herself. That’s why she’s acting so empathetically with Severus, whenever he’s suffering with his life…and Jules is convinced, that sharing those feelings will make them less unbearable! The girl even praises Severus’ stubbornness by telling him, that she’s enjoying every good and intelligent argument with him to clear the air between them. All together, Severus’ imperfections are pure perfection to the hopelessly devoted (and obviously love-struck 😅) girl.

I’m aware of the overdramatic nature and the unnecessary fluffiness of my short stories, but that’s the reason, why I’m writing them for my eyes only. It’s my form of a coping mechanism…the only way of allowing myself some kind of self-assurance and comfort…through Severus!

Some time ago, I found an artist here on tumblr, who made me fall head over heels for her tender style of drawing my beloved dungeon bat. Especially an artwork of her interpretation of the younger Snape made my heart ache with longing for him, so of course, I just had to commission @pssherri for an illustration of Severus and my OC Jules in their teenage years.

Sonja, you did an amazing job with this project and I can’t express, how grateful I am for your kindness and the dedication to your profession! It was a pleasure to cooperate with you on this idea of mine and I hope, you’ll be open to work on more of my requests some day. Thank you for everything, my dear!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[tteokdoroki]

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — pretty + bkg.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, reader knows how to draw, just general admiration of bakugou bc i love him, calling bkg pretty, implied friends to lovers,

“you’re so pretty.”

bakugou looks up from his wilfully and organised assignment papers, having easily swept through each short answer essay question— highlighting the important parts so he knows how to grasp the big marks.

“the fuck are you on about?” he grumbles, putting down his work to get a better look at your face.

you’ve long since abandoned the task at hand, having taken to doodling in the back of your hefty project book with a pencil that’s about the size of your thumb. “well,” you hum, tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth in concentration. “i mean,” you hold the pencil up to katsuki’s face to align it— watching as the sun filters down on his golden lashes, as it illuminates the faint freckles he has in the shade of honey across his skin. the led of your pencil scratches across the page satisfyingly enough to make you not miss your sketch book and then you speak again. “you’re just really pretty, katsuki.”

he is, and you mean it.

a blonde eyebrow raises and bakugou scoffs, “now you’re just talking bullshit,” shifting his attention back to the work before him. “get back to work, you have deadlines at the end of the month—“

a heat washes through your body in slow waves, as if you’re a child who’s been told that they’re wrong. you’re not, you’ve never been more right. katsuki is beautiful but in ways that you can never say. you can’t seem to ever string together the correct the words to describe just how beautiful he is— not just physically either. katsuki has a heart of gold, he’s loyal to the death for the people he cares about, he’ll always go above and beyond for them.

“i don’t know how to explain it!” you huff abruptly, still carving out a work of art into your project book— still connecting the freckled dots on his face like constellations in the night sky. “you’re stunning katsuki, a person like you. perfectly imperfect, you should be a statistical anomaly,” heads positioned at other desks in the library whip around to hush your outburst and even the blonde before you makes embarrassed attempts to keep you quiet. “you’re kind, you’re pretty, i wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

“what? you got some sorta evidence of my beauty that i don’t know about?”

bakugou’s face crumples, wrinkling at his nose and lips downturned into a frown— and still he looks better than ever painting completed in the history of art. you sketch his expression down. beauty is in the eye of the beholder, sure, but it frustrates you to know that katsuki doesn’t think the same as you— doesn’t see himself as the centre of the universe and the panicle of all things to be loved because though flawed, he’s a wonderful human being. he’s bewildered by your passion to prove him wrong, but says nothing, going back to his work.

the both of you fall into a silence, accompanied by the sounds of katsuki’s highlighter being dragged across the page and your own pencil on lined paper— the lead smudged on your finger tips as you blend it out on the page.

if he didn’t believe your words, he’d have to believe your art— for he is a work of art himself.

