#it's unfair and you know what it's downright rude

[oldwitchsleep]

ok no you know what i have sam reid's exact hair colour and length and basically style why does his look so good and mine simply does not

[hirukochan]

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle. 

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink. 

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour. 

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out. 

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war. 

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready. 

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie. 

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good. 

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend. 

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work. 

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint. 

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you. 

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.” 

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that. 

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean. 

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad. 

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it. 

You have always been Severus’ safespace. 

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting. 

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod. 

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings. 

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver. 

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely. 

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. 

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner... 

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips. 

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him. 

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you. 

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile. 

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you. 

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it. 

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans. 

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind. 

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long. 

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure. 

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder. 

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises. 

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow. 

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw. 

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you. 

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

[neetily]

Soft And Plush — (DOL) Whitney [VALENTINES EVENT]

— ✧ warnings: name calling (whore slut pet mutt pup puppy), Name-Calling, pillow humping (its a bear), pillow humping, Pet Play, Cigarette Smoking, Praise, non consensual photo taking, blowjob, I use the word fap because it’s sexy to me, Bullying, Degradation, Oral Fixation, Dacryphilia — ✧ word count: 5,435

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

rritation settles thick in his arms, most present in how they flex under rolled up sleeves, how his veins pop from the crossed over position he’s got them in at just the mere sight of his favourite slut. Where he’s still mostly dressed save for an unbutton shirt, he’s got you completely naked, barking orders at you to strip the moment he allowed you entry into his room.  So obedient , aren’t you? Even if a little shy, your attempts at coyness only make this game much more fun for him. Got him aching to knock you down a peg or two, remind you of who you belong to. So small compared to him too, yeah? Just a weak little pet, cowering at his feet like you  should be . He’s annoyed in part due to how you’ve completely ruined   his valentines plans for you today, and also from how downright  adorable  you look sitting on his floor with a new stuffed teddy hiding your pretty private parts out of sight, a reminder of his failure today. How unfair it is for you to have put him in this position, perched at the edge of his bed looking down at you as if he were holier than thou;  and right now he is.

“Fuckin’ slut, wanted the bear so bad, the fuck are you complaining for?” He scowls down at you with jealousy, unable to hide the impish smirk from spreading to his cheeks that your stupid sobs causes him to make. Really, it’s your own damn fault that you’re sitting naked in his bedroom right onw, shivering against the hardwood floor as his harsh tone threatens tears to well in your pretty doe eyes.  Good , he thinks to himself.  You’re pretty when you cry . It’s why he so often has you in these embarrassing positions, intimidating you to submit with his bullying tactics day in and day out. It’s because you’re so  cute , too adorable for your own good.  It’s your fault  he repeats to himself, some effort to justify his rude actions.

He tuts down at you when all you do is clutch the teddy tighter, keeping it pinned to your pretty body in an effort to remain hidden from his lecherous gaze, so he leans forward. You didn’t think you’d get to escape his torment for long, did you? His dominating presence causing you to quiver, a similar shiver of pleasure rolling down his spine as his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek in impatience.  You’re so cute it’s becoming a fucking issue,  obliviously provoking him into petting at the overt bulge in his pants like you were any form of innocent. Of course he knows you better than that, but even the faux purity you display before him has him acting up, pants tighter than ever just from looking at you.  Honestly , the things he wants to do to you are criminal. And all because you’re just  too cute,  shaking and shiver and panting against the soft fur of the oversized bear that you stole out of his hands at the store.

Or, well, stole is a gross exaggeration of what really happened. He knows he shouldn’t have left buying a valentines gift this late, and he should have known better than to go to the same store you frequent so often. Maybe this is God’s way of punishing him for being such a shitty boyfriend,  or , as he’d rather think; this is his reward for showing you a sliver of kindness. Even just recalling the moment his head lifted and he was greeted by your meek expression causes his eye to twitch, his lips curling in sheer displeasure for not only getting caught slacking; but also from having his gift  stolen . It’s a cute bear,  fuck , he wants it for himself—he even has the perfect spot in his collection for it!—yet there you stood attempting to buy  him  it. How annoying. How fucking aggravating it is to have you know him so well, a familiar heat rising to his cheeks that he so often endures when you’re around him; only he can’t tell if it’s from upset or affection. They feel all too similar to him, especially when his cock is concerned.

“It’s  my  gift, pet.” He reminds you oh so kindly, clicking his tongue for emphasis. And it’s true, he’d  allowed  you to buy the bear yourself since you clearly wanted to gift him with it. “So  I  get to decide what to do with it, right?”

“Um, yeah… I guess so…” You trail off stupidly, and all he wants to do in response is pin you where you sit due to an overwhelming urge to  remind you . Force you to accept who’s really in charge, to praise you for picking such a good gift for him, to punish you for ruining his valentines plans;  fuck — he’s so agitated. It’s embarrassing, really, just how much you affect him. How easy you’ve got it, dumb tone going straight to his perverted cock, causing it to pulse under his idle touch as he stares you down, biting down on his bottom lip to refrain from praising you too much; can’t let you know so easily just how badly he wants to fuck you stupid. But that’s what good pets get, right? He just has to work you up to it, see if you really deserve some more kindness.

But first, punishment. Can’t forget about the way you stole his thunder from right under him, no matter how hard his cock throbs for your pitiful excuses and pretty face. No good owner lets bad actions go unpunished, right? Hand tugging lightly at his pants, right over the obvious wet spot he’s sporting, he leans back to show exactly what you do to him, to  tease you  under the guise of offering more than punishment, cursing under his breath when your expression switches to one of awe. That dumb look you always adopt when it comes to him, he wants for nothing more than to wipe it off your face again and again, deriving great pleasure from putting you down. Perhaps a little too much if he’s honest with himself, but when you offer your compliance on a silver platter, what’s a guy to do? After all, he  is  just a man. A dirty, mean, perverted man.

“Right.” He confirms your earlier ‘guess’, offering you a much more gentle smile now as his hand reaches out toward you, suppressing the urge to laugh at how pathetic you look when tentatively placing your hand in his own like an unsure animal; he’s sure if you had a tail it’d be curled between your legs right now. And for good reason, “I wanna see you ride it.” He huffs, forcefully tugging you forward so that you fall tummy side down on the big bear, your ass sticking up in the air for him to immediately admire; cock twitching in response to the cute little  oof  you let out after falling down. That’s what you get for trusting him, he muses to himself. “You’re a good girl, right?” He coos down at you, tone faux sweet and  sickening , mismatching his sleazy lopsided grin knowing that he’s embarrassing you right now, tricked you into giving him exactly what he wants in spite of your endeavour to remain modest.  It’s what you get for being such a meddling whore .

He doesn’t exactly hear you agree, but that’s never stopped him before. A soft  mmph  is enough for him, cock pressing persistently against his underwear when he catches sight of the dip in your back, how despite your obvious humiliation he just  knows  your pretty pet cunt must be leaking all over the teddy bear by now, having endured his gaze and taunts until now. “Good girl,” he praises your acceptance, voice barely above a whisper to hide just how much he loves it when you give in to him, tapping his toes under your chin to prompt you into looking up at him pawing at his cock. “Wanna ride my gift? Bet it’d feel  soooo  good, perfect for puppies.” He sneers down at you, hiding his affection behind a low laugh until you slowly start to rock against the teddy, just like he’d asked. It’s a barely there movement, but he catches it nonetheless, glued to your ass while you focus on his face. Actively ignoring your whimpers of discomfort in favour of gawking, tugging at his cock more intently now that you’re playing into his palm. He didn’t think it’d be so easy to convince you to objectify yourself like this, but maybe all the dirty talk he whispered down your ear as he dragged you to his home was enough to set the mood. Talking about  you’re mine, my fucking girl, my little play slut, wanna have a playdate, pup?  He doesn’t really care about the specifics right now anyway, sucking his teeth to the sight of your hips shifting back and forth, the way your mouth hangs open  just a little , pink tongue peeking behind your teeth as you pant below him. Yeah, he’s got more important matters to attend to right now, like his raging hard on that stains his pants sheer, and how he wants to shove it against your cheeks.

So fucking cute, fuck — he wants to praise you some more, grab your stupid fucking face and press kisses all over it, tug at your hair so he has access to your neck, bite and suck on the soft skin there to properly mark his pup up. A permanent collar to signal ownership, keep all those other creeps off of you. But all he feels able to do is  swallow . Gulp down the admiration that rests behind at the tip of his tongue in favour of putting you in your rightful place: under his feet.

He tries to commit your dumb look to memory, cock twitching with want to be buried balls deep down your slutty throat already, especially given the way you so expertly showcase your mouth to him, his feet glued to either side of the teddy to better watch you hump yourself against it—and he’s got the perfect view too. Eyes trailing all the way from your pouty lips, past your arched back, to finally settle on the swell of your ass. “ Pretty… ” he accidentally whispers, instantly flushing at how soft his tone has gotten around you.

Habit begs him to light a cigarette for distraction, swiftly procuring one from his pocket with his free hand to mouth at lazily before lighting it and taking a deep inhale. Time and time again you prove to be difficult around for him; not because you’re inherently stressful or anything, but because his heart physically  aches  to be with you, even as your humping his valentines gift right in front of him under his instruction. An instinctive need to watch over you, to both protect and bully you from his position as your boyfriend. It’s annoying, honestly, how deeply he yearns for you. So much so that even as you’re doing everything his mean words ask for, he still craves more from his perfect little pet. It’s unfair of him to expect, he knows, but you can hardly blame him when you’re being so pliant and sweet for him. He hears you say  something  over his heavy breathing, but he’s much more interested in talking to your tits, rubbing his cock to the way they push up nicely against the plush teddy with the rest of your body as you seek his attention.

“Whitney…” You whine all pretty and shit, and  oh  how gratifying it is to hear you sound so needy for him, so desperate for his rough treatment over the soft fur under you. “This is… really embarrassing…”

He takes another inhale, a greedy one full of lust. “Duh, that’s the point.” He huffs after a second to exhale, puffing away at his cigarette far too quickly, ash dropping to the ground that he’ll have you clean up later. “Keep movin’.” He sniffs, impulsively throwing the cigarette to the ground to stamp on, far too hypnotised by the easy back and forth of your hips to fully enjoy the smoke filling his lungs, cock leaking far too much  not  to pull it out of his pants. Convinced by the muted  squelch  of your cunt every time your hips rise, he stands up briefly to tug his bottoms down just below his knees, swiftly sitting down again and immediately spreading his legs with a satisfied sigh. Feels good to finally be free, hard cock on full display for your pitiful whines, fat beads of precum already rolling down his length for his fist to collect.  Such a good girl, making him feel so good;  and you don’t even have to be touching him! He’d tell you but the words are choked in his throat when your speed increases, assumedly from his now exposed cock, his head tilting to the side when you crane your neck up further in an attempt to reach his wet tip, puffy lips just  begging  to be fucked raw—

“Uh-uh, get back down.” He reprimands you even as it pains him to do so, placing a foot on your shoulder to pin you back to the floor, laughing darkly when you squirm in place on the bear.  Dumb dog , he thinks to himself. “Pets aren’t allowed on the bed.”

“But  Whitney —“

His eyes roll automatically, fist casually pumping up and down his fat cock to the sight of you whinging so sweetly for him. And  God , he almost gives in.  Wants  to fuck your stupid mutt throat all sore, soothe it with a load in your tummy. There’s a flicker of greed in his core, fist tightening around his swollen cock for a moment before he sighs, deep and heady. The things you do to him; you’ve  got to know . “But  nothin’ ” he bites back, baring his teeth in a show of dominance, hips bucking into his closed fist when you immediately surrender by dropping your head—hidden praise. “Said I wanted to watch you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

At least that seems to shut you up for now, cock happy to watch you return to humping, sweaty palm gliding easily over his wet tip from how downright desperate you act for his cock, heart full of affection at the way you vie for his attention, his approval. To call what he’s experiencing  love  rests uncomfortably in his chest, instead focusing intently on the mess of your hair, pressing his thumb against his slit to coax more pre out. You have him so hard, cock throbbing in his quickly tightening grip as he jerks off to the sight of you,  just out of reach  of your cute face, teasing you with tell tale slick sounds and soon hushed gasps of enjoyment.

“ That’s it — fuck, good girl.” He half laughs in the space left between, gaze drawn to your open mouth and the way your tongue threatens to loll out.  Fuck , he hopes it does. Leaking all over himself at just the thought of your tongue, wishing that you’d drool all over the teddy bear you’re currently humping so that he can drag his tongue over it when he kicks you out tonight. “Feels good, right?” He asks, but it’s barely a question. He can hear how much you’re enjoying yourself, can  smell  how turned on you are from getting bullied. Honestly, he feels a bit dizzy with desire for you too. Struggling just as much as you seem to be right now, fisting his fat cock in time with your speedy humps;  punishment.  This is supposed to be punishment for you, and yet still he feels like he’s the one gasping for air when you moan so nicely for him, his muscles burning with insatiable thirst.

With every stroke his legs open wider too, pants dropping lower with his thrusts until they hit the floor and the resulting  thud  barely hides the obvious rhythmic wet slap of fist on cock. You just look so  good  like this, pressing your puffy little clit into the soft teddy bear, head tilted up to stare right between his legs, panting lewdly for his cock— it’s a bit too much even for him. An uncharacteristic stutter in his voice when he  tries to tell you off , but his words end up sounding more like a plead than anything else, which is wholly unacceptable, except for when he’s alone with you.

“Don’t… Uh,  fuck — don’t fucking look at me.” He warns you, squeezing at the base of his cock to hold off on cumming so he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of his pet. And to make sure you follow his instructions, he lifts a foot only to drop it on your head, forcing you to bury your face into the chest of the bear below you, immediately relaxing his expression as he leans into his fist now that his love is hidden from view. One hand supporting his weight behind, the other fucking himself stupid to the sight of your perfect ass pretending to be riding his cock— he knows you all too well. Instinctively, his hips start to follow after his fist faster, timing his thrusts into his closed palm with your humps forward, in turn simulating sex with you too. And  fuck it feels good , to be in complete control of your actions and still making you wait, pushing you closer to the edge as you start to shake with your frantic movements, the muffles sobs you sound against the bear only prompting his hips to fuck faster into the air, his bed squeaking under the weight of his greedy thrusts  all for you . Can’t let you see him get this hopeless for you, hiding his affections with choked gasps and muted sighs, refusing even with your face hidden to give you the satisfaction of knowing just how much he  needs you . How he wants even though he has you quite literally under his foot, wants you so bad even as his cock drools to the floor for your pretty little ass and the sweet sounds you make for him, a puddle forming under him thanks to you and your body.

