#lgbt reader

[kortsitron]

Insecurity

✮ PARING Loki Laufeyson × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS fluff, body dysmorphia, insecurity, comfort, body worship, mention of gender dysphoria, established relationship, jotun! loki, reassurance, soft fic, spicy but no smut, bottom! loki

✮ SUMMARY Loki was always insecure of his body and you're here to show that you love him regardless 

✮ A/N This honestly came randomly to me while taking a look at Loki's design in Marvel Rivals. I was so confused as to why he would have so much armor/clothing. Not only do we get a glimpse of his skin only on his face but he also seems to be wearing a lot of layers too. And then I remember he is a Frost Giant and then I could understand if he perhaps had some kind of insecurity because of that, after all it would make a lot of sense. So that's why here's the fic because Loki deserves all the comfort and love he can get <3

ao3 masterlist requests

Ever since you started dating Loki, you had never seemed naked. Never. 

You weren't going to make him undress if he clearly wasn't comfortable with it. You just accepted that he wasn’t comfortable with showing his body and you decided not to press in the issue. Even though you honestly wanted to.

You wanted to know what was going with your partner. Why was he hiding his body from you? He knew he could trust you, right?

You found him lying in bed, reading some Asgardian book while the lamp from the nightstand eliminated his sharp features. Whenever he was reading, he had a small frown on his forehead, so focused on the contents of the book. This time was no different.

You laid down next to him, watching as he was engrossed by the book, silently admiring him. The way his gorgeous green eyes were entranced by the words before him or the way his raven black hair had fallen onto his shoulders. Or they way he would quietly lick his lips without even noticing it.

But he turned to look at you, his hand putting the bookmark inside his book before closing it. “Are you bored, my darling?” He asked with a soft expression before putting away the book, his chilly fingers moving against your forehead to push the strands of your hair back where they belong.

You shook his head, Loki tilted his. “Then what is it? You look as if you require some attention.” His hand moved to cheek, gently caressing it.

“I was just wondering…” You spoke up and he hummed in response.

“Wondering, you say? Perhaps we can wonder together.” His tone was soft and encouraging. It made you even more nervous to ask.

“Why do you always… hide your body so much?” The words finally left your lips and your mind. You had been wondering for so long and now you wondered what kind of answer you were going to get. Was he going to lie to you?

Loki's smile fell almost instantly when he heard your question. His hand stopped its motions as he thought about how to answer you without revealing too much.

You saw the flash of fear in his eyes. “I-I do not…” He wanted to disagree, say you're imagining things or anything else to not have this conversation. But he knew he could not hide the truth from you. You were telling him everything, all your troubles. It was not right for him to hide something when he knew he could trust you.

He looked deep into your eyes as if searching for any reason why he should not share his insecurities with you. Any reason to have an excuse to not have this conversation. But he found none. 

Loki let out a sigh. “I do not feel good about my own body…” He finally admitted, and you were not sure what to say. In Loki's mind, the silence was stretching for hours, even though it was actually just a few seconds.

“I must–” He moved to stand up, leave the bed and you. He was scared you were judging him, even though he normally knew you would never.

You grabbed his wrist gently, stopping him from leaving. “No, Loki. Please, let's talk.” He saw the pleading expression on your face, how much you wanted to help him, make him feel okay.

He sat back down, his hand grabbed yours as he was seeking your reassurance and support. He couldn't find the strength to look into your eyes as looked down at your hand. 

“Ever since I found out I was a Frost Giant, I couldn't… I did not want anyone to see my body anymore. Especially knowing how Thor and Odin used to hate Jotunheim and its people.” He explained taking a small breath and continuing.

“Even despite the fact that I know neither of them hate Jotuns anymore, I… couldn't help but hate that I was not one of them… not a true Asgardian like everyone around. How I could not fit it, always feeling like there was something wrong about me and I couldn't understand why.”

He finally looked up at you, so miserable and hurt. You knew he was Frost Giant, he told you so yourself and you never minded. But you didn't think it would be a reason for his insecurity.

“You're still the most gorgeous person in my eyes. And that won't change, that I can promise you.” You let go of his hand to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, leaning a soft kiss to your palm.

“Would you let me show you how much I adore you?” Your time was soft and the question caught Loki off guard.

Once more, he wanted to disagree. But at the same time, the thought of you showing how much you adored him sent a shiver down his spine.

“Yes, please.” His tone was a little husky, his eyes watching you, awaiting for what you were going to do.

You let go of his face, he was already missing your touch. Your hands moved to his shoulders, wanting to take off his robe. Your eyes found his, watching for any sign that you should stop. But you didn't, you only found anticipation.

You slowly slide the robe down his shoulders, his pale skin revealed to your eyes. His breathing hitched, he felt watched, but not judged.

“You're so pretty…” You whispered, wanting to reassure him. He felt so cold, but not in an unpleasant way. You saw him shiver beneath your touch and you smiled softly.

As his robe was finally off, you gently pushed him back on his. Your hand slided down his chest as you decided to speak up.

“I know how it feels when you're not happy with your body. Feeling how your body does not feel right, hiding it because you don't want anyone to see it.” You said softly. Loki needed to know he wasn't alone.

Loki's hands moved to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know, my darling. I'm glad to know I am not alone.” One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

“Kiss me, dearest…” He whispered before your lips met his in a slow, gentle kiss.

As the two of you kissed, you felt something under your fingers and as your eyes fluttered open, you saw Loki in his true form.

Blue skin with some lighter marks and lines, and the most beautiful crimson eyes you've ever seen.

“Wow…” You whispered, eyes widening as you took in the view. He was lovely and perfect just the way he was.

“I hope the view is to your liking.” His voice was quiet, with a hint of insecurity.

You let out a soft chuckle. “It is to my liking. As you are as a whole.” Leaning down, you kissed his neck, a soft whimper falling from Loki's lips. And you slowly went down. You kept kissing him, giving him little appreciative touches here and there. You saw how he was letting go, relaxing under your touch. 

You could practically feel him melt under your touches and kisses. His soft, cold skin felt so perfect under your lips. Whimpers and soft moans falling from his lips, along with your name. He kept repeating it almost as if it was a prayer.

“Don't stop, my love…” He breathed out, his fingers tangling itself in your hair. 

“I am not playing on doing so…” Another soft moan escaped his lips as you said that, kissing down his stomach. It was going to be a very long night.

[romanarose]

Banner by @winniethewife

Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024

Hello friends!

Let's try this again and I'll try to be more clear to not invoke discourse. That being said, it is *my* event and if you'd like to run one a certain way, go nuts. However, this is how I'm doing it.

I had a lot of fun doing Dead Dove December and the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event so I decided I wanted to do an event for pride this year! I know it seems far away right now, especially given how many of us in north America are still cold af, but I wanna give everyone time!

Each week of pride will have a theme to write or draw for (you don't have to do all of them! Think of it like kinktober.) at the end, I will put out a masterlist (or multiple depending how many)so we can all share each other's work.

Why?

Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal are both allies to LGBT people, Pedro having played multiple queer rolls and having likened his sexuality to that of Prince Oberyn. Despite none of the characters being canon queer, Triple Frontier specifically lends itself to queer stories. Recently, theres been a rise in stories of Oscar characters in relationships or Pedro characters in relationships which I love.

What I'd really like to do is encourage people to think past x fem!reader or canon presentation of characters. I want to encourage gay, lesbian, bisexual relationships, trans readers, trans interpretations of characters etc. More content guidelines will be in the what section.

Where?

Primarily tumblr.com, our very own shithole hellsight. However, especially given tumblr's censorship vs. twitter, I am encouraging posting on twitter or wherever you'd like. If you post something elsewhere, send me a link or send me a post you made about it on tumblr and I'll promote the link.

Additionally if you only write on ao3, I'd love for you to participate too! Once again, just send the link!

When?

in order to do the week by week themes and hold all of June, there will be 6 weeks from May 26th-July 6th

Each week will have themes. I won't be policing the weeks and these so if you do the 1st week on july 3rd, that's fine. The themes are keeping in mind both artists and writers. I only got one artist for DDD, a great piece and I've love to see more! Ideas are just for spit balling, do your own take!

May 26th-June 1st: Coming out. Ideas: Coming out to family, lover, friend. Finding gender affirming clothes/hair, first pride

June 2nd-8th: Transitioning Ideas: Surgary, surgery scars, starting T or E, binding (safely!!!)

June 9th-15th: Sex/kissing First time together, first time with certain biology or the same sex, sweet kisses, smut showing scars,

June 16th-22nd: Food, fashion, fun

All things queer culture and culture of different religions, racial or country backgrounds, queer fashion, gender affirming clothes, Keshet (קשת), listening to Lady Gaga or Bruce Springsteen, watching a queer movie

June 23rd-29th: Struggles Rejection, reconciling faith and identity, missing family that rejected one, comfort, candlelight vigil, day of remembrance.

June 30th- July 6th:Strength Asserting ones or a partner/friend/family's pronouns, standing up against hate, being loudly and proudly yourself, pride events

Who?

Writers and artists in any form are welcome. I also want to encourage working with each other, writers and artists together!

For characters: Any Oscar Isaac or Pedro Pascal character has to at least be in the relationship. Other characters in universes can be done, such as FishBen.

Reader can be anyone, just properly tag! If you want to come out to Marc Spector as bisexual, do it!!! If you want Joel to take care of you after top surgery, do it!

YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE QUEER TO PARTICIPATE!

However! Please do your research if writing or drawing an identity not yours. There are trans, nonbinary, gay, lebian etc bloggers all over tumblr who write about their experience, please divert to first person testimonies rather than assumptions.

What?

A few rules

MUST contain more than male character x fem!reader. Male character x fem!reader x male character does not count unless the two male characters are romantically or sexually involved or one or the reader is trans. Any Q's, dm me!

This is not a dark event. I'm not going to be policing the content matter but I really want to primarily focus on the pride. However, as a bisexual, gender non-conforming person I know a lot of pain can still be involved. What we are not doing is suicide, death, self-harm, or non consensual activity. If you have questions or would like to make a case for something, just dm me!

This is not inherently NSFW, but there is absolutely NSFW allowed. Always tag everything properly.

The usual no's like bestiality, incest, underage nsfw etc

As far as minor characters, SFW MINOR CHARACTERS IS ALLOWED. You can write or draw lgbt themes because being LGBT is not inherently sexual. For example, teenage Santi coming out as trans to Frankie or your own version of Ellie and Joel's talk about Ellie and Dina kiss. That being said, I'd prefer to reserve this to teens. Again, any questions or ideas that don' quite fit into parameters, just ask!

As always, I am allowed to use my discretion. If I do not want to include something, I won't. However, I know that there are rifts in the fandom. I won't be excluding you out of personal bias. As long as I don't have you blocked and you haven't plagerized or done something really bad to people, you'll be included. I'm not letting petty beefs get in the way. Harmful actions will, however. I need to protect my peace and keep

NO REAL PERSON FANFICTION. Do not write about Oscar Isaac or Pedro pascal being gay or trans and do not make any assumptions about their sexuality or gender identity. Oscar is happily married to a woman and Pedro has expressed his sexuality is like that of Oberyn Martell but has not elaborated much further, nor should he have to. Just leave ‘em be. You can speculate elsewhere but that’s not what this event is for.

How?

Simply tag me, @romanarose and use the #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 please please please use BOTH so it's easier for me to find!!!

When the event is over, much like DDD I will compiled them into a masterlist and posted. This is a chance for every blog, big and small, to get a moment in the sun and to share each others works! Remember, reblogging, comments, and interacting is what makes this a community! I want to create an environment that is welcoming and we all help each other.

Please feel free to reach out to me for any questions or clarification!

However, if you go issues with me writing men kissing, chracters being trans, queer readers etc, I'm not really open to debate.

~A nonbinary bisexual <3

[inkpot909]

The Entire Group Having Feelings for the Reader Headcanons (Bucciarati’s Gang)

↳ Fem!Reader; pronouns aren’t specified but is written as a girl. Reader is around Bruno and Abbacchio in age. Their sexuality is undefined, but is written as liking women. It’s made clear the Reader is not interested in anyone on the team/doesn’t reciprocate anyone’s feelings.

Summary: Having once been the newbie on Bucciarati’s team, a certain amount of unwanted attention was to be expected from your peers. However, the reactions to your inclusion on the team were more than you bargained for.

Warning(s): None.

The first one you’re going to catch harboring a little crush is most likely Narancia. Still young, he heard there would be a girl joining the group and his interest was immediately peaked. Weirdly enough, Bruno was quite keen on brushing past that fact.

One small comment from Giorno- feeling the need to point out how Narancia was considerably less friendly towards him his first week -and it was soon obvious to you what was going on here.

In all honestly, everyone knew right away and no one took it seriously. It was difficult for the others to not notice, considering Narancia would follow you everywhere and take every possible opportunity to include you in something.

The dismissiveness of his feelings also came from you yourself; to the point where it only ever crossed your mind if someone else made a jab at Narancia’s expense.

You did scold the others for making comments about it though, finding it insensitive. Sure, the age gap is a clear enough indication nothing will ever come of it, but you don’t go out of your way to be rude.

Only once did you have to not-so-subtly turn him down. He never really acted on it, but he did have the tendency to showing off for you whenever he could.

One particular occasion of him doing so, Fugo had made a snide remark at Narancia’s expense. “Oh, please, you’re only doing this because you like her. It’s embarrassing,” he told him outright.

Sensing a possible fight, you laughed it off and said affectionately, “Leave him alone! He’s just being sweet. Besides, nothing’s ever gonna happen. He’s like a brother to me.”

Could you have handled it better? Probably. Was that a blow to Narancia’s confidence? Definitely. Did it articulate your feelings in manner he could understand? Most certainly.

He’s a nice kid, you recall thinking on the matter, Someone’s gonna fall head over heels for him someday. Guys like him always find genuine love.

Little did you know at the time, there were other reasons as to why no one else took Narancia’s affections all too seriously.

The next one you noticed catching feelings was Mista. However, this time around the realization was abrupt and much more difficult for you to brush off.

Sitting next to him on Bucciarati’s couch, you’d been relaxing together one afternoon.

It was the first time you two ever had done so; much to your excitement. Your heart swelled with hope, internally eager to soon be considered a part of their little family.

Then he just had to try putting an arm around you.

Your attitude over responding to Mista’s advances is notable compared to the others, because he acts very specifically towards you. He openly and clearly flirts. And a forward approach warrants a forward rejection. It’s an attitude you remember Abbacchio positively commenting on.

You turned your head, hands motionless on your lap. Yet your eyes were fueled with firm resolve, a slight squint to them.

“No thank you,” is what you simply said, more than enough for him to remove his arm and even put a few more inches between the both of you.

That honesty is respected by him, though. It causes him to change his approach for a while. And at some point, he likely realized you’re not looking for anything like that from him.

Regardless, both him and Narancia still continue to follow you around like lost puppies. Clambering for your attention and approval.

The closeness at least formed a genuine friendship with the two, one that you truly hold dear. And if the lack of any confessions is any indication, they appreciate it as well.

And where those two go, Fugo is usually following close behind them with a sour look on his face.

You just had to laugh; the trio was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Narancia and Mista welcomed you with open arms, much to Fugo’s clear annoyance. He was put off by their quick acceptance of you, likely being one of the first to point out that it’s ‘because you’re a girl.’

What really seemed to set him off initially was that they started including you in the three’s tiny click within the group as a whole. Now it isn’t just the three of them anymore, there’s a forth person taking up space.

Wouldn’t suggest mentioning it to Mista or he may genuinely consider kicking Narancia to the curb.

Eager to please, as well as apologize for disrupting this friend group’s dynamic, you tried your hardest to see eye-to-eye with Fugo.

Fortunately, the only difficult part was finding things to talk about after some time passed and he begrudgingly accepted that you were there to stay. After that, it was a slow but natural progression.

Soon, he seemed to tolerate your presence much better. Then, he started instigating conversations with you instead of it strictly being the other way around. Once enough of a bond was established, you’d started getting the impression he would much rather spend time with you than the other two.