“here,” you whisper, tearing out the page with a small doodle of the handsome blonde, care and attention put into every line— highlighting what you see, the truth about katsuki bakugou. “your evidence.”

for a second, bakugou blanks. he may not see the way you do, but he can tell from your simple and heartfelt drawing that you think the world of katsuki bakugou. that he’s important to you, means something to you. you’re gathering your things when he comes to this realisation— drawing clutched in one hand, the other darting out to grab your wrist.

your eyes meet, vermillion red eyes swirling with appreciation and gratitude— the emotions dancing between the dark brown flecks that line his eyes. “f’the record,” bakugou mumbles, thumbing the edge of the page where you’ve drawn him in his most natural and relaxed form. “i think you’re pretty too. in all the ways…just dunno how to explain it.”

when you laugh brightly, bakugou knows there’s no need for him to explain further— a warmth blossoming in his chest, knowing that he’s appreciated by the one person that matters most to him.

you.

[selfishdoll]

❛favorite groupie...❜ ━━ ft. vamp! sukuna

SUMMARY ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

the last thing you wanted to do was go to a vampire bar just because your best friend’s favorite fanged band was playing. but you did.. and met a certain pink haired drummer whose way too cocky for his own good. luckily, you just love matching energy.

CONTENT WARNING ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

vampires so mentions of blood, bloodsucking, period blood, etc. | self-indulgent asf (reader wears glasses) | semi-public sex | sukuna is a drummer & vampire | ooc sukuna | mean dom! sukuna | praise & degradation | use of the word “groupie” to mock at first but later used as a term of endearment(?) | “pet names” (pretty, doll, minx, sweetheart, etc) | strangers to lovers(? there may be a part two to this) | rough sex | manhandling | throat fucking | sukuna comes on reader’s glasses | pussy drunk sukuna & cock drunk reader | tipsy sex (buzzed really) | sukuna & reader match energy fr. try to see who folds first | denied orgasms | spanking | fingering | etc. if i forgot something tell me please.

NOTE ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

this story is heavily inspired by the old show “true blood” that i am currently obsessed with. that’s where i get the idea of a vampire bar & the term “fang-banger.” you will see several vamp fics because they’re literally my favorite supernatural creature. also, sukuna is gonna be ooc cause i’m sensitive & can’t make characters too mean 😞. also this got longer then i wanted it to so it’s like 5k+ words. as always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes.

Arabian Night burned upon the decorated holder rested on your vanity, the subtle notes of hyacinth and carnation tainting the atmosphere— warming the area around you. Your dark eyes were glued to the mirror, staring back at yourself delicately gliding the tube of mascara along your lashes, careful to assure no product got into your eye.

“I can’t believe you’re really making me go to a vampire bar.” The words left your glossed and lined lips in a hiss, eyes rolling the moment you heard your friend attempt to defend herself on facetime. To be frank you didn’t hate vampires. There weren’t many differences between them and humans. They were both beings that simply fed on other things to survive.

A hamburger to a human was no different then blood to a vampire.

But, you still did your best to avoid them. Which was easy since they were limited on when they come out and most establishments didn’t allow them in. Your friend knew this, knew your justifiable fear of being some vampire’s next meal— yet urged and lowkey manipulated you to going to a vampire bar.

“They’re only here for a week! We’re the first place they’re touring— we have to go!”

Through many days of urging, guilt trips, and puppy eyes you caved; declaring it would be cool to see a vampire’s world or even interact with them. You were still scared but the fear was sure to melt, right?

You rose from the plush pink chair, stepping back into the view of the full body mirror pressed against your wall. Placing your glasses back on, you looked over your form, searching for any imperfections. The outfit was simple; a red cropped edhardy jacket, your lacey white bra poking out from underneath. You wore dark blue jeans with a red belt, white thong straps resting high on your hips. You pursed your lips a bit, gliding your fingers through the honey brown lace you wore, watching the curls bounce perfectly. With another glance over and a push of your glasses you were satisfied, sliding your sock covered feet into some white sneakers— grabbing your other necessary belongings shortly after.

You exited your home locking up behind yourself and heading towards your car. You would have driven with your friend but there was a chance she would end up under the arm of some hot vampire.