It’s how he knows you’re so close, you know. The way you  tremble . He’s felt it enough times on his cock to pick up on it, a sinister smile making its way to his lips as he selfishly removes his foot from your head, though it quickly transitions into a fond scowl when you remain buried; it seems his training is finally paying off with you, working against him when he’d really rather see your cumming face. “Dumb pup— does that feel good on your puppy parts?” he encourages you, tone sugary and soft due to how much pride he feels swell in his chest when you do exactly as you’re told, awaiting his command to look at him again. Watching his pretty pet hump herself silly on  his gift , pumping away at his cock with sloppy strokes while he stares intensely at your nape; fingers itching to grab you by the scruff of the neck and shove his cock so far down your throat—

This is love, he suddenly thinks. Pretty puppy at his feet, getting yourself off for  his  enjoyment.  This , fist wrapped tight around his pulsing cock, jaw taut and hips bucking up off the bed for better friction, is love. The barely audible moans of his name falling from your pretty lips and the soft shuffle of your cunt against the bears fur is love. And maybe it’s time for him to admit on valentines day that he himself is very much in love with you.

Or maybe that’s just his cock talking for him, trembling in his death-grip hold, fisting only his tip to stave off your reward as you surprisingly sit up despite his previous private praise, hands firmly planted on the bears face to support your weight; but most importantly, your hips don’t stop. No, all you do is offer him a best seat in the house view of your bouncing tits while you ride the bear, prompting him to suck in some air as his eyes narrow in on your nipples, throat suddenly dry as he pines to mouth at them. He can reprimand you properly for acting out later. “Filthy  bitch .” He scolds you for now, but it’s a halfhearted attempt at best, teeth bearing to accentuate his adoration filled threat. “Just a dumb bitch in heat, yeah? Need cock so bad, huh?” He taunts you, but it’s all bark and no bite. Really, he’s just admitting to what  he  wants you to want, hoping that you’ll give in to his lust fuelled upset with broken sobs and eager nods.

Which of course you do, because he’s a good owner that’s trained his perfect pet well. A coo escapes him when you frantically nod up at him, doggy tongue sticking out while you pant for more. And he’s more than happy to give you just that, now that you’ve endured partial punishment; he’s just as much a desperate dog as you are right now. Only difference is, he has the (swiftly declining) composure to keep his true intentions hidden enough— and you’re just a  dumb dog . If you want his cock so bad, he’ll give it to you. After such a good performance too, it only makes sense to reward your good behaviour with some cock; that and it’ll replace the gift you stole from him and are currently grinding into the ground like a good girl.

God you’re so cute like this, holding yourself up while circling your hips, stroking that pretty little clit hard against the big round heart the bear is holding. He bets it’s  soaked  with your slick, his throat closing at the mere thought of sucking it all up later tonight. His lips part in awe, infatuated at the sight of you so desperate for release, keening loudly with a repeat of his name, rocking yourself  forward  with every thrust because of how much you need him. “You’re so fuckin’ hot.” Slips out of his open lips, though he does little to correct himself. Instead, he leans into the soft nature of his words and finds his phone, immediately opening the camera to snap a few pictures of you in your time of great need.  Jerk off material for later , his friends can fuck off if they think he’ll send them such prime material. Only he gets to see you this sloppy and messy, so fraught with need for more and all for him. He doubts you even realise he’s captured your degeneracy with photographic evidence given how you paw at his knees anyway, head hung low as you hold on for some sense of stability; of which he cruelly takes away from you the moment he realises what you’re doing.

“Tryin’ t’climb on top?” He questions, but his voice is breathy and gives away just how much he needs you to do exactly that. “ C’mon , you should know better than—  fuck— ” your hand brushes his cock, right over his slick with precum tip, a string of shine keeping your palm connected to him even when he forcefully retracts your hand. He immediately wants to lick it when he spots it, clean his pretty puppy up and treat her well. But the pit in his stomach demands otherwise, tapping on your shoulder to grab your attention and tugging you as close as possible between his legs.

Prime blowjob position.

“Should know better than that, slut…” Able to finish his previous sentence, he takes a rough fistful of your hair now that you’re prone and yanks it back, cock twitching to attention when you yelp in surprise. Always so pretty for him, so eager to have his mean hands bully your body, he doesn’t miss the way your thighs squeeze around the bears heart with his unfair grip. Your constant stream of  pleaseplease Whtiney please!  causes him to release an egregious moan of his own, pulling your head further back as payment for coaxing such a needy sound out of him.

He’s not all mean though. Ever the gentleman, he thrusts his cock against your face, smearing precum all over your blushing cheeks and tapping the leaking tip on your lips.  God  he could cum just like this, tugging at his cock once or twice against your lips before you automatically open, like you understand what you’re made for, that you belong to him.  So cute , so completely and utterly disgusting that you already know what he wants before he even asks for it. The perfect valentine.

He makes tutting sounds at you with a wide grin, doting on you from above until your tongue makes contact with his tip and it’s all over for him. Grin wiped and replaced by a frown, brows furrowed in concentration to fully feel the way your slippery tongue sucks all the precum off his tip, how your lips tighten and glide up and down his cock  just a little , his hand still buried deep in your hair to control the pace. Still,  good girl  and  so pretty  continues to drip from his tongue, drool pooling in his mouth when he’s unable to look away from where your lips kiss his tip, how you worship his cock in an effort to gain his affections.

"Want me to pound that pretty throat?" He questions, but it’s rhetorical. Of course you do, right? Why else would you be inviting him inside so eagerly.

But he’s not so kind as to give you exactly what you want, no! He never has been, has he? Instead of fucking your throat like he wants to, he merely keeps your head pinned in place, tip and then some engulfed by your warm mouth for you to suckle on, to have a small taste and no more. And to make matters worse for you, he starts fisting his cock again. Warming his tip while jacking off into your mouth, not even allowing you the pleasure of getting him off yourself. The cruelty of his actions causes you to whine and vibrate down his length, proving only to turn him on further as his grip tightens in your hair. A warning of sorts, to shut up and take what he’s giving you because it’s better than the alternative of nothing at all. He knows he’s being a bastard,  fuck , but it feels too good to stop; pumping his length with precision into your greedy little maw, feeling your tongue squirm and beg to be used, attempting to convince his hips to buck and fuck your face, but it feels  too fucking good to stop bullying you .

It’s your fault for being so cute, he reminds himself.  Your fucking fault, slut , he wants to lecture you with, but every suck and lick you offer him leaves him breathless. Staring down at your watery eyes with a mimicked pout of his own, which would have be paired with mockery over how slutty you’re being right now, but the way his balls grow tight and taut otherwise distracts him, leaves him gasping for air due to your kitten licks against his tip, rendering him only to moan roughly and roll his eyes back in sheer satisfaction over your resentment. “Keep—  ah, shit — keep movin’, mutt.” He reminds you through clenched teeth, lightly kicking your cunt as a reminder to get yourself off too; he’s not mean enough to leave you without feeling good too.

Or rather, he’s more selfish than you might think. Wanting only for you to cum too so that  he  can enjoy his orgasm more, knowing that even after all his mistreatment of you, you still require him to make you feel good. And after squeezing his eyes shut briefly to focus on anything other than cumming on your soft kitten tongue, he opens them to see you humping feverishly, as if you didn’t know how to do anything else in that moment. Upset immediately fills his chest, though he’s not sure why. Something about feeling so frustrated over how much he feels for you, how strongly he wants for you. But he’s not of the right head-space to properly think about it right now, too busy fucking his fist to have an honest discussion with himself. Whatever, you’re fucking hot and that’s all that matters,  fuck , he’s so close.  Needs  you to cum too, an act of reassurance, of security. If you cum then surely he’s doing something right, treating you the way you want to be treated, right? “That’s it,” he motivates you through moans, grunting into the harsh way he fists his cock, a stark contrast to how politely your tongue wraps around his cock head. Precum beads onto it, surely dipping down your throat from how you ‘ sneakily ’ bob your head with some humping movements, but he’s concerned enough to correct you. Not when you have him feeling so fucking good, fapping furiously against your lips because you offer him no other alternative.

An urgent  mmph!  is sent down his cock when he tugs on your hair again, followed by a string of  something , he can’t fucking hear you with a fat cock stuffing your mouth full, but he can probably guess what you’re moaning.

“Yeah?  Fuck , babe…” He trails off, holding your chin to drag it open in a selfish need to hear you whine properly for him as you cum on the teddy bear, and also because he wants to watch his cum splatter your tongue possessively. It’s when you’re at your cutest, he thinks, waiting for his seed. Fisting his cock obsessively for you as his orgasm quickly follows suit and washes over him, wrist refusing to let up even as he’s shooting a fat load down your throat, catching you by surprise as you’re clearly not done grinding yourself to completion yet either. Not that he cares,  fuck , eyes involuntarily shut tight as he shoves his cock as deep as possible down your throat despite his previous wants, he simply can’t stop himself; and you can't blame him either, cause that whore mouth of yours is too good at taking cock to stop and think for even just a second. Forcing him to act out of pure instinct as he humps your face roughly. Buried as deep as possible down your throat, balls resting against your chin with a soft  plap! b ecause his hips keep fucking forward through his orgasm until your tongue fully milks him empty—and even then he keeps fucking, shoving his cock just a little further down your throat, smiling to himself as you start to choke around him, pulling out only to watch you swallow.

You know exactly how he likes it too, and it’s infuriating. Soft and pliable, submissive under his foot, watching as you gulp a few times before opening your mouth wide for inspection just like he’d taught you, his fingers pressing gently on your tongue to flatten it before hooking your cheek. A lazy  thanks  escapes him as he collects his breath, bending over to reach your lips with a soft kiss as soon as he’s able to. It’s not often he feels this soft after sex, but he likes to indulge you every now and again; and Valentines day seems perfect for it. He lets his tongue poke out against yours, mingling with your own for only a brief moment to get a taste of himself before sighing down your throat and pulling away, resting back on his hands as clarity hits him after such an intense good feeling.

He regards you for a second or two more, noticing just how fucked out you look. Really has his heart thumping, y’know? Which is why he promptly looks away. Maybe the best gift you could have given him was stealing his gift, especially if it means he gets to see you all roughed up with tear stained cheeks like this, yet  still  you beam up at him so sweetly, as if his bullying made you the happiest girl in the world.

Gross . Not that he’s any better, his heart skipping a beat as he realises with upset just how much he really likes having you around, and how he doesn’t want anyone else to be around you. That can only mean one thing, right?

[redwiccanrobin]

The problem with Trevor

Throughout my life I’ve been a fan of many different properties. And, as I’m a fan of them, I try my best to reach out and make some connections with people who share that interest. Along the way, I’ve come across many bad takes for many different things. Shameless (US) is one of those fandoms that have an assortment of bad takes in its space. For the most part, I’ve been able to address things and then move on. But, there’s been one take that has plagued me and driven me up the wall.

“People hate Trevor because he’s not toxic.”

This was something that was said to me to justify why some in the Shameless fandom didn’t vibe with Trevor. Not only do I find this an odd stance to take, it’s also just not correct. And I want to break down what is wrong with this statement.

But first, let me address something. Some of the hate towards Trevor is unwarranted. Some of the hate towards Trevor is unfair. And some of it is straight up transphobic. Those reasons are wrong, invalid, and will not be present in this analysis of mine and if I see it happening, I will block you. With that being said, I will go on to explain the valid reasons why I, and many others, do not enjoy Trevor as a character.

At first, I was inclined to like Trevor. He seemed nice enough (if a bit bland), gave representation to queer trans men (of which they have few), and he introduced Ian to the queer world. Why wouldn’t I like that? But, slowly, he started to bother me in many different ways. There was a pretentious element to him, an arrogance and rudeness that he showed in reference to Ian. There was a demand that Ian understand every facet of him but, in the same breath, refused to extend that back.

I tried to ignore these feelings out of guilt. I didn’t want to hate the trans character who was helping Ian to know his community. Then one scene struck me, made me angry. Monica had come back to town and Ian was uncomfortable and upset by her presence. He tried to voice these emotions to Trevor but, as I said, Trevor never tried to understand Ian’s feelings. He brushes Ian’s feelings aside and tells him he needs to get over it. Ian leaves with anger filling his veins. And never once did Trevor apologize for overstepping his bounds. Now, I will admit, the scene was a bit messy and Ian didn’t look very good himself. But that was my first true bitter taste for Trevor forming.

Still, I was determined to like him. That was, until I watched season 8.

Season 8 is a bit of a polarizing topic within the Shameless fandom. Some appreciate the decision to show the character’s less than desirable attributes unashamedly. Others feel it’s a bit too mean spirited. Whatever side of the fence you stand on though, a lot of people seem to agree that this is the season where it was abundantly clear how little Trevor cares about Ian’s wellbeing.

Throughout the season, it was abundantly clear that Ian was going through a manic episode. Ian becomes obsessive, angry, aggressive, downright cruel at some points. He is sinking and we are watching as everyone else turns a blind eye to his increasingly erratic behavior. Including Trevor.

Trevor, who has dedicated his life to those in trouble, offers no help to Ian in what is clearly a mental health crisis. In fact, for the majority of the season, Trevor sits back with a smirk on his face as Ian fights for his cause. He allows Ian to sink into his obsession, anger, aggression because it ultimately benefits him and what he cares for. Ian is walking closer and closer to the edge and those around him are choosing to not step in, not offer help. Instead, they wrinkle their noses in disgust and get angry at Ian for being in the way of their goals. And ultimately that is what happens with Trevor.

