#like the ??? nsft one and the ??? possession one

[shalomniscient]

listening to hold on tight by aespa and wow this is so kafka coded…. i’m having VISIONS like imagine being kafka’s stellaron hunter partner. before silver wolf, before sam and before blade it was just you and her, flitting from galaxy to galaxy to carry out elio’s enigmatic will. and you, frankly, can’t fucking stand her.

cocky, smug, arrogant, and worst of all—she had the damned skills to back all of it up. it also absolutely did not help that she was also one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid your eyes on. you really would kill elio for pairing both of you up, were it not for the fact that the schemer of a man had something you need. and, it seems, something that kafka needs too. not that you particularly care, of course.

nsft utc—

just like how you totally don’t care as kafka cozies up to your target of the day, the strobe lights of the club casting tempting shadows across her elegant face, those cherry-red lips upturned in a coy, dangerous smile. you watch from across the bar over the rim of your glass—the strongest shit this fucking bar had to offer—and when she flashes you a look from beneath long, fluttering lashes you nearly crack the damn glass in your grip. kafka’s eyes glitter like rubies in the low light, and you grit your teeth so hard you distantly fear they may crack.

seconds, minutes or hours later she finally stands, leading the target away from the bar by the hand. her web has been spun—all that was left for to tangle this foolish, stupid, unwitting fly in her threads. you follow from a distance, hands shoved in your pockets, curling around knives you’re just itching to use at this point. in the background, you faintly register a new song being played; almost folklike in its melody were it not for the electro groove overlaid above it and the dark, fantastic vocals.

baby you and me are a twisted fantasy—

you find kafka and the target in a private room in the back. she’s sat across from him now, grinning from ear to ear. the hunt was over; now, it was time for the kill. he barely gets the chance to squeal before your knife teases the exposed flesh of his throat, and kafka laughs. at your impatience or the man’s crippling, immobilising fear of her, you don’t know. that relaxed, insufferable smirk remains on her lips even as you drag your knife through muscle and sinew and spill the target’s blood all over the lush cushions. it’s red, just like her lips. over the speakers, the music continues.

bodies running on a dream, up all night—

“you’re tense, partner,” she drawls, crossing her legs as she watches you wipe your knife clean. “the job was successful. relax.”

you grind your teeth together as you sheathe your knives back into their holsters. “you wasted my time with that pointless… game of yours.“

“it’s called having fun,” she hums in response, rising from her seat, and taking slow steps towards you, “you should try it.”

“we are not here to have fun,” you growl. “the script is clear—“

kafka cuts you off with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. “bo-ring.” distantly, you hear the music swell.

wired differently, a chaotic energy—

oh, you’ve had enough.

quick as a flash, you pin kafka to the wall, your arm against her throat while the other hand wraps tight around her wrists. her eyes widen by a mere fraction, before her cherry lips part wide in a grin that’s more a flash of teeth than anything else.

“one more fucking word out of you and i swear—“

“you’ll what?” kafka challenges. “punish me?”

“shut. up.”

she sneers. “make me.”

and you do, by crashing your lips against hers in a fervent, chaotic kiss. kafka twitches beneath you ever so slightly, but then she’s returning your fervor, her teeth worrying your lower lip. you growl and probe your tongue against the seam of her lips, forcing your way into her mouth and tasting the residuals of whatever drink she had with that man, his blood now trickling down onto the floor.

kafka groans as you slot your leg between hers, her muscled thighs immediately bearing down on your leg. you move the arm against her throat lower, your hand squeezing at the ample flesh of her breast through her shirt, and the pleased hum that reverberates out of her theoat sounds far, far better to you than her smug chirping. when you pull away, your shoulders tremble from the heavy breaths you draw in.

kafka, meanwhile, retains that damned smirk on her face, her eyes half-lidded and knowing. as if she planned all this right from the start.

“perhaps we should take this somewhere more private, hm?” she suggests, trailing a hand down your front as she rolls her hips against your leg. you stifle the full-body shudder that threatens to course through you, and step away from her.

“fine.”

the grip you have on her wrist is tight, but kafka doesn’t pull away. she only giggles airily, and you know without looking that her expression is definitely one of a cat that got the cream. as you leave the club, the song finally concludes.

buckle up and take a seat, hold on tight…

[imagine-your-nonhuman-fo]

Sheep hybrid s/i who's just so scared of everything - demon possessed f/o thinks he saw s/i get genuinely scared by his reflection one time

S/i who's just always trembling when in public, twitching at every noise and always looking over his shoulder moments away from panic

He doesn't have a flock so going out feels so dangerous, so whenever he sees f/o he's running up to him, hand holding onto the back of f/o's blazer as they walk because he doesn't want to get separated

F/o often wonders what he can do to ease that anxiety beyond just being close when they see each other, but it's not feasible for him to always be around, as much as it pains him he has other things that must be done

The demon is surprisingly insightful; find a flock for s/i, sheep hybrids often live in large communities making s/i an odd outlier as is

But that's the extend of the demon's helpfulness, because his suggestion for getting a flock for s/i is to breed him over and over so there's a bunch of little lambs running about

The demon just sits back and watches the gears turn in f/o's head, grinning at how f/o is already thinking about how cute s/i would be waddling around with a big round belly still clutching onto the back of his blazer as they go out

[necrotic-nephilim]

WOAH Bruce not only feeding that assumption in steph but planting the seed of it by saying something about Jason while he’s behind her and they’re looking at the memorial case together. Like this being after a build up of like you said him being harsh with her training “you didn’t match those fingerprints fast enough they could’ve matched 50 in 40 seconds you took almost twice that” but being kind while he’s physically touching her. Bruce standing behind steph, not to the side but directly behind, with his hand on her shoulder and the hand drops down to squeeze her arms and steph looks down at it and turns around and kisses him. I think if steph sent a post coitus pic to Bruce he wouldn’t even get mad he’d just get horny thinking about them together. Thank you for the photo steph can I get one in your robin costumes next time

(based on this post and this post) oh my god. your vision anon. i was going to just build off of this with headcanons but the scene you described i cannot get out of my head so uh have a fic that's 6k and far longer than it should've been with vanilla sex that somehow is very dead dove anyway, also crossposted on ao3. ily i would guard you with my life- <3

When Stephanie thought about Bruce, she remembered skin that tasted like salt and brimstone. She remembered warm hands that held her more gently than she'd probably ever be held again. She remembered a cold voice that was more cruel to her than anyone had ever been.

Which, given who her father was, Stephanie personally found that to be a pretty fucking impressive feat.

She remembered a lot of things about Bruce. So many memories sat on her tongue and threatened to spill out whenever she opened her mouth.

Memories like Bruce's hand on her shoulder, giving her another lesson she never got to use before dying.

"You didn't match those fingerprints fast enough," Bruce said. He was unforgiving, and Stephanie didn't have to be looking at him to know his features were painted in disappointment. She scowled and focused harder on the slides in front of her, ignoring him. When she didn't answer, he twisted the knife deeper. "Tim could've matched almost fifty in forty seconds. You took twice that."

It was always Tim being dangled like a carrot in front of Stephanie's face. So many times had Stephanie wanted to twist around and snap at Bruce that he wasn't the only one who lost someone when Tim had to quit being Robin. Bruce wasn't the only one with a gaping hole in his chest that couldn't be filled.

At least Bruce had Stephanie trying to fill his loss. It wasn't like anyone had stepped up for her.

Stephanie's grip on a fingerprint slide tightened until she was sure the glass would crack. "Did Tim have you breathing down his neck the whole time, making unnecessary commentary?" Her snark could cost her this role she fought so hard for.

After hours of useless training that didn't even involve punching things, Stephanie wasn't sure if she cared about that.

It took a silent, brooding moment before Bruce answered. "In the field, you won't always be afforded an undisturbed working space. But you also can't tune out distractions that could cost your life."

If she could, Stephanie would punch Bruce. If she thought her fist had the slightest chance of actually connecting with his face before he dodged or deflected it, there would already be a satisfying crunch of bone against bone echoing through the cave. Just the mental image of it made Stephanie almost smile.

She took a slow breath.

"Point taken," Stephanie said carefully. She set the glass slide down, flexing her hand that still itched for violence. Another cruel comment was on her lips when Bruce's hand started massaging her shoulder. The touch was so gentle it forced tension out of her muscles, and Stephanie sighed. "Are we done?"

"No," Bruce was icy, lacking any emotion. "We need to go over your lackluster decoding skills again." His other hand came to rest on her other shoulder, massaging in tandem. It was an electric touch she wanted to lean into.

"For fuck's sake!" Stephanie threw her hands up, then dropped her head into them, rubbing her temples. "What has it been, four hours? We haven't even eaten."

The shadow Bruce cast over her just seemed to grow, engulfing every inch of Stephanie's existence. "This job isn't one that comes with luxuries. And it's a job you asked for," he reminded her. His thumbs were working into Stephanie's neck, perfectly pressing out a stiffness she'd been harboring for weeks. She couldn't stop herself from pressing into the touch. "If you lose even once... you lose things you can't afford to lose. Things I can't afford to lose."

Stephanie looked up from the desk. Her gaze snagged on the memorial case that loomed over her every time she walked into the case. The name that was carefully carved into the plate at the bottom of a boy she never even got to know.

Because he was what Bruce lost.

"You're not going to lose me." Stephanie turned her head to face Bruce, giving him a much kinder look than she'd been wearing just seconds ago. One of Bruce's hands drifted down to hold her bicep. "You know that, right? I know what you've already lost, but I can be better than that."

It was gently possessive. Like, at any moment, she could evaporate, and he would be alone again. For all his flaws, Bruce sure as hell knew how to tug on Stephanie's fragile heartstrings.

"You have no idea what I've lost." Bruce's voice actually broke, like he was a marble statue cracking, every grove held a story. Real emotion, real pain beyond her comprehension. That was a rare thing. Stephanie studied the way his face shifted. She tried to remember all the training he'd given her about noticing small changes and what they meant.

Sorrow and pain in his brow. Worry and tension in the thin pressed line of his mouth.

Love in his eyes. A familiar love Stephanie knew better than anyone.

But he wasn't looking at Stephanie. He was looking at the memorial case.

"Oh," Stephanie realized out loud, eyes going wide. "I didn't know- oh. I'm so sorry, Bruce."

Bruce's gaze snapped away from the case all too abruptly, as if he'd revealed far too much to Stephanie in a single instant. His eyes were guarded again, and he stared down at her with a tense expression, stroking her skin with his thumb.

It was stupid, that Stephanie had never considered this... thing with Bruce to be a unique thing. Maybe she liked the naivety of feeling special in how Bruce showed her attention. She was never going to be the only Robin, definitely never going to be the best Robin, but she had always assumed she was the only one Bruce loved, like that.

The lining of jealousy calling her bones was put out by sympathy for Bruce. The loss of Jason was worse, if that was how he and Bruce were. It was more than losing a sidekick.

It was losing a lover.

Was Tim the same? Probably. Undoubtedly, Stephanie decided. And Dick, the way Bruce talked about them. She'd always known Tim and Bruce were weirdly entangled in ways it wasn't her business to understand, but now, the pieces clicked further into place.

And in one way or another, Bruce had lost all of them.

Now here she was.

No wonder her training was thankless. She could die or leave him at any moment, in Bruce's eyes.

Stephanie properly turned around, spinning her chair. Facing him fully, none of Stephanie's concern was hidden from Bruce. He answered it with a frown, running his fingers through her hair and cupping her face. Stephanie looked at the hand as it lingered on her body. Like Bruce couldn't force himself to pull away. Like he knew he was being selfish, putting her in danger.

