#best body grow powder

[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

[chxrryhansen]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing; Dark!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

Warnings; CNC!!!! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. smut, extremely dark themes, unprotected sex, public sex, choking, drugging? (rafe manipulates reader into snorting a line) degrading terms (slut, whore) loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, breeding kink, size difference, daddy kink, dumbification, dacryphillia, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Based on x.

authors note; i really thought about never finishing this because i just haven’t had the motivation or wanted to write in quite a while. but i’ve been neglecting you guys! so i tried my best to finish it, however i literally hate this fic so much so please don’t come at me bc i know its shit😛 its around like 1.3k words so… take it or leave it ig.

“Hey, so uh, you come here often?” The boy says, rubbing his nose with his right finger while motioning with his beer filled hand to the party further down the beach.

Your friend had dragged you to one of the weekend bonfires at the beach, kooks only of course. Which is exactly what you were, a sheltered, spoilt, kook. Right down to the core.

Your family had given you everything you ever wanted growing up, paying for homeschooling from the best private tutor on the island, buying you whatever the new pair of heels on the market was, but that never deterred your sweet heart.

You weren’t a prude and even though you were, you didn’t act spoilt, you appreciated everything your family did for you. You didn’t have many friends considering the private life you lived. Your best friend was your neighbour, both of you having grown up together, your father and hers both being in the same business really tied the strings in your friendship.

She was quite the opposite of you, partying every weekend, hanging out with boys and drinking to the point she was incapable of walking. Long story short, she had begged you to come, a promise of a sleepover and movie night afterwards.

Except that wasn’t the case. Within 15 minutes she had found a new man to latch onto, leaving you sitting by yourself on a wooden log infront of a small campfire someone must’ve ditched.

You looked up, a tall muscular boy with a backwards cap staring down at you, his pretty blues lighting up in the reflection of the fire. You didn’t answer him, being too caught up in the flare of his strong presence. His aura was engulfing, your body instantly being drawn to him.

You didn’t know it of course, but Rafe did.

One look at your pretty face and the sweet scent of your purity and he just knew he had to have it. A smirk appeared on the boys face as he took a seat on the log next to you, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Gonna’ answer me, sweetheart?”

“Uhm, n-no not really, it’s my first. My friends around here somewhere… not sure where she went.” You murmured.

Rafes smirk widened, how blessed he was to have stumbled upon a sweet, innocent, little bunny like you.

“S’okay. I can keep you company. Name’s Rafe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white baggie filled with a powdery substance. Noticing your stare he asks “You want some?”

“What is that stuff?” you mumble, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

“This shits the good stuff, s’ like powdered sugar. Gets you feelin’ real good, one line of this and you’ll feel on top of the world, sweetheart.” he smirks moving closer to the point your knees touch, yet his eyes still don’t leave your own.

“C’mere, lay back a little.” and do you do.

Without question.

Which of course stirs Rafe’s dominant instinct, he just cant stop thinking about shoving you onto your knees and fucking your throat til you choke on his fat cock.

But he’ll save that for later.

Rafe proceeds to pour a little powder onto your chest, sitting perfectly above your perky tits. He then reaches into his pocket and picks out a bank card, then using it to create a smooth line on your chest.

He moves in. Snorting the line right off your tits. A tingly feeling appeared in between your thighs. The sensation of his hot breath on your chest making your own increase.

He leans back and looks towards the sky, his curtains framing his face as he does so, lifting a finger and closing a nostril he sniffs deeply, sighing in relief afterwards. “See, easy as that. Your turn, beautiful.”

“M’kay” you shrug.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Rafe shifts on the log, lying down on his back and spreading his lets wide. He repeats the process on his abs, pouring the coke, creating the line and then ushering you forwards.

“Remember. All you gotta’ do is cover one of your nostrils, and use the other to sniff it right up. You got that?”

“Mhm” You nod excitedly.

“Ah ah ah. Use your words.”

“Yes Rafe. I got it.” You whisper, your pretty doe eyes staring up at him.

“Good girl.” He groans as you begin to snort the coke from his abs. His cock is painfully hard which obviously you didn’t notice, his pre cum leaking from his swollen tip, desperate to have your soppy cunt wrapped around it.

Within 5 minutes the drugs had hit you.

Your head was spinning and your control of your own body wavy, your movements restricted.

“I-i feel kinda fuzzy. Don’t like it…think i’m gonna’ go home now.” Rafe debates begging you to stay, but a better plan crosses his mind.

An eery smirk appears across his handsome features. “How about i walk you, s’ not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out in the dark all by yourself.”

The second you’re out of sight from the beach a hand wraps around your mouth, Rafe’s body pressing your own against a tall tree, blocking any escape. Your eyes go wide in fear, tears beginning to well up as you attempt to scream.

Your tears should make him irritated, angry even. But it doesn’t. It only turns him on more. His dick growing harder by the second.

“Shut the fuck up or i-i swear to god i’ll slit your throat. Can’t believe you kept this innocent act up. I can practically smell how soaked you are you fuckin’ slut.”

Before you can even think of screaming you’re cut off by your own wail as Rafe’s cock disappears between your folds. He bottoms out in one harsh thrust, your legs become slack as he grips your hips, holding you upright on his length.

“So fuckin’ tight. Gonna’ fuck you so good you’ll forget your own god damn name.” He growls.

The sound of clapping skin begins to echo, the skin of your ass turning raw due to his brutal thrusts. The tears don’t stop, only beginning to mix with the drool and sweat leaking down your face. Your wails and whimpers turn to moans as your cunt soaks his length.

Rafe knew you were perfect, that’s why he picked you. But this just proved him right.

“Fuckkk. You like that? Who knew you’d be such a dirty whore f’ me.” He chuckles, throwing his head back in ecstasy, yet his thrusts don’t slow. His pace almost animalistic.

The sensation of your pussy clenching tells Rafe what he wanted to know.

Rafe lets out a loud groan. “Jesus. You’re gonna’ fuckin’ cum aren’t you? Getting off on your rapists cock. Ask me. Ask daddy if you can cum.”

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Please can i cum daddy? I need it s-so bad.” You whine, shifting your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his shaft, your back still pinned against the tree.

“Cum. Cum for daddy. Holy shitttt, pussys grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.”

Your cream coats his cock as you scream, biting your lip harshly to try and muffle your pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole beach heard that from here you dumb slut.” He groans, lifting a hand to fist your hair, tugging harshly.

His thick cock continues to pummel your insides, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

As Rafe looks down he notices a glint of red at the base of his shaft. The sight of your cream and blood alone brings him closer to the edge.

“Gonna’ cum in this pretty cunt, can’t wait to fill you up, baby. Daddy’s gonna’ cum.”

His release is met with a loud growl, his balls throbbing as his load fills you, thick ropes of his hot cum shoot into your pussy.

“That’s ittttt. fuck. Taking my cum like such a good girl.”

Rafe is slow to pull out, inching you off his cock as he pants trying to catch his breath. His hold however never leaves you, ensuring you don’t fall due to the brutal fucking you just received.

His attention is grabbed at the sound of your sobs, his thumb swiping over your cheek and collecting your tears. His pretty blues stare into your own, almost waiting for you to run.

But you don’t.

“Shh Shh Shh. No more tears. Daddy’s gonna’ take care of you from now on.”

[figthoughts]

combat knife - soldier boy 18+

summary: soldier boy can’t help but find it amusing when you decide to hold a knife to his throat when you’re high. (soldier boy x gf!reader).

warnings: light smut, dom!soldier boy, swearing, drug use, slight degradation talk, knife play (slightly).

+

“i said shut your mouth,” soldier boy commanded, his big hand wrapped around your throat, “why don’t you ever fuckin’ listen?”

“ben! just one more line…. please?” you whined, giving him your best puppy dog eyes as you straddled him on the couch. “c’mon, i’ll be so good,” you glanced down at the crushed bennies on the coffee table, wanting more, despite the last bump still making your head spin slightly.

“fuck, alright,” he grunted, “just quit your bitchin’ and moaning. s’doing my fuckin’ head in.”

“yeah, course. whatever you say, sir,” you smiled down at him as he grabbed his combat knife off the coffee table and scooped some powder onto the blade.

soldier boy rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a smirk. sir. goddamn it. why did you always know what to say? he swallowed as his cock twitched and he shifted his hips under yours.

“watch it.” he warned as he lifted the knife up to you. he watched you bring your nose just above the powder. “and watch the fuckin’ blade. i’m not dealing with you if you cut your damn lip again. get all pathetic and whingy.”

“oh, shut up. not even.” you narrowed your eyes, trying to prevent the grin from growing on your face.

you closed your eyes and snorted. fuck. that feeling never gets old. you felt the euphoria wash over you and you let out a pleased hum.

“feel good, baby?” he smirked. god, he loved you like this. all carefree and high on his drugs, practically letting your body melt into his. he fucking loved it.

all you could do for a moment was just nod. the air around you felt thicker as you breathed it in. you rubbed your nose and sniffled, looking down at your boyfriend. fuck, he’s handsome.

“words, babygirl.” he raised his brows.

“s’good.” was all you managed to moan out as a smile grew on your face. you closed your eyes and breathed in more of the thick air through your nose.

“you’re so fuckin’ sexy when you’re like this,” soldier boy smirked, “all messy and smiley, not a damn thing in that little head of yours, huh?” he poked your side and your hips jerked involuntarily. your eyes opened and flickered to his.

“there she is,” he cooed, leaving the knife on his chest, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

“mmm, shut up,” you felt your cheeks heat up slightly under his intimidatingly smug gaze.

soldier boy studied your face as he held you in place by your hips. “uh-uh, be good for me now. i let you have another bump, so don’t be actin’ like that.”

you closed your eyes and let out a soft hum as the thick air cuddled around you like a warm blanket. you felt good. soldier boy kept his eyes on you, watching every little movement you made. he could tell you’d had more than enough.

“look at you, can’t even speak.” he chuckled mockingly, giving your hips a squeeze. “so fuckin’ desperate to get like this, aren’t ya?”

you smiled sheepishly, your eyes still squeezed shut. he wasn’t wrong. there’s nothing you liked more than this; sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, his hands all over you as your brain slowly turns to mush from the drugs. it felt good.

soldier boy loved it too, seeing his girl get all soft and so, so compliant. he couldn’t help but want to touch you.

he squeezed your hips again, causing your eyes to flutter open. he smirked and let one of his hands wander down to your inner thighs, closing in on your core. your breath hitched.

“something wrong, angel?”

“n-no…”

“that’s what i thought. be a good girl and keep that mouth shut. i’m sick of sayin’ it.” he moved his hand up the leg of your pyjama shorts, his fingertips tracing along the hem of your panties.

soldier boy grinned as he saw your eyes drop down to his hand, your lids heavy and your mouth parted, the drugs obviously hitting you harder now.

he slipped his fingers into your panties, finding your pussy already soaked. “god, you’re such a slut… already so wet, baby.”

you groaned and covered your face with your hands. yes, you were already wet and he hadn’t even done anything yet. you felt his fingers gently begin to rub your clit. sparks shot up through your nerves, forcing a moan out of your mouth. god, this felt good high… it always does.

“look at me.” soldier boy muttered firmly, his fingers still teasing your pussy.

you reluctantly dropped your hands and found his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as he studied your expression.

“always so embarrassed, huh? i don’t know why… you know you love it when i make you cum on my fingers,” he teased, his fingers speeding up slightly as they moved through your folds.

you let out a moan and dropped your hands to his chest, trying to steady yourself.

“yeah, that’s it. give in, baby. show me what a little slut you are for me,” the smirk remained on his face, his eyes tracing your every feature as his fingers pressed against your clit, forcing your hips to jerk forward.

soldier boy’s grip on your left hip tightened, holding you still. “keep. still.”

you looked at him with your jaw dropped, your brain fogged over from the drugs and the feeling of your boyfriend’s rough fingers against your pussy making breathy moans fall out of your mouth.

“fuuuckin’ look at you. pathetic,” he laughed, keeping up the speed on your clit, “a fuckin’ mess… and all i’ve done is rub your pretty little cunt.”

you whimpered at his words and tried to roll your hips on him, feeling his cock twitch beneath you. you needed more.

“uh! i said keep fuckin’ still.” he squeezed your hip, this time hard. you whimpered and he grinned, moving his hand from your hip to your jaw, forcing you to look down at him.

“yeah, keep whimpering, fuckin’ slut.” your lips parted as more soft moans rolled off your tongue. his fingers picked up the pace on your cunt. you felt yourself clench around nothing.

soldier boy must’ve felt it too. he let out a deep groan and tightened his grip on your jaw. “you gonna cum, baby? huh?” he taunted, letting out a throaty chuckle.

you whimpered again, feeling the familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. fuck. he kept up his relentless pace on your soaked cunt, unable to hide the smug look on his face as he watched you melt onto his hand.

“such a mess.” he laughed.

you whined and squeezed your eyes shut as your cunt kept clenching, desperate to be filled.

soldier boy’s cock could feel every movement of yours. he let out a rough breath, trying to keep himself under control, despite his cock beginning to harden under you.

“fuck, harder… please, sir. so close.” you begged, looking down at him. you tried again to move your hips, desperate for friction against your soaked pussy.

soldier boy pulled his hand out of your shorts. “i said shut up and keep still,” he yanked your face towards him, “can’t even do that, you braindead little slut.”

you whimpered loudly at the loss of his touch and frowned. you didn’t particularly like when he talked to you like that, especially when you were so close to cumming all over his thick fingers.

“ben…” you whined weakly, your head spinning from the drugs and the ache from your cunt.

“shut the fuck up. listen to me or don’t cum. your choice, princess.” he stated firmly. you frowned more.

soldier boy looked at the pout on your lips and cocked an eyebrow, letting out a mocking laugh. “pouting now, are we? c’mon, just do what i fuckin’ say, it’s not that damn hard.”

you let out a huff, the frown staying on your lips. your eyes drifted down to the knife on his chest. before you could think, you found your hand wrapping itself around the handle and putting the blade against soldier boy’s neck.

now, you weren’t stupid… well maybe you were right now, but at any other time you knew that a knife wouldn’t do shit to your supe boyfriend.

and he knew that too. he laughed and looked up at your pouting face, “really? this is what we’re going with?” he wrapped his hand over yours on the handle, pushing the knife against his throat more.

“go on, pet. try your luck.” he mocked with a smirk.

you could feel yourself getting huffy and desperate, just wanting him to lay off a little and give you the release your body so desperately craved. you pushed the blade harder against his neck. “fucking do something,” you whined, “need your fingers back…”

he smirked, “oh, yeah?”

you shoved the knife harder into his neck, still not doing any damage at all, “yeah! touch me, now!” you tried to demand, although it came out more like a desperate whine.

“alright, babygirl.” he laughed and yanked your waistband open, shoving his fingers back against your cunt.

your breath hitched and you tried to keep the firm look on your face as soldier boy’s fingers began to soothe the aching throb of your cunt.

“harder, now.” you said breathily.

he grinned and moved his fingers against your clit harder, resulting in more moans coming from you.

soldier boy kept his eyes on you as he worked his fingers against your slick pussy. he was enjoying this, letting you have your moment of dominance, the feel of the cool metal against his skin. he thought you were so cute, acting like a tiny blade could do any damage to a supe like himself.

normally, he’d have tied your fucking hands together for an act like this, but he couldn’t help it right now. this was amusing to him. he knew that you knew a knife wouldn’t hurt him, even if you tried your hardest. a weak little girl like you was no match for him. not at all.

you cried out as the pressure began building in your stomach again, “fu-uck!” your hips jolted forward as your pussy clenched. you were close. your hands dropped slightly as you moaned and ground your hips down onto his hand and hardened cock.

“nuh-uh,” soldier boy forcefully grabbed your wrist and moved the knife back against his neck, “fuckin’ keep it there. you started this.”

you pushed the knife against his throat again, your eyes finding his. he still had that stupid smug smirk on his face. you whined as you rocked your hips against his fingers. you could feel his cock twitching in his sweatpants beneath your cunt.

“that’s it, babygirl. make yourself cum. good girl.” he chuckled as his fingers moved faster and rougher on your clit. he could feel your cunt clenching around nothing, so fucking needy and desperate for his cock. you always got like this when he got you high with him. and he loved it. a guaranteed needy little hole for him every time.

“g-gonna- gonna cum…” you mumbled out, your words almost slurred as you tried focused on your release.

soldier boy smirked, “that’s it, baby. cum for me. cum on my fingers and show me who’s boss, huh?” he teased, his free hand pulling the knife back harder against his throat.

“oh, fuck!” you cried out, right at the edge of letting go. you leaned forward, unconsciously pushing the knife against his neck harder.

soldier boy grinned as he felt the metal press into his skin more, thanks to your heavy-handedness. obviously, the blade did no damage, not even pricking his skin slightly. this is fun, he thought.

he kept rubbing your pussy as firmly and expertly as he could, keeping his eyes locked on your scrunched up face, wanting to push you over the edge.

“come on, pet. cum for me.” he cooed, somewhat mockingly.

you felt the coil in your stomach snap and your cunt clenched and unclenched as you whined and whimpered through your orgasm.

soldier boy’s fingers didn’t stop though. he pushed you through your orgasm, not relenting the harsh force against your clit. he felt you try to pull your now sensitive pussy away.

he smirked and held you still, wanting to draw out the immense pleasure for as long as he could.

“oh, god… oh… f-fuck… so good…” you rambled on like some cockdrunk virgin, your eyes barely open as you looked down at him with a stupid smile on your face.

soldier boy smirked. you were so beautiful. so fucking cute. especially like this, when you’re barely coherent post-orgasm. he loved the way you reacted to him. to his touch.

as your mind cleared, you let out a deep breathy sigh. you pulled the knife back from his neck, “sorry ‘bout that,” you murmured softly, a slight sheepish smile playing on your lips.

“no. put it back. we’re not done.” soldier boy said gruffly and yanked the knife back to his neck, his hand slipping back into your panties.

A/N: hiii, hope u enjoyed! i didn’t really have a plan for this story, but yolo, right? idk. all ik is that i want soldier boy so bad !!!!!

feedback and requests are always welcome (love some inspo)!!! <3

[sunflowerwinds]

nobody but you | v.a

summary: you lost everyone close to you, including your best friend (and childhood crush) when you were fourteen years old and had to grow up on your own. seven years later, a ghost reappears, igniting those same feelings from all those years ago to come bubbling back up. bed-confessions lead to what you’ve wanted for years.

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: reader is described to wear skirts and have longer curly hair, reader’s nickname is star, mature language, mentions of vi and reader being each other’s first kiss, caitlyn being a third wheel (i’m so sorry :/), mature content: dry humping & hickies (vi!receiving)

a/n: …. hey. arcane is a new fixation and i HAD to write for her. inbox is open for more vi ideas! (modern or not) <33 4 DAYS until arcane🙂‍↕️!!!

That night that the explosion happened, you were a wreck. You had lost so many people that you held near to your heart; Vander, Claggor, Mylo, and Vi. As much as you hated to admit to yourself but losing her had the most impact on you.