Like with Mista, the realization hit you while sitting right next to him. It was out of the blue, as Fugo hadn’t said a word to you that day. No, your mind was just wandering and happened to connect the dots.

Well, shit. You had laughed out loud, earning confused looks from the three around you.

You were honestly concerned; more so than with the others. You couldn’t brush it off as easily as you could with Narancia, as Fugo’s timidness on the matter could mean he’d just become upset. Couple that with his short temper, and you feared you could lose his friendship over it.

Your worries were proven to be unfounded, luckily. After some discussion with Narancia and Abbacchio, you learned Fugo doesn’t actually want anything from you.

You’re silently thankful, happy to coexist with him just as normal. He could have his little crush, and still hold onto a very real friendship. Quite mature of him, but never something you’d never compliment him on directly.

In fact, thinking of Fugo makes you reminiscent of Giorno’s admittedly weird style of approach.

By then you had said… what, maybe two or three sentences in total to the kid? But out of the blue, one morning, you passed him while leaving the house.

He stopped you in your tracks, holding out his hand in front of you and keeping you still. For a moment, he was silent. But before you could open your mouth and ask him “What’s wrong?” he beat you to the punch.

You… admittedly don’t remember exactly what he told you. Something poetic about your beauty… yeah. It was the type of sentiment that was thought out thoroughly beforehand.

Still, despite feeling guilty over not remembering, it’s easy to assume it doesn’t really matter. Considering he completely went radio silent on the subject afterwards.

Perhaps he just felt like he really needed to say something before moving on, you figured.

And honestly, credit where credit is due, both Giorno and Fugo kept their distance. Enough to express it was a simple crush and nothing more. You were glad you never had to vocally turn them down, because they already understood you weren’t the one for them.

You entertained the idea of them maybe bonding over it. Talking about girls while they braid each other’s hair, you giggled to yourself, amused by the thought.

Speaking of bonding, through almost it all, Abbacchio was your rock.

It was a rough start with him, no question. For the first couple of weeks he was very critical of your decisions on missions and outside of them rarely gave you even a passing glance.

But he gradually became your scapegoat when the others were tripping over themselves for your time. Even Bruno insisted on getting his far share of time with you.

You had came to Abbacchio first, confinding in him and taking his advice very seriously. That was something he appreciated. Abbacchio’s casual attitude was a breath of fresh air when you really needed it, and was surprisingly understanding of your viewpoint (The prospect of possibly upsetting Giorno’s got to factor into that, right?).

The two of you mostly spend time together one-on-one, whether in deep conversation or comfortable silence. The foundation of your friendship was born from complaining, but you found other subjects to focus on as well.

It was, with hindsight, the most shocking development yet. Out of everyone there, you weren’t expecting to become close to Abbacchio… ever, really.

The closer you got, the more you were able to appreciate his character. He’s got a surprisingly good sense of humor, and looks after everyone on the team more than he’s given credit for. Most of all, he’s a really good listener if you’re completely h-… Are you… are you kidding me? What is happening?

You actually doubted your guess this time around for a good while; it’s far too absurd! Abbacchio’s a reserved individual, so it wasn’t as noticeable after all.

But conversations with the others made it all too clear. They knew him better than you, and when it comes to Abbacchio, no one is going to lie about his feelings just for the sake of it.

Regardless, like Giorno and Fugo, he kept his lips sealed whenever you’re around.

You felt a good amount of guilt having vented to him in the past, but if he wasn’t saying anything, you weren’t going to either.

By the time you one day received word that Bucciarati wished to speak to you in private, you seriously contemplated ditching him entirely. However, you respected the man too much to do so.

It’s an ungodly hour, you point out helplessly to yourself. I have no idea what on earth he wants to talk to me about right now, and at this point I don’t even want to know.

Your mental ramblings pause in tandem with your feet, stopping firmly in front of your boss’s office door. You shiver, pulling your robe over your front to the point of overkill. Peaking between the bottom of the door and the floor below, you smile upon seeing light still illuminating from within.

Yes, it’s an ungodly time. But both Bucciarati and I work late at night often anyways, you reason. With that in mind, you knock gingerly.

You hear a gentle “Come in,” from within the room. Smiling, you already feel Bucciarati’s aura of comfort. Entering, you spot him hunched over behind his desk. A laptop sits open on its wooden surface, but his attention’s been turned away by now.

“Apologies for asking you to come here so late,” he chuckles, returning your pleasant expression.

“It’s not very professional of you, Capo,” you jest lightheartedly. Moving swiftly, you sit yourself down on a chair placed opposite to him.

“Fair enough,” he decides, crossing his legs. “How’s your day gone, tesoro?”

You hum, contemplating his question. It’s sweet; something he always asks whenever he can. Thinking of Abbacchio, then everyone else in turn, you barely give yourself another chance to breathe while you lay out all that you’ve experienced thus far.

You loved the team, but you’d be lying if you said everyone’s affection wasn’t getting to you a little. Most of all, you worried how their feelings could effect the team as a whole. And ever since discovering how Abbacchio feels, you haven’t had anyone to discuss it with anymore.

You weren’t sure if Bruno could really do anything about it. Hell, you didn’t know if you really wanted him to. Just to talk about it unfiltered was enough weight taken off your shoulders.

Minutes pass before your voice dies down, taking in short breathes. With wide eyes, you stare at Bucciarati expectantly. However, much to your discomfort, he remains silent. His head is tilted away from you and down at his desk, pupils remaining fixated in one position. It’s a clear sign he’s in deep thought, something you’re wary of disturbing.

A moment is too long for you to wait, quick to become self conscious over your word-vomit.

He clears his throat, catching your full attention once more. Adjusting the front of his collar, his eyes were glued to your own. During a mission it would be grounding, or maybe even a little intimidating. Any other time it would be comforting. Now, the nervous energy pouring from his person offers the exact opposite.

Quietly, he simply says, “…Maybe we should talk another time, then.”

At that point, you didn’t know why you were shocked. Leaving his office, there was no doubt.

Bruno was fair, not the type to ever play favorites with anyone on the team. But upon reflection, you realize he dotes on you in a special way.

Not only did he accept and voice your place on the team almost immediately, but he seemed to request your presence during peaceful moments just as much as anyone else in the group.

And by the time you new about everyone else, that should have been a dead giveaway.

Fights or arguments had over you is never something you’ve seen for yourself. According to Narancia and Abbacchio, they do happen. The how and why is kept so vague you almost believed they were just pulling your leg.

The last time it was talked about, there was no more room for doubts on whether or not they actually occurred.

Bruno happened to be present when Narancia was talking to you about it. He was quick to step in, downplaying whatever goes on during those arguments. After that, he silenced the discussion entirely.

You were a little disappointed the subject suddenly became taboo after that day, but was also quite grateful. It was clear he took your worries very seriously, considerate of your comfort with the rest of the team.

But time marches on, making the first year with Passione feel like a lifetime ago.

You long became a part of their found family, and the idea of the others crushing on you hardly ever floats around in your brain anymore.

And when it comes to the members you’re close to in age, all thoughts of “What if…” or “Just maybe…” eventually fizzle out from their minds as well.

How could they persist? Especially after one day, when you came home from a lunch out with an old friend of yours. Smiling wide and blushing from head to toe, you couldn’t help but cheerfully tell the group about the person you now happily call your girlfriend.

[r3dkn0ts]

I wanted to start something on my own ( the ask box is open pls send requests I am bored ) and got inspired reading some prompts, so here's the DBD Killers' reactions to getting horribly flirted with! Including some of my own pick-up lines because I'm bad at flirting

Badly Flirting with The DBD Killers: Part 1 Featuring Evan MacMillan, Philip Ojomo, and Max Thompson Jr.

Themes: GN!Reader being cringe, an attempt at comedy, slight fluff, and implied smut Warnings: Canon-typical violence

The Trapper / Evan MacMillan - You got cornered while injured with no other survivors nearby. Shit. Might as well give it a shot, right? - "Hey, are you a hundred dollar bill on the ground? Because I'd pick you up and spend every bit of you immediately." - Your voice was wavering as you said it, even though you tried to look as nonchalant as possible. - Evan's loud puffing behind his mask made the silence even more deafening. Was he gonna mori you now? Probably. - "Nice try", was the only thing he said in his rough accent before swiftly downing you and putting you on a sacrificial hook. - He definitely wasn't going to admit that your pick-up line made him chuckle a bit inside of his head, or that it made you look cute. - He couldn't stop thinking about that for a while.

The Wraith / Philip Ojomo - Trapped in a corner in the garage at Gas Heaven, your friend Ace had dared you to finally confront The Wraith about how you felt the next time you met him in a trial, even supplying you with a pick-up line. - You certainly weren't one to back down from a challenge! This was stupid. - "Are you a fine wine? Because I'd love to taste you." - Philip stared down at you blankly, darting his stark white eyes between the concrete floor and your face. - Had you actually flustered him? Body language was all you really had to go off of, and the fingers on his right hand were twitching. - Before you knew it, he rang his bell to cloak and darted out of the building, leaving you alone in the cold garage. - Did you offend him? What if he's already in a relationship? Ah fuck, you didn't think of that. - You didn't know it, but he watched you run out of the exit gate, cloaked. You didn't even see him for the rest of the trial. He was too embarrassed to face you any time soon. - Much to his surprise, that was the first time he had ever gotten physically aroused after being taken into the fog. He had business to take care of after you left.

The Hillbilly / Max Thompson Jr. - The three other survivors were sacrificed. You thought you were about to get chainsawed in half, but he stopped revving when you looked like you were about to say something to him. He was curious. - "Hey, if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber!" - Your comment made him tilt his head to the side like a confused puppy and lower his chainsaw. Did you just compliment him? Why? - His second assumption was that someone had dared you to compliment him as a joke. He was always the butt of the joke, so why would anyone actually compliment him? He's hideous! - You noticed him getting caught up in his head, so you took a chance and gently placed a hand on the deformed flesh of his arm. He flinched a bit and looked back down at you. - "Are you okay? I really did mean that. I think you're cute." - Max simply stared at you in silence. He was really, really confused. Were you serious? You sounded serious. - He looked back down at the hand you still had on his arm. You went to take it back, scared he was angry, but he grabbed your wrist as you did and pulled your smaller hand into his. - For a moment, he just looked at your hand. Your skin felt so nice against his. He had never felt someone touch him unless it was meant to hurt him. He liked this new feeling. - For once, Max felt himself smiling. He knew he had to let you go, though. So he let you leave through the hatch after you promised him you'd visit him later.

[magnoliabutters]

• THE BANISHED ONES •

pairing: eddie munson x (he/him) reader

summary: nothing beats your first day at hawkins high. you meet your guide, munson, along the journey...

warnings: 18+ content & characters, minors dni, adult language; set in 1983-4, reader nicknamed "j," fluff comfort, fist fight, bullying, heavy petting, pb&j?, nasty food, make out sesh, peer pressure, novice reader, dungeons & dragons discussed (of course), eddie dom, slight mentions of violence and anxiety, almost caught, y/l/n: 1, eventual smut, references to previous parts, semi-public, detailed oral (reader & munson receiving), after care, internal dialogue, consent discussions, so far…

word count: ~14.5k so far...

reblogs for sweet baby eddie! 👹

note: why hello! i missed this story so i'm coming back to add more just in time for pride month! originally, my plan was to close it out on part three but i had way too much fun writing soooo sorry not sorry ♥️ i hope you enjoy this sweet, sexy story as much as i do! this story is also heavily based into the world and game of dnd!

• part one • the demon's stronghold •

• part two • business first •

• part three • i think we’re alone now •

• part four • munson’s guiding light •

• part five • coming soon •

comment and/or reblog if you'd like to join the taglist!

taglist: @wolfiescosplay, @eddiesprettygirl, @unholycheesesnack, @wrandomwritting, @amberolivia666, @migwayne, @lilpotatobean2, @seatnights, @moonofblindness, @hells-glory-hole (incredible name btw), @teaandpsychiatry, @siddunbi, @sad1st1c-wh0re, @sittinonvogues, @79chevyimpala, @priviatepost, & @cl0wnbehavior

• series • updates •

[ghoulishbuck]

What are somethings you wish more bookish people would do or talk about?

I’d love to see more people go secondhand book shopping, using a library including footage from inside the library, reading challenges, and trying books out of their comfort zone.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Babe Across The Bar [LGBT+ Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: Feminine LGBT+ reader who expresses romantic/sexual attraction for more than just men. HOMOPHOBES BEGONE! List is primarily TBB centric, with a few bonus Clones. Minor suggestive content/dialogue. Pining. Gay Panic™. Mentions of alcohol. Sprinkling of Mando'a. Minor language. There's one line that could be interpreted as the reader experiencing being outed against her will, but kept vague in Tech's section of these snapshot scenarios. Hardcase's section deals with homophobes. Doesn’t follow the typical headcanons put into bullet points format because I ended up being a little too inspired for these! Some of these also deviated from the original prompt, but I feel they still relate enough to warrant inclusion. 

Word-count: 4,694

Prompt: How would the boys (any boys, all the boys, whomever boys) react to their gal friend/crewmate and/or feminine S/O commenting on how stunning another girl is?

Hunter (Crewmate offering to be your wingman) 

His eyes often flit to the door whenever someone walks in out of habit in large part to his senses. Keeping an eye on his surroundings. Things he was trained to do. So he notices the attractive woman who's just strolled in through the front entrance of 79's. Her clothing, her hair, her nails are all beautiful and immaculate.

And he notices how your breath hitches in your throat when you see her. But it's not insecurity or jealousy that made you do that. He's caught on for a while now that you "swing more than one way" as it were. But you've never been explicit in your words, or given him the big speech, so he's kept his mouth shut. If a member of his crew has something to tell him, he wants to give them a chance.  You're no different.

But the comment under your breath is enough to finally ask. "Oh Maker, she's gotta be one of the angels from Iego…" You've just compared her to the Diathim of Millius Prime, practically swooning. 

He takes a sip of his drink, eyes trained on the bombshell beauty you seem to be pining for. "You wanna go talk to her?" 

You shake your head rapidly at him, trying not to choke on the drink in your hands with the fruit-flavored and colorful, jelly-like particulate. (It's new to the novelty drinks menu at 79's, so Hunter's not sure how it tastes, but you seem to like it.) "Oh stars no!" Did he misread the situation before him, were you looking at her with jealousy after all? 

You sigh, putting your head in your hands with a groan. "She's so out of my league… She's probably only here for the troopers, anyways." you add solemnly, finally slumping forward in your seat at the bar top. Hunter sets down his glass and plants a steady hand on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. He's still getting to know you as a regular part of his squad, in all fairness, but he should have trusted his instinct. You did seem to have a thing for women. 

So maybe he could offer to help. 

"Well… if you've had enough liquid courage and want to try your luck, I'll be your wingman, cyar'ika." he says, giving you a friendly pat after slowly sitting up. You'll think about it, you murmur. 

You never end up making a move to so much as introduce yourself to her, much, much too nervous. At the end of the night, Hunter, who had tried to coax and encourage you several times throughout the night, just gives you another pat on the back. "Maybe next time, cyare. Don't feel too bad." As you walk back to the Marauder together, Hunter won't pressure you into it of course but he offers to help you practice for next time, if you think it'll cheer you up. As part of his squad, there'll always be the banter and the teasing of course, but Hunter will always offer to help.

Crosshair (Initially confused (+ insecure) partner)

Sight sharper than a knife, he was not quite afraid to check out the beautiful woman hanging off another Clone's elbow once upon a time. But now, with you, he keeps himself in check for the most part. You've briefly had that talk as a relatively new couple, that really it’s okay. It’s only natural to look. We’re all kriffing human, after all, aren’t we? The whole possessive ownership aspect is weird and icky to you, and you’re not gonna get yourself in a twist just because you catch him glancing at another woman. But he realizes there's probably something else you should have talked about together. 

You like women too, and you’re looking at them just as much. It's hard to miss by the fifth instance of a remark like "Oh, she's cute!" and subsequent gestures with your glass to indicate who you're looking at. He's trying so hard not to feel like you’re testing him. Like you’re playing some little game by calling his loyalty into question, just how “obedient” he’ll really be. "Oh, yeah?" There's a strange twist of discomfort in his guts that he can't figure out. Is he jealous? Is he upset? (Should he order something to eat from the overpriced appetizer menu?)

