#draw the double chin and fat face and the way the arms are fat and how it all hangs and etc etc...

[hattiestgal]

If you don't mind my asking, how do you go about drawing fat? :3

JUST THE EXCUSE I WAS LOOKING FOR

So, for me personally, a lot of the time when I draw fat characters, I'm not looking to specifically capture the specifics of fat as much as the feel of fat. Bulkier, rounder shapes in the right places that has a feeling of weight to em! A lot of that is intuition and simplification at this point, but it all works on the same frame as just any ol' person. Like take this-

For example. This is the basis for any body shape, not just the more average one that it may imply. Sure- it can be that average body shape:

But also a fat one too!

And a big part of that is knowing where fat usually tends to bunch up on the body, so lets take a look piece by piece! (Please keep in mind this is very simplified, and not completely precise in some parts)

THE FACE: Cheeks (in purple) and especially the chin (in light blue) are the places where a lot of the fat is gonna wanna gather and round out on your face! Additionally, theres a small pocket of fat beneath the cranium on the backside of your head. It's small, but it is there. I believe fat can build up elsewhere like the bridge of your nose and forehead, but generally speaking, you're gonna have a whole lot more buildup in other places first.

THE TORSO: A lot of the fat built up on the torso is gonna be sent to your tummy. More cushioning for vital organs, mostly out of the way, it just makes sense. Additionally, the lower backs fat builds up and joins with a patch of fat on your sides that forms what is typically referred to as the love handles to make that double belly look. Along with this, the immediate next target for the torso is the breasts, followed by the upper back!

THE ARMS: For this limb, a VERY notable amount of the fat present builds up on the tricep and bicep areas, lessening once you get towards the flexor and extensor areas. You can almost think of the arm as a sort of triangular shape, wide side starting from the shoulder and tapering towards the hand, which itself mostly builds up fat around the back of the hand and the fingers. The shoulders themselves don't build up too much fat unless you got a lot

THE LEGS: And finally, you can think of the legs having pretty similar curves to what you're probably already used to thinking. The front of the thighs getting a big buildup, along with the back of the calves, the other parts being flatter in turn. As far as the feet go- similarly to the hands, the top of the feet, along with the heels get most of the buildup, as fat on your soles would impede mobility. The glute, hip and crotch area will also especially build up fat, lending to the same triangular shape that you can see in the arm!

A big thing to note with fat is that it tends to taper off towards joints. Your knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and all the other places are gonna have significantly less fat so that you remain mobile and flexible, as that's important!

Now that we have an idea of where fat builds up on the body, you might have something that looks kinda like this

Which yes, does demonstrate a solid understanding of the places fat builds up, lacks the weight you're probably trying to convey, which brings us to out next point! Fat is well... heavy! Gravity is what gives fat much of it's shape, especially as you tread towards larger and larger bodies.

This is demonstrated really well on the arms especially-

Those big ol' bits of fat'll really start to sag when left hanging, and they will squish like hell if they run into something. I like to think of these bits of fat as big ol' ovals that squash and stretch depending on if there's an obstacle in their way or not

These are the important shapes to remember when it comes to the weightiness of fat! If you take all of this into mind, you should be getting something a lot closer to that shape you've been after!

Oh, and always remember that fat bodies come in all variety of shapes and sizes! Play around with a whole lot, and seek out all the resources you can! it'll really lend to your knowledge when it comes to this kinda stuff!

And as I always recommend when it comes to learning art- look at what your favorite artists do with fat bodies. See what you really like about the fat bodies they draw and try to replicate it in your own work, I promise you it's one of the most helpful things ever.

This is like the most basic of basics when it comes to drawing fat bodies though. If there's any additional thing about fat bodies, or maybe you want clarification on something, don't be afraid to ask! If there's enough to cover, I'll make an addition to this post!

#hat answers #my art #design talk #tutorials #yeah im unfortunately pretty tired so this gets a liiiitle rambly at the end but i think this covers like the basic basics #i hope this was helpful at all #and again dont be afraid to ask questions and stuff #if theres enough traction/questions on this i will most definitely try to clear up as much as i can in an addition to the post #whoops this took a bit!

[creation-help]

My tiny go-to drawing tips I use personally

- Ears are as long as the BOTTOM OF THE NOSE and THE EYEBROWS. The ears come BETWEEN THOSE. Give or take facial proportions.

- Fat and skin folds. It folds over bones, it piles over itself. All positions affect this. Huge huge benefit to all your anatomy is to learn to draw fat according to gravity. The human body has way more folds than you might initially think, adds just a touch of realness to put a few here and there

- There's different eyelid shapes and they can easily be drawn on by just a few lines above or next to the eye.

- Soft parts you might not think about but do squish: noses, cheeks, anything around the eyes (The appearance of eyes is affected by squish!), ears, necks, the fat under the jawline (even on thin people there's a layer that can and will double chin-ify itself), LIPS and MOUTHS, arms, back of the neck, WRISTS

- Hands are probably bigger than you think. The average human palm w/ the fingers spread can reach the size of the whole face. Hand is damn near as long as one's face, from chin to forehead.

- Nose! Bridge! Scrunches! Remember SCRUNCHES

- The chin can in fact come as far front as the nose. Some noses may be longer and pointier, some chins may be more protruding.

- There's usually if not always a small dent under the lower lip, right between it and the chin. Especially so for bigger lips!

- Hair isn't as heavy as you might think (Except things depending on texture such as locs!!), and will drape and stick to fabric or skin easily

#Art tips #Artblr #Art advise #Anatomy #Artist tips #artist inspiration

[finniestoncrane]

You got any more ideas on the other rogues (any rogues, specially Harvey) who like a thicker girl??? 💕🍑

mhmmmmmmmmm YEP because there's nothing stopping me from insisting that all of these men are weak in the knees for a literal fuckin marshmallow of a woman (tastes sweet, looks soft and round) 💚

healing fat girl problems one scenario with a criminal at a time, if there are any rogues i didn't get to let me know and i can try my best!

minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff

scarecrow

someone get this man a big tiddy goth girlfriend, STAT. he uses the word plump a lot there's something classic and gothic about it to him. he's into white knuckle clinging and he can sink his fingers into every bit of you with ease so your body is a literal playground for him. there's not a bit of you he hasn't tried to taste or bite, and he finds it absolutely insane how much he enjoys pressing himself into you, between your thighs, your butt cheeks, your breasts. something about being enveloped in warm skin makes him feel safe and calm.

penguin

chubby power couple of gotham alert. he worships the ground you walk on and NEEDS to be seen with you, like you're a bit of a trophy and he loves showing you off. he's so happy just to have you on his arm and sharing his umbrella with him. also, it helps with his own self-image, being able to see obvious beauty in someone his shape and size makes him more confident. also, as someone who desires status and places a lot on his cumulative resources, someone who is large gives him a sense of value in you, that you're worth a lot more because there's more of you.

two face

there's something insanely glamorous about a plus size woman in a silk dress. y'know the way that silk kind of clings to the stomach and highlights the belly button and the shape of all the lumps and bumps HNG omg. and that's probably what would draw him to someone in the first place. he's quite aggressively complimentary, and if you were ever to say something slightly mean about yourself on a bad day, he would be ready with a retort. don't like the way your thighs chafe when you walk? that's fine, you can spend the rest of your life in bed with your legs spread for him. think your boobs are too big and maybe saggy? less effort for him to be able to put his face between them when you're on top. feel iffy about your double chin or neck one day? please remember that it's easier on his hand when he's choking you, which is one of his favourite things to do.

harley quinn

harley would absolutely find a chubby gal to be the cutest, most adorable thing ever. like she'll consider you a little stuffed animal that she is fiercely protective of. she'll squeeze your chubby cheeks and call you puddin' and she'll put a lot of effort into making you a matching outfit that shows off your curves. she's a tits gal for sure, but she loves prodding all of your lumpier bits and squealing over how CUTE you are.

bane

no matter how big you are, you're smaller than him and he likes to remind you of that by petting your head and treating you like a delicate angel. also, this might just be a me thing, but i missed out on being lifted and carried as a fat girl, but he's SO STRONG. forget about walking anywhere ever again, he's carrying you in his big strong arms. he's so aware of how hard his body is, it's nice to have something soft and squishy to hold against him. ALSO ass man ass man ASS MAN loves smacking it and watching it jiggle

poison ivy

your body and the way your curves flow make her think about the curves of flower stems, or the way that vines will curl and wave to find their way to the light. if you have stretch marks, she likes to stoke them and comments that they remind her of delicate petals with the lines that are on them, like hydrangeas. she's absolutely obsessed with thick legs, thighs and calves, because how are you not constantly arousing yourself by getting to walk around on those sturdy stalks god damn. she literally pictures you like an oil painting, cherubic, soft and dewy, literally surrounded by wildflowers at all times. she can swear she smells them when you walk past her.

#finnie writes #batman #fanfic #scarecrow #jonathan crane #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #harvey dent #two face #anon #friends being friends #harleen quinzel #harley quinn #pamela isley #poison ivy #bane #eduardo dorrance #rogues #rogues gallery

[boiled-dennis]

i'm just so tired of people in fandom making art of fat characters, but not even bothering to try to properly draw fat people. people gush about these characters but then draw them having thin faces and defined jaws, double chin magically gone. not to mention limbs (most often arms) and hands being really disproportionate and looking like they belong to a thin person.

practice !! you don't have to post all things you ever draw. you can practice drawing fat people and it's okay if it looks bad at first. but it disgusts me so much to see people talking about loving a character so much, and then not even properly drawing them. consistently. it's disrespectful as hell.

and then with art that intends to portray the fat character in a sexy way, the waist is often narrowed for no reason at all. i've seen many people act like it's more 'tasteful' to draw fat people as "thicc" rather than just.... fat.... like do you actually care about the character? is the reality of the character something that is important to you? do you care about real human beings? it sends a message when you draw characters this way. other fat people will see the art and think "wow yet another person in this community who doesn't give a shit about fat people". not to mention how it disrespects the actual actors.

also using the word "chubby" is not as neutral and Kind as you seem to think it is. it feels infantilising and like you're too scared to admit you're attracted to -gasp- Fat people so you have to use a playful word that implies not a great amount of body fat., dont call people squishy. and there feels like a specific trend of saying fat people look kind and like they'd give nice hugs can i just say that feels very dehumanising and kinda objectifying .

#hardly ever rant about this stuff but i have just. been trying to look at various fan art #and i am met with shitty art that simply baffles me #i'm not huge on fandom stuff or being involved at all. but this makes me want to never see community contributions again #i hate the hipocrosy of people being all Woww look at guillermo he's such a rare example of a well written fat character #and being legitimately portrayed as attractive and cool #and then they......... draw him in such scary unrecognisable Skinny ways . . #it's not offensive to recognise and portray a character/actor's double chin and stomach ..! #it's horrible and gross when you avoid drawing it properly 👍 youre embarrassing #and dear god please remember fat is distributed not Only in the face and stomach.... fat people generally don't have defined clavicles.... #it's on the shoulders too. and on the back. and remember not to draw the legs scarily long just because it looks disproportionate to you #that's one of the really common mistakes i've noticed. people draw fat people with scary long legs #and like. the thighs touch each other all the time. this isn't the sims 4 okay it's basically impossible for fat people to have thigh gaps

[nerdyafwriting]

Dickdami backing up this fic I posted as a thread on bird app thread just in case.

Also I made some art (one with wig, one without)

Rated E

Summary: Dick should have realized that purchasing a disguise for Damian was a bad idea before the kid put it on. Who can blame him for finding Damian's skirt as distracting as their targets?

CW: nsfw, underage Damian (age ambiguous), Dick realizes he's a perv for his little brother

It took Dick far too long to realize he had made a mistake. Maybe he had completely lost it. That was truly the only explanation for the fact that he had gone to a store to pick out the outfit that Damian was now wearing as he lounged in the leather office chair in the study.

Though Dick had been determined that dragging Damian to this party dressed like this would help them catch the group of creeps that was kidnapping Gotham's children, Dick wasn't sure he was qualified to catch pedophiles anymore.

Not with the way he was eyeing the skin that was exposed from Damian propping his legs up on the desk.

Fortunately, his thoughts were broken when Alfred rapped on the open door.

"Ready when you are, Master Richard," he announced, before turning to return to the limo.

"So, are we going or not?" Damian asked, crossing his arms and leaping to his feet. Even in heels, he landed elegantly on his feet and it struck Dick for not the first time that the kid was not at all unlike a cat.

"Hurry up. You said yourself that these perverts deserve to be in jail. We shouldn't waste any time."

Damian's heels clicked against the ground as he walked past him, following after Alfred as Dick buried the lower half of his face in his hand.

He knew Damian was only repeating words that Dick himself had said. But that was before his eyes lingered on Damian's legs as he walked out the door. Assuming they caught these guys, Dick deserved to go to jail with them.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Dick closed his eyes, hoping he could wipe the image from his eyes before he caught up with Damian.

Unfortunately for him, he caught him as he was sliding into the back seat of the car, his skirt catching on the door and flipping up to reveal the straps of a garter belt holding up thigh high lace stockings.

Dick cleared his throat as he climbed in after him, reaching over to smooth Damian's skirt down only to have his hand smacked away.

Damian tugged his skirt into place, covering his thighs and leaning an elbow against the door so he could rest his chin in his hand. Dick couldn't stop the smile that tugged up at the corners of his lips as his eyes dragged over the outfit shamelessly.

Dick's hand moved to Damian's cheek, brushing his thumb along the bone and pushing his hair back behind his ear. It was only a wig —Dick knew— styled in ringlet curls.

The blunt ends grazed Damian's jawline, softening the angles of his face and drawing out the baby fat that still sat on each of his cheeks as he turned to scowl at Dick, shaking his head so the curls fell back into place.

"Do you *want* to blow my cover?" Damian hissed, pulling out a compact and patting down flyaways.

Dick heaved a sigh, leaning into his own door and looking out the window.

As the countryside rolled into the edge of the city, Dick finally felt the need to get into character. He straightened his jacket, double checked that he still had a wad of cash tucked into his pocket.

He'd dabbed a bit of makeup on his face, disguising himself enough for this particular mission. If the rumors were true, his disguise didn't matter that much. Too many familiar names were on the list of suspects.

As long as they both played their roles, there would be little question about Dick's current character. Which was turning out to be much less of a character and much more of a demented personality flaw.

His eyes drifted over to Damian again, this time catching him unaware.

He looked more relaxed than usual, even as Dick could tell he was scanning each street they passed with a watchful eye. Even if he saw anything, there wasn't much they could do about it at the moment. At least not without blowing their cover.

It wasn't more than half an hour before they arrived at their destination, but the seconds dragged on like minutes. As incredible as Damian looked, at the end of this car ride, Dick was going to have to share him.

An inevitability that he was even less prepared for than he had been to see Damian dressed like this in the first place.

—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—

Damian crossed his legs at the knee, leaning back into the leather seat cushions with a sigh. His gaze was focused everywhere except the person he'd agreed to partner with on this mission.

The outfit made him feel confident, and he felt himself sitting up a little taller in his seat because of it, wriggling in anticipation as the car slowed to a stop. Despite his confidence, he was playing a part.

The part of someone whose reason for wearing a frilly skirt and gloves had less to do with power and more to do with the absence of it. He told himself that was the only reason he accepted the hand Dick was offering as he crawled across the back seat of the car.