But Stephanie wasn't fragile. She had what other Robins didn't. Experience on the field, doing this on her own without Batman. Who knew how strong she could be under his touch, how she’d blossom.

Stephanie stood up and touched Bruce's face. She had to stand on her toes to do it, but she kissed him. Gave him the moment he always needed to go from stiff and overthinking to melting into Stephanie's touch. He kissed back and licked his tongue into her mouth, like she was a decadent food he was savoring.

How he always tasted the same, salty and earthy, Stephanie would never know. She'd add it to the tally of mysteries about Bruce Wayne.

Bruce's hand drifted down to Stephanie's waist. Then, like something out of a movie, He brushed aside all the fingerprint slides, letting some clatter to the floor so he could pick her up around her hips and set her on the table. She was raised up enough that she didn't have to strain to reach his mouth now, letting them deepen the kiss.

For a while, they stayed like that. Kissing and hands wandering. Stephanie slipped her hand under Bruce's cotton t-shirt, feeling against hard muscle and a bandage over a deep cut that had needed stitches only a few days ago. A part of Stephanie wanted to push her fingers under the medical tape, just so she could feel where the cut was. Press her fingers up against the painful wound, exploring where Bruce's flesh ripped open and paid the price for his sloppy actions, as he would put it.

But she didn't. Stephanie did her best to keep the more inhumane parts of herself out of reach from Bruce so he wouldn't scrutinize them and make her feel like more of a failure.

Bruce ran a hand up the inside of Stephanie's thigh until he found the zipper of her jeans and just rested his thumb there. His other hand was cupping one of her breasts in a hold that wasn't nearly tight enough for Stephanie's tastes. It was such a cruel thing, how he was rough and unforgiving with his words, but treated her like a doll about to break whenever he fucked her.

Just once, Stephanie would give anything to fuck the Batman and hear words from Bruce Wayne. Not the other way around.

If she told Bruce that, there was a non-zero chance he would throw her in Arkham for it. He'd told her at length how relationships with women like Catwoman failed because they wanted him to be gentle in places he couldn't be.

He found gentleness for Stephanie in those places, though.

Bruce trailed kisses down Stephanie's throat. She tilted her head back to give him better access for sucking colorful marks into her skin, making her shudder. Her body begged for more where her voice failed her.

"Are you hungry?" Bruce asked, his voice vibrating against her skin.

Stephanie's head was swimming. "What?"

She swore she felt him smile against her throat. "You pointed out we haven't eaten. Do you need dinner, Stephanie?"

"Oh, you bastard." Stephanie smacked his arm, and he let her. "Later. We can order Chinese or something after this."

"Good." Bruce's voice dropped a dangerous octave. He always found some covert way to ask for her consent without directly asking for it. Just another part of his mind games she would never understand.

His hands pushed under her shirt. He pulled away from the kiss long enough to pull it up over her head, exposing Stephanie's plain white bra. She fantasized about being the type of girl who wore fancy lingerie for an older man like Bruce, but that wasn't something for Stephanie's shallow pockets.

She knew she could ask Bruce. He'd probably fall over himself for the chance to buy her lingerie. He always said yes when it came to money things, and even offered her a debit card attached to one of his smaller accounts. Which, in Bruce's language, meant an account with only a couple million instead of hundreds of millions.

But Stephanie always said no. She needed some side of her life to keep to herself without Bruce influencing it.

She needed Bruce to know she could still hold herself above water without him.

Her fingers buried in his short hair, carding through the soft, dark strands that still had the scent of his sandalwood shampoo. If he grew his hair out, it would probably have a faint curl pattern, like the pictures Stephanie had seen of Martha Wayne, from back in the day. It was a shame he kept it so short.

"How are your ribs?" Bruce asked, his fingers brushing over the still purple bruise and making Stephanie wince.

"Fine," she insisted, wiping the pain off her face. She had been the one stupid enough to take a punch from a Riddler goon, of all people. She didn't need Bruce pointing out her failures now.

He didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't push it. Bruce just bent over to press soft kisses over the marks, like he thought his love could heal her. If it could, it would've by now. Just the thought made Stephanie shiver and relax more into his touch.

One of his hands snuck behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. Stephanie shifted her shoulders, and it fell to the ground.

Bruce latched his mouth around one of her nipples. Stephanie groaned and pulled his hair. He always let her be rough, if she needed it. Her nails left angry red marks down his back, and she held onto him so tightly there were bruises. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Stephanie was pretty sure Bruce liked the marks as much as she did, proof that she'd laid claim to him as much as he'd claimed her.

Their relationship was one of reciprocity if nothing else.

It was a maddening tease to have Bruce's mouth on her flesh. He kneaded her other breast with a strong hand that had crushed bones, brushing across her nipple until it was standing upright and there were goosebumps on her flesh. She wanted to stay like this forever, having the goddamn Batman worshipping her skin.

She needed more, though.

Stephanie unbuttoned her own jeans and shimmied them down. They were barely past her hips when Bruce grabbed her wrist.

"What have I told you about patience?" Despite everything, he used the same tone he would've if he was scolding her about rushing into a mission too quickly.

"You're a bastard," Stephanie was breathless just from the few touches he'd given her. Heat was pooling between her legs and she needed to alleviate the pressure somehow, like expressing an infected wound. Sometimes, Stephanie's cunt felt less like a sacred hole for pleasure and more like a bleeding gash that she needed Bruce to provide triage for. He fucked her with the same intimacy that he dressed her stab wounds, finding the gaping flesh and pressing into it until there was finally relief.

Bruce probably didn't see it that way. Stephanie didn't care.

He dared to laugh against her skin, deep and rough. "Relax. Trust your body. Trust me." His voice was so steady and firm, it was hard not to lean against.

Stephanie huffed, but bit her tongue. "At least take your shirt off. Fair is fair."

A gruff hum came out of Bruce, but he complied, pulling away to shuck the garment and give Stephanie one of her favorite views. Like watching a sunset over the Gotham horizon, every time she saw Bruce's naked skin was just a little different. The same gorgeous sight, but if her eyes wandered she would find all the new little scars, the older scars that were fading more, the ever-shifting wall of muscle that didn't look one bit human.

Stephanie groped his chest, running her fingers over coarse hairs that Bruce sometimes shaved, and sometimes didn't. She preferred the natural look, the same way she preferred when he went a few days without shaving. It made him just a touch animalistic.

He went back to devouring her skin with his mouth and hands. Stephanie was at Bruce's mercy as he kissed, sucked, and licked his way across the dips and valleys of her body. He was reverently gentle over her scars with soft kisses. Then he sank his teeth into sensitive places Stephanie never knew she had. The skin under her breasts, the stretch marks over her hip dips that had never quite gone back to normal after she gave birth.

The world spun around them and somehow, Stephanie was the only thing that mattered to Bruce.

When Bruce seemed pleased with the soft marks he'd covered her in, his hands finally pushed Stephanie's pants down the rest of the way, and he helped her kick them off with her shoes.

Then, he got on his knees.

Stephanie's eyes were wide, and her face turned a soft shade of red that matched the hickeys on her chest. "I haven't waxed-"

Bruce arched an eyebrow at her and pushed her knees open. "I don't care."

She didn't know what it was about Bruce, but Stephanie was always too shy about her body around him, expecting him to scrutinize it for the same faults he found in the rest of her. The first time they kissed, she started waxing that same night, from her pubic mound to her asshole, just so she would be smooth for him. She shaved more often, bought a nicer perfume, and tried her hair in styles she never would've worn before. It made Stephanie feel childish, but she could never stop herself.

She needed to be good for him.

Proving the point in his words, Bruce started kissing Stephanie's thigh. He left marks there, too, working his way closer and closer to her cunt. Stephanie could feel her heart rate spiking as the cold air hit her vagina. She was digging her nails into his scalp, too deeply, she realized. But like always, Bruce didn't seem to mind.

Finally, he made his way to his destination.

Bruce's tongue was hotter than a brand over Stephanie's cunt. She gasped and jerked. Every time, it never failed to make her dizzy. It was a reminder how inexperienced Stephanie was at sex. She offered to give him head and without fail, Bruce always said no.

Yet, he did things with his mouth that Stephanie didn't know were fucking possible.

Bruce licked his way inside of Stephanie, pressing his tongue as deep as it would go and flicking upward. A groan ripped out of Stephanie, and she was practically grinding on Bruce's face for more.

He used his hands to pull her folds open for better access. If Stephanie tried closing her legs, Bruce just pushed them back open with his elbows. He forced her on display for him, whining and squirming for desperate pleasure from his mouth.

"Bruce," Stephanie moaned, eyes fluttering. It was a simple pleasure, but an overwhelming one, hard to even look at Bruce without losing herself to it. Every time Stephanie looked down, those piercing blue eyes were locked on her, drinking up her reactions.

It was fucking intimidating, was what it was.

He moved his mouth upward and Stephanie shattered. Chapped lips wrapped around her clit and sucked until Stephanie's eyes were rolling into the back of her head. He flicked and twisted his tongue in ways that shouldn't have been humanly possible to send sparks up her spine. It was like getting shocked over and over again.

His fingers pressed inside of her hole, arching up. It was nothing like being finger banged by a horny teenage boy behind the bleachers and all the other clumsy sexual interactions that crowded Stephanie's youth. This was a touch with experience, fingers curling inside of her with movements that went for precision instead of speed or force. Like Bruce knew he didn't have to rush Stephanie's pleasure, he just had to find the right spots to tug at until he unraveled her.

"Fuck, Bruce!" Stephanie grabbed onto the end of the table and thanked every god that she didn't have super strength, because if she did, the metal would've crumpled under the force she put behind her grip. "You... you're going to drive me fucking insane... Bruce-" She canted her hips up to chase more pleasure. Her body was greedy, making up for how shy her mind wanted her to be.

There was a gleam in his eyes when she managed to look down again. She could see how smug he was about knowing it was only his touch that could reduce her to this, naked with pleasure dripping out of her.

She was going to make a mess of the table. The last time she did that, Bruce gently guided her to her knees and pressed her face into the slick puddle until Stephanie got the message without a single spoken order. Licking up her own cum while Bruce had fucked her behind, a hand around her throat.

That memory was one she still jerked off to. It was too rare for Stephanie to get those wilder, kinkier inclinations out of Bruce, no matter how much she begged for his dirty fantasies she knew he was thinking about every time he looked at her.

One day she'd convince him to do whatever he was thinking about the time he stared at her a little too hard when she was trying to get out of those handcuffs.

The thought of that alone had Stephanie's pleasure rushing toward its crest, and her noises got higher and more desperate. Bruce couldn't say anything, with his mouth locked around her clit and still working it so well, but he stroked her thigh with his thumb as if he was encouraging her to let go.

It may as well have been an order.

And Stephanie obeyed.

She pulled hard on Bruce's hair and clamped her thighs tight around his skull, holding him there. Bruce didn't force them open this time, he just let her body take what it needed. Stephanie was almost positive a third finger pushed inside of her to join the first two filling her as she hit the peak of her orgasm.

A scream tore free from her lungs. She kicked uselessly, one foot accidentally hitting one of Bruce's shoulders. He was a concrete wall, though, not moving or even flinching from it. He just kept licking and sucking and looking through his dark curls to stare at her as she howled. Stephanie tried to say Bruce's name, she tried to tell him how good it felt, but all the words got lost in translation. All she could do was hold onto him and ride through every electric wave, hoping he understood.

