#and kick something to help me process positive feelings

[pinkblondie]

It's so nice to see you pop into my feed right before I go to bed. Having something so beautiful to see is sure to give me good dreams or at least fun hopefully 😘

I hope you have a good day beautiful you already made mine better 😊

AaaaAaaAaa!!!!♡ STOP BEING SO NICE, I love you

[rafey-baby]

rafe has always been close with his sister...(part two)

c/w: incest, some dubcon touching & a kiss from rafe, both of them are more or less drunk, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.3k

previous part & moodboard

if this is something u don’t like, scroll & read something else xx

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s well past 3 am when they stumble through the front door— wobbly on their feet and drunkenly giggling about some stupid joke Rafe had muttered while fumbling with the keys. Yet another party her big brother had dragged her into, and if it weren’t for his hands on her hips guiding her upstairs right now, she’d wake up the entire house tumbling down the stairs when she’d inevitably loose her footing.  

“Rafe, m’never going out with you again. Told you I wanted to leave like two hours ago,” she complains the moment they make it to her bedroom; her feet aching and head spinning.   

“‘N she’s complainin’ again. I mean, my apologies for wantin’ to—to show m’little sister a good time,” he huffs, peeling off the shirt that’s beginning to stick to his skin. “Don’t even try t’act like you didn’t have fun.”  

“Well, yeaah, but now m’sooo tired and gross and I need to shower and…” she yawns around the rest of the words; hand on his bicep for balance while she kicks off her shoes. 

“Don’t— don’t need to worry ‘bout that, told you I’d help you out, yeah?” he slurs, already beginning to tug down the zipper of her dress.  

“Nooo…can’t shower yet. Need to take m’makeup off first,” she blabbers, brows pulling together as if he’s just committed some heinous crime, making him roll his eyes before he’s searching through her vanity for makeup remover.  

And despite her drowsy resistance about wanting to shower alone, Rafe manages to drag her into the bathroom (after wiping her face clean) anyway — the thermal water soaking through her fatigued limbs feeling entirely too good for her to push him away when he corners her behind the shower curtain, its printed seashells beginning to twirl against the cream-colored material when she stares at them for too long. 

And she’s almost starting to believe he’s truly doing all of this for altruistic purposes; thoroughly washing her hair for her and making sure to coat the strands with a generous amount of conditioner afterwards.

But when his soapy palms mindlessly glide along the wet skin on her tummy— inching closer and closer towards her tits, she realizes that she was wrong. However, she’s far too out of it to care, and upon noticing the fact, he’s letting his eager paws grope at the squishy flesh; covering them in the foamy shower gel in the process.  

Only when his thumb is smoothing over a sensitive nipple, does she blink away the haziness blurring the lines of what a brother should and shouldn’t do to his sister. And at first, her dozy complaint doesn’t even reach his ears because he’s entirely too focused on the way her tits fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, wondering how it would feel to—  

“Rafe…can you not do that?” she suddenly takes a tentative step back.  

“Hm? Jus’ makin’ sure you feel all nice ‘n clean,” he drawls out, seemingly confused before he’s tugging her closer with a hold on her waist. “Can you wash my hair next?” he pleads; an abrupt attempt to distract her intoxicated brain. 

“I can barely stand and you want me to wash your hair? Can’t even reach your head when you’re a fucking giant.”  

But when he leans down for her, she reluctantly begins to lather the shampoo into his roots— gaining a delighted grunt from the back of his throat when her fingers absentmindedly dig into his scalp. However, with the new position, he’s now eye-level with her tits; soap bubbles and water droplets trickling down the smooth skin, and with his thoughts muddled, he’s unable to resist the allure for very long before he’s gravitating towards them.  

“Rafe, stoop,” she stumbles backwards when she feels the flat of his tongue laving over the valley of her breasts.

“M’sorry.” But he doesn’t seem all that sorry, not when he looks up at her under his lashes, offering her an inebriated grin— something nauseating coiling in her belly in response.  

- - - - - - - - - -

When they finally make it out of the shower, he insists on patting her dry, the foggy mirror saving her the absolute mortification of having to watch her brother’s eyes skim across the expanse of her bare skin during the unnecessarily long process.  

“Let me take care of m’favorite sister, yeah?” he croons when he’s tugging down the hem of her sleep shirt afterwards — a shirt that just so happens to be stolen from him, the worn fabric apparently softer than anything of her own.  

She’s unsure as to why he’s suddenly being so nice, but she’s not exactly complaining when his uncharacteristically gentle fingertips daub her face with her night cream when they sit down on her bed— making sure to rub the moisturizer into her forehead as well. And she thinks he almost looks cute like this; brows furrowed in concentration, flicking her nose with a sleepy smile when he’s finished.   

“That smells so fuckin’ good,” he groans after applying a layer of chapstick to her lips; his heady gaze fixed on the action of her rubbing them together, something she’s too dozy to notice.

“I know, right? I looove anything vanilla-scented,” she gushes over the product while placing the rest of the skincare on her nightstand.  

“Can I— uh, try it?” his question sounds innocent enough, but she should know better.  

“Of course,” the naive girl fully expects him to uncap the lip balm once more but instead, he’s suddenly grabbing her jaw into his massive hands and pressing his mouth against hers— swallowing her surprised squeak before she’s quickly pulling away.   

“Rafe, you promised you weren’t gonna do that anymore,” she whines, but the way her button-eyes blink up at him — the betrayal so tangible — lures him in to do it again; smearing their mouths together with a satisfied hum before she’s shoving at his shoulder.  

“Ray, m’serious, it was one time,” she lets out an annoyed huff.  

“Calm down, m’lips were jus’ dry, alright?”  

“You could’ve just— nevermind, m’too tired for this right now,” her attempts at putting some much needed space between them prove to be futile when he just follows her under the covers— acting as if he doesn’t hear her muttering how he should sleep in his own bed for a change.  

“Listen, m’sorry, okay? Don’t like when you’re mad at me,” he ignores her protests and nestles his face into her neck, nose soon nudging her throat and eliciting a somnolent giggle from her. 

“Ray, stop. You’re being annoying,” she tries to swat his hands away when his fingers suddenly begin to poke and prod at her sides because he knows how ticklish she is.  

“Yeah? Tell me you forgive me then.” 

Involuntary laughter bubbles from her chest when she shakes her head and squirms in his arms— desperately trying to wriggle away, but he’s much stronger and she’s no match. And when she grows even louder, he’s forced to slap his palm over her mouth to muffle the noise.

“Shut up, Sarah’s gonna wake up ‘n tell dad we were out late again,” he hisses, suddenly remembering how his other sister is sleeping on the other side of the wall, nonetheless continuing his attack when she attempts to escape once more.

“Stop tickling me then,” she manages out between fits of laughter, uncomfortably writhing in his hold because she hates when he does this. However, she quickly realizes he’s not planning on stopping anytime soon, and the feeling is quickly turning into something unbearable, more or less forcing her to finally let out a sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I forgive you— whatever, jus’ let me sleep.” 

His breathy chuckle fans the expanse of her neck before he finally relents, but when she tries to shift away from him, he merely tucks her closer against his naked chest; large palm slipping under the hem of her shirt to splay over the expanse of her stomach to keep her right where she is.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs into her hair, tone suddenly desperate, needy. It makes her swallow around the knotted coil in her throat before she reluctantly gives up altogether— entirely too exhausted to put up a fight when sleep is already dragging her into its dreamy embrace and she feels so warm like this.

[xoxochb]

okay..riding percys abs?

giggles n blushes n kicks feet

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“take these off.”

percy loops his finger around the waistband of your panties, tugging at them gently as to not hurt you in any way.

you weren’t planning to take them off, you quite like seeing him complain. but you also like his green puppy eyes a little too much. you roll your eyes and slide them down your legs, positioning yourself to straddle his abdomen.

you shake your head slightly to get your hair out of your face. percy, from underneath you, watches attentively. his hands ride up to hold your waist from beneath your his shirt. he wants that off too but won’t persist or you may never crawl back on top of him.

and the thought alone brings him to tears.

you lean down with a smile, and peck his nose gently before beginning to rock your hips with a slow rhythm along him. when you pull back he looks dazed, yet utterly pleased with your actions.

his grasp on your waist tightens to help you move against him. “ya look like a goddess.”

“mhmmm, flattering.”

percy’s mind goes blank— fuzzy at both the sight of you and the feeling of you riding his abdomen, it makes his tummy fluttery in a way that’s nearly embarrassing to admit.

you lean down again, pecking his forehead, nose, each cheek, both eyelids, and his lips once as you buck your hips violently into him, making him sigh into your mouth.

that makes your tummy fluttery!

you hear percy murmur something incoherent, ‘something something sweet girl’ and that’s about all you heard between his breaths.

you enjoy seeing him like this, helpless and completely at your mercy all because you’re pantie-less and dripping over his skin.

with the mere thought, you close your eyes and quicken your pace, eager to elicit further responses from him such as prior. percy’s hands slide down to your hips, near grabbing your ass in the process, nails digging into your skin sure to leave marks for later.

you bite your lip and stifle your sighs, though a slight moan leaving when you feel him rocking beneath you to help your creeping climax find you.

“gonna come on me?”

you nod your head only in response. though indeed you do.

[dwaekkicidal]

Hey cutie, you've done puppy Seungmin and WolfChan, but what about when the bunny reader is in heat? I mean, she's always grinding on Channie, giving him hickies everywhere, just feeling way more possessive than she normally does, she's just onto him 24/7. (Also, if you're comfortable, please could you describe the reader as chubby? Sorry, English is my fourth language lol 😅)

Also, I looove your work. You're one of my most favourite Tumblr writers.

🥲🥲🥲 that last comment got me kicking my feet n shit :')) thank u that means a lot to me <3

wc» ~600

cw» kinda? chubby fem!reader, bunny!hybrid reader, heats, p in v, breeding (everybody act surprised), pregnancy mentions: 'kits' are baby bunnies btw

❥ Chris absolutely LOVES when your heat is coming around. He loves how clingy you get and the way you rub your face on everything you can.

❥ It's just all so endearing to him. The way you stay glued to his arm when you're out and about with him, and then once you're home you just push him onto the couch and throw yourself on top of him, expecting his immediate attention and cuddles.