Dick never pulled his hand away, so Damian saw no reason not to keep their fingers loosely woven together as they talked toward the modestly-sized mansion. At least, modest in comparison to Wayne Manor.

Dick's hand lingered on Damian's lower back as he climbed the stairs to the front door, and for a few moments he imagined that he really was as delicate as his ensemble made him feel.

As they made their way into the smoke-filled parlor where a handful of men at least a decade older than his father sat puffing cigars, Dick's hand slid to his hip to pull him closer, squeezing hard enough that Damian wondered if he would give himself away.

Dick led Damian around the room with one hand as the other shook hands with men who's eyes trailed up and down Damian's figure. He knew he looked good, but it didn't make him any less eager to arrest these men.

From the hand that gave him a squeeze before reluctantly letting him go so the men could get a good look at him, Dick was equally eager to make it to the climax of their evening.

But to get there, they needed to gather evidence. The most difficult part of Damian's role proved holding the contents of his stomach down as each of the men looked him over. His cheeks warmed as he imagined Dick eyeing him just as hungrily where he stood behind him.

When voice directed him to turn around, he met Dick's eyes to see for himself. What he saw instead was his fierce gaze watching carefully for any signs of a threat. Damian raised a brow when he caught his eyes.

For the first time since they'd walked in the door, Damian felt like they were the only two in the room. Dick looked good like this —in a new suit he'd never seen him in before that gripped his hips in a way Damian had only imagined doing.

As pleasant as the moment was, all the blood drained from Damian's face as he felt a hot hand hovering near his ass. Almost as quickly as it caught his attention, Dick's silhouette came as a blur, pushing in front of him.

Wobbling more than he cared to admit on his heels, Damian stepped back and caught himself on his feet as the sound of skin hitting skin filled the hazy room.

Whatever character Damian had built since entering the building was gone in seconds. Dick threw the first punch, but there was no keeping in character after that. "I was doing perfectly, there was no reason to interfere, "Damian shouted as his fist collided with one of the men's faces, taking out the anger he felt toward Dick on the face at the end of his fist. "I would have evaded him on my own."

By the time they were finished throwing punches, they found a folder full of photos and names that were incriminating enough on their own. The police could deal with these assholes. Damian had more important things to deal with.

He only wished that they had driven themselves, so he could beat Dick to the driver's seat and speed off, leaving him behind to find his own way.

It wouldn't change the fact that he'd gotten all dressed up for nothing more than they could have gotten in his uniform, but at least Dick would feel a fraction of his frustration.

Instead, Damian threw the door open, sliding across the seat to the opposite side and resting his chin in his hand as he watched the city fade to countryside.

Damian's rage simmered until he felt Dick's hand as it slid across the leather. The moment Dick's knuckles brushed his, Damian's well-contained rage boiled over.

Turning fast enough that his curls smacked the window as he shot a death glare at Dick, he seethed at him for a long second before pulling his hand out of his grasp.

"If you merely wanted to see me in this attire," Damian growled as the limo rolled to a stop. "We never should have left the manor." The door clicked as Damian tugged it open, stepping out onto the driveway and slamming the door behind him.

—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—

Dick's mouth hung open, a response dying on his tongue as he watched Damian storm up the front steps.

"It sounds like that went better than expected," Alfred said, raising a brow as he met Dick's eyes in the rearview mirror.

Dick let out a defeated sigh in response, opening his own door and following Damian inside.

He made his way toward Damian's room, prepared to knock on his door, but on the way there he passed his own door, which hung ominously open.

Knowing exactly who it was, he wasn't cautious enough as he slipped in. The door slammed closed behind him Damian crashing down on top of him and pushing him to the floor, his knees hitting the wood on either side of Dick's hips.

"You're a coward, Grayson," Damian hissed, cutting Dick off from the speechless stammer that would have otherwise spilled from his lips if they hadn't been subsumed by Damian's.

Dick's hands grasped for purchase on the nearest thing they could find —which just happened to be Damian's thighs. The pads of Dick's thumbs pressed into the snaps of Damian's garter straps, toying with them under his thumb as Damian flicked his tongue against Dick's.

Their bodies sought each other out instinctively. The part of Dick's brain that should have told him to stop turned off before he'd opened the door, even if what happened after came as a surprise.

As much as he wanted to continue —his cock throbbing to full hardness, filling out the twill his pants were made from and straining against his zipper— there were more important matters at hand.

Using every ounce of willpower in his body, Dick dragged his hands away from Damian's thighs, smoothing his skirt over them before placing his hands on either side of Damian's waist, helping him sit up on his knees.

Damian's brow creased, pushing his weight against Dick, but in the end he was sitting up on his knees, his skirt fanned out across Dick's thighs, hiding the satin panties that were barely hiding his growing erection.

"Let me see you," Dick gasped out, smiling as he indulgently dragged his gaze over the embroidery that decorated Damian's apparel.

Damian's eyes rolled up to the ceiling, letting out a frustrated huff and a pout even as he sat up a little taller on his knees.

"Do you even know how gorgeous you look like this?" Dick asked, slightly awestruck as he sat up, his hands darting out to steady Damian's hips as he dove forward. His hands slid up Damian's back, pressing his shoulder blades against the door and kissing the hollow of his throat.

"Of course you do," Dick breathed against Damian's skin, answering his own question. A growl escaped as he nibbled the tender flesh of his throat.

Dick's fingers toyed with the hem of Damian's skirt before bypassing it entirely, sliding his hand across his bare thigh and dipping his hands under the garter belt to tug the waistband of his panties down. Their lips connected in a mess of teeth and tongues.

Sucking Damian's tongue into his mouth, Dick's palms kneaded the exposed flesh of his ass. Even though they were still on the floor, there was nowhere in the world Dick would rather be.

Damian broke the kiss first, glaring at Dick with half-lidded, hazy eyes, his tongue darted out to clean the spit from his lips as he pushed at Dick's shoulder.

"Don't just leave me here on the floor, you twit. At least take me to the bed before removing my undergarments!"

Dick let out a breathy laugh, lifting Damian as he pushed himself easily to his feet, carrying him past the bed and depositing him into his office chair. It was that first sight of him in Bruce's chair like this that left Dick unable to resist him. It was only fair.

"Better, your highness?" Dick asked, dropping to his knees at Damian's feet and nuzzling his knee with his cheek to encourage him to open his thighs.

Damian rolled his eyes and spread his legs as he was directed, blessing Dick with a view unlike any he could have prepared for.

Dick's eyes stayed fixed on the exposed skin hiding under Damian's skirt as his thumbs popped the straps holding his stockings up one at a time, letting them snap against his skin in favor of tugging his panties the rest of the way down his legs and over the heels.

His breath caught in his chest as he drank down the full view of Damian like this —leaned back in the chair, his legs splayed carelessly, as his chest rose and fell with each breath.

It wasn't until he lifted Damian's ankle onto his shoulder, spreading his legs just a bit wider, that he saw the sparkle of something he would have chalked up to a trick of the light in any other situation.

In this one, however, he was determined to investigate. One palm slid over the sheer fabric of Damian's stocking as it trailed up the underside of his leg, crowding the space under Damian's skirt between his ass and the chair.

He gave one cheek a gratuitous squeeze, his middle finger darting out and only half expecting to feel the smooth edge of crystal under his fingertip. Dick's breath hitched, his finger pressing into the stone.

"This wasn't part of the deal," he said.

Fuck, this kid was going to be the death of him, he thought as he gave a testing press to the plug and drawing out a gasp from Damian in the process.

Damian shot a glare down at the man kneeling between his knees.

"I fully committed to the role," Damian explained, managing to keep his voice steady despite the way Dick's middle finger was toying with the rounded cut of the gem. "I do not need you to tell me how to deliver."

Dick couldn't help the affectionate smile that teased the corners of his mouth.

"And you performed beautifully," Dick said, his thumb brushing back and forth across Damian's inner thigh, teasingly close to the cock that was beginning to tent against his skirt.

"Let me make it up to you for cutting your performance short," he offered, pushing Damian's skirt up and brushing the pad of his thumb along the underside of his cock. It felt so small under Dick's large hand as his hand wrapped around him, stroking him to full hardness.

Damian's hips trembled and his hands flew to Dick's hair as he wrapped his lips around the tip, his tongue swirling around his slit and gathering precum on his tongue.

"I won't forgive you so easily," Damian warns, but little gasps spill out as Dick sucks him into his mouth.

Damian's cock doesn't quite hit the back of Dick's throat and there's more than enough room for him to flick his tongue along the bottom, moaning as he nuzzles against Damian's tummy.

A few more expert swirls of his tongue and Damian's gasps drag out into groans, his hands tugging at Dick's hair and drawing an eager hum from around Damian's cock.

"Wait —fuck— it's too much..." Damian's pleading now, but Dick doesn't stop.

He knows Damian will only be more pliant once he cums once, and Dick is determined to have him like putty in his hands. Damian eventually gives up trying to pull Dick away, his hips trembling as he seeks out more each time Dick slides his lips up to suck on the head.

Dick is painfully hard from the combination of sensations. Damian's skirt pooling against his stomach, the taste of precum pooling on his tongue from having his baby brother's cock in his mouth.

And its not much longer before he has Damian's cum streaking across his tongue as he cries out. Then, Damian's hands are in his hair again, trying to pull away.

"It's too much," he whines, wriggling back into the chair only for Dick's mouth to follow.

He sucks until he hears Damian sob from overstimulation. Letting Damian's length slip free from his lips, his tongue traces over the sac, which twitches against Dick's tastebuds as he makes his way to Damian's perineum and then down to his hole.

Damian is hiding his noises behind grit teeth as Dick lifts his hips and pushes his tongue against the tight ring of muscle. His tongue explores the new sensation, learning which prods make Damian quiver and purr.

When Dick glances up in time to catch Damian's hand flying to his face, the back of his hand covering his mouth, Dick doubles down on his efforts, his teeth scraping against sensitive skin as Damian's heels dig into his shoulder blades.

All of it feels so much better than it should.

Dick shouldn't enjoy defiling his little brother like this, but suddenly he has an overwhelming need to see the kid's bare thighs streaked with his cum.

Dick kisses Damian's thighs as he leans back, reaching for the lube he keeps next to his bed and pumping his hand full before returning to rest his cheek on Damian's thigh, his damp fingers seeking out his flexed entrance.

"You've gotta relax, babe," Dick murmurs, the kisses he presses against Damian's thighs to reassure him offered with a chaste innocence that hardly matches the invasive prod of his fingers.

"Do you want me to stop?" Dick asks, his voice gentle. It's a bluff, but Damian shakes his head anyway, the curls of his wig bouncing in the process. "Then breathe for me." That suggestion seems to help as Damian relaxes enough for Dick's middle finger to push inside.

They both moan as he does, and Dick's pants feel tighter than ever as he drags his finger back, memorizing the locations that draw breathy pants from Damain.

"You look so good like this, Dami..." he murmurs. "Too good for those pervs." Nevermind that Dick was just as bad.

It was, after all, him who walked into a store and shopped for the dress that still looked pristine from the waist up, even as under the skirt, Dick worked another finger in alongside the first.

"This wasn't the only one I bought, you know," Dick said, catching the way Damian's eyes widened at the admission. He curled his fingers forward and Damian's mouth fell open in a silent cry.

"Right there?" He asked, and the way Damian's cock dripped at the motion was all the agreement he needed. He swirled his fingers around Damian's prostate, drawing a strangled moan.

"Just get on with it already," Damian growled, pulling his legs in toward his chest as his hands gripped the crook of his knees, holding himself open in a lewd display that had Dick cursing under his breath.

"Fuck, okay," Dick said, unfastening his pants with one hand as the other stood ready to lube up his cock as soon as it sprung free from the confines of his zipper.

As he drags his cock across his hole, it occurs to him that Damian might not quite be as ready as he seems.

"Are you sure—" he starts, but Damian cuts him off.

"Just put it in already!" Damian whines, grinding his hips and taking the tip in on his own.

Since there's no way in hell Dick can stop now, he wraps his hands around Damian's shoulders, rocking his hips forward. As Damian's heat engulfs him, Dick's not sure who the noises they make are coming from, but also doesn't care.

Their bodies fit together better than they should, in Dick's opinion, Damian's arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a wet kiss.

Damian clawed at the hair at Dick's nape, whimpering against his lips as the new angle trapped his cock between their torsos. Dick's thrusts grew more desperate, his teeth sinking into Damian's bottom lip as he groaned.

He wasn't ready for this to be over yet, but the tension building in his gut told him he didn't have a choice. Damian's cock twitched between them, shooting an impressive amount of cum for his second round onto Dick's button down, but he didn't care.

For the first time, he understood why Bruce kept his old uniform in a glass case. That every time he looked at it, he must recall tugging their uniforms aside as they desperately rocked against each other. Dick would do the same with Damian's little dress if he let him.

Just like he'd promised, there was plenty more where it came from. Maybe next time he would even take Damian with him to pick out a few of his own. Though he wasn't sure they would make it out of the store if their present situation was any indication.

Damian felt limp in his arms as his head fell to Dick's shoulder.

"Doing so good for me, I'm so close," he murmured into Damian's hair. He was apparently not entirely out of it yet, since he tightened around Dick, milking his orgasm out of him with his soft little hole.

That was all it took before Dick was spilling inside him as Damian clung to the back of his shirt. Dick swore he saw stars in his eyes as he came down.

"You're way too good at that," Dick said, letting out a laugh under his breath as he stood, Damian still clinging to him.

Dick carried him to the bed so they could cuddle properly. Later, he would unfasten the buckles of Damian's heels and massage his ankles. He would roll the stockings down and kiss the soles of his feet. He would take that dress off one button at a time and buy a display case to put it in so he could remember this night every day for the rest of his life.

But for now, he would let the sound of Damian's breathing lull him into a comfort that his mind would undoubtedly replace with guilt the first second he was alone. For now, they were both happy.

#DickDami #fanfic #wip #fanart #oneshot #femboy

[gluttonygirls]

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?”

“People are staring.”

“Hurry up.”

Those are the words ringing in your ear as you walk along with Nue. The colossal girl you were dating was hardly one for physical exercise, but now you were starting to guess the motivations for why she was doing this. 

It wasn’t shocking that Nue would turn heads as she lumbered down the street. She was wider than she was tall, with hips that were monuments to her gluttony. Legs as wide as mouch couches were clapping together with every step, massive acres of fat colliding from every step she took. The swishing of her soft skin meeting together down to her ankles was a song singing praise to her weight. Swinging her hips back and forth, her mountainous ass quaking with every moment, it sent her jiggling waves up to her love handles. Her dress struggled to keep her decent, dark underwear just teasing over the hem of her skirt, but somehow it managed.

Having the massiveness of her lower half moving about sent jiggles up her sides. Her stomach quaked from it all, the apron of lard brushing the tops of her feet bounding with every step she took, her gargantuan legs crashing into it, pushing it along more with her own momentum and weight than any of the muscles in her waist. It bounced so far ahead of her that even if Nue wasn’t holding your hand, there was no way she could wrap her arms even halfway around it. It gurgled and sloshed softly as she moved along, straining and tugging her dress as it fought to tear free.