“Fang-banger..” Was the simple word that escaped your glossed lips, grinning just a tad as you turned the engine over. She would be pissed to hear you call her that.

After about fifty minutes of driving you arrived to the bar, the entrance surrounded by people. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the anxiety rose. Sure humans were welcome and you’ve heard relatively good things about this particular establishment.. but there were still vampires.

A being that could end you in a single bite.

The thought alone caused you to shiver, shutting your car off and squeezing the steering wheel. You gave yourself a few moments before pulling your hands away, releasing a deep breath and opening your car door. Exiting it, you closed and locked the vehicle; turning in time to see a bubbly woman rushing towards you.

You instinctively opened your arms, eyes rolling as she practically tossed herself into them. You grumbled as kisses were pressed to your cheek, your best friend thanking you over and over again for coming.

“Yeah, yeah— whatever.” You mused, ignoring her hands groping your ass. Your hands lowered to her shoulders, pushing back a bit. “The band is gonna start soon, right? Come on.”

“Oh, right!” She grinned, pulling away whilst locking her hand around your wrist. You were then tugged towards the bar entrance, your free hand gripping your sleeve nervously. Your eyes peered up at the woman beside the door, her red colored lips pulling into a tiny grin at the sight of you and your friend.

A very toothy grin.

“IDs?” She questioned in a velvety tone, eyes focused on you for a split moment— as if sensing your nervousness. You breathed, reaching into the handbag you carried and grabbing your wallet. There you grabbed your identification, passing it to her while your friend did the same.

The woman glanced over the cards for a moment before nodding, passing them back to you two. “You’re all set, have fun girls.” She winked, stepping to the side to let you both inside.

Your friend giggled excitedly as you entered the bar, your eyes dancing around the area. It was a normal bar really; regular tables, a medium sized stage, and a dance floor. People of many different ethnicities — and species — danced and conversed, enjoying drinks and each other. Seeing a vampire feeding in real life was completely abnormal to the point you couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stare so much, it’s rude.” Your best friend whispered, stealing your attention from the scene. You went to apologize, her only smiling and shaking her head. “Here, let’s get some drinks.” She led you over to the bar, the two of you sitting down as she gained the bartender’s attention. She ordered two simple shots, the man nodding and getting right to them.

“I just.. never expected something like this.” You murmured, eyes dancing about. You did your best on not focusing too hard on a vampire sinking their teeth into someone’s neck or a couple basically humping on the dance floor; instead finding interest in the gothic decor and paintings that depicted the bloodsuckers. You turned back to your friend after the once over, giving a nervous smile. “I expected something bad, I guess.”

Your friend shrugged, flashing a gentle smile— thanking the bartender once your drinks were placed down. “A lot of people do. They hear vamp bar and think the worst.” She spoke softly, grasping her shot glass, watching you grab your own. “Even though I forced you.. I’m really happy you came.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, clinking your glass against hers. “Whatever slut.” You downed your drink, listening to the small snort that escaped your friend before she downed her own.

During this the lights on the stage flicked on, members of the bar shouting in excitement. Your friend did the same, turning in her seat at the bar with the widest grin. “They’re here!”

You could only smile at her excitement for her favorite vampire band known as Malevolence. You forced yourself to listen to their most recent music to appease your friend and while you didn’t hate the songs, it just wasn’t something you could get into.

Sigh.. the things you did for friendship.

You rested against your palm, watching as four individuals trudging on stage. Your eyes traced their forms, not overly impressed until you moved onto the last member. The drummer. He was.. better looking then the other three. Tall with pink hair and a black undercut. He wasn’t slim but wasn’t large either, right in the middle. Along with his physique were tattoos along his arms, the rest of his body covered in a black muscle shirt, baggy pants for bottoms.

“Who’s the drummer?” You questioned, eyes glancing at the bartender and requesting another shot. Your friend blinked as she turned, flashing a smile.

“His name’s Sukuna!” Her smile morphed a bit, a little coy now. “He’s not well liked by the media. He’s a little mean.”