Her body wasn’t found so everyone, including yourself, assumed that she was dead.

Powder, god, you couldn’t get to her before Silco did. When you arrived at the aftermath of the scene, she was gone and all that was left was a piece of a bomb that was undeniably Powder’s creation. Guilt settled within you at the rumors that spread of who Powder had become; Jinx.

It took years for you to become somewhat okay, falling into a new routine. With Silco running Zaun and dowsing the streets with shimmer, you had to watch people you knew become addicted and lose their minds over it.

You were alone.

It was a last resort but you took up a job at The Last Drop; as a barkeep. It was shitty pay but at least you had enough for food. It, of course, was nothing like when Vander owned the place. There was no family feeling or sense of comfort and unity.

You had accepted from that point on that this is how things were going to be. You live in the space above Benzo’s souvenir shop, making it your own home. Since his death, the space had been unoccupied. You took it upon yourself to make it yours.

It was decorated with remembrance of your late friends and knick-knacks you’ve collected from around the Lanes.

You had gotten off of your afternoon shift at the Last Drop, making your way back to the broken-down place you called home. You were ready to sit back and make dinner for yourself, sitting with your thoughts and silence. However as you approached the door to the shop, a weird sense settled into your gut.

The front door was open ever so slightly, barely noticeable at first glance. You usually would’ve dismissed it as a mistake on your part.

But this incident mixed with the weird feeling in your gut told you that this wasn’t just forgetting to close the door all the way. You hovered your hand over your leather holster that held your coins and a few ninja stars that you had been holding on to since you could hold one.

It was also helpful to hold up your extra layer of skirt.

Carefully, you peeked into the shop to see if you could see something or someone inside. From the small crevice, your sight was limited so you couldn’t confirm anything just yet. Lifting your left boot, you push the door open with the toe of your foot. You look into the shaded areas of the building, waiting for some form of movement.

Once you carefully step into the abandoned shop, you reach behind you to grab the doorknob to shut it closed. Your eyes flicker around the room, squinting in concentration as you continue to walk across the wooden floors.

A second passes and that’s when you hear a creak come from behind you. Reacting quickly, you grab a ninja star from the pocket of your belt and launch it into the darkness. The sound of the blade splitting into the wood and a grunt relax your worries somewhat.

Reaching for another star, you raise a hand to turn on the light to see who exactly made their way into the shop. Your face hardened as you lifted your arm once more, preparing to defend yourself.

The intruder stood against the shut door, eyes locked on the weapon in your hand.

“Star?”

They question you, stepping forward into the light.

You grip onto the ninja star tighter, confused as to how they know who you are. You suck in a deep breath, tilting your head as the strangers' features reveal themselves in the light. You squint for a moment before letting out a soft gasp, letting the bladed weapon slip from your fingers and onto the ground.

It couldn’t be. It was impossible.

Were you hallucinating? Have you finally reached your breaking point?

The hair, the bandaged arms, the same slope of her nose.

“Vi?” You breathe out, your eyes welling up with tears.

The pink-haired girl nodded, letting out a shaky breath herself. She took a few more careful steps towards you. You take the same amount of steps to meet her in the middle, throwing your arms around her neck with desperation. You let out a sob as you bury your face into the crook of her neck.

“It’s me, sweetheart. It’s me,” her voice was gentle in your ear, one of her bandaged palms cradling the back of your head while the other held you close by your torso.

Your eyes squint shut as you take in the fact that this is really happening. Vi was here; alive and so different. You pull away from her now-inked neck, brows furrowed from the questions rattling through your head.

“You… Where have you been?” You ask her softly.

“I got arrested and I’ve been in Stillwater since that night,” she explained carefully, one of her palms cradling your elbow.

“How are you here now? How did you get out?” Your eyes flicker to the ink on her cheek and the nose ring.

“I got released earlier today. I—I just had to see you. To make sure you were even…” Vi trailed off as she brushed a flyaway out of your face so she could really look at you.

The way you looked both so different and the same; how much you still look like that same girl that used to cut your fingers on your ninja stars. She remembers how you would try to hide the little slits on the tips of your fingers from her until you would physically wince from the cuts, forcing Vi to tend to the wounds.

You, unknowingly, did the same.

Too distracted just like how you would be all those years ago. Two teenage girls just trying to survive every day, secretly meeting up on the rooftops to snuggle dangerously close when everyone was asleep.

“When you said we were making a quick stop, I did assume it would be quick,” a posh English accent emerges from behind Vi, causing you to pull away from her comforting touch.

Vi let out a sigh before turning her head to peer at the tall woman standing in the doorway. You immediately recognize the attire underneath the small coat she was wearing and raise your hand to aim a ninja star at her. She was an enforcer.

Vi had an enforcer… get her out of prison?

“Who are you?” You snip, eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?” The dark blue-haired woman quipped back.

You hold back the scoff bubbling in your throat before Vi reaches forward to gently push your hand down. You hesitantly did so, still gripping onto the weapon between your fingers.

“I was thinking that maybe we could lay low here for a bit. Get some rest,” Vi attempts to ease your obvious tense figure.

“We?” You glance over at the woman watching her face soften.

“Yes. Just until tomorrow. Then we’ll be out of your hair to go to Babette’s.”

Voice still calm and gentle, Vi explained the situation at the moment. It turns out the tall woman’s name is Caitlyn, they’re looking for Powder Jinx because they believe she’s involved with an explosion that happened in Piltover.

You could see the desperation in Vi’s eyes when talking about her sister and your heart broke for her.

“Okay. I’m up top so,” you nod towards the door more into the shop that leads upstairs.

“Lead the way, Star,” Vi grinned, shoving her bandaged hands into her pockets.

You look over at Caitlyn who is standing right behind Vi, towering a bit over you both. You lead the pair to your living space, flicking on the light to reveal the new made up home. Vi whistled as she walked around the familiar space now made into more than just an attic.

“You did all of this?” She questioned with a smile as she walked over to the shelf of books and trinkets.

“Uh, yeah,” you feel a bit vulnerable knowing that both a stranger and past best friend who you thought was dead are in your home. “No rent, no roommates, just me.”

Your childhood friend traces the hanging lights from your ceiling, grinning for a moment when they make a soft twinkling noise. Being as nosy as she was, she made her way over to where you slept. Her eyes locked on the beaten-down table next to your table, focusing on the small ceramic bowl full of trinkets.

“Shit, you kept this?” Vi grabbed an item off the bedside table that was next to your bed that made your eyes widen with embarrassment.

It was a star ring that Vi had gotten (swiped from an antique shop) when you were thirteen. That day she gave it to you was also the day you brought up the idea of being each other’s first kiss to get it out of the way. Dating wasn’t a worry but you both agreed that you might as well ‘prepare for that day when you’d need to.’

It wasn’t the most amazing kiss, of course as you were preteens but you still became flustered the second you two made eye contact as you pulled away. You remember twiddling with the star ring after and how much you felt so cared for by someone.

“Oh yeah. It was to remember you by,” you sheepishly reply.

Vi hummed at your response, her smile creeping onto her lips as she set it down.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but is there someplace where I can rest?” Caitlyn questioned from behind you, seeming to be standing carefully near the door.

You glance over at Vi who had laid back on your bed, shutting her eyes with a sigh. One of her bandaged arms draped over her lower stomach while the other rested above her head on your flattened pillows.

“You can rest over here.”

You motioned for the tall woman to follow you. You walk around the wall, pushing back a curtain to a secret space where you usually allow some acquaintances from work or people in need to sleep, turning to Caitlyn with a friendlier grin.

“Thank you,” Caitlyn called after you as she sucked in a deep breath, looking around the small room. “For allowing me in your home.

“Thanks for bringing her back to me,” you nod.

Caitlyn nods in return, a small smile on her lips as she lowers herself on the dingy mattress.

“I know it’s not the ivory walls you’re used to but make yourself at home,” you notice the small, barely noticeable gap in between her front teeth as she smiles at you.

“It’s lovely,” her posh accent makes you chuckle.

You simply shake your head and shut the curtain to give Caitlyn some privacy. You recollect yourself as you think about Vi who is currently lying down on your bed. Vi perked up as she heard footsteps walking towards the bed, making eye contact with you as you rounded the bed to the other side.

“Hi,” you mutter as you lower yourself down on the opposite side of the bed, knee first.

“Hi,” Vi replied, her lips twitching into a small smile.

You can’t even hide the smitten smile on your face as you lay yourself down next to her, back on the mattress as well. Your palms rest above your navel as you try to act as normal as possible.

A tense silence filled the open room; the both of you not knowing what to say to one another. You could hear the shouting and loud music of the streets coming from your open window but all you could focus on was your own nervous breathing.

“I thought about you every day,” Vi’s the first to break the silence. “Every fucking day there, I thought about what it would be like coming back to you. I hoped you’d be here, Star. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone too.” Vi admitted as she shook her head, snuggling into your bed.

Your eyes bore into her side profile, admiring the slope of her nose and the ink etched into her cheek. You turn the rest of your body to match your head.

“You would’ve been okay,” you joke, weakly chuckling.

Vi blinks and looks over at you with a soft and meaningful gaze. She’s silent for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts before she speaks.

“Do you remember when we would go up to the roof of the Last Drop and talk about what we would do if we ever got out of here?” Vi questions gently, facing you so that you are face to face.

“Yeah,” you mutter, not knowing where she was going with it.

“Every scenario we talked about whether it was taking over the streets or getting bucket loads of cash to build a new life there, I never imagined what it would be like without you by my side. You were always… right here.” Vi breathed out, her gaze avoiding your own. “Now that I know what it’s like to have that reality, I don’t want it to happen ever again.”

“Vi,” you whisper with tears in your eyes.

Her eyes carefully lifted to meet yours, pupils dilated with vulnerability.

“I was so… scared you were gone too,” Vi whispered, hesitantly reaching for you but her hand retracted quickly.

You took the reins and carefully hooked your finger onto one of hers, sighing in relief at the touch. Vi stared at the courteous touch and wrapped her palm over your own, running her thumb over the back of your hand.

“Do you remember what happened after you gave me that ring?” You ask softly, using your free hand to brush a piece of her hair out of her face.

Vi wasn’t stupid. She knew you meant that kiss that put a pep in her step for a few weeks after; the girl that she had been crushing over since before she could remember. Not wanting to confront it head-on, she quickly stumbled out a little joke.

“I think I thought about doing that for months. Mylo wouldn’t stop giving me shit for it every time you came around, blowing kisses at me when you had your back turned.” Vi chuckled as she shook her head.

You smile at the mention of Mylo, not doubting it for a second. You, in a similar fashion, turned to Ekko for your little crush on Vi.

“You know, come to think of it,” you pretend to recall, “I remember you asking me an important question too.”

Vi wanted to punch herself in the jaw as you brought up another rather embarrassing moment. She could see it now; two teens sitting on a rooftop, shoulder to shoulder after sharing a quick peck and avoiding each other’s eyeline.

“We could be each other’s… back up when we get older, you know.” A fidgety thirteen-year-old Vi had proposed.

You remember glancing down at bright-colored streets and clouds that intoxicated the air of Zaun. Vi glanced over at you to see if you had even heard her as you had gone completely silent.

“Back up?” You questioned, your voice still going through the ups of puberty.

“Yeah, well, when we’re old, like, forty or something and have no one else, we could be each other’s.”

Vi didn’t really explain what that meant at the time but you agreed with ease. You knew how much you would do for Vi; maybe it was a little obsessive and unhealthy but she had a grip on you that you hoped never left.

Neither of you were near forty yet but there was a sliver of hope you could enact that pact today.

Something took over you after that confession and you scoot your body closer to hers. You reach your hand up to brush your hair out of her face, cupping the side of her face. Vi held onto your wrist as you began to lean into her.

Before you could even comprehend it, Vi pressed her lips to yours. Your eyes widen at the sudden movement, releasing her face in shock. Her hand was still gripping onto your wrist as her lips moved against your own.

After the initial surprise of the kiss, you follow her rhythm. You place your hand back onto her cheek as you suck in a deep breath, letting yourself enjoy what you have been craving to redo after seven years.

The soft smack of your kisses and you and Violet humming against each other's lips silently drove you insane.

“I missed you so much,” Vi mutters against your lips.

You sigh at the confession, warmth blooming in your chest.

“Never thought I'd get to do this,” you confess. “To be with you like this, Vi.”

Vi’s palms move down your body, rubbing down your sides carefully like you were going to disappear at any moment. Years of confinement and getting into fights with inmates led her to this very moment; the only person in her life that was really here for her.

“And now that you are doing it?” Vi questions, her big rounded eyes boring into your own.

“I don’t want it to stop.”

Vi beams at that and you dive back into her lips, humming against the gentle touch of her lips. This second time around was more hungry, eager for one another. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of her bandaged arms wrapped around your waist as you kissed like you needed her; craved her.

Oh, how needy you were at that moment: selfishly grabbing onto her like she could disappear at any moment. She wasn’t; at least you hoped not.

“I still can’t believe you’re really here,” you sighed out, tears welling up in your eyes.

Vi immediately notices your mood drop and shakes her head, leaning in to kiss your cheek and placing a few more gentle touches on your neck and jaw.

“I’m here. Right here, sweetheart,” she murmured against your skin as she continued to carefully kiss your skin.

You suck in a deep breath as you cup either side of her face to pull her away from your flustered skin. Vi’s chest was heaving up and down from her own hunger for you becoming overwhelming.

“I want to make you feel good, Vi,” you admit, whispering just below normal speaking volume.

Vi stares and blinks, her breathing slowing down.

“Me?” She questions as if she misheard you.

“Yes, you. Please.”

You couldn’t even feel an ounce of embarrassment from your begging as you meant it more than anything. Vi, with not much more needed convincing, nodded frantically as she allowed you to take the reigns.

You pull away to sit upright and straddle her lap, your skirt lifting up your legs to rest on the highest part of your thigh. Vi’s eyes widened for a second at your position in your lap, her bandaged hands resting on the flat pillows as she stared up at your figure. Her eyes were rounded with admiration and lust.

“Is this okay?” You question, tucking some of your hair behind your ears.

“Yes. Yes, you’re… good.” Vi reassures you as you smittenly smile down at her.

She matches your smile as you lean down to reattach your lips, placing your hands on her collarbone. Vi’s hands grip gently at your upper thighs, frantically pulling you in closer to her. The strap of your shirt was slipping down your shoulder, resting on your triceps.

You allow yourself to be there in the moment with her. You had the tendency to think about the worst outcomes of every situation but right now as Vi’s palms move more up to your hips, you just feel her.

Not afraid, not depressed; just her.

Her touch was electric on your skin. Vi sits upright from her laid-back position, humming as you run one of your hands up the back of her head into her hair. Feeling her body running hot, she removes her hands from your body to shrug off her red jacket from her body.

You pull away to help her remove the jacket, throwing it to the side and hearing it hit the ground. You look down at her now-revealed arms and eyebrows raise up at the sight of her toned upper body.

You were gawking; you knew you were.

“What were you doing in there?” You shamelessly ran your hands down her firm biceps.

Vi lets you feel her up, watching your hungry eyes follow your hands on her body. She doesn’t answer your question but she does place her palms back at their rightful place on your hips.

You snap out of your daze as her hands squeeze your hips. Your cheeks lit aflame before focusing on the task at hand. Did you 100% know what you were doing? No, but you figured if you just do what you do to yourself to her, it was bound to make her feel good.

So you slowly began to grind your hips down onto her own. Vi sucks in a sharp breath at the unfamiliar feeling, letting out a shaky breath.

That only fueled your keep your hips moving against her. Vi’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, tilting her head back to huff out a soft moan. You let out your own noise at the feeling, leaning forward to attach your lips to the length of your neck.

Vi moaned your name at the feeling of you kissing the sensitive spot on her neck. Her grip only becomes tighter on your waist as you begin to suck and lick, creating a dark spot on her pale skin. You pull away after a few seconds to brush your finger over the mark, feeling disgustingly proud of yourself.

“What are you doing to me?” Vi whispered, groaning under her breath.

“I could say the same,” you quip with a cheeky smile, grinding down hard once.

The motion tugs out a moan from the both of you. The thinnest layer of sweat began to form on your neck and crevice of your hip and legs. Vi leans forward, panting into the crook of your neck. She attempts to hide her needy whimpers against your skin but you can’t miss the desperate sounds.

You were growing wetter by the second, aching to get her off.

“Vi—“ You gasp as her palms rest on your hips, helping you grind down onto her clothed crotch.

Your hands rest on the broad on her shoulders, feeling over the tight muscle. She was panting softly as she took in the sound of you asking for her; needing her like this. Her blue eyes admire the way your jaw was left open as you pant and whimper from the friction.

“So beautiful, sweetheart,” she praises, a low moan leaving her own hips.

You almost shake your head at her words but you knew it would be a huge mistake to do so. You allow yourself to take in the words, not wanting to seem like you didn’t believe her. She drew the beautiful inside to the surface with ease.

Your hips stuttered, wondering if you were going to cum like this. It wouldn’t be the first time as you’ve shamefully done the same to your mattress.

“You’re perfect,” you tell her honestly, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

Vi wanted to tell you you were far from correct but you were persistent on the fact.

“You are. You are, Vi,” you cup her face as you weakly grind your crotch on hers.

Vi nods to show you she is listening, one of the few whimpers she’s made throughout the night bubbling in her throat. You place a few kisses over her face before placing the final one on her awaiting lips.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna—“

“Me too. Cum for me, please,” you encourage the pink-haired girl.

You watch as her muscles tighten, a vein popping out of the side of her neck. It beautifully highlighted the mark you’ve made on her.

With your grinds becoming sloppier and weaker, Vi assisted you by practically doing all the work. Your hips and inner thighs were growing more and more tired out by the second. Your will to make sure Vi came was the only thing keeping you going.

Your mouths were hovering over one another, whining and moaning onto each other’s lips. Your core tightened as you felt your orgasm approaching. Vi’s whispers of praise only drew you closer.

“Just like that,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Vi whines right back, kissing right above your chest near your collarbone.

You nod with a whimper, muttering ‘please’ and ‘right there’. The mix of your panting and hot moans drove you both to cumming against one another.

You were shaking at that point, arms now wrapping around her neck for stabilization. Vi, mimicking you, wrapped her arms around your torso, burying her face into your chest as she tried to catch her breath.

Your hair was now frizzy, your whole body aflame from the orgasm that tore through you. Vi’s lips were dragging on your heated skin causing you to shut your eyes as you, too, attempted to calm down.

The two of you sat there, matching each other's breathing patterns as you both came down from your highs. Your eyes before you knew it grew heavy with exhaustion. Vi noticed how slumped you were and cradled your body to maneuver you to lay back down. Your arms were still locked around her neck, refusing to let her go.

“Are you okay?” Vi asks after a few minutes of silence, licking her swollen lips.