And while absolutely a bottom heavy bombshell, Nue’s chest was still enormous, still too big to meet her hands over them. In her dress they nearly bounced free, wobbling back and forth as they rested comfortably atop her belly. Perked up by her blubbery biceps squishing into their sides, it would be hard to tear your eyes away from that canyon of cleavage to star at her face. If you managed, a rounded face with a thick tire of a double chin would stare back.

One ribbon-esque wing came back to poke at your stomach, drawing a belch from your lips unbidden.

BBBBBBRRRRROOOOOAAAOOOORRRRPPPPPP!!!

“They’re all watching you know. Staring. Gawking. Wanting~. And the worst part of it all?”

“You really can’t help but make a show of yourself, can you~?”

And she’s right. None of the passersby staring at the two of you are focused on Nue. All of them are watching you. How you have to struggle to walk without your own calve fat squishing against your foot. How you’re so wide that your hips are knocking against the lampposts on one side of the sidewalk and the parked cars on the other. How your gut has a small skateboard placed under it to stop it from touching the ground, bigger than a ford focus on its own. How your tits have turned your dress into a tank top, only just keeping you decent.

How even know, as people point and stare, you still can’t stop from reaching into the top of ice cream nestled in your cleavage, scooping out a mound of it with your fat hand and shoving it in your face, just to stay cool. You whimper a bit at every photo, at every laugh, every blushing face, but Nue’s grin says more than all that.

She ruined you. You let her ruin you. That you could have stopped this at any time. Maybe you still could. But you won’t. You want this even now, and that’s why you let her tug you through the front door and down to the street.

Belching, huffing, and panting as you plodded along, your stomach bounded against Nue’s hips as she paused. Even at over a thousand pounds, you made the youkai seemed svelte next to your room filling mass. She flicks her long hair back with a wink, before waddling a step forward.

Lumbering up to the side of the ice cream truck that had parked in your neighborhood, the driver aghast at the two whales that had approached their cart, Nue pressed her stomach against the side of the truck. Dropping her breasts onto the counter, tit fat spilling over the entirety of it, Nue giggled.

“Now, I know there’s no way you didn’t see us coming... or hear us... or feel us...” She’s punctuating that with a stomp of her fat leg, the ground trembling slightly as she wobbled about. “So I suggest you get your ice cream ready. How much?”

You yelp as her fat hand reaches out to smack at your gut. It sloshes loudly, the buffet she had forced in you just minutes before taking you outside bounding about in your stomach. You clap a hand over your mouth to try and hold it back, but-

HHHHRRRROOOOAAAAAAUUUUPPPPP!!!

You can’t.

“Aw, hear that? The poor thing is starving. You know what, forget the ice cream cones and bars. Just hand me the biggest vat of the stuff you have, and I’ll help them out~”

You whimper, trying to say that you don’t want this, but when she gives you that look, the one she always gives when feeding you, the one she does as she presses her belly against your stomach, feeling how someone as colossal, monumental, monstrously gigantic as her feels so small...

You open wide, and let her 

#ic #Nue #long thing #PoV

[shockinglysubmissive]

Dabi x Overweight!Reader

Warnings: body image issues, self harm (scratching)

This is unedited and mainly a self insert cause I'm sad and deserve a bit of a pick me up so I don't lose motivation to keep exercising.

You side-eye yourself in the reflection of the window, seeing the way your double chin rounds your profile. Wrinkling your nose, you scan down to the way your shirt bunches under the rolls of your stomach. Under the long sleeves, you know your arms jiggle.

"Hey stupid. Are you going to just stand there checking yourself out? You're in my way." The gravely voice draws you out of your self loathing train of thought.

Any typical sarcastic comment fails to fall off your tongue, so you step out of his way. As he opens the door to the bar he looks back at you.

"Shiggy dust your tongue? What's gotten into you? You never just move. You've got a personality as big as your body." He calls over his shoulder.

His words hit like a truck, and a subtle gasp leaves your lips. Tears well in your eyes as you look back in the window.

"Now you're crying? What are you hungry? Toga gets all emotional when she's hungry." He shuffles his feet awkwardly towards you as he lets the bar door slam shut.

Your nails dig into the folds of your stomach. "I want to rip it off. I want it off my body." Your hands move to your face, clawing hard enough to draw blood on your cheeks.

Rough hands grip yours, and when your eyes meet Dabi's, you see fear.

"Don't do that. You'll look as scarred as I do. Just... Eat a salad... Or take a walk..." He grumbles, masking his fear behind his usual indifferent tone.

You try to pull your hands away, feeling too disgusting to touch, but his grip tightens.

"I'm trying. But my skin still sags. My stomach still hangs over my pants. My body looks blobby and disgusting." You yank helplessly, trying to free you hands.

"Did you expect it to happen over night? You're as dumb as you are attractive." He mutters, eyes trailing down your body.

You're too confused to speak, trying to process his words through your own self hatred.

"There is nothing wrong with some extra fat. Just gives me something to grip. And it makes a damn good pillow." He smirks.

"T-thank you?" You finally manage to speak, still processing the whole situation.

"Now, we are going inside and you're cleaning that scratch. Then I'll show you what is so fucking great about your size." He finally let's go of your hands.

#mha #mha drabble #bnha #bnha drabble #my hero acadamia #my hero academia drabble #boco no hero acadamia #boco no hero academia drabble #dabi #dabi drabble

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

What are your thoughts on pre serum Steve getting the good meds he needs and putting on some weight? Like, Bucky gets a well paying job and Steve’s art is going well and so he can get what he needs now, and they can eat decent food too.

So Steve eats, and eats and eats! His allergies and intolerances are manageable now, his body can digest most things for the first time, and he’s revelling in it… and gets pretty tubby as a result.

Round cheeks, slight second chin, perky tits and soft belly, thick thighs and arms and pudgy hands? Bucky’s obsessed with how soft his hands are, how round they look, how round he looks. He looks delicious, he looks well cared for and loved, he looks like plump, spoiled little prince and Bucky’s obsessed. (Also what if Steve does become a slight brat? Sugar Daddy Bucky maybe?)

Okay, so I read this the first time and was given slight, almost, your-eating-habits-finally-catch-up-to-you vibes. Almost ex-jock, like, your metabolism slows down and you finally put on weight and you probably put that weight on pretty fast 🥴🥴 and as enticing as that is:

Imagining that perhaps pre-serum Steve was eating a fuck ton to try and combat his chronic pain, subconsciously even, filling the pain and discomfort with sugar especially, but also whatever food he could get his hands on. Which only changes once his underlying conditions are treated, the meds he’s on slowing his hummingbird metabolism while his eating habits don’t really change on account of how overjoyed he is to be pain-free; food being used as a comfort and a celebration and gaining a truly impressive amount of weight as a result.

But...

That’s not this ask. And I really, really do like this idea!

I love this idea. 

I love the thought put into the fact that Steve probably/definitely had issues getting down and keeping down food. So, when his conditions are treated, he can put down food, keep food down, and enjoy the flavor and filling nature of food. Basically, re-discovering food and becomes unable to keep himself from overindulging. 

Can you imagine? 

Unbeta'd as usual. Warning for: belly kink, weight gain, stuffing, hand kink, slight humiliation, etc.

Bucky would love to lovingly tease Steve about it… how fast he’s growing. He would love to grab and pinch him...

Grabbing his face and squishing his lovely, newly round cheeks until Steve can’t help but squirm and turn bright red, lowering his head in an effort to get his blond bangs to cover his face, hiding from the embarrassment. But all it succeeds in doing, really, is making his double chin more obvious. Which is much, much better for Bucky 😳

Grabbing his perky tits all. the. time. Bucky would weekly, at least, grab his tits in his hands to measure how big they’re getting. How much of a handful are Steve’s tits this time? How sensitive are his nipples now that they’re bigger and softer? Growing along with the rest of him. How much effort does it take Bucky to find his collarbones under his new layer of fat? 

Pinching and grabbing his soft new belly… fuck... that might make Bucky cream his pants- the feeling of all those calories piling up around his waist. That concave stomach is long gone and replaced with a bowing out pot belly. And I mean a POT BELLY. His belly is disproportionate almost. Large enough that it shakes and jiggles and is visible from behind when Bucky (very occasionally) fucks him (Steve usually gets his fix of being stuffed through food, not dick). Or fucks those chubby thighs now that they not only meet in the middle - rather than there being a gap between his thighs - but also rub and get in the way of each other. Leaving Steve with a friction rash whenever it gets hot out and he’s been walking around in only his boxers as he paints, working from home.

Pinching his arms too, Bucky can’t help himself, he’ll come up to Steve when he’s drawing, shirtless more often than not with how fast he’s outgrown all his clothes (and continues to outgrow his new clothes, Jesus wept), and grab one of those bingo wings. Just because they were moving around, jiggling a little, as he reached for another pencil or another mid-work snack. It always makes Steve squawk. Bucky can’t stop himself though. His Steve. So fat that even his arms are fat!

Grabbing his hands too… yessss.

There’s this FANTASTIC fic on Archive “Show your teeth, Now play dead” by TyrantTirade (x) that is peak hand kink to me. Basically, it’s Bucky being a little submissive and a little bit of an attention seeker, wanting Steve’s whole hand in his mouth- because pre-serum Steve’s hand is small enough to fit in his mouth. It comes across as a little humiliating and in the spirit of fisting… just at the other end. Anyway, I love that fic. And that’s where my mind went with the hand thing...

Bucky sucking on Steve’s fingers or begging for Steve to try and fit his hand, now chubby with this weight gain, into his mouth? *shivers* 

I- 

I am obsessed with this thought. Also, it leads nicely into the bratty Steve angle. 

Like-

Bucky is on his knees, next to Steve’s spread legs, Steve’s belly is the only thing hanging between his thick thighs, not Bucky. Bucky wants to be there instead. But he's not, he's off the side of Steve's right leg. Watching. Waiting.

Bucky also so badly wants Steve to push his fingers into his mouth, not just to be between his legs, wanting his chubby little prince’s attention. Practically drooling for the attention. Today he feels a little neglected, craving to be paid as much attention as Steve pays to his food. Food that he’s eating. More. He’s eating even more than he usually does. Claiming to be extra hungry today...

Steve is Teasing Bucky intentionally (unbeknownst to Bucky) by stuffing himself from the time he woke up this morning to right now, there’s been something in his mouth every minute of the day it feels like, his stomach aches. He can feel new stretchmarks incoming. He can feel Bucky’s eyes on him like fire. As full of food as Steve is… Bucky is also that full of sexual frustration.

Steve has only spoken to Bucky today when he wants more food, but he doesn’t want to get up from where the weight of his fat, stretch-marked body is sinking into the couch. And Bucky is coming off of a week of long work hours, but now, during the weekend, he has just one thing on his mind.

He needs.

Bucky starts whining at some point. 

And to tease more, Steve looks down at him, feeling his double chin become exaggerated, oh god, asking, “what’s wrong down there?” 

Bucky sucks in a breath. There are crumbs on Steve’s face- crumbs from cookies? Some kind of bread? Crumbs are on his double-chin too. And on his fingers… there are smears of food. Some crumbs, but he’s been eating something with jam too. It’s smeared on his fingers, melting and sticky as he stuffed whatever had jam on it, in it, in his mouth. 

“Oh,” Steve plays dumb, barely hiding a smirk, “are you hungry, Buck?” 

Bucky is paralyzed in arousal. 

Steve takes his nonanswer as an actual answer. And. He shoves his fingers in Bucky’s gaped mouth, ordering him, “lick ‘em clean. Then maybe I’ll share some real food… depends on if we’ve got more food or not though, I am still a little hungry, and if we don’t…” he clicks his tongue, “maybe not. Maybe I won’t share. I’ve got more belly to fill than you, so I need more, don’t you think?” 

Bucky’s head is spinning, his mouth full of three, no, four fingers. Licking them clean, just like Steve ordered him to. But he can’t resist taking those fingers as deep into his mouth as he can too, sucking on them like he would Steve’s cock… his cock… his cock has got to be hard under the heft of his ever-growing belly but- his belly is in the way. Bucky can’t see if he’s hard.

It sends a greater rush through him for some reason.

He can’t tell if Steve is enjoying this or not! He... he could really only be thinking with his gut. He could only be focused on stuffing himself as full as he can be, until he can’t breathe and his belly is flushed red, packed tight enough to stress his skin. He might be more obsessed with food than with orgasming, Bucky might’ve trained him too well to be addicted to food and now he’ll have to walk around, always hard and ready to beg at the drop of a hat because his Steve looks so good! Fat and round! So good! But... so uninterested in anything that isn't food.

Lord.

That thought shouldn’t turn him on but… it does. It really does.

Bucky sucks harder at his fingers, nodding. Steve does need more. Steve needs more until he’s too fat to think about anything but being fat. Until he’s too fat to fuck. Too fat to fuck Bucky specifically (and again- why is that hot? God, he’s so fucking weird! But… nothing matters when it inspires so much arousal in him and he can’t focus on anything but getting more of it. More of the intoxicating feeling of being at his fat Prince's mercy). 

#ask #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #chubby steve #fat steve #pre serum steve

[beware-of-the-princess]

Having Ana as a plus-sized princess was always an important part of this project, but it certainly came with its complications. The first of which was that every artist collaborating on this project brought with them a different approach and level of experience with drawing big characters! Parts of this image look weird because it got warped, edited and partially redrawn quite a bit as Ana's look was fine-tuned and the artists tried new ways of drawing her- in particular drawing her bigness.

There were a great many tightropes we were trying to find balance on with Ana's size. Open any fantasy book and you're likely to find a beautiful but stuck-up princess... but very few of them are big. How many people would see Ana and assume we made her fat as a shorthand for being "ugly on the inside too"? Especially if we include details which usually aren't associated with beauty, like stretch marks or sag? This wouldn't be much a problem if Ana was the kind of fantasy character that is expected to have a rounded design, like a kindly, motherly lady-in-waiting, but Ana is the complete opposite!

We also didn't want to give Ana only the features that big women are "allowed" to have, like a curvy rear end or a full bust. We felt it was important to put emphasis on features that young women her age and size are pressured to feel the most insecure about. Ana's chubby arms or double chin don't impede her strutting into a room as she firmly believes a princess ought to: With absolute confidence that jaws will hit the floor in amazement.

But that last point just brings up yet another balancing act. While she might generally be an unstoppable juggernaut of confidence- to the extent where vanity is very much one of her flaws, we also didn't just want to have Ana be drawn big but otherwise completely ignore it. Anyone who grew up in the 90's remembers the slew of disabled characters who, despite being in wheelchairs or whatever, didn't have their disability affect their character in any way or face any challenges stemming from it. In the same way, we felt like it would be hollow to talk about representation and body positivity while failing to acknowledge any of the challenges that fat people (particularly women) face. There's a lot more to say about Ana and the other side of representation, but this post is already too long without going into neurodivergence.

With so many pitfalls to avoid, we included the following at the start of Ana's section of the big character document that we use to keep things consistent between collaborators:

Designing Ana has certainly been quite a process, and I think something that demonstrates that well is just how different she looks in this more recent picture which we've been using to play dress-up with her.

I also wanted to give a small acknowledgement of all the wonderful artists out there that who have shared their processes for drawing big characters or even just whose art has served as inspiration. There's too many to mention, but the names @mayakern @jijidraws and @sergle have come up over and over again while working on this.

P.S. If you want to use this to play dress-up with Ana yourself, then please feel free! I only ask that you somehow let me know what awesome outfits you've come up with for her.