❥ And the way you rub your cheek all over his arms or his tummy when you're cuddling with him, it being your nonverbal way of requesting his love and affection.

❥ He gets sooo riled up when your heat first hits. He always notices the day it starts, but you never seem to connect the dots. As if the way you latch yourself onto his neck and suck pretty, dark marks into his neck as your nails dig into his arm don't give it away.

❥ Your foggy little brain doesn't really process why the sloppy makeout sessions get you so built up and horny, or why you suddenly need his hands on you at all times during these sessions. It's almost as if you're subconsciously trying to make him claim you

❥ He feels like get into his own "human heat" when yours starts. The way you need him and his seed so carnally at all hours of the day drives him insane. Even more so when he wakes up the next morning to shower and finds deep, red scratches all over his arms and his back- he's almost the one waking you up ready to go again.

❥ It's still endearing even as you grind down onto him on the couch during movie night. Your lack of panties under your shorts being obvious thanks to the slick that's getting all over his sweatpants and leaving a dark spot right above his dick

❥ He'll just sit there with a dopey smile on his face as his fingers dig into the fat of your hips, helping you use him to get off, and even encouraging you.

"Shh... Good job baby. Take what's yours, yeah?"

"Channie's got you, Bunny. Keep being good and I'll breed you nice a deep."

❥ AbsoLUTELY eggs on your desire to get bred during your heat. During downtime will show you pictures of little Bunny-hybrid kits (that vaguely look like one of you) and will just so happen to scroll past baby clothes when he's doing online shopping "for us"

❥ And when he has you below him, bent into a million positions and drooling all over your nest, he's going to talk non-stop about how good you'll look round and full of his babies- of "our kits"

❥ He's gonna pound you so good and so deep as he says all these things, even telling you that he's gonna breed your heat away; that he's gonna fuck you so well and get you so pregnant so often that you won't remember what a heat even is

❥ Loves grabbing onto your tummy and pushing down onto it when he has you in missionary- making you really feel how deep he is and how deep his cum will be soon

❥ Sometimes even just rubs your stomach and says something about how "This is where my babies are" and how he's gonna keep his kin safe no matter what

❥ Is already a huge "boobs guy" and literally jumps off the fucking walls when he latches onto your tits and says something like "I need to enjoy these while I can. When we have kids, I won't be able to see them nearly as often" Will pout sooo hard while saying that and looks at them as if the world is ending

[vivid-dreamscapes]

Period cuddles <3 ~Bakugou x Reader~

(I have hella bad cramps rn and I’m waiting for the meds to kick in, so I’m writing this as a distraction)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Tw; Swearing, cause Bakugou. Minor suggestiveness.

Themes; Fluff

Summery; You manage to rope Katsuki into cuddles to soothe your cramps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pain. Pain. PAIN.

You were lying on your bed in your dorm, one arm draped across your eyes as you waited for the meds to kick in.

It felt like every knife within a 700 mile radius of your was violently jabbing at your inner thighs, abdomen, stomach, and of course, the ever so lovely low room that caused this all.

Cramps. PERIOD cramps. Your heating pad was being borrowed by your best friend Mina, so the painkillers were your only hope right now. And they were failing at being the thing you were here at UA to be,

After a moment, you heard a knock on your door. You looked up to see your ever so lovely boyfriend Katsuki leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a plastic bag hanging from his finger.

“Oi, dumbass. You sick?” He said, raising an eyebrow at you, looking at your position. To him, it looked like you were just being lazy, but any other person out there with cramps would understand.

You groaned, clutching your stomach slightly as you looked at him. Lucky ass men. They didn’t have to deal with nothin like this. Cause they didn’t get burn with a uterus.

“I hate your dick.”

You grumbled, getting him to raise his eyebrow higher. Ironic, you had saying the exact opposite two nights ago.

“Remove the ‘H’ babe.” Katsuki said with a completely stoic face, walking over. You rolled your eyes. “Haha.” You said flatly, looking away. He sat down next to you, setting down the plastic bag. Your could see some instant ramen and a really good boba kit in the bag, causing your mouth to water.

“You on your period or somethin’?”

“Wowwww, he had a brain.”

Katsuki frowned and rolled his eyes at your sarcastic remark.

“Shut up, smartass. You don't have to be a jerk about it. But seriously, are you on your period or not? That why you're acting all moody and crap?"

“I’m on a high amount of pain killers, is what I’m on.” You responded simply. Wow. Your sarcastic self still managed to pull through at a time like this. Lucky him.

Katsuki's frown deepened as he heard your response. He knew pain killers could only help so much…

“That doesn't really answer my question, dammit." He reached out and gently pushed the hair back from your forehead, looking down at your face intently.

"How bad is the pain? On a scale of 1 to 10?"

“20697.”

Katsuki's eyes widened in surprise at your exaggerated response.

"Wow, really? Fuckin’ 20697? That high, huh?” He paused for a moment, his mind trying to process the pain level you mentioned. 20697? That seems impossible… “You're just shitting me, aren't you?"

“Try getting kicked in the balls for sixteen minutes straight with a metal leg. Thats about half of what I’m feeling.” You said with a small eye roll.

Katsuki winced at the thought, his hand instinctively moving down to protect his own family jewels. Which of course, almost made you laugh.

"Jesus, that sounds painful as hell. Why do girls have to deal with this shit every month?" He looked at you with sympathetic pity, unsure if there was anything he could do to help. "Is there anything I can do to help? Get you some chocolate or something?"

You paused silently before looking up at him with innocent eyes, ever so subtly poking out your bottom lip. Not in a lay someone would know you were pouting, and yet it had the same effect.

“Cuddles have been scientifically proven to help with period cramps.” You said, looking up at him.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at your suggestion, his expression shifting from sympathy to a hint of amusement.

“Seriously? Cuddles? You're asking me to cuddle you to ease your period cramps?" He gave a small smirk, folding his arms across his chest. "And here I thought you were just being a drama queen, but you actually want me to cuddle you?"

“It works twice as well if your big spoon.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes at your insistence, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit amused by your request.

"Of course you want me to be big spoon. Typical…" He sighed heavily, acting as if it was a big inconvenience, before reluctantly crawling into bed next to you. "Fine, you big baby. I'll cuddle you."

You immediately smiled as he got under the covers, and wrapped your arms around him. His own muscular arms found their way to your waist as you scooted closer, nestling your face square in his chest.

You could smell his natural scent as you closed your eyes with a smile. Carmel and Burnt pine. Strange but extremely comforting. Wow. You felt better already.

Katsuki wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. He tried to maintain his usual tough and nonchalant demeanor, but couldn't help but soften a little as he held you in his arms.

“You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?" He grumbled, but his voice lacked any real venom. He gently ran his fingers through your hair, his touch uncharacteristically gentle.

“I can be a pain in your ass.” You said with the smallest of smirks, eyes remaining closed.

Katsuki let out a small scoff at hearing your suggestive remark, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip.

"You really have a talent for turning something romantic into something filthy, don’t you?" He tightened his arms around you, his hand moving down to rest on your lower back. “Love ya dumbass.”

“Love ya too boom boom bitch.”

“…what did you call me?”

[just-a-creep-babe]

What Makes You Tick - Chapter 2

(Ticci Toby x Reader)

On god idk WHY I struggled sm writing this, hopefully the next few chapters will come a bit easier ;~; Anywho lmk what you think like usual!!

Commissions are open!

Check out my ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

Masterlist: x

Prologue Chapter 1

Divider by @plum98

You’re lightheaded.

You think you might faint. The nausea twisting in your gut is threatening to empty the contents of your stomach. And there’s a pounding in your head like something’s trying to claw its way into your brain.

This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

As you’re processing—or, at least, trying to process everything—he jerks his shoulder again and cracks his neck. And it gives you an idea.

You knocked him out once—you could do it again. Maybe you could buy yourself more time to call for help, or wait for the cops to come, or at least secure him with something better than your flimsy shirt.

And so, with a deep breath to steel your nerves, you inch closer. Your fingers grip the edges of your phone so tightly you’re almost surprised it doesn’t break.

You hate approaching him. Just going near him has your pulse spiking and your hands getting sweaty. You try to control your breathing—in and out, in and out. He can't hurt you, you remind yourself. He's tied up and prone on the floor—you have the advantage.

It's what you repeat to yourself over and over again as he just sits there and watches you through his goggles. But even as you try to convince yourself you can do this, you can't help the uneasy feeling that he has more control than he's letting on.

You look down at him, and he looks up at you. His deep brown hair falls over the metallic rims of his goggles. Something about him looks soft and almost... disarmingly innocent.

You swallow thickly, your saliva going down like tar. You can't fall for it.

You or him, you think, if you don't do this now, who knows what he'd do to you if he had the chance?

Your muscles tense, ready to strike.

In all honesty, you should've expected him to fight back. Even despite his compromised position, of course he wouldn't just sit there and take it. But you're so overwhelmed and utterly out of your element that you don't even think to expect a retaliation—not until it's already too late.

Pain burns up your body as he kicks out your legs from beneath you. You stumble with a yelp. In one horribly fast motion, as you’re trying to regain your balance, he rushes up and grabs you from behind in a headlock.

The taste and texture of soft cotton have you choking back a scream. He's gagging you with the shirt you used to tie him up with. You try to jerk out of his hold, but any slight movement has him tightening his arm around your neck.

You can't breathe.

Panic seizes your body, freezing you into compliance against him. His voice is low and quiet against your ear, and even though he doesn't threaten you, you still feel that thrum of danger pounding in your ribcage as he speaks.

"Shh," he croons, the sound reverberating against your backside, "easy, angel, easy~"

His tone is deceptively gentle.

You struggle against him, but he's so much stronger than you could've expected. Your pathetic attempts don’t even deter him in the slightest from tying the gag in a knot behind your head.

When you hear ripping, you flinch, expecting a burst of pain—from what, exactly, you aren’t even sure—but it never comes. Instead, you realize he's tearing your shirt. And then your sight is cut off as he blindfolds you with the excess fabric.

Fight—you have to fight him off.

Everything inside your body is screaming at you to do something. You can't just let him do whatever he wants to you.