You believed her, given how he scowled at a few fans that shouted his name. Even snapping at his bandmates for something briefly. Any interest you had melted away in that instant.

You straightened as they finished setting up the stage, the guitarist stringing his instrument a few times. You smiled at the bartender as he passed your shot, thanking him and taking a swig.

Soon enough, Malevolence started its first song of the night— the bar singing along to the rough voice of the band. You had to admit, it was nice to hear live and see humans bond over their shared love for the music.

You didn’t totally regret coming here.

The band played for about an hour and a half, fans close to the stage attempting to touch and or be touched by the fanged members. It was all entertaining to see, you and your friend taking several videos for your social media.

They closed out their show around ten o’clock, thanking the audience. You cheered along with the others, grinning and turning to your friend. “That was a lot of fun. They sound so good.”

“I know right!” She giggled, completely geeking out about the band. You listened to her ramble intently, the buzz of the alcohol lighting your senses. During her words, however, she suddenly placed a hand onto her stomach. “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time.” You waved the girl off as she rushed over to the bathroom, body turning to face the bar. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your social media for a moment, simply waiting.

That was until you heard the chair two seats down be moved, followed by an annoyed voice.

“Piss off already. I’m not interested.”

It was no surprise your nosy self turned to spot the one and only Sukuna sitting at the bar, waving off a few girls that surrounded and attempted to touch him. The dejected expressions that clung to their featured nearly saddened you, if amusement didn’t interrupt the emotion.

You took a long stare at the man, watching as he instructed the bartender to pour him a glass of some liquid in a tall dark bottle; not even thanking him once he was served. You hadn’t realized your eyes were still on him until the man turned in his chair, facing you.

“You need something? I already said I’m not interested.”

You blinked a bit, snapping out of your trance whilst placing your arm against the bar. You sucked your teeth, turning. “Do I look like a fang banger to you?” You questioned, tone a little rude. From the corner of your eye you spotted the man taking a sip from the glass, tongue gliding across his bottom lip.

“No.” Sukuna started softly, fingers tapping against the short glass. “More like some needy groupie.” His tone was mocking, watching in amusement as you turned to face him with a subtle snarl.

It took a moment for you to reply, raising your shot glass and downing the rest of the alcohol. The burning sensation covered your body, melting your usual filter away. “Even if I was a groupie, I would try to fuck the singer— even the guitarist.” You murmured, knowing his inhuman ears would pick up each word. “Not some vamp that beats on the drums.”

His eyebrows rose, releasing a breathy chuckle as he took another gulp from his glass. You watched carefully, breathing the moment you noticed the hint of red staining his fangs. How his tongue glided to collect the residue, clearly enjoying the liquid you now realized was blood. Sukuna’s eyes landed on you once again, the glass clinking against the bar the moment he placed it down.

“You got a lot of mouth.. defending yourself pretty hard too.”

“And you’re implying?”

Sukuna gave a crooked grin, tapping the counter to which the bartender stepped over to fill his glass back up. “You’re just trynna convince yourself you don’t want me. Scared of being a fang banger?” The vampire’s tone was mocking again, enjoying the way you glared and snarled.

“Please.” You hissed softly, shifting in your seat, ignoring the warmth flooding through your body. “Ain’t shit to be scared of. Vampires are no different from a human man.”

To your surprise the man began to laugh, hunched over the bar with his forehead nearly pressing against the brown wood. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth the moment eyes turned to your spot at the bar, sinking into yourself.

“Sweetheart—“ He begun, laughter ceasing into nothing more than a snort. “I assure you I’m different than any other human man that you’ve been with.”

“Why, because you’re cold with no beating heart?”

“No, cause I’ll fuck the attitude out of you permanently.” Sukuna responded far too quickly, watching you gape like a fish for a moment, finally deciding to keep your mouth shut and turning to face the bar. He smirked at this, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head. “Cat got your tongue?”

You closed your eyes, breathing softly. You weren’t a fang-banger, you tried to convince yourself; attempting to ignore how much you were closing your legs together— avoiding his eyes that just highlighted he knew what you were abstaining from.