#body positive #body positive art #representation #demon #princess #plus size #plus size art #character design #character art #demon girl #monster girl #webtoon #webtoon canvas #webcomic #web comics #original comic #fantasy #romance #lgbt #queer #artists on tumblr #illustration

[naoyaslut]

The Hills Ch. 19

pairings: ran haitani xfemreader+18

wordcount: 2.9k

warnings: groping, tears, moodswings, blackmail, gaslighting, plot devices, mention of murder

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

Standing in the mirror in disbelief, you nearly shrieked at how you had just seemed… to blow up overnight.  It was early, not even 5 AM in the morning.  You had awakened suddenly with the urgent need to use the restroom.  Once you did your business and washed your hands something in the bathroom mirror kept drawing your attention to it.

That something was now the prominent rounded bulge of your stomach peeking through the slit of the sheer black chemise you were wearing.  Ran purchased the sleepwear not even a month ago and now you were bursting out the front of it belly button visible and all.

Not only was your belly bigger, but so were your breasts.  This was a given, you had noticed that you were going up in sizes steadily but now your cleavage was spilling distastefully out of the silk chiffon undergarment.

Rubbing the fog out of your eyes, you took a double take while looking into the mirror audibly whimpering at what you were seeing.  You weren’t a tall woman; you were average you’d say but never in a million years did you think you’d look like this. 

Prodding at the fat of your breasts you inhaled in shock while biting back the threat of oncoming tears.  Why were you crying?  You just didn’t feel like yourself.  Clasping a palm over your eyes while trying to collect yourself, you didn’t acknowledge the bathroom door swinging open with Ran half asleep, stepping into the bathroom. 

He yawned big and dramatically stepping behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder.  He observed you shielding your eyes from your reflection and curiously hooked a finger underneath one of the straps of your chemise.

“What’s wrong?” He asked tiredly, taking both of his hands to cusp at your breasts kneading the pliable flesh in his hands.  “Come back to bed sweetheart.”

Kissing your cheek, he hummed in your ear waiting for you to respond.

Dropping your hand to your side your eyes met with Ran’s in the mirror while he busied himself with teasing the nipples that had long gone stiff from all his rolling and plucking.

Gasping in surprise at the warmth of his tongue slipping along the column of your throat you gasped at both of his hands that were still fondling your sensitive breasts. 

“Ran, w-we need to talk,”

Everything seemed to be smothering you all at once.  The meeting with Detective Tachibana, the fact that he knew so much about your past, and even him knowing that you were legally married to Ran before you did.  It was all very troubling, and it put a large damper on your mood.

Ran didn’t stop his actions even while you tried to pull his hands away, he merely hummed sleepily into skin before tugging the straps of the chemise off your shoulders.

Tearing your eyes away from the mirror so you weren’t forced to stare at your reflection, you tugged at his hands again before turning around in his arms.  You faced his taller form, his hands now placed on both sides of your cheeks to cradle your face.

“What’s wrong with you?” 

Hesitating, you avoided eye contact focusing on what would be the tiled floor of the bathroom if your stomach wasn’t blocking the way. 

Something felt… off.  Aside from hating the way you looked the fact that Detective Tachibana seemed to know more about events in your life than you did.  You were terrified.

Ran was clearly keeping information from you, why?  Why was it so hard for this man to just tell you what you needed to know?

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you made eye contact with him once more.  He looked tired, exhausted even.  Dark bags were heavily apparently underneath his eyes as if he hadn’t gotten an ounce of sleep.

“I don’t know where to start,” swallowing the knot that had been forming in your throat, you placed your hand flat on the counter behind you before sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet.

Ran eyed you, tiredly running a free hand through his dense hair.  He was confused, slightly irritated.  It was 5 in the morning, what could have you riled up already?

“What is it, talk to me.”  Leaning against the counter of the sink himself, he crossed both of his arms across his broad chest, letting out another yawn.

“Detective Tachibana thinks I killed Kenji,”

Ran’s flat expression morphed into one of confusion, his irritation becoming very apparent.

“Why would you even think that?” he asked, running his palm over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“He interviewed me again yesterday,”

Ran’s jaw tensed at your words, turning his eyes back on you almost as if he were urging you to continue.

“What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” shifting nervously, you wrung your fingers around one another wetting your lips before you continued.  “He brought up something from my past, he had a sealed file and asked me about-“

Pausing you debated on not mentioning the incident at all, but what difference did it make?  As much as you wanted to deny it, you knew that Ran was already very familiar with death and the art of killing.

“In college, I was involved in a murder… I had to protect myself from someone who was trying to hurt me,”

Bile began to rise in the pit of your throat while you tried to explain, and nausea began to churn in your stomach.  “No charges were filed… and my file was supposed to be sealed b-but I think… he’s trying to blackmail with-“

Ran stared down at you blankly, his arms still crossed over his chest while he digested the information that you were dispersing.  He wasn’t sure what he heard at first, but he began to listen more intently when you mentioned that you were involved in a murder.

“Wait, wait back up,” Ran let out a humorless laugh, standing up straight.  “You were involved in a murder?”

His voice was curious, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I ran a background check on you, and it was through.  Yet you’re telling me you killed someone?”

An hour later the two of you sat on the living room sofa in silence after you went over in detail how your meeting went with Naoto Tachibana. 

Ran seemed annoyed at the fact that you spoke to him again, but he clearly wasn’t as flabbergasted as you were.  You were terrified.  Although you played it cool in a sense, you were scared of what could possibly happen if you or Ran were implied in Kenji’s murder.

Naoto seemed very adamant about looping you into this case, but you were unable to grasp why in its entirety.  You were tired, you were pregnant, and you were moody at that.  This was something that you wanted to be as far away as possible from and it only seemed right to try and clear your name.

You couldn’t go to prison, you couldn’t.  Your hand absently fell over the curve of your belly as you quietly thought to yourself about every single disaster that seemed to befall you every other month it seemed.  Would this ever be over?

“As I’ve said before, I’m not worried,” Ran stood up rubbing idly at the back of his neck.  “You don’t have anything to worry about, but for the last time… stay away from that detective.”

He sighed in exasperation his tired eyes glowering down at you while you tucked yourself further into the corner of the couch.

“If he approaches you again, let me know. in the meantime, I’ll get you a lawyer.”

Your gaze snapped up in his direction when he mentioned legal counsel, that tightness that had been in your throat earlier returning tenfold.

“L-lawyer?” you asked sheepishly, your nervousness beginning to make you feel sick. 

“It’s just a precaution, if he tries to question you again refer him to your lawyer.”

You didn’t want to be upset, but you could feel the start of tears beginning to form along your lash line.

“B-but that just makes me look guilty!” you argued, all control you had over your emotions now out of the window as you began to hyperventilate.

Ran kneeled down in front of you to take both of your hands into his before flashing you a soft smile.  Kissing the back of your hands he canted his head off to the side as if he were consoling a small child.

“I promise you y/n, that I’ll blow a hole in the back of Tachibana’s head before I let anything happen to you.  Alright?”

The sincerity of his words caused you to freeze.  You could feel panic clawing up the back of your throat only because you knew it was the truth.  You didn’t want anyone else to get hurt and you didn’t want to drag Ran into anything else he didn’t need to be a part of. 

Nothing was going as planned.  How could you have thought that any of this would just disperse into thin air?  The murders, the crime, the people? Nothing in this world simply went away without something being done about it.  Your naivety astounded even you, would this really be life as you knew it from now on?

Ran’s thumb gliding along your jawline brought you out of your own thoughts, your own stress heavily apparent on your features. 

Ran quirked a brow in question before tugging your bottom lip from the confines of your teeth, which you had unknowingly been chewing on.

“You understand me?”

Nodding hesitantly, you again tore your eyes from his watching as his hands found their place on your stomach rubbing over it gently.

“I know you don’t like being locked up in here alone, but I want you to stay inside for a few days… until Sivir hosts your baby shower,” Ran clicked his tongue rubbing over the exposed skin of your stomach with his thumb.  “You still up for it?”

Right now? No, you weren’t.  You didn’t want to be around anyone right now and that included Ran.  But maybe it would take your mind off all the unpleasant thoughts that were swirling around that head of yours. 

You only nodded again shortly after, parting your lips to press further into the matter of the marriage license that Naoto had.  Was that real?

“Did you have a marriage license certified without me knowing?” The question was straightforward enough.  And if he did, what else was he doing behind your back?

“I did after I gave you the ring and you accepted it,” Ran could tell that you were upset about it.  He’d listened to you on multiple occasions complain about him not sharing information with you.  The fact that the two of you were now legally married, without her knowledge was definitely one of those things.  “I didn’t do it behind your back on purpose,”

You watched him lean forward to press his ear against your baby bump, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling as he listened for any movements from his child.

“It’s for security reasons if something happens to me before I get to marry you properly,” He emphasized the word “properly” smiling faintly as he heard a tiny thud from the side of your belly.  “You and the baby will be taken care of.”

A few quiet moments ticked by before you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.  Staring wide-eyed down at Ran, he didn’t even move to make eye contact with you.  He kept his hand in place on your tummy, an amused smile painting his regal features as if he were listening to the funniest joke he had ever heard.

Maybe he didn’t want to alarm you, but instead of continuing the conversation he merely stood up reaching out to grab your hand to help you stand.

“Come on, let's get you a bath and then some breakfast I can already tell you’re wound up.”

Wound up? Is that what he called it? You were literally trembling in your own skin.  The icing on top of the negativity cake was Ran talking like… he wouldn’t be around for much longer.  You could feel the dread creeping up your spine.  Even the warmth from the bath that he had drawn you wasn’t enough to shake the inkling of fear that both Ran and Detective Tachibana had planted in your gut.

Ran’s hands were heavy as they Ran over your body.  After he washed you from head to toe his large hands ran over every inch of you massaging and rubbing you down with a hibiscus-scented oil he seemed to be partial to. 

After oiling and massaging your back, he instructed you to lie on your side while he continued down the length of your body to rub out all the kinks and stiffness that he presumed you had in those muscles of yours.  After all, you were pregnant with his kid, he figured this was the least he could do. Plus, he enjoyed the soft noises you made underneath his touch.  

The loss of warmth from Ran’s hands startled you awake; you’d been dozing off from the full body massage he had been giving.  Ran had been especially attentive this morning and you appreciated every minute of it.  It would be nice just to lie in his warmth without having to go anywhere, but you knew it would be short-lived.

“Food is here, I’ll be right back,”

Ran stood, and walked into the walk-in closet to pull a pair of sweatpants on before he left your shared bedroom.  Pulling the comforter on the bed over you, you waited for him to return only to be greeted by the sound of his voice only minutes later.

He looked annoyed again, an unmarked cell phone pressed against his ear while he carried a large paper bag in the other.  Sitting the bag on the floor, he took a seat on the edge of the bed before he began to methodically remove several containers of food. 

“I already told you I don’t have time to keep cleaning up your bullshit, I’m laying low today spending time with my wife, she needs me to be around more.”

You didn’t know who he was talking to, nor did you want to know.  But you found yourself relaxing at the fact that he seemed to at least plan to stay home with you today.  It made you feel slightly less shitty about this strange situation.

You listened to his ongoing conversation, sitting upright after he instructed you to with his hands so he hand you one of the containers.

He mouthed the word “eat” to you after handing you silverware and stood up to exit the room once more. 

Eating your meal in silence, you sighed in frustration.  He’d more than likely end up leaving you alone towards the end of the day and there’d be nothing you could do about it.

Being alone with your own thoughts was the last thing you wanted, everything seemed to be haunting you, making you feel uneasy. 

It’s because I’m pregnant… my nerves and my mood are just all over the place.  You couldn’t shake the feeling you had that something terrible was about to happen.

“I need a fucking vacation,” Ran growled under his breath, removing the soiled leather gloves he’d been wearing to dispose of the industrial black garbage bags sealed tight with zip ties. 

He removed his designer shoes and proceeded to remove every piece of clothing he was wearing before tossing it into the furnace in front of him. 

Sanzu stood not too far away in all his naked glory having disposed of his own clothing before Ran had. 

“This should be the last time, things got out of hand, unfortunately.”  Sanzu laughed under his breath before tugging on a plain white t-shirt over a pair of sweats.  “You owed me anyway,”

Sighing in annoyance Ran began to dress in a clean pair of pants and a clean shirt tossing Sanzu an annoyed glare.

“With the way things are going, I would have been better off doing it alone.  Tachibana is trying to implicate me in Oh’s murder, I know that much,” Pulling a dark sweatshirt over his head he clicked his tongue in annoyance.  “I think he’s trying to get y/n to flip on me, I think I need to get her out of the country for a while,”

Sanzu shrugged to himself offering up a solution he really had no qualms about himself.

“We could just kill him,”

Ran scoffed cynically, laughing under his breath although he was not entertained.  Typical Sanzu.  Unfortunately killing people didn’t get rid of their problems.  Oh was dead, now there’s another detective looking into it.  If Tachibana disappeared, they would end up in the same boat.

“We’re going to take a vacation after this damn baby shower, I want to lay low until my kid is born,”

Sanzu had wound up lighting a cigarette as he pushed the button to start the furnace up.  Once the flames ignited the heavy aroma of burning clothing, flesh, and rubber began to fill the warehouse. 

Exhaling a large puff of smoke Sanzu looked over his shoulder at Ran before he began to speak.

“Well, just let me know when you’re ready.  I can make sure you get to a place where no one can find you.”

#the hills #tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani x femreader

[souloftheintrovert]

i am so fucking hideous. my face is too small for my head. my head is too small for my body. i got scar and scab marks everywhere. no matter how much i wash my face or how much junk i dont eat, i constantly get pimples. my eyes are fucking huge. no joke, they’re as huge as an anime character’s eyes. my ears are small as shit. my nose is covered with blackheads and is way too big. my lips are always fucking crusty and are huge. i have fucking wrinkles. my thighs & ass are huge. my hips are way to fucking feminine. my stomach is way too fat. my arms are way too big. my hair is way too long. my fingers resemble sausages. my hands are just fucking repulsive. i practically have a double chin. i have stretchmarks and cellulite everywhere. i look too much like a girl to ever be a boy. my neck is constantly dirty no matter how much i wash it. my teeth are fucking yellow no matter how often i brush them. my back is covered with pimples and scabs. my teeth are crooked as hell. my gums are black (which is my fault for drawing on them with a pen when i was three.) my eyelashes are too long. my nails are always dirty and feminine. even if i wasn’t in a fucked up environment, my body alone is more than enough to make me sui.

#.souloftheintrovert

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 3

Summary: While his bride is exacting her plans from the very first day in Little Palace, the Darkling finds he has a soft spot for the enemy.

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, angst

Part one // Part two

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

The last thing Y/N expected upon waking up was to wake up alone. Spreading out in the bed, she huffed a loose strand of her hair off her face. Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at the canopy with her wicked husband on her mind.

After the way he had acted the night before, she found herself wondering what game he’s playing. They were meant to be married in paper only, yet he seems to have a possessive streak that extends to her as well. A part of her wasn’t sure if he truly had a shred of decency within considering he didn’t take advantage of their marital status, but the other part of her wasn’t easily swayed. That part of her remained defiant as it was forged in a fire the Darkling set. Intentionally or not, his actions have damaged her before they ever even met and she wasn’t very forgiving.