You try to yank yourself free, but he flexes his arms and cuts off your airway again. Something like a half-sob, half-choke escapes you as you gasp for air. The gag clings to your throat, and you have to bite down—hard—on the now-wet fabric to prevent it from suffocating you.

"Shh, it's ok, it's alright—sh-shh~"

The hard edges of his mask dig into your hair as he holds you firmly to his chest. You're so close you can smell him—something like smoke and blood and pine trees, and all you can think about is how you need to get away from him.

"You're going to follow me—nice—n-nice and quietly, alright, angel? And I won't—I won't hurt you if you don't give me—if you don't give me a reason to."

His threat has the hairs at your nape standing stiff.

When he starts dragging you away, you don't have much of a choice but to follow.

Blind and mute, you haphazardly stumble in the direction he guides you in. When it’s too cumbersome to walk with you trapped between his arms, he clicks his tongue and loosens the chokehold.

In the ever so brief millisecond he’s shifting his hold on you, you try to make a break for it. But you don’t even get the taste of freedom before he’s grabbing you again, and this time, he ends up pinning both of your wrists behind your back. His grip is painfully tight, like a warning for you to not try that again.

He jerks behind you, with what you assume to be his neck cracking, and then he’s pushing and pulling you this way and that to bring you god-knows-where.

Every time you try to yank yourself free, his grip tightens. His fingers dig so hard into your skin that you know his imprint will leave bruises. And even though he’s guiding you through your own house, it’s impossible to keep track of where he’s taking you. You’re too overwhelmed, your thoughts too frantic to properly focus on your remaining senses.

You hear him open a door, and then he’s tugging you outside. The humid summer air clings to your skin as you’re dragged against your will through your own neighborhood. The only indicator of your whereabouts is the ground beneath your feet, which shifts from hard pavement to soft grass as you’re led away from your apartment block.

You whine against the makeshift gag, trying to chew it off or push it away from your tongue. But it’s useless. Amid your panicked struggle, you scramble for some kind of plan, some kind of opportunity to get out of this, but you can’t think straight. It takes so much energy to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other without falling that you can’t think about anything else.

You don’t expect it when he suddenly jerks you to the side and forces you to an abrupt stop. It has you choking on another gasp in surprise, like insult to injury. When you catch your breath, you realize you don’t know how far he’s taken you. For all you know, you could’ve walked for miles as much as you could’ve walked just a few hundred steps.

You try to speak, try to beg through the gag, but all that comes out is a muffled whimper. You twist in his hold, and his grip tightens until it feels like he’s going to snap the very bones of your wrists.

“Don’t move,” he warns, his voice low over your ear.

You freeze. His warning has a shiver trickling down your spine. He’s so, so close to you. He’s pressing against your backside, and if you shift just the slightest bit, you can feel the hardness of his axes pressing against you.

You swallow back a whimper.

Sirens.

You hear them in the distance.

A surge of desperately hopeful energy jolts through you. They’re here—the police—looking for you. You’re so relieved you nearly cry. But before you can react, as if sensing your shift in temperament, his grip tightens even harder.

“If you try to escape, I’ll bury a—a blade in both your knees and drag you back if I—if I have to.”

His threat, low and quiet and filled with promising intent, has you going as rigid as before.

You hold your breath as you wait—calculating the odds of the police seeing you, calculating how far you could get if you made a break for it, calculating every single odd stacked against you if you dared an escape.

Louder and louder, the blaring sirens approach. There’s more than one car, you realize, more than one chance of getting noticed. But you also know that he's probably hiding out of their immediate line of sight, and if you just stand there like he wants you to, they’ll probably never see you.

Still, his threat hangs in the air. Your body warms with impatience, but you just can't bring yourself to move. With every second ticking by, your chance at freedom is slipping through the very cracks of your fingers. You try to stay calm, try not to panic, but whether you like it or not, you're racing against time.

You haven't seen his face, you think, if you somehow got the cops' attention, would he risk getting caught? Surely, it wouldn't be worth it. Surely, if it came down to it—if it came down to either you or him confronting the cops—he'd release you and run away.

But would he hurt you before escaping? How much damage could he do in a short amount of time? The idea has the taste of acid rising up your throat again. What does he have to gain out of this? What does he even want from you??

The blaring sirens grow too close, too loud for you to ignore. They must be right down the street. The man behind you is deathly still, which confirms your theory. You take in another deep breath. Now's your chance.

With as much strength as you can gather, you kick him and jerk your elbow into him at the same time. You don't know where your hit lands, but you feel the full force of the impact as you hit your mark. It's enough to hurt him—or, at the very least, stun him—and it has him loosening his grasp just enough for you to break free from him.

You run.

Stumbling blindly, you use all of your energy to focus on pushing forward and moving as far away from him as possible. Fingernails claw at the fabric over your eyes, but the knot is too tight to undo. You gasp with exertion, and another flash of panic rushes through you when you can't breathe in through the gag.

You tear at the fabric, nails nearly splintering from the effort, but the knot loosens and comes undone.

You’re about to gasp in relief when you're suddenly pushed to the ground. You yelp, turning onto your back, and though can't see him, you can feel your attacker above you. You don’t hesitate to kick in his direction, and even over the blaring sirens, you hear him cursing.

You pray the police see you, especially as he grabs one of your ankles and uses it as leverage against you. You’re about to twist your body and nail him with another kick from your free leg, but he catches that one too. And then the air is pushed from your lungs as the full weight of him pins you down, securing your legs so that you can't keep fighting him off.

You start using your hands instead.

He blocks your first hit, but on the second one, your fingers make contact with something hard—his mouthguard. With a burst of strength, you wrap your hands around it and rip it off of him—anything for some kind of distraction.

It works. With another curse, he releases your hand. You don't waste a second trying to tear your blindfold off again. But it's too tight—you don't have a chance, not while he's on top of you like this and your time is so, so very limited. The sirens are at their loudest; if you keep waiting, they'll drive away without noticing you.

You try to shove him off, but as soon as you make contact with the fabric of his hoody, both of his hands lock around your wrists in a death grip. You yelp at the flash of pain snipping your circulation, which is immediately overtaken by another pang of agony as he roughly snaps your arms above your head and traps you in place.

You realize, as you hear the police cars whipping down the street, that you only have one last chance at calling attention to yourself. And it suddenly clicks that your mouth is free, and both of his hands are busying themselves with yours, so he has no way of shutting you up.

Scream.

As soon as the idea comes to mind, you take in a breath. But in the brief millisecond it takes you to do so, it's like he realizes what you're planning to do. And just as you're about to scream like your life depends on it—because it probably does—something presses against your lips.

The pressure is soft and warm, with rough, chapped patches. The smell of blood and... something else, something unfamiliar fills your senses.

It, admittedly, takes you a moment to realize he's kissing you. He's kissing you to stop you from screaming. The realization stuns you.

You're too shocked to react. All you can do, it seems, is lie there and let him kiss you.

At the back of your mind, something begs for you to fight back. Push him, bite him, thrash beneath him—anything. A thousand different ways of freeing yourself come to mind, and yet, none surface.

Even as you hear the sirens rushing past, even as they begin to grow quieter and quieter in the growing distance, you just can't bring yourself to fight back.

His lips—your kidnapper's lips—never once part from yours. But despite the body heat, there's no warmth in the contact. It's just cold, calculated—heartless.

When silence falls over the streets, only then does he move. His mouth twitches into a relieved, self-satisfied smile against you. And that vile nausea twists at the pit of your stomach yet again.

You don't try to scream, even after he pulls away.

You hear him readjust what you could assume to be his mouthguard back over his face. And then your blindfold is ripped off.

The light is blinding. You have to blink the muddiness and confusion away. And then, as your sight returns, you find a pair of deep orange goggles staring down at you. Light from the sunset bathes him in a hazy glow like a halo of light, and from the perspective you have beneath him, he almost looks like an angel.

Your stomach lurches again, and you nearly puke.

Looking down at you, the man tilts his head, but doesn't say anything as he crams the makeshift blindfold into your mouth. It's tightened behind your head, tighter than he'd previously knotted it, and your pathetic attempts at stopping him are once again useless.

When he takes something out of his pocket, you can't help but flinch. His threat rings in your head, and you wonder if this is it, if this is the last thing you'll ever see; this masked stranger slitting your throat on a warm summer evening.

You'll die not even knowing why he wanted to kill you.

Relief, brief and fleeting as it may be, warms your chest when all he pulls out is a disposable flip phone.

He presses a button and, his sight never once leaving you, holds the device to his ear.

"...Yeah, I'm gonna need a pickup."

[spoofymcgee]

She feels Hermes arrive more than anything; the flutter of his wings against her skin. He's picked her bad side to appear on, and she's not sure whether it's forgetfulness–doubts it, as Hermes is shrewder than he likes to appear, but usually more considerate as well.

He doesn't say anything, though, content to be a presence sitting next to her and another pair of heels kicking off the side of the cliff.

Ithaca has become something of a hotspot for gods these days, and she doesn't know whether it's because of herself or Odysseus. Telemachus, perhaps, finding wayward deities off on his journey and sending them home for her to deal with. If it is, she might have to shake him next time he comes back.

*He'd have been better as your student," Athena says, finally, once they've watched Odysseus fleece two more sailors cocky enough to challenge the king, and sneak four coin pouches, six hats and nine knives off the spectators in the process. He'll give them all back at the end, but he seems like he's enjoying the challenge, and Penelope sits a polite distance away chatting with the captains' wives and occasionally glancing over to grin at him.

"Who?" Hermes says, like the answer isn't obvious. "Oh, Odysseus? Darling, where in the world did you get that conclusion from? Does Persephone have a new sort of flower she's growing, and if so, where can I get some?"

"Don't be an idiot," Athena tells him, but it doesn't come out half as annoyed as she'd meant. Damn, she really is going soft. "I mean it. Look, he's perfect for you, and you wouldn't have led him astray like I did."

"Do me a favor and don't try and foist your pupils off onto me," Hermes says, checking his nails in the sunlight. He's been down in the Levant again recently, she sees; they're colored a faint orange with darker, intricate designs twisting up his knuckles.