"Yeah, I mean, look at her," you invite him with a flashy smile, "she's cute!" 

He blinks at you with mild concern. He's heard alcohol brings out a different side in people, and he can't recall the full array of what you've had to drink. "Are you feeling alright?" He's unsure why he's so bothered. Is it because you're not paying attention to him? 

"Better than alright, Cross. What's wro-? Oh. Oh shit didn't I tell you?" you set down your drink with a soft laugh and an apology, face looking flushed in a way that has nothing to do with the red and purple club lights. "I, uh, I play for more than one team, romantically at least. I'm sorry if I never told you, Crosshair." 

He frowns for a split second, but he quickly answers that there's no need to apologize. He was a little confused at first sure (and perhaps slightly envious that you were commenting so openly on other people who weren't him), but he takes a look now at the woman you had indicated. She's not just cute, "Oh, the smoke show in the red dress?" 

"Yeah. That's the one." you nod approvingly, the movement slow and deliberate. "She's a stunner, ain't she?" Certainly is, he agrees. (One of his brothers sighs playfully and makes the remark that nights out to 79's, or any bar for that matter, will get a lot more interesting from now on.) 

The rest of the night carries on this way, you making the occasional glancing once-over of another trooper's arm-candy for the night, but most of your attention is given to Crosshair. You're with him for a reason. You know how to behave yourself, for kriff's sake. Any inkling of the horrible, hateful stereotypes of your orientation being true are so far from reality. You don't make passes at everyone you see. You keep your comments innocent and general if you decide to get a little gutsy and talk to one of them. 

The redhead's got curls to die for, what kind of product is she using?

That is such a cute dress (with pockets!) that you have to know where she got it, because you swear you've seen fashion like that on Naboo. 

Sorry if this is weird to ask but she's totally wearing a designer fragrance from one of the Core Worlds, right?  

By the end of the night, Crosshair is reassured that you're not playing any kind of game with him, and perhaps the two of you will be having another talk to smooth out any wrinkles he has in his understanding of your orientation; but you promise him over and over you're with him for a reason in case any of your comments tonight made him feel any doubt. Just because you swing more than one way does not mean you're going to leave in the event you feel a stronger preference for women for a while. You love him. 

And he wholly believes you. 

Wrecker (Your enthusiastic hype-man)

"Oh shit." You hunker down in the booth seat, wide-eyed and breathless.

Wrecker reflexively glances down at the casual fatigues he wore to 79's tonight instead of the dark red and gray armor he typically wears. "Wha'? Did I get dip on myself again?" He doesn't see anything, so he takes a look at you, and that's when he notices you practically halfway under the table. "Did you drop something? I can lift the table so it's easier to-!"

"No!" you blurt out, sitting up. "That won't be necessary! Don't lift the table!" 

You're starting to confuse him. "Then what's wrong?" 

"She's here." A slightly shaky finger is pointed across the Clone bar, where seated at the counter, is the woman who's only ever shown interest in the other girls often brought here, or the dancers. You've had a not-so-silent crush on her for ages but didn't want to go and try anything. Until last week when she turned down what must've been the hundredth trooper. "Sorry fellas, afraid I'm not interested. But you'd all definitely be my type if I was into men." Oh Maker you'd been a hopeless mess. 

The endless inner cycle of 'do I want to BE her, or do I want to be WITH her?' had finally sorted itself out in your head after that. 

Wrecker knew from the jump that your romantic and sexual interests did not begin and end with men when he caught you staring at the same woman as him in a dirty jumpsuit on the airfield. And then literally caught you when you tripped over Tech's box of tools in your distraction. Ever since, he's done his best to help you make a move over someone you were clearly feeling something for. 

"Go talk to her!" Wrecker encourages you, nudging your ribs with a careful elbow, "Say hi!" 

"Maker, I can't, she's so pretty a-and like-? Oh Wrecker I can't even explain it… It's like I look at her and I just-"

Wrecker chuckles softly, leveling you with a look that tells you he knows exactly what you mean. "Have trouble thinkin' straight because she's gonna be paying attention and you don't want to kark it up?" 

You bite your bottom lip so hard he's worried you'll make it bleed and get it all over your pretty little outfit. "Y-yes! I'm so nervous…" 

He tells you not to worry about it too much, you're overthinking it! "Introduce yourself, mesh'la. You'll kick yourself for days if you don't." Okay, okay, he's right. Here goes nothing, you say. You slip out of the booth seat and sidle up to the drinks counter under the notion of ordering another drink first, but your crush takes notice of you in her proximity, and all she manages is a pleasant hello before you're a grinning mess. Wow, you had it bad for her. You stammer through your introduction, and give her your name as you say it was nice to meet her, and sure, you'd love to chat while the drink slinger whips something up! 

In one of your many nervous glances around the club, he makes sure you get a clear view of his approving thumbs up. You're doing great! You end up talking to her for nearly forty-five minutes before she has to leave, she's got work in the morning, but she's scribbling something down on the bar top that Wrecker can't see. 

"Hey, look at you! You did it, kid!" Wrecker cheers as you walk back over to the booth in a daze, your eyes focused on the slip of flimsiplast in your hands. 

"Sh-she gave me her comm frequency… What does that mean?" 

Wrecker can only laugh. Oh man, guess even you will have your help-how-do-I-function-around-a-girl-I've-never-even-met-a-girl moments he's seen many Clones have. 

"I think that means she wants to keep talking to ya, ad'ika." 

"O-oh." Is all you simply say. "Holy kriff I did it. I talked to her." you add after a long, long pause as Wrecker adds the number into your contacts for you, just in case the flimsi gets wet and you end up losing the number before the night is over. 

"You sure did! I knew you could do it!" 

Tech (Not-so-surprised friend) 

To him, the fact that you have a romantic, perhaps even sexual interest in women is as obvious as the fact that the phenotypic eye color for (most) Clones is brown. 

That's simply just how it is, in his world. But he has extensively researched how significant a coming out is for people such as yourself who do not fall under a heteronormative scope. He does not ask. He does not hint to you that he knows. And if he has let it slip, he is careful to express that it is not a big deal. 

Not a big deal in the sense that he would end a friendship with you, or view you as if there was something "broken" and "defective" about you. That would be rather hypocritical of him after all. Well, sort of. He's more deviant than defective, because his genetic mutations do not hinder his ability to perform as a competent soldier of the GAR, and much like your inclinations, that is not something he has control over. He is simply a Clone from a "bad batch" much in the same way that you are a woman who fancies other women. 

If you were to even come out to him, he has already carefully considered what he would say to you. He values your friendship and your company. He would very much like to maintain this by saying the right thing. 

That he is glad that you trusted him enough to share such an important facet of yourself. That though, quite honestly, he has questions, he will save them for another time. That he understands you must be nervous, scared even, but he will never treat you any different than before you told him. And he most definitely will not tell you that he deduced this months ago. 

But blast him, when you sent him a message asking to meet up at 79's a little earlier before the typical meetup, he was so certain that this was the conversation. So he had been mentally coaching himself on what to say, but more importantly what not to say so much, that when you slipped into the booth and said "I wanna tell you something, Tech…" it slipped his mouth faster than a Mon Calamari in water. 

"That you like women?" 

Oh shit. Oh shitshitshit. That was the thing he was supposed to refrain from saying or asking! 

"Hah… Was I really that obvious? Did I worry for nothing?" You ask with a sincere laugh. You're not offended, or angry, or anything in the slightest. In fact, you look relieved. "...Tech?"

"I'm so sorry." is all he can offer. Oh Maker, he's so incredibly sorry, he tells you. He's robbed you of the chance to have a very significant conversation about what many deem unnatural, but in fact it's not; just before you joined him in their usual booth at 79's he was reading an admittedly rather heartwarming article about same-sex couples occuring in the galactic animal kingdom before you arrived, actually! (Everything from the little nuna to the mighty and magnificent purrgil!) But he's suspected this for some time and didn't think it was his place to ask. He's sorry he's ruined this chance for y-

You interrupt him with a laugh as you take one of his hands and squeeze it reassuringly. You just laugh and laugh, a grin from ear to ear the whole time before you settle yourself. "Oh, Tech… It's okay! I don't care if it didn't end up being surprising to you. I'm just so glad you understood that you shouldn't say something just because it was obvious in this case. Thank you. You're a good friend. Not everyone has been." 

He's sorry to hear that, first and foremost. "But I am… glad that you trusted me enough to want to tell me." 

Echo (Friend who's known for ages)

Echo carefully tests whatever fun and colorful drink you ordered for yourself as you give his a try. The two of you have been friends for ages, since before the Citadel. So that means Echo's known nearly as long as you've been friends that you swing more than one way. In fact, it was surprisingly comforting to know that had not changed since ending up in a Techno Union chamber. 

"Hey, cyar'ika. Can I ask if you… Would it be weird to…" he sighed sharply and says he's just going to rip off the bacta patch and ask. "Do you still like women in addition to-?" 

"Don't worry. That hasn't changed while you were gone." you told him, wrapping him up in a careful hug on one of those first nights since he'd been freed and given time to rest. To fill himself in on what happened in the galaxy around him since being plugged into an algorithm. "Welcome back, Echo." 

He sets the drink down and shakes his head, and you give him back his beverage with a disgusted shudder. "Ugh. How can you stand that?" you both tease each other in tandem. 

"I don't understand your taste in beverages, but at least I understand your taste in women." Echo rags on you with a mischievous smile, indicating someone across the club who's been staring at the drinks menu for the last three minutes. "How about her? Clone News Network suggests she's a little shy, perhaps, but I've heard you have a similar hobby. That's something, hm?" 

You scoff, knowing well enough that the rumor mill requires taking things with a grain of salt. "Oh no, that's not enough to just-"

"She's also of 'multiple persuasions'." Echo assures you, quelling that particular anxiety. "Believe me, I asked around rather… extensively." he suggests. 

"Oh, did you now?" 

"Mhm." 

"Are you trying to set me up on a d-?"

Echo shakes his head. "Mm-mn. Only asked if any of the boys had gotten a vibe, or heard anything. She's pretty forthcoming about it, turns out, so it's not like this was something I found by invading her privacy or betraying trusts." He's a skilled tactician, he reminds you gently, and he understands that asking around takes delicacy and knowing that you can't just ask any ol' brother. 

He's nothing but mindful, as ever. "If you wanna do anything about it, that's up to you. You get more out of something when you want it, I wasn't going to set you up for something against your will."

You take a thoughtful swig of your beverage and set the glass down on the bar top once more. "If I did… would you help me plan on how to make a move? You know I'm a little hopeless with this stuff. Guys are one thing, but, I dunno, it's different when trying to flirt with another woman as a woman." you admit with a nervous laugh. 

Of course he would, Echo promises sweetly, kindly as ever. 

BONUS CLONES

Fives (Gives you advice)

Between reminding Hardcase not to go in rotary cannons blazing nearly every mission, and coming up with sufficient battle strategies as an Advanced Recon Commando, Fives is nearly convinced that he'll go gray by the time he's, what, technically fifteen? Nearly. 

So in a way, he loves when you send him a message asking for his input on low-stakes stuff. No one's in any danger, he's not worried about a brother's safety, and he still gets to show off how smart he is. 

>Oh Maker Fives help there's a total babe here tonight I think she's super cute but I don't know if it's safe to make a move or say anything what do I do

It's 21:00: are you at 79's?

> Yeah why

79's is a pretty accepting establishment, so see if anything she brought with her or is wearing has any kind of pin, or keychain or deliberate color scheme, Ka'ra. Take a deep breath. 

He chuckles as he watches the bubbles start and stop at the bottom of the messaging feature repeatedly. Poor you. Must be so nervous. So worked up on your own anxiety and panic that you might benefit from a second, teasing reminder. 

Ka'raaaa. Did you take a deep breath, silly? I don't care what the song says, love is not a battlefield, you don't need to panic. 

He thinks for a second and changes his mind. 

Actually no, scratch that. It is, but it isn't. You still need a strategy, but you need to have a level head first. 

> You're right, you're right. Taking a deep breath

Captain Rex seems to materialize behind him and over the shoulder like a hologram, peering down at the screen out of curiosity. "Those don't look like reports. One of our brothers having a little lady trouble at 79's again?" 

Fives laughs in good humor. "I'm not exactly sure why I got designated the 501st's biggest flirt, but I'll take it, Captain." He can get plenty nervous and unsure of what to say like anyone else, but Fives cares about his brothers; of course he's going to do his best to help them. "No, it's our favorite mechanic here on Coruscant." He trusts his Captain will exercise his discretion and make no mention of knowing the romantic and sexual persuasions of their friend if she hadn't made explicit mention to him. "I see. Well, wish her luck for me. I've got my own reports I've put off long enough."

"I'll have mine in by 21:30, Captain!" Fives promises, knowing he'll probably be helping some of the Shinies learn to fill them out properly once again. A little extra guidance and another source of advice goes a long way for many, brothers and friends alike. 

> Good call about looking for pins, Fives. I think I'm in the clear

He's not totally sure what that color scheme ties to when you describe the personal touch this "total babe across the bar" has added to her handbag looks like, but the simple fact that you're now fairly sure you're safe to flirt with her (if that's what you decide to do) brings you a lot of relief. 

Him too, honestly. 

You gonna go for it, mesh'la? The Captain and I wish ya luck if you do!

> I'd have to think of the right words first, but thanks Fives. You coming to 79's later tonight?

Have reports to finish up, so we'll see. 

> Your's or some of your brothers'? (Is it Hardcase's again?)

Very funny, Ka'ra. I just try to be helpful to whoever asks.

> I'm only teasing~ You're a very smart dependable brother, and friend, Fives. Next time you come to 79's if it's not tonight, I'll buy you a drink as a way of saying thank you.

Fives smiles. He'd like that, he responds. He wishes you luck once more, and says he should get a start on wrapping this particular report up since it contains information the Captain will need to report to General Skywalker with. 

Never told us there'd be this much damn paperwork to do as part of our training on Kamino if you're gonna be made an ARC trooper. 

> Good thing you're smart, Fives. I'm confident you'll figure out something wicked intelligent, like how to stop this war one day. 🩷

Captain Rex (Doing his best to learn and support you)

"Huh… gotta say, there's certainly a lot to try to understand; I might still have a few questions about it, but I'm not gonna pry into it if you don't feel like explaining it." The Captain admits, scratching the back of his neck with a soft chuckle. "I'm not quite up to speed on all this, but-" 

"Rex, it's okay." you assure him. "I know you're doing your best. I only told you a short while ago, remember? And hey," here you take his hand and give him a friendly squeeze, "it took me a while to realize this stuff about myself too. It's not always like the media where it just… "clicks", suddenly! It's almost like a building suspicion, or passing thoughts that you try to excuse at first, but then you realize that you're feeling these feelings and thinking these thoughts more and more. And that's when you tend to figure out "Oh, hey, that term I found on the Holonet describes me!" and it all makes sense. For the most part." 

"Oh?" Rex asks, intrigued. 

"Sometimes you find a label or orientation that fits you better than one you were first using." you explain, scribbling down a few labels off the top of your head onto a scrap of flimsi you had among your things as you met up with the Captain for a cup of caf on your day off, "Like say, you think this one best explains you," you circle an example, "so you use it for a while. But then later you hear about this-" you x-out the first label and circle a new one, "and you find it does a much better job of explaining how you feel. And there was nothing wrong with identifying with the first one for a while until you found what fit better and changed it, either." 

He nods thoughtfully, very clearly mulling this over. Then it hits him. "A little like, well, when a Clone finds their name?" 

"Yes!" you cheer, "Yes, kinda like when a Clone finds his name! Maybe he thought he wanted to be called Skip for a while, but he decided he felt more comfortable with naming himself Tripper after hearing someone else say it for the first time." 

He thinks he better understands this now when he thinks of it in this context, he explains with a smile that suggests a lot of relief. He's just so busy, but he wanted to understand what you meant after the last night out you had with the 501st and you were all sharing embarrassing stories. Rex wasn't a stranger to the fact that men could like men and women could like women, but some of these other labels were lost on him. 