Opening the door, unannounced, strolled in the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen. Her long, auburn hair was perfectly styled and framed her face without obscuring an inch of her stunning beauty.

Genya, she realized. Even on the other side of the fold, Y/N knew of the empresses’ tailor.

Large, amber eyes fix on Y/N who slowly sat up. She stared at Genya without shame, admiring her appearance.

“Well, from what the general told me, I expected I’d have more work on my hands.” Genya huffs, her hands on her hips as her lips form a thin line.

“I have nothing wrong with me”, Y/N defends, graciously getting out of the bed that was far too comfy considering who she shared it with. “And where is the general?” Raising her eyebrow, Y/N folded her arms. No matter where he disappeared to, she couldn’t let him wander too far in case he tries to break their agreement and attend a meeting alone.

Humming, Genya didn’t try to hide her curiosity as she looked Y/N up and down. “Are you sure you don’t need my services?”

Glancing at the door, Y/N saw the servants waiting in front for a command. “Leave us”, Y/N waves them off, swiftly closing the door behind them. Her eyes settle on a seemingly startled Genya who cocks her head to the side.

“Interesting. So you do need me?”

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods. Coming closer, her eyes remain on Genya’s whose gaze drifts at first. Once Y/N stopped before her, their eyes met.

“I need you, but not as a tailor.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Genya steps back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N licked her lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you hate the emperor and you’d do anything to make sure he never lays a hand on you?”

Genya’s nostrils flare, her lips drawing back between her pearly whites. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m loyal to my emperor.”

“I know”, Y/N reaches for her hand, “I’m saying if your loyalties shifted, I’d make sure that fat fuck died in agonizing pain.”

Yanking her hand out of Y/N’s reach, Genya stepped back with wide eyes.

Gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip, Y/N wished she was more tactful. Hearing of Genya and her fate, she assumed she’d gladly ally with her in this fight. Not only does she need Genya on her side to fight against Kirigan, but the emperor as well. Genya would have been an ideal ally if only she was willing to hear her out. But she should have waited, befriended the Grisha. She should have been more tactful.

“Does the general know of the treasonous plans you speak of?”

Chuckling in disbelief, Y/N shakes her head, “Do you truly believe I’d be breathing if he did?”

Pursing her lips, Genya turned her back on Y/N, contemplating all the possibilities that could stem from her decision.

“It’s a lot, I know, but I am here with a few secrets of my own.” Y/N takes a step closer, her hand clasping Genya’s shoulder as a show of support. “I realize you barely know me, but we can change that now.”

“How?” Genya whispers, more to herself than Y/N who released a shaky sigh.

“By revealing a secret that would be lethal for me if you shared it with anyone.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Genya’s eyes narrowed at Y/N who felt genuine, more than anyone had been since the day she arrived in the Palace. Despite the initial mistrust, Genya nods.

The guards stationed outside of Y/N’s room only heard a loud gasp behind closed doors, unaware that very gasp was a start of a friendship that would define Ravka’s future.

Meanwhile, the Darkling had spent the morning out in the fields. Riding his favorite horse usually served as a way to distract his mind from ongoing worries, but it had no such effect today. No amount of speed or distance could possibly erase the feeling of Y/N’s hand on his body, much less of her body pressing against him.

He behaved as a pious man, an honorable gentleman with self-restrain of a saint. If he could, he’d have taken her without regrets, but he never crossed that line and doing so with a woman meant to be his wife would set him on a path of no return – of true evil.

The Darkling may have done some heinous things, but they were never without reason. If he had done anything against her wishes, he’d be beyond redemption and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth every time he imagined himself losing his mind around her long enough for her to turn him into the villain she sees him as.

Another thing he’s decided to do is break the rule he knew she expected him to uphold – sleeping in separate chambers was the worst thing for them now. He had to be in her bed every night, regardless if she wanted to let him between her legs or not. He wouldn’t force her, that much would be true, but he wouldn’t sleep in his own room anymore. The room they were given last night would be the one he goes to, stumbles to, crawls to, in order to fall asleep beside her. And though it’s a risk as he could easily find himself with his throat cut, he refused to back down.

Dismounting, he headed to the map room where his subordinates waited for further instructions regarding the war.  

“Shall we start?” The Darkling tossed his riding gloves on the desk as he looked at his people. A new face caught his attention, making him do a double take until his dark skies narrowed at her.

“Now that you’ve arrived”, Y/N stands, smiling sweetly. “I believe we can present to you what we’ve discussed while you were off on a joy ride.”

There’s nothing sweet about her, Darkling realizes. Even her smile is coated in honey but laced with poison.

 He licked his lips, “Well, if you want my opinion-“

“I don’t”, she stood her ground, “I have my own.”

Chuckling darkly, he leans forth on the table. His nostrils are flared, his hands gripping the edges until his knuckles turn white. “And what exactly is that?”

“We agreed on having the First army general having a vote in the decision making process as you all do, and since I’m his proxy, I’ve decided you will no longer use humans as canon meat.”

Gliding the tip of his tongue over the inner side of his teeth, he stared at Y/N as if she were made of glass he had every intention on shattering. That would be a mistake – glass is only brittle until it breaks, the shards can cause more damage.

“We will train Grisha to protect humans and humans will use their weapons to protect the Grisha in a more effective manner with the emperor’s gold.”

“Gold?” Kirigan says through gritted teeth as she approaches him, her hands behind her back and he has no doubts she’s stashed a weapon in them and the blue kefta she wore. He’d tell her to take it off and never wear one since she’s but a human, yet as his wife, she was entitled to a kefta. Besides, she looked like a dream in one.

“The emperor agreed to fund the First army’s armory during breakfast”, she smirks, lifting her head up to maintain eye contact.

“Get out”, he grumbles.

Raising her eyebrow, she giggles, “Are you that incapable of admitting I may have opinions and capabilities with potential to do better than the ones you brought before the emperor?” Hardening her gaze, she cups his cheek so tenderly he felt a shiver run down his back. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“GET OUT!” He turns to the others, watching them scramble to leave before he unleashes the darkness everyone feared. Once the last one left, the door slamming behind them, Kirigan locked his eyes on hers.

“Don’t ever try to get inside my head”, he snarled, slamming her against the door. As his heartbeat echoed in his ears, they stayed there with his grip crushing her wrists, keeping them pinned to the wall.

She didn’t breathe, trying to guess his next move. There was a risk she’d push him over the edge and she quite liked herself in one piece, so she waited – waited for him to move first despite the aching pain in her wrists. Releasing a shuddered breath, her chest deflates.

Finally, his eyes soften as he realizes he might have scared her and while he’d usually triumph, he found no satisfaction in being rough with her. He imagined himself releasing her from his grip, cupping her cheeks and asking for forgiveness, but the way she refused to blink made him unsteady. Yet he whispered still, “It’s too dark for you.”

Squinting, Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. She easily breaks out of his grasp, shoving him against the wall with her forearm on his chest. Trailing her hand lazily towards his neck, she tightens her grip, lightly choking him. Pulling him down, she stands on her tiptoes as well. Leaning in, her lips brush against his ear; whispering, "Darling, you may wield darkness but you don't know the meaning of dark."

Stepping away, she raised her chin defiantly and he wished he could grasp it and pull her lips to his until her jaw relented and her mouth opened for his. And that’s when he realized – why would he hold back?

Her eyes drifted up to his and she knew his resolve was gone. His lips captured hers in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. There was something gentle about it, regardless of the brute strength he used to push her into the door. She felt the door rattle against her back as he shifted, pressing her into it, taking her face between his hands.

When he kissed her, she felt as if she were losing his mind. She couldn’t comprehend why her hand wasn’t holding her dagger at his neck, or why she allowed herself to moan into the kiss as if he had brought her pleasure.

Every thought she once had evaporated as the darkness of lust drew her in, bending all her rules, stealing the last trembling bit of restraint. She tries to pull away, to stand firm and turn away his affection if she could call it that.

“No”, he whispers, bringing her lips back to his.

And when he kissed her again, she wasn’t sure she wanted her sanity back. She slid her hands under his kefta, wrapping arms around him to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise set every inch of her skin on fire.

Opening her eyes, they widen as she notes his are closed as he lost himself in their passionate exchange. A single intelligent thought formed inside her mind, sparking others to appear as well. Playing with fire is her favorite hobby, but this wasn’t a game – not when she was losing.

Pushing against him with all her might, Y/N gasped for breath as he stumbled back. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she narrowed her eyes at him. Lifting her chin, Y/N met his gaze decidedly. After all, she couldn’t avoid her marital duty if she allowed him to kiss her like that. He may not be an old, unattractive, undeveloped man she had imagined in her mind, but Y/N still wasn’t quite keen on giving herself to him. She had kept her maidenhood all those years only to lose it to a man who shall never be more to her than a husband in name only. She’d never love him…she promised herself that. She never broke a promise before and he would not be the one who changes that.

“Don’t touch me”, she spoke through clenched teeth.

He looked at her in surprise. There was hatred in her enchantingly cold eyes, her cheeks flushed red. If possible, her anger made her even more beautiful. Never had he felt such a raging desire.

His hand went around her neck, his thumb digging into the soft flesh. “You are my wife,” he said in a low voice. “You are mine!”

“I believe we have already covered that. I’m not yours and I never will be.” Y/N told him with such spite, such determination that he let her go immediately.

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?” Darkling’s voice softened, his eyes holding more understanding than she liked. Had he acted unreasonably and taken her against her will the night before or now, she’d at least be right about his horrid heart and vile mind…but he didn’t. Instead of being a savage she imaged him to be, he offered her gentle understanding.

“I’m sorry I was rough. I’ll try and be gentler. If you don’t want to go through with this, I won’t force you.” Running a hand across his face, he leaned back on the table. “I want you…really fucking bad, but I won’t take you against your will.” The Darkling sighed as she stared at him with her doe eyes, seeing confusion pass her features.

“Good to know where you draw your line. Murder – good, rape – bad.”

Rolling his eyes, he squinted as he looked at her again, “We can’t sacrifice Grisha for your men.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Y/N could hardly believe he just forgot the kiss they shared. In seconds, he crossed his arms and the lustful look was gone. The man before her was a general once more, and though he tried to hide it, he was still a man who had a hard-on despite the subject change. She wished she could ignore the evidence his blood is still boiling for a touch, more so because he was fucking right – he wasn’t small at all.

“If you keep wasting human lives, we will stop defending yours entirely.”

Raising an eyebrow, his face hardened, “We’ll kill you.”

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrow to mimic him. “It’s you or Volcra or the Druskelle and Fjerdans or Shu. We end up dying either way.” Stepping closer, she folded her hands behind her back. “We can work together and lessen our losses or you can do it your way and have a massacre instead.”

In less than a minute, her eyes turned from ice to flame and he found himself captivated by the change.

“I’ll agree on one condition.”

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. Was that expression fear? The possibility struck him as so humorous he nearly laughed out loud.

“State your terms”, she snapped, refusing to concede when she’s close enough to do something she’s wanted for years – to protect the soldiers used as a shield for those who are perfectly capable of protecting themselves.

“I plan on getting to know you better”, he leaned in closer. He raised his hand, cupping her cheek just as he imagined – tenderly, enough to show dominance but not quite capable of harming her. “If you let me.”

Heart fluttering inside her chest had made her doubt herself. She stared at him, stubborn and unrelenting. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Chuckling, Kirigan drops his hand, noticing her relax as he steps back. With a tightness in his chest, he looked back at his wife, so small, so alone and still so fierce. He would never admit it, but he had already a sliver of love for her and knowing she did not had hurt him.

His smile falls and he nods. Clearing his throat, “How about we go for a ride in a few days?” He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze, looking up at her weary eyes.

“Does that mean I have the bed all to myself?” Raising her eyebrows expectantly, she squeezed his hands right back, as bold as ever. Genya seemed to trust him, yet Y/N couldn’t understand why. He’s too charming to be trustworthy.

Using his grip on her hand as an advantage, he tugged her closer to him and she found herself between his legs as he remained, leaning against the table behind him. His eyes flicker to her lips, “Better find more pillows, my wife. We wouldn’t want you to be the big spoon again, would we?”

With that, he turned them so swiftly, she had barely blinked as he pulled her up on the table and she gasped in surprise. Heart beating fast, she nearly gripped his kefta and claimed his lips, but he leaned in on his own accord and she had no need for brutish behavior.

The tip of his nose brushes hers and just as she begins to lean in, he takes a step back. Winking, he takes another step back.

“If you want a taste, you’ll have to ask.”

Watching his retreating figure in shock, she remained perched on the table with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

Covering her mouth, Y/N shakes her head. Her mind was right, the heart cannot be trusted.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9​ @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x​ 

PART 4

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone #the darkling fanfiction

[sillyrabbit81]

The Instructor - Part 5

Summary: Augusts confronts your betrayal.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 4k

Warnings: Dark, violence, abuse, choking, hitting, punching, orgasm denial, orgasm control, sex (p in v), mdom/fsub, switch, praise kink, degradation kink, name calling, dubious consent. I tried to mention everything if I missed something I sincerely apologise.

Authors Note: FINAL PART. There are probably going to be massive plot holes, sorry about that, this was never meant to be a series, so I didn’t do anywhere near the set up needed. However, I’m glad I did do a series because I enjoyed playing around with some of the darker aspects of the story. If it sucks, I'm sorry, I just went for it and this is what came out! It probably also isn't strictly cannon, but I made use of some aspects of the MI cannon.

Unbeta'd and unedited, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Part 4

The Instructor Part 5

You thought you had felt true fear before this moment, but you were wrong. Confronted with the unyielding stare of August, your stomach twists and your mouth goes dry. You’re completely and utterly fucked.

You try to answer August, make up a believable lie, beg forgiveness, say anything. But you can’t, it’s like he can see into your soul and you know that any lie you tell him will only make him angrier.

Quicker than lightning, August’s hands grip your throat. He pushes you to the wall, uncaring as your head hits it so hard your vision swims. Both his hands push into your neck, compressing your arteries and you feel the blood pooling, building pressure behind your eyes. This wasn’t the subtle choking he engaged in when you played. No, this was Special Agent August Walker trying to kill you.

You are stretched against the wall, your toes barely touch the ground. You are a trained soldier, but August is a trained assassin, you know you won’t last long in a situation like this, you will pass out in less than a minute. Then all August had to do was keep squeezing and you would be dust.

“Why, pet?” August asks through clenched teeth.

You can’t speak, you have no air. You plead to August with your eyes, silently begging him to stop. His hands press harder and you feel him crushing your trachea with his leathal hands. You scratch at his hands, his face, his eyes. You kick with your feet, frantic, feeling yourself get weaker by the second. You get one lucky shot in and for a moment August’s grip falters as he doubles over retching in pain.

You slam the palm of your hand into his forearms and he lets you go. You run for the door, your nudity the last of your concerns. Your throat hurts as you run, bruised and raw, you gulp breath in, coughing you try and fill your lungs again. You reach the door, pull the handle. It stops, not making a full rotation.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration. You turn the lock and try to open in again. It does and for a brief moment you taste freedom.

A foot kicks the door closed and August is in front of you. You back away from him as he locks it again. In the unlikely event you live through this night, you will never forget the snarl on his face. You look into his eyes, expecting to see the eyes of a killer and August doesn’t disappoint. His azure eyes burn with such murderous intent, for a moment you think you are going to lose control of your bladder.