But as a moment of silence passed you felt that restraint dwindle. Whether the alcohol, Sukuna, or just you being fucking reckless— any logical part of your brain was rendered useless.

So, while pushing your glasses up you turned to face his awaiting gaze. “Prove it.” You dared softly, tilting your head at him.

Sukuna’s mouth quirked, tongue running along his bottom lip as he turned to the bartender. “Put it on my tab. Hers too.” He spoke, rising from his barstool. His hands found his pockets, motioning for you to follow with a tilt of his head. Rather quickly — embarrassingly so — you grabbed your things, following close behind him.

“My name is (Y/N), not her.”

“Think I like sweetheart better.” Sukuna spoke, leading you towards a door stationed beside the stage. You shouldered your bag as the two of you entered backstage, coming to a hallway. Three doors rested on the walls, you following the vampire who lead you to the one at the end of the hall.

He turned the knob, pushing open the door to reveal a simple room. A black vanity, a red sofa, with a black coffee table in the middle. Sukuna closed the door behind you, watching you for a moment as you bent to place your phone and purse down.

You turned, breathing softly the moment he stepped close to you. Your eyes traveled from his chest up to his face, licking your lips nervously. The man tilted his head with a little smirk.

“You were so damn cocky at the bar.. thinking of backing out?”

The nerves seemed to melt in that moment, stepping a bit closer, rising up to allow your lips to brush. “Sukuna.. are you gonna fuck the attitude out of me, or are you gonna keep talking?” Your eyes flicked between his lips and his dark eyes, gasping the moment you felt a cool hand rising to the back of your neck.

Wordlessly he leaned down, planting his lips against your own. His kiss was rough, stealing your breath away all while his tongue bullied it’s way past your pretty glossed lips. The wet, long muscle curled and slid against your own, licking into your mouth and claiming it as his own. The messy sounds of your lips surrounded the room, your soft moans following.

Sukuna’s hand moved to rest on your throat, thumb pressing against it just to feel you gulp. You pulled away for air, hissing the moment his fangs dragged across your bottom lip, nicking the sensitive skin. He chased your lips for another kiss, licking away the little droplet of blood whilst moving you backwards.

Your hands rose to grip his body, feeling your back press against a wall. You gasped in his mouth as you felt his hand slide down your body, catching the zipper of your cropped jacket and pulling it down your body. The cool air brushed your cleavage, moaning softly the moment his fingers found your hardened nipple under the thin fabric of your bra.

You pulled back, head resting against the wall; whining the moment he pinched your covered bud. “Sukuna, quit fucking teasing.” You hissed, chest rising into his hand for more. The vampire grinned down at you, removing his hand from your breast to instead trail down your body, flicking the belt you wore; buttons of your jeans following.

Now with enough space his hand was entering your pants, two fingers pressing against your wet, covered slit. “Already a fucking mess and I barely touched you.” The drummer commented, face pressing against your collarbone, dragging his fangs across your warm skin. You whined as his fingers found your clit through the fabric of your panties, legs widening and hips rising for more friction. Sukuna chuckled at this, fingertips pressing against the swollen bud, rubbing harsh circles upon it. “Opening your legs for a vampire like this— oh, what a minx you are.”

“Piss off.” You mustered, attempting to keep your resolve in tact. You cried out however, the moment he pinched your clit, the light pleasure and pain melding together.

“Still mouthing off huh?” Sukuna spoke, pulling away from your neck, hand rising to grab your cheeks. His thumb pressed against your lips for a moment before pushing into your mouth, pressing against your tongue all while his fingers entered your panties. The man didn’t tease this time, covering the digits in your slick before sliding them into your damp entrance. He wasted no time in curling the digits inside you, pressing against your gummy walls and growing closer to allow his palm to grind against your clit. A toothy grin was sent your way the moment he felt and heard your muffled moans, fingers scissoring inside your messy pussy, the wet squelches entering the room.