You chuckle softly at her question, resting your forehead on her shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m perfect.” You mutter before placing a loving kiss to her bare shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Vi nods at your words, rubbing her hands down your back. She traces the length of your spine, lulling you into the sleep that your body was asking for.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you up before I leave.” Vi encourages when she notices you fighting your tired eyes.

Your heart sank at the word ‘leave’, brows knitting with betrayal. Your exhaustion left your body for a moment at her words.

“Leave?” You delicately whisper.

“No, no, not for good. I’m not doing that to you again,” Vi was quick to reassure your worries. “I just—I have to find Powder. I don’t know how long it will take but I will be back for you.”

You swallow your doubts that Vi will be able to change Jinx back into the girl she once was. You knew you wouldn’t be able to convince Vi into staying, especially with Caitlyn tagging along with her.

“Be careful, okay? I can’t lose you again,” you cup her face, running your thumb over the ink on her cheek. “You’re my backup, remember?”

Vi manages to chuckle at your words, shaking her head.

“I never should’ve asked you that. You were never going to be just a backup, Star,” Vi told you softly. “You were always going to be first for me.”

Your eyes rounded with admiration at her confession.

“We were kids when you asked me that, Vi. I’m glad you did. I’ve never wanted anyone but you,” you tell her with a smitten grin on your lips.

Vi presses a deep kiss onto your awaiting lips, nearing knocking your teeth against one another from her own smile. You lazily kissed her back until you physically couldn’t anymore. Sleep overtook you as you rested your head on her bicep that was acting as your pillow for the night. You felt one last kiss on your temple before you knocked out.

The next morning you awoke to the feeling of the bed shifting next to you. You slowly peek through squinted eyes to see Vi’s blurred figure sitting on the opposite side of the bed, quietly speaking with Caitlyn’s undeniable taller figure.

“I’m just pointing out how you completely disregarded the fact that I was in the room opposite of you. I had a curtain as a door,” Caitlyn quietly scolds the pink haired girl.

You try not to show any reaction but you were embarrassed that you had completely forgotten about Caitlyn resting just 10-15 feet away from you two.

“I’m not sorry for what I did but sorry you heard,” Vi snips, no doubt in your mind with raised brows.

Caitlyn sighed rather loudly before shaking her head, holding her hand up to Vi.

“Let’s just… get going, please. We haven’t got much time.”

Silence from Vi.

“Okay. Just give me two minutes. You can wait outside the door.”

You quickly shut your eyes and pretend to sleep once again, listening for the receding footsteps. Vi spoke with care as she gently tapped your shoulder.

“Star, sweetheart?” She hummed, brushing your flyaways from your face.

“Hmmm?” You open your eyes, stretching one of your arms up.

“Hey. I’m gonna head out, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Vi traces the apple of your cheeks as she talks to you.

“Be careful. I mean it, Vi.”

The blue eyed girl nods at you, giving you one last meaningful kiss onto your lips.

“I will. In fact,” Vi pulls away to reach by the bedside table, grabbing the star ring she gave you. She slid it onto her middle finger, showing you the jewelry. “I’ll be back to give you this. It’ll be my good luck charm.”

There was a beat of silence before you let out a soft laugh at her ridiculousness. You adored her more than anything and anyone.

“I’ll be waiting, Violet.”

TAGLIST: @kylorey25 @evermorewest @breezy-sapphic @auraclus @ichig0nn4 @thesevi0lentdelights @vincinnamontoast @onesockcat @sc0ttstre3ted @seolarsistem @kissyslut @pinkdaisys4u

[solbaby7]

Hi! Could you write one where the reader somehow ingests a magic aphrodisiac while out on a mission. And she is in a ton of discomfort but her mate (any male maybe rhys) isn’t able to get there quickly so he gives cassian or azriel permission to give her some relief until he can arrive ?? :) a little angsty but also sexy

Blurred Lines

pairing: rhysand x reader x az

warnings: swearing, boyfriend lets his best friend fuck his girlfriend, mentions of aphrodisiacs, probs typos

[ part 2 ] [ part 3 ]

—

You’d felt uneasy, stomach churning like curdled milk after inhaling so much of the suspicious purple powder that had been blown in your face. “It burns,” Your body stumbles into Azriel’s, fingers pinching at your nose as you tried to ease the tingle that was beginning to prickle behind your eyes and nostrils.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, piercing eyes scanning the crowd for the figure cloaked in a red so deep it was nearly black but not even his shadows find a trace of them. “We need to get out of here. Do you have it?”

The thrum of the pages hum in the satchel strapped tightly beneath your arm. It had taken weeks to even locate a trace of them, just barely realizing anything was missing from the Book of Breathings until Nesta discovered the tattered remnants of torn pages tucked in the book spine. “I have it.” It comes out slightly slurred, your vision distorting as the powder began to take effect. The uncomfortable heat begins in your sinuses, spreading like venom in your bloodstream until every inch of your body felt like it was pressed up against the crackling flames of a fire. “Whatever that was—it’s really potent.”

Azriel grips you close, shadows cloaking your whole body until he’s winnowed you a safe enough distance away to properly evaluate you. “Gods, your eyes.” You squirm under the warmth of his hands. A simple touch sending every nerve into a frenzy and you’re abnormally aware of the steady throb between your thighs.

Your heartrate spikes, fingers slightly unsteady when snatching for the dagger strapped to your thigh and once you see your reflection it falls from your grasp. Embedded in the natural color of your iris was a smattering of shiny purple dots. “What the hell was that stuff?”

“I don’t know.” Azriel’s worry only grows, eyes glazing over as he no doubt was relaying everything that had happened to Rhys—to your mate. The very thought of him has arousal pooling between your thighs but the pleasant tingle of pleasure that usually followed is nowhere to be found. Every muscle seized with stress, fingers digging into your hair to alleviate the pulsing pressure all over. “Just hang on,” He pleads, holding you close despite your discomfort but there’s no other choice but to winnow as close as the wards around the safe house would allow. “Rhys is on his way.”

The words barely register, sweat beading at your hairline and even with the temperatures slightly lower than usual, the heat refused to subside. It radiates through your clothes, micro particles of sparkling purple transferring from your leathers to Az’s the longer he had to support your weight.

You scramble away from him the moment the door opens, fingers frantically pulling at the buttons keeping the tactical gear in place until it’s left in a heap on the floor. Gods, the floor. So cool against bare skin and the momentary relief is too good to even notice the fact that you were so exposed, the thin straps of the flimsy undershirt slipping down your shoulder; the hem hiking up the length of your stomach.

Vaguely aware of the sounds around you, the floor barely rumbles as Azriel shifted through the space. It was a little cramped but big enough for a kitchen and a bedroom with a small bathroom tucked within.

Too soon does the cool fade away, pained whines follow and every brush of your fingers against bare skin is worse than most other tortures you’d endured. It’s accidental, the scrape of your nail against your nipple through thin material and the moan that rips free is more like a choked cry. Every move after that feels like another is in control of your body, forcing your limbs to move, willing your fingers to trail beneath the waistband of your pants and past the soft cotton of your underwear.

“I ran you a bath—“ The rest is abruptly cut off, every single muscle in Azriel’s body going stiff at the sight of you sprawled out on the kitchen floor with so much skin on display. Golden eyes catch on the heaving fullness of your breasts spilling from the confines of your top, the frenzied hand tucked in your leathers and Azriel physically stumbles back when the intensity of your scent fully hits him. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Words slur together, frustrated tears falling down the curve of your cheeks and you’re too caught up in the temporary solace to be embarrassed about the crude behavior; the obscene squelching between your thighs. “I’m so sorry, I just can’t help it—hurts so bad.”

Azriel doesn’t reply, stunned in place and distantly he recognizes a familiar pressure in his brain. A feline voice laced with worry snapping him from his stupor. “Please tell me you’re close.”

“I need more time, Az.”

“She doesn’t have it,” The sight is pushed at Rhysand at warp speed, the sounds of his mate filling the conclaves of his mind.

There’s a pause, one that lasts a beat too long and Azriel begins to catch on to the plan his High Lord was brewing. “Then, help her.”

“Rhysand.”

“I trust you,” Rhys says a little softer, even if the words are laced with that territorial gruff. “Help her. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He can’t move, even if his shadows slink forward at the permission given. They’re cautious before touching you, just barely ghosting over the curve of your shoulder and the whimper that it pulls makes Azriel’s stomach clench. You lean into the cool touch that comes with the wisps of darkness, back arching at the feeling. “Where’s Rhys?”

“He’ll be here, he just needs a little more time.”

More tears fall, even if you do nod in understanding but your thoughts muddy together, unable to differentiate one sentence from the next as you forgo pants altogether. “I can’t wait anymore, Az. Please.” You’re not sure what you’re asking for exactly but you’re positively certain that your fingers aren’t enough. “Please touch me.”

He says your name so softly, crooning soothing words and tucking your hair away from your forehead. “Are you sure?”

You don’t answer with words, just eyes half-lidded and grip surprisingly gentle when grabbing for his wrist, guiding his hand to the sodden mess between your thighs. Azriel can’t fight his reaction to the slick arousal coating his fingers through your lacy underthings, head dipping back and eyes daring to close—savoring the feel of you. “I need you to make me feel better,” You don’t even sound like yourself, tone whiny and desperate as you hike your shirt over your head. “Please, can you do that for me? Please, please, please.”

Your hips buck up into the pressure of his fingers against you, squirming uncontrollably as he slowly pulls the fabric to the side and the first swipe of skin on skin is almost enough to bring you over the edge. “Alright,” Your name on his lips sends your nerves into a frenzy, hips wiggling just enough for one finger to sink into your cunt and the relief is instant. “I’ll make it better, just breathe for me, okay?”

It’s a simple request and yet still you have difficulty obeying as you chase the icy chill that quenches the burning inferno. Another finger follows the first and Azriel can’t tear his eyes away from the way your spine curves with each delicious drag of them against your walls. “Yes,” It comes out in a near hiss, teeth biting at the fat of your bottom lip as you grope at your chest. “Feels so fucking good.”

Maybe Azriel indulged just a little, taking extra time exploring the spots at had your eyes going lazy and when moans shift into breathy whines—Azriel submits completely. The taste of you on his tongue was unlike anything than he could’ve imagined, warm and sweet against his tongue like cookies dipped in warm milk. A string of swears tumble from your lips so fast he briefly wonders if it’s another language. He hums all the same, low vibrations sending goosebumps along your flesh and shadows take the place of your hands. Kneading at supple breasts and tugging on pert nipples until the onslaught of pleasure has you tensing beneath him. “That’s it,” He mutters against your sex, acutely aware of the throbbing erection straining against the binds of his leathers. “Feel better?”

Your body answers for you, tugging him close enough to feel the hardness of his length against your pussy. “Need more, Az.” One long drag against the stiff material and he’s groaning into your neck, holding up his weight on two strong arms and you can’t help but think about them holding you up against a wall, fucking up into you until your lungs gave out.

Azriel stares down at you, eyes dark and lips parted as if he could see exactly what filthy things were flashing behind your eyelids. “Relax, pretty girl.” Shadows tug at the binds holding his pants in place, dragging them down, down, down. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, arousal pooling between your legs with a slutty squelch. “I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

[thedevilrisen]

Cradle Me

Father!Quinn x Son & Wife!Reader. Word Count: 1,1k Authorial Note: My next voted WIP! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did while writing it! Don’t know if it’s my best piece then. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of birth.

Elliot Samuel Hughes came screaming into the world at 4:12 p.m., Quinn only knew his son for a matter of awed, breathless moments before the world sharpened—and chaos erupted.

Nurses swarmed you, dabbing and cleaning with sodden warm towels. A warm, slimy bundle of swaddle-blanket and baby reached your chest as the obstetrician stepped back from your glistening body. Quinn's reddened hand slipped from your grip, instinctively cradling the baby to your chest. His other hand, shaking slightly, gripped the bed's plastic rail. Leaning forward, he rested his right arm limply across your shoulder, his forehead gently touching yours as the two of you gazed down at your son.

"How’re you doing, Dad?" the obstetrician asked from the sink as he scrubbed his hands clean.

Quinn blinked, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "I feel sick... but in a good way." He laughed softly, joy plastered permanently on his face. "We created a human... that's fucking scary but awesome at the same time."

Even in your post-birth haze, a smile graced your lips. It was an awesome thing indeed. This was your person now, a culmination of Quinn and your love. Despite this baby being considered a gift, he clearly was sent to test you and Quinn’s love for each other. No parenting class could have prepared you for the unfolding chaos that was leaving the hospital and heading home. The first day at the hospital was incredible, the nurses gently guided you and Quinn in the ways of parenting. But once you left and arrived home, the learning curve turned into an aggressive crash course.

Emotions ran high for every family member. Every nap missed, messy feed, spit-up, or nappy mess that needed cleaning up frayed the string further. Quinn and you had been remarkably naïve to think that this journey would be easy, even though you’d been dreaming collectively of this moment for years.

Quinn, along with self-proclaimed uncles Elias, Brock, and JT, spent hours working on the perfect nursery for baby boy Hughes. From wall decorations to the crib and changing table—which you insisted had to be powder blue with clouds and a grassy field with cows in it—the boys poured their hearts into it. Once they had finished assembling the room and you'd let it air out due to your hatred of the smell of fresh paint, you added the final details: books, blankets, nappies, and wipes, along with baby clothes hanging neatly on tiny coat hangers.

The first night home from the hospital was powered purely by adrenaline. You and Quinn took shifts with baby boy—changing, feeding, and sometimes just comforting him to sleep. By the second and third nights, the exhaustion set in. Leaving the warmth of the bed became a Herculean effort, especially for you. The physical toll of birth weighed heavily on your body, and sustaining new life felt overwhelming.

Quinn tried his hardest to take the load off, seeing how hard you were working to make the transition smooth, though it felt futile. His patience held up remarkably well for the first four days, but by the fourth night, tension crept in. Snappish words replaced your usual playful banter, and the distance between you felt like a growing chasm. Quinn’s touch, once so comforting, now felt foreign. Exhaustion tangled both your nerves, and intimacy between the two of you became a distant memory.

That night, an abrupt “goodnight” was shared, accompanied by a peck on the cheek. You both lay there in the dark, separated by a wall of fatigue, each praying for sleep that never came, as baby boy woke again at distasteful hours of the night.

Night five was the killer. Some ungodly hour like 1:03 a.m. glared back at you from the microwave as you ambled around the kitchen for the second time that night. You’d fed him twice now, but much of the milk had come back up in spit-up. Quinn had changed baby once and had checked on him again 45 minutes earlier.

There was one distinct problem: the baby only slept when he was held. You could do as many laps around the kitchen as you wanted, Quinn could rock him for hours, but as soon as baby landed on the bassinet’s mattress, it was like laying him on lava.

"Still no luck, darlin’?" Quinn’s voice came quietly from the doorway, his tired form silhouetted by the dim light of the stairs. He met you halfway, his brow furrowed with concern.

You let out a soft, frustrated sigh. "Every time I put him down, he cries," you whispered, blinking back tears. "I’m so tired, Quinn."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "C’mon, let’s go back to bed," he murmured, leading you gently up the stairs. Exhaustion had blurred the edges of your world, and you forced a tired smile as he kissed your hand again.

"He’s just going to cry when I put him down, Quinn," you stated tiredly as he threw back the covers for you. The softness of the bed felt like heaven against your aching body, and you settled in without a second thought.

Quinn, now shirtless, pulled baby from your arms and nestled him gently on his chest, holding him snugly as he propped himself up with pillows. He tucked you in under his arm, pulling the blankets over both of you.

"Sleep now, darlin’," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. Baby wriggled slightly in his swaddle but quickly relaxed against Quinn's warmth. "If this is how we have to do it from now on, fine."

Quinn sighed, his grip tightening around both of you. "At least we have good chiros at the rink."

[crypticminx]

I need rough sex Felix (maybe with a breeding link?!) but then he’s sweet and caring after :)

Ughhh you got it angel!! Ask and u shall receive <3 I’m not sure if I got the sweet and caring part nailed but :0

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Thunderous sounds of music blared throughout the festively decorated home, causing chaos between the shared drinks amongst all the happy partygoers. One could only hope they don’t wake up with painful headaches and sore ears, but that seemed like a tomorrow problem.

Catton house parties taken place at the luxurious castle were no disappointment and lived up to be the most thrilling event of year.

However, there was a certain host who was missing in action.

Bathroom door locked and shut to its full extent, Felix blocked out any sort of comotion happening outside as his full attention was laid on you. There were a few aggressive knocks followed by shouting for whoever was in there to hurry up, but the two of you didn’t care. If someone wanted to hurl the alcohol that didn’t sit well with their foolish decisions, they would have to resort to another option.

You looked far too delicious for him to carry you all the way up the long, dwelling staircase that lead to his bedroom—resulting in some quick action and a subtle drag into a nearby bathroom. It wasn’t the picture perfect scene for a quickie, empty beer bottles messily scattred on the countertop and white traces of powder on the sink, but you both worked with what you were given.

“Jesus,” he quietly moaned, loud enough for you to hear with all the chaotic noise. Forcefully pulling your head back to where his lips were waiting for another passionate kiss. His tongue collided with yours as the two of you became inseparable of unlocking your driven stamina. He could still smell the faint scent of your floral perfume, and with no shame, he moved his salivating lips onto your neck. Marking it with as many love bites possible, hoping they would show in full force tomorrow as a result of what the two of you got up to.

“Dress,” his voice was muffled from the contact that was his mouth with your neck, “off, now.”

He demanded with such assertiveness, you could feel your tiny thong growing wet with delight.

“Yes sir,” you bit your lip, knowing that your once neatly applied lipstick was all smeared because of his doing.

His hands fumbled as they undid the sheer dress he picked out for you, pulling it with as much care possible, trying not to ruin or strain it. If it was his way, he would rip it to shreds till you’d be naked.

“And these,” he trailed slowly to your thong, “though they’re so sexy, they’ve got to go, darling.”

He was so impatient—frantic even, not fully undressing himself. Only undoing his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers in unison, his long hard cock fully on display. Aching to go inside of you with full force.

He lifted your naked body onto the sink, letting you sit with your legs spread out. He eagerly thrusted into you, hearing you let out your first of many whimpering moans, the ones that made him never want to stop.

“Felix,” you tried not to melt as he inched his way further, toes curling as your legs wrapped around his legs that stood on the ground. You pulled him closer, digging your nails slightly into his back as your signal for wanting him to not hold back.

Lustful groans erupted from his hoarse voice, his cock twitching to no end once he felt your warm inner walls start to become more wet. He forced you deep into the crook of his neck, as you felt the heat from the exposed parts of his body latch onto yours, a warm sensation. You rode his dick to the best of your ability while sitting on the cold sink, breasts bouncing up and down in perfect harmony.

However, he was the one in charge.

In between pants, he huffed, “look s’fuckin beautiful tonight, baby.” Loving every moment that he embraced your pussy practically sucking on his gliding cock.

You inched yourself away from hiding in his chest, wanting to see his sweaty face as he made fiery love to you.