"I've been around a while, but I have to admit I don't know what that means." he sheepishly replied when you explained what your orientation was as part of your embarrassing situation. But now that he knows, Rex wants you to know you'll always have his support.

Hardcase (Identifies as a Kriffing Problem if you don't respect his friends) 

It's good news for you, bad news for the nasties when they decide that they want to be antagonistic in a safe space. You wanted to check out a new, very accepting bar in the area, and had asked Hardcase to come along with you to help ease your nerves about it. 

His lively energy would do everyone some good, you figured. He was friendly and personable, so he'd get along with everyone. And you were right; Hardcase truly does get along with everyone from the snappily-dressed bartenders to the other allies who are there to support their friends in case there's trouble. 

Everyone except the bigots. He's always been all-smiles off the battlefield due to his energetic nature, and you've never seen him drop a smile so fast. When it's time to get serious, Hardcase gets serious. "What the kriff did you say?" He's not asking because he didn't hear what insults had been lobbied your way, he's giving the other guy a chance to back down and leave if he knows what's good for him. "I know you didn't just say that about my friend." 

The other guy repeats himself, louder this time. "I said anyone who identifies as a-"

"I'm about to identify as a kriffing problem if you don't shut the hell up." Hardcase warns him one last time, putting himself between you and the antagonizer who overheard you mentioning there were a lot of cute girls here tonight.. "Sorry that you feel so threatened by a woman finding someone other than you attractive, but that's a "you" problem that you should take somewhere else." He suggests they take a hike to 79's specifically. He conveniently "forgets" to mention that it's a Clone bar, and as the troublemakers leave, he tips off a few of his brothers about what's headed their way. 

"Don't worry about them. They'll find out how many of us identify as a kriffing problem before they think about trying this again anytime soon." Hardcase promises, his sweet and charming smile present like it never even left as he checks on you after the fact.

Tagging: @the-hexfiles

[Masterlist] [TBB Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

[salem-witch-slut]

Prostitution (18+)

Sevika x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Of all the girls in the brothel, and she picked you.

WARNINGS: Brothel work (prostitute!reader), dom!Sevika, sub!reader, hair pulling, leather lingerie, grinding, fingering, strap-on use (r!receiving), Daddy Sevika, biting (briefly)

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

A/N: In honor of Arcane Season 2 coming out today, thought I would bring back one of my best kinktober prompts with everybody's favorite muscle mommy. Briefly considered making a part 2 for this but lemme know what you guys think?

dividers made by @cafekitsune

Why did you think this was a good idea?

Well, truth be told, you didn’t think this was a good idea… But it was the only idea you had left. Your family was dead, like everyone was in the Undercity. Your partner got herself killed from a shimmer overdose, and you were facing being homeless. Your entire world was turned upside down and it was all fucked to no end. But now you had to pick up the pieces.

You were hired at the brothel. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Well, you knew Babette, and she was willing to give you a chance. It was decent money, and you were given free food during every shift. How could you turn it down?

It was your first week and you have already been through hell. The women who came to the brothel tended to be high on shimmer and sloppy at best, but the men; they were aggressive, vicious, and you found yourself leaving with aches and pains every single night.

And yet, when you entered the room that you were assigned to today, you were surprised to say the least. The outfit on the bench was… strange. Normally, the clientele wanted something revealing, lace, and soft bright colors. No, you were given something black, made of leather, and matching black heels to complete the look.

“Don’t question it,” You told yourself. “Just put it on.”

You slowly stripped off all your clothes and pulled on the leather bustier and black lace panties. Your fingers twitched slightly as you strapped the heels to your feet and ran your fingers through your hair… Your lipstick was a deep maroon color, and you had dark, dramatic eyeliner. Seems like you thought it all out already?

Who was your client today? Why were you so nervous? What if it was a man that was three times your size? What if it was more than one man? What if you got hurt today?

“Did you hear about who she picked today?” A shiver raced down your spine as you approached the curtains in front of your door, biting down on your painted lip. Who were they talking about?

“Oh, I heard. Cute little new girl is about to get ruined today, huh?” You… they were talking about you! But who else? Who was she?

You’ll get your answer soon enough.

It felt like forever until you heard heavy footfalls in the hallways. Whispers carried in the corridors, along with the aggressive clicks of heels from your fellow ‘coworkers’ running away from whoever was making their presence known inside of the building. Your fingers trembled as you dared a peek out from behind your curtain.

Not even a second later, the curtain was being pulled back and in walked your client… Tall, muscular, handsome, and absolutely terrifying.

The brothel’s most regular visitor. Silco’s right hand… the person that everyone in the underground fears.

Sevika.

You nearly fell down the stairs, heels slipping on the concrete flooring as you tried to back away and give her the space she deserved. But it seemed she had other ideas.

Before your body could come in contact with the ground, the woman reached out and grabbed both of your hips with her hands. Her right hand was warm and calloused, a pulse beneath her flesh, but her left hand? Cold, sharp, and thrumming with the energy of her mechanical arm hidden beneath that cloak she always wears.

“Easy, doll,” Her voice is deep, husky almost as she steps forward and lowers you down to the stable surface behind you. Shivers raced down your back, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trembling in her grasp. For a moment, neither of you said anything. But then her eyes raked all over your body and she breathed, hard. “Damn, look at you… Pretty little thing all dressed up just for me?”

Were you supposed to speak? You have heard so many stories about Sevika… how aggressive and cruel she is out there on the streets, and how she kills without mercy or a care in the world. You were scared of her, to say the least… And Sevika could see it in your eyes. She knew what her reputation was and was more than happy to push the agenda.

“Scared of me?”

You inhaled sharply, your hands slowly sliding from your sides to hold onto her forearms. The whirring of the mechanics of her arm made your thighs tremble. “N-No, miss…”

“Funny,” Sevika reached down and gently ran her rough fingertips along the edge of your jaw before she slid her hand in your hair. “Only dumb girls feel no fear… Now, you aren’t dumb, are you sweet thing?”

 You breathed slowly for a second, fearing you said something wrong to her. She looked amused, but looks could be deceiving… The gap between her two front teeth was cute. You focused on the crease of her jawline, the scars on her face, and the way her brows were pulled down.

She was so fucking hot that you forgot why you were afraid… and then, she grabbed at your hair, making you yelp and submit. Your hands had slid far too high up, and she was punishing you… Fuck, she was punishing you! “Better watch it. I’m paying to touch you, not the other way around.”

“But—” You hiccupped, looking into her eyes for the briefest second. She waited for your words to continue. “S-sorry…”

“Oh, she has manners?” Sevika showed off the smile that made your stomach flutter for a brief moment and reached down with both hands, gripping your thighs and lifting you off the floor like you weighed almost nothing to her. Out of instinct, your hands reached up and grabbed onto her shoulders for stability. “We’re going to have fun.”

Before you could utter another sound, you felt something press against you… something solid, and stiff. Something that felt like it was alive, right against the wet spot on your panties. A low moan left your throat, and you just immediately knew what it was.

“Take it off, doll,” Sevika breathed against your neck. “You know you want to.”

Fingers trembled as you reached for the cloak on her shoulders and slowly pulled it over her head. The brown fabric dropped to the floor behind her, and you looked down, confirming your suspicion. Sevika was strapped under her pants… the bulge was now way more obvious without the cloak.

“Feel that?” Sevika pressed her flesh hand to your rear and stepped forward, spinning you around and sitting herself down on the couch behind you. The second you were in her lap, she was pushing you down onto her hips and grinding the bulge against your cunt like it was her damn birthright to do so.

Your pulse quickened with every passing second, and you dropped your face down against her chest, breathing in the scent of tobacco and her natural scent… Strong, earthy, like a roaring wood fire. You didn’t know what came over you, but before you could scold yourself for knowing better, your tongue came in contact with her bear neck and your lips trailed all over her exposed skin.

Sevika tensed up and her fingers went from holding your hips to sliding under the fabric of your panties, grabbing at your flesh and making you instinctively bite down on her shoulder. Nowhere near enough to hurt, but enough for her to feel it. Sevika looked like she was about to start climbing the walls as she felt your hips roll forward on top of her.

With a simple flick of her metallic fingers, the underwear given to you was ripped off your body and you barely had time to recover before Sevika was lifting you off her lap and reaching to pull the zipper of her pants down. A sigh left your throat, and you could only push your face into her neck; Sevika didn’t like that.

“Nuh-uh,” She grabbed your chin with her flesh hand, pulling you back to look down into her eyes. Her grey irises were staring directly passed your fears and into your soul. It was like she was lighting you on fire from the inside out. “You look at me. Prettiest fucking girl is going to look at me when I fuck her.”

Her words made you blush from the tips of your ears down to your neck and you almost forgot that this was your job… It was easy to think that Sevika had just picked you out of everyone in the underground to have a night with. Not… that she was paying for it.

“Don’t worry,” Sevika smirked, that crease in her brow becoming more prominent as you felt her hand leave your face and slide down between your legs. When you felt her calloused fingers against your soft wet folds, you forgot how to breathe. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

The sound you made was beyond pornographic. Two of her fingers slipped inside of your wetness without any kind of resistance. Your entire body went rigid, and your eyes fluttered for a brief second before you forced yourself to look at her. Sevika smirked and basked in your expressions, slowly pushing you up and down on her digits.

What did you even say? What were you supposed to do? Sevika isn’t like your other clients… She’s so intense, even when she’s barely touching you. It feels like you are drowning, even if it’s just her presence surrounding you. Your inner walls squeeze at her fingers as she curls them at just the right angle. Sevika smirked.

“Oh, you like that?” Sevika kept you steady on her lap with her metal hand while the other one worked in and out of your pussy. “So wet for me, already? Barely touched you, doll.”

“Fuuck...” You rolled your entire body forward, biting your lip and leaning down just enough to press soft kisses against her face. “P-Please—”

“Please, what?” Sevika said sternly. “Use your words, doll.”

“I… I n-need… ohfuck...”

“Come on,” She smirked, curling her fingers at just the right angle that you almost feel your legs give out. “Just say it—”

“Fuck me,” You whine, finally giving in. “Please, please, please… fuck me, daddy.”

There was a hunger in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It was like a switch had flipped inside of her because in mere seconds, you went from sitting on her lap to her pushing you down into the floor that was littered with pillows, blankets, anything you could desire to make this as comfortable as possible.

Sevika all but ripped her pants to try and free what had been teasing you initially. You only had a few seconds to really look at the strap around her hips before she was lining the tip of the bright purple silicone against your core.

“Pretty little thing,” Sevika growled, almost ferally as she slammed down overtop of you. Suddenly, the leather around your chest felt entirely too tight, like you couldn’t breathe. You began frantically reaching for the ties to undo the restraint on your chest, and Sevika noticed because you gasped at her ripping the ropes off the bustier and pushing the fabric apart to really look at you.

“Now, because you were a good girl…” Sevika gently prodded your opening, making you whimper and reach for her biceps. “You get a warning before you get fucked.”

“Daddy, please—”

That was her trigger. You could only grab at her muscles before she was plunging all of her strap inside of your cunt like it belonged to her. You tried to scream, but nothing came out other than a strangled squeak as your head went back on the pillows and tears filled your eyes.

You aren’t a stranger to being stretched out like this. It wasn’t like it was your first day at the brothel… but it was your first day with Sevika. She only gave you a few seconds to adjust to that cock before she was reaching down with her flesh fingers and gently rubbing at your clit.

Your soft squeaks faded into intense moans, much to the woman’s delight. She chuckled, watching you squirm and look at her like she was an alien of some sort.

“Not what you expected, doll?” Sevika teased, rolling her hips forward and making you moan like the whore you were. “Didn’t think I’d care about making you feel good?”

Very stupidly, you nodded.

“Let me fix that,” She leaned down, and you curled your fingers into the leather of her jacket before bracing yourself for the most intense workday of your entire fucking life.

“Be good for daddy and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll beg me not to leave.”

And that is exactly what Sevika did.

[peachtvs]

Ⅵ⌇ CONTENT WARNINGS: afab, female!reader, dom!pitfighter!vi x reader, fingering, oral (reader receiving), rough sex, strapon (reader receiving), aftercare, unhinged gayass shit. 1.8k wc

pitfighter!vi who's right about to begin her first fight of the day, crackling her neck right to left before clenching her fists in front of her face.

pitfighter!vi who's eyes lazily glance around the stadium. it's unbelievably loud, people grabbing at the bars and yelling out, betting tickets being held up in the air. vi doesn't notice anything interesting, no, not until she spots you watching behind the bars.

pitfighter!vi who's seemingly mesmerized for a moment as her eyes meet yours. you're hot. without even thinking her eyes trace down your figure, hardcore checking you out. her gaze flicks down to your hips, your chest, back up to those eyes, and as great of a view you were, the match had started without her noticing and her opponent lands a sudden slam into the side of her jaw.

pitfighter!vi who thinks even the way you panicked was cute, your eyes widening as you're so invested. have you always been her fan? how many games had you attended without her noticing? vi almost cruses herself, how had she not noticed a pretty little thing like you before?

pitfighter!vi who wins the match as usual, pummeling her opponent into the ground as the referee had to rip her off the guy by the shoulder. she takes her infamous slogan of victory, holding her fist into the air as the crowd absolutely erupts in excitement. she looks around quickly, finding you in the crowd, locking eyes, and winking to you with a smirk. she almost laughs when she notices your entire face burning red in response, giving her a flustered smile.

pitfighter!vi who notices you once again at the afterparty with her buddies, standing from afar in the corner of the pub, watching her intently. she almost thinks you're what she was meant to take home tonight, not one of the many medals she already had.

pitfighter!vi who's so charming. she's leaning against the wall, her muscular arms crossed in front of her chest and she is so cocky noticing your eyes stuck on them.

pitfighter!vi who takes you back to her place, and the second that the front door is closed behind you she's already on you. both her calloused hands slide up the side of your neck, cupping your face into her hands as she presses her lips against yours. the way you guys are making out is almost like she's eating you alive, backing you slowly until you hit the edge of the bed. she pulls away, barely for a second, pushing you back onto the bed as she climbs on top of you. she holds both your hands, sliding up from your forearms to your palms before intertwining her fingers with yours and pinning you down onto the bed beneath her. the look in her eyes is hungry, staring down at you with your gaze half-lidded. "You're so needy, hmm, pretty girl?" and you're losing it.

pitfighter!vi who's holding you down with a tight grip as her kisses trail down from your lips to your cheek, jaw, before she licks up the side of your neck, swirling her tongue against your neck. she can't help but feel insatiable. who knew bare skin could taste so good?

pitfighter!vi who marks hickey after hickey all over your body. she slides your shirt up and over your head, travelling down from your neck to bite onto your exposed chest. she takes your breast into her mouth, swirling her tongue around your nipple and roughly grabbing and pinching the other with her hand. you're moaning out, wrapping your legs around her waist, and that only makes her grind into you harshly. feeling her weight pressing down on you, her tongue swirling on you, her hand groping up your chest, you feel like you're on cloud nine with the amount of overstimulation she's giving you.

pitfighter!vi who quickly rids you of all your clothing, throwing it behind her onto the floor before she's between your thighs, looking at you from in between your legs with striking blue eyes. she still has her pit fighter makeup on, her eyes contrasting the black streaks down her face so well it seems as if shes seeing through to your soul. her dark hair tickles your inner thighs, and you twist your hips in response.

pitfighter!vi who maintains eye contact with you as her tongue presses onto your hole, dragging it up harshly before it flicks up to the underside of your clit. you moan out in response, your back arching off the bed as you buck your hips involuntarily. in turn, vi snakes her hands to your hips, holding you so tight you know her handprints will be buried into your skin by tomorrow morning, and that only makes you love this even more.

pitfighter!vi who eats you out like it's her last meal, making almost primal sounds as she laps at your clit, sucking on it harshly and swirling her tongue all at the same time. you feel like your mind is falling apart, your hands reaching out and fingers tangling into her hair, pulling her closer. vi laughs breathily in response, and you clench at the loss of her mouth.

pitfighter!vi who grabs you by your thighs and moves onto the bed with you, now sitting between your thighs as she holds your knees apart. she's still completely clothed, and you cover your face with both hands in embarrassment at how perverted her gaze is when she looks down at you.

pitfighter!vi who makes you beg for her to keep going, pet name after pet name as she only cups your pussy, pressing the heel of her hand down on your clit occasionally to cut you off as you try and plea with her.

pitfighter!vi who doesn't give you what you want until you're on the verge of tears, grinding against her hand needily, right on the verge of falling apart. just where she wanted you the second she first laid eyes on you.

pitfighter!vi who sinks two fingers into you, stretching you out and scissoring them deeper and deeper until she hits a mushy spot within that has you crying out. she doesn't care if the walls in her studio are paper thin, she's focused all and only on making a pretty little girl like you squirt all over her sheets. the second she feels you had barely adjusted, vi increases her speed. the heel of her hand slams down on your clit with each fingerfucked thrust, a soft pap pap pap of your wetness as if your pussy was telling her how good she was doing too. vi's freehand traces circles along your stomach, groping your tit and pinching your nipple as her fingers curl up inside of you each time she's bottoming out.

pitfighter!vi who fingerfucks orgasm after orgasm out of you, ruining her sheets in your squirt as you swear you can't cum anymore—only for her to press down on your lower stomach, curl up her fingers, and for you to cum once again with your eyes rolling into the back of your head and thighs shaking.

pitfighter!vi who gently pulls her fingers out of your sloppy pussy, leaning down to press a sweet kiss against your clit almost as an apology. you lay on the mattress flat, breathing heavily, pussy clenching around nothing as vi gets out of the bed.

pitfighter!vi who quickly returns, sitting between your legs once more, only this time she's wearing a dark red strapon—smiling down at you sweetly as she cups your face gently. her thumb brushes over the streaks of tears on your cheek, laying the dildo onto your lower belly as she leans down to your neck. her lips nip against your skin gently, her arms caging your head as she cradles you like you're the most precious thing in the world. she tangles her hand into your hair, petting your scalp. you wrap your legs around her waist, feeling the weight of the strap against your clit, your hands sliding up the tattoos on her back as you hold her with closed eyes. "How do you want it, pretty girl?" her voice is soft, charming, almost like a lullaby. the versatility in her tone is almost astounding, going from nastily lecherous to sweet and lulling. you adjust yourself for a moment, leaning up to kiss her neck, trailing to her ear.