Slowly, Trevor begins to realize that Ian’s actions and behaviors are no longer reflecting well on his cause. There is also the ego bruise that Ian is now no longer focused on Trevor anymore which he voices to Fiona. He offers some hollow words about how he hopes that Ian is taking care of himself (ie; taking his medication). But I say hollow because when Ian finally breaks down and seeks out Trevor out of fear and exhaustion, Trevor offers him no help. He just rolls his eyes at Ian and accuses him of loving the growing attention (and hostility associated with that attention). He calls him selfish and then he walks away, leaving Ian feeling even more lost and tired. Ian was calling out for help in that scene and was instead scolded like he was a spoiled child throwing a fit at the supermarket. Shortly after this, Ian sets fire to a van and gets arrested. Trevor is never seen again.

I wanted to like Trevor. I wanted to be on Trevor’s side. I wanted to root for his relationship with him. I felt guilty whenever I cringed away from him. I felt like a hypocrite that his actions were affecting me in such a strong and visceral way when I can forgive other characters for the same. It took me months to finally admit to myself that I didn’t like Trevor. And I was truly heartbroken when I came to that conclusion.

The problem with Trevor is not that he is trans. The problem with Trevor is not that he’s not Mickey. The problem is that he was meant to be the solution. He was meant to be the better choice for Ian as opposed to Mickey. The Shameless writers did everything in their power to convince us that Trevor was kind, thoughtful, mature, and loved Ian. But more often than not he was shown to be petty, bitter, self righteous, and condescending beyond words. In the writers efforts to create a character that is supposed to be the definition of good they instead shone a light on his bad characteristics. For every act of kindness we would see him partake in there was him putting pressure on Ian to get into a relationship. There was the dismissal of Ian’s trauma and abuse. There was the lack of empathy when Ian was going through grief. There was the use of fat men to boost his ego. There was the benefiting from Ian’s declining mental health. And those things became harder to ignore when the writers seemed to be deep in denial about the cruelty they put in him. So, no. People don’t hate Trevor because he’s “not toxic.” People hate him because he’s not a good fit for Ian.

[elysiaishere]

Genshin Thoughts/Theories No One Asked For, (Spoilers) —Relationship Edition Part 1

At this point, this should be a series because I'm lost in the Genshin sauce, and it doesn't seem like I'm coming out of it anytime soon.

So, here are some mostly inane thoughts I've had about various relationships in the canon:

1. Nahida and Wanderer

Nahida and Wanderer have a beautiful friendship.

On the surface, a friendship between them seems unlikely. He's arrogant, rude and at times, downright cruel. Nahida, on the other hand, is a warm and forgiving spirit. But, if we consider their past experiences, we are able to build a clearer picture of how Nahida and Wanderer are able to not only get along but complement each other as well. Both endured long periods of isolation and loneliness, and from what the canon has shown us, these periods have largely shaped who they are today.

For all that she's the God of Wisdom, Nahida is young and inexperienced. Her imprisonment prevented her from forming authentic, meaningful bonds with her people, and, as such, it suffocated her own self-confidence and ability to connect with others. Even now, she doubts herself.

In contrast, Wanderer is an experienced combatant and seasoned leader. His time as a Fatui Harbinger, no doubt, taught him how to coordinate people and communicate his expectations—even if his expectations were otherwise cruel and unfair.

These differences, however, are key to why their dynamic works so well. Nahida is able to build him a safe space to explore his own humanity without judgment. On the other hand, Wanderer is able to both protect Nahida from physical threats and model self-confidence in a way she can easily emulate.

It's unorthodox, sure, but their friendship showcases a phenomenal example of how, sometimes, we find the most fulfilling and meaningful relationships in the strangest of places. Truly, I hope to see more of them in the future. I'm always delighted by their rapport. She obviously enjoys teasing him, and despite his enormous pride, he allows it.

2. Furina and Neuvillette

In an earlier post, I briefly touched on the speculations I have about who Furina/Focalors is to Neuvillette and vice-versa. In this post, I intend to dissect what information—or lack thereof—is available to us. After all, as the Hydro Archon and Hydro Dragon, respectively, their destinies have no doubt always been intertwined.

In Neuvillette's character teaser, "Watcher in the Deep," Neuvillette admits that he longs to find the answers to the many questions he has regarding his identity. He has no leads, no starting lines, and even states: "It's as if I've forgotten something since the very beginning."

Then, some seconds later and out of frame, we hear Furina:

"So, why don't you find the answers for yourself?"

Her voice is soft, encouraging, and a stark contrast from the shrill, theatrical young woman we've come to know throughout the 4.0 and 4.1 Archon Quests. This suggests that, at one point in time, Furina and Neuvillette were once close.

In comparison, their interactions we've seen thus far are a pale shade of that. He often seems exasperated by her antics while she expects him to yield to her whims, no matter how unreasonable those whims might be.

I liken it to a relationship between a spoilt little sister and an exhausted older brother. Entertaining, fun, and downright hilarious.

Jokes aside, I don't think he's indifferent to Furina. In fact, we're shown on a handful of occasions the exact opposite. Just before the iconic Primordial Seas cutscene, he tells the Traveler he's reluctant to leave Furina alone with Arlecchino and, as such, asks the Traveler to watch over her throughout the meeting. Then, in the aftermath, while the Traveler and Neuvillette are talking outside the Opera Epiclese, the scene focuses on Neuvillette watching Furina sneak away. The Traveler is none the wiser, but based on how he tunes out Paimon and watches her leave, we can deduce that he's worried about how out of character Furina seems.

I'd also like to highlight that this is the first time we've seen Neuvillette call her simply "Furina" instead of "Lady Furina." I think this is quite indicative of a more nuanced relationship than what has been observed so far.

As for Furina, I find her to be a living, breathing dichotomy. Initially, she appears spoilt and immature. A young woman who feels insecure, so she overcompensates with glamour and entertainment. But, if we gleaned nothing else from her meeting with Arlecchino, it's clear that she does, in fact, take her status as the Hydro Archon very seriously. She cares about Fontaine and its people.

Moreover, Furina, I think, carries a lot of care for Neuvillette as well. She seems comfortable in his presence, so much so that she doesn't feel the need to perform for him. Or, at the very least, Furina doesn't feel the need to perform him much. She seems to feel much safer and settled during her initial meeting with Arlecchino than she is in the second. Implying, to some degree, that Furina trusts him to look out for her if a situation turns south.

With that said, I think something strange has occurred that's led to the formation of their current dynamic. Perhaps the "curse" Arlecchino mentioned. And whatever has occurred, curse or not, it has totally reshaped their relationship. However, I simply can't deduce what.

[blow-me-a-kis]

Piracy in ofmd is actually already a culture departed from cis het neurotypical society and Izzy is actually a representation of that. I think if ppl would stop treating Stede like he's injecting neurodiversity and queerness into piracy, and instead as the beneficiary of that society, they could see it, too.

I just feel like ppl who don't perceive Izzy as autistic don't really have close friendships with a lot of autistic or neurodiverse ppl IRL. That or they are still doing a lot of masking in relationships and expecting others to masks. But some of us can't.

Most ppl who interact with me IRL probably think I'm mean or rude or even stupid. I'm partially non verbal, I can't smile at strangers/on command, I can't laugh at jokes I don't find funny, I get snippy and irritable if I'm overstimulated. If you ask me how I'm doing, know that me asking you back is like pushing a boulder up a hill for me.

When I do speak it may come out slowly or come off as crytic/weird/inappropriate, and also I may say it too loud or too quiet or too late or with an inappropriate inflection or with a facial expression that doesn't match. My most embarrassing trait is that I get shouty when I'm having a meltdown and I cant help it.

On top of all that I'm Black, so ppl read me as aggressive/negative no matter how I present

I also have autistic and neurodiverse friends who are very similar to me. I have friends who are downright grating in personality, real Izzy's, who I take comfort in because I know its okay if they find me grating. They don't care if I take a long time to respond or don't respond at all when asked a question, they don't mind if I get snippy or they'll tell me directly if I hurt their feelings instead of holding it against me.

I am actually at a point in my life where I am reevaluating friendships where masking has been a requirement, where I feel the need to perform to be liked. I just want to be allowed to be boring or in a bad mood or tired or slow and inflexible, or a Bitch, because I am, and being Pleasant is just not accessible to me. I'll be 33 this year, and I'm exhausted of trying to be anything but myself.

Even the ways a lot of folks like Stede leave out his less palatable autistic traits. Like the fact that almost everyone who meets him in canon does not like him and he has to grow on most ppl. He's hard headed, annoying, presumptuous, obnoxious. This is apart of his autism as well, and why piracy suits him, FREES him.

Izzy is right at home as a pirate because of these very things also. He doesn't have to mask as a neurodiverse person or as a queer man.

I think it's safe to say a lot of ppl's classist views on piracy are reflected in their negative/unfair views of Izzy. The idea that pirates should be softer or nicer or more pleasant or even that a failure to take on these values is Toxic Masculinity (taking this phrase from fandom and putting it on a high shelf until you learn that upperclass white cis het neurotypical masculinity is not the norm and white women learn to question their motivation in normalizing the idea of systemic harm they can't participate in) neglects what Oluwande spoke about in episode one, that piracy is a culture built by people who did not have a choice to do anything but survive.

I hope in s2 we will see Stede get a taste of what that struggle is really like and abandon his classist, romantic notions of piracy.

[viridescent-lance]

for the honor of the planning committee (ethereal ball open)

[ Make a Request ] - to your overseers to provide you with your favorite snacks and directions to the nearest bathroom put into place some of the careful plans that Garreg Mach employees spent weeks preparing!

Forsyth paces back and forth, shaking his head. The unique invitations! The handmade decorations! The trade routes they'd secured to ensure the delivery of various goods on time, and the layouts they'd painstakingly optimized for both ballside fun and ease of teardown...all for naught, right now.

He had taken great pride in his role on the planning committee, and these "elementals" had not merely wrought havoc and shrank the entire monastery population, but hijacked the Ethereal Ball itself! They hadn't even considered consulting the committee, and Forsyth's patron, the "Water" elemental, just isn't listening.

"At the very least, could we utilize the photography booth? We spent a fair amount of time, energy, and resources to have it present!" Forsyth did not expect to spend his night (the first of what may be an extended stay in these beings' dollhouse) arguing with a being composed of aquatic energy, but here he stands, speaking up into the sky to a voice he knows is listening. "You could shrink it and integrate it quite nicely near the dressing room in the main hall; there is a fairly unused room there that could be perfect!"

"I do not understand...we did everything we could for these mortals to have the time of their lives. We even took the pressure off you! The rodents care for the chores, while you can have fun! There is no need to worry, little one. Would you like some more sweets?"

A cookie manifests into Forsyth's hand, yet again. Brown sugar and chocolate chip, a favorite of his. He bites into it, chewing with frustration as he fixes the sky with a glare that says he will not be bribed, but he also will not waste food.

"It feels as if you are not understanding what I mean, with all due respect." Forsyth swipes crumbs from his lip; he may seem ridiculous, but at the very least Water has been listening to his grievances, even if they don't seem to quite recognize him as anything other than a particularly intelligent pet. He's made progress. Probably. "I'm not saying you did a poor job, far from it, but it is downright rude to take possession of this night without a care for those who planned it!"

"Hmmm...well, if you say it thus. Perhaps I can consult with my siblings about incorporating this 'photographic' device you so desire, if you need it so much."

Oh? A glimmer of understanding, perhaps? Forsyth nods. He is used to having to negotiate; a deft combination of politeness and directness is vital in such situations.

Clive is usually the one who takes the lead, as Forsyth has been told that while he means well, his vigor can come across poorly in ways he did not intend. He has improved greatly in the last few years, but he knows it is a place he has much to grow in. But tonight, he is seeing those efforts come to fruition! ...maybe.

"Oh! It would be unfair not to ask your companions their opinions. I want only the best for you!" Water peers back once again, their glowing eyes fixated on a spot behind Forsyth. ...has someone else been privy to this exchange? Forsyth's bravado falters; has he truly handled this to the best of his ability? There were word choices and shortness of temper on his behalf that could have easily sabotaged this exchange, now that he thinks of it. "Come now, little one. What would you have us do to improve this experience?"

Another cookie, frosted this time, finds its way into Forsyth's grasp. Water seems to have noticed his distress. He scarfs it down quickly, shaking his head to let it be known that he does not condone their actions.

[rae-napier64]

Hello! I need medication for life to prevent my lungs from collapsing, this implies permanent treatment with steroids, oxygen therapy, control of oxygen in the blood and antibiotics to prevent the development of bacteria in the lungs.

I'm afraid I have to insist on this because it may be the only way to get my treatment.

I need medication for life to keep my lungs from collapsing, this costs around $700 per month.

Things are really tough on me,I can’t afford. Please donate🖤

This is like the third time I’ve had an ask like this, so instead of ignoring or deleting it I’ll turn it into a teaching moment.

Before I do that: don’t harrass the person behind this ask! They’re simply reaching out asking for help, that’s a good thing!!!

Anyway, ladies, gents. Those as yet unknown, don’t send asks E-begging, especially not to Strangers. I understand that your struggling and I wish more than anything that this didn’t need to happen, unfortunately we live in a hellscape and people are struggling to make ends meet as is, and all of a sudden tumblr has become the E-begging capital of the internet.

If I had the resources and time to donate to all of the posts and asks and continuous reblog chains then I truly would, however I’m living paycheck to paycheck, I have no money, I’m barely making rent and feeding myself, i don’t want or need twenty thousand asks a month making me feel like shit just because I’m unable to help those in need trust me I feel bad enough.

It’s unfair, and downright rude to expect others to answer kindly or give money to a complete and total stranger who has popped up out of nowhere to beg for money, attention or whatever else is being asked for.

And all that is providing it’s real people and not bots or scam artists targeting those that are vulnerable tumblr is full of teenagers who want to make life better and who have strong opinions and believe that doing good recklessly is the best way to live. These teens aren’t wrong, but the people taking advantage are and this whole situation reeks of scammers asking for “a couple quid til payday” or “oh I’ll pay you back when I get the money” it’s bullshit!

Tldr: it’s not your job as a tumblr user to give to any cause that you’re not a part of, you don’t know these people or what they’re using the funds for. Survive, offer what you can, don’t let them guilt trip you into a scam.