Of course, he did. He always did.

Just as Stephanie reached the peak of pleasure and tipped into overstimulation, Bruce pulled off of her clit. He looked almost disappointed by it, staring briefly at her soaked, pink folds. Like he wanted to stay there and make her suffer and beg for reprieve.

If Stephanie had any sense to her, she would've pouted about him not doing just that.

At least his fingers stayed inside of her. They weren't moving anymore, but they were a warm pressure, keeping her full and satiated as her body went boneless. Bruce studied her and watched Stephanie hold herself up with her arm to keep from flopping onto the table and passing out right there.

"Fuck me," Stephanie said, already knowing that Bruce was debating it. Sometimes he fucked her after he ate her out, sometimes he didn't- no matter how she begged for it. Even when she could see the tent in his pants. The time she'd begged particularly hard, he laid her out on his bed and told her to stay still and just jerked off on her tits, as if to prove some kind of point she didn't understand.

She did understand, though, how fucking hot it had been to have his spent pleasure against her skin. Perverse and disgusting, but hot. She had scooped it up with her fingers and sucked them clean in front of him, the only time she ever got to taste his cum. It earned her a scowl as he carried her into the shower, practically dropping her into the tub.

Of course, she did manage to get Bruce to properly fuck her in the shower. So it was a happy memory, no matter how Bruce's disapproving stare the whole time tried to taint it.

A healthy collection of memories. And still, Stephanie's greedy hands wanted more. She wanted, craved more than just his fingers inside of her.

"Please," Stephanie added when Bruce was quiet for too long. She did her best to appear submissive and doe-eyed, looking at him through her lashes and spreading her legs. "I want you to feel good, too. Let me take care of you." When the soft, sultry tone she used didn't do anything to make him budge, Stephanie sighed and grabbed his wrist, pressing her thumb against the pulse point to feel his hammering heartbeat. "Take what you need, Bruce. I'm not going anywhere."

Bruce groaned and Stephanie felt it in her core.

He pushed himself to his feet, fingers still buried inside of her. When he grabbed for one of the drawers to a nearby desk, Stephanie practically preened, knowing she'd won.

"We don't need a condom," Stephanie said. She tried this argument every time. It never worked. She never stopped trying. "I have an IUD and we both get tested regularly-"

"It's not up for debate," Bruce nearly growled. He pulled a condom out and ripped the package out with his teeth. Stephanie squeaked at the sight.

"Let me put it on, at least?" Stephanie said, trying to get her voice out of the higher register he'd startled her into.

Bruce didn't put up a fight as Stephanie opened his jeans with her hands and pushed them down just enough to pull his cock free. He handed her the condom and watched with rapt attention as she stroked him a few times. It got no reaction from Bruce, and Stephanie didn't expect one. She just enjoyed the feeling of his stiff, hot flesh underneath her touch. All the little places only Stephanie got to touch and hold.

She worked him until his cock was twitching, and he grabbed her thigh again and squeezed with warning. Hypocritical bastard. He got all the time he wanted with her body, but she was always rushed when she got to touch him, sliding her hand over his cock and rubbing a thumb over the slick head.

The condom was rolled on as Stephanie imagined putting it on with her mouth. She'd practiced the skill on a dildo more than once in anticipation of the day she finally got to show it off to Bruce. She licked her lips at the thought.

"Good," Bruce grunted when the condom was snugly on his length. It was a coveted, rare praise that made Stephanie almost choke. And somehow, he said it like it was nothing. Like he didn't even mean to. Like he was unaware of how it made her react.

She liked to pretend it just slipped out because he was so caught up in her, but the realist in Stephanie knew that, like everything else about Bruce, it was calculated. Still, she took what she could get.

Bruce tugged Stephanie closer to the edge with his grip on her thigh. It was practically manhandling, and she couldn't stop the moan at the rough treatment that begged for more. Instead of giving her more, Bruce just gave her a sour look and pulled his fingers out of her cunt, and pushed them into her mouth to keep her quiet.

To make her taste the pleasure only he could bring her.

Stephanie mewled and sucked on Bruce's thick, calloused fingers as he lined himself up with a guiding hand. The push in was a blunt pressure, then a fullness that made Stephanie lean back until Bruce wrapped his arm around her shoulders to give her support.

Their bodies were flush together. He buried his face into her neck and breathed in her scent while she tasted his skin, savoring the flavor she only found on him.

Salt and brimstone.

Bruce fucked her at a controlled pace. He never let go to push her body to the limit the way she knew he could. But with how overwhelming it was to be fucked by him, maybe that was a thing. Bruce was thick and long, driving air out of Stephanie's lungs every time he drove in.

He pulled his fingers free from her mouth, and she mourned the loss with a soft noise. His hand trailed down to press against the bottom of her stomach. She didn't know where the hell Bruce learned the trick, but the slight pressure on the outside of her body somehow made the thrusts more intense and filling. It made sure his cock assaulted her g-spot with every stroke and her back arched.

"Bruce, Bruce," Stephanie chanted his name, clawing at his back, not caring that her nails were catching on sensitive scars. She felt like she couldn't think. She locked her legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.

Her back arched until her head was practically hanging upside down, all while Bruce kept his face buried against her collarbone. So he couldn't see where her gaze fell and what made her stuttered noises get more guttural.

The memorial case danced in front of Stephanie's eyes, even from this upside-down shaky view, grounding her to the moment even as she was soaring through pleasure.

Stephanie didn't know much about Jason Todd. She didn't know his hobbies or his favorite books. She didn't know what jokes would make him smile and what worries clouded his head when he was trying to fall asleep.

But she knew they shared this. She knew, in this way, they were always going to be connected. Bruce had been buried deep in Jason the same way he was buried in Stephanie, chasing his pleasure. And just like Stephanie, Jason must've liked it.

How could he not, when being loved by Bruce was like being on a direct path of a meteorite? Fleeting, but brilliant in the chaos.

Stephanie tried to remember what Jason looked like, from the pictures. She tried to imagine how Bruce liked to fuck Jason and what Jason looked like under Bruce. How his dark hair got sweaty and his ocean-blue eyes squeezed shut. What type of noises he would make and what kinds of pleasure he liked.

Did Bruce suck him off? Eat his ass out like he ate Stephanie out?

Did Jason love the fall into absolution the same way Stephanie did?

All the mental images overwhelmed her as the Robin suit danced in front of her eyes, bright colors blurring together. The thought of Jason bent over the same table Stephanie was getting fucked on made her moan and her eyes squeezed shut.

In another universe, maybe they got fucked by Bruce at the same time. Two Robins for the price of one to finally get Bruce to go over the edge and take what he wanted from both of them.

For now, though, Stephanie would have to do the work for both of them. For all the Robins and this torch she carried.

She clenched down around Bruce as best she could. Her second orgasm was already too close. Usually she needed Bruce to stroke her clit to work her to the edge, but now, lost in all her fantasies of a boy she never knew, Stephanie was lost to it. She started to shake.

"Close," Stephanie warned, even when she didn't need to. Her noises were hitched and broken, lost in every thrust.

Bruce didn't speed up, but he did fuck her harder, giving her just a fraction of more force from his strong hips. It pulled a scream out of her, and Stephanie shattered.

The pleasure took its hold on her. Toe-curling and mind-numbing and every other cliche Stephanie thought only happened in porn. She clamped down around Bruce, so tight she didn't know how he managed to keep fucking her.

"Stephanie," Bruce whispered, so softly she almost convinced herself she hallucinated it. It was the only sign she got that Bruce had come, burying himself to the hilt just as her orgasm came to an end. He shivered and exhaled, and nothing else. No loud noises, no sexy dirty talk.

Just unspoken simplicity. Stephanie could appreciate it for what it was.

She nuzzled into him, pressing her head against his and holding him tightly. It would've been a hug if he wasn't still buried inside of her. She even dared to stroke his hair, like a mother soothing a child after a nightmare.

After an orgasm was the rare time Bruce allowed Stephanie to take care of him in these little ways, and she never squandered the chance. She hummed softly, carding her fingers through his curls and rubbing his back.

It wasn't a long moment.

"Chinese?" Bruce asked, pulling away from Stephanie's skin.

Stephanie rummaged around inside her worn mind, trying to find her cockiness. "Worked up that much of an appetite?" She gave him a sharp smile.

"If you don't give me a straight answer, I'll order Pizza Hut," Bruce threatened.

"Oh, gross." Stephanie made a face, afterglow sufficiently killed. "They have the worst pizza, don't you dare."

Bruce gave her a rare smile. He leaned in and kissed her one last time before they had to separate and be real people again.

That was where the memory faded off, for Stephanie. It bled into all the other little almost-domestic moments she had with Bruce.

It was a memory that stuck out because it was the first real time Stephanie had ever thought about Jason. And now, it was a fitting one to mull over as she was curled up against Jason’s chest, enjoying an entirely different afterglow.

And a much more sore body.

Because Jason didn't hold back all the things they both wanted more than anything.

"Say cheese," Stephanie said, holding up her phone to take a selfie.

Jason, whose head was propped up by his arm, looking perfectly serene, cracked an eye open. "What are you doing?" He sounded suspicious, watching as Stephanie twisted and turned the phone, trying to find the perfect angle.

She needed to make sure both of their bare chests were in the picture, with all the bruises and marks covering them.

She needed to make sure there was no mistaking what the photo meant.

"I'm sending this to Bruce," Stephanie hummed. She didn't smile for the picture, but there was an unmistakable smugness in her eyes as she snapped a couple of pictures, giving her options to pick from before pulling the phone back to her face.

Jason snorted. His grip on her hip tightened. "Why?" He didn't protest the idea.

Stephanie just shrugged. "It'll piss him off."

"You like kicking hornets' nests that much?"

"You've got no room to talk. How many heads were in that duffel bag again?" Stephanie gave him a deadpan look before going back to her phone. She debated on a message to send with the selfie, before ultimately deciding on none.

After all, Bruce was a man of few words. Surely he would understand.

Jason made an annoyed noise but didn't argue. "Tell me what he says back," he said, closing his eyes again and adjusting to get more comfortable in bed. This was his base they had chosen to fuck in.

The first place they fucked on was a rooftop. But of course, the lighting there wasn't the best for a selfie, so Stephanie had to hold off on taunting Bruce.

Sleeping with Jason was a lot more dangerous than sleeping with Bruce had been. She heard all the warnings and stories about what he was capable of and how he wasn't the sweet boy he'd once been.

Maybe she liked the danger. Maybe she needed someone who would finally stop treating her like a doll.

And just maybe, she needed to gloat.

The message was marked as read nearly as soon as it was sent. The three little dots indicating Bruce was typing appeared and disappeared no less than a dozen times. It made her smile, imagining him sputtering and cycling through emotions as he tried to figure out a response.

Just as Stephanie was sure she wasn't going to get any response, a message appeared on her screen.

Thank you for the photo. If you plan to send more, I still have your Robin suit. You can wear it in the next one.

Stephanie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She elbowed Jason in the ribs and showed him the screen.

Jason grunted and looked down for a moment, silent. "I'd fuck you in your Robin suit," was the only input he offered.

"Only if you're wearing yours too," Stephanie rolled her eyes at how unhelpful he was.

Jason gave the thought a hum, considering. "Ask Bruce if he still has it, and I'll think about it."

She had no idea if he was serious or not. It was always hard to tell, with Jason. She had no idea if Bruce was serious either. Maybe he was playing some kind of cruel joke on her too, trying to outsmart her in some game of chess just because she'd dare to mock him with the picture.