"I'm not," she says, feeling the feathers framing her face ruffle in indignation. "He's mine for as long as he'll have me. I'm only saying, if things were different..."

"But they're not," Hermes says flatly, looking up at her. "We live here and now, dear. Besides, if he was my student he would have been even sneakier, and no one would have taken that well. He wouldn't have made it past the age of twenty, and he wouldn't have been brave enough or good enough to protect his family."

"You can't know that," Athena protests, though her hand drifts absently to the edge of her scar.

"And neither can you," he points out, pulling one foot up to tuck under the opposite thigh. "So stop trying. Odysseus is home, Athena. By the looks of it, you are too. You're not doing anyone a favor by living in the past."

She looks down at her hands, twisting in her lap.

"You're a warrior," he says, voice softening. "You've never given up in your whole life. Don't let yourself lose this battle just because you're fighting your own brain."

The breeze is cool on her face, and she grits her teeth as matching tears slip off her chin and land on her chiton. "Alright."

"Good," Hermes says, and hits the cliff with his heel hard enough to send him twirling into the air, sandals fluttering. "Now, take me to where the olives are, I'm positively starving." He holds his hand out like a princess waiting to have it kissed, the other wrist pressed to his brow with his head thrown back, and she can't help but laugh. He's kind enough to ignore how wet it sounds.

"We can't have that, can we?" she says, and launches herself past him fast enough to send him spinning, and doesn't need to look back to tell he's chasing her–the playful outrage is loud enough even for her to hear.

[frenziedfireworks]

Late Nights

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary : You are super tired but your boyfriend has other ideas.

CW : SMUT, 18+ Characters, f!reader, somnophilia, degrading, breeding kink, needy & very horny seb

masterlist

Sebastian was insatiable. You didn’t know where he stored the energy even throughout such a cumbersome day. 

Both of you had spent the day doing chores and getting the house ready for Anne. She would be visiting soon and Merlin forbid she sees a speck of dust in the house. You had been deathly tired after and went to bed early.. or so you had planned. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes before you felt the bed dip and Sebastian sigh. You ignored his hands that trailed up your form and continued to rest.

“Y/N are you awake?” Sebastian’s breath fanned against your ear and you scrunched up. You knew what kind of mood he was in and could tell what was coming.

“No.” You responded and tried to keep in a laugh. 

“Oh what a shame.” Sebastian snorted and you felt his hand crawl under your gown. His fingers played against the flesh of your thighs and his lips nipped at your ear.

“Y/N..” He pleaded again and you sighed.

“If you want me that bad then take me. I’m worn out Sebastian.” You whispered and kicked your nightgown off. Something had awakened in your boyfriend from the comment as he gripped you harshly.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you while you sleep?” He rasped and you felt your core throb. So that’s what he was thinking of. You couldn’t deny that the thought of him using you to pleasure himself even while you were asleep was deeply arousing. 

“Yes. You can use me.” You whisper out and shut your eyes again as you relish in his touch. His hands automatically began tweaking at your chest with a rapid pace. His teeth bit circles into your neck which were sure to leave bruises by the morning. 

“Fuck.” Sebastian groaned as he rutted his erection against your ass. You could only let a small moan as you felt his hand travel down to your mound. His fingers worked fast circles around your nub, desperation clawing away at his mind. He was more akin to an animal than man, leaving not even a second to waste. His large digit pressed into your needy hole, your body shaking at the new pressure.

“Fuck that’s right. Look at you swallowing my finger. Greedy fucking girl even when you’re half asleep.” 

His pace was erratic and you felt him insert another finger. Your body contorted with pleasure as he hit the right spot. A low chuckle filled the silence as he continued.

“Gonna fucking cum on my fingers and then I’m gonna plug you with my cock. You’re gonna take it all like the whore you are.” 

His vulgar words only sent you higher, your hand gripping at the sheet below. Your core spasmed as you came, drenching your boyfriends hand in the process.

“Oh fuck. Look at the mess you’ve made. Can’t even help yourself huh?” Sebastian bit at your neck and you groaned a bit.

“Gonna fuck your poor little pussy now. Fill you up and let you wake up to a mess.” 

Sebastian’s cock rubbed through your folds, teasing you as he positioned himself. It didn’t take long at all for him to plunge into your sensitive hole. You clenched and moaned at the intrusion, adjusting to his size.

“Oh fuck. You always feel so fucking good! So tight for me. Built to take my cock.” 

He began to piston into you, his grip on your hips brutal. The room felt like a sauna and your body flopped with each thrust to your core. Lewd slapping noises and Sebastian’s grunts were the only thing you could hear as your mind fluttered in and out of consciousness. You could feel yourself getting closer and evidently Sebastian was too.

“I can feel you clenching me princess. Why don’t you cum on my cock so I can fill this pussy up like it deserves?” His hand trailed down to rub at your bundle of nerves and your body jolted. 

“Mmm…” you moaned out in a sleepy stupor and he just laughed.

“Yeah I bet you like it slut. Cum for me.” 

Your body did as it was told, hitting that euphoric high for the second time. It wasn’t even seconds later that you felt his pace go slack and his warmth fill you up. His hips jutted a few more times before he finally stopped, an arm pulling you flush against his chest. 

“Thanks darling. You’re the best.” He murmured as he kissed the nape of your neck. You ran your hand along his toned thigh that laid behind you and hummed.

“Night you beast.” You whispered and he snorted.

“Goodnight princess.”

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hello~ I really appreciate your writing of x-mens and honestly think you're doing great job! Can I request Remy, Logan and Kurt (or just Remy and Kurt if three is too much ^^) with an s/o who often depreciates themself, maybe on some joking way at first but there's a feeling of something more behind this all (like they're not joking, they really believe in it but try to hide this behind the smiles and laughs)? I'm sorry if this idea is hard to understand, if it is, I'll try to write IT more clearly ^^" Take care of yourself and everything nice to you!

Here are some headcanons for how Remy (Gambit), Logan (Wolverine), and Kurt (Nightcrawler) might react to an S/O who often depreciates themselves:

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Remy is incredibly perceptive, often catching onto your self-deprecating humor even before you realize it. He can sense the underlying sadness in your words, even when you're trying to laugh it off.

He'll immediately counter your jokes with his own brand of smooth, playful charm. "Chère, if you could see what I see when I look at you, you’d be smilin’ from ear to ear."

When it becomes clear that these jokes aren’t just jokes, Remy will take a more serious approach. He’ll sit you down, look you in the eyes, and tell you exactly how much you mean to him and how incredible you truly are. "I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t deserve the good things, but you gotta know you do. And I ain’t just sayin’ that."

Remy will go out of his way to show you how much he values you. Whether it’s surprising you with your favorite things or taking you on spontaneous adventures, he’s always finding ways to make you feel special.

He’s patient with you, never pushing too hard but always being there when you need reassurance. Remy understands that confidence takes time to build, and he’s more than willing to help you see your worth.

Logan (Wolverine)

Logan’s protective instincts kick in the moment he hears you making those self-deprecating remarks. He doesn’t like hearing you talk down about yourself, especially knowing the harsh world he’s seen.

He’s not one to sugarcoat things, so he’ll be upfront with you. "Darlin’, cut that crap. You’re worth more than you give yourself credit for, and anyone who says otherwise can answer to me."

Despite his gruff exterior, Logan has a soft spot for you. He’ll pull you close and remind you, in his own way, how much you mean to him. "I’ve seen a lot in my time, but someone like you? You’re one of a kind."

Logan might not be the best with words, but he’s always there for you. Whether it’s sitting quietly with you, holding you when you’re feeling low, or just being present, he makes sure you know he’s got your back.

Logan knows that building self-worth is a slow process, and he’s committed to being by your side through it all. He’ll celebrate your small victories and be there to pick you up when you stumble, always encouraging you to see yourself the way he sees you.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

Kurt is incredibly kind and understanding, always the first to pick up on your self-deprecating jokes. His sensitive nature allows him to see through the humor to the pain underneath.

Kurt is quick to gently counter your remarks with positive affirmations. "Liebchen, you are more wonderful than you give yourself credit for. Please, don’t doubt that."

He’ll offer you spiritual and emotional comfort, reminding you of the inherent value every person has. "God doesn’t make mistakes, and you, mein Schatz, are a beautiful creation."

Kurt expresses his love through acts of service, always looking for ways to make your life easier and to show you how much you’re appreciated. Whether it’s making your favorite meal or surprising you with small gestures of love, he’s always finding ways to lift you up.

When the time is right, Kurt will gently bring up your self-deprecating comments in a more serious conversation. He’ll listen to your feelings and offer his perspective, always with love and without judgment. "You are so much more than you think you are. Please, let me help you see that."

[akinorii]

matsukawa issei x reader

tw: virgin mattsun, h*rsecock mattsun, stuckage, dubcon, manipulation, public sex-ish, creampie, just the tip? :3 wc: 1k

when mattsun had asked you to grab his pen under the table, you didn’t expect yourself to get stuck. unfortunately, you underestimated the space between your seat and the table. and to press your luck, you forgot to wear spandex underneath your short skirt.

groaning in frustration and embarrassment, you ask your boyfriend for help. “issei.. i’m stuck,” you say shyly, attempting to push yourself out of the tight area. your arms and stomach start to ache when you realize your attempts are failing.

you hear footsteps shuffling and realize mattsun is getting up from his seat, his deep laugh echoes in the quiet room when he moves towards you.

“aww babe, at least you’re wearing cute underwear,” he teases. you huff in annoyance and wiggle your butt further, whining when he doesn’t do anything to help.”

“issei, help me. please,” you plead, kicking your feet around in desperation. “but babe, your ass looks really nice like this,” mattsun says in a groan.

then you feel something pressing against you, something that traps you further into the crevice. large warm hands rest on your ass, squeezing the meat, and you gasp at the realization.

“w-what are you doing!" you exclaim but it makes mattsun groan, his dick stirring in his pants at your distress, fully helpless in this position. his fingers toy at your panties and you feel his clothed cock press on the thin fabric, allowing you to feel how hard he is. 