Oh yeah, and stop E-begging in randoms asks/Dm’s its disgusting

Edit: apparently I’m a shitty person for being poor??? https://www.tumblr.com/rae-napier64/744524954363740160/oh-wow-just-actually-went-to-your-blog-home-and

[thenexusofsouls]

As Strange asked about Thor, Mantis' smile faded into a saddened expression. "He can take care of himself, it's just... He was hurting emotionally. I mean, he lost everyone he loved. I hope he's doing better, wherever he is." She sipped more tea, listening to Strange's words, and frowned slightly. "I'm not from around here either." She gently put the cup down and wrung her hands. "I want to help Brumbin. If you could let me use my powers, perhaps he would behave as you figure things out?"

"Yeah..." Stephen muttered, his eyes falling nervously. He totally understood where Thor was coming from. "That's about... where I'm at myself..." he mumbled. "Well if you think there's anything I could do to help him, I'd be willing to try. There are great therapy services at Kamar-Taj, if he ever wanted to avail himself of them. Plus, you know, the whole tranquil, scenic, nature-oriented atmosphere there does wonders for depression and burnout. I speak from experience. I tend to feel isolated when I'm there, but in a good way. Isolated from all the bad things like noise, deadlines, city stress... but not from the good things like people and nature and... really good tea," he said, gesturing towards Mantis' teacup.

He wondered why she cared so much. Brumbin was one creature in a universe of almost infinite numbers in the multiverse. And he'd probably be going back home as soon as Stephen figured out how to get him there. So... what was the problem? It was clearly bothering her, though, and it was no skin off Stephen's teeth to let her try and help the angry creature. "Sure, why not. If it would make you feel better to try, go right ahead."

Turning away from the table with the tea, he moved his hand on a circle, opening a portal to the cells down below. He waved Mantis through and took her to Brumbin's cell.

The large, muscular, furry, multi-armed creature was beating on the clear boundaries of his cell in a rage. Upon seeing Stephen, he let loose with a fiery slew of derogatory comments in his native language.

Among the set of spells Stephen usually kept on himself for utilitarian purposes, one of the most useful was his ability to understand any spoken language. "Now that's unfair. And downright rude, if you ask me," he said to Brumbin, who continued to angrily argue back. "Well, here, I brought a friend who wants to help."

Brumbin now turned his attention to Mantis, no longer throwing a fit, although his nostrils were still flaring in frustration...

[prettyboisteveharrington]

Jealous? Who? Me?

Summary: Loki has some very conflicting feelings towards you.

Dedicated to my good pal @karuna11 for always being a good friend ✨

Loki wasn’t jealous of a mortal? Or at least that’s what he kept telling him whenever you were around.

Loki remembered when he had first joined the team, it had been on probation and with a promise that Thor would keep his eye out for him

As if he needed babysitting

He remembered seeing you for the first time since he joined the compound he had avoided everyone for weeks - you were in the middle of a conversation with Thor, Bruce and Natasha you were laughing and glowing like an actual ray sunshine. Everyone seemed drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Loki hadn’t bothered introducing himself. He remembered how he rolled his eyes and went on his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

He remembered how he had felt a pang if something in his chest. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Loki was in the middle of reading his favourite book on the couch and he was just about to get to the good part when

‘THOR’ You exclaimed excitedly when you ran into the room and towards Thor

‘Y/N’ Thor exclaimed just as loudly as you had which made Loki roll his eyes at both of you.

What a bunch of oafs Loki thought

Loki ignored the conversation as much as he could. But he couldn’t help but watch you. You were bouncing up and down the whole time you were talking to Thor and Thor was grinning like an oaf.

You were putting your hair behind your ear and smiling from ear to ear and touching Thor’s elbow affectionately.

This went on for ages. You were ranting and bouncing happily next to Thor who downright seemed like he adored you. It frankly made Loki feel sick.

You were acting quite playful with him too. It was all way too intimate for Loki’s liking.

Loki eventually got up and left the room and No one paid Him any attention.

Getting people to smile seemed like something that came so fucking easily to you. The more Loki watched you the more annoyed he became.

Loki had trouble playing placing the feeling he felt when he Saw you. Hatred was too strong a word. Loathing wasn’t the right Word either.

Annoyance perharps?

The Avengers were out in the club dancing and you were moving your body on the Dance floor, dancing with everyone except Loki. Loki was here against his will just sitting in the corner watching his team members dancing. Thor had already asked Him to join the others on the Dance floor.

Loki watched as everyone gathered around you naturally and took turns dancing with you. The Way everyones eyes lit up as they were dancing next to you. How easily you Got Them to smile and laugh.

You moved so freely as if you had no troubles or traumas like nothing evil could get you.

Everyone just loved you. It made Loki sick. Just How easy it was for you and How likeable you were and you didn’t even have to try, it just came naturally to you.

Loki was glaring daggers at you. Pesky little mortal

Loki Bet that he could easily beat you in any battle. A mortal like you wouldn’t last a minute in an actual battle with your weak little frame.

Why was it so goddam easy for you to just be charming and yourself? Why were people always drawn to you? What made you so goddamn special?

Loki knew that he was being irrational, unkind and unfair but he couldn’t help it. He could charm people sure, he had done so many many times but people ran from him and not towards him. There was no pull not like there was with you.

‘You know brother , it’s considered rather rude to Stare’ Thor Said sitting Down in the booth next to his brother

‘I’m not staring ‘ Loki Said in a dismissive tone.

Thor laughed

‘You seen rather jealous of lady y/n’

‘That’s preposturous! I’m not jealous. She’s a weak mortal’

‘Then why are you glaring at her?’

‘I’m just thinking of How easy it would be to defeat her in a battle’.

Thor rolled his eyes at him not believing his brother in the slightest.

‘Whatever you say brother! ‘ Thor exclaimed before joining the other Avengers who were still dancing around you.

Stark held one of his famous charity galas and Loki saw you talking to everyone in a gold ball gown that hugged your every curvy. You looked like an absolute vision.

Loki couldn’t stop admiring you, the way your hair fell down your back, how you lit up talking to your friends. You looked ethereal and Loki couldn’t stop starting at you. You hadn’t noticed thank the norms! Not that you really noticed him anyway so why would tonight be any different.

Loki noticed how content you looked slow dancing with his brother. Loki wondered if Thor and you were dating.

Loki felt a pang in his chest. Even his own brother favoured you over him and how could he not when you so easily charmed people around you. It was almost as if you put them under your spell.

Thor was spinning you around on the Dance floor and you were laughing, your eyes were practically glowing. Your head thrown back gleefully. Thor was smiling Down at you fondly.

Next you were dancing with Stark, you were chatting with Him the whole time, probably cracking jokes and laughing before Steve cut in.

Steve was much more gentle with you as you dance together slowly for a song.

Natasha danced with you next, you were dancing next to each other and doing all kinds of fast paced dance moves.

Loki spent all evening watching you.

There was an alien attack on New York and everyone was mid battle. Loki was fighting along his team mates and was using his Magic. He Saw the Way you were using daggers to stab the aliens, you had a fiery passion to you. For someone so breakable you seemed rather fierce.

You were impressive.

Loki had been rather distracted using his magic that he didn’t see one of the creatures coming close to Him which left Him with No time to react as the alien was close to hurting him. He notices that you had swung your hand with a dagger and hit the creature in the side before swinging your other hand with another dagger and hitting the creature in his neck and it fell unto the floor. You looked frozen at the spot, you were covered In blood, it had splattered and hit your face.

Loki tried to get you to look at him, tried to reach out to touch you but he froze. Touching you seemed wrong.

‘Y/n!’ Loki exclaimed as a creature dug his fingers into your side.

Loki reached out and grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the Way before the creature hurt you even further.

Loki lifted you off the ground and carried you somewhere safe away from the battle field

‘Stark! I need assistance, y/n got injured and appears to be in shock’

Loki gave his coordinates to Tony and watched you as you were avoiding his gaze

‘Why did you… ‘ Loki sighed he wasn’t usually tongue tied. He felt out of place And befuddled. Perplexed. He couldn’t think straight

You were still avoiding looking at him

‘You don’t have to carry me. I’m fine. Actually put me down’ you added stubbornly

‘Absolutely not! There’s a massive gash on your side. I would heal it but it’s too deep a cut I’m afraid’

‘It’s just a flesh wound. I will heal. I always do’

‘You won’t heal overnight’ Loki argued

‘You know despite what you think I’m not helpless or weak .’

‘What makes you say-‘

‘Thor mentioned it’ you stated with a hint of annoyance in your voice.

Of course. Brilliant just brilliant Thor. Just what he needed right now a stubborn mortal.

‘What on earth were you thinking! Norms!risking your life like that?’

You looked at Loki for the first time and seemed to tense up which caused your wound to sting even more and you hissed.

‘ look I know you’re not my biggest

fan but we are on the same team. team mates look out for each other’

‘We aren’t even mere acquaintances’

‘And do tell who’s fault is that’ you added giving him a look that told him you were pissed off.

‘ I beg your pardon! am I meant to converse and waste my time with a mere mortal!’

‘Oh I’m sorry my company doesn’t strike your fancy your majesty’ you added in a mocking voice.

Loki didn’t bother responding he just rolled his eyes at you. You folded your arms in front of your chest and looked away and muttered and stiffened in Loki’s hold.

‘Ignorant fool’

Loki wanted to scoff. He didn’t need saving especially not from you. But he kept his mouth shut. You needed to save your energy and arguing didn’t help. Plus he was tempted to ask more questions but didn’t get the chance to as Stark showed up.

‘Thank you for keeping her away from the battle Reindeer games’ Tony said as he took you gently Into his arms and flew off.

Loki noticed that you seemed to relax in Starks arms.

Loki just stood there for a moment and looked after you.

Loki didn’t see you around for the next while as you were recovering and he was pretty sure you were avoiding him and to be honest he didn’t blame you he hadn’t exactly been the most agreeable towards you.

While he hadn’t been nasty towards you as much as he had been behind your back.

He had had a lot of time to think about why your presence irritated him so much and the answer he had come up with didn’t please him and he would never admit it to anyone. He would take it to the grave.

He was perhaps. Just perhaps jealous of you.

The way you held yourself with grace and charisma in social gatherings. How everyone was naturally so drawn to you. How well liked you were by everyone you ever met.

How well spoken you were at Starks charity galas.

Why would he a literal god be jealous of you?

When he finally saw you again you were hanging out with Bucky, Steve and Sam. you were in the middle of a conversation but you seemed off, your smile seemed slightly forced and you seemed worn out and tired.You were wearing an oversized jumper and shorts.

Something had shifted in his perception of you. The annoyance was gone and in its place was regret, regret for not getting you out of the way quickly enough.

If it hadn’t been for him perhaps you wouldn’t have gotten injured. Now you weren’t yourself and Loki couldn’t deal with it so he left before he cause even more damage.

You didn’t go back to normal and no one noticed. At least no one but Loki. Loki saw How your smile wasn’t as wide or How your laugh wasn’t as vibrant anymore. Or How you weren’t the fucking ray of sunshine you used to be.It shouldn’t matter to Loki it really shouldn’t

as you weren’t friends. You weren’t close. But not seeing you smile? Yeah that was not acceptable. Loki knew he needed to cheer you up somehow but he didn’t know you well enough to even know what you liked and disliked.

Gone were the days where you sparkled. Your normal cheerful attitude was gone and a more gloomy one was there. You were engaged in conversation with one or several of the Avengers but lately you had on big baggy clothes and your nose stuck in a book. Your fellow team mates were giving you space.

Whatever happened that made you go into shock during the battle with the aliens must have really have taken its toll on you.

Loki spotted you on a couch next to the window and he sat down a few seats away from you.

You didn’t look up from your copy of little women at first as you appeared too engrossed in the book. Loki said nothing and started to read his own book.

You sighed

‘Did Tony ask you to babysit me? Because I’m fine Ste-‘ you started to say and looked up to find Loki on the couch

‘Oh’ you added confused

‘This is the best spot to read in the whole compound’ Loki added before going back to reading his book

‘I mean it. I really don’t need babysitting’

‘It’s a good thing that I’m not here to babysit you then’

You looked at him in disbelief

‘ why are you here then?’ You asked Loki softly.

‘You don’t seem like your usual self’

‘What do you mean?’

Loki sighed

‘Usually you shine. In a way unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. When you laugh you laugh with your whole body and you pull everybody in when you talk and it’s just so so irritating how easy it looks for you’

‘Are you. No you couldn’t possibly be-‘ You stopped talking.

You examined him for a moment he looked bothered almost -

‘You’re jealous of me?’ You asked

Flabbergasted

‘ why on Asgards green Earth would i be jealous?’ Loki Said trying to play it cool like he wasn’t bothered but he couldn’t fool you. At least not anymore.

‘you so are! I cannot believe mr I’m so great and mischeivious is jealous of a ‘mere mortal’ you commented and laughed

Loki didn’t say anything and you stopped laughing

‘Wait.. why are you jealous exactly ?’

Loki sighed and figured that maybe telling you couldn’t harm the situation. He was tired of always feeling alone and left out.

‘Everybody loves you! And it’s so easy for you being so naturally charming! It’s frustrating! It’s irritating! Even Thor like you better! He might be an oaf at times but he’s my brother’

‘ that’s not true! Thor adores you’

‘Please spare me the sympathic lies’

‘ you know before you joined he talked about How excited he was that you were joing the Avengers. He would coun’t Down the days for you to come. He even made me intrigued and i was ecstatic to meet you too’

Loki looked at you in disbelief

‘ why on earth would you be ecstatic’ Loki asked puzzled

‘ Thor is like family to me. When I joined he really looked after me, said I reminded him of you. He used to tell these long stories about your shenanigans when you were children. He made you seem so cool’

Loki didn’t say anything so you continued

You looked out the window before you continued.

‘I think everyone here is drawn to me because they can see how far I’ve come. When I arrived I wasn’t in the best condition. It took a lot of work and determination to become so charismatic and so positive’

‘How did you make the transition?’ Loki asked softly

‘Lots of patience with myself. Lots of practise. Still it’s nothing to be jealous of we are all different… Look we don’t have to be best buds or anything but can we just be civil to each other at least?’

Loki looked at you as if he saw you for the first time and nodded his head

‘Truce?’ You Said Holding out your pinky finger

‘Truce’ Loki confirmed linking his pinky finger with yours.