“But you’d look so much better if I filled you up..”

You clenched harder, finding it hard to speak when he knew what he was doing to you. You were on the brink of an orgasm, feeling shockwaves of pleasurable vibrations as his erection grew mad with every pounce.

“Gonna cum in me,” you dangerously teased to the best of your abilities.

And with using your pretty hypnotic voice, something in him snapped—and for a better word, released his senses to heatedly turn more rough. Dying to not let a single drop go to waste inside of you.

Roughly grabbing your hair with his fingers as you felt your head pour into a different direction. He yanked you to no avail, all with a devilish smile.

“M’gonna fill you up so good, princess,” he breathed. “So good that next time everyone here sees you, you’ll be pregnant with my baby.”

“Please,” you blurted out, begging for him to cum in you, while internally you failed to let yourself hold back. Coating his cock, which was still deeply in the depths of you, with your orgasm.

It was sinful the way he seductively declared what he wanted to do to you, but you pleasured every heated moment of it.

Heavily breathing while he waited, Felix couldn’t stand another second more, he jerked himself into you one last time, filling you up with all his delectable cum in a matter of seconds.

You both savoured the feeling of getting each other off before the haze of needy desire wore off. Love, however, was still in the air. He swung a towel off the hanger, cleaning you up first, making sure you weren’t stained with something somebody else need to see.

He was slow and patient while stroking your thighs with the fabric. when you finally made your way out of your position from sitting, he lovingly grabbed you, kissing the top of your head as he took you in.

Noticing that your dress and other belongings were still placed on the floor, Felix bent down, breaking free from your embrace to pick them up.

“Wouldn’t want anyone to see you with out this, hmmm,” he beamed, eyes twinkling as he helped you in dressing yourself.

Though you always had the most mind blowing sex, you felt tonight it was somehow cut short.

“Maybe I can take it off later again?” You purred, seeing his face grow wide with plenty of ideas.

He caressed your face, fingers gliding on your red, sweaty cheek that still made you look as beautiful as ever.

“Oh,” he paused for a mere second, “I’m not gonna stop till you’re actually pregnant.”

[emma-needs-attention]

I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

[ma1dita]

🐥hey babe, thoughts on sirius x reader during hogwarts years? sirius is known for being a huge playboy and reader's a gryffindor and good friends with all the gryffindor girls n marauders. think (best) friends to lovers? he's going out with all these girls all the time searching for a connection and physical affection, but doesn't realize that he has feelings for her until he sees her with another guy (asked to hogsmeade, hanging out at a party, slug club, etc). love ya <33

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

sirius black x reader

a/n: for my lovely nini!! i hope you like it LOL sirius was always hard for me to write

wc: 1.5k

—

Sirius Black has everything he’s ever wanted in life.

It’s a bold statement to claim at 17, but after leaving his hellhole of a house, getting good ol’ Uncle Alphard’s inheritance of gold with enough to swim in at Gringotts if he so wishes, and having the best of mates he also has the privilege of calling his family— some may ask what’s next for him, and that’s what he’s trying to figure out too.

Everything will be easy from now on, he thinks— smoothing down his hair and spritzing some cologne while he gets ready to find another girl to get under so that his weekend will have some merit.

“Looking good, Pads,” James grins from his bed as he tosses a quaffle back and forth between him and Peter. The impish boy almost gets nailed in the face, huffing, “Who’s it this time? The girl from Ravenclaw? What’s her name again—Venetia? Violet?”

“Something like that…”

Sirius straightens out his shirt collar and flicks off a speck of imaginary lint from his shoulder—there’s physically nothing wrong with him, but something is still missing.

The door opens with a bang and you brush past him like a hurricane, the boys cheering at your arrival.

“Pretty girl, give us a twirl!” James hollers, and Remus gets up from his bed to spin you around as you giggle with your dress twirling in the wind.

“M’gonna be late because of you lot!” you grin, grabbing James’ bottle of Sleakeasy’s off his dresser and sidling up next to your best friend who’s silent as he stares at you through the mirror with amusement in his eyes.

“What?” you mumble, cheeks flushing as you lather the potion between your fingers to smooth it into your hair, “Can’t let you be the only pretty one around here, Pads.” He’s pulling on the fabric of your dress teasingly, inspecting you from head to toe, “Mhm, and who exactly are you going on a date with, lovie?”

“None of your business! Don’t want any of you boys meddling,” you say exasperatedly, elbowing him when he laughs, and Peter yells out in protest from the floor behind you. You squeeze Sirius’ shoulder, looking at the both of you in the mirror and noticing that his silvery eyes are still glued to you, cool as steel.

“Do I look bad? Borrowed it from Mary, but it doesn’t really fit me as well as it fits her, no?”

He notices the low cut of your dress and the way it frames your body just as well as he can draw it from memory—from the curve of your collarbones to the plush of your hip it certainly doesn’t leave much to his imagination, he’s just never seen you like this before. Sirius is blatantly ogling you now, and Remus throws a pillow at his head sending every perfectly combed piece of hair in different directions. He doesn’t even move to fix it, his breath growing quicker the more he takes you in.

“Lucky bloke. You’d look pretty even if you wore a sackcloth though,” he mumbles, eyes unseeing when you reach up to smooth his strands with a gentle smile. Sirius moves closer so you can reach, lips grazing against the powder blush you applied on your cheek— though if he got any closer he might’ve felt the heat reverberating from your skin. His finger plays with the tie at your bosom, almost in hesitation, or was it contemplation?

When does Sirius ever hesitate to do anything?

“This dress is just….hmmm…”

“What? Making me nervous… Is it too much?” You turn away to ask the other boys, who watch the two of you dance around each other like an old Muggle film Remus’ mum would send them to watch (Hope Lupin wants to teach these boys a thing or two about how to woo women in a respectful, romantic manner, mind you).

“A bit,” Sirius swallows, pulling at his shirt collar like it’s suddenly hard to breathe. Behind you, Peter grips at his hair almost comically while Remus throws his face into a book and sighs. James is watching through his fingers, eyes darting between the two of you two in anticipation. Groaning, you jab at his torso, taking out the rest of the air in his lungs (though he tries not to choke when he pulls you in and feels the smooth skin of your thighs as your dress rides up in the struggle).

“Shut up, you tosser! And I better not see any of you in Hogsmeade later trying to ruin my date—I actually have high hopes for this one…” you giggle, tossing your head against your best friends’ shoulder as you look at the varying faces of shock that surround you.

“Who said we were going to meddle?”

“Us?”

“We’re good boys, doll, we’d never!”

Sirius’ voice rings clearer over the rest of the Marauders as he whispers in your ear, “My girl’s looking forward to a date? Who would’ve thought….”

You spin in his arms and correct him, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other playing with a button on his shirt, “Your best girl…I’m allowed to have fun too, Pads!”

“That you are.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, inhaling the perfume you spritz on for special occasions and feeling like he’s lost you already even before you walk out the door. You send him off on dates all the time with an encouraging smile on your face. So why is it that after you leave the boys watch him flop into his bed and stare at the ceiling?

Sirius could’ve been there for hours for all he knows— ignoring the boys when they tell him they’re going to badger your date at Hosgmeade, unmoving when his date (who’s name turned out to be Vina) banged on his door for skipping out on her, he laid there, arms crossed and brooding. It’s like nothing made sense anymore.

You come tiptoeing into his room with your heels in hand a little before dinner, pulling back the curtains of his poster bed whispering, “Pads? You okay? What happened to your date?”

Sirius rolls over, looking at your wide eyes glinting in the candlelight, “What happened to yours?” he counters.

“It was okay. The boys sent a Bat-Bogey Hex to my date and snot landed in my butterbeer. He thought it was weird when I laughed.”

“M’sorry, lovie,” he sighs, grasping your hand over his duvet and playing with the rings on your fingers.

“S’okay! Don’t wanna be with someone without a sense of humor. Grown man that can’t take a prank. How awful is that?” you grin, before slapping his thigh, “Move over, I’m coming in.” There should be nothing special about the way you easily find your place against his body, molding against his form in both of your wrinkled dress clothes but Sirius can’t help nuzzling against the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your scalp like it’s second nature.

“Why didn’t you go on your date? Heard Vina almost set the common room on fire.”

He doesn’t have an answer to that, nor the way he questions why his heart is beating faster when you draw stars along his spine.

“D’you at least have a good time today? Looking so pretty and all,” he whispers, pulling your chin up so you can look at each other eye to eye.

“Rem said you weren’t feeling well, so I had one foot out the door the entire time. Besides he was boring. Much rather spend time with you here,” you say like it’s nothing of the sort. Shiny lips press a pink kiss onto his nose. Your lipgloss smells like strawberries, leaving a mark on his aristocratic features.

“Doing nothing?”

“Mhm. Already having more fun, aren’t you?” you breathe out a laugh into his neck, unknowing of the way he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. He comes to the realization then that there’s no other place he’d rather be without you by his side. Nothing’s missing, or wrong with him—he has all he needs as long as you’re pressed against him like this, fingers in your hair and legs tangled under the bedspread.

“I didn’t want to go on my date because I wanted to be with you today,” he whispers into the air. You don’t freeze or jolt back like he expects you to, instead pursing your lips against his jaw.

“Yeah?”

“Is that okay?” he mutters, closing his eyes with the feeling that he’s said something awful, shoulders tensing like how they would when his mother would turn the corner.

“Why wouldn’t it be okay? Siri…” you sigh, grabbing his face to look at you and when he opens his eyes, you suddenly know.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Sirius says shakily, putting his hands over yours in case you’re an apparition or want to leave. There’s a space in his heart that’s in the shape of you, and you smile at him like he wasn’t in on the joke, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“S’okay. You have me.”

And he nods, knowing that’s all he needs.

[ultram0th]

@rainbowhypno

Request: Aaron bigoted over religious straight homophobic man harasses Brad for being gay. Which ends up being a big mistake. Brad turns Aaron into a proud gay musky slutty man and makes him his boyfriend. Aaron tries to fight the changes but loses the fight. Aaron remembers his old life, but he is reprogrammed to remembers his old life but he is reprogrammed to love the man he is now. A out and proud slutty gay man

★······★

Brad was heading to his dorm room after a rough day of seemingly endless lectures. All the slender guy wanted was to lie down and numb his aching head with some random cat videos.

Before he could reach his dorm, he was hit with the sickly stench of beer as a red solo cup was tossed at him. Drenched in beer, Brad huffed as he looked up and saw none other than Aaron.

The big, beefy jock was a pain in Brad's ass. For whatever reason, the jerk had made it his mission to make Brad's life as hard as possible. He was always there to pester him or even "playfully" shove him too hard, always muttering some sort of slur under his breath.

Aaron mock-frowned at the wet Brad. "Sorry 'bout that, Ma'am," he almost sneered. "I thought you looked thirsty, but I didn't have some fruity cocktail. Hope that works."

Normally, Brad would've just tried his best to shrug off Aaron's homophobic shenanigans. However, this time, he was prepared.

The skinny man reached into his pocket and grabbed a fistful of the pink, shimmery powder that he'd purchased from a mysterious woman the other night. Then, like a scene out of a cartoon, Brad tossed the powder into Aaron's face, smiling widely as the larger man winced as his face was covered in pink.

"What the hell was that?" the muscled jock sputtered as he wiped at his face.

"You'll find out soon enough," Brad lowly chuckled as he prepared himself to watch was was going to happen.

"What does that mean-- UUUhhhh!" Aaron's voice cut off as all of his muscles seemed to tense up. It looked as if the big jock was flexing, but soon his eyes widened when he felt the cool air on his torso. Looking downward, Aaron was surprised to see that his shirt was gone, exposing his plump pecs and washboard stomach. "Wha--?"

His voice trailed off when he witnessed his pecs shudder before it looked as if they were beginning to inflate. The jock's jaw dropped when he saw his pecs steadily grow larger and rounder. It wasn't an exaggerated growth, especially when the rest of his body followed suit. His muscles grew in size, taking his body from jock to bodybuilder in mere seconds. He paled when he saw his abs gradually grow fainter until they disappeared, his stomach rounding out to form a firm musclegut. His pants felt painfully tight as his butt swelled up, his cheeks going from perky to full on beach ball size. They grew so large that they began to push his jeans down, exposing the top of his hairy crack to the whole dormitory. As a final touch, Aaron's skin began to itch as hair started to sprout over his body, leaving him with copious amounts of body hair, with most of it concentrated on his pits and chest.

When he was done growing, Aaron had to have gained at least fifty pounds of muscle and had sprouted lots of hair. His large hands explored his larger, hairier body, blushing when he caught of a whiff of the pungent musk that seemed to radiate off of him in waves, almost as if he'd just finished an intense workout.

"Whoa," Aaron groaned in a much deeper voice, "what happened to me, Bro?" He flinched at the slowish quality to his voice and the way he'd said Bro unconsciously. "My head feels so slow."

Brad just smiled at his work, thinking that this new Aaron would be a much better guy than the old one. "You're the new you," he grinned.

"The new me...?" Aaron wondered aloud, freezing when his eyes landed on the smaller guy before him. His heart began to race in his beefier chest, and despite himself, he felt his cock start to stiffen. Worse was that he felt an odd emptiness forming deep within his ass, and he unconsciously flexed his huge bubblebutt with want.

No matter what his brain told him, Aaron was horrified to find that he viewed Brad as... cute!?

"Oh no," Aaron groaned, paling at this new realization, especially as new memories started to filter into his brain. He was still a college jock attending university on a football scholarship, but now he was also the muscled up and dim-witted boyfriend of Brad. He could see crystal clear mental images of himself wearing the skimpiest clothing and flexing for the small man on command, loving it whenever his huge ass was stuffed full with Brad's cock. And not only his, but their supposed relationship was flexible enough to where Brad was cool with Aaron getting fucked and sucking off every other guy on the football team. Apparently not a night went by when Aaron wasn't bouncing on cock after cock and showing off his large, hairy muscles to every guy on campus... but apparently he had a huge soft spot for Brad.

Brad basked in the warmth that this new Aaron brought him. He stepped forward and ran an admiring hand over Aaron's hairy pecs, loving the way the formerly straight jerk shuddered at the contact.

"Hey, Babe," he teased, "why don't we go to our dorm and I'll fuck that huge butt of yours?"

Aaron wanted to decline, to beg to be changed back, but instead he felt himself pick up the smaller man with one arm and flex his other one. "Hell yeah, Bro," he smiled dimly, "you're gonna fuck me so damn hard all night!"

[fantasticstoryteller]

Maddie hummed a familiar lullaby as her scalpel moved with precision. She made the incision, opening the torso in front of her. Jack waited with the bone shears until the rib cage was visible. Then he carefully snapped each rib, the body on the table jolting with each movement despite the straps holding it down.

Images danced in her head as Jack pried the rib cage apart while she worked. In her mind's eye she could see Danny. She remembered when he was about three and obsessed with giving her flowers. His favorite flowers to give her had bees napping in them. It was so cute.

There. Anomaly one. She carefully removed it from the body in front of her and Jack solemnly held out a biohazard bin for her to put it in. She didn't know how many more to go, so she got back to work.

She remembered when Danny was first starting school. He'd been so excited to meet all the other children. He'd told wild stories about he and his friends would go on all these crazy adventures, and hunt ghosts just like his parents. She still remembered the gleam in his eyes as he proudly said he was gonna grow up to be just like them.

There. Two more Anomalies. How many were there? How many did she have to--no. Speculation was useless. She continued to hum the lullaby.

Danny had been so excited when she and Jack had finally scraped enough money together to send him to a NASA sponsored space camp. He'd come back with the stars in his eyes and a new goal: to become an astronaut. While she and Jack had been slightly saddened to see that he no longer wanted to be just like them, they'd been supportive.

There. Another--dear God, this one had broken. "Jack," she whispered, voice tight.

"Got it," he said, his voice unusually grim.

She barely bit back a hysterical laugh. Of course he was grim. Of course he was worried. Who wouldn't be in these circumstances? She double checked the restraints of the motionless body on the table.

Jack returned with a small vacuum, and she used it to get all of the Anomaly. She knew that she couldn't leave any trace of it.

Danny hadn't had as much success--on paper--in high school as he'd had previously. But he had his two best friends, and she knew they got up to mischief together. Typical teen shenanigans, as her grandmother would say. Always running, always on the move. Always--always the best.

"What are you guys doing?"

Maddie glanced behind her at the entrance to the lab and saw Jazz staring at them in horror. Hands brought to her mouth. Jack moved to stop her as she rushed towards them.

Maddie couldn't blame her daughter, but bent back to her work as Jack tried to explain what had happened. She couldn't leave any of the Anomalies in the body in front of her. She also knew that Jazz would stop her in a moment. Jazz would do anything to protect her brother, and Maddie took pride in that. She'd raised her children well.

There. Last Anomaly. She dropped it to the floor, heedless of the way the glass container broke. "Jack!" she yelled as she slammed the rib cage back together and began to staple the incision.

"Got it!" he broke away from Jazz, grabbed the emergency box, and slammed the syringe into Danny's thigh as Maddie released the restraints.

"Quickly!" Maddie ordered as her daughter came closer. Jazz, sweet Jazz, she was not ready for this.

None of them were.

She grabbed Danny's still (too still, too lifeless, had they made it in time?) body and heaved it towards Jazz. "Get him to Frostbite!" Jazz stared at her mother in disbelief. "Now!" Jazz's mouth set in a grim line and she hauled the body towards the portal. Not a moment's hesitation before she went through it.

Good. Maddie turned to see Jack on the floor, holding one of the broken bullets, fine red powder sifting around his hand. "They're getting smarter," he said, voice soft.

Maddie nodded. Then the enormity of what she'd had to do hit her and she collapsed onto her husband. She sobbed as her mind, her treacherous, torturous mind, replayed her own hands cutting, cutting, cutting into her son. She'd had to do it. The Blood Blossom bullets would have killed him if she hadn't, and even then--

No. Jazz would make it. Danny would survive.

They couldn't do anything else.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful Halloween!

Will it be all right if I request the WHB King's reactions to MC wearing One of those sexy Halloween costumes (any of your choice!)

You're writing is extremely well done And I really enjoy reading your work!

Have a nice day or night :3

Hello! And thank you! And yes, and thank you! I'm writing this answer early, because the time it's posted, I'm probably sitting with family and friends. Hope I can brighten up your three minutes with my silly ideas 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

You came to Satan in a mummy costume, covering strategic places with bandages. He is delighted. For this joy he will kick anyone who looks at you, and he will want to take you here, now, in this corner, on this wall. The bandages you wore will grow to the status of relics. Satan will tie them around his wrists for difficult fights, and small pieces will be used to tie the most seriously wounded warriors, as a reward and support in healing.

Mammon won't be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you dressed as an Egyptian queen. Dripping with gold and silk, half-naked, combining inaccessibility with luxury... This will be Tartaros' favorite Halloween, because Mammon will take you on his knees and open up the throne room, accepting audiences for ordinary devils. Let all the devils see how beautiful and powerful their queen and his Master is, before he takes you to his chambers to ruin your expensive makeup.