The muffled gasp of his name escaped you the moment he added a third finger, thrusting the digits quickly; stirring you up inside. Your hand fell to his wrist, pretty acrylics digging into his limb, clawing up tattooed skin. Your legs shook as the moments of pleasure continued, eyes pinched close as you felt your orgasm approaching.

Your toes curled, stomach tightening as you grew closer and closer; pussy spasming around his fingers so intensely, he actually added effort to his thrusts.

“Su—sukuna, fuck—!” You whined against his thumb, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth, gagging the moment he pushed the digit farther into your throat. You were so close, squeezing him so harshly that it hurt.

And yet, you weren’t pushed over the edge. Because just when you felt like you would break, the man stopped; withdrawing his fingers before you could even think of finishing yourself off.

Your eyes flew open, glaring at the shit-eating grin plastered across his face. The moment he pulled his thumb from your mouth you were hissing;

“What’s your problem? I was so cl—“

“Did you think you could mouth off like that and I’d would reward you with an orgasm?” Sukuna questioned, head tilted, eyes sweeping your form. The man’s hand rose, fingers pressing into your cheeks and pushing; watching your messy lips pucker. “Fucking needy, looking at you whining just for my fingers.” Sukuna released your cheeks to instead grasp your waist, moving you over to sit on the couch.

The moment your ass met the cushion you felt the heat rise around you, watching in excitement at his hands tugging on the waistband of his pants. Thumbs hooking on the elastic, the vampire pushed them down, black boxers following. His dick escaped the confinements easily, resting tall and thick, beads of precum resting deliciously on the tip.

You bit your lip a little, breathing the moment you felt his strong hand grab the back of your head. “Gonna use that pretty mouth of yours for something useful, yeah?” Sukuna grinned, watching how easily your lips parted, tongue sticking out. His other hand grabbed his shaft, inching closer just to side his tip across your wet tongue. The moment you tried to wrap your lips around his dick, he was pulling you back by the hair— ignoring the whine that you released.

“Impatient brat.” He murmured, instructing you to lay your tongue out. You obeyed, groaning the moment he tapped his dick against the muscle, shallowing fucking your open mouth with just the tip. After a few moments of the teasing, Sukuna was flicking his hips forward; enjoying the way tears sprung to your eyes, hands rising to press against his hips. With no care for your well-being, the vampire began to thrust in your wet cavern, your soft hair spilling through the gaps of his fingers as he gripped it.

Your tongue dragged across his shaft with each thrust into your mouth, eyes closed as you breathed heavily through your nose. The sound of your saliva, gagging, and wet thrusts carried in the room; your hand falling between your legs to rub your clit, moaning around his cock. Your jaw began to ache from the relentless thrusts, the combined mess surely tainting the bottom half of your face— concerns that you could care less about.

Sukuna watched you carefully, gripping your hair, enjoying the way your cheeks would puff with each thrust. The moment he noticed your hand however, he was shoving his cock deeper, leaning to snatch your wrist. You went to whine, the noise coming out as nothing more then a wet, jumbled mess. He grinned above you, continuing to fuck your throat; “Gonna cry about it? Go ahead.” Sukuna snickered, gritting his teeth the moment he felt his orgasm getting close.

His head tilted back, breathing as pink strands rested against his forehead. Sukuna’s hips never stopped, heavy balls slapping against your chin as his grip on your hair began to ache. “Fuck.. such a good fucking groupie, letting me use your mouth like this.” Sukuna teased, feeling the vibration of your moans around his length. He looked back down, pacing increasing, strings of groans and swears escaping him.

The vampire pumped inside your wet mouth a few more times before he was pulling out, making a mess on your face. His come covered your lips, cheeks, and glasses; you quickly sucking up air greedily, tongue gliding across your lips to lick away his mess.

You breathed as his hand found your chin, raising your face to get a good look at you. Sukuna was truly satisfied with his work, grinning down at you. His thumb wiped some of the milky liquid left on your cheek, moving over to your mouth and watching you lick and suck his digit clean. “Mm.. that’s a good girl.” He praised, withdrawing his thumb and pulling your glasses off shortly after.