For the next few weeks Loki would join you on the couch and you would read in silence. On a rare occation he would bring you books for you to read and you would do the same to Him. Loki noticed you seemed a bit more like yourself.

On a particular rainy Loki noticed How you were staring out the window distracted from Reading your book.

‘What’s on your mind?’ Loki asked curiously

‘I’m admiring the rain. The Way it cascades Down the Windows so beautifully’

Loki was watching How soft your face looked with the sunlight framing your face beautifully. Your eyes were glowing and traces of your old self was formning again.

‘I wonder if a thunderstorm is coming later’ you said out loud in fascination

‘Do you want go outside in the rain?’

‘YES’ you Said before you Got up from your Seat and rushed out the compound and dragged Loki with you.

When you Got outside you stood and looked up at the rain before before spreding your arms out Loki was watching you with an amused expression.

‘You’re going to get soaked!’

You shrugged

‘I don’t Care!!’

You started to Dance in the rain Loki was watching you in fascination. You had No idea How carefree and beautiful you looked in that moment. It was as if you had sensed Him staring at you. This time it was in adoration and not envy.

‘Dance with me?’ You asked almost in a shy manner

‘I beg your parden?’

Had Loki just heard you right? You wanted to Dance with Him? Why on Asgard would you-

‘Dance. With. Me!!!’ You interrupted his thoughts.

Before he could protest you had taken his hands in yours and you started moving your body to the beat of an invisable drum, you looked up at Loki with your Big doe eyes and he was finding it hard to say No. Loki ended up dancing with you and you both just held Hands and danced For What seemed like an eternity. You kept smiling up at Him the entire time.

You and Loki didn’t hang out a lot on your own after that but you would wave Him over or Call Him over when you were talking to other Avengers and you would smile up at Him the entire time. You were starting to become your Old self again. Loki could tell you probably wanted Him to feel more included and Loki felt conflicted. He didn’t know why but he didn’t want you to pity Him. He wanted something Else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

You would even occationally go to Loki for advice.

You were sitting on the counter drinking your morning coffee with Loki sitting on a bar stool next to you sipping his tea. You looked adorable in your oversized in shirt and a pair of shorts.

You stretched which exposed your scar from that day, it was quite a massive scar. You noticed Loki looking at it and you put your arms down but didn’t cover yourself up.

‘How are you feeling now’ Loki said and pointed to where the scar was.

‘better’

‘You do seem a lot more chipper now. Almost like before’

Your gaze lingered on his.

‘Y/n?’

‘Yes?’

‘ if you are including me in conversations with the other Avengers because you pity me I would prefer it if you stopped. I don’t need anyone’s pity’

You stared at him incredulously

‘You’re kidding right?’

Loki looked at you with an almost vulnerable expression. Almost. Loki shook his head. It was too painful for him to speak at the moment.

‘I do not pity you. I include you because I value you. Because I see you as a friend. Because you put up with me, I know I’m a handful sometimes. Because I enjoy your company. Because you saved my life that day… Thank you for saving my life that day ’

Loki looked at you with a certain level of scepticism and scanned your face for any lies or deception but relaxed once he found nothing but earnestly.

‘I’m deeply sorry for how I treated you that day and before that. I was wrong to be jealous and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Is it possible for you to forgive me for being such a fool?’

You looked at him with a raw expression and leaned over and hugged him.

‘There’s nothing to forgive’

Loki didn’t expect the hug and tensed up, you sensed him being uncomfortable and let go and he regretted not hugging you back

‘I’m sorry I shouldn’t have hugg-‘

Loki shook his head and gave you a smile before pulling you into his arms and you hugged Him back fiercely.

‘Thank you for looking out for me that day. It means more to me than words could ever express’ Loki said placing his head on top of yours.

You spent ages in Loki’s embrace, he didn’t want to let you go.

The Avengers had gone to the fun fair but had split up in teams of Four to five people- it was Sam, Steve, Bucky, Wanda and Vision.

Tony was with Bruce, Morgan and Pepper.

The last group was you, Loki, Thor, Natasha and Peter.

You had spent the whole evening with your arms linked around Thor and Loki. Loki had to witness you being affectionate with Thor. It started out innocently enough- Thor did the ring toss game he had won a stuffed teddybear for you and you had hugged Him. But you had been giving Him looks all evening and Loki was.. Well slightly jealous, but this time he was jealous of Thor.

Ever since the hug a few weeks ago Loki had started to develope feelings for you.

he didn’t quite know what to do as a mere four months ago he had found your presence highly annoying now he looked forward to reading next to you on the couch and sharing his thoughts with you. He enjoyed when you dragged him out for group hangouts and asked him for advice. He liked the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about things you were passionate about.

He liked how you smiled when you saw him enter a room. He just overall really enjoyed how you lit up a room. He just enjoyed being around you. But he longed touch you.

Where you two a thing now? Did you fancy his brother??

Loki really couldn’t tell.

He knew the mature thing was to ask you about it but he was unsure of How to best approach the situation.

Thor and you were currently having a cotton candy contest and you were in the lead.

‘Go on y/n crush him!’ Nat said encouragingly while sitting across from you on the bench.

‘Go Thor!!’ Peter cheered

You swallowed the last piece of cotton candy and opened your mouth to show everyone No pieces of cotton candy was left

‘Y/n is the winner!!!’ Nat exclaimed and gave you a High five

You stood up and bowed

‘Thank you Thank you’

‘I BET PETER AND I CAN BUMP INTO YOU MOST IN THE SMALL CARS!’

‘Oh you are so dead!’ You commented excitedly before running after Thor and Peter which left Nat and Loki alone.

Loki looked after you slightly amused.

‘You know i haven’t seen y/n that happy for years. You’re a good influence on her’

‘ I’m sure she would have gotten there herself’ Loki shrugged and looked after you.

He had been very wrong about you and your strength. When life pushed you Down you always Got back up. You one of the strongest people he knew.

‘You know when she Got injured she briefly talked about quitting the Avengers and going back home. It was a really bad day for her and for weeks after she was a shell of who she used to be until you became friends. I believe you two make each other better’ Nat Said taking a drink from her beer before going over to the bumper cars.

Loki walked over to the bumper cars and saw you, Peter and Thor in the queue

Thor and Peter were chatting and you were smiling at Thor.

Loki watched you in the bumper car chasing after while you were laughing when they bumped into your car or you bumped into theirs.

You really were something else.

Loki looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips

Nat was laughing at them

‘Such children’ she murmured

Once they were done in the bumper cars Thor, Peter and Y/n joined Nat and Loki.

‘Told you we would beat you!!!’

You shoved Thor playfully and rolled your eyes.

‘I’ll get you next time!!’

‘In your dreams fair maiden!’

You laughed slightly and went over to Loki and linked your elbow together with Loki’s.

‘Next time I’ll team up with Loki and we will kick your ass! Right Loki’ you asked looking at him for confirmation

Loki gave you a nod but had gone quiet and you could sense some Kind of tension in the air and decided to go off alone with Loki.

‘Let’s go for a ride on the Ferris wheel’ you said as you walked away from the others.

‘We will be back shortly’ you called over your shoulder and everyone gave you a knowing look and you blushed and rolled your eyes.

When you got to the Ferris wheel there was a heavy silence and Loki seemed distracted and you waited patiently for him to speak.

By the time you sat down in the seats and the Ferris wheel started moving he still hadn’t spoken.

‘Loki?’

He looked at you with a blank expression

‘Is something wrong? You have been awfully quiet all evening’

‘I’m alright Darling No need to worry’

You gave Him a look that told Him you didn’t believe Him for a second.

‘It’s nothing’

‘Okay’ you shrugged and looked up at the sky as the Sun was setting. You were admiring the view.

‘It’s so beautiful ‘ you said in pure amazement as you looked at the sun set.

‘You know.. you should really tell him that you like him’

You looked at him so fast and gave him a confused look

‘Tell Who? I like.. wait.. What now?’ You asked visably confused

‘ my brother darling. I see the way look at him, the way he looks at you’

Loki added uneasily. He wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

You started to look at him incredulously before laughing

Loki looked at you puzzled

‘I adore Thor’ you started

Lokis face fell a bit

Here it comes

‘He’s a dear friend of mine but I do not have any feelings for him… wait why would you think-‘

You looked at him and he looked at you

‘Wait a minute…Are you jealous again?’

Loki said nothing but looked at you with an almost pained expression

‘Wait… why are you jealous?’ You asked unsure

‘Isn’t it rather obvious?‘ Loki asked

You Said nothing. You just looked at Him and he looked at you. The tention was so Think that you could Cut it with a knife.

Loki leaned in towards you and touched your face and your eye widened in surprise which made Loki freeze up and lean back and he removed his hand from your cheek.

‘ my apologies Darling i thought there was a moment ‘ Loki murmered before looking away.

You pur your hand on top of his.

‘You like me?’ You asked timidly almost insecure

This made Loki look up at you.

‘ most ardently darling’ Loki’s impression softened and he smiled

‘Kiss me’ you added boldly and smiled

Loki soaked in your beauty for a minute, you were shinning and looked at Him like he was the best thing in the whole world which made him go a little soft

Loki didn’t need to be told twice. He captured your lips in his and caressed your face with his fingers which made you moan and deepen the kiss. You made out for Ages before eventually breaking apart, you rested your forehead against his.

Loki smiled against your forehead, he couldn’t believe he got to have this or that it was mutual. I didn’t understand how he got to have someone as wonderful as you in his life.

You were the actual sunshine of his life and he would treasure you for however long you wanted him.he hoped he got to keep you forever.

[bee0bub]

・꒷꒦︶ 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 𓂅◞

🧺﹗pairing : gojo satoru x gn!reader

‿︵ 1.09k words + angst + tw: gojo being a prick + word vomit tbh + degrading words

₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎🍵 : woooahhhhh two posts in a row?! BAHHAHA also i dont know what was going on with all the arrow metaphors?!??@!??@!

“I want to break up with you.” You hated it. You hated how the words sat on your tongue. You hated how it left your lips, might as well be considered as puke. You hated how it hit your ear. Somehow it hit the reality of a future without Gojo like a drum. You hated it. You were breaking up with Gojo Satoru.

You duck your head, eyes focusing and fixating on anything but your — now ex — boyfriend. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, well, blindfold. You would burst into tears if you’d do.

Gojo, however, was uncharacteristically quiet. His quietness always screamed anger, and he was angry. The insides of his cheeks were pierced between his teeth, and the rosiness of his cheeks, often present when he’s in a good mood, was gone. He was angry — at least, he wanted to be angry. In his head, a wave of thoughts crashed onto his frontal cortex repeatedly. Like a tsunami.

“I don’t get it.” Disappointedly, the only right thing Gojo said all day. The fact that he didn’t get it. He was right, and it was so obvious. He didn’t get how he was slowly and absentmindedly destroying the relationship. Like a crumbling building. He didn’t get how hurt you felt whenever he’d throw you backhanded compliments, sometimes downright mean insults when you’re feeling your best. “Are you really gonna wear that?” “What’s with all that makeup on your face?” “You look like a whore.”

An arrow shot right through your heart.

Not the Cupid kind. The bad kind. The one with poison lathered at the tip.

It was unfair. He didn’t get how hurt you felt whenever he’d flirt to other girls, right in front of you. As if you were nothing but a mere stranger passing by. He would give them starving looks — if he’s in a good mood then he’d strike up a conversation. Pin them by the wall and scold them for having a “naughty mouth”. All the conversations ended with, “my partner’s with me”, paired with a particularly harsh eye roll from him and a rather rude glare from the person he’s held captive today.

He was a fucking asshole for doing that, in front of his partner too, but you were surprised of how all of them swept his actions under the carpet like that. Probably acting out of desperation. You couldn’t blame them, Gojo’s flawlessly attractive and he practically possesses the best social skills if he’s feeling serious.

You couldn’t forget the time that Gojo was doing his Casanova bidding on some beautiful woman while you both were on a date. You couldn’t help but notice that that woman had the exact opposite features rested on her face. The fact that Gojo looked even more enamored compared to the other women he has talked to ever, in his life, bothered you.

A sweet old lady passes by the two, completely ignoring your presence and instead focusing on the sorcerer and his “companion”.

“What a cute couple. You’d make pretty babies.” The lady coos, earning a flustered string of vowels and consonants from the girl, and a painful silence from your boyfriend.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? The words “he’s actually my boyfriend” sat at the tip of your tongue, begging to be released. To Gojo’s satisfaction, you said nothing. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Gojo, please deny it, please.

Another arrow shot right through your heart. Then another. Then another.

He didn’t get how hurt you felt whenever he’d play you like a fool and make a poor taxi driver listen to your muffled cries as they drive you back home. It was a choreographed pattern — you would remind him about a date that you planned 3 days ago, he’d promise you he’d attend, you’d be wearing your best attire and use a special For-Special-Occasions-Only makeup kitt, you’d be waiting at your reserved table for more than an hour, and finally.

Finally when you receive a text message from him after sitting there, and almost getting escorted out the restaurant for not ordering a platter, he’d type the same exact response.

“srry. work problems. will make up 2 u soon.”

The arrows kept coming. The poison hurt so much that at one point, it stopped hurting. Your senses grew numb. The poison was so strong that one day, it made no effect at all. You were stupid. The poison made you grow stupid. You were stupid that you didn’t break up with him sooner. While you were wallowing in your own pain, the arrows stuck on your chest — the famous sharpness of daggers practically rivaling the sweet sultry pain of the poison, Gojo was busy in someone else’s chest. He was not taking out any arrows.

That’s when you ripped out all the arrows from your chest. It bled, it hurt, the poison was still there, it hurt, but it was something. Like a phlegm that got taken out after lodging your throat for so long. But it wasn’t a full cleanse. You wanted to do more.

That’s when you asked to break up with him.

“I don’t get it.” “Are you kidding me?!” You wanted to punch him, kick him, jab him in the throat, kiss him, tell him that you were joking, tell him that you didn’t want to break up, cry in his chest, god. You didn’t know it was this hard. “You- you hurt me! God, Satoru, you hurt me!”