“I-issei stop messing around and just help me!” you say nervously, unsure if he’s really doing this right now. you and mattsun had previously discussed your boundaries before and since your relationship is fairly new, you decided to wait a while before you finally do the deed. mattsun has shared that he’s gotten close but the girls he’s been with always back out beforehand because of his size. so you decided that your first time should be special or at least, not as spontaneous and public as this. 

but he’s enjoying himself with you like this, whining and moaning for his help. 

he says your name, “can i put it in? just the tip at least,” he groans, desperate to feel your cunt, his hands gripping at your ass almost painfully.

“but we’re in the library! w-we can get caught,” you argue, “a-and i thought you wanted our first time to be special,” you squeak. 

“come on babe, please. you just look so fucking cute like this. plus, you’re the one that wanted our first time to be special,” he fights you, unzipping his pants in the process, freeing his terribly aching cock from the constrained material of his boxers. you don’t want to disappoint him but you don’t want to do this here, not now.

you’re about to say his name but he cuts you off. “i already said please, didn't i?” he pushes and you finally give in, afraid to disappoint your boyfriend.

“o-okay, just the tip, right?” you manage to ask. “right baby, just the tip,” mattsun says in a low tone.

without hesitation, you feel him pull at your panties, the drool from your cunt sticking onto the now wet fabric. you feel the cool air to spread through your cunt and then he lets go, allowing a soft ache radiates through your cunt at the gesture. the pad of his thumb finds its way to your clit, playing with it before rubbing his cock up and down the soft material of your panties. 

“you feel how wet you are?” he coos, tugging your drenched panties to the side, the wetness sticking to your inner thighs.

but he doesn’t give you time to answer before he pushes the tip of his cock into your drooling cunt, making you yelp in surprise. it barely fits, he thinks. 

“baby, can i fuck you? let me just fuck you.” he asks desperately, fingers gripping at your hips, his cock hungry for your warm, slick cunt. your legs shake at the size, his cockhead splitting you open. 

just as you attempt to pull yourself up from your position, you feel his cock sliding into your cunt deeper. the girth makes you ache, the stretch of his length makes your pussy throb as he tries to burrow himself into you deeper. and he doesn’t stop, he pushes himself even further, your pussy taking him in so nicely. finally, he reaches in to a hilt, his cockhead brushing against your cervix.

“i-issei,” you cry out, squirming because you feel so full. “s-so big! y-you’re so big!” you babble, the fullness makes you writhe in pleasure, your dripping cunt pulsating at the fullness. 

“oh fuck baby, don’t do that,” he gripes and pulls out and in of you slowly, entranced by the way your cunt sucks his cock back in. his length is covered in your slick and the panties that are tugged to the side is drenched in your own pussy drool. he grunts at the sight, completely unable to hold himself back now. 

he doesn’t even regret that he was forced to wait this long because you feel so good. every thrust is addicting and you are so warm and tight, his cock fitting snuggly in your walls.

when mattsun’s thrust becomes sharper and quicker, almost desperate for a release - you just take it, his cock abusing your cervix over and over again. every thrust makes you convulse, a heat quickly building in your stomach. and it doesn’t take long for that heat in your belly to snap when he finds the angle that presses on the most sensitive part of your warm cunt.

his thrusts slowly become sloppier, hands frantically grabbing at your sides and fingers leaving marks on your skin. then, his thrusts come to a halt, your pulsating cunt milks his cock as he cums, his seed filling up your hole. 

issei slowly pulls out of you, careful to make a mess but an impossible task to achieve as his thick cum slowly spills out of you, dripping down your thighs. 

“whoops,” he jokes, using his sweater to clean you up. “okay, you’re all clean,” he announces proudly and you kick your feet at him.

“i’m still stuck here issei!

[rottingparts]

I saw the mirage imagine and It was so good like it got me barking. But anyways, can I have a smut request of mirage. Like, overstimulating or teasing mirage until he can't stop jerking his hips Or or or if your comfy you can you add like teasing on the neck too??! For example, umm, like reader putting there mouth on their wires and making them cry for more??!

If you're comfortable doing this. do it , please do it

OMG NOW YOU GOT ME BARKING!!! This is more teasing than anything, and it was supposed to be like a few paragraphs and ended up longer than that, and honestly I could have made it longer... Hope you enjoy, sweet nonnie! -Rot

Summary: You have a great idea, and Mirage is intrigued, even if you won't tell him what it is.

WARNINGS: 18+! MINORS DNI! Teasing, grinding, human!reader, Dom!Reader (kinda), Mirage is a switch, no specifications of reader's gender in any way

Word Count: 800

“I wanna try something.”

Your words were innocent and sweet, but it was definitely not a question. Mirage seemed to get a hint that whatever was on your mind was not innocent and was on board almost immediately. He did not ask what you had in mind, he only asked what you needed.

“Sit down.” You smiled at him.

“On the ground?”

“No, on the wall,” You snorted at your own answer. “Yes, on the ground, silly.”

“No need for sarcasm,” Mirage pouted. “But, since I love you so much, I will do what you say.”

‘Yeah,’ you smiled at Mirage, him having no clue what you were thinking, ‘I’m sure it’s ‘cause you love me and not because you’re horny.’ Once Mirage sat down, you walked over to him. You looked over at him and cocked your head.

“You got me kicking my feet and shit,” Mirage smiled at you, his feet moving back and forth as he sat down and looked at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“When is Noah coming back?” Your eyes met Mirage’s optics and he thought for a moment.

“One hour.”

You nodded, still not answering Mirage’s question. Mirage did not ask again though, he trusted whatever you were doing would be fun. You walked closer to Mirage and you could tell he was growing more excited. His feet moved a little faster, and once you took position, they froze.

You straddled the Autobot as best you could. Your eyes looked up at his wide, bright blue optics and you gave him a sweet smile. “I want you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Mirage seemed stunned, “You always want me to touch you-”

“This is about you right now, baby. Keep your hands at your sides, or at least to yourself, until I give the okay,” You waited for him to nod, “okay?”

Mirage nodded and you gave a quick nod of acknowledgement back. You rested your hands on Mirage’s shoulders and pushed yourself up ever so slightly. Mirage watched with anticipation as you positioned yourself over him. His optics never left you, and you did not want them to.

Without saying a word, you started to slowly grind against him. Your eyes moved from his chest plate and up to his optics, and he looked like his spark was going to stop. His fingers twitched against the ground. He wanted to do nothing more than touch you, but Mirage listened well enough when it came to you and pleasure.

“You’re practically giving me a lap dance,” Mirage groaned, “And I can’t touch you?”

“Trust the process,” You kept your eyes on him. “And, feel free to uh, help yourself relieve any pressure if you need to.” Your movements did not falter. And neither did, Mirage’s. He was quick to get his spike out. “But-” Your movements stopped, “Don’t touch yourself, either.”

Mirage looked like he was going to explode. “How am I supposed to-”

One of your hands left his shoulder and you leaned back, slightly. Your hand ran up his spike, so gently you were sure Mirage really would explode. Mirage whimpered and you grew hot. His whines filled the air as you would grind against him and touch him. You were being so gentle, too gentle.

Mirage’s hips jerked upwards and hit you as you were coming down. You smiled to yourself, happy with the hold you had on Mirage. Your hand brushed over his neck, not on purpose, but that was going to change. As soon as you touched the wires Mirage jerked again. An idea struck you and you smirked to yourself. Mirage could tell something other than him was coming.

You leaned up, your hand moving from his spike and back to his shoulder. You were still grinding, mostly to help yourself at this point, because you knew what you were about to do was going to be all Mirage needed. Your lips hit the wires. You could feel Mirage twitch, his entire body jerked. His hips bucked up again and you smiled against him.

Your lips grazed the wires, a soft kiss being placed against them before you pulled back. Mirage whimpered again, close to begging. You just knew it. Your breath hit the wires and Mirage was becoming uncontrollably horny. Worse than before. Your lips pressed to them again and a loud cry escaped from Mirage. You smiled against him and nuzzled his neck, his hips bucking into you several times before you spoke.

“Okay.” You stayed still, lips still on the wires.

“‘Okay’ what?” Mirage was frantic, voice almost cracking.

“Touch me.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Mirage had the roles flipped. You were on the ground and Mirage was over you. You could feel Spike against your thigh. He stared down at you, ex-venting heavily. “C’mon,” Your voice was soft, “We gotta do this before Noah shows back up.”

Mirage was ready to fucking go, “I don’t even care if he finds us at this point. I hope we’re still going at it when he gets back!”

You had wound Mirage up and you couldn’t be more excited with the results. You were going to need to do that more often.

[fishfooddude]

No Phone Policy 4.0

Originally, this was going to be the final part, but my word count got up to about 3k, and it was a lot to process. I also like odd prime numbers, so maybe one more part after this or two... maybe three, but that feels ambitious.

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Part 3

“Should we try to get him out of the house?” Syd whispered to Richie. He shook his head, “I don’t know what to do.” He felt defeated. Richie watched Mikey’s downward spiral. He tried to help him, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t watch the same thing happen to Carmy; he couldn’t lose Carmy, too.

“What the fuck should we do? I don’t know how he’s gonna react when she comes home with the baby.” Syd sighed as she anxiously chewed her lip. She’d seen how Carmy reacted to stress in the past, but she’d never seen him like this.

Carmy hadn’t slept since you’d kicked him out of the hospital room. He couldn’t remember what day of the week it was. He’d been meal-prepping all of your favorite dishes. He cleaned and sanitized every bottle, pacifier, and every part of your breast pump. He cleaned the entire house with a toothbrush and ensured the nursery was ready to go, and there was no dirty laundry. The house had never been this clean. He wasn’t eating and stunk of a cocktail of cooking oil, body odor, and bleach. Syd and Richie had been in your home for hours, but Carmy hadn’t acknowledged their existence. 

“Yo, Cousin.” Richie’s voice boomed through the empty kitchen. Carmy looked up at im from the floor; he’d been on his knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, muttering incoherent nonsense. “Take a fuckin’ shower, Carmen. You fuckin’ stink.” Richie leaned against the counter and watched Carmy throw his scrub pad on the floor by his feet before he stood up and stormed out of the kitchen. He shoved past Sydney before trudging upstairs.

“What the fuck was that?” Syd’s eyebrows knit together as she confronted Richie in the kitchen. He shrugged, “I told him the truth.” 