But there is something else there, something he tries to hide behind his fury. You search his face, trying to see past the mask and find what he is concealing. You wince when you see it. August was hurt. Your betrayal had hurt him.

“This is even more fun than the first time we fucked, Pet,” he says, mockingly. August advances on you with a bullish intent. He is magnificent as he stalks you, his loose pyjama pants hang low on his hips, his chest is taut and his thick ropey arms flex as he readies them for a fight.

You try and think clearly, maybe you should confess everything. He’s going to kill you if you don’t. If only you had long enough to check his records, but you couldn’t put your associates at risk if you weren’t sure.

Lifting your chin, you accept your fate. You ready a fighting stance, and August does too. You understand you can’t beat him, but you won’t die without a fight.

You dodge his first attack, and you’re not surprised that he led with his fists. He only needs one to land and he would break your bones. You retreat to the kitchen, praying its laid out the same as yours. Opening the draw with the knives, you pull one out. It’s not ideal, its weight wasn’t distributed well for fighting, but it was better than nothing. Your gun is in your room and you have no idea where August keeps his.

Turning the tables and going on the offensive, you make August back up and you move to the door. You hold the knife expertly, and as long as you keep August from getting his own weapon, the fight might be a fair one. You have so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you start to shake. The blade accentuates the tremors and August see’s, of course he would find your weakness.

“Put the knife down, Pet,” August orders, his voice was smooth, calm and commanding. You nearly stumble, his words sent shivers down your spine. How can he still have an effect on you? “You know I can’t let you out of here.”

You gage the distance to the door, it was still so far away. Your fear made you want to run to it again, but you knew it would be a mistake. Better to keep advancing slowly, forcing August back.

But August stops retreating and plants himself in front of the door. He stretches his neck, rolls his shoulders, his naked torso hides nothing and you see his muscles ripple under his skin. Your body and mind are in conflict, confused by the stimulus. You’re terrified of August, but fear of him and what he is capable of was part of his appeal, part of his savage, dominant sexuality. Your body can’t tell the difference and you feel it responding, your centre grows warm, throbbing and your arousal moistens the apex of your thighs.

“Please,” you murmur. Confronted with August’s obstruction and his dismissiveness of your threat, you lose hope. You feel weak and exhausted. Again, you contemplate confessing everything, but you aren’t a coward, you were realistic.

The cruel snarl on August’s face becomes a smirk as you plead. “I love hearing you beg, Pet,” he taunts.

He attacks again, this time grabbing a chair from the dining table. You try and duck but he is too fast for you and the solid wood chair cracks you over your head and shoulders. You stumble to the ground; your vision wavers and you nearly pass out. You try and get to your knees, but your arms won’t cooperate and you fall to the floor, no doubt you have a concussion. You look for the knife, see it about a metre away. With your head thumping and your heart racing, you scramble for it, but August reaches you first.

Gripping both your ankles, August uses your legs and body weight against you, flipping you onto your back. He pulls you to him, your skin rubs against the carpet and you howl with pain as you feel the fibres burn your ass and back. August climbs on top of you, his hands are at your throat again, squeezing the life from you.

“You’re killing me, August,” you try and say, but all you hear is your pathetic whimpers. You feebly punch and slap at August, but you are spent. You give up, you tried. You get angry at yourself for even thinking of giving up, but you didn’t know what else to do. You can’t win. Tears well in your eyes and start to roll down your cheeks. You squeeze them shut, ashamed that you cried in your last moments, that you gave up, that you didn’t fight.

The pressure on your throat relaxes, and you gulp in air, coughing and retching as your inflamed throat protests. You try to roll to your side to breath easier, but August doesn’t allow it, his body still traps yours and one hand still grips your throat. You feel his whiskered lips on your cheeks, kissing away your tears. You open your eyes and are consumed by his and the fire that burns within them. You wonder what your eyes are saying to his.

August shifts his hips and you feel him, hard under his thin pants. Your eyes widen, he really had been enjoying the fight. It scares you, feeling how hard and fully erect he his, aroused by trying to kill you. But you knew how hypocritical that was, because even now, terrified, a moment from death, you ache for him.

You roll your hips, sliding your bare, slick slit against August, the fabric of his pants harsh against your clit, but you feel him beneath it, and you can’t stop. You don’t want to but your craving for him was too strong.

If you didn’t know August as well as you did, you may have missed the surprise in his eyes. It came and went so quickly. His lip curled, triumphant, he had you where he wanted you, desperate, without fight left and completely his.

August’s arrogant look, his smug sneer, his complete domination of you made you lose the last shred of dignity you had and you beg for him.

“Please, please,” you whimper.

“You’re such a little whore,” August scolds you. “Do you think you can fuck your way out of this?”

You shake your head, “No.” You cry again, fat tears rolling down your cheeks in a constant stream, but you don’t stop your wanton grinding. You need to feel him inside you.

“Why are you so fucking wet, Pet?” August asks, his jeering tone warmed your face with shame.

“I don’t know!” you cry.

“Yes, you do, Pet.”

You try to turn away and hide from his knowing eyes. August won’t let you, griping your cheeks with his fingers, digging deep, the soft flesh pressing painfully against your teeth. Through your sobs you say, “Because I want you.”

“Beg me,” August’s voice changed, becoming low and hoarse. He starts to move with you, teasing you. “Beg for my cock.”

You don’t try to hold back, the words fall freely, “Please August, please.”

August tuts, “You can do better than that, Pet. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me, August,” you sob. You’re ashamed of yourself, of how wet you are, how badly you want him, how easily you submit. But it feels too good, playing on the edge as you were, where fear and arousal become interchangeable, you had never felt such bliss.

Taking his pants off, August fists his cock as he takes you in, his gaze rakes over you, lingering on your desperate cunt. Lining himself up, he teases your entrance. When he slides himself over you, he groans as his eyes close and he throws his head back. You realise, you’re not as powerless as you thought, he wants you too and just as badly.

Bringing his head down next to yours, he growls in your ear, “Keep going, Pet. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck your hot little cunt.”

You start mumbling, “Please August, please. I need you.” You throw your arms around him, grip his ass and pull him closer. Your nails dig into his skin as you urge him into you.

With a violent thrust, August enters you. Both of you cry out, your twin shouts echo in each other’s ears. “You feel so good, pet. So wet and so fucking tight.” You mewl under him. He is stretching you, painfully. He offered your core no preparation and it protested his invasion, clamping down hard. August wasn’t fucking around, if he had taken any pity on you in the past, he wasn’t this time. He pumps into you, his pelvis making long driving strokes, your walls straining against the force of his cock, unready for his intrusion.

August hooks your knees over his arms and forcing your legs wider, he is finally sheathed. Increasing his pace, he uses you, furious, punishing and without pity. He offers you no pleasure, he takes what he wants. His face above you is twisted, angry, and hateful. This is payback, revenge, hurt me and I’ll destroy you. But despite that, or maybe because you feel you deserve it, a familiar pressure starts to build between your legs.

“August,” you beg. “I need to cum, please.”

Leaning down, pushing his weight onto your already strained legs, he brings his face to yours. His eyes are dark and sadistic as he says vindictively, “No.”

You groan. You were so close, you don’t know if you can stop it. “Please!” you howl. Fresh tears fill your eyes and you implore him.

“No.” August says, his voice cruel and merciless. “You cum and I’ll fuck your ass raw.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You try and think of all the parts of your body that hurt. Your head, shoulders, legs, the skin on your back rubbing against the carpet. But it doesn’t work. Your body is so warm, tingling, your skin feels alive and the pain is dull compared to the rapture you feel.

Your body is suddenly wrest from the floor. August withdraws from you and flips you onto your knees and violates you again. You feel August’s hand in your hair and he forces your face into the floor. You heard a thud next to your head, his foot is there, and he continues his assault, kneeling on one leg anchoring himself with the other.

You bite your hand to muffle your shouts, you don’t want to give August the satisfaction of hearing your pain or pleasure. You thought he was deep before, but now you feel every impact in your gut, your core uncomfortably full from his brutal jabs. You can’t stay on your knees, your legs too weak to withstand his punitive thrusts. August doesn’t care. He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as he continues his ruthless assault.

Unable to stop it, you feel your release approach again. You try to deny it, but the savagery of August is too much. The feel of your bodies slaming together, the slapping of his balls against your clit, the sound of his grunts of exertion overwhelm you and you can’t stop yourself from whining, “Please, August. Please. I’m fucking begging you.”

You hear August’s malicious chuckle. “No, Pet.”

August seizes you by the nape, pulling you up to your knees and your back presses against his chest. Wrapping his hand around your neck, he holds you against his shoulder. His other hand moves over your breasts, kneading into them, squeezing them. His face is close to yours, you feel his ragged breath tickle your cheeks.

He starts whispering in your ear and he presses his rough hairy lip into you. “You fucking little bitch,” his voice was low, harsh and dripping with venom, but August can’t stop his desire from seeping through. “Who sent you to me? Who told you to whore yourself for me?” He pinches at your nipples, and you shudder against him writhing. His insults pushing you towards your climax as much as his touch.

“Was it the CIA?” he asks, sliding his hand down your belly to between your legs. Fear makes your heart skip, if he touched you there you would not be able to stop your orgasm. You try and pull away, but he is too strong.

“Did those useless government hacks, turn you into a fucking whore, or did you volunteer, Pet?” He slid his fingers over your slit, and one grazed your clit sending your core pulsing around his cock. You want to tell him he has it all wrong, backwards. He thinks he’s been caught, he doesn’t know he’s being recruited.

He slaps your clit with his palm, a quick flick of his wrists that shocks you and if August wasn’t holding you up, you would have doubled over in pain and ecstasy.

“Don’t fucking cum.” August orders, rubbing a calloused finger over your oversensitive clit. Then, he says, sadly and with regret, “You could have come to me, Pet. Told me. I would have protected you. I could have gotten you out.” His voice almost cracks as he adds, “We could have gotten out together. BE together.”

You want to tell him, you want that too. You didn’t mean to fall for him either, none of this was planned. His fingers dance over your hard nub, coaxing from you the orgasm he forbids. Frustration suddenly pours out of you. You fight him again, punching the arm he had wrapped around your waist, and between your legs.

“Why do you fight so hard, Pet?” he asks. Those simple words he said to you all those months ago rock you. It was his invitation to submit willingly rather than be pulled under by the force of his will. But it was different this time, it wasn’t just you at stake.

You beg again, “August…” It’s all you can say through your short gasping cries. You break out in sweat, the need in you was so strong it took everything you had to fight it.

“Answer my question and you can cum,” He says. You nod, vigorously, you don’t even feel shame at giving in so easily, you’re too far gone. He brings his face in front of yours. Your whole body is shaking under his touch as he draws your orgasm and confession out of you.

“Were you sent by the CIA?”

You shake your head, and whimper, “No.”

August looks into your eyes for a hint of a lie. When he can’t find one, he coos, “Good girl,” and you wriggle at his praise. He kisses you roughly, lips hard against yours. “You can cum now, Pet.”

With unrestrained cries, you finally allow the pressure in your core to grow. You feel your release roll over your contorting body. Your guttural shout signals you’re the arrival of your long denied ecstasy and tears streamed from your eyes as you succumb with immense relief.

August watched every second of your orgasm, his face studying yours as if to memorise every expression, until you were done and can’t hold yourself up anymore. He removes himself with a gentleness that was unexpected and he tenderly carries you to his room. Cradling your head against his chest, he kisses your forehead, muttering something you can’t catch and were too far gone to ask.

He lays you on your side, and you are so malleable and weak, you let him curl you into a ball before he leans over you. He lifts your chin and turns your head so you are looking at him. You give him a half smile, which he returns with a soft hum. His eyes go to your collar and a look of sadness crosses his face, a grief so intense you feel it too.

You don’t know what to say and neither does August. He does the only thing he knows how to do when he feels what some people call love. He fucks.

When August enters you this time it’s different. Although his thrusts are brutal and powerful, it’s not punishment. He is trying to make a connection, to see if there is something salvageable between you. He needs to know if he means anything to you. He drops his forehead onto yours, resting there while his eyes met yours. He holds your throat and his thumb plays with your thin golden collar.

“You’re still mine, Pet,” August says, firmly.

“Always yours,” you reply with certainty. And you were. But by the end of this night he would know he was yours too.

As if to seal the promise you made, August kisses you. His lips pry yours open and his gentle explorative tongue massages yours. When you kiss him back, you are surprised by the growl he makes in his throat. Feeling bold, you place a hand on his cheek as you kiss. He doesn’t pull away so you slide your other hand into his hair and you expect him to shake you off, like he did before. He allows it, and he slides his free arm around you, pulling your bodies together. The rhythm you find together is nothing like the primal fucking you two are used to. It seemed as though he was making love to you, as much as someone like August could.

You feel the warmth grow again and radiate from your core. August instinctively knows your close again and stops your kisses watch you again. “Come for me, my sweet girl,” he utters.

You fall apart. Your fist tightens in his hair, you tremble beneath him, while you call his name.

“Fuck,” he grunts while you fall over the edges, and he forces himself deep within you, splitting you, owning you as you feel him thicken and pulse, releasing his seed into your milking core. Then he breaks you by growling your name as he makes his final throes.

You’re both slick with sweat, but August doesn’t care and he brushes your face with kisses. He looks like he wants to say something, opening his mouth and closing it again without saying a word. He helps you get up and he walks you to his bathroom.

August runs you a bath, and he sits on the edge for a while, watches you while you bathe. He showers quickly before returning to his spot.

Finally, he speaks, but he looks away as he says it, and for the first time you see August doubt himself, “If not the Agency, then who?” He asks.

“We have no government affiliation,” you say.

He nods, “Why did they send you, was the plan always to use sex?”

“No, August,” you say honestly. “This was not part of the plan. I was only supposed to be assigned to you while I did my training. This assignment was last minute, I don’t even know how it happened.”

He turns his attention back to you and looks for the lie he believes he will find. When he doesn’t find it he asks, “Your aunt, was that a lie?”

“She’s officially missing,” you say. “Unofficially, she brought me into group.”

“Something doesn’t add up, Pet,” August says. “I’m don’t know anything that a hundred other agents don’t also know. What did they send you to find out?”

“You don’t get it. We don’t want to bring you down, we want to recruit you. I had to make sure you are who we think you are.”

You see a glimpse of understanding in August’s eyes. “Go on,” he prompts.

You watch him carefully as you explain, “My assignment was to find out if you were the one who wrote a certain manifesto making the rounds in certain circles.” He doesn’t blink. You smirk, realising he’s trying too hard to keep his face smooth. He is the one.

“And, am I?” he asks.

“You are,” you say moving down the bath. Unbelievably, knowing he wrote that poetic and chaotic brilliance made you hot again. “This operation is all wrong, too big for simple arms traders. You’re using the CIA to get the connections and resources you need.” You run your finger down August’s bare arm, tracing the ridges of his muscles and the slight protruding veins on his forearms. August watches you intently, trying to appear cold, but you see his breaths grow shallow and his jaw clench. “We have the resources to help a man like you,” You reach his hand, turn it palm up, and lay a kiss into it before holding it to your cheek. “’A man with vision’ Lane calls you.”

“Lane?” August says, he seems confused, and he should be.