At the very least, she could be pleased she got under his skin either way.

Stephanie smiled and typed out what Jason had said, hitting send.

She always did like calling people's bluff. Whatever the outcome was, one thing was sure.

The game was on. And Stephanie wasn't stopping until she got the last fiber of Bruce's control to snap. 

[burning-academia-if]

I decided on doing monthly updates for BA, so I'll be doing a brief overview of November's progress! I'll also add an 'around the blog' section because some notable things happened/were posted! I doubt this part will be monthly, but if I have a busy month here, I'll add it since I know it's easy to miss some things!

Progress Report:

Updated the demo back in the start of November with general fixes.

Finished the (very rough) first draft of Chapter 1! Current word count is just over 23k, but I'm going back to edit and add scenes/flavor text.

Added scenes/notes to the general outline.

Finished Chapter 2's detailed outline.

Decided to officially add in the poly routes! (remind me to update the main post with them at some point lmfaO). These routes include: Beck/Rook for Dawn and Day paths, Rook/??? for Night path, and Rhea and Zoe for Dawn and Dusk paths! Beck/Rook and Rook/??? are triads ie all 3 of you have romantic feelings for each other. Rhea and Zoe is a V ie they both have romantic feelings for you but not each other (although they'll have a close friendship).

Around the blog:

Painted and posted all the RO portraits!

1k follower bonus stories: Rook's and ???'s

Favorite ask/answer: Some facts about MC's family and Orpheus/Eurydice

General:

With all that out of the way, progress may slow a bit and I might be a little more scarce because I finally got a job! I can't say when Chapter 1 is going to be out, but it should be no later then January (I also made a chaotic decision to do two game jams in December because why not?). This is mostly because I want to finish setting up all the stat pages and have them ready for the next update as well! I'm guessing after edits Chapter 1 will total anywhere between 25k to 30k words. With all that being said, have a very wip preview of chapter 1:

[Text version]

'...You...are..."

You grimace, eyes blinking once. Then twice. You've never slept walked before in your life, but now you find yourself with one hand bracing against the sink counter in the bathroom. Your other hand hovers, palm out, gaze latched onto it by an unknown force.

"What…?" You stumble back, eyebrows furrowing as you take a look around you. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

[theicarusconstellation]

Jegulus bartylily foursome

correct yes yes yes yes

[kalijhomentethi]

the kink meme (nsfw) includes triggering content, pls don’t open if you’re not comfortable with it!

Top 5 Favorite Kinks 1. Biting / Marking 2. Choking 3. Knifeplay 4. Bondage 5. JOI Bonus: Voice / Praise, always

tagged by: nobody, i yoinked it kjdsfjkdfs tagging: whoever wants to do it!!

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

blank copy:

[vullcanica]

I see all the sexual preference meme games on the dash and they look fun and I'm always tempted to fill one out but like.. I'm not trying to false advertise. Bolding 'biting kink' or 'knife play' for Nik is a lot like putting up a bad dog sign when you have a 150 pound feral wolf in your yard. It also does fuckall to sufficiently prepare you for the russian roulette your muse would unwittingly play by bedding just about half my roster.

[knavesflames]

What about some vampire king arlecchino where she drinks blood-wine and keeps reader on her lap like a pet 😋

ӄɨռӄȶօɮɛʀ աɛɛӄ 1

[scheduled post]

Thank you for kickstarting my kinktober <3 I took the idea and ran with it but I’m actually quite happy with how it turned out, and I hope everyone else is too <3

Word count: 1.8k

Contents: fingering, vampire!arlecchino x human fem!reader

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino, a vampire so powerful that she terrifies both vampires and humans alike. Rumour has it that she once killed a man just by appearing next to him and whispering. She’s hauntingly terrifying, and somehow, the most beautiful creature you’ve ever set your eyes on. You can’t trick yourself into thinking that she doesn’t horrify you, that something about her chills you to the bone and makes you almost pray she has mercy on you when she decides to kill you. Arlecchino seems to have taken a liking to you, however.

Watching you from afar each night, only appearing at your door after the clock strikes midnight, you noticed quickly that she was quite a persistent woman thing when she decided to be. At first, you ignored the knocking on the wood of your door (the only thing that separated you and her). When you refused to answer (for you knew you would meet your end the second you stared into those soulless eyes), she began speaking. Pleading, almost. “Let me in,” her voice, barely a whisper, had reached you even through the headphones you had on in an attempt to drown her out. You wondered if the powers she was rumoured to possess were, in fact, true.

You’d like to say you withstood it. That you were able to wait until she had gotten bored, and that you were not like the others. The others. What became of them, once she was finished? Were they, perhaps, the other vampires you knew roamed about the land? Or, had they become nothing more than bones buried in soil, waiting to be discovered by some aspiring archaeologist in decades to come? Nobody knew. Nobody wanted to.

Alas, you did not withstand it. After a few months of her lurking by your door, you made the grand mistake of opening it. Immediately, your eyes moved to the floor. If there was one thing you, and everyone else knew, was that it was incredibly unwise to look into her eyes. They were not normal eyes. They did not have an iris, or a pupil. They were black holes with crosses the colour of spilled blood. Something that seemed so simple, and yet, you have known of people who looked, and were left so scared they could no longer speak.

“May I enter? Your home looks ravishing.” Her voice was a drawl, one that pierced whatever guard you were attempting to put up. You opened your mouth, nothing came.

“Look at me.” You realised by then that the rumours about whatever powers she could possess were true, for you, despite your screaming mind and attempts to stay looking down, found your eyes travelling up her frame. Arlecchino was taller than you realised, and her heels certainly didn’t help. Her suit, somehow a pristine white (how odd for a bloodthirsty vampire), contrasted against the inky black in her hair. “May I enter?”

Your head unwillingly found itself nodding, but clearly, that wasn’t enough, for she demanded once more. “Say it.”

“..you can come in.” You muttered. From then, she would visit you quite often, and you would come home to find her casually sitting at your dining table. You grew quite attached to her, though you detested admitting it. When you learned that she would not leave you alone, you found yourself appeasing her, stocking up on candles she enjoyed, playing her favourite songs quietly. You both grew close, in all honesty, and you understood that the night she made your head fall back in pleasure and your voice break from the countless moans you let out. Something about her made your heart beat faster and your breathing heavier. (Was it fear or arousal? Did the fear somehow arouse you more? You refused to explore that train of thought because you knew the answer)

One October night, you come home after work only to find her there once again. Not a surprise anymore, you think, you almost knew she’d be there. On the nights where the air is bitter and there are no stars in the sky, she opts to spend her time with you. You offer a small hum of acknowledgment, but don’t look at her. You try not to look at her, ever.

“Come here.” Arlecchino’s voice carries through your small apartment, the familiar thrum of her fingers tapping on the table. When your eyes move to the table, you notice a wine glass. One of yours, you’re aware, but you didn’t own any wine. The cogs begin to turn as you take a few steps closer.

Her hand, blackened with patterns you can’t help but secretly admire, pats her knee, the soft sound of the fabric reaching your ears. You abide, once again, swallowing as you perch there, your body tense. One hand wraps around your waist, and with strength, too much strength, pulls you closer. Her body, which one would expect to be cold, is burning hot, and as much as you hate doing so, your body instinctively leans into it. The room is cold, and she seems to hum when she feels you rest your body weight onto her. Your jaw tenses when you begin to question if you’re even scared of her anymore.

Until, that is, she sips the wine in the glass she so graciously stole from you. Wine. ‘Wine’. It feels like ice shoots through your veins when you smell the familiar metallic smell of blood, the one that seems to always coat her skin just faintly. It is then that you realise she isn’t drinking wine at all, but blood. Fresh blood, even. You feel sick until her voice cuts through your mind.

“I can hear that heart of yours. Scared, hm?” The words are almost teasing, and somehow, it almost seems like she cares. You shudder when her breath (and her fang) grazes your skin as she speaks. You cannot decide if you want to stay or run. You are horrified.

“That isn’t wine.”

“No, it isn’t. I never said it was, you assumed.” Arlecchino murmurs, moving to begin placing gentle kisses along the skin of your neck, causing your eyes to flutter closed. In times like these, you forget she isn’t human anymore.

“I should have known you were like every other vampire.” You whisper, mostly to yourself. Even so, you allow your head to tilt to give her better access. Your mind is slightly fuzzy, but you hear her place the glass on the table, and you feel the way her hands are sliding under your shirt. You let her. You like it.

“I’m not like every other vampire,” she protests quietly, but the words are full of amusement and mockery. “I’m worse.” Her words are punctuated by a small bite on your earlobe, one that causes you to moan yelp. The creature woman almost chortles at your moan, and chooses to push away your bra roughly. She cups your breast like her hands were made to do so, and suddenly she isn’t so gentle. She presses hot, open mouthed kisses onto your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, whatever skin she can access. Your arms circle her shoulders, and your hands weave into the snowy strands of her ponytail. When she gets this way, you always wonder whether she’s going to eat you, or, well, eat you.

Slender fingers fumble with the buttons of your jeans for a few seconds before she gets irritated, muttering a low curse before using those sharp, sharp nails to just rip the fabric. She lets out a noise of satisfaction when she hears the seams rip and you gasp. Without even thinking, you let your thighs spread, and she hums in approval.

“Good. Keep them like that, or else.”

“Or else, what?” You breathe, but the only reply you get is her fangs digging into your skin just slightly. You let out a breathy sigh, relishing each time her lips move against your skin, each time the tip of her fangs touch your skin, threatening, but never acting. (You’re unsure if she ever would bite you) (on certain evenings with her, you almost wish she would so you could spend your life with her)

“Please,” you murmur, and it seems that tonight, she is merciful, for her fingers move between your folds, a low chuckle coming from her throat.

“Excited, are we?” Arlecchino dons a wicked grin that only grows when she pushes said fingers into you, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you. She starts slowly, letting you adjust, but after only a few movements, your body is asking for more, hips twitching in an attempt to get her to hit that spot.

She does as you want her to, again, and again until each breath of yours comes out as a groan, a moan or a whimper. Your hands grip onto her suit like it’s a lifeline, your eyes are squeezed shut.

“I could bite you now,” she murmurs, clearly excited by even the thought of it. Clearly, you are too, by the sound you make and your heart beats faster. “I like you too much to do that, my plaything, but the thought is good, no?”

Each thrust of her fingers brings you closer and she’s very, very aware of that. You are, too. Your hips are essentially riding her fingers at this point, and she lets you. “I have heard that blood tastes the best when one orgasms. Should we try? I think yours would taste the sweetest.”

Those words alone seem to send you over the edge, because with a final whine, your breath stops for a second and you see stars. “Fuck—“ your swearing is so loud that it echoes the room, and Arlecchino knows that for as long as she exists, she will remember the sound of it, even after you are long gone (unless she can gather the courage to turn you one day. She can’t fathom the idea that she turns you and one day you despise her, that she’ll have to walk around with that knowledge).

Sliding her fingers out of you with a slick pop, her tongue darts out, wetting her lips before resting her fingers on her tongue. She moans at the taste of it, she believes it’s better than any blood she could ever taste. Arlecchino used to tell herself that she’d get what she wanted and leave you for the rest of the night, but these days, she’s been staying much longer than she should be. So, when you end up talking asleep on her, she lets you, even choosing to stroke your hair and trace circles against the pulse point in your neck with one hand, her other now holding the wine glass again. She thinks absentmindedly for a long time, swirling the wine in her glass.