Leviathan will be disgusted when he sees your exposed shoulders, tight corset and short skirt with a deep cut if you dress up as a pirate. What kind of idea is that? And that knife on your thigh. You want to fight with anything? With this? Foolish human. As a pirate, you should be ready to fight a kraken... and he can show you how dangerous and big the tentacles are.

You know those edible bracelets made of powdered candy? This is what the bikini Beelzebub will send you is made of. Only there will be less candy than on this bracelet. So that you can somehow go out on the town, you'll throw on his coat and tie it tightly around your waist. Improvisation is all you have left. You grab your markers, open the phone gallery and in the mirror, sloppily, scribble words on your body; Beel's tattoos. You'll steal Bael's glasses, and voila! Avisos, don't count on seeing your king, because when he sees you, he'll get obsessed. Do you want to be his so much that you're dressed up as him? Do you miss him so much? Come here. All you'll see for the next few hours is him and his clones; he'll point out every mistake in your tattoos and make you learn them by heart on his own body.

For Lucifer, you really tried your best with the makeup. You came in torn clothes, with fake wounds painted all over your body. The poor devil almost had a heart attack when he saw you. He rushed to check which of them were real, and when it turned out that none, you only heard a quiet whisper and felt a warm breath on your cheek. "Not very convincing." he muttered disapprovingly, as if he almost didn't panic at your sight. "I'll help you make them better." He licked his lips. Looking at his sharp fangs... your makeup can't compare to what they will leave.

For Belphegor the sexiest thing you can do is dress up as a mattress, but he guesses that wasn't the purpose of this event. You put on a sexy outfit, drew some card designs, and slid some cards and dices under your clothes and into ruffles. You decided to present the devil with a fait accompli. Took his favorite dice and threw it under your bra. "Oops." You spread your hands as if you hadn't done it on purpose. "I think you lost something?" Although initially unfazed, you quickly motivated him to search... even though your ornaments would soon be the last thing he was interested in.

Asmodeus was hard (as always) to figure out… so you decided to ignore him completely and just have fun. Let's test our king. Will he really think you're sexy in *everything*? Even if you dress up as an inflatable T-Rex? You were already excited when you found out that there was no such thing in hell. Sucks. Annoyed, you decided to tease your king. With Eligos and Paimon you spent a good few days, preparing a tight black dress, a curly wig, and specific makeup. To them, you looked simply sexy; but when you stood before Asmodeus, made up like Lust, his eyes widened. After all, he’s a man of culture who spends most of his time on Earth. “Sassy.” He smiled menacingly as he ran his finger over the tattoo between your collarbones. “Do you want to mock me or please me? Oh, well… Guess I have to ignite you.” Others better appreciate your creation before he sees you, because there will be absolutely nothing left of it.

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 8.6k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt, flirting, Stripper!Billy and Stripper!Steve making an appearance

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You finally buy something you feel pretty in, and Eddie invites you to his house to finally meet his friends... Who are also his Co-Workers.

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing support in this story! Next chapter is when things get spicier! So follow me and click the notifications for my postings since I will close the taglist for now!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

PART 3

“No.” Robin deadpans at you as you hold a white t-shirt up to her. You frowned as you turned it to look at it yourself.

“What’s wrong with it? The collar is lower!” You try to defend but in all honesty you knew you were just going for the safe options. It’s been an hour since you arrived at the mall and even if you wanted to come here alone Robin insisted on helping after you told her what Eddie told you.

She was surprised, incredibly surprised, because she never thought it had to do with your self-esteem, and that drove you to have no experience in a lot of things. You didn’t know how to do your own make-up, how to dress yourself, how to talk without feeling the need to overdo it, or even how to flirt. This was all based on confidence you never had, confidence you never built in yourself, confidence you never really felt like having because you thought the opportunities didn’t happen for you.

But now, Robin was doing her best to not murder you. You have been showing her bland t-shirts, soft cardigans, some jeans, and nothing that would be different from what you usually wear. She wanted you to do the picking by yourself, so that you could find your own style, but her patience was growing thinner and thinner each second that ticked. 

“What’s wrong with it?! It’s the same shit you always wear!” Robin exclaimed at you and you winced at her tone, putting the white shirt back on the rack. In all honesty, you didn't feel confident to get hold of the things that caught your attention. You had liked a black one piece that looked like a corset with spaghetti straps. You also saw a nice tight purple dress with puffy sleeves that fell from your shoulders. 

“No need to be so dramatic about it Robin…” Your friend simply rolled her eyes and looked over the rack of clothes. She heard your phone’s ringtone and immediately saw how you were getting it out of your coat. Her eyes almost widened when you didn’t even flinch, seeing the caller ID, and even knowing it was a video call.

Your stomach was in knots when answering but you got better with video calling with Eddie after the first two times he called. The first time, you didn’t put on your camera, but he didn’t mind. He showed you his apartment and then his makeup collection, explaining to you some basic stuff to get started with it. You took down notes of the names of each thing, concealer, foundation, contour, liners, mascara, blush, lipstick, lip gloss, setting spray, and powder. That was the basic thing. 

The second call you only showed your eyes and forehead. He laughed at you of course, which only made you want to hang up on the call but he stopped you and told you that it was an improvement. In that call though, you almost felt the earth swallowing as Steve and Billy made an appearance, both shirtless, waving at you. You immediately muted yourself and took off the camera as your whole body grew a cold sweat.

That meant that Eddie had talked about you to them.

Your hand was shaking as it positioned itself on top of the answering button, ready to slide it, but Robin snatched your phone away, your eyes widening like plates as she swiped the phone to answer, and you didn’t even have the chance to take the device back.

“Well that was qui– Hey, who are you?” Robin put the phone to her face, seeing Eddie on the screen, and she almost barked out a laugh when she remembered the show she witnessed of him two weeks ago. She held in her laughter, taking a deep breath in to begin talking.

“Hi, I’m Robin–”

“Ah, you’re Robin, hi there!” Eddie smiled into the camera and Robin blinked slightly at how charismatic this man was, not at all what she thought a stripper would be like, and she realized that you talked to him about her. 

“Robin, what the shit!” You yelled on her side and she put the phone to show your face and you instantly turned red at seeing Eddie, face to face, even on camera, but you kept your gaze on the device, even if the butterflies in your belly swarmed all around.

“Well, hello there Bunny. I see you’re at the mall.” He said with a smile and you nodded about to start talking, but Robin put the phone to her face after shooting a glare towards your way.

“Eddie, I’ve been here for a fucking hour, I want you to see the shit she’s been picking.” You stared at her in complete offense after yelling a ‘Hey!’ but she completely ignored you, grabbing onto the white bland shirt you picked earlier and showing it to Eddie with the phone. “This, but in black, in brown, in beige, in gray… And not one single dress or skirt!” 

“That really won’t do… We’ll pick for her, Robin, show me the rack.” He winked at the camera and Robin only rolled her eyes at him. He knew he could throw those kinds of jokes with her and not with you, because that would only spur you into nervousness. 

“You guys know I’m still here, right?” You said, crossing your arms over your chest and Robin pointed the camera at you so she could keep eye scanning the various shirts that were hanging there. Eddie frowned into the camera and shook his head.

“You cannot possibly tell me you feel sexy in a bland white t-shirt.” You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at the floor like a kid that just got called out and Eddie had to contain the smile that was coming into his face.

“What do you know…” You mumbled, and even in the ambience of the mall, it was audible enough for your microphone to pick it up. Eddie chuckled and rubbed his cheek.

“A lot. Robin, got anything?” At the call of her name, Robin pointed the camera to her face and shook her head.

“The store we’re in is practically for ladies over 50. She never once entered stores that have clothing of our generation.” She shot a glare at you and you stuck her tongue out at her which she scoffed at. “Don’t stick your tongue out at me!”

“Okay, hand me over.” Robin gave you the phone and you sighed, putting your face in the screen, scowling at Eddie. You should feel offended, but you knew deep inside you that they were right, and you were just going for comfort instead of something you actually would like. 

“What?” You snapped at him, making his eyes widen, his eyebrows disappearing under his fringe.

“No need to get snappy with me. Darling, did you really not see anything you liked?” He squinted into the camera and you adjusted yourself, glancing at the floor for a second but he noticed. He noticed the body language, and he knew that you had indeed seen something you liked and didn’t even dare to try it on, or even go into the store.

“I… Um…” Eddie sighed and that made you look up into the screen again. He looked fresh out of the shower, his hair up in a wet bun with some strands falling to the sides of his face. The black shirt covering him, and you could see the tattoos that were on his neck coming out.

“Okay, I want you to take us where you’ve seen that something you liked. I want you to at least try it on, whatever it is. I don’t care if it’s a care bears shirt, I just want you to go pick something you like.” He was patient with you, and Robin took notice of that. She was amazed by how carefree he was, and how careful he was being with his words so that you wouldn’t get scared easily. He wasn’t pressuring you, and he wasn’t commanding you really. 

“Okay…” You mumbled in a low tone and Robin’s eyes widened. He hit the spot and she didn’t even notice if you glanced at something you liked or not. You walked out of the store, Robin following right behind and Eddie called Robin out to get the phone. She grabbed it and looked into the camera.

“Is it true you fought a raccoon and grabbed its tail and simply hammer threw it the fuck out of the garden?” He said with a chuckle and Robin immediately started laughing, almost snorting as she remembered that night.

Her, Nancy and you were chilling at Nancy’s pool, drinking a few cocktails made at home, when out of nowhere a raccoon appeared and for some reason wanted Nancy’s ankle bracelet. Poor Nancy ran all over her garden until a very drunk Robin threw herself on the raccoon, grabbed it by the tail, spun around and flung it over to the neighbor’s garden.

It seems you told Eddie that story.

“Fuck yeah I did, it might have had rabies, and it’s one of my number one phobias! I couldn’t risk it!” Eddie started cracking up as you entered the colorful store, making Robin look around. She noticed you weren’t talking, probably trying to swallow your nerves with each step you took, and that was very much what was happening.

Every step felt like electricity under your feet as you headed straight to the rack of dresses. Robin was not talking as well as Eddie, waiting for you to grab something. You took a deep breath in, maybe two. Your hand slowly reached out and grabbed hold of the lilac dress you saw before on the mannequin. Robin’s eyes widened and looked down at Eddie and gave him a small nod but didn’t show him what you picked. 

Eddie was biting his thumb, the curiosity killing him but he was sure you were debating whether to try it on or not. After a minute he saw Robin’s eyes widen as she moved a bit, the lights of the store over her head. He straightened up on the chair and then Robin whispered down to him.

“She went into the changing room, Eddie. I’ve never seen her in a dress before. What if I fall in love with my best friend? I can’t handle this.” It was a joke of course, she could never fall in love with you, not when she had her eyes on Vickie for the past two years, but it would be the first time she would see you in a dress. Last time it was a prom dress and it wasn’t even tight or anything, it was long sleeved, with a nice fall but nowhere tight to your body shape.

“Okay, just, keep calm, and do not show distaste if you don’t like it. She liked it, that’s the important thing.” Robin nodded at his words as she waited patiently for you. 

“This might take a while though…” She knew that you might be looking at yourself for a long while inside, so she looked down at Eddie to start striking some conversation, maybe a private one that you should not hear. “Why are you helping her so much?”

“Well… Honestly, I don’t know… I guess at first I was intrigued, wondering if there was such a thing as being shy towards men, but she is actually pretty cool. She likes The Lord of The Rings, so that’s a plus.” He said with a smile and Robin could only laugh at that, shaking her head. Of course the stripper was a total nerd like yourself. 

“Yeah… You know… This only happens with attractive men only.”

“Are you, a lesbian, hitting on me?”

“Shut the fuck up.” She shook her head at him as he threw his head back with laughter but then she cleared her throat. “I don’t know if she told you, but… She had dates before, but they weren’t with men she was attracted to.” Eddie’s eyes widened slightly at that and Robin shook her head. “It’s more like, attractive guys in general. Not like a personal attraction to a guy.” 

Eddie hummed at that, completely in thought. So it wasn’t that you were personally attracted to him. This happened to you with every man that you found hot basically, and Eddie knew that he was a handsome man. As well as Billy and Steve are. There’s no need to be humble about that, because if he weren’t, he wouldn’t have gotten the job he has now.

“She’s getting better though.” He clarifies and Robin smiles at him, and nods.

“Yeah, she is, slowly but–” She cut herself off as she looked over the phone and her mouth hung open. 

You had walked out of the changing room, after five minutes of staring at yourself in the mirror, your eyes full of tears as you looked at yourself. Tears that weren’t of sadness, of disappointment, of disgust… You liked yourself in the mirror. For the first time in your life, you had tried on a casual dress, and you didn’t dislike what you saw.

The lilac dress hugged your body with a few sinches at the front, the semi-princess sleeves falling over your shoulders, hugging your biceps, and the dress stopped right in the middle of your thighs. The top of your breasts popped out slightly from the bunched fabric of the top, the small golden chain hanging from your neck and then your white sneakers completed the outfit just right.

“Holy fucking shit…” Robin only exclaimed and you just stood there, breathing heavy as you waited for her response. She just tapped on the screen, two times, to turn the camera around so the back camera would face you. 

Eddie’s air got knocked out of his lungs.

He was still looking at you, eyes staring at the screen as if he was seeing a long lost puzzle solved in front of his eyes and he didn’t want to miss one single second of it. His words were in his throat, wanting to say so much but for some reason his mouth was not cooperating, frozen, slightly opened in a surprised motion. His eyes roamed your body, top to bottom, and jesus fuck, you weren’t doing justice to yourself, hiding behind all those baggy clothes and bland colors. The purple color matched perfectly against your skin tone.

“I shouldn’t buy it, right? You both aren’t saying anything at all…” You voiced out your thoughts, which in the past you would have kept inside your inner monologue and do whatever you thought was best for you. For your mental stability that is. Robin immediately got up from the chair she was waiting on and pointed at you.

“Y-You… We’re getting every single color of that dress.” Robin says, stuttering at how different you look from your normal self. It was way more than just looking good, there’s like a light that it’s not quite bright around you yet, but it’s dim, wanting to become stronger each second you stand there in your new clothes.

“R-Really?” You bit your lip nervously and Robin looked down on the screen and saw that Eddie was still stunned on his chair, looking at his screen. She smirked and looked up at you again.

“Look, you left a stripper speechless, I think that usually goes the other way around.” At that, Eddie snapped out, a blush creeping on his cheeks when he realized he was caught staring without hiding it at all, without being discreet. He cleared his throat and motioned for Robin to turn him so that you could see him.

Robin flipped the camera so the front one would start filming now, before handing the phone to you. Your stomach was in nervous knots, anxious to know what a man like him would think. Expectant to see if this wasn’t too much for you, wanting to know if this actually suited a woman like you at all and they weren’t just saying it because they are your friends.

Is that what Eddie was? A friend? You would really like to think so. You were hoping he would feel the same way about that, because that would mean he would be your first ever male friend. Real friend. You looked at Eddie on the screen, and his eyes were lit up, a big smile on his face and your chest thumped at that sight.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, Sweetheart… How do you feel in it?” He asks and you clear your throat to hide your nervousness, looking down at the floor.

“I uh… I feel comfortable in it… I-I like it.” Robin was almost jumping in excitement at your words and Eddie wanted to fist pump the air at the news.

“Good, good… You’re going to buy it then?” He asks, and that’s the next step of it all. Not letting self doubt eat you up at the last second. Be confident in the decision you chose from the very beginning, not letting the eye of strangers change it, nor their thoughts. What matters is the reflection you saw when you put on the dress, all alone, inside the dressing room.

You gave a nod and handed the phone back to Robin to hide back into the changing room. Robin waited till you couldn’t see her anymore and squealed into the camera in excitement, Eddie chuckling at the reaction but feeling victorious as well. This was like watching a bird hatch. Slowly, but surely, the beak breaks the shell, piece by piece, and that’s what it felt when they both watched you.

“I cannot believe you actually managed this…” Robin says with surprise in her tone and Eddie simply shook his head. 

“I didn’t really do anything, she was the one that approached me for help. I am just guiding her through it.” He explains to Robin and she gives him a soft nod, and then Eddie’s smile slowly fell, nerves wrecking his body. “Hey um… I might need your help for the next thing…”

After a few minutes, you came out of the changing room, and slowly walked towards the cashier, trying to let your hands hand the dress towards the nice lady, and then giving her your card. You were feeling a rush of adrenaline coming up on you, as if you were using the money you made for something other than necessities. You were treating yourself.

“Have a good day!” The lady said, giving you the bag, and you blushed, with a nod, walking out with Robin who was still chatting up with Eddie.

“Eddie says Make-Up is next.” You were getting kinda angry that they were talkative with one another, but happy at the same time that they enjoyed the conversation they were having. You started heading towards Sephora, and then you heard Eddie’s voice calling out to you, Robin handing you the phone.

He was smiling at you, and you felt those nerves in your tummy but not as strongly as before. Your eyes traveled to his tattooed neck until he called you out again.

“Stop ogling and listen to me.” He says with a chuckle, making you blush a deep red, wanting to drive your face away from the screen but before you could do so, he kept talking. “I want to invite you to my apartment tomorrow night. We can have a few drinks and have some dinner, and you can meet Steve and Billy, properly this time.” He finished with a nervous smile.

Eddie was actually nervous for this step, but it was needed. The only male you had interacted with until now, was him. He wanted to see how you would interact with other guys, hence, Steve and Billy, both knowing about your situation. They agreed to help you, and Eddie was grateful for that. 

Your stomach dropped to the floor at that. The other two. The other two strippers. Eddie’s friends. But it was just that right? He wanted to introduce you to his friends, like Robin was introduced today, but that meant you would be alone with three hot guys in a room, and that is something that was making you tremble with nerves already, Eddie noticing the slight shake on the camera.

“Shit, important detail. I invited Robin too. You won’t be here alone with just the three of us… Just thought it would be cool since we got the day off tomorrow, and they want to meet you actually.” He tries to make your shoulders untense, and try to calm you down, and it seems it works, because you frowned and looked at Robin who was next to you looking at Eddie.

“Yep, I’m for it, I mean, I have so many questions about their profession.” She encourages with a smile and you look at the screen again, gulping the nerves down to your belly. You felt yourself sweat at the outcome of all of this, but either way, you nodded at Eddie. He smiled widely, showing his bright teeth, and fist pumping the air.

“Fuck yeah, I make very mean nachos. I’ll make them tomorrow! You’ll love them!” He says with a chuckle and you giggle out, finally a sigh of relief leaving your lips.

“I like spicy.” Eddie held in the smirk at your words, closing his eyes to not make a dirty joke out of it. 

Too early for that.