"I want you to fuck me."

pitfighter!vi who's pounding into you, your hands gripping at the sheets with your ankles behind her head. vi's large hands are holding on to your thighs, your ass lifted up from the mattress as she slams into you over and over. you never thought you could meet someone who could cum from strapon fucking you alone, but here you were—your slick splashed across vi's pelvis, dripped all over your inner thighs just as she was dripping too. the stretch was so good, tipping so close to too much every time she reaches down to give a harsh swirl around your clit. you sob, not from sadness or pain, but from how fucking good it feels. how easily she's fucking into that right spot nestled deep into your pussy, how easily she kisses your cervix with the head of the strap. vi's hands suddenly run down the underside of your thighs, holding the back of your knees when she pushes them into your chest.

pitfighter!vi who has you in a mating press, sloppily fucking your slutty throat with her tongue as her hips fuck your pussy open. her hand holds yours, fingers intertwined sweetly—a stark contrast to how animalistically her hips slam against yours. it's not until you gasp out, holding her hand tighter as you look up into vi's eyes. vi looks down at you, half-lidded as she smiles at you.

"you doing alright, cupcake?" you could only moan in response, quickly nodding absent-mindedly.

"i'm gonna cum, fuck—"

pitfighter!vi who cages your head in her biceps when you say that, exhaling deeply as she closes her eyes and moans in response. without warning, she pulls right out to the tip, slamming back in, using the entire length of the dildo now as her hand snakes down to your clit.

"yeah? cum then."

pitfighter!vi who cums a little after you do, roughly riding out your high by fucking you through your orgasm, only slowing down when you're pushing against her thighs with weak hands. she bottoms out the strap one last time, hips pressed flush against yours as she leans in to give a gentle peck onto your lips before pulling out slowly.

pitfighter!vi who has magical aftercare, wiping you clean with a towel and cuddling you in her arms until you eventually fall asleep—massaging your head with an occasional peck on your forehead.

You're watching...

© PeachTVs 2024

[pickle-the-lad]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48282202/chapters/121766998

Okay, I have edited chapters 4 through 6 to remove the gala. It was clunking up my story and keeping me from doing things that are required to have for certain situations to come up. I hope y'all don't mind♡

I'm going to try to become three chapters ahead, and I might update bi-monthly when that happens.

[makingqueerhistory]

Read the rainbow!

[gravegoer]

OMG I love your last sevika work💖😍

Can we maybe have more oblivious reader ?🥹👉👈

Maybe reader being a total housewife for sevika and loving her VERY much 💖 (my girl deserve a rest )

Taking care of her ✧₊⁺

thank you for your support ! i totally agree with you, my girl needs a BREAK so heres to giving some loving to sevika when she needs it and implementing a little more oblivious reader :) + a little blurb at the end for fun <3 !!

masterlist here

You let Sevika over often. She found a kind of comfort at your home, more so than at hers. Her place was kind of.. plain. I mean, it was funded by Silco, and she's barely home to begin with, always out on missions or at the bar.

But after you offered her your key, saying, "You can come over anytime you want, I don't mind." She definitely took up that invitation. But not without teasing you.

"Want me to come whisk you away in the night, huh? I bet you'd like that."

She basically moved in with you, coming home after a particularly hard mission late at night, sliding into bed with you. You would awake at the intrusion and immediately tell her to get up so you could survey her injuries.

Sometimes you'd make her warm soup if you were alert enough, she wrapped her thick arms around you, her warm hand contrasting with the cold metallic of the prosthetic. Breathing deeply into your ear as you stirred the pot.

You just being her cute little wife made her melt.

On the nights you didn't wake, she would let you sleep in, watching the way your eyelids flutter in your slumber. Letting out a deep chuckle at your small snores. Then she would walk over to the window and light a cigarillo before you awoke.

Instead of going to the bar when she was stressed she would lay in your lap on the couch while you massaged her head, making all her worries shrink away. She groans when it feels especially good, and furrows her eyebrows when you giggle at her noises.

Speaking of massages, she loves when you rub her tense shoulders and whisper sweet things to her. Although she would never admit to it, she smiles at your adamant complements when her face isn't in view.

While your fingers work into her broad shoulders she would tell you stories about the people she has met and the places she's been. The places she wants to take you.

She tilted her head back to rest it on your chest, looking up at you with hooded eyelids as a smile adorns your face. Planting a soft kiss to her forehead you continued your motions.

She screams internally when she sees you walk around the house with a cute apron on. "Kiss the cook? Don't mind if I do," She purred, tilting your chin to plant a hot kiss on your lips.

When you asked her if she liked your cooking she was always painfully honest. Especially when it was good. She lets out a huge dramatic sigh at a good bite of a hot meal. And an even more dramatic grimace at a pinch too much salt.

When she stayed the night she would let you put her hair up in the morning, and on occasion help her get dressed. She calls you over to help her with the buttons on her vest, knowing full well she can do it herself. (She just wants to watch your cute concentrated face) Sevika indulges in the brush of your fingers against her chest, soft and gentle.

Her scent lingered when she left for the day, the dull smell of leather and something warm. She tries not to light up a cigarillo in your house often but the smell does inhabit the couch where she often lit one up while you sat all pretty in her lap.

She loved the way you felt atop her thick thighs, your legs dangling in between hers. She rubbed your thigh with her mechanical hand affectionately while she took a drag. These are the moments you savored.

One morning you woke up significantly earlier then Sevika, the dim moonlight peering through your blinds. Glancing at the clock you read " 5 a.m. " You tried to roll over, back into Sevika's chest as an attempt to lull yourself back to sleep. Her warmth radiates on your face and you try to snuggle impossibly closer so that it would spread throughout your body.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning you ultimately decided to get up. You silently cursed your forgetfulness, as the night before you stupidly forgot to draw your curtains. Slowly slipping out of bed you padded your way to the bathroom and flicked on the lights. The soft buzz of the bulb welcomed you as you fixed your messy bedhead in the mirror.

Turning on the faucet, warm water ran over your hands, after splashing it on your face you peered over at the tub. An idea popped into your head. Sevika's had a rough week and she could definitely use some relaxing before the weekend. You smirked at your bright idea. Waking up to a beautiful girl and a warm bath? What's better than that? (Nothing)

Cranking the handle of hot water you tested it, humming to yourself at the temperature. It filled the bath slowly and you watched while you sat on the edge of the tub. Thinking about how Sevika will enjoy your surprise, imagining her cute reaction, and perhaps her lips on yours. At your thoughts you almost drifted to sleep when you were pulled out of your daze by the hot steam hitting your face.

Standing up, you pulled out some soothing bath salts from under your sink, pouring a little into the bath. Swirling the water around with your hands you pumped some soap into the water, coating the surface of the water with bubbles.

When you were satisfied you tip toed back into your room, drying your hands off on your clothes. You giggled at Sevika's large frame on your bed, her snores muffled by the plush pillow on her face. You almost couldnt bring yourself to wake her up.

But you touched her gently on the arm, "Sevi, wake up," You whispered.

When she didn't respond you shook her carefully. She groaned at the intrusion and turned to face you. "What..? it's too early for this," Her husky voice grumbled. She wasn't pleased to see you standing at the edge of the bed instead of laying beside her.

"I have a surprise for you," You whispered sweetly.

This made her squeeze her eyes shut for another second and sigh before running her hands over her face, "Okay, surprise me sweetheart."

You pulled her out of her spot, the blankets pooling on the floor around her feet. Helping her stand up you lead her to the dimly lit bathroom. Her hand was warm in yours, you noted the her light squeeze when she saw what was beyond the bathroom door.

Looking up at her face you saw a small smile grace her features, highlighted by the glow of the light, "All for me?"

You smirked in pride, "Yep! I knew you'd need it. Like it, huh?"

"Always know what I need," She purred while stroking your cheek with a thick finger.

Walking over to the tub, she sat on the edge. Her two fingers beckoned you to come closer, spreading her legs so you could stand between them.

"Join me?"

thank you for the ask ! this was fun to write and i hope for more asks in the future :) my inbox is always open !! and as always reblogs and kudos are always appreciated let me know if you liked this <𝟑 .ᐟ

[melodygatesauthor]

I'm so excited for this! Really hoping I find the time to participate!!

Yayy!!!

Banner by @winniethewife

Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024

Hello friends!

Let's try this again and I'll try to be more clear to not invoke discourse. That being said, it is *my* event and if you'd like to run one a certain way, go nuts. However, this is how I'm doing it.

I had a lot of fun doing Dead Dove December and the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event so I decided I wanted to do an event for pride this year! I know it seems far away right now, especially given how many of us in north America are still cold af, but I wanna give everyone time!

Each week of pride will have a theme to write or draw for (you don't have to do all of them! Think of it like kinktober.) at the end, I will put out a masterlist (or multiple depending how many)so we can all share each other's work.

Why?

Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal are both allies to LGBT people, Pedro having played multiple queer rolls and having likened his sexuality to that of Prince Oberyn. Despite none of the characters being canon queer, Triple Frontier specifically lends itself to queer stories. Recently, theres been a rise in stories of Oscar characters in relationships or Pedro characters in relationships which I love.

What I'd really like to do is encourage people to think past x fem!reader or canon presentation of characters. I want to encourage gay, lesbian, bisexual relationships, trans readers, trans interpretations of characters etc. More content guidelines will be in the what section.

Where?

Primarily tumblr.com, our very own shithole hellsight. However, especially given tumblr's censorship vs. twitter, I am encouraging posting on twitter or wherever you'd like. If you post something elsewhere, send me a link or send me a post you made about it on tumblr and I'll promote the link.

Additionally if you only write on ao3, I'd love for you to participate too! Once again, just send the link!

When?

in order to do the week by week themes and hold all of June, there will be 6 weeks from May 26th-July 6th

Each week will have themes. I won't be policing the weeks and these so if you do the 1st week on july 3rd, that's fine. The themes are keeping in mind both artists and writers. I only got one artist for DDD, a great piece and I've love to see more! Ideas are just for spit balling, do your own take!

May 26th-June 1st: Coming out. Ideas: Coming out to family, lover, friend. Finding gender affirming clothes/hair, first pride

June 2nd-8th: Transitioning Ideas: Surgary, surgery scars, starting T or E, binding (safely!!!)

June 9th-15th: Sex/kissing First time together, first time with certain biology or the same sex, sweet kisses, smut showing scars,

June 16th-22nd: Food, fashion, fun

All things queer culture and culture of different religions, racial or country backgrounds, queer fashion, gender affirming clothes, Keshet (קשת), listening to Lady Gaga or Bruce Springsteen, watching a queer movie

June 23rd-29th: Struggles Rejection, reconciling faith and identity, missing family that rejected one, comfort, candlelight vigil, day of remembrance.

June 30th- July 6th:Strength Asserting ones or a partner/friend/family's pronouns, standing up against hate, being loudly and proudly yourself, pride events

Who?

Writers and artists in any form are welcome. I also want to encourage working with each other, writers and artists together!

For characters: Any Oscar Isaac or Pedro Pascal character has to at least be in the relationship. Other characters in universes can be done, such as FishBen.

Reader can be anyone, just properly tag! If you want to come out to Marc Spector as bisexual, do it!!! If you want Joel to take care of you after top surgery, do it!

YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE QUEER TO PARTICIPATE!

However! Please do your research if writing or drawing an identity not yours. There are trans, nonbinary, gay, lebian etc bloggers all over tumblr who write about their experience, please divert to first person testimonies rather than assumptions.

What?

A few rules

MUST contain more than male character x fem!reader. Male character x fem!reader x male character does not count unless the two male characters are romantically or sexually involved or one or the reader is trans. Any Q's, dm me!

This is not a dark event. I'm not going to be policing the content matter but I really want to primarily focus on the pride. However, as a bisexual, gender non-conforming person I know a lot of pain can still be involved. What we are not doing is suicide, death, self-harm, or non consensual activity. If you have questions or would like to make a case for something, just dm me!

This is not inherently NSFW, but there is absolutely NSFW allowed. Always tag everything properly.

The usual no's like bestiality, incest, underage nsfw etc

As far as minor characters, SFW MINOR CHARACTERS IS ALLOWED. You can write or draw lgbt themes because being LGBT is not inherently sexual. For example, teenage Santi coming out as trans to Frankie or your own version of Ellie and Joel's talk about Ellie and Dina kiss. That being said, I'd prefer to reserve this to teens. Again, any questions or ideas that don' quite fit into parameters, just ask!

As always, I am allowed to use my discretion. If I do not want to include something, I won't. However, I know that there are rifts in the fandom. I won't be excluding you out of personal bias. As long as I don't have you blocked and you haven't plagerized or done something really bad to people, you'll be included. I'm not letting petty beefs get in the way. Harmful actions will, however. I need to protect my peace and keep

NO REAL PERSON FANFICTION. Do not write about Oscar Isaac or Pedro pascal being gay or trans and do not make any assumptions about their sexuality or gender identity. Oscar is happily married to a woman and Pedro has expressed his sexuality is like that of Oberyn Martell but has not elaborated much further, nor should he have to. Just leave ‘em be. You can speculate elsewhere but that’s not what this event is for.

How?

Simply tag me, @romanarose and use the #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 please please please use BOTH so it's easier for me to find!!!

When the event is over, much like DDD I will compiled them into a masterlist and posted. This is a chance for every blog, big and small, to get a moment in the sun and to share each others works! Remember, reblogging, comments, and interacting is what makes this a community! I want to create an environment that is welcoming and we all help each other.

Please feel free to reach out to me for any questions or clarification!

However, if you go issues with me writing men kissing, chracters being trans, queer readers etc, I'm not really open to debate.

~A nonbinary bisexual <3

[teliphone]

Corrupt Desire

Summary: You’re an FBI agent who successfully captured the deadliest hitman, Rio Vidal. You hate to admit you have fallen in love with the criminal. Rio's psychotic games rope you back into her life. Just as she calculated, you can’t help but fall to your knees for her. Her beauty and sinister mind make her too irresistible. 