By the time you awaken, you’re in your bed, blankets tucked around your body, the apartment’s heating on medium, and her lipstick marking the pulse points of your wrist and your neck.

[calisources]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.

I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

You're still looking.

You make it hard to look away.

I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.

If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.

How long are you going to make me wait?

How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.

You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.

You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?

We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?

They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?

You're too soft.

Can we go back to making out now?

You sound jealous.

Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.

If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.

Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?

And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?

You're wet, aren't you?

You drove me mad.

She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.

I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.

I'm all yours to look at, you know.

You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.

Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.

. . .I hate you.

Say it again.

Grind it. Nice and fine.

I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.

Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.

Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?

Is that a challenge, Feyre?

Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?

Move with me now.

Touch me anywhere you please.

I want you to make love to me.

Do you know what that truly means?

You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?

I want you inside me.

You have three minutes to get ready now.

I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.

What was I doing in your dreams?

Someone is watching us through the window.

All the more reason to put on a good show.

You're not in a position to make demands.

The best things are found in the most secret places.

And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.

When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.

You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?

I thought you were all about self-control.

I remember how powerful those thighs are.

You are more beautiful than I imagined.

And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.

I'm naked underneath.

Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Please, don’t stop.

Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?

I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.

I’ve never been with a man before.

You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.

And you, Miss, are no lady.

[stargirlrchive]

── MINE w/ SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

cw: gender neutral reader, smut, penetration, porn no plot, jealous possessive simon (im riding him as we speak), hair pulling, enemies to fuck buddies (?), that’s all 😜

NSFT ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

GENERAL MASTERLIST

simon’s fingers dipped into the soft plush of your hips as you buried your face into the blankets. his thick thighs pressed against the back of yours as his cock bullied its way into your tight heat.

tangling one hand into you hair to pull you up and tip your head back as he fucked you with an agonizingly slow pace.

“i’m sorry for getting you angry earlier, you’re just so fun to rile up.”

your teeth grit together as you snarled at him, “just shut up, and fuck me.”

he laughed quietly, letting go of your hair to cage you in between himself and the bed. his muscled chest pressed against your back, tilting your head to the side with his nose and he licked down the side of your neck.

“you know you like it when i piss you off. gets you all horny and desperate.”

you growled out his name in warning, but he delivered a particularly hard thrust that had your legs giving out beneath you and you let out a pathetically whiney moan.

“if i got my kicks from being pissed off, i’d just have graves fucks me.”

simon stilled at your words, and an excited thrill ran through you as you tightened around him.

pulsing with nerves as he growled by your ear, “don’t ever mention that bastards name when my cock is inside of you.”

“jealous?”

your back arched again, and in a motion that was lightning fast, he had pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back. your eyes widened softly as his one of his hands pinned your arms above your head.

“need i remind you that this,” he emphasized what he meant by pushing the tip of his cock into you once more, “is mine.”

you were breathless and writhing beneath him as he fully sunk into you, “is it?”

he grunted quietly, lifting your hips to thrust into you deeper. a loud mewl fell from your mouth as he knocked the tip of his cock deep inside of you. pressing against the spot that had you seeing stars.

“yes it is. and you’ll do well to remember that.”

[cookiekissers]

Mango plisplis I beg u in my knees nsfw wind archer shot or hcs please there’s not enough content of him pls i want to see how u write him plisplis 😢😢😢😢

🔥🔞 [Wind Archer x Reader NSFT]

Wind Archer my boy let's gooooooooooo also the premise for this one may be a little silly lmao but it's smut for smuts sake

The underground passageways were choked with darkness, filled with the sounds of something writhing and squelching just out of view. Things slunk in and out of the shadow just out of the corner of your eye, and you clung to Wind Archer Cookie's arm, feeling unease grip your dough.

You had joined Wind Archer Cookie in his mission to find the dark heart of Dark Enchantress' facility. On your end, your task was much simpler, mainly recon and stealing any sensitive documents to discover what the Cookies of Darkness' future plans were.

"We should split up from here." You suggested quietly. Wind Archer Cookie gave you a look of surprise. It was an unexpected proposition considering you were clinging to his arm. "That way we can find what we're both after and get out of here quickly." You added.

"Y/N Cookie, I can't let you go off by yourself. What if something happens and I'm not there?" Wind Archer Cookie said with a frown. You pulled away from Wind Archer with a small smile and unsheathed your ornate forest short sword.

"Don't worry about me, alright? I can handle myself." You reassure, sliding your sword back into its scabbard.

At least you would have been under normal circumstances. You massively underestimated the evil lurking within the depths of this cursed facility. Catching things moving from the corner of your eye as if someone was following you, shadows seemingly moving by themselves, and eyes watching your every movement.

You held your sword at the ready tensely as you snuck down the empty hall. A distinct laugh echoed from the darkness ahead, sending a wave of chills through your dough. Through the gloom, you could almost make out a faint silhouette of a Cookie...

Wind Archer Cookie slid out of the slimy drain pipe into the welcoming embrace of nature that surrounded the Laboratorium. In his haste to escape, he had completely forgotten that you were still inside the facility. Despite his exhaustion and injuries, he had to go back in to rescue you as he sensed something was terribly wrong.

Wind Archer Cookie panted and collected himself, but before he could take a step towards the Laboratorium, the snapping of a twig made him whip around and reflexively draw his bow. You stumbled out of the undergrowth and collapsed, your forest short sword dropping with a heavy thud onto the mossy ground.

"Y/N Cookie!!" Wind Archer Cookie gasped, and withdrew his bow. He ran to your side and flipped you onto your back to check for injuries.

There was a flash of silver and Wind Archer forcefully caught your wrist before you could plunge a dagger into his chest. He grunted with effort as you fought with everything you had in you.

"Y/N Cookie, what are you doing?!" Wind Archer Cookie exclaimed as he struggled to keep you at bay. Your eyes were unnaturally bright blue, and the mark of the Beast of Deceit branded on your left eye.

"Did you think it would be that easy to escape, Greenski?" Shadow Milk Cookie's demented voice fell from your lips, making Wind Archer's jam run cold.

You suddenly gritted your teeth and arched your back as you fought the possession, you gasped and cried out. Wrestling with your own limbs like they were being controlled by invisible strings.

"Wind Archer Cookie, help me!!" You shouted. Wind Archer Cookie hesitated. He felt helpless as he struggled to control your flailing limbs and wrestle the knife from your hand. He couldn't use his arrows to purify you and risk harming you, and at this close range he didn't have even a moment to draw his bow.

"Do something!" You cried again, tears spilling from your eyes. You clutched desperately at the grassy floor, as you battled to keep a hold of your own mind.

"Aww no fair, its two against one!" Shadow Milk Cookie cackled in your head.

"Do it! Do it, Y/N Cookie! After you make that pesky Green Bean into a salad, you can come and be mine instead."

The tormenting laughter echoed in your head and it wasn't long before you couldn't tell reality from illusion anymore. You weren't able to see what you were doing clearly, Wind Archer Cookie's appearance swimming and shifting right before your eyes. All you could focus on was restraining your hand that clutched the knife that was aiming to stab the Cookie who was so precious to you.

Wind Archer Cookie grimaced as he finally knock the dagger from your hand and pinned your wrists to the forest floor. He had a way to heal and free you of the Beast's control, but it was unconventional and unseemly. He couldn't see another way out of this that didn't harm you.

Wind Archer Cookie would have to use his body to purify you.

"Don't worry, Y/N Cookie. I can help you. But... I need you to trust me." He murmured. "I will do everything in my power to free you from this Beast." Wind Archer Cookie promised firmly.

"I-I trust you. Do it!" You grunted.

Wind Archer Cookie gulped. Though he knew what he must do to save you, he still felt nervous. This was a difficult path he chose, one that he hoped that both of you wouldn't regret by the end.

Wind Archer Cookie leaned over you and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you gently and tenderly. His lips moved softly against yours, slowly, sweetly. Your eyelids flickered closed as you let yourself be swept away by the warmth of his touch. The familiar feeling of the forest and its life giving energy filled you, making you feel lighter for a brief moment. Wing Archer Cookie pulled away abruptly, leaving you gasping for breath. He gazed into you eyes intently, hoping it was enough to drive Shadow Milk Cookie from your mind.

You body twitched and your eyes snapped open.

"Ohh, how romantic! Greenie, you dog, kissing Y/N Cookie like that! Is there something you want to tell them?" Shadow Milk Cookie's voice taunted. Wind Archer Cookie recoiled slightly.

It hadn't been enough to release you from the Beast's grip.

Wind Archer Cookie knew that he must take much more drastic measures, though he wished it hadn't come to this. His heart ached when he saw the pain flash across your face and you were losing the battle to Shadow Milk Cookie's control, but he couldn't bring himself to hesitate now.

He roughly tugging your pants off, revealing your naked form.

"W-Wind Archer Cookie!" You stammered in surprise. Wind Archer Cookie ignored the heat rising in his cheeks.

"Please trust me, Y/N Cookie..." He pleaded in desperation. Your eyes widened as you realized what Wind Archer Cookie had to do. You face flushed but you nodded with determination.

"It's ok. Let's do it." You replied. Wind Archer Cookie gave you a weak smile gratefully as he bent low over you, pressing his lips to yours once more in a deep, passionate kiss. It was an oath, a promise that Wind Archer Cookie would protect you from this evil infesting your body. Your thighs trembled in anticipation as Wind Archer Cookie pulled down his pants while he kissed you with every ounce of passion he possessed.

He had always wanted to do this with you, but he wished your first time together didn't have to be under duress.

Wind Archer Cookie gently guided himself to your entrance, he kept his lips locked with yours to distract you, and took great care not to hurt you. A pinch of momentary pain made you gasp against the wind guardian's lips as he pushed inside you. You clenched tightly around him. Wind Archer Cookie pushed down onto the soft patch of earth beneath you, groaning deeply as you instinctively opened up underneath him until he was buried completely in your heat. You moaned quietly, letting out a small whimper. The sound sent shivers down his back.

Wind Archer gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he began thrusting slowly into you. Your legs trembled as you tried to get comfortable around him. You could already feel your core clenching as the pleasure began to build in your abdomen. Wind Archer Cookie watched as your face flushed, beads of sugar sweat beginning to form along your forehead. He bit back a moan, you felt so good. Your insides were hot and tight just like he had always imagined.

He began to move faster, his pace increasing with each thrust. You cried out and clutched onto the wind guardian's shoulders, your body trembled with pleasure and your legs automatically wrapped around Wind Archer's hips. The air was filled with the sound of your moaning and the lewd sounds of Wind Archer's hips slamming against you. You writhed beneath him as Wind Archer Cookie continued to pound into you relentlessly. You could barely breathe as the pleasure built faster and stronger. Suddenly, your eyes flew open, the invisible strings tied to you forcing you to jolt up and sink your teeth into the dough of Wind Archer Cookie's shoulder. He gasped.

"Hang in there, Y/N Cookie!" Wind Archer Cookie grunted. "Keep fighting the Beast!" He encouraged. Your jaws tightened as he drove deeper and deeper into you, biting him harder with every stroke. Wind Archer Cookie adjusted his position quickly, pinning you against the soil as he pistoned his cock into you faster and harder than before. The new position made you see stars as Wind Archer hit you in just the right place.

The wind guardian's breathing became ragged as he was approaching his limit. After one final thrust, he came undone inside of you, filling you to the brim with his warm seed. You cried out Wind Archer's name as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The knot in your stomach snapped, opening the floodgates, and the intense waves of pleasure crashed over you as an orgasm wracked your body. Wind Archer Cookie held you tightly as you both panted hard and came down from your highs.