 ~

“Thanks for the ride, Natalie.” you grinned as she parked in the driveway. She nodded, “Come on, let’s get Wolf inside.” 

Natalie helped you out of the car and grabbed your bag while you unclipped Wolf’s car seat from its base. “Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N? You’re more than welcome to stay—” You cut Natalie off with a passive affirmation about you being fine. Something in you told you going home with Wolf was a mistake, but you couldn’t avoid Carmy forever, no matter how much you wanted to…

Syd’s eyes lit up when she saw a sleeping Wolf in her car seat. “Oh my god—she’s so beautiful!” she attempted to hush her excited squealing. You grinned, “Thanks, Syd. Listen, I want you guys to swoon over my baby all day, but ya know… the elephant in the room and all…” you half-heartedly joked, trying not to cry when the thought of Carmy was brought to the forefront of your mind. 

Reluctantly, Syd and Natalie left after a lot of convincing. Richie stood his ground as the women reluctantly left. “Richie, I’ll be okay.” you sighed as you unbuckled Wolf to pull her out of her car seat. He shook his head, “Look, Carmys scarin’ me. I just want to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” you nodded and held Wolf close to your chest as you slowly climbed the stairs, Richie hot on your trail.

~

Carmy was lying on the floor of the nursery. He closed his eyes and pushed a hand through his damp, messy curls. As footsteps approached the nursery, he perked up, turning his head to face the pale yellow door. “She’s eatin’ and shit, right?” he heard Richie’s voice echo through the hall. When Carmy heard your snicker, he rose to a sitting position. You came home. 

“I’ll ask Tiff if she has any of Eva’s baby stuff- that shits fuckin’ expensive.” Richie offered as the two of you found your way to the master bedroom so you could set Wolf down in her bassinet. “Thank you, Richie. Any idea where Carmen went?” you anxiously asked as you carefully laid Wolf down. “He fuckin’ stunk, so hopefully, the lizard showered.” Richie laughed before turning his attention from you down to Wolf. Even sleeping, he could tell she would be a carbon copy of you, “She has Carmy’s eyes.” you said when you noticed how Richie was staring at Wolf. He grinned, “You did it, kid… by yourself.” 

Before you could say anything else, you saw Carmy standing in the doorframe. You swallowed hard, suddenly nervous over the thought of actually talking to Carmy. The two of you looked at each other, and as much as you wanted to skin him for missing Wolf’s birth, he looked ill. As a tense silence fell over the room, Richie cleared his throat, catching both your and Carmy’s attention. “You know, I should probably head over to the restaurant. Let me know if you need anything, kid.” Richie said in your direction before turning his attention back to Wolf, “Bye, sweetie.” 

Carmy moved to allow Richie out of the room, “Don’t be stupid.” he whispered as he exited. Carmy rolled his eyes and stared at you, taking in your appearance. You looked tired, your hair was in a bun, and you wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of equally oversized sweatpants and sandals. He immediately noticed your engagement ring and wedding band were missing from your finger. “Are we okay?” he asked immediately, feeling stupid as the words left his mouth. You scoffed, “We’re absolutely not okay, Carmen. Bond with your daughter. I’m gonna take a shower.”

You pushed past Carmy and headed to the impeccably organized linen closet. Carmy watched as you plucked one of the larger black towels from the bottom shelf and one of your special hair towels before stomping to the guest bathroom.

Carmy stepped into the master bedroom and heard Wolf’s soft half-awake gurgles coming from the bassinet. He looked over it and saw her wrapped up in a tie-dye swaddle- most likely a gift from your Dad. “Hi baby, I’m your Daddy.” he carefully reached down and picked Wolf up. She squirmed as he cradled the baby in his arms before settling a chubby cheek against his chest. “I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for missin’ your birth, princess. I’m always gonna be there now. I promise.” 

~

“Don’t touch me.” you snapped as you felt Carmy shift closer to you in bed that evening. “Y/N, it’s been a month-”

“Yeah, and I’m still pissed.” you cut him off with a huff making Wolf stir in her bassinet. “Go to sleep. It took forever to get Wolf down, and I don’t want to fight in front of her.” you pulled your blanket up to your chin as you scooted closer to the edge of the bed to get away from Carmy. 

“Why the fuck did you name our daughter Wolf?” Carmy scoffed as he sat up in bed, frustrated. You ignored his criticism, which just made him more frustrated, “Will you fuckin’ talk to me?!”

You sighed and sat up in bed. You glared in Carmy’s direction, “Carmen. We’re not fighting in front of the baby.”

“Then fuckin’ talk to me!” Carmy got out of bed. He began pacing around the bed, anxious energy radiating from him like a nuclear explosion. You huffed as you scooped Wolf up. You’d known Carmy long enough to know he was about to explode. You got out of bed and pushed past Carmy to exit the bedroom, “Where the fuck are you goin’?” he yelled after you.

You ignored his yells as you entered the nursery to set Wolf down in her crib. After turning on the white noise machine on her bookcase, you exited the nursery to find Carmy standing in the doorway of the master bedroom. “If we’re going to talk, you need to talk. You yell at me; I’m ending the conversation,” you said matter-of-factly as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

Carmy scoffed and brought his hand to scratch his nose, “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I missed the birth, okay? I can’t go back and change it, and I’m fuckin’ pissed off that you’re actin’ like a fuckin’ bitch about it. Okay! Accept my fuckin’ apology so we can go back to fuckin’ normal.”

You stared at him and took in his words, “You know what, Carm. I absolutely will NEVER accept your fuckin’ apology. You’ll never understand how scary it was to give birth alone. You’re a fucking failure as a father and husband. If I had the means, I woulda left your ass.” you spat at him. 

Carmy’s face contorted in anger, “That’s the meanest shit you’ve ever fuckin’ said to me. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he watched as you crossed the hallway to go back into the bedroom. You pushed past him, making him turn on his heel. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you toward him, making you gasp, “Don’t fuckin’ ignore me. I’m fuckin’ sick of this shit.” 

You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip, only for him to tighten his grip. “Carmen. You’re hurting me.” you winced as you brought your other hand up to push against his chest. He grabbed your other wrist and pulled you closer to him. “You’re not fuckin’ leavin’ me, okay?” Carmy hissed as he stared down at you. “Carmen, you’re scaring me…” your voice cracked slightly. Carmy huffed and dropped your wrists, “Let’s go back to bed.” 

You watched Carmy walk to his side of the bed and slip under the covers. Cautiously, you went to your side and stiffly laid down. You flinched when you felt Carmy’s arms wrap around your waist. You swallowed softly and allowed him to pull you against his chest, “I love you. I’m not gonna miss anythin’ else, okay?” Carmy mumbled against your shoulder before softly kissing your exposed skin.

Part 5

[itiswormtimebaby]

Here’s what I’m thinking about:

Biker!Bucky (who also happens to be your brother’s best friend) comforting you when you accidentally get way too high and think you’re going to die. 

TW: Recreational drug use (weed), talks of death (reader feels like they’re dying), virgin reader, suggestive

The illicit baked goods were handed over with very clear instructions, only eat HALF. But you were so hungry, and the brownie was surprisingly good, and what would really be the harm in eating a whole instead of a half? Death. Inevitable death would be the harm. 

There’d been a very pleasant twenty-five minutes where it felt as if you were dancing on air, now you could barely get any- breathing shallow, chest tight, head heavy. This was it. Goodbye, cruel world. You knew there was little to be done so you decided to embrace the inevitable, if you acted quickly maybe you could go in your sleep. So you filled your cats food bowl, pressed a quick kiss to her head, and crawled into your hammock to await the end- but wait, wait you couldn’t go with regrets, that was a sure fire way to come back as a ghost and you did not want to haunt your crappy walk up forever. No, no regrets. 

So you called James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, your brother’s Bucky. Bucky who lived only a few blocks away, Bucky who could send you off without regret. He picked up on the third ring, and didn’t get much in edgewise after a hesitant “Hello?” 

“Bucky! Bucky I’m dying and I need you to come over right now. The doors unlocked.” You’d hung up before he could ask any questions, best to save your breath, you reasoned. For his part Bucky had politely but firmly asked the girl currently occupying his bed to leave, and made for the door, tugging on gray sweats as he went. While he was positive your dumb ass wasn’t dying he wasn’t willing to leave you in a distressed state. 

When he kicked off his bike and made it inside he’d found you curled up in your hammock, clinging to your cat, eyes squeezed shut; he’d grabbed your attention with a gruff “Bug?” You’d shot up, furry feline friend taking off with a displeased hiss at the sudden rocking motion; “Thank God, Bucky! Get over here, I don’t have much time.” He’d crouched down next to your hammock, bringing his cool metal hand to your cheek, brushing away some stray hairs and taking note of your blown out pupils; “What the fuck are you on?”

“It- it was supposed to only be half the brownie, but I ate it all, I’m such an idiot and now-” He bit back a laugh realizing you were just stoned off your ass, not wanting to add insult to injury as your eyes welled with tears “-now I’m dying but I can’t go yet, Buck, I can’t, because if I die full of regrets I’ll have to haunt this stupid place forever.” 

“For Christ’ sake, Bug, you’re not dying, you’re just stoned.” 

With an adamant shake of your head you reached down and grabbed his flesh hand, pressing the palm of it flat to your chest as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over with a warbling hiccup; “I- I’m not, I am but I’m not- I know what death feels like.”

His mouth popped open in mock surprise; “Oh, you do? Because you’ve experienced it so many times?” 

Your bottom lip quivered as you glowered pathetically at him, “D-don’t be mean to me. Not right now.” Torn between pushing the issue and humoring you he chose to go with the latter. 

“Okay then, Bug, no regrets. How can I help?” 

With a small watery smile you turned in the hammock to fully face his kneeling form; “We’ve got to have sex-”

“Jesus fuck!” Your sincere expression, tear stained cheeks, and glassy eyes awakened something dark within him, pleasure spiking within his groin and pulling him to half mass even as he adamantly shook his head no. Seeing his refusal you began teetering on the brink of tears again; “Please Bucky, please, you have to fuck me, it has to be you. I don’t want to die a virgin and I love y-” 

Quicker than your sluggish brain could process the cool fingers of his left hand wrapped around your mouth, silencing you as his other hand smoothed across the top of your head and down to cup your cheek, thumb stroking it in small even passes. He took three steadying breaths, eyes clenched shut, before he met your gaze; “Shut up. We are not having this conversation right now.” You whined behind the gag of his hand, but he just shook his head firmly in return, so much for humoring you. “Bug, you are high as a fucking kite. So here’s what’s going to happen; I’m going to go get you a drink, and then you’re going to sleep. End of.”