“Robin, I should go change, this is not okay, I didn’t have time to practice my contour, it must look horrible, you just don’t want to say it, but it’s okay! I can take it! Just please, turn so I can fix it–”

“SHUT UP! I’M DRIVING FOR FUCK SAKE!” Robin Buckley lost her patience with you, once again. You flinched at the loud words, making you sink in the passenger’s seat. You were wearing the dress you bought, plus a denim jacket you got in another store and your white reeboks at your feet. 

“I don’t know why you got to wear jeans and I have to wear a dress. I look… like I am trying too hard…” You sighed out, the six pack of beer in your lap, clinking every now and then at the movement of the car. Robin wanted to kill you, to put it simply, but she loved you too much to do so. 

“I dress like a lesbian dyke. I don’t really have dresses, or skirts, you know that!” You giggled at that and you had to admit she had a point there. “You look good, casual, and so pretty. I helped you with your makeup and we did a fantastic job.” You nodded at that and tried to calm your own nerves as Robin turned the street and finally parked. Your breathing rate increased as you looked up at the building, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“Robin, I–”

“I’ll be there with you, the moment you feel like throwing up or leaving, we’re out of there. But they seem really nice, and FRIENDLY.” She emphasized the word and you sighed, that actually worked to untense your situation. 

“Okay… okay… I can do this, I can make male friends.” You say, opening the passenger’s door open and Robin chuckling in her seat as she opened her door.

“That’s my girl.” She says excitedly, locking the car behind her as you both head towards the doorbells panel. You notice that there aren’t many buttons, despite the building being quite large. Robin takes the initiative and you grip onto the six pack even tighter, wanting to run away from here, but you wouldn’t.

You weren’t running again. Robin was going to be there, Eddie you’ve already seen, it’s fine, everything will be fine.

Robin rang the doorbell and without even replying, the door opened. Robin smiled at you, opening the door for you to get by and you looked all around the lobby as you both walked to the elevator. 

Each floor the elevator passed, the more you felt coldness at your feet, and you felt as if your makeup was completely melting on your face, but the reflection on the elevator’s walls told you differently. Everything seemed okay, which calmed your nerves a bit, and you took a deep breath in before jumping at the ding sound of finally arriving at the designated floor. 

Robin helped you out of the metal cell and you moved with heavy steps towards apartment B. You noticed that there were only two apartments per floor, so this meant that the floor was big. Robin bit her cheek and looked at you. She wasn’t going to admit to you that she was nervous too, that would completely wreck you, but she was. She was meeting new people, which she had no trouble with, but she was still keeping her guard up just in case.

“You ready?”

“No, but what can I do about that?” You reply, getting a chuckle out of Robin.

“Good.” And like that, she rang the doorbell. Your eyesight was immediately dropped to the floor, six pack in one hand, grabbing it by the handle, biting the inside of your cheek to just bite into something, other than your fingers. You heard some talking behind the door, making your belly almost ache at how nervous you were feeling at the moment, but anxious to get this night over with. 

You heard some heavy steps, and your body was trying to ignite the Flight mode, wanting to dash out of there as soon as possible, but you kept your eyes at your reeboks. It’s Eddie, it’s going to be okay.

The door finally opened and in your vision came some old reeboks, not the same model as yours, and that made your nerves go away a bit, noticing the similarity of clothes. You slowly looked up, noticing the black ripped jeans first, the black belt, then the tight black simple t-shirt on, and your sight stopped at his arms. Covered in tattoos, and there, sure enough was the bat tattoo he mentioned. 

“Welcome to my coven ladies.” That made your eyes shoot up, completely widened with a blush and Eddie was smiling at you, biting at his tongue. “Come in, come in, don’t want those beers to get cold!” He cheerfully moves aside and Robin grabs the six pack out of your hands and walks past Eddie and into his house.

You just stood there, hands behind your back as the biting in the inside of your cheek worsened. What if Steve and Billy do not like you? What if they aren’t as patient as Eddie is? Should you return when it’s just Eddie alone here? Maybe you can video call them, meeting them like that, less personal–

“Sweetheart.”

You were cut off from your thoughts, your eyes locking with Eddie’s again as he smiled down at you. He put his hand out tentatively and this would be the second time you would ever touch him. Graze skin on skin with his, with a man, with an attractive man. You stared at it for a few seconds, heart on your throat and a shaky hand slowly rising up to meet his. His grin widened and he made you do a twirl, causing you to yelp slightly.

“Look at you! That looks great on you, princess.” He wanted to say so many things. He wanted to say you looked beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, incredibly sexy, but he didn’t want you to think he was flirting with you, which in a deep part of him, he would be more than delighted to do so, but he was fine in just being your friend.

“T-Thank you.” You squeaked out and you wanted to tell him he looked good too, but that would already be flirting, right? But you do tell Robin she looks good, and she’s just your friend, and she never receives the compliments as flirting. Same with Nancy and the other girls.

But with Eddie, it was still a big challenge for you to do so. Much more when it was about his looks.

“Alright, let’s go inside! I want to show you around!” He said with a smile, moving aside for you to enter. You slowly walked inside, feeling each step heavy on the floor and your eyes widened at how spacious the whole place was. The ambience reminded you of a New York artist loft. You saw the large couch in the middle with the TV at the front and a coffee table in between, a library filled with different books, a guitar in a corner, some weights in another, large windows, and a snail staircase in one side of the room.

Now you realize why there weren’t so many buttons in the building. The apartments consisted of two floors. You were amazed by it, but you guessed that three people paying for one single place has its perks and you can always aim for something bigger. The kitchen can be seen from where you’re standing, a large island counter separating it from the living room. Robin was there, putting the beers inside the fridge and taking out three cold ones.

“Mi casa es su casa.” Eddie says, closing the door behind him, Robin speaking after him.

“Where’s the stripper pole?” You choked at that, sending a glare towards Robin who just shrugged at you, but Eddie laughed at Robin’s question, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if you remember, but there were no poles at the club we work at.” He says as if it were a matter of fact and Robin just nodded, heading towards the both of you with the beers in her hands. Eddie quickly grabbed one, snapping open the can and then you grabbed the second one. Maybe this will help with your nerves, hopefully.

Eddie immediately guided you both towards the library and you were fascinated by the amount of literature that was there, mostly fantasy and horror, which were your favorite types of books, apart from the normal romantic shenanigans.

“So, this is basically all yours?” You added and Eddie smirked, nodding.

“Yeah, the other two can’t grab a book even if their lives depended on it.”

“We heard that Munson!” You heard some metal stomping from the stairs, someone coming down, and the hairs behind your neck stood on end at the male voice that sounded in your ears.

Not only that, but following on those steps, there were more, which meant both of the other men were coming down the stairs to greet you. You froze in place, sound around you becoming non-existent and you could swear you heard Robin talking, probably introducing herself. A soft touch grazed your shoulder, making you look up in a jump, and Eddie was shooting you a warm smile. 

You were here with Eddie, and Robin. You were here with friends. They were friends.

Eddie was nervous, of course, but you didn’t look pale, which was a good enough sign for him to turn towards Steve and Billy and introduce you to them. You bit your lip and slowly turned your head, feeling the rock in your tongue trying to weigh it down until you finally locked with the first set of eyes. Brown ones.

“Eye locking. Nice! I am Steve.” He said with a smile, putting his hand out for a handshake. He was instructed by Eddie to provoke physical contact. You were like a cat, he explained. You needed to feel comfortable enough to let yourself break loose and the handshake was kind of the sniffing animals did to detect any threats.

You felt your cheeks burn at the praise, licking your lips as your breathing started picking up a pace again, but still you raised your shaking hand up, Eddie’s eyes looking at you, making sure you were okay, and then you held onto Steve’s hand, moving it slightly as a greeting. Steve seemed pleased with that, smiling at you with a nod, and letting go of your hand after a second.

Robin exhaled the air out of her lungs, giving Eddie a thumbs up, hiding it from you and he gave Robin a small nod. Now, it was Billy’s turn. And your eyes widened when he locked his gaze on you. His eyes are just so bright that you cannot handle it, feeling completely watched by him, as if scanned, and you turned your gaze away.

“Calm Sweets, it’s alright. I’m Billy.” You took a deep breath in, gulping down and closing your eyes as you remembered that night. This man looked slightly intimidating, a sexy aura simply spilling from his pores, but when he encouraged that old lady to touch him, you were sure he was trying to make her feel young again, let her feel adventurous, with a kind smile on his face.

So you gazed up again, Eddie’s eyes widening at your action and giving Billy a nod to stick his hand out. You looked at his hand and licked your lips as you raised your trembling hand towards him. His hands were rough, and he was probably the one that used the weights the most. He smiled when you looked up to him again, no salacious look, or a hint of smugness, just a kind welcoming smile.

And you knew you were safe.

He let go of your hand and Eddie finally let the breath out of his lungs that he was holding in. He was afraid he would have to take you to the ER or something, probably fainting here and hitting your head on something, but you proved him wrong. And he was really proud of you, looking at you with a smile to his face as well as Robin coming to your side to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, I already ordered pizza, so I assumed everyone likes Pepperoni.” Steve says as you all moved to the island counter to sit at the stools, you were in between Robin and Eddie, taking a gulp out of your beer.

“What if I’m allergic Dingus?” Robin says to him as he sat next to her and he shot her a quizzical look.

“Did you just call me dingus?” He asked and you couldn’t help the snort that came out of your throat as Billy chuckled, getting two beers out of the fridge. 

“Well yeah, you don’t know us, what if we wanted, I don’t know… Anchovy pizza?” She asked and all three boys grimaced at that.

“Who the fuck would like that?” Billy asked and you gulped in embarrassment, Robin shooting you a look. You have to be brave, confident in the things you like, in the things you are passionate about, just like Eddie said. Don’t let anyone diminish the things you most enjoy in life.

“I– I do…” Eddie’s eyes widened, looking down at you, shaking his head.

“You can’t possibly be serious Princess…” Eddie says and you frown at that, looking at him with an offended look on your face, but very protective of your tastes.

“Maybe you tried the wrong kind of Anchovy pizza!” You defend and Eddie lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

“Who would even try that in the first place?!” He retorts and you point at him with your finger, squinting at him.

“So you didn’t try it… Your argument is invalid.” You finish and take a sip out of your can, Robin slowly clapping at you for shutting him up and you bow with your head at her. Eddie’s eyes were boring into your skull and Billy shrugged at him.

“She is right though, Harrington, call the place and order another one, with Anchovies, we gotta try that shit now.” Steve simply rolled his eyes at his friend and Eddie was shaking his head.

“Nope, nope! I am not trying that.” He takes a sip out of his beer as Steve sends a message to the pizza place to order that one other pizza. Robin’s phone buzzes, and she looks down on it, you peeking over your shoulder to see she received a notification from her dating app.

“Is that Carol?” You ask and Robin shook her head, opening the app to reply to a girl she just made a match with. Steve also took a peek on the other side and he almost spat his beer when he saw the profile picture. Everyone looked at him with a shocked expression and he wiped his mouth, pointing at the phone.

“That’s not a girl.” Steve claims and your eyes widened, same as Robin’s as you both looked at Steve. Robin scoffed and put up the profile of the person she made a match with.

“It is a girl, I only have my app set to get girls.” She says and Steve shook his head, pointing at something in the picture. 

“It’s literally a filter. You can see the smudge of them trying to wipe off the beard.” Robin was blinking at him as if he were insane and you were chugging down your beer out of pure nerves. You didn’t like the sound of that, anxiety filling up in your chest as you heard those words coming out of Steve’s mouth.

“So, he is a creep?” Robin asks and at that Steve nods, taking a sip out of his beer and makes a shoving motion to her phone.

“Delete that app, they suck.” He says and Robin simply huffs at him, putting her phone down to look at him.

“And how do you expect me to find available hot babes?” At that, Steve rolled his eyes as the rest of you watched the interaction closely. The two of them were talking as if they were long distant friends, immediately engaging in a very intense debate into whether the dating apps work better than engaging conversation in a bar or club, randomly. 

“Totally engaging conversation in a bar.” Eddie states as Steve points him out as a thank you. 

“Not everyone is as charismatic as you guys are, just mind you! Behind a screen is much safer, at least for me.” Robin states and you just sipped on your beer, not really involving yourself in the conversation because you had done neither. You never interacted in a bar with another man, and you never downloaded any dating app on your phone. 

You weren’t going to ever make the first move, and men hardly approached you at public places because your friends snatched you away before they could engage in conversation with you. Not that if you stayed you would have talked to him. You most likely would have just frozen in place.

During this whole ordeal you didn’t notice the pair of blue eyes that were watching you as you quietly drank down your can of beer, already finishing it. Your name was called, and you raised your head up, noticing Billy was calling out to you.

“What’s your opinion on all this?” He asked you and your throat closed up, feet becoming cold as his eyes scanned your reaction. The nerves in your belly became alive once more, feeling their eyes almost burning into your body as they waited for your answer.

“I– I never really… Um…” You gulped trying to find your words and Eddie was glaring at Billy for making you nervous but his friend glared back, shaking his head at him as if telling Eddie to not intervene.

“Sweetheart… Eddie has helped a lot, I know that, but… What is going to happen if a guy you’re talking to suddenly flirts with you? Someone you might be attracted to?” Billy asks you and you look down at your cup, blinking at it. Eddie has taught you the easy part. The friendly part. But in the end, your ultimate goal was to be able to be with someone you were attracted to. Someone that you actually liked not only spiritually but physically too.

And how were you going to do that when you didn’t know how to flirt? Much less, how to react when being flirted at?

“Munson, scooch.” You heard Billy say and Eddie gave you a look, which you didn’t reciprocate because you were still looking down at your can. Eddie knew that this part was going to come sooner or later, but he didn’t intend for Billy to take the initiative. Not today at least. It was supposed to be a way of getting to know the other two and loosen you up with other men other than himself.

Eddie stood up from his stool and exchanged places with Billy. You closed your eyes as you felt the blood in your body slowly leaving you but you were brought back to your senses when Robin pressed a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, I’m here…” She reassures you and you look up to her, gulping heavily as the anxious feeling in your belly moves around, but you fight through it, turning your head to look at Billy who smiled sweetly at you, and that friendly smile made your shoulders relax just a bit.

“Alright… We’re friends now, okay? This is only to help you. Even if what I say is true, there is no hidden intention behind it, but what I want you to know is that, when a person flirts with you, it’s not only you who has to have confidence, it’s the other person as well, so basically you are both on the same boat.” Billy explains to you, and you slowly nod in understanding and then Robin intervenes.

“Yeah, it’s not like I am a flirting machine, you know how nervous I get about that.” You turned to look at her, and yes, you do remember how she explained to you how nervous she got when a girl approached her at a club one time, and she wouldn’t stop ramblings about whales for some reason. 

So everyone gets nervous about it, not only you, you are not the only one who gets shy about it, or bashful, and that soothes the knots in your belly just a bit more. 

“So, what I wanna try with you, is give you a compliment, and for you to give another one back.” Billy continues and your head snaps at him with widened eyes. This was a big step, a huge one, and your heart is already beating in anticipation as to what he might say. You glanced at Eddie once, and he gave you a reassuring nod, and it was as if you just received a message from him that played in your head.

‘It’s alright.’

Robin’s hand was pressed on your shoulder still, as you looked at Billy and how his demeanor slightly changed. His eyes suddenly gazed at you with another type of spark in them, as his smile turned into a small one, a little bit higher on one side, and his body moved towards you, just slightly as he leaned against the counter.

His eyes were looking into yours, and your mind was yelling at you, screaming, grasping at every cell to make you run away, that this was stupid, that this was impossible for you, that there was no way this would happen in other circumstances.

“You look beautiful tonight, sweetheart.” 

Your breath got caught in your throat, feeling it closing in, and how can you believe such thing? How is that man telling you something like that? You’re nothing special really, you’re pretty bland. Pretty normal.

And that’s when you felt yourself snap.

You put on the dress you felt nice in, you put on makeup for the first time in which Robin helped and you liked the outcome of it. You looked down at your lap, your knuckles white in tight fists as you tried to even out your breath, thinking of a response to him, maybe about his attire as well? About his perfume? What?

“Say anything that comes to mind darling. Anything at all.” You heard Eddie’s voice ringing from afar, and you took a deep breath in, settling on one thought only as you looked up to meet Billy’s gaze again, who was now smiling encouragingly at you, leaving behind the smug grin.

“Y-Your eyes are pretty.” Billy’s eyes widened at that, as well as everyone else’s in the room and you felt your whole face heating up as a wave of embarrassment filled your body. You said too much, it was too forward, you came too strong, what if he took it the wrong way, what if they think you are weird? What if–

“Oh, you made Billy blush!” You heard Steve exclaim excitedly and you paid attention to Billy again who was hiding his face under his hand, which he had across, palm on one cheek, fingers on the other, but you could see the pink reaching his eyes as he looked away. Eddie finally laughed out loud, patting Billy in the back.

“She’s a fast learner isn’t she?” Eddie said proudly and you were still stunned, staring at Billy. You made someone like him blush, feel bashful for your flirting, and you never knew you could do that. You always thought that was your position, that the one that should always remain shy and embarrassed was supposed to be you.

Everyone was laughing at Billy while he tried to stop all of them from doing so, that he is trying to help only and it was backfiring him, so you turn to Robin with a smile on your face.

“You have a pretty laugh!” At that Robin shut up, stunned, looking at you.

“I– what–” She was turning red, you could see it on her ears as Steve chuckled behind her, already pointing at them to make fun of her, but you looked at him this time, your bravery becoming bigger and bigger.

“Your hair is great, Stevie.” You added a pet name this time, which made him jump and you could see the thin line on his lips as he looked away while rubbing the back of his head, and then you turned to your final person.

Eddie was wide eyed, looking at you, feeling his chest pressing on him as your eyes scanned him. You on the other hand, you almost lost your power, and you felt a tingling sensation in your fingers, a warmth spreading from your throat towards your face, but there is one compliment, one thought, that you always wanted him to know.

“You’re beautiful, Eddie.”

He just kept looking at you, as the other three people in the room fussed about how you managed to be suddenly bold enough to compliment them out of nowhere, but your eyes stayed focused on Eddie. There wasn’t embarrassment for some reason, and you felt yourself smile when he flexed his jaw, turning towards the fridge to hide the intense blush he felt coming to his face.

He has women all over him, almost every night, touching him, saying things to his ears, scenting him, worshiping him, yet… Yet your small innocent compliment was enough to stir him up in a way he hasn’t felt like in so long. A hurricane whirling in his stomach as he grabbed a beer and put it on the counter. You were laughing now, seeing how Robin was making fun of Steve, while Billy chuckled at how flustered Robin was looking.

Eddie licked his lips, rounding the counter, stepping behind Billy and then finally standing behind you. You weren’t paying attention to his movements but Billy caught on him as Eddie slowly reached down, getting close to your ear, his voice lowering in a whisper. Your stiffened in your seat as you remembered this same position being the one in that night at the strip club. The hot breath on your skin, and the scent of his cologne invading you completely.

“Thank you, angel.” 

Robin stopped bickering with Steve to look at your face, widening when she saw you had turned slightly pale. She looked at Eddie as he backed off, ready to scold him but then you softly whispered, low, but you still talked, surprising everyone in the room.