With the throbbing of Wind Archer Cookie's cock inside you, you felt the purifying energy of the forest thrum within you. The hold that Shadow Milk Cookie had on you faded, and you felt a sense of peace wash over you now that your mind was finally calm. Wind Archer Cookie let go of you slowly, placing affectionate kisses along your forehead and neck as he slipped out of you, his cum dripping from your entrance.

"Y/N Cookie... are you alright?" Wind Archer asked worriedly. You looked up at him with a soft smile.

"Yeah... I'm ok. Better than ok, actually." You laughed quietly. Wind Archer Cookie avoided your eyes for a moment.

"I'm sorry I let this happen. And... that we had to do this." He frowned, a look of shame crossing his face. You quickly cupped Wind Archer Cookie's face in your hands reassuringly.

"No, no, it's ok, really!" You insisted. "Honestly, do you think we could... go for another round?" You requested shyly. The wind guardian's eyes widened and his face almost went entirely red.

"Y/N Cookie, now is not that time for that. We have to report back to Millennial Tree Cookie." Wind Archer Cookie huffed bashfully.

"O-Oh, yeah. We should probably get out of here anyway." You replied, your face flushing in embarrassment.

The two of you fixed your appearances the best you could after the passionate and intense activity. Brushing leaves and dirt from your clothing. You tried to stand but your legs wobbled like they were made of jelly and you couldn't walk a few steps without stumbling.

Wind Archer Cookie swiftly scooped you up into his arms bridal style.

"Here, I got you." He said. You couldn't help but blush.

"Thanks..." You replied. It was quiet for a long moment as Wind Archer Cookie carried you through the untamed floral of Beast-Yeast's forest. He cleared his throat a little, suddenly hiding his reddening cheeks with his scarf.

"When we get back home, we could... continue. If you want." Wind Archer Cookie offered hesitantly. You blushed brightly and nodded.

"I would really like that." You replied eagerly.

[blue-willow-tree]

⋆｡˚୨ About Me ୧˚｡⋆

The image on the right is me. Dividers are by @adornedwithlight

Hi there xx

ִֶָ࣪☾. You can call me Willow

ִֶָ࣪☾. I am 20, genderfluid, afab, and I'm comfortable with any pronouns. I'm 1.65m <3

ִֶָ࣪☾. I'm a femme switch. This blog mostly showcases my dom side. This is a BDSM blog.

ִֶָ࣪☾. I'm single, unclaimed, and not looking x Moots are free to be flirty x

ִֶָ࣪☾. My asks are open for advice (bdsm related), naughty confessions, sweet words and dirty ones too x Read my anon rules below. However, please don't ask me for advice on virginity, straps, or anything of that sort. The most I've taken is fingers and my hairbrush. I have a humiliation kink, feel free to tease.

ִֶָ࣪☾. I'm sapphic, however my blog is open to any and all queer folk that are apart of the bdsm community.

ִֶָ࣪☾. You can call me Mommy, Miss, Ma'am, Bun, or Ms bunny x Never solely "bunny".

EDUCATIONAL / INFORMATIONAL:

Toxic subs | cnc | when you have a toxic dom/me | domme vs dom | collaring in the bdsm world | degradation for good girls | getting in touch with your dominance as a switch | A healthy bdsm relationship | The importance of friendship in a dynamic | Safewords aren't a kink | How to handle your partners sub/dom drop | Deep dive on CNC and trauma kinks | Punishments | Exploring BDSM as a beginner | No sexualizing little space | How to become moots | A note to the straight girls

MY WRITINGS/POSTS:

Sub posts: Strapped down for the first time | Stalker | Use me | Don't be nervous | For your pleasure | Why? | Oh, you're older than me? | Permission

Domme posts: Yes | Clever girl | Hi there! | Shy sub | In the mood to bully | Possessive urge | Sub in a skirt | It's been a long day | Shh, don't think | Tap tap | Boots | Spam liking | Nerdy love | Fidget toy | Shy subs 2 | Rough | An innocent girl | Edging | Thereee we go | Subby puppy | A sweet girl | Power bottom | I want to watch you | Shy dom/mes | Kiss me | Messy | Consequences | I want to eat you out | Dress you up | Voice kink | Grip | Oral fixation

Switch posts: Switch love | A sapphic morning | My future wife | I just love being a switch |

FUN:

2 simple facts, 2 fun | Fun facts | mommy issues | Storytime | Nsft Ask Game | focused bear | chilling bear | happy bear | appreciative bear | My NSFW Confession list | tagged game | tagged game 2

As of 23 Jan, I have an sfw sideblog where I post sfw moodboards, simply for the soft and cozy aesthetic as well as for those apart of the cg/agere/littlespace community x

WHAT I WILL FEATURE IN MY BLOG:

I'm a very soft dom, but don't misunderstand. I am the type of dom that enjoys mind games. I'm sadistic, but not in the physical way. I'm the type to degrade you in such a sweet way that it confuses you x I enjoy slowly dumbing a sub down through actions instead of words. I'll choose your outfits for you, I'll make sure you don't need to have a single thought in your head. If you don't like this type of domming, my posts aren't for you x

I am also a very devoted sub. I will likely never have posts about being a brat, I prefer obedience, rewards, and not causing any hassles for anyone. Brats are welcome here, but I rarely cater towards any through my posts, whether it be submissively of dominantly x Don't get me wrong, I adore brats and I occasionally get overwhelmed enough to be a brat as well <3 It's just very rare for me, so I won't have many posts about it x

My domme style is very similar to how Wanda Maximoff/Elizabeth Olsen is depicted in fanfics. Random, I know, but we're very similar in that way and she'll always be a comfort character/person of mine. <3. My domme style is described more further into this post.

MY ASK BOX:

Here are my precious claimed anons. I've sorted them to make it easier to look through, for those that are wanting to become a new anon <3

Animals: 🦭•🐻•🦦•🦊•🐞•🐼•🐇•🦓•🕊•🐿•🪼•🐨•🐮•🦌•🐈‍⬛️•🐺•🦔•🐭•🦝•🐶•🐝•🦋•🕷•🐕

Plants:🌷•🍀•🍄•🎄•🪻•🌹•🥀•🍁•🌵

Foods: 🍓•🍎•🍒•🍑•🍰•🥐•🫘•🍥•🥚

Sky:🌙•⭐️•💫•🌑•🌌•☀️•🪐•🛸•✨️•🌜•🌠•🌤

Other: 🍬 • 🪩•💌•🎀•🧸•🗡️•🤎•💙•🩷•🔮•👸•🪽🐾•🎧•💚•🩶•🥁•⚰️•🎃•🧛🏻‍♀️•🫧•🎱•💜•🐚•💭•🕸️•🧡•🦴•👻•🏴‍☠️•🍸•🎁•🍷•💿•☃️•🖌•🩹•🧼•😇•💋•🎨•😈•👾•🤠•🧬

RULES FOR MY ASK BOX:

Do not spam my ask box. If you send an ask in, please wait until that one is replied to. Do not send multiple before I've even gotten to your first one. You'll be blocked.

When you send in an ask for the first time and plan on becoming an anon, please send in your age and pronouns and pick an emoji that is not in the list above. Or, if you'd like, you may ask me to choose one for you.

I'm a voyeur. I love hearing people's fantasies. If you have one you'd like to send to me, please send it in. It doesn't have to align with my likes, as long as there's nothing about my hard-no's.

Cnc asks are welcome (stalking, kidnapping, etc)

RULES FOR MY BLOG:

If you dm me, please understand that I am not a therapist. I also have my own triggers. Please do not have a sweet conversation with me then start talking about going back on an Ed or self harm. This has happened before, and it makes me feel backed into a corner.

I am a switch. Yes I mostly have dominant posts, but understand that I am a switch. I can never be in a relationship where I am purely submissive, or purely dominant. Please understand that. I will occasionally have sub posts.

I will only show my face to people I grow connections with or become genuine friends with. I don't send ludes unless I make a post that I'll be privately sharing ludes x

DO NOT INTERACT:

Cis het men. Minors. Pedophiles. Homophobes. Transphobes. Haters. Fake BDSM members. Ageless accounts. Blank accounts. Cis hets. This blog is not for you.

WHAT I LIKE + MY KINKS:

I am femme4all <3

I like sweet subby women, as well as dominant women. Older women are my weakness.

I am a switch, with no lean. Sometimes I need a pretty sub to do whatever I want with, and sometimes I need a gorgeous or handsome (wlw/wlnb) dom to turn me into their mess.

I love choking, gentle corruption, soft dumbification, service subs, bondage, sweet objectification, sweet petnames, slightly mean petnames, soft mean degrading, praise, somno, some pervy-ness, strap usage, breeding (no actual pregnancy) , finger sucking, cnc and some pervy ones that I keep to myself and won't ever post about. My submission has to be earned. To all exhibitionists, I love to hear about all your pervy kinks and how you get off, even if they aren't on my kink list. As long as they aren't in my "hard no's", tell me all about it in my ask box <333 I'm a voyeur. (ALL ARE G/R)

HARD NO's:

Scat, watersports, gore, vore, cis het men, anal, anything that involves cheating.

[shalomniscient]

real deal || ruan mei x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

It wasn’t like you were jealous. No, such trivial feelings are below a Leviathan such as yourself. Yet somehow, the mere thought of Ruan Mei entering that forsaken Simulated Universe to study those equally forsaken Aeons made you feel a little… possessive. You may not be an Aeon nor an Emanator, but you are something older and better than both—why should she bother with petty imitations when reality can be so much more fulfilling? Or, you show Ruan Mei how much better you are than some simulation.

cw. top!reader, bottom!ruan mei, reader has a dick and a big one, monsterfucking because reader isn’t human, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk

notes. i’m on my bottom ruan mei agenda fellas 📣📣 also i took heavy liberties with leviathan lore because i wanna write some monsterfuckery, sue me idc. reader’s ‘human’ appearance is loosely based off @/_maiqo’s art of monster!mei on twt so uhhh ifykyk

“There we go, isn’t this much better than some simulation?”

Your voice is a low, rumbling croon as you lean down to whisper in Ruan Mei’s ear. Your breath is warm against her already flushed skin, and you relish in the way gooseflesh rises along her nape. You’re pretty much hunched over her now, one clawed hand at her hip while the other braces your form above her on the bed. The points of your nails threaten to rip the sheets, which Ruan Mei would typically chastise you for—but she doesn’t, because right now she’s too stuffed full of your cock to answer in any sort of meaningful way. 

You had practically pounced on her once she returned from that space station, the nauseating scent of Destruction clinging to her clothes. It wasn’t like you were jealous. No, such trivial feelings are below a Leviathan such as yourself. Yet somehow, the mere thought of Ruan Mei entering that forsaken Simulated Universe to study those equally forsaken Aeons made you feel a little… possessive. You may not be an Aeon nor an Emanator, but you are something older and better than both—why should she bother with petty imitations when reality can be so much more fulfilling? 

Ruan Mei’s body shudders when you drag a finger up and down her thigh. You’re not even bottomed out yet, just your tip and a little extra, but even then Ruan Mei’s perfect, pretty cunt clenches and squeezes so tightly against you. You exhale slowly and resist the urge to hilt balls deep in her—as much as you adore the feeling of her around you, you don’t want to break her. Ruan Mei trembles beneath you, her breathing coming in hiccuping gasps. You remain still for a moment, your tail swishing on the cold floor of her room in anticipation as you let her adjust to your size. 