It was pathetic, you thought. You were breaking down in front of him, repeating the words “you hurt me” like a broken record — like it’s the only 3 words that you know in any language. You wanted to spill out paragraphs, vomit out words that you’d probably regret later on, you wanted to tear him apart with your words. But somehow, you can’t. It was pathetic.

Little did you know that Gojo’s heart tightened every time you let out a sob. He wanted to hug you right then and there, tell you it was alright. It’d be a lie if he said that he lost feelings for you. He still loved you. He was just really stupid.

“You, you fucking hurt me Satoru.” This was it. You were ripping out the last arrow that pierced straight into your heart, it was a small arrow, but it hurt. It hurt a fucking lot. It hurt so much that you didn’t even notice it was there. This was it. It was like removing a splinter. This was it.

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

[oldcoyote]

"How I wanted to be a writer my entire life until Glee fandom literally just crushed it right out of me" OK except you were one of the most popular writers in Glee ficdom so how did that 'crush' anything? I'm sorry if this seems rude but your tweet seems rude when so many of us supported you and your writing.

oh god ok. first off, i am very sorry if the tweet caused any offense - that was certainly not my intention at all. but i need you to understand that the situation at the end of my time as neaf in Glee fandom was an iceberg; you only saw the very top peak, and there was a veritable fuckload of traumatic shit going on underneath.

let me explain properly, at last, why i left

let me say first and foremost that i am still overwhelmingly grateful for the support and kindness that thousands of people in Glee fandom showed me. for the response to my writing, the support for the blog itself, and for the wonderful interactions on this site day in and day out that made those some of the best days of my life

that said, when you have a blog like that, one that grows rapidly in popularity, you do get - as I did - an array of responses that vary from unsettling (people wanting your advice, people coming to you for help), to upsetting (people despising you for your undeserved popularity), to downright frightening (people trying to find your real name and home address, people building shrines to you, and no i'm not joking on that last one)

the main reason i started the blog was to get my writing out there, that's why the blog began, but it became such a huge part of my life due to the popularity of it that i spent the vast majority of my days on it answering messages and interacting with everyone. my entire world became the blog, and it had a deeply negative impact on my real life relationships - which was one reason why i left

another big reason why was the volume of asks i would get about people's trauma, none of them with any warnings, or asks begging me for help or exposure. they were ceaseless, and exhausting, and after years of it i was struggling to cope

and then there was the drama, or the rest of the iceberg, so to speak - the real, main reason i left

essentially, in the early days of the blog i was happily oblivious to a growing discontent with my presence in fandom. other writers and big names (BNFs or 'big name fans' i believe was the term, oof) in the fandom had slowly become angry that i was getting so much undeserved attention for my blog and my fics, and while i still to this day don't know why they hated me so damn much, that hate was very real and it grew rapidly. vagueposting began about me being full of myself, about how little i deserved what i was getting, about how unfair it was that people liked my work when my writing was so bad. eventually, my attention was brought to it by a friend who was also a friend of theirs, and i remember that night so well - the night i discovered how deeply these people who didn't even know me absolutely loathed me, and how many of them there were

after a lot of crying and weighing options, i decided to ignore it, and leave them be. our spheres rarely crossed anyway, why engage and potentially make it worse? but ignoring it didn't help, as with all hate it begged for attention, and it continued to spread to places where it became far more visible - like my ask box

then the stories started.

on anonymous Glee hate-gossip groups on livejournal and dreamwidth, they went in and made up tales about things i'd never actually done - the nastier details of which i will leave out, but suffice it to say i was painted as a self-serving, self-obsessed bitch who used her followers to ostracize other writers, and far worse. i was suddenly Cassandra Claire 2.0., but in my case, it was as horrifying as it was fictional, and it left me helpless to defend myself without giving it more attention despite the fact that i could prove none of it was true

i felt broken at that point already, but then came the doxxing, and the fallout

during my time on the blog i'd made quite a few close friends with other very popular bloggers, some of whom were adored by fandom and some of whom were... well, very much not. but they were my friends and i stuck by them, even when they did things i didn't necessarily agree with

now, a very dear friend of mine who wasn't a huge 'bnf' had written a fic based around a fairly uncommon AU that had barely been done before in the fandom. it was a wonderful fic, and wasn't getting the attention it deserved (in my opinion), but i reblogged it whenever i could to draw attention to it. not long after it became popular, another close friend - one with a bigger blog and a vast array of followers - decided to write a very similar story right down to the AU type. when i mentioned in passing that it was very similar to the first fic that was going around and did they intend that, they got very angry with me, yelled at me for insinuating that they were copying someone else, and the friendship quickly imploded after that in a messy, ugly kind of way, taking other friends out with it

when i say it got ugly, i mean that this person was the kind of person vagueblogging and vindictiveness was invented for. i also learned the hard way thought the fallout that this 'friend' was actually one of the people who had been going and posting things about me that weren't true, just to drum up hatred for the neaf blog and to knock me down a peg

then, out of nowhere, someone started leaving my real name in my inbox. i was horrified and frightened, and used an old trick to try and track the IP address of the anonymous sender. it turned out to be, once again, that friend's location

in the wake of all of that, feeling absolutely gutted and betrayed by one of my closest friends, feeling overwhelmed by begging strangers, and spending too much time on the gleeme dreamwidth reading about what a disgusting and worthless person i was and how my writing was such a joke -- i fell to pieces, and stopped functioning for a few days

finally, after i got myself back together, i realised what i had to do. ending my time in the Glee fandom was largely done for my mental health - but the biggest step in that was stopping writing altogether. even now, the idea of writing makes me sick to my stomach. i will never regret the fics i wrote, i know how much joy they did bring to a lot of people, and i will forever be grateful for those who read them and continue to read them on ao3. there are people across the world with my words tattooed on their bodies, in my handwriting. there are people all over who still remember me fondly, and that brings me a great deal of peace and comfort

but i cannot forget the hate, or the cruelty, that these people flung at a complete stranger on the internet just because it was fun for them to do so. when i say my writing was crushed out of me, it has nothing to do with my gratitude, please believe that. it's just that it literally was.

[thesoulesscollection]

How about V (abandoned place) for the Ask game with Terrence Suave, please?

Or M (rain/snow/storm) with Bernadette? (Whomever you want to write about the most)

Heya, thank you for the request and sorry for the delay here. Again, I do hope you like it. Like always anyone can request anything here so don't hesitate to flood my ask box. 

I decided to do both Terrence Suave and my Oc, Bernadette Warner. Both are separate one-shots here. Also, if there's any questions, asks and or requests for prompts for either character you can send it in if you want

Terrence Suave (V: An abandoned or empty place):

Tw/Tags: Minor Angst, Terrence Suave Whump, Mental Anguish, & Ambiguous Timeline (preferably one where the Toppats got into space)

"I was a really bad leader, wasn't I?" 

Surely looking like he was going mad with emotions he wasn't used to experiencing, Terrence spoke out to himself knowing no one else was there to reply back in an abandoned Toppat base. 

"I get it. I was awful. Reginald had every right to dethrone me. But this is truly unfair, really" He grumbled, kicking the loose rock from the crumbling cement floor, "I've got nobody. He has everything anyone can wish for. Living it up in space with endless riches and loyal love… And then he has the dang nerve to think I should be punished for a lifetime" 

Walking around in a circle likely wearing down a route beneath his feet while he repetitively waved his arms all over the place above his head Terrence irritably groaned plopping down in a spare seat. 

"And this stupid ancient TV isn't doing me any favors either" As he hit the top of said TV the screen was displaying yet another highly successful raid of the Toppats, their orbital space station flapping in endless starry skies with Reginald's smugly prideful face made it about ten times worse until to his relief immediately turned to black. 

'And tell me now who's fault is that, hm?' 

Swirling around to face the unknown voice that rudely yet truthfully mocked him for all his inadequacy in life, the disheveled man once so rich in practically anything he could wish for, previously decked out with expensive jewelry was currently worse for wear when he saw a familiar face staring down at him. 

'I did tell you after all that you would be the downfall of yourself" Reginald had noted with a signature cheshire grin that irritated Terrence so much. 

"You're not there. I know it so go away" 

It was painfully true, his mind wasn't what it used to be years ago and right at this moment proved it when he felt his sanity slowly slipping from him, 'Oh. Don't talk to an old friend like that. I know we didn't end our friendship in an amicable manner but this is downright rude, don't you think so, Terri?'

"Just leave me alone… Please" Terrence pitifully pleaded.

'Honestly this is just sad. Pathetic even. Terrence Suave, I thought you'll be living the high life no matter what happens like you said? Right before I left you for dead? Plainly put this is worse than death, huh?'  

Twirling the ends of his curled mustache with two fingers, an odd comforting habit, the spirit strutted over his free hand freely waving around in the air to prove a point. 

'Held up in an old base of ours hiding away from the outside world? As if anyone cared where you were anyways whether you were dead or alive" 

"I said shut up!!!" 

As Terrence yelled, his voice cracking in complete despair, his entire body shook uncontrollably as he desperately got ahold of something, a large rock, throwing it directly towards Reginald's direction with aimed precision. Like expected though the spirit disappeared in an instant and the rock unexpectedly crashed into the already broken Tv screen. Shielding himself from the thousand glass shards that came his way then laid quite haphazardly across the floor where Terrence stood there stiff like an unmoving statue. His breathing was unsteady, erratic, pupils like pin pricks as he hunched over, arms wrapped around his middle attempting to regain his composure, mind, and body. 

It came to him with little success. 

***

Bernadette Warner (M: When it rains/snows/storms) First time writing my Oc so I was happy to do this. As well, same goes for Galeforce (who is a secret favorite of mines):

Tw/Tags: Nothing Major Here. Just Fluff and humor (an attempt at it cause that's not my strong suit)  

"You're absolutely drenched, Hubs" She loudly chuckled at the wet misery that was her dear tiredly stumbling into their shared tent. 

"Yes. Unfortunately it started pouring just a while ago. And I got caught in the midst of it" 

"Your poor ol' thing" She stood up from her seat near their desk, wiping the water from the man's face with her thumbs, "Is there anything I can do for you, hun?" 

"I'm over sixty, Bernadette so please. Just spare your false sympathy here. I know you're trying to hold back the laughter"

Resisting the growing urge to indeed laugh, her will did eventually break into a fit of plentiful, deep rooted laughter that echoed throughout the tent's thin, flimsy walls. 

"Okay you big baby. I was only trying to help being a long-term doctor and your supportive, loving wife here but go ahead then you can be an old, stubborn sore loser with me. I've had to deal with it for over thirty years as your partner and more if you're counting the times we were kids?" 

Though Bernadette continued to laugh before it soon died down in due time to a repressed mild-mannered snort, she fondly watched on to how Hubert merely huffed back so used to her playful antics. Nor did he pull back from her touch, rather decided to lean into it with a loving smile when she cupped his damp face with her dry hands. Short, well trimmed, and clean nails then threaded through his long mustache and beard currently in such a messy disarray where she made sure it looked properly nice once again. A tiny perfectionist side of her always wanted to trim Hubert's facial hair to something a bit more manageable or not have it at all - she never particularly liked it - however she didn't mind now. She just admires the man in silence, lightly gripping his beard and then tugging him close, her lips capturing his in a kiss. 

[forthehpfanboys]

Three is a Crowd

Pair: Remus Lupin x Reader x Sirius Black; he/him.

Summary: Sirius, you and Remus weren't scared to hide your relationship, but when it came to more.. Private matters, they obviously preferred keeping it personal. Plus, who doesn't love teasing Remus?

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), dirty talk, poly relationship, Wolfstar (but is that even a warning?), hair pulling, short mention of daddy. use of a collar at the end. If I missed any, please dm me.

Notes: Me, knowing damn well I have a busy life, but takes every request I get because I can’t say no. Oh, and the gif by me using other people's gifs- Might make a part two. Top Remus tho. 

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

It wasn’t hard to catch the boy's attention. James and Lily loved to joke that they were wrapped around your finger, which they were. All you had to do was sway your hips a little bit or bend over right or just lick your lips innocently. They really were, they weren't afraid to admit it and of course you used it to your advantage, but you still love them. That always came first.

 Sirius and Remus had fallen head over heels for you during their time during Hogwarts. Both could pinpoint it exactly. The two men were already an item when you showed up at the school- a transfer student. You were introduced to them by Lily, something about you being a distant cousin of hers and you quickly became a new founded Marauder. 

Remus fell for you first. It was around the time they were all studying to become animagus and he discovered you were bloody brilliant! After months of struggling with the stupid ritual, you were the final piece they needed to figure it all out. And you didn’t judge him over something he couldn’t control, so that was a bonus to him, of course. But how could you judge him for his lycanthropy? Almost everyone in the wizarding world hated him for this one simple thing, 

Meanwhile, Sirius’ was a lot more simple. He noticed you by your slick comebacks. Like holy Merlin’s beard- Sirius was convinced your words could cause someone to physically combust. He’d never seen that happen, but he has seen you make 8th years cry. He’s also a hundred percent certain you have a thesaurus lying under your pillow. He didn’t know the word ‘imbecile’ had so many synonyms. And you helped him help his best friend so of course he fell in love with you.

So, when you fell for them, a natural love for being between both boys formed. This random craving would kick in whenever you were around the two of them. Whether it was you three walking to the next class or sitting in the Gryffindor common room, you just had to be between them. It was quite literally your favorite place on this planet. But there were rules- of course there were.  

One of the main rules was no teasing in front of friends. Believe it or not, James had a limit on how much sexual tension he could sit through in one lunch period, so he enforced the rule, which was.. Unusual to say the least. Usually Remus created the rules to keep you and Sirius in check. He had a switch and a sub under his belt and it could be a struggle, especially when they were bratty and they’d team up against him.

Which is exactly what you two had been doing all day; harassing poor Moony despite whoever was near. During potions, Sirius had palmed Remus while you playfully whispered in the werewolf’s ear, calling him daddy and asking for help with your most innocent voice. Watching your boyfriend squirm and slap Sirius’ hand away was genuinely humorous. It became down right funny when he threatened to punish both of you by not talking to you, but you both knew he’d do more than that. Knowing Remus would drag you both by your ties to the dorm room and straight up ruin you two, you both eased off him, letting him continue his notes in peace, but once potions were over, the teasing immediately continued.