“Yes, meet with Solomon Lane and you will get your new world August.” You take his hand off your cheek and fold down his fingers except for the middle one. You take him in your mouth curling your tongue around him, and sucking.

August can’t look away. Already thrown by being discovered, he is completely transfixed by your sudden seduction.

“How?” he breathes.

You open your mouth and show August his finger sliding down your tongue. You get out of the bath and stand in front of August. You move his finger down your body, between your breasts, over your belly and between your thighs. You slide his finger between your warm folds and you hear August groan as you rest him against your entrance.

You ask him, “Have you, ever heard of the Syndicate, Pet?”

End

Tag List

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#august walker #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #august walker x you #august walker x reader #august walker smut

[foulserpent]

i think some things to keep in mind if youre going to market yourself as a body positive artist or intentionally capitalize on being called body positive..... (absolutely non-exhaustive):

-are all/most of your fat women depicted hyper effeminately? like do you only or largely draw fat women caked in makeup, wearing cute/sexy womens clothing, etc? do you ever draw gnc fat women, or fat women in just like. casual everyday clothing?

-even regardless of gender, are your fat characters all extremely pretty/handsome/fashionable/conventionally attractive?

-are all/most of your drawings of fat people sexualized, posed, meant to be enticing? or otherwise executed in a way that the body is meant to be looked at and Pleasing? do you ever just draw fat people Existing?

-do you draw fat features besides the curves/stomachs? are you drawing large upper arms, full faces, fat necks, etc?

-and actually, are you drawing even the basic fat features to begin with? ie stomachs that sag, rolls, etc. are you just drawing skinny people with extra padding?

-if you Do actually draw fat people just existing, do you draw ‘unsexy’ features that happen when relaxed? are you drawing double chins, rolls, etc?

-do you heavily exaggerate/over-beautify stigmatized traits, instead of just depicting them as normal parts of the human body?

-ask yourself if (even subconsciously) you consider body hair/stretch marks/etc ugly or abnormal and are overcorrecting by overemphasizing them. are you trying to insist that everything is ‘beautiful’ ‘sexy’ etc rather than the fact that all these things are just normal?

-are your characters just people, or are they a collection of stigmatized traits? ie can you summarize your characters as ‘this is the one with stretch marks and body hair, and this is the one whos pear shaped and and uses a cane...’? are you making characters or going down a checklist?

#and btw its not bad to draw people appealing to you. like i find a lot of my characters attractive #theres just a difference yknoq #*yknow #between drawing shit sexy bc you find it sexy and drawing shit sexy bc its the only way you can fully conceptualize it #as being normal and acceptable

[vennilavee]

stormy skies

pairing: levi x reader, and baby kaiya

summary: it’s not the first time you’re home late from work.

word count: ~2260

warnings: a shitty boss, some cursing

a/n: wrote this because i couldnt sleep last night due to the current us election... enjoy

***

Levi peeks his head into Kaiya’s bedroom, and sees her fast asleep in her bed. She’s surrounded by pillows, her lion stuffed animal, as well as her butterfly, shark, and flower pillow. It’s been about an hour since she fell asleep for her afternoon nap. 

He thought he heard a noise on the baby monitor, but it was nothing. Just her shifting in bed.

Her face is squished into the pillow and Levi can’t help the small upturn of his lips at the sight.

Kaiya’s already almost two years old, and neither you nor Levi can quite believe it. Levi claims that she’s the spitting image of you, but you claim the opposite.

You’re both right.

Levi’s career allows for him to work from home for most days. You and Levi had spent the better part of two weeks setting up his office, back when you had first moved into your new home. Before Kaiya was born. He has two monitors on his mahogany desk, a sleek keyboard and an even sleeker mouse with his laptop plugged into the dock.

A photo of you and a photo of Kaiya sits next to the monitor on the left, and a photo of the three of you next to the monitor on the right. The baby monitor is in front of him, just in case Kaiya wakes up before she is supposed to.

He’s eager for Kaiya to wake up and for you to come home, and he puts his glasses on to get to work and hopefully end his day early.

***

Levi shoves a hand in his hair, expelling a deep sigh as he logs out of work. He stretches his arms and his legs, only to be alerted by a slight vibration from his phone.

It’s a text from you:

angel: gonna be late today… levi: again? angel: yes :(

Levi sighs to himself, waiting a few seconds before replying.

levi: ok, be safe 

It’s the third time this week, and he’s lost count of how many times you’ve come home late over the last few weeks. At first, it hadn’t bothered him. But then it became a habit. And then Kaiya was asking for you during dinner.

That was the first of a few fights. They usually ended with you promising that you’d be better about it and draw the boundaries you needed to draw.

And yet… 

Levi hears Kaiya waking up on the baby monitor, her soft coos and calls of ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’ nearly echoing in the silent room. He turns the monitor off and walks upstairs to her bedroom, where he finds her sitting up. Her smile is sleepy and she makes grabby hands for him with her stuffed lion tucked under her arm.

“Daddy,” She beams at him.

“Slept well, Kai?” Levi asks and she doesn’t reply, instead tucking her face into his neck. Levi brushes his lips over her forehead as he carries her downstairs. She’s still warm from her nap, grey eyes blinking sleepily. 

Levi gets started on dinner with Kaiya on his hip and feeds her spoonfuls of sauce and bits of meat here and there, which she accepts eagerly. She smiles widely with her nose scrunched when she likes it. You’d claim that her smile is identical to Levi’s, but he disagrees.

He’d tell you that everything good about Kaiya comes from you.

Levi gets lost in his thoughts of you, wondering if you’re on your way home. He’s having trouble remembering the last time you both had gone to bed together without the melancholy of your work schedule hanging over your head.

He sighs. Kaiya hears him and looks up curiously.

“Daddy?” Kaiya says, patting his cheek, “Mama?”

“Mama’s comin’ home late, kid,” Levi says, “Again. Do you miss her?”

Kaiya lets out a sigh suspiciously similar to his.

“Yeah. Me too, kid.”

***

By the time you come home, it’s well past dinnertime. Levi had left out a plate for you, but by now, it’s cold. You kick your heels off and place them in the closet neatly, grimacing at the covered plate on the dinner table and your empty living room.

You can almost taste Levi’s disappointment. But you just want to see Kaiya, you know she’ll be able to cheer you up.

What a shitty day. Shitty week. Shitty month. With every day that goes by, you’re getting closer and closer to telling your boss to shove his foot up his ass. 

You immediately head into Kaiya’s bedroom, where you’re certain Levi is telling her a bedtime story. You’re not even sure what time it is- is she asleep? Are you too late?

You hate bringing the smell of work home, preferring to change into comfy clothes before greeting Kaiya and Levi with a kiss. But you can’t wait, not tonight. Not when you know that Levi is upset with you and when you miss Kaiya so much that you ache.

“Kaiya?” You whisper, “Kaiya, baby?”

“Mama!” Kaiya squeals, looking up from the book that Levi’s reading to her, “Hi, mama!”

You kneel next to her bed and open your arms for a hug. She jumps into your arms happily and you kiss her cheeks and her forehead as she giggles wildly.

“I missed you, baby,” You mumble, holding her close, “So much.”

You pull away and cup her cheeks tenderly, rubbing with your thumb. Kaiya only looks at you with the same disarming silver eyes that belong to Levi. Her eyes are soft when she looks at you, her grin bright and toothy.

“Daddy, story,” Kaiya says, pointing to Levi.

“Can mama join?” You ask quietly, looking at Levi.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course mama can join,” Levi murmurs, patting the spot next to him.

You don’t even admonish him for saying ‘stupid’ in front of your daughter and he says nothing about you wearing your work clothes in his daughter’s bed.

You kiss the corner of Levi’s mouth, taking his hand in his as he continues to read to Kaiya. He squeezes your hand every so often, listening to the way Kaiya gasps and giggles at the story. Levi doesn’t tell the story with much fanfare or gusto- he tells it just the way Kaiya likes. With the always present dry intonation of his voice.

You think it’s Kaiya’s favorite sound in the world.

Kaiya points at the picture in the book and giggles, looking up at you for confirmation that you can see what she’s pointing at. You hold her hand and laugh with her too, melting at the way her smile holds your world in it.

After a few more pages and a few more laughs, Kaiya begins to grow tired. She rests her head against your arm, stifling a yawn. You rub her back to lull her into sleep but she tries to stay awake.

“Are you sleepy, Kaiya baby?” You coo, kissing her forehead.

She doesn’t reply, instead closing her eyes. It only takes a few more forehead kisses and back rubs for her to fall into deep sleep. You smile at Kaiya and look at Levi, offering him a small smile as well.

“Did you eat?” Levi asks, nudging your shoulder and gesturing for you to get up.

“No, I put it in the fridge. Not really hungry. Just want to be with you and Kaiya,” You murmur.

Levi gives you a long stare and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t be stupid. Go eat. I know you probably haven’t eaten since noon. Because of your shitty boss,” Levi says pointedly.

You sigh, heading into your bedroom to change out of your work clothes and wash up before heading downstairs.

He doesn’t join you.

You eat quickly, somewhere halfway between enjoying and savoring all of the flavors and barely chewing so that you can go upstairs to talk to Levi. You wash the dishes in the sink quickly before double checking the locks and heading to your bedroom.

Levi’s in bed, reading a book and casts a look of acknowledgement to you. It feels odd, devoid of his usual affections. You know why. Because he’s upset with you.

You curl next to him, cupping his cheek to get him to look at you. Levi sighs heavily and casts his book on the nightstand.

“Your job is fuckin’ shitty,” Levi says without missing a beat, “Kaiya misses you. A lot.”

I miss you. A lot. The words hang in the air.

“I know, I’m sorry. I hate it,” You whisper, crumbling under his scorching gaze, “I didn’t want-”

“So? What are you gonna do about it?” Levi asks flatly, voice full of ice, “It’s your dream job, right?”

It unnerves you.

“Levi,” You say hollowly, “Don’t be like that-”

“Not bein’ like anything,” Levi says easily, “Your daughter fuckin’ misses her mama. This is the first time you’ve tucked her into bed properly in who knows how long- she asks for you all the time, always asking for her mama. And where is her mama? At work-”

“Levi,” You beg quietly, “Levi, stop-”

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” Levi says hotly. You raise your eyebrows when you hear the emotion in his voice. He’s clearly been thinking this for quite some time.

“I’m sorry,” You plead, taking his hands in yours.

He pulls them away from you and your lips part in a surprised ‘o’. You’re quickly confronted with how much you’ve been hurting him.

“Levi, I’m gonna fix it. I swear- I’m gonna fix it, I’ve already talked to my boss a-and told him I can’t do this anymore-” You blubber, tears forming in your eyes.

“Can’t do what anymore?”

“The late nights-”

“Yeah, they’ll stop for what? A week? Then start back up again,” Levi scoffs coldly, “You promised you’d fix this. So fix this.”

“Levi- stop,” You mumble, “You’re being mean-”

You can’t help it- you start to cry harder, fat tears pool in your dark eyes and roll down your cheeks, as your bottom lip trembles. You let out a loud sob and turn away from him, not able to meet his eyes. Levi blinks at you, almost nervously. 

“Shit,” Levi says under his breath, “Shit-”

He wipes your tears from your cheeks and pulls you into his chest, his chin over your head. His arms are tight around you, heartbeat lulling you into calm. Neither of you say anything for a few minutes, despite the apology on the tip of his tongue.

Levi hates seeing you cry, especially when he is the cause of your tears. But he knows, even if his words were cruel, the problem still exists.

It takes a few minutes for you to breathe and for your sobs to reduce to sniffles. 

“I’m trying, baby,” You mumble, “I told him I need to scale back. But- he’s just so, fucking-“

And then you start to cry again. Levi wonders if there’s more to it than you’ve been saying. He wonders if there’s more of a problem than just late nights. Levi rubs your cheek with his thumb, giving you a few more minutes to gather your thoughts.

“Is something else going on?” Levi asks, most of the heat gone from his voice.

You’re quiet again, looking up at him. Trying to figure out how to allow the words to bubble up and leave your throat.

“What is it, angel?” He asks, cupping your chin for you to meet his eyes.

“He’s just so,” You sigh, “He’s so… mean. He talks down to me sometimes when we have group meetings- and I don’t even realize until the meeting’s been said and done. God, I hate what a boys club it is there. 

Oh, and his favorite is that one guy who always steals credit for the work that I do- and he said he’d dock my bonus if I didn’t start picking up the slack, but I am, I’m picking up everyone’s fuckin’ slack and all I’m good at doing is hurting you and hurting Kaiya- and I n-never wanted to be like that. 

I never wanted to be the person who put their career in front of their family. I should be able to have both, but not- not like this.” Your rant ends with a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

“Angel,” Levi breathes, kissing your forehead, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I could handle it,” You mutter honestly, “But I can’t. I need to get out, Levi.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Levi says, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You didn’t. It’s okay, I get it. I get it.”

“I should’ve helped you. Not yelled at you.”

“How could you know? I didn’t say anything,” You scoff, slipping your hand under his shirt to rub his chest. You missed him, and this.

“Thought we said no secrets,” Levi says lightly, “No more. We’ll figure it out.”

“‘M not working for most of next week. I need a break,” You say, pressing yourself closer to Levi.

“Good. We’ll figure it out, alright?” Levi says and squeezes your hand. He dips his head for a kiss, and you can taste the sweetness of his unsaid apology.

“You, me and Kaiya?” You ask with a small smile.

Levi nods, quelling your fears with a series of featherlight kisses that deepen quickly. His hands wander your ribcage, holding you close and warming you up from within. Silver eyes melt into your brown, and you’re reassured by his steady strength.

You’ll be okay. You, him and Kaiya. You’ll be okay.

tags: @simpingmaize

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #snk x reader #levi fluff #dad levi #aot x reader

[dracosaurusrex]

Fireworks (pt. 2)

Summary: The kiss that was supposed to be practice ends up opening your eyes to the feelings that you hold for your best friend, and he for you. Glances, smiles, playful banter--they all change. Suddenly, Draco Malfoy isn’t the same boy you once knew and grew up with.

Genre: Fluff; Childhood friends-to-lovers

Wordcount: 3.5k

A/N: I hope you’re not tired of me posting ahaha. I’ve had this draft laying around all week, but I finally got to it thank to the headcanon requests! I hope you enjoy! Feedback is very much appreciated :)

Part 1

The world suddenly looked different--your world, that is. 

For eleven years, up until now, Draco took up a huge part of your life. Although he was notorious for his obnoxiousness, memories of your childhood were painted with boundless laughter, basking in the warmth of many summer suns, thrills of tomfoolery during lavish events, cozy winter nights with cups of hot chocolate in hand. Even in your most awkward moments, he was there through it all, providing moral support despite his prickly demeanor. 

He was the physical embodiment of a safety net, your safety net, and it remained that way throughout your three (going on to four) years of schooling at Hogwarts.

But now your world looked different. Now your cheeks flared at the sight of silvery eyes. Your heart beats flared with a flash of platinum blonde. The smirk that you were once so confident in returning now left you with a surge of butterflies. With the softness of his lips ingrained in your memory, every glance, every smile, every laugh that you’d share with your best friend ignited a fire within you.

It also didn’t help your cause when you overhear other girls talk about his handsomeness. You weren’t opposed to it before, but now you understood what they meant whenever they gossiped about his broad shoulders, his lean physique, the way the tone of his voice deepened pleasantly--heck, even his hands. All of those things that you never bothered noticing amplified the moment his lips parted from yours, and you didn’t like it one bit.