“My pleasure…” 

Robin immediately hugged you tightly, snapping you out of your embarrassed trance, wondering what was going on as she rubbed her cheek at the top of your head.

“You didn’t faint! You didn’t freeze! This is a miracle!” You heard Eddie laughing as he returned to his previous position and you looked at him as he raised his beer to you as in a cheer motion. You gulped tightly as your eyes were still locked into his, while Robin was excitedly hugging you.

It was a miracle alright.

The doorbell rang after a few minutes and the next second, you were all digging into the pizzas as the munchies from the alcohol started kicking in. You looked at everyone, grabbing a slice of the anchovy pizza except for Robin.

“I already tried it and it wasn't to my taste.” She says, grimacing at the memory of it. The first one to take a bite was Steve, who immediately spat it out into a napkin.

“What the fuck… Yeah, no, that’s not edible.” You had a slice already so you knew the pizza was delicious, not a quality failure. You pouted and looked at Billy who was still chewing his piece and slowly put it down on his place, swallowing after a few seconds.

“This is definitely something else, darling.” He says, clearly showing his dislike. You looked at Eddie who was just staring disgustedly at the anchovy’s eye on top of his pizza.

“Do I really have to?” He asked and for some reason, you really wanted Eddie to like the pizza, your taste in pizza, but your hopes crashed down when the other two didn’t, so you were pretty sure he was going to dislike it.

“You don’t have to…” You mumbled to him, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more because of your particular taste and Eddie noticed that. He noticed the change in your tone and  he immediately took a big bite out of his pizza, closing his eyes as he waited for the taste to hit his tongue.

The four of you looked at him as he chewed with his eyes closed, and then his shoulders untensed, relaxing completely, his eyes opening in a confused look as he looked down at his slice, still chewing as if he were in shock.

“Well?” Robin asks him and Eddie’s stomach grumbles as the new flavor fills his mouth.

“This is fucking excelent. Why the fuck did I never try this shit before?” He says as he takes another bite, and you look at him to search for any hint of him taking pity on you, and just saying that so you wouldn’t feel embarrassed, but he then took two more bites and the slice was gone. He immediately reached for another one and looked at you. “If you don’t take another slice, I’m gonna eat all of this by myself.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, you immediately reached out and grabbed another slice, smiling as you looked at Eddie while you took a bite, and he returned the smile in the same way. 

The rest of the group was simply horrified.

You looked at the pizza, and then back at Eddie.

“Where are the Nachos you promised me?” And he stopped chewing, facepalming his forehead.

“I forgot…” You shook your head at that, and giggled at his pink cheeks.

“It’s okay, you can make them next time.” You say out loud, and Robin was completely surprised that you were the one that initiated the invitation to another gathering this time, but she kept her mouth closed as she grabbed onto a pepperoni pizza slice. Eddie almost froze at the words, but smiled at you, taking a bite of his slice.

“My pleasure.”

End of Part 3

TAGLIST IS CLOSED. FOLLOW ME AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS TO RECEIVE THE UPDATES. it just got too long guys.

a/n: Next chapter is when everything simply moves on. Trust me, this will turn spicy... Spicy.

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[cursedmoon-doll13]

If It Serves You.

(Headmaster!Severus Snape x Reader)

Cw: Non/Dubcon + Aftermath, Afab Reader, Dark-ish Snape, Unprotected Sex, Powerplay, Sex as Bargaining, Facefucking, Crying, Fingering, Creampie, Begging, Degradation (use of slut) and Praise, Reader calls Snape ‘Headmaster,’ Former Student Reader, Mentions of Torture/Child Abuse, Denial of Feelings.

READ WITH CAUTION

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: As a professor of Hogwarts, your past ambitions, your fragile hope and unrelenting diligence have all led to nothing. Now, you are powerless beneath the rising force of He Who Must Not Be Named and his army of Death Eaters. The only thing left you have to give is your pride; your weak and vulnerable body.

Or, you beg the new headmaster to show mercy to your students in exchange for sexual favours.

Dividers by @/saradika

Of course, there was no pressing need to check and recheck the potions’ storage. Certainly no need to catalogue it twice. You did almost it out of instinct, or force of habit. Yes, It’s healthy to maintain a routine, including routine inspections, just like- just like-

“Professor ___,” comes a gruff voice from behind. In your nervous state, you imagine it is a Carrow, and freeze in panic. “Why are you here?”

You whirl around. No. It’s Professor Slughorn.

“Oh,” you straighten your robes. “Horace. I was just taking inventory.”

“Were you? I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” He says brusquely.

“Of course, of course you can.”

Your voice carries the same placid, appealing tone with which you’ve used to calm your pupils. You wince at the sound of it. Then, his expression loosens. Not immediately, but little by little, settling into the creases and wrinkles of stress and age. His walrus moustache droops into a familiar frown.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, ___,” he says. “Whenever I leave my storage unattended for too long, I take this terrible notion that some very bright and brilliant student is going to brew a polyjuice potion. Heh.”

His laughter rings rather hollow.

“Yes, those were my thoughts exactly,” you concede, heaving a sigh. “It would be so simple. Not for all of them, but some of our best could do it. And then they would make a reckless attempt at escaping, or even try to impersonate one of those Death…”

You stop yourself, and peer carefully into his face.

You’ve noticed how Horace has visibly deflated, how he has lost his colour over the past few months. How could you not? You would never accuse the Slug of being slovenly, but you’re well aware that beneath all the powder his eye-bags are as sunken as yours.

“It is unfortunate that one of my… One of our best…” It seems that he cannot finish his sentence. Nonetheless, you know who she is.

“It’s a very unfortunate thing,” Professor Slughorn mutters idly. “Very unfortunate…”

He’s fiddling with a ring on one liver-spotted finger. His lips purse periodically, as if a throb in his temple is threatening to burst.

“Horace, It’ll all be alright,” you try to reassure him, knowing you cannot guarantee this.

The only response you receive is a distant nod. He does not stop fussing over his ring. Then, he turns abruptly stony again:

“Well, then,” he says. “You’d best be on your way.”

He dismisses you as curtly as he would a student, but you don’t protest. You know that when you leave, he will pacify his anxiety with a sleeping draught.

As you exit the dungeon and traverse the silent halls, the early winter chill rattles straight through your bones. It seems that Hogwarts grows colder each passing day; colder and emptier. Even when teaching, your classroom is as quiet as death.

Alchemy has never been a popular elective, and now you are down to very few students. Some had also disappeared completely over the Summer, mostly those without Pureblood status or families to support them… You try not to ponder too deeply on it. For their sake - and perhaps also for your own - you keep it together.

Yes. You must stay stubborn and strong. Especially considering what you are about to do now.

You shiver in your thin robes outside of the Headmaster’s office. The griffin sentinel glares haughtily down at you, and for a second you fancy it alive, judging you guilty for some crime. Thinking this, You glance this way and that, wary of onlookers. 

But all of the students are asleep; or at least, they should be. Most of your coworkers have also retired for the evening. You here stand alone. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Sugar Quill.” Your voice echoes eerily. 

The griffin does not budge. The new headmaster has changed the password, of course. You suspected as much, but it was still worth attempting.  

“Amortentia,” you try next. No response. 

You shift, acutely aware of how ridiculous you must appear; a Hogwarts professor stumped by a statue. 

“Polyjuice. Veritaserum. Bezoar… Asphodel.” 

Nothing. 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you huff, already spiked with tight, uneasy tension. “It was so much easier when Dumbledore…”

A low, heavy rumble breaks your train of thought as the spiral staircase emerges. You quickly mount it and climb upwards, boots clattering on the rising stone. It gives way to a large study lined with bookshelves.

You’ve made it into Dumbledore’s office. 

Except it is no longer his. You must remind yourself of this fact often, and each time it stings, like a tiny pricking thorn ingrown into the heart. The study is far draughtier than you remember; devoid and bereft in the absence of Fawkes.

No, Albus is not here. Instead, what scowls over at you from behind the Headmaster’s desk is the unmistakable face of Severus Snape, and he does not appear pleased to see you.

“Kindly inform me why you are in my office.” His voice is slow and measured, but you can sense the venom lurking underneath. 

“I don’t remember ever giving you the password,” he continues, alighting from his chair. “Or have you picked up that nasty eavesdropping habit from one of our pupils?” 

He spat that last word as if it was a curse. 

“No, Severus,” you say quickly. “I guessed it.” 

Severus. Or Professor Snape. But now…

You think you catch him pale ever-so-slightly, or perhaps that is the dim lighting of the room, casting dark, creeping shadows across the floor. While there has never been a cordiality or warmth to your relationship, you recognise that you have been spared the worst of his barbed hostility.

Before now, that is; now, the distance between you is far too great. 

“Did you now?” He sneers.

In response, you draw up, mindful not to appear challenging as you tip your chin. 

“I’m here because I have a proposition for you,” you announce clearly. “I hoped you would be reasonable and hear me out.” 

Snape’s eyes narrow icily and suddenly you are in his Potions class again, overseen with strict authority. One wrong move, and the concoction will spoil and poison you. His black robes billow as he approaches, expanding like the hood of a cobra. 

“There is nothing you could possibly offer me,” he says, folding one shrouded arm over another. “And so there is nothing to discuss. Leave.” 

Your nerves are strung so tight, you can’t help but object: “The Carrows are far too cruel in their methods! Too brutal. The students-” 

“Are very fortunate to have been granted mercy by the Dark Lord,” Snape interrupts, and you swallow thickly. Of course, you could not have forgotten the festering dark mark that now itches underneath his robes, writhing and serpentine.

“But it isn’t enough,” you say, throat sandpaper dry. A rush of urgency floods your system. Now. It needs to be now, before you lose your courage. 

(A gash on the cheek, a row of dark-purplish bruises and welts, a swollen eye, whippings and burns, scars from chains, all so frightened, but brave still.)

“If you agree to grant my students your protection,” your voice falters. “I will give… Myself to you.”

The silence that follows is agonising. His expression is indecipherable; taut and stiff. You’re beginning to think that maybe you weren’t transparent enough. 

Your trembling hands drift towards your top buttons, and you start to undo them bit by bit. 

“Stop,” Snape orders. 

At this, you freeze. Your heart plummets starkly into your intestines. Oh. You hadn’t even considered that he would - or could - reject your offer. You fear you may have tipped the bubbling cauldron over and left it melting through the carpet. As you linger numbly, Snape’s tongue darts between his lips. Light flashes behind his stern black eyes. 

Perhaps he’s considering it, perhaps… 

“Come here,” he says sharply. You obey. 

Shuddering in the winter chill, you watch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the twitch of his lids as his gaze dips steadily downward… Snape’s forefinger comes to brush the fabric from your shoulder, his knuckle grazing your collarbone, and your pulse quickens anew. 

“I’ll do anything,” you plead. “Please, Severus.” 

“You will refer to me as ‘Headmaster,’” he corrects.

“Headmaster…” 

You suck in a shaky breath. Standing this close to him, you can make out the lilac rims of his sunken eyes and the worry lines on his forehead. 

He’s tired… The thought springs to mind, unbidden. 

The hand that tends to the rest of your buttons is not rough, but the coldness of his touch makes you flinch. Snape pulls down your outer robes in one swift motion, and you can’t help but gasp. Your nipples perk from the chill, skin prickled with goosebumps. Underwear was unnecessary, and though you knew that from the start, you are stripped so quickly it still leaves you cringing. He moves to fondle your breasts, and your breathing shallows. You stare desperately towards the floor, towards some old, faded tea stain.

“Fall on your knees, ___,” he tells you. 

You kneel quickly in front of him, and he moves to cup the nape of your neck. You don’t need to be instructed; you do your best to steady your hands and unfasten the button over his crotch. You nudge out his dick, and see that he’s already half-hard. 

Before he changes his mind, you spit into your palm and use it as lubricant as you get to work jerking him off. You can feel him watching you, silent and still. This situation is completely wrong, all wrong, but the awkwardness of it is almost juvenile. 

“___,” he calls above you. You stiffen. You know that cautionary tone. “If you have enough cheek to wag your tongue at me, you can also use it for this.” 

You nod faintly, licking your lips. Of course, you should have prepared for this, too, but you have barely even steeled your nerves. Hesitant, you lean forward and run your tongue along the shaft, tracing a vein. Your movements are practically mechanical; dispensing small, kitten licks over the tip, continuing to stroke him. This is now a kind of out-of-body experience for you, the sort of bizarre circumstance you can only encounter in a very strange dream. 

But then, Snape decides your next course of action for you, clutching your jaw and muffling your whimpers as he sinks into your mouth. 

A teardrop falls softly onto your chest, and it only occurs to you now that you’re crying. You gag out a sob as the tip of Snape’s cock hits the back of your throat, unable to prevent loose spit from dribbling down your chin. Above you, his breath hitches. 

“Open your eyes,” he demands. 

You didn’t know you had closed them; squeezed them tightly shut. You peek up at his pale face. 

His pupils are blown wide, almost entirely black. Snape forbids you to keep eye-contact with a firm grip over your head, and you gag again as he rocks his hips. You clutch his thighs for purchase while he fucks your face, tears streaming down your cheeks. For distraction, you try to focus on him, and his pleasure-stricken expression lulls you in like hypnosis; the tightness of his lips, his dark brows slightly furrowed, the minute twitches in his jaw. 

Snape’s thrusts begin to stutter, but he tightens his hold on you and forces you to take all of him. He drags in a sharp intake of breath, and warm, slightly bitter cum pools onto your tongue. 

“Swallow it. All of it.” 

You gasp for air, gulping it down hastily. 

“You'll be getting used to the taste of me. Stand.” 

Snape urges you up and steers you over to his table. Before you can blink, you’re whirled around and caged against his desk. The edge of it cuts harshly into your naked thighs, and you yelp. You can feel his long black hair sweep over your neck, a sensation that is almost ticklish. Snape yanks down your robes and they fall limply around your boots. Now, you are truly exposed, shivering and naked. The only source of warmth is his body heat pressed into your back, the starched, dark fabric of his clothing. 

His cool hand dips around and feels down your stomach, and your breath hitches as Snape unexpectedly plunges several fingers into your pussy. You shock yourself with how slick you are, mortified at the way he tsks behind you:

“Little slut. Is this what you’ve always wanted?” Snape hisses into your ear, spreading the pads of his fingertips over your labia, teasing your clit. 

“Yes!” You choke out. 

“Yes, Headmaster,” he pinches your clit warningly and it feels like an electric shock. 

“Yes, yes Headmast- ah…!” 

He starts to rub in rough, merciless circles, and you immediately try to stifle a cry against your wrist. Snape rips it impatiently from you. 

“Don’t even try to deny it. I can feel how wet you are.” 

It’s surely not the truth. Surely, you tell yourself... 

One long, deft forefinger slips into your slit and pumps steadily in and out. You let out a soft moan, unable to resist the quivering thrill that coils in your abdomen. You didn’t realise he would even try to prep you, and, against your will, you feel some of your fear dissipate. 

“You think I didn’t notice, did you?” He scoffs. “Always so desperate for my attention, always clamouring for a better grade.” 

Memories of your seventh year at Hogwarts resurface and spiral dizzily in your head. The newest, youngest professor, but strict and competent, and— 

Dark, sweeping cloak, black hair, black eyes… 

I even once wished I could brush away the strands…  

Then he retracts his fingers, slowly, torturously, You hate how you yearn for his touch in its absence, how you crave the buzz to smother your discomfort. 

Snape bends you cleanly over the polished table, your still damp breasts pressing into the hardwood. He traces a long, thin finger down your back, tracing languidly across your spine; you could almost believe his touch is tender. Almost. Instinctively, you try to turn your head to face him, but he denies you with a firm hand gripping the base of your neck. You whimper as he lathers cold precum on your thighs, positioning his straining dick over your entrance:

“…Or was it praise you were hoping for?” His voice is low and subdued. Snape’s breath fans over you, and for a moment you falter.

No, of course you don’t expect— 

No, not from Professor Snape. Only your best was acceptable. To elicit a nod of approval, or even a commending glance, you couldn’t possibly hope—

“Headmaster, I— I only ever wanted you to…” 

“Beg for it,” his tone sharpens again. 

Snape slips the tip of his cock inside your folds. But then, he stops, and does not move. You are trapped between his desk and him, left pitiful and squirming. 

“Headmaster,” you say weakly. “Please.” 

“Please what, ___?” 

You grit your teeth, still bristling at the indignity of it all. But you know that, whether he’s enjoying himself or not, Snape has the patience to wait this out. 

“Please, fuck me!” you plead.

You gasp as he grips your thighs and slides himself in further with a lewd, wet sound. Your walls stretch around him as you adjust to his length. He groans softly and rolls his hips, sinking deeper into your cunt, until you’re utterly full of him.

Despite it all, it feels sinfully good, but his movements are so sluggish that you can’t help but whine pathetically into the wooden table. 

“And what exactly is it that you’ve always wanted?” 

What I always wanted, when I was in Potions class… 

“For you to p-praise me, Headmaster.” 

In an instant, you realise this is true. Deep down, you have always hoped for his sole attention… And now he’s invading that dark, primordial world in between, spurring on those secret and forbidden desires you should never have conceived. 

Snape slowly pulls out, dragging every inch of his cock, and then snaps his hips back in, briefly hitting that sweet, sensitive spot that has you seeing stars. 

“Please!” You add, letting out a shrill moan. 

“And do you? Do you want this…?” 

He mutters so quietly, it almost sounds like he’s begging you. Snape’s pace is set now, rocking powerfully into you as you fill the air with loud, desperate whimpers. 

“I do!” You breathe, mind-numbingly uncertain. 

But it doesn’t matter anymore if you want it or not; the sensation is so overbearing and so ruthless, unforgiving and unfair, just like him. You’re barely cognizant of the arms that curl around your naked waist, almost embracing you, until they provide cushioning against the sharp desk. 

“You take me so well,” he murmurs, “So well.” 

Your head spins, threatening to give up on you completely. You could never have predicted such a drastic change in demeanour. The way he’s treating you now is so different from his earlier cruelty; his affectionate caresses might be almost loving. 

“So tight, so good for me…” He groans again, heavily, and the vibrations thrill up your spine as he spears you on his dick. “You’re doing perfectly.” 

He kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, sighing blissfully. You can feel the spiking thrum of Snape’s heartbeat, the soft touch of his lips on your neck, kissing reverently over your shoulder blade. You wish you could just see the expression on his face, if you could only see Severus for one moment…

“Headmaster,” you pant, craning your head. 

“Don’t,” he says hurriedly. “Don’t look at me.” 

Snape doesn’t relent, forcing you firmly in place with a hard squeeze on your shoulder. There’s something thick and vulnerable in his voice that you can’t place, but all you can respond with is a needy cry as he speeds up, angling his thrusts just right. You can feel the familiar shock of pleasure coiling up in your belly now, surging from how deep he reaches. 