Warning(s): Smut, Oral, Fingering, Manipulation. 

Word Count: 5.9k 

-

“Put your bag in the bin please,” The security guard orders from the side. You take your large bag off your shoulders and place it into the bin. The guard slides it past the metal scanner and gestures to you to step forward. Before you can grab your bag, a female guard stops you. She snaps on light-blue latex gloves as she looks at your figure up and down with a stern face. 

“I have to search your body for any weapons or illegal substances,” She explains. You shyly smile and nod your head. A body search is a requirement when entering through this specific prison. She walks over til she is face to face with you. Her blue eyes stare briefly into yours, causing you to glance at the ceiling. She starts to run her fingers along your arms. Then you feel her slide down your hips to your thighs. Her fingers tug around the inside of your waistband. Lastly, she quickly slides along your core area. You feel a small blush appear out of embarrassment.

“You’re clear,” She reports. You quietly thank her and straighten yourself to grab your bag. She nods her head and tosses the gloves into the trash. She disappears behind the security door. You reach into the bag and shuffle around to find your ID card. You press the card against the glass and the front desk security writes your information down. The gates buzz and unlock. You tighten your grip on your bag and hesitate to step ahead. Before you can proceed, gates swing open and a man with a gray beard walks out. Judging by his badge you could tell he is the head warden of the prison. His button-up shirt is wrinkled with an obvious coffee stain around the stomach area. You avert your eyes up to his face to avoid staring. 

“You must be the FBI agent coming to interview Rio Vidal,” He assumes while rubbing his belly. You feel your stomach turn at the mention of her. 

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” You greet with a smile. You bring out a hand to shake, but he looks away too soon. You stare at your awkward hand with an embarrassing blush before placing it back on your side. He starts walking down the halls while explaining to you about the interview you were about to conduct. You quicken your steps to catch up with him. You glance around the hall, examining how everything is locked up and secured. It is also eerie quiet. 

“-Rio refuses to speak with anyone but you,” He informs, bringing your attention back to him. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why?” You question. He lets out a dry chuckle as if you just asked a silly obvious question. He doesn’t respond which makes you want the world to swallow you full. He leads you to another gate, a step closer to where the prisoners are stationed. He stops walking and presses his key card on a scanner. The gate buzzes and clicks open again. He opens the gate for you and gestures to you through. As you walk in, you take a peek through a random room and accidentally make eye contact with an inmate. Tattoos coated his whole skin and his dark eyes are calculated. He is getting checked up by a police officer. The inmate tilts his head slowly and smirks. He looks at you hungrily and jerks his hand up and down in a provocative gesture. The officer snaps his finger in front of the inmate and yells at him to focus. You quickly look away and grimace in disgust. 

“Sorry about that. Most inmates here have been locked up for ages… they tend to get hot pants,’ He laughs, ‘We get the most dangerous criminals in our facility. Our security is more uptight. It’s hard to do anything around here… if you know what I mean.” 

He lets out another chuckle, proud of his humor. You give him a nervous forced laugh. Thankfully he buys it and continues showing you the way. 

“About Rio… you mentioned she refuses to talk to anyone?” You bring her back into the topic. The reason why you’re here in the first place. 

“Correct. Many officers and detectives have been trying to get her to speak. All she says is to bring you,” He answers. You nibble your bottom lip and feel anxiety creeping up. It was one simple reason: you were the one who got her caught and arrested. 

“How… has she been?” You ask. 

“She’s quiet and lonely. No one dares to talk to ‘lady of death’.” He chuckles at the nickname that has spread throughout the prison. You look down at the floor. You clench your hands around the strap of your bag and shake your head. No, you shouldn’t feel bad. She’s a criminal. 

Before you know it, you have finally reached a room with a gate. It’s guarded by two guards with a rifle attached to their bodies. They stand with their heads lifted high. Their faces lack emotion. You have never seen someone guarding a door with guns that big. You wonder if that was necessary. The Warden notices your staring. 

“We need to take great precautions with Rio,” He explains. He unlocks the gate and you peek inside. There is a simple table with two chairs placed on opposite sides. There is nothing much else in the room, to limit any harm that could be done. You tug your bag closer to your body. 

“You don’t need to worry. There will be a guard inside the room with you. We will be watching in a room next door with the cameras we placed,” He assures. You weren’t necessarily nervous about getting harmed. You were anxious about seeing her. Nevertheless, you squeeze a smile at him and start walking into the room. You notice the installed camera in the top left corner. A camera that doesn’t voice record and only visually records. You take a seat furthest from the door. You place your bag down and pull out a file, notepad, and a pen. You place your hands on top of the notepad and start playing with your fingers. The waiting game is eating you up, making you more nervous than ever. You self-cautiously brush your hair to make yourself look decent and press your lips together to try and get some color in it. It has been a long time since you have last seen her. You stop your movement and drop your shoulders. You feel guilty thinking about the past. Guilty about the things you did to her. 

-

You were placed on a top-secret case by your FBI team. Rio Vidal is the deadliest hitman. The mission was simple: Get close to Rio and get her to let her guard down so she can be captured. The only reason why you were chosen is because Rio has a history of being with younger women. You didn’t realize how much she trusted you until the doors of her apartment were getting kicked down. She quickly rushed to shield you. You feel your heart crack in guilt. Officers full of gear rushed in and pulled you away from her while the other half grabbed her. She thrashed against their hold. You yell at the officers to be more gentle on her as she is being shoved onto the ground to be handcuffed. Your FBI partner walked over and gave you a pat on the back. Usually, you would be happy, but in this case, you couldn’t. When Rio looked at you, you could see the realization sink in. It was a slight movement, but you saw it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes expressed hurt. Just as quickly as you saw it, as fast it disappeared. She replaced it with a cold-hearted smile. You tense up and freeze. That’s the last sight you saw of her. 

-

You see a body appear behind the gate. The bright color orange catches your eyes first. You feel your heart stop pounding. There is Rio Vidal in the orange prison uniform. She stares at you with an unexplainable expression. You nervously gulp. The gate swings open and the guards push her to take a step. She stumbles a little. Her hands are cuffed with loose chains around her ankle. The metal chain sounds loud in the quiet room. The guards shove her into the seat and she lets out a soft grunt. You flinch at their actions. You believe they didn’t have to be that aggressive with her. They turn around and start to leave.

“Excuse me,” Rio speaks up. Her voice sounds deeper and raspier than you remembered. The guards stop in their tracks and look over. She brings her handcuffed hands up and waves them. 

“How can I have a pleasant time with my date if I’m cuffed?” She smiles. You feel your cheeks warm up. They look at you for permission in which you nod your head. You trust she won’t do anything. Rio smirks and brings her hand to the guards. She watches closely as they take out a key and start unlocking her handcuffs and chains. She slowly rolls her free wrists and hums in delight. The deep sound from her throat makes you gulp. Finally, one guard leaves while one remains in the room near the door. Rio turns her body fully to face you. You take note of her features. Prison hasn’t been gentle to her. Her eyes look tired and wrinkles are starting to form. But even with that, you couldn’t deny the attractiveness that she holds. She tilts her head up as she examines you as well. She bites her lower lip to try and conceal her excitement. 

“I missed you,” She confesses. You avert your eyes to the guard and back to her. You feel embarrassed to have someone else hear a criminal flirting with you. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. 

“If you can’t keep your attention on me. I want him out of the room,” She demands. You widen your eyes. 

“That is unnecessary,” You explain. 

“If you don’t get him out of the room. I refuse to talk,” She says. You furrow your eyebrows at her. She shrugs her shoulders and leans back onto the chair. She playfully looks around the room to keep herself entertained. 

“Rio…” You try getting her attention. She ignores you. You let out a sigh. This is no good. You need to get the job done. You look at the guard and gesture at him to leave. He hesitates at first but decides to listen. Rio’s lips curl into a smile when she hears the gate behind her close. She places her hands on the table and leans forward. An attempt to close the distance. You lean back, but the chair limits you. 

“Finally. Just you and me,” She grins. You let out a shaky breath. Your eyes flicker down to her lips in a second, but she catches it. Your hand slides to grab a pen. You click it and place it against the notepad. 

“I am here to talk to you about the victims you killed-“

“Did you miss me?” She cuts. She smiles innocently. Her eyes are wide like a doe, except you know she is far from innocent. The woman in front of you is sinister and well-calculated. 

“Rio, that is inappropriate to ask,” You warn, fidgeting with the pen. She ignores you and continues talking while playfully tapping her fingertips against the table surface. 

“You came sooner than I expected. Couldn’t resist seeing me?” She teases. You accidentally grip the pen harder til your knuckles turn white. 

“I am here for my job. Not for you,” You snap. She widens her eyes as she smiles, trying to act offended. 

“Will you look at that? You seem to have grown into your big boy pants,” She snickers. You were about to snap back til you narrowed your eyes at her. Her lips start to twitch. 

You know what she was doing. She was trying to rail you up and observe if she can still control your emotions. You knew she was secretly obsessed with dominance. You’ve seen it sparkle in her eyes when you fall into her schemes. She had made you go against your morals and unknowingly act like a puppet on a string. 

“I am not going to play your games this time,” You grumble. 

“Oh sweetie… you’ve already stepped into my playground,” She whispers. Chills run down your spine, but you try your best to ignore her. You slide a photo of one of her victims in front of her. You point your finger at it. 

“Tell me why you decided to kill this man,” You order. She tilts her chin down to look at the victim. She fakes a yawn and shrugs her shoulders. 

“He deserved it,” She sighs in boredom. You slide another photo to be side by side. 

“How about him?”

“Same thing,” 

“Him?” You add another photo. She gives the photo a quick glance, not even trying to fully look. 

“I didn’t kill him,” She addresses. She brings up her short fingernails to inspect. She notices a little dirt and focuses on digging it out. You let out a disbelief sigh, feeling your frustration building. 

“Yes, you did,” You remind her slowly. She lifts her head in amused shock. She leans her head to take a good look at the photo. Her eyes scan the face and then light up.

“Oh! Yes, yes I remember him now. I must have forgotten,’ she giggles, ‘Men look and act too alike.’ You quickly jot it down. You already knew this about her, but it is a small start. 

“So all these men have the same characteristic,” You repeat. She groans and rests her chin on her hand. 

“Yes, isn’t it obvious?” She mumbles. 

“I just need a clarification-“ She cuts you off by saying your name. The way your name rolls off her tongue sends a chill down your spine. It’s the dominating tone she loves to use. You immediately stop talking. You peek up at her between your lashes. She licks her bottom lip and dramatically waves her hand.

“I’ve been waiting for so long to see you and all you’re talking about is some foolish men?!” She fake cries. She pauses between her amusement to think. You furrow your eyebrows at her random action. Suddenly she brings her hand out to touch yours. Her rough fingertips rub the softness of your skin. Your mind storms with thoughts. You fight against yourself from enjoying her touch. Your breathing shakes. The corner of her lips curl into a smile when she realizes your inner struggle. Reality kicks in and you jerk your hand away. Your eyes dart to the camera. There are people on the other side watching. You didn't want them to see. She narrows her eyes and smiles daringly. She can tell you’re worried about the camera. You glare at her, ignoring the pounding of your heart. She pouts and returns her hand to her side. Your tense body starts to relax as you see her lean away. You thought it was the end of her playfulness, but it was just the beginning. 

“They can’t hear us,” She whispers. Suddenly you feel her foot dragging up your calves slowly. You widen your eyes at her to try and stop her. But that was pointless. You self cautiously nibble your bottom lip to ignore the build-up in your lower stomach. You dry swallow and force yourself to look normal. Her eyes darken when she realizes you’re not pulling away. She figures that underneath the table away from view is where she can mess around. 

“I’ve been lonely here,” She sighs, drawing small circles with her fingers on the table. You couldn’t speak as if she cast a spell on you. She drags her foot higher, touching the inner side of your knee. You let out a soft hick in your breath. Your cheeks start to feel warm.  

“Rio,” You warn vocally. She points a finger at you in a taunting way. 

“Let me ask you questions,” She glares. You couldn’t believe how easy it was for her to switch roles. You feel your jaw clench. Why are you so weak around her? It was as if you were the one in handcuffs.

“Did someone touch you while I’m in here?” She challenges. She asks in a joking tone, but you know better. You keep your face stone cold and refuse to talk. Her smile slowly drops. 

She misread you. 

She starts laughing like a maniac with her head tilted back which exposes her bare neck. Within a second she slams her fist onto the table. Your heart skips a beat in fear. Her face darkens and she clenches her jaw. The guard pounds onto the gate as a warning. 

“Who was it?” She commands. How dare she accuse you of such action. You lean close to her face. Her eyes waver at your presence, secretly enjoying your closeness. She nearly leans in, but she composes herself. 

“I am nothing like you,” You grimace. Your expression was laced with disgust. 

“Oh, but you are… admit it,” She taunts. You break eye contact to look down. The room is starting to get stuffy. You shift in your seat uncomfortable.

Rio knew this little part of you the moment she laid eyes on you. You were too infatuated with her crimes. You were never scared around her. You wanted to understand, but the lines between investigation and interest started to blur. You enjoy the chaos that Rio brings… and you hate that. You wanted to just be a normal FBI agent, but everyone else around you is too simple-minded. You needed a spark in which Rio satisfies. 

A nudge of her foot brings you back. Before you can react, she leans her body across the table to invade your space. She inhales your scent and sighs in pleasure. She misses you so much she couldn’t believe how long she was able to last without you. She tilts her head til her lips reach your ears. 

“You feel sick that you love me,” She whispers. Your heart slams against your chest. 

She caught you. The real truth.

You shove yourself away from the table. The chair squeaks awfully against the floor. Photos and papers flutter around and drop. Rio lets out a sickening cackle during the chaos. The guards barge through the gate and rush in. She puts her hand up in surrender. They roughly pull her arms back to handcuff her. She grunts in pain as they manhandle her. The warden rushes to your side to check up on you. 

“Are you alright?” He worries. You place a hand on your racing heart and dry swallow. You glance over to see Rio being dragged out of the room. She tries to give you one last look, but the guards tug her. 

“I am fine,” You reply, brushing your clothes in an attempt to collect yourself. You shakingly grab your bag. You give him a forceful smile before walking out. As you walk down the long hallway you place a hand on your forehead as a headache kicks in. 

-

You slam your hands against the metal table. The tight handcuffs around your wrist are starting to hurt. The detective in front of you rarely budges. Her gray suit hugs her curves well. She points at the bank blueprint. 

“Tell me how you planned the heist,” She orders.

“I didn’t do it!” You argue. She narrows her eyes and leans back into the chair. She tries to read you deeper. You didn’t understand how you got into this position. The detectives are accusing you of a bank heist on which you truly had no time to do. You’ve asked for your FBI team, but the police station refuses to allow you to talk to others. 

“Then explain to me why the robbers knew your name and address. They told us that you were the one who hired them,” She argues. She slams more photos onto the table. Evidence that shows purchasing receipts under your name and many more. You shake your head in shock and confusion. All of this does not make sense. You look up at her with pleading eyes. 

“Please let my FBI team handle this case. It wasn’t me,” You cry. It was a setup, but from who? There are plenty of people who are against you due to your label. The detective shakes her head and starts collecting the papers. She stands up and tugs her suit.

“If you’re not going to cooperate with me. We’ll find another day to discuss. Have fun being locked up for the time being,” She states as she struts away. You tug on the handcuffs and cry out to her. Begging her to let you go and that all of this was a setup. You didn’t care how the metal was digging into your skin. You were innocent. The door shuts, leaving you behind to sob alone in the empty room. 

-

You watch outside the window of the large van carrying other prisoners. Each woman has a different background and crime. You squeeze yourself the furthest away from everyone. You didn’t belong here. The van slows down in front of the prison you were at not long ago. An officer slides the van door open and orders everyone to get out. You helplessly follow along with everyone else. Getting out was a little hard due to the limitations of the handcuffs. The new set of inmates walk in a line to the first room. Everyone is ordered to strip to shower, do a full body search, and then given an orange suit. An officer starts directing everyone to a specific section of the prison when another officer stops you. 