Draco Malfoy was supposed to be your annoying and slimy best friend—not the person who made your heart race. He was the one to tackle you in the mud—not the one you would ever picture yourself fantasizing about. 

You memorized the gaze the both of you had shared as he parted from your lips slowly, hesitantly. With the foreign expression plastered on his face, you knew from that very moment the boy in front of you wasn’t the same one you grew up with. Moreover, the emotions that arose from the thought of him were very questionable. They felt foreign and weird, and it scared you. Therefore, you did what anybody in denial would do--suppress the rosy palpitations, and carry along with your day.

It worked for a while except that in doing so, you had to avoid him. All conversations were kept short and straight to the point, time spent together was limited—it was to no surprise that you became distant.  Draco noticed this, although he tried to use anything but the kiss to justify the lack of interaction. The boy placed you on a pedestal. You were the epitome of dedication in his eyes. Your willingness to commit yourself to hard work was something he admired about you. He took pride in all of your accomplishments, while you in his, and he was eternally grateful that you stuck around despite his shortcomings. 

Perhaps that’s why it shocked him when he came to realize how pretty you’ve become. The baby fat that once occupied your cheeks melted away. Your hair, which was always messy from the frequent play dates, laid straight down your back, tucked neatly behind your ear on one side, while it flowed down naturally on the other. The mischievous glint in your eyes had transformed to one of elegance and poise. Furthermore, the lips that you left slightly chapped before, now took on a soft pink sheen accompanied with a velvety feel when pressed against his own. The kiss merely opened his eyes, to an attraction that budded within. One that, just like you, he was afraid of. 

‘Godric, Malfoy, stop it with the thoughts. Y/N’s your best friend!’ 

And maybe distance was what was needed for you both. ‘This is what’s best for our friendship.’ He’d think as he stared at you from afar. The smile plastered on your face was more than enough to reassure him that everything would be alright. You are Y/N after all.

However, time proved to be against as you began to drift away from one another with every passing week. The boy didn’t come back to your room, leaving you with mixed feelings of relief and disappointment. A part of you longed to feel him again, while another found it to be a disastrous idea. Nevertheless, with emotions of both parties submerged within, you resumed your days flipping through sheets of parchment, while Draco took it upon himself to find ways to get you out of his head. Amongst them all was the companionship of a familiar Pansy Parkinson. She always had feelings for the boy, although the time he spent with you made him oblivious to the fact. It was only until her recent closeness that he began to notice her. Her giddiness contrasted to yours, but the similarity of her character pulled him into her company. Soon enough, the sight of them laughing and conversing became more frequent in the common room, in the Great Hall, even sometimes as you passed them in the hallways. You’d never spare a glance, you wouldn’t allow yourself to. Yet, as your figure made its way to Draco’s eyes, he gazed at you with longing, his heart tightening ever so slightly as you walked by. 

Within your room, in the midst of stacked textbooks, piles of paper, and splattered ink stains, was a pain that seared through your chest. One that you had to keep hidden, merely for the fact that you didn’t know what to do with the feelings you bore inside. Your knee bounced in place while the grip on your quill loosened as Draco entered your thoughts once again. The scenarios playing in your mind grew progressively worse as images of the boy and the raven-haired girl proliferated your surroundings. Before you could wallow in your sadness, the sudden opening of your door startled you.

“Y/N!” A shrill voice occupies your ears as Draco walks into the room, once again, unannounced. It was just like the last time.

“When will you ever learn how to knock, Draco?” You brought your fingers to your temples, massaging them slightly.  “What is it now?” 

The sound of your annoyed voice, oddly enough, brought him a sense of reassurance. It was familiar, and although he wouldn’t admit it, it highlighted how much he missed you.

You turned yourself in your chair to face him as he sat himself on your bed. It was the first time in a long while that you looked at him directly in the eyes, suddenly remembering how silvery they were. You raised your brows towards him, lifting your chin momentarily to urge him to speak.

The words that he had formulated in his mind left him the minute he took in your features. You propped your arms on top of the head rest, fixating your cheek upon it. The action squished your lips into a small pout. The light emitted from the lake above brought a glow to your dark eyes as it pierced into his. You both allow a comfortable silence to situate, amplifying the sound of his heart beat as they chime against his ear. But, within the spur of the moment, he suppresses it once again. Tearing away from his thoughts, he recalls his reason for coming to you in the first place.

“I think I like Pansy Parkinson.” He says. You felt your expression drop slightly before forcing the ends of your lips into a smile.

“R-Really? I’m happy for you. It’s about time, honestly.” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and the lack of excitement didn’t go unnoticed by the boy in front of you. Your body language altered drastically--in one second you gazed at him with doe eyes only to be turned away, orbs glazed with what seemed like sadness, in the next.

“Yeah, thanks. I suppose she’ll be my proper first.” 

You chuckled, “Yeah, I suppose so.”  

“I hope she feels the fireworks.” You say. A brief memory crossed your mind as you looked at the small details of his shoes. You sucked the tears that glossed your vision before redirecting it to him, giving the most genuine smile you could conjure at the moment.The softness laced within your tone poked at the boy’s heart. Within that second, he envisioned the feel of your lips, creating hesitation towards the attraction he felt for Pansy.

“Maybe we could go on a..uh..double date? You can bring someone you’d like.” 

You lifted your hand at the suggestion, which was followed by a breathy laugh. 

“That’s where I have to draw the line, love.” 

He found it confusing, really. Here you were, sat before him, with a smile settling across your lips. Although he came to you to tell you about Pansy, the sight of you initiated flips in his chest. There was something in your aura that wasn’t present before. Not wanting to delve into it, he pushes the idea to the back of his mind for the third time that day.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t worry. You’ll get your real first kiss soon.” He says. It makes you roll your eyes.

“Enough, Draco. Like I said before, I’m not waiting for it.” A small, gentle smirk appears as he reaches out for your arms. With a firm grip, he makes you look at him.

“I never noticed before, but I suppose you’ve become beautiful these past years, Y/N. Any guy would be lucky to-”

“Stop. Stop. Stop.” At this point, heat had risen to your face, your smile suppressed into a firm line. “Really, Draco. I don’t need your pity, or whatever it is you’re doing right now.” 

“Can’t take the truth?”

“Isn’t Pansy waiting for you?” You stood up, and grabbed his arm, leading him to the hallway. It shocked him, but he couldn’t find the means to respond when your head was the only thing sticking out of your door.

“Tell me how the kiss goes, yea?” You threw him one last wink before locking the door behind you. Unbeknownst to the boy on the other side, you slid down, allowing the tears to fall. 

—

Dinner rolls around, followed by the late hours of the evening, early hours of the morning, a whole day, held together in repetition until a week passes since the moment you kicked the boy out of your confines. You cursed yourself for being ahead in your assignments, because now you were stuck with the immense discomfort that your crush had brought you. You never bothered involving anyone in your problems. Instead you opted to take on the burden for yourself, and hoped that the coming days would heal you. As a result, you found yourself walking along empty hallways and corridors with your heart in distraught, your mind lost in thought.

‘Stupid Draco. If only it weren’t for your stupid idea then maybe I wouldn’t grow to care so much.’ Your steps had a little more weight to them as you continued to wander around.

As soon as you were about to turn into another hallway, the sound of two familiar voices drove you to a halt. One belonged to the platinum-haired boy, and the other to Pansy. There were hushed giggles--they almost sounded flirtatious. You quieted your thoughts to listen in.

“You’re quite the charmer, Parkinson.” 

“I suppose I can say the same for you, Malfoy.” The feeling of your heart raging against your chest increased as the silence lingered on.

“Draco?” She asks.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.” Before you could picture anything more, you walked away, using your hand to cover the gasp that tried to escape from your mouth. Hot tears streamed down your face as the pain from heartbreak coursed through you. You brought this upon yourself. You shouldn’t have said yes.

Oblivious to your presence, Draco kissed Pansy with much confidence in what you had taught him, with much confidence that he’d feel the fireworks. But when he didn’t feel anything, he was brought to a state of confusion. He liked her, right? Right? Yet the feel of her lips wasn’t the same. It was firmer, more stiff, and it lacked the warmth that accompanied yours. 

Yours. 

Yours. 

Yours.

With his eyes still closed, lips parted from the girl’s, he began to envision you. He leaned in once more with your image in mind, capturing her into another kiss. It still didn’t feel the same, but the you in his thoughts elicited the fireworks in his chest. All the memories he spent with you growing up flashed through his conscious until a recent memory of that fateful day resurfaced. He didn’t like Pansy. Sure, he was attracted to her, but she didn’t come close to you. He was sure of that. In that moment, he knew that it was you.

He parted from her abruptly the second time around. His expression was painted with shock as he loosened his grip from the girl’s face. She saw the way his eyes widened--not out of awe, but rather out of realization. It didn’t take her long to realize that the girl that occupied his heart wasn’t her.

“You thought of Y/N, didn’t you?” She said hesitantly. When she didn’t hear an objection coming from him, she flashed a lopsided smile. 

“I-I’m sorry, Pansy.” Draco’s shoulders slumped over. She gripped them in a comforting manner.

“Don’t be, Draco. If it makes you feel any better, this only helped me confirm that I probably don’t like boys in that way.”  She chuckled. The look he gave her only made her shrug before they broke out in laughter.

“Who is it?”

“Luna Lovegood.”

“Oh goodness,” He covered his red-clad face, “What do I do with Y/N?”

“She’s your best friend, right? Do what you normally do.” She pauses as she rubs his back, “If you go now, you might catch her before dinner.” Draco didn’t waste a second to bolt off and find you. It was his sole purpose of his life at that point. He had to tell you. He couldn’t bear to keep it in, pretending that it wasn’t there. He needed to feel you again, to hold you in his arms, to share the laughs, the joy--he needed you by his side.

--

The sun was setting by the time you settled for a seat in the courtyard. Broad rays of gold and orange painted the stone-clad floors as you look at the landscape in the distance. The tears that had streaked your face dried, and your heart rested in ease. There was no denying your feelings anymore. You fell for your best friend, maybe much harder than you had initially thought. 

A sigh escapes you as the scenery brings you peace of mind. Off in a distance, footsteps could be heard, growing louder as they neared you. You felt beats skip once again at the chances that it might be Draco. Instead, you were met with Cedric Diggory. 

A warm, polite smile greeted you, “Mind if I sit here?” He asks. You nod as he settles in the seat beside you.

“A beautiful sunset isn’t it? I always thought Hogwarts looked beautiful in gold.”

“You’re not wrong.” You peeked once more at the sun set before turning your vision towards him. 

“What brings you here Y/L/N?”

“I needed to take my mind off of some things.” Cedric, who was nothing but kind and welcoming, made it easy for you to open up. You didn’t expect to tell him anything, but he proved to be a good listener--offering his say when needed, keeping quiet as you continued to vent. It reminded you of Draco. It reminded you most especially of the times in your life when all you needed was someone to listen, and it was him to fill that role. Every single time. As the conversation drawled on, the platinum-haired boy occupied your thoughts. There was a fine line between the company both had kept, and you missed him.

“You know, Y/N, it’s never good to bottle things in. Especially when it comes to your best friend.”

“I know...I just don’t want to ruin this any more than it already has.”

“Well maybe right now is a good place to start.” You looked at him only to see his line of sight directed forward. You followed it, only to trace it back to a furious-looking Draco Malfoy. Cedric stood up and turned to you.

“I wish you luck.” The sweet smile on his face was capable of fooling the boy standing at a distance. You return your thanks before he steps away, leaving you alone to refocus your attention to your best friend. 

Draco, with his lips pulled into a frown, marched his way to where you are, and harshly pulled you up by the wrist. You didn’t have time to retaliate, giving him the opportunity to drag you into a secluded hallway, away from the eyes of other students.

“Did I just see you flirting with Cedric Diggory?” His tone, cruel and cold, made your blood boil.

“What does it matter to you?” The boy furrowed his brows at you.

“You’re my best friend, of course it matters to me!”

“Well not everything I do is not always your business! In fact, shouldn’t you be with Pansy right now? Stop bugging me, and go to your girlfriend!” You poured out the pain and frustration you kept inside, while Draco absorbed everything you had to offer. This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned the conversation to play out. As the exchange continued to play out, you both unknowingly stepped closer to one another.

“We’re not together!” He shouts, flailing his arms. You staggered back for a second, shocked at his response. 

“I-I thought...But I saw you! She asked you to kiss her!” You pointed an accusatory finger at the boy as he closed his eyes in annoyance. When he opened them, he pulled your wrist, and brought you closer to him. The gaze that he set on you was intense and filled with passion--it was the same look he gave you when you shared your first kiss. 

“I did,” You tried tugging yourself at the sound of his voice, only to make him grip you tighter. “I did, but I didn’t feel the fireworks.”

“What?” Draco let out a smile in response to the awe within your voice.

“It was only when I thought about you that I felt them. I’m stupid, I know--you know.” You softened your eyes.

“What are you trying to say, Draco Malfoy?” Before he responds, he loosens his hold, and intertwines his fingers into yours.

“That day, when we practiced--I felt it then. The fireworks. It was only with you.” Your heart has been through it today, but for the first time it erupts in sheer joy and relief. 

“I felt it too.” The statement you made was quiet, but it was genuine, it was heartfelt, and it was enough for Draco to pull you into a hug.

“I love you, you know that?” He whispers into your ear.  You chuckle, all the tension that has built up is swept away as you gingerly wrap your arms around his waist.

“Because we’re best friends or... as lovers?” He doesn’t respond right away. Instead he caresses your face and sweeps the loose strands of hair to the side. You allow your eyes to flutter closed to relish his gentle touch.

“Both.” Without much left to be said, he presses his lips against yours. The feelings, the fireworks--they’re all exactly like the first, if not even better. However, this time there was something more. With every kiss he plants on your lips is an overflow of emotions you never saw coming. His hands travel up against your sides, settling on the small of your back before flushing your body against his. In turn, you wrap your arms around his neck, allowing the kiss to open up even more. Fingers entangle the hair of each lover as longing flows through the intimate form of communication.

“Draco?” You ask, breaking away slightly. No response. Within the next second, you find your lips to be caught in his again.

“Yes?” The feel of him was so addicting that your question got lost in thought. It was only until you felt his hand going lower, giving your ass a soft squeeze, that you pulled away flustered. With a laugh spilling out of your lips, you send the boy a playful slap on his chest. He brought his hand back up slightly, allowing it to linger just a couple inches above the part of your body he was so tempted to grab. He looked at you with a goofy smile on his face. 

“I can’t believe you’re the boy I grew up with.”

“It is I,” He pecks your lips, “in the flesh.” With a final peck, he leans his forehead against yours. The silence that follows soon after is filled with peace. All the conflicted emotions vanish completely as you find one another in each other’s arms. 

“Y/N, my lovely lovely best friend, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Gladly.”

A/N: Hehe thank you for reading if you made it this far! I hope you have a wonderful day <3 Once again, feedback is very much appreciated!

Tagging:

@beiahadid @hahee154hq @mushi98 @stretchyice @dracosathenaeum @dreaming-about-fanfictions @saby06143 @rottenhexrt @littlethie @amithatemo @drxcomvlfx @svturtles @xoxohollands 

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #slytherin