His hand slid to your throat the moment he pressed your lips together, rising you up a bit while you held onto his wrist. Sukuna’s tongue invaded your mouth once again, making it an even bigger mess. Soon he pulled away, staring down at you.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and that attitude is no where to be seen. Maybe I shouldn’t..“ Sukuna was pulling away before you could even respond, reaching as if going to pull his pants up. “— looks like I already proved myself, right?” You quickly shook your head, reaching over to grab his wrists. The vampire laughed at this, coming closer to trap your form between him and the couch. “C’mon use your words, sweetheart. What exactly do you want?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring into his eyes. You were sure if you didn’t say anything in the next few seconds he would turn and exit the room, leaving you high and dry. You swallowed your pride, rising up higher to rest your hands onto his chest. “You. I need you so bad, Sukuna— please.” You gasped out, crumpling his shirt into your hands.

Sukuna listened to your pleas greedily, a permanent grin painted across his face. Just when you thought it didn’t work he was grabbing your shoulder, turning and pushing you to lay across the couch. Your heart beat fast against your chest, feeling the cushion dip as kneeled behind you. In one swift motion he was pulling your jeans and panties all the way down, revealing yourself to him.

The moment you tried to close your legs, his palm slammed against your ass; causing a cry to escape you, pressing your face into the cushion. “Don’t even try that. Wanted this so bad, you better fucking take it.” Sukuna hissed, grasping his length as he lined up with your fluttering entrance, carefully pushing in.

The stretch teetered between pleasurable and painful, rising onto your hands and gripping the cushions underneath you as you could do nothing but whine, body shaking. Sukuna sneered at your withering form, gripping your hips tightly. “‘M not even all the way in and you’re already losing yourself..” With a final thrust he was all the way in, resting deep inside your messy pussy, stretching you so pretty. You cried out the moment his fingers gripped your hair, pulling you into a deep arch whilst hovering over body, lips brushing your ear.

“Still think I ain’t no different then a human man?”

“Fu..fuck you.” You whimpered out, breathing heavily the moment he adjusted his hips.

Sukuna snickered softly, “You already are, princess.” With the continued grip on your hair he was pulling his hips back until only the tip was inside, slamming back in. The movement caused your body to lurch forward, gasping out and greedily sucking the air back up. You opened your mouth to speak, shutting up the moment another thrust racked through your body.

And another.. and another.. and another—

His pace was relenting from the start, fucking you so harshly your body bumped against the arm rest of the couch; nails digging into the cushions as shameless moans escaped you. Each time you attempted to pull away, to run— he was grabbing you back, slapping your thighs, ass, anything he could reach. All while speaking to you in that mocking tone, ridiculing you.

“Had so much to say yet you’re running..”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, the thought melting away as his thrusts ruined you. His cock dragged against your walls, fucking each and every thought out of your mind; replacing them with him. Your eyes were pinched close, drawls of his name and moans escaping your swollen lips. “Su—sukuna, fuck..!” You cried out, feeling yourself get close.

Sukuna’s hands kept a tight grip on your hips, bottom lip caught between his sharp fangs the moment you began to fuck back against him. Your ass shook with each bounce, the man zoned in on the erotic display. Fuck, you felt so good, way too good. The man sucked his teeth, hand falling to your ass cheek and slapping one, thrusting harder than before. “Greedy fucking pussy, clenching me so damn tight..” He dragged, a groan rumbling in his chest.

Tears sprung to your eyes, head going slack as a loud cry escaped you, creaming all over his length. The mess trickled down to his balls and the couch, soaking the cushion. Your tired body went slack against the furniture, feeling his thrusts slow, but never stop. A sudden tight grip on your hair had your reeling, whining as he pulled you back.

“I’m not fucking done with you.”

The vampire wasted no time and flipping you onto your back, pulling you down by your thighs and pushing them up to sink deeper inside you. Your hands clung to his wrists, crying out at the slight burn the stretch left you. You were given no time to think, the man resuming his fearsome thrusts at a completely different angle, ramming agonist a spot inside you that caused you to completely lose your mind.