“Aeons,” she manages finally, looking at you over her shoulder. There’s a slight glossy sheen at the corner of those turquoise eyes, and the sight makes your dick twitch. “Y-you—“

Your tail twitches at the mention of those beings, and you can’t help but snap your hips forward just an inch more in irritation. Ruan Mei moans and jerks forward on the bed, her trembling arms nearly giving out on her. Her cunt squeezes you like a vise, copious amounts of wetness dripping down her thighs. 

“You would invoke them while I’m the one inside you?” you sneer against her shoulder, sharp fangs scraping along milky white skin. “What an audacious little creature you are.”

“Y-yet you seem to be enjoying yourself,” the scientist shoots back, one hand fumbling upwards to grasp back at the curve of one of your horns. You growl at that, the touch sending a bolt of electricity down your spine. Your hand at her hip travels lower, grazing over her belly and the prominent bulge your cock makes in her. 

Such audacity. A mere mortal, but so willing to do anything it takes for her own wants. It was what drew you to her in the beginning—after all, you’re certain no other mortal in the universe would find a dormant Leviathan and have the balls to ask them to be their test subject. 

“But you are too, aren’t you?” you hum, sinking another inch into her and forcing a long, drawn-out moan from her lips. “This cute cunt is clenching so much—you like this, being stretched and fucked out on my cock.” 

A muffled curse spills from her mouth as you start to slowly rock your hips back and forth. The squelching sounds of your cock moving in her dripping pussy echo in the room, drops of wetness spilling down her legs and staining the sheets. Ruan Mei makes a breathless, whiny noise with each thrust as your cock kisses her cervix, its sheer girth ensuring that you hit that perfect spot in her every damn time. 

“Shall I cum inside you, little flower?” you hiss against her skin, pressing love bites along the ridge of her shoulder blades and down her spine. “Over and over until a lifeform takes root inside you?” 

You grunt as you feel her tighten even more around you somehow, her thighs starting to shake as her orgasm starts to crest. Your words are an empty promise—Ruan Mei has been drinking a special contraceptive tea ever since your… arrangement began—but evidently they appear to have a very desirable effect on her. Your lips part in a wolfish grin as you tuck that little nugget of information away for later. 

A light press on her upper back has her arms giving out beneath her, leaving her face down and ass up on the bed, her back arching so beautifully you can’t help the approving rumble that resonates in your chest. The new angle has you hitting deeper inside her and Ruan Mei sobs in pleasure, her fingers grasping the sheets for dear life. 

“Scream my name, little thing,” you coo at her, voice deceptively tender as your hips snap ruthlessly. “Let me hear you scream for me.”

And she does, magnificently, her hand gripping your horn tightly as she howls your name into the sheets, streams of squirt gushing from her pussy. You snarl as she pulses around you, and with a few more thrusts you’re spilling into her, filling her cunt and her womb with thick ropes of cum. 

You give her a moment to catch her breath, her smaller frame shaking beneath yours as you lean back upright. She moans when you slip out of her with a slick pop, and your cum starts to trickle out of her used cunt. You purr at the sight, then manhandle her onto her back and take her ankles in one large hand to rest them on your shoulders. Your cock, still hard, presses against her ass and Ruan Mei’s breath hitches. 

“What are you doing?” she asks hoarsely, but makes no move to stop you. 

You grin down at her, all teeth, as you recite a little something you’ve learned from spending time as Ruan Mei’s willing lab Leviathan and you relish the way her lips part and her eyes blow wide in barely concealed desire. 

“Don’t you recall, scientist? Repetitions are necessary for good results.” 

[l0v3tast3]

Ok but older perv bf ghost would be such a menace like he would destroy your cunt in his back seat and then shake ur dads hand.( these older bf hcs make me go feral bb)

anon you are so right. he'll be so mean but like it's literally his fault that he's hot asf and u just wanna jump on him 24/7 ??? anyways tysm for the request and the kind words i hope you enjoy this anon !! ◝(⁰▿⁰)◜

✎ tags: mdni! nsft, f!reader, age gap (r is 20's, simon is late 30's), dumbification, conditioning (consensual), orgasm control, spanking, degradation/praise kink, overstimulation/edging, car s3x, size difference/kink, possessive!simon, c0ckwarming

✎ word count: 1.8k words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests are open!

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who wants to see you become absolutely brainless because of him. you're such a smart girl usually, among the top of your class at university, and simon just loves to see that whole façade crumble away. he knows a good fucking is just what you need to unwind from your classes, and he is more than happy to give it to you.

✧ ˖ ° seeing you go all dumb on his cock makes simon nearly giddy, the feeling of how you stop pushing at his abs and just take it once he bullies his dick in far enough to fill your brain with him instead of whatever you're studying, the sight of your eyes rolling back and your little hands weakly grabbing at whatever they can reach for some semblance of grounding yourself. you know just as well as simon does that it's useless; he makes damn sure that you have nowhere to run to when he has you in his hold.

✧ ˖ ° another thing he makes sure of is that you steadily become the one to come onto him first. simon wants you to be his own little nymphomaniac, addicted to his cock, to him. it all works towards melting your brain quicker and quicker each time. there's a certain dedication he puts towards it- even by the time he was done with you the first time you slept together, he's planning it out, figuring out which muscles to press into to get you to mewl for him, just the right angle to pound his dick into you, how much you can take before he starts seeing dew drops collecting on your waterline.

✧ ˖ ° even outside of the bedroom (or kitchen, or living room, wherever he has yet to christen next in his house) simon's working on it. he'll give you so many hoodies, jackets, boxers, anything that smells like him that you want, and then he tells you that if you're going to touch yourself without him that you better be at least wearing his clothes while you do it. eventually you'll get to the point where you can't get off without the thought of him, without his scent, then without him. there's no doubt either that whenever you do get worked up without him, simon makes sure that you always tell him. text him, call him, send a damn carrier pigeon with a letter, he doesn't care, but he's going to guide you through every orgasm you have.

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who can get to be a mean dom. he loves punishing you for whatever reason he can find, especially when you touch yourself without telling him. simon is an experienced special ops soldier who's used his hands to torture people as much as he's used them to pleasure you, so he has not a single problem with knowing how to get the truth out of you. obviously he doesn't torture you, though (not in a way you don't like).

✧ ˖ ° if it's been a long stretch of time where you haven't been able to see each other, he'll pull you onto his lap and start out all soft. he'll run his hands all over you, move his lips against yours sweet and slow, whisper about how much he missed his pretty little girl. he'll listen with a happy hum while you tell him how much you missed him, how much you need him. he'll guide your hips lightly when you can't help but start grinding against his thigh, hands pushing up your skirt to see which pair of underwear he gets to rip apart this time. and then he'll ask you how much you missed him.

✧ ˖ ° from the start you know the question is a double-edged sword, but you always answer truthfully. it only took you one lesson to learn that simon knows when you lie to him (he didn't let you cum for three days while he kept you at his house the entire time). he always appreciates the truth, praises you for being such a good girl for him when you honestly tell him that you only touched yourself during the short phone calls he was allowed while he was away. there's a little part of him that's always a bit disappointed though, the same part that turns into glee when you sheepishly admit that you couldn't wait for him.

✧ ˖ ° simon's always a bit too quick at flipping you over so your laying face-down over his thighs. one hand wraps around your neck to pull you up and arch your back, the other flipping up your skirt and grabbing roughly at your squishy ass. "couldn't fuckin' wait f'me, huh? y'so desperate for cock that y'can't follow simple orders? thought i already taught ya how to be patient," he spits, letting you fall back against the couch so his hand can move down to plant itself across your back. that's when he starts, not even waiting for you to try to apologize meekly or defend yourself. slaps that leave bruises you'll be feeling for days rain down across your ass and simon makes you count each one. if you lose count or stop, he'll push open your legs to smack your cunt and start all over. simon doesn't let up until you're sniffling and whining and your underwear is soaked through (which of course he makes fun of you for).

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who really is an absolute menace with you. he dangles your pleasure over your head like something he grabbed for you out of the cabinets, keeping it just out of your reach until he decides to give it to you. there won't ever be a moment where simon doesn't have most, if not all of the control. there's something about having that command over you, feeling you hand over your trust, your body and mind to him that's addicting. so no matter how cruel he can get, he'll always make sure to ply you with as many orgasms as you can handle (and then some) to show his appreciation.

✧ ˖ ° his brutishness can come in the form of wanting to see just how messy he can get you to be. he'll bury his face and fingers into your cunt until there's a puddle forming underneath you, and when he's done there, simon stuffs you full with his cock and fucks you until your makeup is running with your tears and smearing across the sheets. he'll rip off the clothes that bar him from seeing your gorgeous body so that you have to wear something of his afterwards. and god help you if he wants to fuck in the backseat of his car before you both go someplace. which, (not) shockingly, is something he wants to do before he meets your parents.

✧ ˖ ° with the car parked not too far from your parents house in some spot where people won't think to give the tinted windows a second look, he'll have you working your way down on his cock. every time you whine about how you're going to be late, they're going to know, they won't be happy, simon gives your ass a sharp slap and snaps his hips up into yours. "would y'rather i fuck you in your room while they're home? don't think you can keep quiet enough for that," he mocks, his tone condescending despite the fact that he's already planning on doing just that at some point.

✧ ˖ ° once you're practically limp against his body, letting him use you like his personal toy, he'll finally cum. you finish with him, your third orgasm in less than an hour, as he buries his cock to the hilt inside you and grinds his hips up. once you're semi-conscious again he helps you put on your underwear and pants and gives you his hoodie. and after you've taken off your ruined makeup and redid at least some of it, you'll drive the remaining minute to your parents house, where simon seems to know just how to get them to love him. meanwhile, you'll be shifting in your seat next to him while his cum creates a stain on your jeans.

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who wants you to be with him basically 24/7 while he's not away on missions. you're his girlfriend, of course he wants to spend as much time as he can with you! never mind the fact that this man has probably been boxing away his libido for years. so while he's at his home, so will you be.

✧ ˖ ° you'll find that any clothes you bring over to your stays with simon don't really go missing as much as he blatantly makes them unwearable for you as long as you insist on still bringing them. why would you have any need for those when he has plenty for you? it's not like you'll be wearing clothes much anyway while he has you. it's a lesson you learn quickly to pack light, otherwise you'll be going home with scraps of fabric. simon doesn't not like your clothes (he thinks your style is adorable on you), but the way you smell like him with his hoodies and shirts, the way they're basically dresses on you serving to remind how much bigger he is than you, it drives him even crazier.

✧ ˖ ° because of how touch-starved (and horny) he is, simon prefers to always physically have you close to him. which means lots of cockwarming; he won't lie about how much he loves watching you try your very best not to squirm on his lap, not to lose yourself to how full you always feel with him inside you. whether you're watching a movie or he's working in his office or even just trying to sit down for a meal, simon will preemptively have you sinking down on his cock, chastising you about how eager you always are for him to just fuck you. it's nearly torture for him just the same as you, but the difference is that he has a lot more self-control than you do- just enough to give your thigh a stinging pinch every time you move a muscle.