Soon enough, classes were over and the three of you were walking back to the dorms. It was easy to see Remus was sick of your shit, so while he led you to his prefect room, you and Sirius were looking at each other. Sirius shrugged, looking as laid back as he felt, but you were a tad more nervous. Sometimes Remus could be downright mean. 

“You two are insufferable!” Remus hollered, his hand rubbing his temple as he shoved open his door. “I know you love my reactions, guys, but seriously? Was grabbing my ass over my robe necessary?” He had his arms crossed over his chest and turned around to glare at you and Sirius. 

“You know it was, baby.” Sirius winked while shutting the door behind him. He walked around you, dragging a hand across your lower back before diving onto Remus’  bed. He laid on his back, spreading his legs and placing his hands behind his head. Your eyes shamelessly dragged across the sliver of pelvic bone peaking out under his white collared shirt.

“I thought it was a bit much.” You shrugged, looking over to Moony’s glowing eyes. A smirk grew across your lips when he pointed at you, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Being a kiss ass does not mean you’re free, mister. You’re in just as much trouble as that one.” His point moved to the man laying on the bed, who clearly couldn’t care less. He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down onto the edge of the bed. He even smacked Sirius’ hand away when it gripped his hip. “Down, boy.”

“Ouchies! My pride.” Sirius mocked your voice and rubbed his hand, a chuckle leaving his lips. He couldn’t help but lick his lips. His dark eyes flicked over to you, his smirk growing as he nodded his head in the direction of Remus’ back.

“Good. I’m mad at you.” The werewolf ducked his head down before running a hand through his hair, making the curly locks messier than usual. He beckoned you over with two curling fingers and waited patiently for you to stand in front of him. Once you were in arms reach, he cupped both of your cheeks in each hand and smiled at you, bringing your face closer to his. “What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. 

“I’m not sure, but I know Sirius technically did more damage than I did. I’m your bestest boy.” You grinned, grabbing his wrists and kissing a palm. Your grin turned into a side smirk when Sirius let out a weak ‘hey!’ behind your brunette boyfriend. 

Suddenly, Remus’ arms were twisting around your waist and he was falling backwards onto the bed, taking you down with him. You let out a yelp while colliding with your soft boyfriend's chest.

“I think I know what I’m going to do with you.” Remus’ head was resting on Sirius’ tummy, allowing the animagus to run his fingers through soft hazel nut locks, which Remus easily ignored. Meanwhile, Lupin was cheekily slipping his hand under your shirt. His calloused palms glided across your skin, rubbing your hip gently before moving up to your belly. “I’m going to ignore the little bastard behind me and I’m going to focus on you, pretty boy.”

“Hey! (Y/n) messed with you too, Rem! You’re being unfair!” Sirius sat up a little, bracing his body weight on his elbows as he glared down at his freckle covered partner. His jaw dropped when Remus flicked his nose before skillfully tugging your shirt over your head. “Un-fuckin’-believable.” Sirius grumbled, laying back on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Your smart mouth is why I’m ignoring you.” Remus spoke nonchalantly, one hand slipped into your back pocket, gave your butt a tight squeeze, while the other steadily began climbing toward your chest. His hand in your pocket held your hips down while his hips grinded up into yours. His eyes darkened at the needy whine that left your lips when his rough thumb pad ran over one of your nipple.

See, Remus always enjoyed seeing you react to him. He could write down all of it. He could fill enough books with his favorite things about you to cause an empty Hogwarts library to overflow. How your eyes would roll back into your skull, how your jaw would go slack with need and how your breath catches in the middle of your throat, leaving you breathless, how you’d moan his name. He loved wrecking you, utterly destroying you.

His scar covered hand moved up to your hip, getting a steadier grip so he could really raise his hips and roll them against yours. The hand on his chest delicately rolled a nipple between the thumb and forefinger. He thought you were a piece of art, painted just for him. Your heart was pounding in your ears. Remus was quickly becoming the only coherent thought in your head. You could smell his perfume and it was only fogging up your head worse than his touch. You let out a moan, your eyelids drooping a tad.

"You like that, baby?" he whispered into your open mouth, kissing the corner before sliding his lips down to the corner of your jaw. He licked a fat, flat line across the point, running up to your earlobe before sucking on it. 

The werewolf grinded up into you harder, a growl emitting from his throat that would scare even the toughest of creatures. He let out a loud, breathy loan when you nodded and copied his hip movements. 

"Of course you do. You're not a brat or a whiney bitch- you're perfect." 

Suddenly, Sirius was sitting up and Remus was going silent, almost frozen in his place. Both were listening quite intently over your heavy breathing when loud, stomping footprints made themselves known. Sirius watched in amusement while Remus threw you on to the empty bed space next to him and magicked a blanket over the both of you.

James was pushing open the door about as loudly and hazardously as his footsteps. The door bounced off the wall and collided with his still outstretched arm. You sat up, slowly coming back from the pleasure filled bliss, and slowly becoming more and more pissed you just got cock-blocked by one of your more oblivious friends.

“James, sorry, mate, we’re in the mi-” Sirius was rudely cut off by the messy haired idiot. Spit flew from James’ mouth as he spoke aggressively, his hand waving around as he spoke.

"Can you believe him?!" the Seeker hollered, acting as if his friends, best friends knew immediately what he was talking about. He strode into the middle of the room, pacing in front of the polygamous couple, clearly pissed. It didn't take long for Peter to follow in after, either. 

"No, Prongs, you're not exactly telling us anything." Remus spoke up, acting as if he totally wasn't just grinding against you. He was good at keeping his voice level and that it had you confused. 

"Little Sour Grape Snape thinks he can try to push that whole fiasco on me like I meant for it to happen?" James yelled out again, almost completely ignoring Remus. Peter sat on the bed across from the trio, his eyes glued to James as he paced. You looked at Sirius, who turned to you, and shrugged, scooting to sit right next to Remus.  

"Wanna share what's goin' on, Pete?" Sirius asked, finally scooting to be face to face with the soft boy, and sitting on the other side of Remus. His hand landed on Remus' thigh, gently rubbing over the blanket.

The chubby boy played with his fingers, his mouth opening quickly to tell the tale of Snape and his stupid complaining and blood status shit. However, Remus, nor you, could focus because Sirius’ hand was moving under the blanket and going straight between Remus’ legs. 

The sun was setting behind the vast forest, effectively blocking natural light, leaving the room slightly colder and darker than before. Sirius knew it was hard to see what was going on under the blanket, so all carefulness got thrown out the window. 

Sirius' hand slid between Remus' thighs, using a hand to hide his smirk. He nodded his head along, as if he was really listening and invested in the story. You turned to Sirius, following his arm and the lump under the blanket and got the idea- and it only became reinforced when Sirius gave you a dramatic wink.

Your own hand slid under the blanket, landing on your werewolf boyfriend's knee, you thumb caressing it gently. Your hand didn’t stay there long. You began to move it up, moving slowly, just inch by inch, stopping suddenly when Remus’ hand clamped around your wrist.

“Boys, stop it.” Remus growled out, but it seemed more directed to Sirius. You were worried for a second that James or Peter heard, but when they kept going on and on, delving deeper and deeper into the story, you realized they were absolutely clueless. You decided to test the waters, slowly running your hand down and then back up, a tad higher, but Moony left his hand on your wrist.

“I said, cut it out. Now.” The brunette’s voice was deep enough to cause a shudder to go down your spine and it went straight to your dick. You jumped when his hand landed on your thigh, giving you a warning squeeze that you once again ignored and moved your hand closer to the inside of his thigh. 

You felt fingers run over yours at the top of his thigh and suddenly Remus’ thigh muscles were tightening. Padfoot had run his fingers over his hard-on. You knew you were both pushing it, but you kept going. You heard the brunette groan into his hand, his eyelids fluttering for a second before his gaze hardened and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. You could hear the low growl emitting from this throat.

So while James and Peter told their elaborate and stupidly long story, you both teased your partner, enjoying how he tried to sit still and refused to even look at you two. Remus’ jaw was pulled tight, his eyes darker than the night, and his lips drawn into a thin line. Eventually, it came to an end, and the two left, James complaining loudly that no one cared like he did and suddenly the blanket was thrown across the room.

Remus stood up, giving you a glare that you couldn’t help but find hot as hell. You always loved riling him up, but you also loved managing to wiggle out of punishments. Sirius always bitched about you getting away nearly scot free, but you’d just blow raspberries at him. It was funny, honestly, not that you were laughing now. It was clear both of you took it too far.

“You two are in a whole heap of fucking trouble. I can not believe you today, especially you. You’re such a bad influence on my baby.” Remus pointed at Sirius, his brows drawn tight together in pure anger. His eyes were lit up like with fire and the veins on his neck were protruding from underneath the skin in the sexiest way. The simple feature had you clenching your thighs, hoping to release some tension or get a touch or something.

“Our baby. Besides, you’re overreacting Rem.” Sirius shrugged, leaning back on his hands. He blew a stand of hair out of his face, acting like everything was fine and dandy while his boyfriend had steam blowing out of his ears.

His simple sentence caused the brunette’s eye to twitch and you knew he had dug himself a bigger whole. You put your hands in your lap like a good boy and sat, watching the two argue, knowing it was going to be a very long night.

“Oh. I’m overreacting, huh? Do you wanna say that again?” His tone was so flat, almost like he was talking to an idiotic teenager who did exactly what he was told not to do, the messy haired animagus was sitting up quickly, realizing he fucked up- again.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant, baby, you’re getting my words twisted. I meant it’s my fault and that you might be getting a tad carried away. Please don’t be mad at me.” Sirius put on his most dazzling smile and softest voice. He was trying to do what you did so well and wiggle his way out of punishments. “Have I ever mentioned how hot you look when you're mad?”

It was funny, really, how Sirius was saying exactly what you were thinking.

“No, dove, I’m not mad at you.” Remus threaded his hand slowly through Sirius' wavy hair, a small, sweet smile spread across his cheeks. Sirius let out a sigh, a huge grin matching his boyfriends, his eyes sparkling with pure joy in the dim light.

"I'm glad you're so understanding, honey bunches. I love you so, so, so much." Sirius spoke, leaning forward, lips puckered to plant a kiss to the brunettes. You really thought he had known Moony better. Moony very, very rarely let either of you off the hook for something like this. 

However, Remus didn't let him move very far. His fingers latched onto the hair at the top of Sirius' head and ripped it back, causing his neck to bend backward and a whorish moan escaped his lips. Siri’s hands shot up to grip the one tugging his head back and he had to strain his eyes to look at his Moony.

"I’m fucking livid, Sirius. You're such a slut. Surely you know me better than that. Have I ever let you get away with behavior like that?” Remus waited for an answer. He wasn’t very patient though, because soon, he was pulling on the long locks again. “Well?”

“No.” Sirius groaned out. He seemed grumpy he couldn’t cute his way out of this like he was sure you could. You figured you could probably avoid the punishment by sneaking out, knowing Remus wouldn’t send a search party after you. And if you made a good enough excuse, he’d let you go with a harsh spanking and the promise of no orgasms for the day, which didn’t seem too terrible.

“Do I have to treat you like a slut?" his lips pressed against a pulse point but didn't place a single kiss to Sirius' lips. "Maybe I should put a muzzle on your filthy mouth and tie you up. Put you in the closet while I fuck our dearest silly, hmm?"

Remus pulled away, this time tugging Sirius' eyes level with his. The werewolf let out a snicker, enjoying the way tears of pain had gathered in his boyfriends eyeline.

"I should teach you who's in charge. What do you say pumpkin?" Remus turned to the spot where you were seated and noticed it was empty. "Pumpkin?" He turned around and saw you trying to sneak out of the dorms door.

He reached into his pocket, tsking all the while casting a spell that caused a collar to appear around your neck with a pop. You let out a squeak, your heads going to the new leather.

"Do I have to put both of you in your place?” Remus pushed Sirius away and walked swiftly over to you, grabbing the d ring on the front of your collar. He gave it a tug, effectively keeping your eyes on his. “You’re not being my good boy, are you?”

“No..” Unlike Sirius, you answered quickly. You looked up at Remus, eyes wide, owlish and feigning innocence. “But I-”

“Quiet. You’re usually so good for me, darling. I bet you picked up the disrespect from our boyfriend, didn’t you? I’m gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you.” He tugged on the d-ring, dragging you with him as he walked back over to the bed. “Sirius, against the headboard.”

Without hesitation, the niorette shuffled toward the headboard, resting his back against it. He learned quickly to keep his mouth shut. With the new space made, Remus pushed you forward and laughed when your hands came out in front of you to catch your fall, but slipped on the silk bedspread. Your chest collided with the plush mattress, a pained cry leaving your lips when your knees collided with the wooden floor.

“Owie, Rem!” You turned to look back at him, but he grabbed your hair and forced your cheek against the mattress. You looked back at him, your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment and you tried to pout your way out of this, like usual.

“Shut up, bunny. Daddy’s not going easy on you this time, so be a good boy and take what I fucking give you.”

[speechlessxx]

Jealous (Clark Kent x Reader)

Request: Hello, lovely! How would jealous Superman react to someone hitting on the reader? 😏 from @navybrat817​

Word Count: roughly 900

Warnings: this is trash i’m sorry lmaoo, unfair fight bc superman

Even with Clark’s busy schedules – whether he was reporting to duty as a journalist or as Superman – the Kryptonian found that withholding his secret from you was a challenge. As much as he wanted to reveal it to you, he knew that the news would only put you in harm’s way. He tried to sell the story that he was just an aspiring reporter trying to make his big break which is why his time was so divided.

You chalked up his repeated absences to his career. His schedules made it hard to find moments to be completely yours though you understood and were always so supportive. However, you wondered why almost every story Clark covered, Superman happened to be involved in some way. The pieces started to present themselves to you though you struggled to make them fit.

In the middle of a Daily Planet gala, you knew it was rude to be so preoccupied by your cellphone, but you were reading a new article about a bank heist that Superman managed to stop. You scrolled all the way up to the byline and – to no surprise – found that it was written by the one and only Clark Kent.

“Read anything good?” Clark asked you, breaking you from your thoughts. You smiled before shoving your phone into your clutch.

“Just some article this geek I know wrote,” you joked, shaking your head. “But no, it was really good, but am I surprised?”