Your hands went slack, lips agape as babbles and moans escaped your raw throat. Your eyes were meeting the back of your skull, makeup a mess with wet dark streaks running down your chubby brown cheeks. Sukuna enjoyed the sight completely, eyes flicking between your face and the way his cock slid inside your pretty pussy, the white foamy mess coating his length.

He leaned over your body, legs now held up by his shoulders as he continued to fuck you. “What a mess you are.” The man hissed, hand reaching to grab your chin. “Can’t even think straight can you? I’m fucking you too dumb huh?” He mocked, your sweet moans music to his ears.

Your hands rose to his back, gripping his shirt for leverage as you came again, painting his lower body with your mess. Sukuna laughed softly at this, still fucking you despite just orgasming. “Claimed you weren’t a fang-banger yet here you are, coming all over my dick. Such a liar, (Y/N).”

Your whines didn’t go unnoticed, the man’s hand falling to your waist and lifting you up a bit, drilling into you. His cock pushed against your cervix, the pain melting with each thrust inside. You barely even registered his fangs pressing against your skin until they entered your collarbone, a strangled whine escaped you.

The man sucked the crimson droplets that released from the wound, blunt fingernails digging into your skin; Sukuna slowly getting drunk off your taste. When he had his fill he was pulling away, licking up the residue and sealing the wound. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck, lifting your head from the couch to lock lips; the metallic taste of your blood causing you to groan— all while continuing to jackhammer into you.

The vampire was right, he was fucking the attitude out of you. You so pliable, gripping onto him as if he was a lifeline and you were in the open sea. Your legs were trembling, pussy clenching and clenching, as he swallowed the sweetest moans with his lips tainted with your blood. A fucking mess you were.

His mess, obviously.

A different type of clench entered your stomach, one that caused your eyes to fly open. You pulled back from the kiss to cry out, gripping him tightly. “Wa—wait, Sukuna— hah…— please slow down!” You somehow managed out, hazy eyes staring up at the clear distaste resting on his features.

He didn’t listen, slamming into you roughly, swatting the hand away that went to press against his hips. Sukuna tutted at the whine that escaped you, drilling you deeper and deeper into the furniture. “Make another mess, ruin this fucking couch.” He hissed, feeling his own end growing close.

You tried to hold it back, back arching from the cushions as black filled streaks continued to glide down your cheeks. Soon enough you could no longer contain yourself, the band snapping inside you as you screeched in pleasure; drenching the cushions underneath you, making a complete mess of the both of you.

Sukuna grinned at this, far too caught up in his own pleasure to release a snarky comment. Instead his face fell to your neck, thrusts becoming uncoordinated before he shoved himself deep, flooding you with his come.

The sound of your pants entered the space, your hands continuing to hold onto Sukuna. Your head fell back against the couch, eyes pinched closed and focused on regaining your breath.

Moments passed before the vampire rose, pulling his hips back, shushing the sensitive whine that escaped you. Once no longer inside, Sukuna’s hands dragged down to spread you more, watching pearly white beads trickle from your opening and down to your taint. The man smirked just a tad, eyes carrying back to your tired face.

“Looks like you’re a fang-banger now.” Sukuna spoke, watching you attempt at a frustrated face which melted away the moment his thumb slid across your slit.

“Fuck, Sukuna.. I’m too sensitive right now.” You whimpered, shying away from his touch. You gasped as he gripped your thighs however, dragging you farther down the couch.

Sukuna leaned over your body, resting on a forearm placed above your head. “You have seven minutes sweetheart.”

You rose an eyebrow at his words, adjusting yourself, “For what?”

The vampire grinned, curling a piece of hair around his finger. “If you thought I was gonna stop there, I fucked you far too dumb. I’m getting rid of that attitude permanently, remember?”

Your eyes widened, excitement and fear bubbling inside you. The man leaned down, stealing your lips in a deep kiss.

You were thankful you thought to send a text message to your best friend to leave when she wanted, given you didn’t leave the room until the bar closed.

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3