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, aren’t I?” He snaps without warning, bursting with emotion again. You can only nod frantically in response.

“Yes, yes, Headmaster!” You sob, your eyes stinging with tears again.

Snape’s movements only grow stronger, his breathing heavier and huskier. His fingernails are digging small, half-moon indents into your skin. You don’t try to stifle the wanton moans that spill from your lips anymore, clawing for purchase at the wood. 

“___… When you cum, you cum for me.” 

Uncontrollably, you arch into the table. Your leg is cramping up from the exertion, muscles pulled taut, and you’re going to, you’re going to—

Your orgasm drowns the rest of your thoughts in static, white, hot bliss that smothers you. Snape shudders and moans as he buries himself to the hilt, pumping you full of his seed. His black cloak sweeps over you as he pulls out, far too soon, leaving you quivering and dripping with his cum.

The last, mangled strands of lucidity swim hazily in your mind. It takes a moment for you to remember why you were here at all.

After a few seconds, he releases you from the confines of his desk without a word. You bend down and hoist the ring of fabric up past your hips again, though your skin is sticky and damp. After a deep, shaky breath, you dare to glance at Snape. 

There’s a thin sheet of sweat beading his forehead. Snape helps you pull your robes over your shoulders. He silently fastens your buttons back up again for you, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. You don’t rebuff him. Your hands are trembling enough as it is. 

“Promise me that you’ll…” You halt.

Your vision is still blurry, but you could swear he looks like the old Severus. Not the figurehead or the professor, but the man. The Severus you once knew. 

There’s a strange look in his eyes that you don’t understand, and maybe you never will. 

You’re so dead tired you can barely drag your feet back to the staff’s living quarters. You wake Minerva— or, no, she is already occupied by her usual routine of restless pacing, tugging at her tartan dressing-gown. While she does interrogate you a bit crossly, you can tell she empathises with your ‘insomnia.’

After that you gulp down a contraceptive and stumble into bed, boneless and weary. You don’t cry at all, though you feel that you probably should.

In a way, you’re glad that Minerva doesn’t appear concerned or worried for you. That means she hasn’t found out. There was a persistent paranoia in the back of your mind that she had, that Minerva had seen or heard or sensed it somehow.

You wonder if she’d feel disgusted, or if she would simply pity you. Maybe that would be worse.

You flick your wand and flush out the light.

No. No one needs to know what you’ve done.

A month passes. The grip of winter releases its hold, and spring emerges in its wake, fresh and pure. It’s as if you can finally breathe again.

You hope that you do not imagine the way your student’s faces regain some semblance of warmth. You hope you do not imagine the unmarred bodies, mercifully free from wounds. You also hope that it is not their own schemes or plans that embolden them.

They should leave those matters to you.

Somehow, it feels like the nightmare is almost over. But not yet. Not yet. You still await your orders, and nurse lofty dreams of freedom in your heart.

When night falls, you strip off your underclothes and climb the spiral staircase once more. It is not excitement that tightens your chest, but it is also not dread. Perhaps something else you also do not understand, and cannot afford to think of now.

Headmaster Snape is standing by his desk. You realise he’s been waiting for you. He has that strange, mystifying look in his eyes again.

He offers you a hand.

“Come here,” he says.

[foxy-eva]

Keeping You Warm

Summary: Spencer and his girlfriend find the best way to warm up after enjoying the first snow in the backyard of their house

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) heavy kissing, teasing, nipple play, thigh grinding, oral (male receiving), unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

A couple of weeks ago after a long day of working on your computer at home, Spencer noticed you shivering slightly. He took your cold fingers in his hands and kissed each one of them to share his warmth with you. It took him thirty minutes to completely warm you up again with his body pressed against yours on the couch. 

After that he knew that it was finally time to turn up the heat in the house the two of you had moved in together last summer. You wanted to delay that for as long as possible, to keep the heating period short and do your fair share of saving the environment. But after the temperature dropped significantly and you started to get uncomfortable in your own home, you stopped protesting his decision. 

You still managed to convince him to keep the radiator in your bedroom turned off, making a very good point explaining to him how you would always prefer the heat his body provided anyway. 

That’s why Spencer knew that no matter how cold this winter would get, it was his job to keep you warm at night. When his body noticed the absence of your skin against his this morning, he didn’t even have to fully wake up to reach out his hand searching for you. All of his drowsiness suddenly left him when he didn’t find you on your side of the bed. 

It wasn’t like you to wake up before him on a Sunday which is why he hurried out of bed to run downstairs looking for you, his concern growing when you didn’t respond to him calling your name. His heart-rate only got down to a tolerable frequency when he spotted you through the glass door that connected your living room to the backyard. A bright smile spread across his face when he realized what you were doing. 

It had been snowing all night and every surface outside was covered in a thick white layer. You wore your warmest coat and half of your face was covered by a knitted scarf. Spencer found you standing in the backyard of the place you called home, building a ridiculously large snowman to surprise him. You only caught him staring at you when you heard him opening the door. 

“What are you doing? It’s not even 8am!“ he asked, already knowing the answer. 

You had just lifted the third and last ball of snow on top of two larger ones.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter when you snickered, “I wanted him to look like you!”

“I am pretty sure that I am not that curvy,“ he stated before going back inside and closing the door behind him. 

You stared at the glass door for a second, watching his outlines until he was out of sight. You knew Spencer wasn’t a fan of outside activities before having his morning coffee but you were still disappointed that he apparently didn’t like your surprise. You still tried to finish what you started as you gave the frozen sculpture a few touch-ups, evening out the surface with your hands. 

After a moment you heard the door opening again, followed by the cracking sound of footsteps on the powdery snow. Spencer had put on shoes and a coat to join you and examine your work. When he lifted his hand, you noticed him holding his favorite purple scarf. 

He wrapped it around the lower half of the snowman’s head, chuckling, “Now there is at least some resemblance to me.“ 

He pulled you into his arms, kissed your forehead and thanked you for the surprise. When you fully leaned against him, he started to stumble backwards, unable to find balance on the uneven surface of fresh snow. You broke out in laughter when the both of you clumsily fell over, the soft powder underneath your boyfriend’s backside cushioning the impact of your fall. 

Spencer joined you in your laughter before asking if you were okay. His arms were still wrapped around you as you lay on top of him in the snow. Leaning towards his face, you gently kissed his lips. One of his hands wandered from your back to your cheek, keeping you in place as he deepened your connection. He seemed to relish the sensation of having you this close, his eagerness making you smile into the kiss. 

It seemed like denying him your usual Sunday morning cuddles in bed made him desperate for your touch. When your tongue brushed over his, a content hum escaped his throat and you couldn’t hold back a desperate sigh. Your cheeks felt as if they were glowing, not from the cold winter air but from the heat that was spreading through your body. 

Shifting your legs so you were straddling him, your hips started to timidly grind against Spencer’s body. When his hands began to wander over your back in familiar patterns, you got annoyed about all the layers you were wearing. You wanted to be able to feel so much more of him, so you tossed your scarf to the side and reached between your bodies to unbutton your coat. Spencer immediately grabbed your hands to stop you. 

“What are you doing?“, he whispered as you felt his hot breath on your face. 

“I need to feel you, Spencer“, you whined, trying to get rid of the grip of his hands to continue your plan.

“I will not let you get undressed in this weather. Let’s go inside, I am freezing.“ 

He tried to sit up with you still on top of him. You protested and pushed him back onto the ground, leaving kisses along his cheek and his jawline until you found that one spot on his neck that always made him give into your advances. Caressing his sensitive skin with your mouth and tongue, you felt the vibrations of his throat against your lips when a moan finally left him. 

Moving closer to his ear you whispered, “Don’t you think that making love in the snow sounds really romantic?“ 

Your voice was hoarse, if from being aroused or staying in the cold for too long Spencer couldn’t tell. He moved his hands to your cheeks, shifting underneath you so you could look in each other’s eyes. 

“Yes it does sound romantic but frostbites do not and strenuous physical activities in low temperatures are actually a risk factor for getting those“, he told you. 

“I made it through countless freezing cold winters, I am immune to that“, you pointed out. 

“There is no such thing as being immune to getting frostbites. Besides, even if you were, I am not and I am sure you don’t want to put me at risk?“

He tried to sit up again and this time you let him, moving with him as you got up from the ground. 

“My Nevada Desert Boy. Not being able to stand a chance against me when it comes to winter activities only makes you so much more endearing to me“, you cooed right before pressing a chaste kiss on his mouth, feeling him smile against your lips at the new nickname you just gave him. 

WIth his fingers intertwined with yours you led him into the house, kicking off your shoes as you stepped over the threshold. Closing the door behind you, Spencer didn’t hesitate to help you shed the layers of clothing you wore. He couldn’t endure another minute of not being able to feel your skin against his. After spending the morning in the snow, you were also longing for the heat Spencer’s body usually provided. 

Not daring to separate your lips from his, you impatiently tugged on his clothes until the two of you were covered in nothing but your underwear. Still standing in the middle of your living room, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against him. He appreciated the gesture, deepening the kiss while his hands found their home on your back. 

His fingertips wandered over the sensitive skin along your spine, making you shiver in anticipation for more. A low moan escaped your throat, having Spencer immediately push his hips firmly against your lower belly. You could feel the outline of his hardening length through the fabric of his underwear, making you whimper against his lips some more. 

It took all of your willpower not to fall down to your knees to take him into your mouth and not to stop until you tasted his release on your tongue. However, you knew that your boyfriend disliked any feeling of hurriedness when it came to being intimate, so you decided to let him take the lead. 

Something you also knew about Spencer was that the more you allowed him to notice how desperate you were, the more pleasure he got from teasing you. But you never were as patient as him in these kinds of moments, squeezing your own thighs together to have at least the slightest amount of pressure where you were longing for his touch the most. You felt the lacy material of your panties getting damp as your own arousal started to gather at your entrance.

Spencer walked the both of you over to the couch where he gently pushed you down, never letting his mouth disconnect from yours. At this point you would have done anything for him, your body and mind compliant and obedient to his actions. He reached around your body to unclasp your bra and rid you of the fabric. 

That was when he stopped kissing you for the first time since entering the house. He was still standing beside the couch, leaning over you as his eyes roamed over your body. The amount of wonder he had in his look when you were bare in front of him never failed to amaze you, it was as if he hadn’t known every inch of your body for years now. You were studying his face, noticing a smirk when he glanced over your chest.

“Are you still cold?“, he purred, hinting at the hardened peaks of your breasts.

“Only one way to find out“, you whispered, wrapping your arms around his body to pull him down on top of you. 

Your skin was flushed and hot when Spencer positioned himself above you, making sure not to fully put his weight down on you. He didn’t mind that you weren’t actually cold, he wanted to share his heat with you anyway. Your hands found their way into his unruly curls, still damp from your activities in the snow earlier. 

He started to kiss your lips again before moving to your cheek until he put his hand on your jaw to tilt your head to the side. He took your earlobe between his teeth, caressing the soft skin with his tongue. You couldn’t hide how much he affected you, moaning out his name while tugging on his hair timidly. He kissed your neck, sucking on your skin, biting it and leaving marks on his path down your body. 

You felt his hot breath on you, noticing how it got heavier with every second passing, a telltale sign that it wouldn’t be long now until he would finally grant you the touches you so desperately anticipated. Taking one of your breasts in his hand, Spencer kneaded it softly while brushing his thumb over your hardened peak. The other one he took in his mouth, sucking and biting gently on it to elicit the sweet sounds of your undoing. 

Spencer started to feel intoxicated by your reactions, eager to guide you into the sensation of pure bliss. He continued caressing you, switching sides every now and then to give both of your breasts the same amount of attention. Those sensations sent waves of pleasure directly into your core and you couldn’t help but start to squirm underneath him. 

Pushing your hips against his body in hopes of finding some kind of friction, you could feel how hard he was. The thought of soon feeling him deep inside made you moan. Spencer began to wonder if he could manage to push you over the edge like that but when your hand in his hair started pulling with more force every second passing, he finally pitied you enough to give you some sort of relief.

He shifted his position, pushing one of his legs between yours to press his thigh against your waiting heat. You eagerly accepted his offer, rolling your hips and grinding against him to create the much needed friction. Spencer instantly noticed that the crotch of your panties was already soaked with your arousal. As you moved against his thigh, he could feel you leaving a wet spot on his skin. 

He focussed his attention back to your chest to continue what he was doing. Looking up at you, he noticed how you closed your eyes and pushed your head back into cushions. Your lips were parted to let out the beautiful sounds of your pleasure. When you quickened the pace of your hips rocking against his thigh, Spencer knew that you were close to your breaking point. 

He pushed his leg harder against you until you finally fell over the edge. The tension in your stomach was released as you came undone underneath him. When your body started to relax again, you felt Spencer leaving tender kissing on your breasts before he found his way back to your face to place his lips against yours. You reciprocated the kiss hesitantly as you were still trying to catch your breath after what just happened. 

He pulled back to lock eyes with you and grant you some air, whispering, “You okay?“

Instead of answering him, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving him away from you and following with your own body until both of you were in a sitting position. You slid off the couch onto the floor, kneeling in front of Spencer’s legs and noticing the glistening spot on his thigh where you had spread your essence while grinding against him. 

Looking up at him, a smile spread across your face as you appreciated every inch of him in sight. His strong legs, the little belly he had recently gotten, the trail of hair underneath his navel, his heaving chest and that beautiful face, staring down at you with adoration.

“See anything you like?“, he teased. 

“Yes, but not everything I need to see“, you answered while glancing over his underwear.

His erection was straining almost painfully against the confinement of the fabric. You hooked your fingers under the waistband, pulling the material down his legs to finally free him. Still kneeling on the floor, you positioned yourself between his legs, taking his hardness into your hand. You gave him a few strokes, your thumb gliding over his already leaking tip. 

Feeling your hot breath against his delicate skin made Spencer whimper in anticipation. You smiled and kissed the tip before licking along the underside of his hardness. Spencer leaned back into the couch, moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his shaft. When you closed your mouth around him, sinking down a few inches, he dared to look at you. 

He almost felt bad about how much he liked the sight of you down on your knees with his cock in your mouth, staring up at him doe-eyed. That enjoyment didn’t come from a desire to degrade you, no, it was quite the opposite. He glorified you with every fiber of his being, still struggling to believe that someone like you would want him. 

You moved your head up and down his length slowly, feeling your boyfriend tense beneath you. Before he could get too close to the edge, you stopped your actions, having Spencer whine in protest.

You got up from the floor, pulled down your panties and moved back onto the couch to straddle his lap. You put one hand on his shoulder and the other between your bodies to line his length up against your entrance. Locking eyes with him, you were looking for a sign of approval. When he smiled at you and kissed you, you finally sank down on him slowly. 

While you were still relishing the sensation of him stretching your walls, Spencer put his hands on your hips and began to help you move. Tentatively you rolled your hips until your body was used to the sensation of being filled out. With practiced movements you let him glide over the most sensitive part inside you until you felt the tension building up again. Spencer began to move with you, pushing up into you while his fingertips were buried into the soft flesh of your hips.

When you leaned back slightly to change the angle, one of his hands moved between your bodies to press his thumb against the bud of your core. With tight circles he helped you reach your climax, having you pant against his face as the sweetest moan fell from your lips. When he felt your walls clench around him, Spencer couldn’t hold back any longer. He found his own release as he halted his motions at your deepest point and shared his warmth with you. 

You fell limp against his chest and buried your face in the crook of his neck. Spencer wrapped his arms around you to hold you tightly and kiss your forehead. You were still trying to even out your breath when Spencer started to let his fingertips wander over your back. 

When he turned his head in the direction of your backyard, he noticed that it had started snowing again. Looking at the snowman you had built earlier made his heart swell. That frozen sculpture, although not resembling him at all, was a reminder of your love for him.

“Hey I was thinking… maybe we should get back outside and build that snowman a girlfriend“, Spencer suggested. 

The thought made you smile but you weren’t eager to leave the comfort of the heat your boyfriend’s body provided. 

He noticed your hesitancy and added, “I promise to warm you up again if you get cold.“ 

You agreed to his proposal then, already knowing that you certainly would be freezing when you were done, even if it was just pretend.

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[wayfayrr]

WE BOTH BE SIMPS FOR SKY ✨ THE PRECIOUS BEAN <33333 He has my entire heart, I love him smmm

But also now, got me sad for Sky cause poor baby deserves to get the experience of self expression through tattoos </3 which I think would work especially well in, say, self aware au, cause I would get to take him to get his first tattoo <33333 paid about $900-1K for all three sessions for my entire sleeve, I will gladly pay whatever for anything he wants done <333 especially if he wants a colored tattoo <3333

But also I’d love to know more of your thoughts on the whole Human vs Hylian thing, what are some key differences between hylians and humans that you haven’t had the opportunity to bring up yet? Doesn’t even have to be key differences, I’d just love to learn more on what your thoughts are <3

~🍀 anon

YEAHHHH SIMPS FOR THE BEST BOYYYY <333

I think sky would actually really want to get a tattoo after learning how they're pretty common for humans (he'd also want to either get one to match one of yours or a new matching set with you <3) but I think he'd want it to have an important meaning - his first one (only ones with self aware sky) has something to do with you, say your favourite flower or something that reminds him of you I also think he'd get something symbolic of crimson (also that price range for a sleeve sounds like a steal from the prices near me ong)

as for other headcanons about humans/hylians? One thing that I've been thinking about but haven't brought up is spice tolerances, and how Hylian spice tolerance is utterly abysmal compared to humans

remember this scene with the goron spice being used as a threat? I think that goron spice is about on par with a mild curry/chili powder.. Wild - They're using something that for most won't really register as spicy to punish the chain for the whole thing with the vai outfit.

Sky probably has a pretty low spice tolerance too but his is more because he's never had anything remotely spicy in his life, he could grow to have more of a tolerance whereas wild has had his body changed a lot by the sheika juice so I think certain tolerances of his got bumped up by a lot too - cal would want to eat it and struggle through but wild just eats it like no ones business In general I think that hylians just have a worse track record with anything you'd eat caffeine, poisons, alcohol, spice and even mint can make them struggle sometimes (Do NOT give wind an energy drink so help you)

I also think that hylians have a pretty weak immune system compared to humans, however it's also rarer for a hylian to get sick than it is for a human to cause of ✨magic✨ if any of the chain were to catch just the common cold from you or sky it will take them OUT, for humans the symptoms are just a runny nose, sore throat, cough and a fever for the hylians all of those things are dialled to one hundred - you get a sniffle? Time can't breathe. sky has a mild cough that he's trying to milk to get you to give him hugs? Warriors sounds like he's hacking up a lung and is that blood he just coughed up!!??

I also think hylians are unable to knowingly lie, like white lies are possible and if they fully believe what they're saying is true then they can. But an outright malicious lie or something like the turncoats? It isn't possible without dark and/or potent magic affecting them in some way. (or by having a human spirit instead of a hylian one >:3c) this also means that most hylians cannot use sarcasm, or at least not very well do with that what you will <3