He stood abruptly, moving towards the door of the bedroom as you pleaded with him to come back and take you, promising he could do whatever he wanted as long as he was inside you. You didn’t stop rambling until he stormed back in with a glass of water, towering over your prone form. “Listen to me,” he hissed “when I finally fuck you the only thing you’ll be high on is my cock, so do me a favor and shut the fuck up about it so I can take care of you until then.” 

AN: In hindsight I’ve taken some liberties with the use of the word “comforting.” 

[buckyownsmylife]

a higher place - august walker smut

The one where a misunderstanding leads you into where you belong: August's arms.

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: jealousy, misunderstandings, crude language, possessiveness, kind of knife play, dub!con if you squint (since reader is so willing), kind of public play? (they’re in a bar, but there’s no one else around), daddy kink, spanking, orgasm control, unprotected sex (don’t do it!), creampie.

A/N: a special thanks to my dearly beloved @sparkledfirecracker who read this over ages ago and helped me make this a better read! Your comments were right on the spot and your reactions are always so motivating!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Whose shirt are you wearing?” The question took me by surprise, especially since I didn’t expect it to come from that rough, sexy voice I’d come to know so well. I didn’t even process it, not expecting to hear anything in the empty bar since the last call had been almost an hour ago. I’d been alone to close the place since Peter helped me kick out the last drunk guys causing mayhem.

“August?” I asked, letting go of the glasses I had been wiping and turning around to find the familiar man that was a regular long before I’d even started working in it. “It’s been so long, how have you been?”

His eyebrows furrowed, confusion evident even if it didn’t make sense to me. I used the rag over my shoulder to wipe my hands as I got out from behind the bar to approach him.

“August?” I repeated, now my own eyebrows furrowed as I stared up at the man towering over me, his chest heaving as if he was struggling with some intense emotion that I caused him. His eyes were fixated on my breasts. I would have believed that to be the case had I been wearing anything with a neckline, but since it was nothing more than a regular loose t-shirt, his obsession didn’t seem to make any sense.

“Are you fucking anyone?” The question caught me off guard: it didn’t help me understand what was going on or where it had come from. Even though August and I had become friendly over the time since I started working here, it was way more of a shared sense of comfort brought by him defending me from sleazy customers than any actual attempts on his part to become close to me in any way.

I’d even started to talk myself down from the stupid, silly crush I’d been harboring for him. He was a man, an attractive, intimidating man, who could have anyone he wanted. What would he ever see in a simple bartender who had only ever been with one guy her entire life?

“No, I’m not,” I decided to clear out, once and for all, even though I didn’t understand why he wanted to know and wasn’t particularly fond of the tone he used to ask me about that. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business, though.” 

I turned my back to him, decided to return to my position behind the bar, hoping the barrier of the battered wood between us would help realize his questions sounded invasive and didn’t make sense to me, but before I could do that, a calloused, strong hand gripped my elbow, stopping me before I could get too far.

August’s much larger body was pressed tightly against my back, stopping me from turning around and checking on him again, and my heartbeat was thundering inside my chest, the adrenaline suddenly getting to me. What the hell was going on?

Even despite his unusual behavior, I didn’t fear him. It wasn’t terror that filled my veins, rudely awakening my senses, begging my body to stand in alert. It was anxiety, sure, but mostly anticipation. 

Something inside of me knew this was different, and was hoping for a good kind of different. The type that would end up recreating one of the many dirty dreams I’d had about the man behind me ever since we had met.

“But I want it to be my business,” he spoke low against the shell of my ear. I could feel every hard muscle of his being pressed against me, especially once his hands wrapped around my body, squeezing me against him.

“So I’ll ask you one more time.” I whimpered when his hand grabbed my jaw, turning my face to the side so he could better speak against my ear. “Whose shirt are you wearing?”

Trembling, I at last confessed, “It’s Chris’” immediately latching on to an explanation. “I spilled beer all over mine earlier, and he had this in his locker, so he lent it to me.”

August’s sharp inhale resonated across the empty bar, adding to the cocktail of emotions that had me drenching my panties when I  felt the edge of a knife being slowly pressed against my thigh, his smile against my shoulder.

“I knew you wouldn’t just fall in someone else’s arms.” I whimpered when a flick of his wrist reduced the shirt I was wearing into nothing but scraps of fabric, laid out on the floor. “I knew you felt it too, this connection between us.”

He turned me around in his arms, both hands cradling my face even with the knife still in his hands. I should probably run, but I already knew it was too late for me.

I’d succumbed to his desires.

“I’m gonna make you mine now, darling.” My knees faltered at the pet name, and he had to support my body as the hand holding the knife traveled downward until it reached my jeans. He made quick work of it too. I heard the knife drop to the floor before his fingers were opening me up, getting me ready for the monster of a cock I could feel straining against its confines as he rutted against me.

“I need you to cum for me quick,” he ordered, provoking a whimper as I grew weaker and weaker for the man who now took me for himself. “Can’t hold back from you anymore, doll. Kept trying to admire from a distance, but seeing you tonight in another man’s clothes… made me realize I could never live with myself if I didn’t make sure you’d never belong to another man, ever again.” 

I didn’t want anyone else, just him. And I made sure to let him know, “I only want you, August.” The pointy edge of the knife suddenly pressing against my hip, I gasped, my arms wrapped around the back of his neck.

“Daddy,” he corrected, making me even wetter for him, the sounds of my juices as he finger fucked me making my head swirl. This was my place of work, and here I was, being violated in it in the best of ways.

“Daddy”, I repeated, moaning in delight at his idea of a reward, when he dropped the knife on the floor and took my breasts in his other hand, quickening the pace of his fingers inside of me as he buried his face against the crook of my neck, his mustache tickling me.

“Cum, now.” It was an order, and I would be crazy not to follow it, especially with how hard he was making it for me not to do exactly as he said. My legs faltered underneath me, but he didn’t let me fall, holding me to his strong body until he could drop me over the bar, keeping my legs dangling in front of him.

“Good girl…” The compliment paired with the sounds of his belt unbuckling hard me trembling in anticipation. The feeling of August’s cock spearing me open was enough to have me believing I’d cum yet again, this time practically untouched.

That was, until his hand settled over my ass, spanking me loudly as the other pulled on my hair, making sure he got my attention. “Don’t… fucking… cum.”

Every word was punctuated by a harsh thrust, right against my sweet spot. He didn’t give me any time to get used to his considerable size, made even more considerable by the gentle pressure of the wood against my stomach, making me feel each drag of his cock against my inner walls.

“You will wait for me, kitten. I’ve already let you cum once, so I could fit my cock in this tight wet hole, but now, you must ask me for permission if you want to cum.” August panted over me, his pace never faltering as I heard him climb that mountain of desire, eager to meet me at the top. “I control your pleasure now. Got it?”

My response was a screeched “Yes, daddy!” followed by a succession of “Please, let me cum! Please, please, let me cum.” August grunted a few more times, his cock fucking me in a brutal pace, before he finally allowed me to cum.

“Alright, doll. Cum with me, cum with me, c’mon.” The feeling of his warm spurts of cum filling me up brought me to my own release. Much to my surprise, August didn’t stay inside of me for long, opting to pull out and watch the mess of us both run down between my thighs, the look in his eyes making it seem like he thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Looking like a perfect mess, kitten,” he commented, smirking because he was the cause of it. “Let me get you home and clean you up. And then mess you all up again.”

Gathering me in his hands, he cradled my face between his palms so he could whisper, “I’m gonna make you so happy.” And I didn’t doubt that for a second.

[cursedhaglette]

Birdsong

“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”

“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”

“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”

----

The first time you let Astarion bite your neck, and you're surprised to find just how badly it makes you want him.

Rating: E Word Count: 2,600 Content: 18+, smut, afab reader, cunnilingus, oral sex, PiV, creampie, breeding kink if you look really hard, vampire bites,

[ao3 link]

You open your eyes, sensing something off even in your deep, dreamless sleep, and are greeted by teeth - a mouth open wide and ready to devour. 

“Shit,” is all he can say as he sits back on his heels, fidgeting nervously as you sit up and pull away - some latent instinct that you need to distance yourself for safety kicking in even though you know Astarion and what he needs. 

“I’m sorry, I - I only need a little blood,” he says, moving away from you and extending his hands in front of him. A gesture of peace, of safety. You don’t stand, but move to a kneeling position before him, well aware that your expression is likely one of fear and confusion. 

You’d agreed after his first feeding that you’d help when you could, signaling him after a long day if you were available for him that evening. His feedings are easy now, the process so quick and painless, you rarely wake up when his teeth meet your wrist in the dead of night. 

“I suppose I can help you with that,” you whisper, your voice still thick from sleep. “Um…how would you like me?”

“All over camp, love,” he smirks, and his smile only grows when he spies the quick blush that heats your cheeks at the words. 

“Ha ha,” is all you manage to say, and you roll your eyes playfully.

“Since you’re awake, I’ve been hoping to try at your neck one of these lovely nights together” his eyebrows knotting together as he moves to kneel next to you. “If that’s alright with you, my sweet, little bird.”

He’d been feeding from your wrist for the last tenday, working hard to master his control when feeding, especially since your blood is the best he gets compared to all the animals and goblins the wilderness provides. You’d limited him to that, trusting he’d keep his word if he fed from you while you slept, but he’d behaved himself - proven he could control his hunger. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you, darling, but I am happy to take from your wrist again. I simply wanted to avoid the risk of scarring from repeated feedings. We need to keep you pretty, don’t we?”

“Hmm,” you consider, pinching your lips together and trying not to look too bashful. The thought of his lips on your neck… “I suppose my neck is fine.”

You tried not to cringe as your voice came out in a soft squeak, laying back quickly to hide your embarrassment. 