“You. Come with me,” He orders. The other inmates look at you curiously but don’t dare to speak. They start taking a step away from you. You shake your head no, anxiety creeping up. 

“Why?” You squeak. 

He clenches your shoulders and drags you away from the inmates you came in with. You thrash against him til you eventually stop. He tugs you along without saying anything else. You anxiously look around to try and understand where he was bringing you. You notice he was bringing you deeper into the prison. The area begins to be more dark and eerie. You pass by many prison cells. Each is filled with women gawking at you like predators. A few of them whistled and laughed. You’re starting to realize this section of the prison is different from the one you were previously assigned to. 

“W-where are you taking me,” You ask. You try to stop walking, but he continues to push you along. After a few more minutes he stops in front of a prison cell. 

“This is your cell from now on,” He finally speaks up. He removes his hand from your shoulders. You immediately start rubbing the side of your shoulder to ease the gripping pain. He takes out a chain of keys and starts to unlock the cell. The gate swings open and you notice a woman with her back facing you already in it. Your cell partner. You take a step forward to go in, but then quickly stop. The woman in the cell turns around with a sinister smile. 

“Hello, my love,” Rio purrs. Your blood runs cold. You turn and attempt to run, but the officer grabs your body. You fight against him as much as you can. He grunts at the amount of force you're putting out. 

“You can’t put me in here!” You cry out. He pushes you into the cell and slams the gate shut before you can escape. You put your hands out to try and grab him. He quickly slips away and walks down the hallway, ignoring your begging. He disappears and your sobbing quiets down. You clench onto the cold metal gate. It was no use. Shaking, you turn around to face her. She stands at a good distance with a calm expression. 

“Are you done?” She asks. You glare at her venomously. She chuckles, her eyes twinkling. She brings her fingers up to her lips and rubs her bottom. 

“Just you and me again,” She smiles. 

“Don’t touch me,” You warn. She looks at you offended and points at herself. She shakes her head no slowly.

“You have no authority to order me around anymore. We are both here wearing orange suits-“

“I don’t belong here. It was a mistake,” You huff. She starts laughing a little hard while holding her stomach. She collects herself by letting out one small chuckle. She immediately stops and playfully narrows her eyes at you. She takes a teasing step towards you. You try taking a step back, but the gate traps you. 

“I know it was a mistake,” She starts. Your fearful face starts to drop. Your mind racing with the words she just spoke. 

“I mean… look at you. You wouldn’t even hurt a fly,” She whispers. Once she is in front of you she brings her hands up to your chin, slightly gripping it. She looks lovingly into your eyes. 

“I did this to you,” She whispers a confession. You try to shove her back, but she resists. You’ve lost all your strength from earlier. She grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the gate. She gently pulls you deeper into the room and wraps your hand around her shoulders. She then places her hands around your waist and pulls you close. 

“It was easy really. Planning and planting your name in the heist. It was like playing chess,” She whispers. Her breath tickles your ears. She starts swaying her body, forcing you to follow along. A slow dance as she inhales your hair. 

“You manipulating freak,” You choke out. She lets out a soft hum. Her fingers draw slow circles around your hip. 

“You caused this,” She claims. You close your eyes and clench your jaw. 

“I only have a few more days with you till your silly team takes you away from me,” She sighs, pulling away from the hug. She cups the side of your face with her hands. Her eyes are dilated with need. She leans her face to kiss you, but you turn your head to the side. Your heart has a mind of its own. It is pounding loudly. 

“Don’t do that,” She frowns. She takes your hand to place it on her chest. You can feel the fast beats of her heart underneath your fingers. A blush appears on your cheeks. She truly does feel for you. 

“I’ve been good. I waited for you,” She begs for approval. You turn your face to glare at her again. You were not willing to let your walls down. 

“It was my job to seduce you, what do you not understand?” You snap. She shakes her head in denial. Her pupils are black like the void. You could get lost in them. 

“But you fell in love during the act,” She argues. She wants you to admit the truth. She wants you to stop lying to yourself. Your eyes start to water in anger, confusion, and denial. 

“That’s… not true,” You try to sound truthful. 

“Do you really not feel anything when I do this?” She asks before softly pressing her plump lips against yours. You clench your fist as she barely deepens the kiss. She gently pulls away to examine your reaction. You let out a shaky breath, chest pumping up and down. She’s a genius body reader. You knew you couldn’t lie anymore. 

“You’re a criminal… I shouldn’t think this way,” You reject her. You feel your eyes starting to tear up. Your inner struggle is resurfacing. She rubs her thumb against your bottom lip. Her eyes fill with love.

“Don’t think… feel,” She whispers before kissing you again. Your mind threatens to come up with lies until you decide to feel. Just like what she said. She’s a psychopath, her moves are always calculated.. but god you love that so much. Even if this is part of her plan to get you to break, you will give in. You love her sick mind. No one else can think the way she does. 

You kiss back with caution. You shamefully believe a small kiss wouldn’t mean anything. She hums between the shared kiss and it stirs something in you. You wanted to hear it again. You press into the kiss with more passion. Your mouth opens to slide your tongue into her mouth. The feeling of need bursts through your body after being kept hidden. Her tongue touches against yours. She smiles between the kisses as she moans again. She knew she successfully broke you again. You were hers and she never felt happier. She never felt this amount of satisfaction when killing men. No, only you were the one to evoke this feeling in her. 

“Kneel,” She demands as she pulls away from the kiss. Your lips are wet, red, and slightly swollen. You try to kiss her again, but she places her hand on your head. She chuckles a little as she pats your head to go down. You look at her with worried eyes, but she gently assures you. You eventually obey her and start to kneel on the cement floor. The ground is rough on your knees. You rub your hands on her thighs before looping your fingers at her waistline. You tug and help her get her pants and panties off. You lick your lips as you stare at her core. She spreads her legs and gently tugs your head to come closer. Her scent clouds your thoughts. 

“Reward me. I’ve been waiting so long,” She begs. You have never heard her this needy before. You give her inner thighs kisses before you split her folds with your fingers. You stick out your wet tongue and slowly lick her clit. She sighs and rubs her fingers through your hair. Your tongue continues to circle her clit so that you can get her more wet. You give her clit a few sucks which causes her to groan softly. She licks her lips and grips your head harder. Your tongue drags along her slit and back up to her clit. Her juice is starting to leak out more. You hum in satisfaction as your saliva mixes in with her silky juice. Your tongue pushes into her core to collect more. You go back to her clit to lick and suck harder and faster. She rolls her hips into your mouth. You look up to see her cheeks red. Her mouth slightly opens and her lower exposed stomach flexes. You roll your tongue harshly against her clit and she moans. 

“Fuck… I miss this,” She breathes. She puts two hands on your head and pushes you into her. She uses your head to please herself at the pace she wants. You close your eyes and stick out your tongue to make yourself a use for her. Her hips thrusting into your mouth becomes more harsh. Her liquid starts to spread all over your lips and chin. She moans a little louder, causing you to tap her thighs to warn her to stay more quiet. 

“Your mouth feels too good,” She grunts. You grip her thighs to keep her still as you suck and lick hard. She rolls her head back and moans. Her face expresses ecstasy and pleasure. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her mouth opens to whimper and moan. She looks so good like this. Your cunt clenches painfully at nothing. 

“Keep going, I'm close,” She hums. She grabs your hair hard, almost making you cry out. Her juice is rolling down your chin. Her moan starts becoming high-pitched, indicating how much closer she is. You bring your middle and ring finger up. You easily push it into her wet pulsing core. You pull your fingers in and out quickly, before curling and pressing into her walls. You don’t lose focus of your pace. She brings one hand up to cover her mouth from moaning too loud. Her thighs start to shake uncontrollably. She reaches her high and eases herself out by jerking her hips into your mouth. She cusses and moans while gently patting your head. Once she finishes, she tugs your head away from her wet core. Your lower face is covered in her sweet juice. Her chest moves up and down as she catches her breath. She smiles sweetly at you, still kneeling, waiting for her orders. 

“Come here,” She says. You stumble a little getting up from the hard ground. You take off the orange suit. The cold prison air prickles your skin. She pulls you into another passionate kiss. Her finger starts playing with your core, causing you to moan into her mouth. Your cunt is already wet from pleasing her. She easily collects your silk with her middle finger to mess with your clit. You were louder than her, causing her to shut you up with kisses. She doesn’t go slow, she rubs quickly and ruthlessly. You gasp and grip onto her shoulders. 

“You wanted this,” She chuckles. 

“Y-yes,” You pant. She shoves her long middle finger into you. She finds it coming in and out too easily. She decided to add in her ring finger. She wants to feel your walls squeeze around her digits. You feel the air in your lungs getting shut off for a moment. The stretch feels so good. You jerk your hips into her hands. 

“Stay still,” She orders, spreading your legs more. She leans her face back to kiss you as she thrusts her hands into you harder causing your legs to shake. You let out a loud moan which makes her stop. She leans back and glares at you. You were too loud. She takes her other hand to grip your face. Her face is stern. 

“Keep quiet or else the guards will remove you,” She warns. You quickly nod your head while licking your lips. It might be a hard task, but you’re not willing to risk it. 

She releases her grip from your face. She places her hand over your mouth to shut it. She returns to adding a third finger in without warning. You sob into her hands. Your stomach clenches in pain and pleasure. The wet sounds of her fingers thrusting into your core are embarrassingly loud. She loves it so much. If she couldn’t hear your screams at least she can hear this. Your silk is running down her knuckles, making a mess. She leans her lips to your ears and whispers praises. 

“You’re such a good dirty girl for me,” She purrs. You clench around her digits and shut your eyes. You cuss into her hands. Your legs start to shake and you feel yourself getting close. She hungrily craves your orgasm. She keeps her fast and harsh pace, causing you to hold onto her or else you will fall. You moan and whimper into her palm. She can feel you getting close. She knows your body too well. 

“Come for me baby,” She licks the shell of your ears. With a few more harsh thrusts, your breathing stops as you release yourself to her. She continues fingering you through your orgasm. Your liquid rolls down your thighs. She removes her other hand from your lips and you gasp for air. She gently pulls her three fingers out of you. Your core is still pulsing. She shushes you and kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then to your lips. You try your best to kiss her back as you still feel lightheaded. You pull away, holding her face close to yours. 

“I love you,” You weakly confess. You allow yourself to feel. You didn’t care if everyone was going to judge you. She pauses in awe. She couldn’t believe it at first, but your words finally reached into her heart. She engulfs you in a hug. You can feel the vibration from her laughter. The sound echoes down the hallway. The guards and inmates furrow their eyebrows. The first time they hear the ‘lady of death’ in pure happiness.

[r3dkn0ts]

omg hi bestie 🫶 could i maybe get some wesker x ftm trans reader (he/him pronouns + idc what u use to refer to his genitalia) !! sfw n nsfw are both okey, surprise me ^__^

i know what you are 🫵

SFW + NSFW RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS FOR ALBERT WESKER W/ A TRANS MALE PARTNER

Themes: Wesker-level fluff and sexy smutty stuff Warnings: Canon-typical violence, slight possessiveness, and he's kind of an asshole, but I think you already knew that

SFW Relationship Headcanons - Wesker is a tsundere. There, I said it. - He started a romantic relationship with you, which means that he saw something special in you. He won't tell you what it is. - Before the relationship was established, he'd try and act like he had no interest in you. Negative interest, to be specific. Wouldn't even look you in the eye. Nobody was any the wiser. - He was trying to convince himself that he'd never feel romantic feelings towards someone so much lesser than him. It probably also has to do with his repressed bisexuality. - He'd never admit that, though. He has common sense, even if he is a total maniac. - When or if you tell him you're transgender, he won't think much of it. - He's a scientist and knows how biology works, so he won't ask the questions someone with less knowledge or from a time before modern medicine would. - If you're shorter than him, he'll tease you about it relentlessly. He'll put things on high shelves where you can't reach just so you have to ask him for help. - He's kind of protective of you. He won't say it out loud, but if another killer hurts you more than what The Entity demands, he'll take things into his own hands. - Wesker loves putting his arm around your waist or shoulders when you're around others just to display that you're his. - He may not say it out loud a lot, but he does love you. Just in his own way.

V CLICK READ MORE FOR NSFW HEADCANONS V

NSFW Relationship Headcanons - Wesker isn't a particularly horny person, but if you brush up against him just right or make a move, he'll get a boner pretty quickly. - As you'd expect, Wesker loves to be serviced, but he doesn't mind taking care of your needs once you're all squirmy and desperate. - If you want him, you have to beg. Convince him that you need him inside you or his tongue on you. - It inflates his ego and turns him on all the more. - He loves using Uroboros to his advantage in the bedroom. He'll hold you against walls or pin your wrists down with his tentacles, or maybe even use them more proactively. - Even if there's no bedroom nearby, he'll just fuck you wherever he sees fit. He doesn't care if anybody catches you two. It just adds to the thrill. - He tries not to be a very vocal guy during sex, but if your tongue hits the right spot or you tell him how good he feels inside you, he might accidentally slip out a moan or groan. - He loves cumming inside and watching his seed spill out, but he loves even more to finish in your mouth or on your face. - He'll try and help you clean up afterwards if you two make a mess. He doesn't want you to think he just uses you for sex.

[magnoliabutters]

• MUNSON’S GUIDING LIGHT •

pairing: eddie munson x (he/him) reader

summary: a night of endless opportunities that mustn’t be wasted

warnings: 18+, mdni, adult language; novice reader, references to previous parts, detailed oral (m receiving), teacher/student dynamics, male on male smut, discussion of consent, internal dialogue, reader referred to as “j,” etc.

word count: ~4.2k

• the banished ones • part four •

reblogs always for the sweet lgbt+ munson

note: welcome back <3 guess what? pride never ends.

Munson makes his way up the creaking steps. You quicken your walk to follow closely behind. He opens the door and gestures for your entry. Not a care left standing. “You don’t lock your house?” you ask, baffled. He laughs as he closes the door behind you. “The only person who tried to rob from me was Lonny Branson, who lives up front. I made sure to handle that,” he says proudly. You walk through the doorway with a giddy smile.

“Handle it?” you ask with a scoff. “Yeah, he stole from me and I stole that TV from him,” Munson says with chuckle, pointing towards the TV pressed up against the living room wall. “He doesn’t try anything anymore.” You nod, finding his way of handling things intriguing. You’re positive that this way is definitely more effective than your own. He is fearless. You very much enjoy that about him.

He walks to the kitchen, diving into the fridge as you stare into the black screen of the TV. “Did you want one?” he says, calling your attention. He shakes a bottle in his hand as he awaits your answer. “Yes, please,” you say almost instantaneously. The thought of having a little liquid courage would be undeniably helpful.

Munson smirks as he returns from the kitchen with two cold bottles locked in his fingers. He hands you one, then twists off the top of his and takes a swig. His eyes still on you as you start to twist off yours. Embarrassingly, you have trouble with it. The ripples of the metal rip in to your palm. A wince falls from your lips. You’re used to bottle openers.

He bursts into stifled laughter, almost spitting out his sip. “What?” you say with a whine. “You’re just cute,” he says after recovering from his fit. He grabs the bottle from your hand, twists off the cap, and hands it back to you. “Thank you,” you say genuinely. You lift the bottle to your lips as he watches you with encouragement.

You raise your brows, nodding your head - unsure of what to do at that point. “Mm’good,” you mutter as you pull the bottle away. He laughs again, “You’re a freak. Common.” He gently reaches for your wrist with a smile as he guides you to his couch. You follow him happily, landing on the cushion beside him. He digs the heels of his big boots against the coffee table.

Awkwardly, you sit beside him. Your attention peering through your peripherals every so often. Unclear of what to do next. What is expected? The silence filling the air is something that bothers you. You have to fill it, and yet you’re holding yourself back from doing so. Munson takes another swig before resting his head back against the top of the couch. You wish you could relax, just be beside him and maybe even try to find comfort within the silence. But your anxiety would never let that happen.