“High praise coming from you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss onto your temple. “How about I get you a drink?”

“That sounds lovely,” you nodded before he walked away.

“Clark’s girl I take it?” You turned around and saw a man – probably a few years older than you.

You smiled and nodded. “(Y/N).” You introduced and offered him your hand.

He gladly took it, giving it a small shake. “Daniel Smith.” Your brow slightly furrowed – though keeping a kind smile – when he refused to let go of your hand. Instead, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto your knuckles.

You chuckled awkwardly, yanking your hand away. “So, you work here or you a guest, too?” You were glancing around the room, searching for Clark. You found him across the room at the open bar. When your eyes finally met, you saw that he was already looking over with a look of concern.

“Work here,” Daniel answered. “You know, you’re really pretty.”

“Thanks?”

“Beautiful dress to show off ‘em gorgeous legs – like wowza.”

You cringed before taking a step back. “Thank you, but um, I should – “

“No, no, come stay and keep talking to me, pretty girl.”

You babbled on, sputtering out excuses like you need to powder your nose or find Clark or Lois, a friend you made through your boyfriend, but Daniel was insistent. Every time you’d take a step back, he’d take a step forward – only when he was too close to you, you smelled the alcohol in his breath.

When Daniel became bold enough to reach out and grab you again, Clark was at your side immediately. Clark pulled you behind him before lightly shoving Daniel, causing the drunk man to stagger a few steps back.

“What’s your problem, man!” Daniel slurred.

“I’m sure her numerous attempts to flee from you went unheard, so I’ll make it clear for you,” Clark snapped. “Leave. Her. Alone.”

“Clark, let’s go,” you muttered, pulling at his arm. You didn’t want to make a scene – especially not at his workplace with all his superiors looking on. But he didn’t budge. It was as if his feet were cemented to the floor.

“Why, Kent? You afraid I can whisk your pretty little girlfriend away?” Daniel chuckled. He walked right up to your boyfriend. You found it quite odd how this man thought he could take Clark – who was over six feet tall, broad, and downright massive – on.

Daniel had shoved Clark’s shoulders, but again, the Kryptonian didn’t move. He just cocked his head to the side in a mocking manner. “I think you need to head home, Smith. You’re clearly drunk.”

For some odd reason, Daniel’s drunk mind thought it was a good idea to throw a punch at the Kryptonian. Without blinking, Clark caught it. Daniel’s second punch – aimed at Clark’s cheek – landed, you were surprised when a strange cracking sound echoed through the room.

What surprised you even more was when Daniel reeled his hands back into himself, bracing the fist that landed the punch. Your eyes widened in shock before you looked over at your boyfriend who had a slightly remorseful look – though his eyes held a twinge of mischief as if saying, you deserved it.

“C’mon,” Clark muttered to you, grabbing your arm, and leading you out to the elevator. You both stood in silence, staring at one another as the little jingle played through the speakers. “Go ahead. Ask it.”

“What was that?” His brows raised, slightly amused. He was positive that you would ask another question.

“Some drunk idiot making a fool of himself.” Well, that was the truth.

“Clark ... that guy’s hand  – “ 

“Sprained probably. Not broken. He didn’t hit me that hard.” 

“But your head didn’t even move.” You frowned. 

“Go ahead. Ask it.” He repeated. Am I dating Edward Cullen now? You wondered to yourself. 

“Are you... Are you Superman?” 

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: Alex meets Willie at a coffee shop and they’ve been talking for a few weeks but Alex is afraid to admit anything of liking Willie. But his friends push him to and he finds out that Willie likes him back and they go on a date.

I combined this with a prompt from this amazing list because I thought it was funny. I didn’t include the actual date because I know nothing about skating but if enough people want it then I’d be more than happy to do a part two of this!

I also added Julie, Carrie, and Alex being best friends because we deserve it.

Batman and the Barista

Aside from his co-workers, there was not one single thing about working at Eats ‘n’ Beats that made Alex Mercer’s job there bearable. If the coffee machine wasn’t straight-up not working, it was spurting scalding water at him; the customers were generally speaking entitled and rude; his boss was so laid-back and carefree that it was painful and no problems in the workplace ever got solved; and the hours were ridiculous – for example, some days Alex worked from four a.m. until nine a.m. Who in their right mind wants coffee at four o’clock in the morning?

The only other thing – or rather, the only other person – that might have stood any chance of making Alex’s job worthwhile also made it worse. They would have been perfect if only for the fact that they wouldn’t tell Alex their goddamn name.

He was a regular at Eats ‘n’ Beats and seemed to come into the shop at least once on every one of Alex’s shifts. He was, in Alex’s eyes, utterly perfect – beautiful tawny skin, long dark hair sometimes twined into a bun at the base of his neck, and the most adorable smile Alex could imagine. It was downright unfair how attractive he was, and how funny, kind, and smart he was too.

If only he would tell Alex who he was.

Every single time he came in the shop, the guy ordered the same drink (hot chocolate with cream, marshmallows, sprinkles, the works) and every time Alex would ask for his name. Every single time he had received a different answer.

The first few times he had hardly noticed. The second time the guy came in the coffee shop he had told Alex his name was Horatio – Alex could have sworn his name had been Patrick the week before, but it was possible that he was misremembering, so he hadn’t thought anything of it. But the next time the guy came in his name had been Edmund. After that it had been Marcus, then Jason, then Rudy, Stewart, Bob, Milo. The names had got increasingly weirder; just yesterday Alex had scrawled Megamind on the guy’s to-go cup. Before that it had been Sherlock.

As lovely as the guy was, Alex often found himself complaining to his friends about him and his lack of naming consistency, usually on his too-short breaks.

“He just seems like a really cool guy,” he was saying to his co-workers Carrie and Julie one day as they all sat around a small, cramped table in the staff room. “I’d really like to get to know him but he seems intent on me not knowing him at all!”

Alex could practically hear Carrie rolling her eyes. “We know you’d like to get to know him,” she muttered, “it’s all you ever talk about.”

“That’s not true,” Alex protested. “I talk about other things!”

“Like what?” Carrie asked, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow.

“Like the band,” Alex returned.

Julie shook her head. “Only if I bring it up first. And your contribution is usually something along the lines of ‘I wish coffee shop guy would come to one of our gigs, how cool would that be?’”

“That’s not– I– okay.” Alex sighed, then said under his breath, “Although it would be kinda cool if he did come to one of our shows.”

Carrie sighed dramatically. “You are so far gone it’s painful to listen to.”

“Just ask him out,” Julie said, smiling fondly. “I see the way he grins at you when he gives you a ridiculous fake name – his smile is so wide it practically falls off his face!”

“I don’t want to ask him out,” Alex lied. It wasn’t as if a lie like that could work on Julie and Carrie anyway; they both rolled their eyes and crossed their arms, eerily in sync with each other. “I don’t! I just want to get to know him.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Julie said.

“No. I wanted to get to know you guys without wanting to date you.”

“That’s because you’re gay,” Carrie said matter-of-factly, “and Julie and I are, correct me if I’m wrong, girls.”

“That’s fair,” Alex conceded. “But I don’t want to ask him out.”

Julie patted his hand. “Sure, Alex.”

A few minutes later, their break ended and the three friends made their way back out front to the shop. It was bustling and busy, and the co-worker Alex took over from on the register looked one customer away from breaking down into a mess of tears.

Alex, Julie, and Carrie (each manning their stations either on the cash register, at the coffee machine, or calling orders) started working, getting drinks and snacks for everyone. In the first five minutes, only one person yelled at Alex for accidentally spelling their name wrong on the cup, which passed as a good five minutes in his book.

Alex wouldn’t deny that he was watching the door, waiting for someone specific to come in. So maybe he was a little distracted, and maybe he did mess up a few orders or names, and maybe he could feel Julie and Carrie fondly glaring at him for being a little bit elsewhere, but it wasn’t really his fault. It was entirely Cute No-Name’s fault and if asked that was exactly who Alex would blame.

Eventually, with only ten minutes to go until closing time when the customers had dwindled down to just one or two every few minutes, the door swung open and the guy finally came in. There was something a little different today, and Alex’s throat went dry when he saw it – Cute No-Name had a skateboard tucked under his arm and removed his helmet as he entered the shop.

There was no queue at this hour, so he sauntered right up to Alex, a wide smile on his face.

“Hey, hotdog,” the guy said. It was a name he’d started using for Alex after seeing that one of the many things he had embroidered on his work apron was a hotdog (right between the rainbow flag and the drumsticks). Alex didn’t like the nickname, but No-Name couldn’t be stopped.

“Hey,” Alex replied, clearing his throat. “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good,” No-Name replied. “You?”

“Yeah, yeah, great,” Alex said. He was aiming for a casual tone, but judging by Carrie and Julie’s poorly masked snickers he was not doing a very good job. “You want the usual?”

“Yeah, thanks, man,” the guy said. “To-go, please.”

Alex nodded, punching the price into the cash register and giving the guy his total. After he had been paid, Alex picked up a to-go cup and a permanent marker, turning to No-Name again. “So, what’s your name today?”

No-Name considered for a moment, then grinned. Maybe Julie was right, Alex thought – nobody could find this whole thing so funny that they’d smile that wide.

“I’m Batman,” the guy said. The worst part was that he did the voice too.

Alex groaned and shook his head, fighting a smile as he scrawled ‘Batman’ on the cup. “Of course you are. Carrie,” he called over his shoulder, holding the cup out. “This guy’s usual, please.”

Carrie didn’t take the cup. Instead, giggling along with Julie, she said, “Sorry, but who is ‘this guy’?”

“Carrie,” Alex said warningly.

“Who is he, Alex?” Julie asked, face bright with laughter.

“Not you too,” Alex said. Carrie, Julie, and No-Name were all properly laughing now. “I seriously can’t be the only one who doesn’t find this funny.”

“What’s his name, Alex?” Carrie asked between laughs.

Alex scowled at her. “Batman.”

Finally, Carrie took the cup and started making ‘Batman’s’ drink. Alex, shaking his head exasperatedly, turned back to face No-Name.

“Can I ask what your actual name is?” he said while Julie and Carrie were distracted by throwing marshmallows at each other, clearly not listening. “Genuinely. Because you always give a fake or different name and I… I mean, I just want to know who you really are.”

No-Name’s beam faded to a smaller, more delicate, warmer smile. “Sure, hotdog. It’s Willie.”

It was really that easy? All he’d had to do this whole time was ask?

“Really? No joking around this time?” The guy nodded. Alex thought for a moment and then said, “Willie what?”

Willie shrugged and leaned on the counter. He wasn’t that close, but Alex felt as if they were practically nose-to-nose. He wouldn’t have admitted how much that made his heart race.

“It depends,” Willie said. “What’s yours?”

Alex furrowed his brow, confused, but still said, “It’s Mercer.”

The mischievous grin was back. Willie straightened up and said, “Well, in that case, hopefully one day it’ll be Willie Mercer.”

Alex felt his jaw drop, heard Julie gasp, and heard Carrie not-so-quietly utter a swear.

Willie was the only one who seemed unaffected. He beamed over at Carrie, saying, “Is my drink nearly ready? I’ve got a skatepark to get to.”

With shaking hands, Carrie passed Willie his drink, and after they’d all said their goodbyes she slapped Alex’s arm. Repeatedly. Hard.

“He likes you,” she hissed. She almost sounded angry, but Alex knew that she was simply passionate about something potentially going right in his love life for once. “He totally likes you!”

“You think so?” Alex asked sceptically. “Because he could have just been joking–”

Julie scoffed. “That guy’s idea of a joke is giving a fake name at a coffee shop, not the implication of marriage.”

Alex couldn’t help it. He let himself smile and felt himself blush.

“So,” Julie continued, “will you ask him out now?”

Alex looked at the floor, still smiling sheepishly. “I’ll think about it,” he mumbled through his smile.

In the end, it didn’t really take much thinking about. Willie came in again the next day, even though it was one of Alex’s four-til-nine shifts. At six a.m. on the dot, Willie pushed the door open, the only customer in the shop.

“Hey, hotdog,” he greeted as usual, coming over and leaning against the counter.

“Hey, Willie,” Alex returned, smiling. He couldn’t believe he had a real name to use for this guy now; it made his heart beat in a way that was far too over the top for the situation. Without asking what Willie wanted or for a name to put on his cup, he set about making the drink. “You went skating yesterday, right? How was it?”

Willie grinned, fiddling with a ribbon on a charity collection tub. “It was fun. I mastered a trick I’ve been trying to learn for months. Have you ever skated?”

“Yep,” Alex said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Loads of times.”

Willie laughed. Alex adored the sound, and the way Willie’s eyes crinkled with his smile as he giggled. He felt his heart beat even faster. “So that’s a no. Maybe I could teach you sometime.”

“I’m not sure you really want to do that,” Alex said, handing over the drink, the name ‘Willie’ written on the side of the cup. “I don’t think I’m exactly badass skater material.”

“Still,” Willie said with a shrug. “It’d be fun. And we could make it a date. If you want.”

Yet again, Alex felt his jaw drop. “Wait, really? You want to… okay. You want to go on a date with me?”

Willie said nothing, just smiled brightly.

“I… I mean, yeah,” Alex continued, feeling very flustered, overwhelmed by the butterflies in his stomach. They were happy butterflies though – unnaturally happy. “Yeah, I also want to go on a date. With you. Thank you. People probably don’t say ‘thank you’ when they’re asked on a date, do they? That was probably weird, I’m sorry–”

Willie laughed and Alex stopped talking. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole world stopped, if the Earth ceased its spinning every time Willie made that sound.

“It’s a date,” Willie said, grinning. “Are you free today?”

Alex choked to find his voice and said, “Yeah, I finish at nine.”

“Cool, bro, I’ll be here to pick you up then. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” he returned. Once again, he wasn’t quite sure he hit his target of ‘coolly disinterested’ and instead landed at ‘so disinterested that it was obvious that he was interested’. “I’ll see you then.”

“Catch you later, hotdog,” Willie said, saluting as he left the coffee shop, the bell on the door ringing behind him.

Alex couldn’t help but do an excited little jump and something that might have passed for a happy dance, but there was nobody there to see him so it didn’t matter. He couldn’t wait to tell Julie and Carrie about this.