“Are you quite sure you’re comfortable with this?”

“You promise not to kill me?” Again, you try to joke, but your voice falters and only sounds tired instead.

“Feel free to push me off if you start to feel faint, you know the drill, pet,” he says softly, positioning himself over you. He smells of familiar herbs, rosemary and bergamot, and something dark but sweet as well. The feeling of his body hovering above yours, while he scoops his hand under your head so tenderly, starts an ache in your core that is wholly new. You want him to rest fully against you, to run his hands through your hair, and the thoughts make you close your eyes in hesitation. 

Before you can second guess yourself and this choice, he bites down, and icy pain draws a gasp from your lips as you try to adjust to the sensation. It’s more unpleasant than your wrist, to be sure, but under this pain is a different sensation - brought on by the feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck, suckling at your lifeblood with combined tenderness and desperation. 

You don’t expect it to light a fire in your belly, your breath hitching as his body draws closer over yours. It’s only been a second, but it feels like your whole body rewrites what you know as normal as he drinks from you. 

A quiet moan escapes your lips at the feeling of him sinking onto you, a distinct hardness pressing into the gap between your thighs as he writhes against you. You’re more than familiar with how the sudden rush of energy and blood usually arouses all parts of him, but feeling it against you, against your heat, is entirely new. He whimpers in turn, his hips rolling into yours, and then you can hear his voice echoing through your mind. 

“Are you still alright, sweet bird?” He asks through your shared tadpole connection, and all you can do was whimper in delight at the pet name and the purr of his voice caressing your thoughts. 

The world feels fuzzy and warm as he drinks, like you indulged in too much wine before bed, and after what feels like not enough time at all, he pulls himself off. Or rather, he pulls away from your neck, but his body remains against yours, hard and panting. 

You meet his ruby eyes, both of your expressions hazy and wild. He rubs the mess of red away with the back of one hand, keeping himself above you while resting on the forearm of the other. Some part of you is sad to see the red go, to see that sight of you on him swept away. 

“Darling? Are you alright?” His question is little more than a whisper against your lips, he hovers so close. You could feel his cold hands softly twist in your hair, as if to bring your focus back to him, back to your body, as you reorient from the bloodloss.

“I’m fine,” but your eyes don’t leave his, even as they grow hazy with sleep and bloodloss, your body suddenly desperate for rest. But without thinking, you reach up - tangling your hands in his mess of silver hair - and tug him down into a kiss. 

It’s slow at first, surprise causing him to tense for just a moment, and then he opens for you. His mouth crashing upon yours, the hardness between his legs digging into you as you fumble for more of each other, tongues dancing. The sluggish hum in your bones that’s familiar after his feedings seems to heighten the sensations of pleasure that course through you, your hands quickly moving to his sides, his back, his neck.

Before you might beg for more, he pauses and pulls away, scanning your eyes as he does.

Astarion sits up, and your body goes cold as he does - despite the fire just outside and the blankets that you were tangled in. “I’m sorry - I didn’t expect, well, to enjoy that quite so thoroughly.” He gestured with one hand to his body as he moved to stand, and your eyes fell to the obvious erection in his pants. “You were absolutely delicious.”

There are no words for what you see, the want that you feel crest within you like a tidal wave at the sight of him - of how he wants you. And you’d never seen someone so hard before…Gods…you’re speechless at the sight. 

You pinch your lips into a fine line but can’t stop the smile that you know comes upon your face as you look back up to his, meeting his eyes as he winks. Your face is hot, your body feels hot - you feel unhinged by the overwhelming desire that aches for him.

“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”

“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”

“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”

“Oh you wicked little thing,” Astarion grins, “I noticed how you pant and writhe when I’m lost in your blood. But I had no idea how desperately you desired me.”

“Well, then stay. Stay and fuck me, Astarion.”

“I do love a woman who knows what she wants,” and with a swift, fluid motion, he tugs his shirt over his shoulders and his perfect chest is bared for you. You smile and lean back, tugging him against you as you do - propriety be damned. 

His mouth meets yours again in another chaotic, crashing kiss that tears a moan from you as his fingers go to the buttons of your sleepshirt. It falls from your shoulders and goosebumps dance up your arms at the contact of his cold skin on yours and the way your arousal grows more insistent with every swipe of his tongue against yours. 

He pulls back, scanning your face for just a moment, and you can’t help the mewling “Please” that escapes your lips, desperation evident in every word. You need more of him, and after waiting for weeks, you’re ready for him to give you everything. 

Astarion gives a wicked grin at the sound of your begging, but his mouth only moves low enough to take a single nipple in his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the hardened peak, before latching around it and sucking deeply. 

He shimmies your panties down with his next movement and holds up your hips, sliding his tongue up the length of your sex while one arm keeps your legs above him. You can’t help but groan at the delicious feeling of his mouth finally meeting your waiting, swollen bud, and quickly have to rest your legs on his shoulders to keep from bucking wildly at the intensity of the pleasure he offers you. 

And Gods, but he devours you, lewd noises filling your small excuse for a tent as his tongue laps at your soaking cunt. The pleasure behind your eyes burns white hot as he slips his tongue inside you, his nose against your clit moving in time with each shallow thrust. He groans with each pulsing clench of your body around him and your hands tangle in the blanket below you as you grasp for anything that might ground you in this moment.

Before you get too close to your peak, he briefly sets your hips down and moves to slip his cock out of his pants. He palms his length with one hand, hissing as he tightly pumps himself, and then slips the other back inside you. Astarion moves low, adjusting his body in a single smooth movement and then he’s before you once more, licking up until he pulls your pulsing, waiting clit into his mouth and sucking. Massaging your inner walls while he holds your pleasure between his lips and rolls his tongue until you’re bucking against his mouth. 

You go over the edge, dissolving into waves of pleasure with his name crashing from your lips in a keening moan and feel the way his mouth turns up into a smile as you clench around his fingers, but his mouth stays in place until your body stills around him. 

“You taste so sweet when you cum,” He moves up to kiss you and you sigh against his lips.

“Hells,” you breathe when he pulls away, trying to catch your breath as the hum of release dances through your body, but Astarion has no interest in letting you rest. 

“Now, let’s go for one more,” he starts, lining his cock up with your entrance and then sliding it against your slit, wetting his length with your arousal. He presses into you a moment later and you gasp at the sensation, at the way he stretches you to fit all of him, and his next words are enough to nearly shatter you again. 

“This time, I want you to come around my cock, my sweet, little bird.”

He doesn’t wait another moment before withdrawing then burying himself to the hilt, his moan echoing your gasp at how full you feel once he’s inside you. His rhythm is so desperate and  slow and deep that you’re quickly lost in every punishing hit of his body meeting yours. 

You can’t muffle your pleading moans as you beg for more of him, for the pleasure he offers and he shifts, putting one leg on his shoulder once more so he can take you even deeper. He’s bent over you and staring into your eyes as he ruts, smiling and purring as he watches you come closer and closer to breaking. 

“Yes, that’s…so good,” he groans, “...doing so good for me little bird.”

His nickname for you, in this context, feels like lightning dancing through your skin and igniting in that aching place where your bodies meet. He kisses you deeply, moans exchanged in the space where your tongues dance, and then he pulls away quickly, his voice gruff as he demands, “Turn over, sweet thing.”

You do as you're told, flipping onto your stomach, and before you might shift to be on hands and knees, you feel his strong hands kneading the muscle of your ass, his cock lining up with your entrance once more. Astarion angles your hips up for him and slides back inside with a delicious, deep groan

“Wanna feel you - uhnnn, Gods, bird - come around my cock,” he moans, his rhythm growing erratic as you both approach the peak for your pleasure together. “Be a good girl for me, be - please - fuck, you feel so good -”

With deep push inside you, his cock finds a spot that has your eyes rolling back and your body soaking him in your arousal, his praise continuing until you do as he asks again. He brings you closer and closer to the edge with every perfect stroke, his hips meeting your ass and balls hitting your clit with every punishing thrust.

Your climax crashes through you this time, pulsing and clenching and begging for more and more of him. You see white and stars as you pant and cry through 

“Fill me,” you beg, finding your voice as the aftershocks of your orgasm leave your cunt fluttering around him. He fucks into you with absolute abandon now, desperate for his own release. “Please Astarion, come for me. I want to feel you fill me, please, please -”

“Gods above - fuck - oh, oh, fuck - ” he groans and slows as he spends himself within you, continuing to roll his hips into you with every pulse of his cock emptying within you. 

When he stills with you, neither of you move for a moment as you catch your breath. The scent of sex fills the air and you’re sure you should be bothered by how loud you were, how your companions have undoubtedly heard you both, but you don’t care. 

His cold chest presses into your back and you’re surprised when he dots cold kisses across your shoulder blade and then turns your cheek toward him, pressing a kiss there as well with a soft hum. 

“You have a lovely singing voice, my pretty bird,” he croons into the curve of your neck, continuing to pepper your neck, back and shoulders with kisses. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’d like an encore.”

When he moves off your back again, raising your hips til you feel his tongue licking at the spend he’s left within you, you cry a moan of delicious agony, and start to sing for him again. 

[mechanicalpiper]

Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!

"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"

Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff

Yours truly!

Cooper

You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?

By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3

Snippet #8

The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.

Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.

Hero was certainly having one of those days.

They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.

They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.

Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.

Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."

"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.

"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.

"You wish."

"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."

"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.

"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.

"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"

Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.

A... grab?

Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.

It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.

Villain's touch was soft.

Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.

Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.

They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.

Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.

Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.

"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.

Hero was already ignoring the pain.

Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.

Sweetie??

A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...

...'Sweetheart'...

Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?

"Hm. Losing focus agai-"

Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...

Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.

"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.

"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"

Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.

At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.

An entirely different focus was on their mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling, or the lack of one?

It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.

Hero didn't know nor care.

All they knew is what it felt like right now.

It's a fear.

A fear of this. This emotion.

The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.

The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.

Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.

All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.

Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.

Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.

They did it for Hero.

They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.

They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.

Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.

"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."

Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.

Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.

Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.

Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.

They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.

Villain just continued holding Hero tight.

Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.

But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.

Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.

"...How're you feeling?"

Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.

"...n-needed this."

For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling?

They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.

That feeling was love.