Almost as though his telepathy appeared again, Munson speaks. “So where did you get the name ‘J?’” he asks, turning towards you. He hooks his knee onto the cushion. His arm sprawled against the couch’s outline. You let out a breath of relief, incredibly thankful for his lead. “I was named after my grandfather, and his nickname used to be ‘J’ so it just kinda stuck,” you answer as you press your shoulder against the cushion so you were fully looking at him and all his glory.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you start. “Do you like Munson or should I be calling you ‘Eddie?’” Munson smiles, biting his lip. “Only Todd calls me Munson for the most part,” he shares. “He’s got a whole thing with calling people by their last names.” You watch as his eyes light up before you. He must really look up to the President of Hellfire. “But, I like when you call me Munson,” he mutters as he curls in to himself. He hides behind his bottle. “It feels like a special thing between us,” he mumbles in a whisper.

Your chest feels warm at the thought of Munson wanting and expressing something special between you two. You catch yourself recognizing just how lucky you are to have found him. To have him walk down that hall and cross paths with you and that asshole. That he decided to help you without even knowing you, or knowing what was to come.

“Sounds good, Munson,” you say with a smirk. His smile beams as he leans his head against your shoulder. Your heart races anytime his skin touches yours. Your hand slowly floats to his cheek, lightly holding him against you - hoping he’ll never leave. His arm slowly crawls over your stomach and onto your chest as he digs into the embrace.

Slowly, you turn your chins towards your shoulder. You lay a kiss against his temple. He raises his sleepy head to give you a peck. God, every time your lips touch, your mind explodes. Why would you ever want to leave? With confidence, you slide your tongue in his mouth. He meets you halfway before your lips crash around each other.

Munson hums as your movements fly in tandem. His hand now traveling down to your pant leg. Your chin bobs against him as his tongue slides gracefully into your mouth. Soft gasps escape you as you sink back into the couch. The base of his palm lands against your hardening cock.

Before you knew it, your hand travels to his waist. Nails digging into the soft skin found beneath his shirt. Fingers crawl over to his own pants as you hum against him. The vibrations tickling his nose and he digs deeper into your kiss. His lips taste like jelly, sweet sweet marmalade. He licks them in a way that makes your skin reverberate. You wish you could lick his plump lips, always. It should be you, it should be your tongue.

One more kiss and Munson raises his bottle between you. He takes a swig while keeping his eyes on you. “God, you’re gorgeous,” you whisper in genuine awe. A disconnect between the mind and your brain. “I don’t believe in God,” he murmurs. He leans closer and closer to you with that taunting smile of his. “But thank you.”

He leans back onto the cushion, giggling, as he takes another sip of his beer. “Movie?” he asks, tipping his bottle towards the VHS underneath his TV. Your eyes widen, excited by his collection. “Woah,” you utter as you lean down from the couch. You crawl towards the wooden cabinet. The fluffed carpet seething between your fingers. “Fast times, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Friday the 13th, The-The Shining,” you turn to him with amazement. “I had to sneak out and go to an entirely different city to watch these!”

Munson scoffs, “Why?” A bit of his lip lifting as his perfect teeth shine back at you. You turn back to him in confusion within the folds of amazement. “My mom would kill me if she knew I watched these movies,” you mutter as you look over more of his collection. You follow your index finger as it rides over the curves of the VHS cases. “You really haven’t done much, have yah?” he asks. His elbows now resting on his knees as he leans towards you.

“Why do you say that?” you ask with vulnerability. You bite the inside of your cheek. The slight pain and gummy sensation pull from those anxious feelings you’ve come to know. “I-I just want to know if there’s any bad,” he says softly. He lands onto his knees, crawling towards you. His hair almost at the length of his elbows. His devilish smirk as the words fall from his mouth. “Have you been a bad boy?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Your eyes now highly aware of how his canine digs into his deep rose lips. How his eyes glisten in this lighting. How each of his curls some how perfectly matches the other so naturally. And even though your gut is screaming at you to say it - you can’t force yourself to lie to Munson. “No,” you whisper. Your eyes dropping to your hands as they rest on your lap.

You lost it. You ruined everything. All you had to do was lie. Now he probably thinks you’re an innocent virgin who hasn’t done shit. Which is not at all true. You did smoke pot, that-that one time. A finger at your chin rips you from your thoughts. “My sweet boy,” he coos. His lips just inches from yours. You can feel his soft breath against your cheek. “I’ll be enough of a bad boy for the both of us.”

Eyes raise with hope before you crash your lips against his. You see stars, sparkles, rainbows. You hear and feel everything. Electricity runs through you both as you lean further into the kiss. Your eyes closed tight as your fingers hold at his cheek. His hand made its way to your waist, slowly crawling to your lower back.

Each breath away from him was a breath you would regret. You bite into his kiss. Passion overfilling you. A drive so powerful you refuse to deny it. Tongues and mouths devour each other as you begin to lean atop of him. With soft hands, Munson guides you towards the couch. His back pressed against it, as you are a puddle between his thighs. Your chest was thick against his, and you can feel every breath. Now grateful for breath.

“Mmm,” you let out as his hands begin to explore your body. His soft, yet rough, beautiful hands that would make you feel safe and warm for all eternity. You never want him to stop. As his tongue pressed against yours, you feel a sensation of emptiness in the back of your throat. Your teeth crash against his bottom lip, sucking and holding him hostage until another peck is thrown upon you. The metal taste embraces the tip of your tongue as he laughs against you.

“Fuck,” Munson whispers as he reaches for your pants. His fingers hastily unbuckling your belt while you lean all your body against his chest and chin. Your back straightens so he has no problem taking off your pants. With a touch so gentle, yet rough, he holds the outline of your cock within his palm. You let out a loud moan into his mouth at the sensation. You feel your tip pulsating as it craves him. Your hips grind against the shagged carpet as you dig deeper into the kiss.

His touch becomes tighter as his dick firms beneath you. It’s girth thick as it presses against your bare thigh. God, you can’t stop thinking about it. You would be lying if you said the thought of it wasn’t playing on repeat in the back of your mind since the fight. How big was it? How girthy? How thick? Was he cut? Is he groomed? Or is he a wild man? Your mind can’t stop, thinking through every possibility - drooling as you do.

Finally, you dig your own fingers within his black ripped jeans. His palming hand now reaches for you cheeks as his tongue continues to play with yours. You grab hold of his huge buckle, pulling the belt quick and rough from around his waist. His fingernails dig into your skin as you unzip his pants. He lets out a big sigh as his bulging cock throbs just beneath the thin layer of his boxers.

His dark blue briefs perfectly outlining it for your precious eyes. You pull away to gawk at his physique. At the beauty of his pale skin against the black ink. How the freckles gather at the very end of his sternum. How his waist comes to a perfect V. How his happy trail consists of light brown hair leading beneath his waistband. He is everything.

Your eyes raise to his as you begin to tug at his boxers. He answers with a smiling bite to your lower lip. You pull the cloth down, looking at your handy work, and you swear your heart stops beating. Your hands freeze. Munson is all man. A burly dark brown bush that you prayed for since you were 14. He is the ‘70’s rockstar of your dreams, and fuck, did he wear that bush well.

“Only if you want to, sweet boy,” Munson whispers against your lips. His gaze barely flicking up at you. Those warm, chocolate eyes. You take a few breaths to gather courage. You want to see it so badly but you don’t know even the slightest thing about what to do beyond that! What if what he did for you wouldn’t work for him? What if you can’t get him off? What if you leave him and yourself with a pair of complicated blue balls?

Your breathing quickens just before your fingers could pull any further. Munson watches you, noting how your chest rises and falls. His fingers wrap around your forearm. His eyes seek your own. He slows his own breath as he places a palm to your chest. “Only if you want to, J,” he murmurs. You stay, staring into his eyes, as though you doubted his sincerity.

You break the gaze, peering down at his lower stomach. “I-I just don’t know how,” you whisper. Your eyes begin to well, but you look into the mustard fuzzy carpet to pull from your emotions. The embarrassment still seeping from within. “Baby,” he whispers. “You don’t have to-” You take a heavy sigh, landing into a kneel between his legs. “I want to!” you say with exasperation. A deep breath falling from your lips. “I just don’t know how,” you repeat slowly.

His finger rests beneath your chin, guiding your gaze back towards him. “I can help,” Munson suggests. “I can walk you through it, if-if you want.” Your ears feel hot. Cheeks reddening with each touch. “It wouldn’t ruin it for you?” you ask under your breath. A scoff pulls your eyes on him. A raising brow as you worriedly watch his expression.

“No,” Munson coughs. A beautiful and comforting smile forming across his face. “No, I-I would very much like that.” Your brows raise and a gulp falls from your throat. You can feel his gaze upon you, watching any move your face makes. Determining whether or not you want to do this, whether or not you are truly ready.

But you know. You don’t need his soothing. His coddling. You wanted him. You’ve wanted him since you first laid your eyes on him.

With confidence, you lift the boxers over his tip. You pull it’s waistline down, down to his knees. The band tightening around his outer thighs. Your palm squeezing atop his ivory skin. “Handsome,” he mutters as he peers at you. His fingers brushing through the lazy strands of your hair until his palm cups your cheek. A smile perks at that side before you turn in to kiss his softness as you lock eyes.

After a good minute of comfortable silence, your gaze falls from Munson’s. On to his nose. To his strong chin. To the quiver of his adam’s apple. To the gentle curled locks that rest against his collar bone. To his chest, his pecks. To the happy trail you have come to adore. To his rocker’s bush. To the girthy cock that raises from it.

You instinctually wrap your fingers around his base. A surprising gasp falls from his lips, drawing your attention, but his smile quickly comforts you. “You can squeeze,” he whispers with nods of encouragement. “But not too hard. It’s no different than when you’re touching yourself.” You tighten your grip but ensure that its a balanced squeeze.

His chin raises, straightening his neck, as he lets out a shaky breath. The sight and sound draw all your blood to your lower extremities. As you continue your pulsating squeezes, your focus is placed upon the strong vein beneath his cock. Your thumb rubs against that firm spot. Slow circles and some tracing of his vein between squeezes.

Sharp breaths fall from his lips. His brows now furrow. His tongue licking his bottom lip before crashing a sharp tooth against it. “You can - you can go up and down,” he whispers. While massaging underneath, your squeezing fingers begin to trace up and down his shaft. You stop just under his head. Your thumb flirts with the idea of that hardened, warm spot. His breath quickens. His nails digging into the roots of your hair.

You continue to follow your instincts, using his moaning breaths as your guide. Your thumb brushes against his tip. A few rounds of massage and you coerce a bead of precum from his slit. You can feel yourself hardening beneath your boxers. God was he fucking hot.

Using his own lube, you quicken your movements. Munson adjusts beneath you. His back straightening as his groin grows closer and closer to you. Your other hand rests gently at his under carriage. A thumb maneuvering between his balls. “Oh fuck,” he whines. The crown of his head digs into the couch’s cushion.

Your hand quickens. The sounds of your slapping skins pressing against each other. Your mouth begins to water as you hang before his pink cock. Eyes closing, you quicken your ribs and squeezes. His muscles tighten beneath you. “Ooooooh,” he moans. You remain focused on his body, on turning his body into a puddle. “Yeah, you like that?” The worlds fall from your lips, completely disconnected from your mind.

“Oh god, I love that,” Munson murmurs. His hand retreating from your hair and is now pressed against his forehead. With each whimper that stills the air, your mouth lowers onto his tip. You are salivating, almost as though you were about to eat a sour candy. You want it. You’ve been wanting it. Him.

Lowering your mouth, you curl your lips around his head. Your eyes close as your hands sustain their movements. The tip of your tongue draws firm circles around this slit, and then his head. “Oh shit,” he cries. A tighter grip against the roots of your hair. You loved it. A harsh exhale falls upon his delicate skin as the pain lingers on your scalp.

You take more of him in, desperate for more and more. More of him. More of his moans. More of his touch. You peer up to catch his fluttering eyelashes. Your tongue lathers his staff, further lubricating his skin. “Faster, f-faster,” he murmurs. You do your best to oblige him. Holding your breath with each dip of your head.

Without touching yourself, you have an abundance of pleasure within your actions. You never thought taking delicate care of another, in making them happy, that you, in return, would be dying in your own pants. You love making him squirm. You love making him feel damn good.

Before, your thumb gently massaged at his sack. Now, his balls rest within your mouth. A delicate suck as your fingers rub his shaft thoroughly. “Ooo,” Munson hisses. “Not too hard.” He tries to inch away from you, breathy chuckling as he does. “I’m sorry,” you mumble as you raise your eyes towards him. You swipe the back of your hand to the side of your mouth.

“No, no, no,” he whispers. “Don’t apologize for this. This is - everything you’re doing is - is amazing.” A hitch of your smile and you lick your lips. You return your lips to his pretty little cock. “Oh shit, oh shit,” he whimpers with brows pushed together. You can feel his larger muscles tightening beneath you. “Faster, just-” he mumbles on. “Just a little…”

Following his guidance, you quicken your movements. Your tongue wrapping hastily at his head. Fingers wrapped around his staff, rough and tight. “Just like that,” Munson whimpers. “P-please. God, don’t stop.” His hips begin to rut, soft at first but they grow in force with each of your strokes.

The strength of his waist fills you with dreams, endless possibilities. Fuck, you wish you could feel it behind you. This strength is the sensation you’ve been wanting since you knew the truth about yourself. The heart that races in your chest digs his cock deeper within your throat. You breathe softly from your nostrils as you can feel his soft curls at the tip of your nose.

“J, J,” Munson mumbles as his breathing begins to fluster. “Fuck, pull back, pull back.” He lightly pushes at your shoulders. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns. Both your hands grip on his outer thigh, taking all of him in. At that exact moment, you taste salt on your tongue, you hear his moans grumble within his chest. His body shaking and pulsating beneath you.

Sudden and tight jolts rut from his hips once again before his body gradually becomes limp. You pull back, swallowing the salted gift you’ve received. A smile broadens across your face as you peer back at him. The sweat pools into drops heavy against his forehead. You can see where his curls have glued to his skin.

With a deep exhale, Munson whispers, “Fuck, baby.” Despite his weakness, he reached for your cheek again. You help his touch by leaning forward for him. “That was so not your first time,” he mutters with a exhausted chuckle. “No, I just had a great teacher,” you whisper. Your lips pecking against his palm.

He rests harshly against the border of the couch. His hand raises slightly and gestures for you to come closer. You happily follow his instruction, especially when both hands collapse at your cheeks and pull you into an incredible kiss. A kiss like no other. A kiss that screams love and care, not a simple “thanks for sucking me off.”

It’s becoming increasingly clear who Munson is to you. What he has become. Who you wish he would be. The floating butterflies in your stomach. The fluttering bubbles in your chest. The way you can physically feel your breath stall any time you lay your eyes upon him. The way you can physically feel the sparkles in your eyes. Love?

Love.

“Common,” Munson says as he struggles to raise from his sit. He reaches for his bottle, still resting upon the side table, and takes a quick sip. He lets out a refreshing sigh as his arm extends for you. A smile glowing behind his brunette locks. You grin as you reach for his hand and are pulled from the floor. He plants another kiss against your lips, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

As he pulls away, his eyes still rest upon you. They communicate undeniable words, confirming your own feelings. Two of his fingers are interlocked with yours as he guides you further into his home. He walks backwards, stalking as he does. His eyes rake over your body. He busily looks over your features, attempting to find any indication of doubt or worry. You have none and you see that in his eyes as well.

“Sweet boy,” Munson whispers as he steps past his bedroom’s doorway. You answer the challenge, dying for more of his touch. His arms wrap around your neck as he pulls you in closer. You lean down with a smirk before crashing your lips upon his. He kicks the door closed with those big boots, as you guide him to his mattress. You both crash against each other with the bounce of his bed.

“J,” he murmurs as he pushes a piece of hair from your face. He always has to ask. Has to verbally ask. You appreciate it. It further solidified your knowledge of how strong and good of a man he is, despite his many references of being a “bad guy.” You press your lips against his cheek, an act of adoration and admiration. “I want this, Munson,” you whisper. “I want you. Always.”

note: oh goodness, i cannot wait to get to our finale ♥️

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