✧ ˖ ° no matter how long he keeps you there, it'll always turn into simon pushing you against the nearest table or wall and fucking away the last few straggling thoughts in your head. he always waits until your breathing gets ragged and your nails are digging in hard. until you're panting against his neck from the effort it takes to not bounce yourself on his dick. until you're begging. "what? turned y'into that much of a whore that y'can't go five minutes without my cock? fine." he'll say it as if he's doing you a favor, as if he's going out of his way to satisfy the nymphomaniac that he himself has proudly created.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Creepypasta/Marble Hornets X Reader with A Small/Flat Chested F!Reader

[Warnings: NSFT/smut, size kink mention, praise, body worship, breeding kink, MINORS DNI]

[AN: sometimes I find you guys out in the wild (and what’s crazier is I get recognized sometimes??) and I go :0 in a good way!! Anyways here’s this lol. Made it while drinking canned bubble tea. Enjoy, for all my small titty goddesses]

Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jeff the Killer

Gods he’s so feral about small tits. And I mean FERAL. He has no eyelids so of course he’s going to stare. Loves seeing your nipples, clothed or not. Prefers when you don’t wear a bra in colder weather just so he can gawk at you and how they perk up.

He’s always cupping and rubbing them. When he’s able, he’s sucking on them. The way he loved your tits is raunchy and wild. Always making lewd comments about how hot you are how he loves how well you fit in his hands, how your skin is so soft and you squish just right for him.

Jeff obviously loves all parts of you, but whenever he sees you wearing a top that’s a little too thin and a little too tight and he can see the outline of your breasts, he finds himself drooling. He can TRY to be professional but good luck, his gaze always gives it away.

His kind of love for you is aggressive and possessive. If you EVER show any doubts, he’ll take offense. “Who the fuck are you to question my good fucking taste?” He doesn’t like you doubting him because how dare you? He sees your beauty, both inside and out, so why can’t you?

He’s going to show you off every chance he gets. Comes with the territory of dating him lol. He loves when people look at you but can’t touch, because you belong to him and him alone. No one else, just his. He doesn’t want to treat you like an object! You aren’t, but gods you have a gifts in your life and one is your body, don’t be shy. All that said, he loves you, truly and genuinely. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Eyeless Jack

Size kink. Huge. Huge size kink. He loves that he’s so much bigger than you in every way possible, and something about your tits fitting into his large hands, engulfed by his clawed palm make him melt. He purrs whenever he sees you changing and you let him lovingly gaze upon your body.

I’ve always felt Jack is into art, and sketches a lot in his free time. His art is mostly based on his medical knowledge, studying anatomy and whatnot, but he draws your breasts any chance he can get. And it’s not always in a sexualized way, but a very artistic focus. You, slowly waking up and gazing out the window, a warm drink in your hands as the sheets cascade over your body… and you’re nude.

He loves you without clothes on. With clothes on, however? If you wear any necklaces or whatnot, he melts because he thinks they fall between your breasts so elegantly. Everything about you is perfect to him.

Jack goes through heats, of course, and when he goes through them, he spends special attention on your tits. Lots of bite marks, especially when he’s sucking on your perfect nipples.

He’s got a habit of sitting you down on his lap while he’s doing work and playing with your breasts like a stress toy. Or just,,, playing with them because he can. Your body is his and his alone. He says you’re perfect to him, so you better believe it. If not, don’t worry, Jack is surprisingly good at talking through more sensitive topics without overriding your feelings. He’ll always take care of you.

Tobias Rogers

He’s just like Jeff in terms of being raunchy. He prefers you to wear skimpier, form fitting clothes just to show your body off to the world. When he’s out in public with you, he likes you to be the candy on his arm. Thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous, and the way your tits sit on your chest contribute a great deal to that.

If you have nipple piercings? Lord help you, Toby can’t keep himself off of you. Not even when he tries, he’s just so into you. The moment you take your shirt off and show them to him, he’s drooling and fucking you into the floor, folding you like a lawn chair so he can watch your breasts bounce a bit as he drives you into the floor.

Toby doesn’t actually like the necklaces too much. Not the long ones. Not only do they get in the way of sex, but he likes chokers and shorter chains better. He’s kinda particular like that. Sometimes, he’ll playfully complain whenever you wear baggier clothes and hoodies (he never means it, he wants you to be comfortable).

Toby is also a huge fan of you not wearing a bra so he can gawk at you. But!! If you do fancy wearing bras, he’s especially into the cute ones that are clearly meant for adult activity. Seeing you in lingerie makes his caveman brain warp into hyperdrive.

He does understand the shadowy sides of you though. He’s dealt with body image issues himself, specifically his face. But, he’s grown confident in who he is. He won’t ever push toxic positivity on you, but he won’t let you say awful things about yourself. He says it hurts his feelings, because how could you talk so poorly about yourself when he loves you so deeply? It actually messes him up.

Masky/Tim Wright

Masky loves you so boldly. Your body really sparks some protective nature or something in his head. When he first saw your breasts once your clothes came off, all he could think about was how sweet you must taste and how soft you must be to squeeze. He wants you all to himself, your body is his to enjoy as much as he is yours to enjoy. It’s usually him somehow giving pep talks, but he’s an aggressive supporter. Loves you, refuses to let you speak like that about yourself.

Tim however, Tim is a little cuter about it. Make no mistake, he’s still a pervert but it’s sweeter, somehow. Tim loves to worship every bit of you, showing attention to your breasts because they’re his favorite part of you. He finds himself staring, blushes and tries to shake himself back into focus but can’t. Really, he can be such a nerd at times. Doesn’t mean to, but look at him. Look at him and tell me he isn’t.

There’s hickies all over your body when he’s done with you. Hickies all over your breasts and sometimes, he’ll form them in a heart because that’s cute. His large, calloused hands love how soft and small you are as he squeezes and cups. LOVES to fuck in positions that let him see your breasts, as that’s what he’s focused on outside of the way your eyes roll upwards when he pushes in extra deep.

He LOVES seeing you all dressed up but also really loves whenever you’re all comfortable. Either way, he’ll make cheesy jokes like “your clothes look better in my floor ;)” so be prepared for a lot of cheesy, horny jokes. Or if you say “my eyes are up here??” He’ll keep honing in on your tits. That’s just the kind of man he is.

Some of his favorite moments with you are the kinds where you’re all curled up in bed together, spooning and his hands are able to roam your body. He often falls asleep holding your breasts, hand spread out over them and squeezing you to his chest like you’re his squishy toy. He often falls asleep better this way! If you’re not in the mood to be bear hugged to sleep, he’ll still keep a hand resting on your chest or hips somehow.

Hoodie/Brian Thomas

Hoodie is a very silent, down to business kind of proxy. Deeply cocky and self assured, maybe a bit too hot headed. When it comes to you, he knows his taste and what he’d choose and he chose well. Whenever he sees you all dolled up, he’ll bend you over just to have his way with you before you have to go. Hoodie’s gloved hand squeeze at your tits every chance he gets before he pulls them off so his fingers can play with your nipples with no barrier in between.

Brian’s a southern gentleman. This does not apply to how he worships your body. He’s FERAL for your body and will try to get you pregnant any chance he can. There’s times you’ll come out of the shower and drop the towel, he sees your nipples, the curve of your breasts, and he’s on you, mating press, trying to get you pregnant. He can’t help himself when you look that sexy.

He’s also really fond of holding your breasts in any way he can. Makes him happy just to touch you. Cuddle? Grab titty. Doing anything on the computer? Grab titty. Has no restraint, and in the safety of your home? He doesn’t care (unless you’re overstimulated or don’t want to, of course). He’s HUGE on physical touch. Everything from your ass, your thighs, your arms, titties, everything.

Also really weak for lingerie. Wearing something sexy and lacy, maybe has his name on the waist band and he’ll fold for you. He’s really, really fond of the bras that let him have access to your nipples. He’ll squeeze your breasts as he bends your legs upwards, then press chest to chest with you to feel your heartbeat as your soft breasts bounce against him. He’s weak.

Maybe it’s just the vibe I get, but he somehow manages to make you feel really at peace with yourself, and if you aren’t, then he’s always there to let you vent and reassure you that he loves you and PREFERS YOU the way you are! Nothing about you needs to change or be bigger. He prefers your body the way you are now, and by the way he’s always staring? You’ve never a reason to doubt him.

Bonus Kate the Chaser!

She’s no better than a man with the way she stares at your tits. She’s pretty muscular and I write her as really tall now, so she LOVES how your titties fit in her hands. There are moments she will squeeze with her hands and then press her face into them, not caring if she suffocates. Kate stares so boldly. And then when she’s eating you out, her tongue buried deep in your pussy, all she can focus on is how beautiful you look. Your chest is rising and falling and your nipples are hard, and when you’re on your back she can see the little shivers. If you’re riding her face, she’s melting at the curve of your breasts, the gentle slopes that make them, and making little grabby hands to reach and play with them. When is she not playing with your breasts? Kate sometimes wears lipstick (a rarity) and covers your breasts in her kisses just to reaffirm to you how beautiful you are and how much she loves this part of your body. Make no mistake, she’s still lining your body with hickies and bite marks, but your neck, collar and titties especially. She can probably cum from just seeing you.

[yanderefarm]

yandere crime lord introduction

cw;; torture, violence, yandere things, nsft

he's finally here. please feast your eyes on him. pretty boy. im amazed at how the three of them really do look like brothers. i was having a really hard time with his hair when i finally to give him curly hair like his brother and its such a good choice. ajax has some curl to his hair too so they all look related.

achilles is the eldest brother of ares and ajax. he's 35 years old.

he has a nicotine addiction and he goes through a pack a week. quitting is more stressful than it's worth so he hasn't tried.

he stays in touch with his brothers. ares more so because ares calls him to hide bodies frequently.

he isn't head of the family yet, he works right under his father and he has a lot of the same power and responsibilities.

he hates violence and as a young boy he was even more soft spoken and didn't want to hurt anyone. now he has no choice and that adds to his stress.

his whole life he's been compared to ares because he's so much softer than his more aggressive brother. this caused him to really develop a complex where he's always thinking about how much better ares would be at everything he tries and then he starts to stress that people will realize that he's just faking being tough and masculine.

he's known since he was young that he likes men but he doesn't want to risk anymore more evidence against him.

he doesn't have time for relationships or a personal life. his routine is basically work, stress, eat, sleep.

this only changes when he's with you. suddenly he doesn't have to stop and remember to eat. he doesn't have to hurt anyone or be threatening. there's no fear of being exposed with you.

his routine with you is torture, eat, get taken care of, sleep.

at first it was horrible, of course it would be. he spent every day just praying he survived. but one day you weren't torturing him, instead you just let him sit in the same room as you.

for the first time he didn't have to be scared or worry about survival and he was certain all his stress would come back to him. but he realized there was no point in stressing; you would kill him sooner rather than later so he could just comfortably be himself.

he started to get closer to you then forming some kind of strange domesticity. he even found himself enjoying the pain, the horrible pain you would inflict would empty his mind of everything but you.

and then you would patch and clean his wounds so gently. you would always tell him when it was about to sting like you hadn't been putting out cigarettes on his chest an hour ago.

he fell in love with you in the 2 and a half months he spent as your captive. it was nice to love someone so deeply before he died.

and then you told him he could leave. he was confused, upset, confused why he was upset. he wondered if maybe you had found out that your victim had developed a sick affection for you and you were so disgusted with him.

he never understood his younger brother's feelings and possessiveness towards everything. he didn't understand how his brother could claim to love something so deeply that he feels compelled to break it. but when you told him he could go he suddenly understood everything.

it was like something in his mind finally clicked into place and he knew he couldn't let you throw him away. he knew he didn't have any power over you but if he could find something you wanted he could force you to let him stay.

he eventually becomes a pay pig for you. he knows that you're willing to do extreme things for money but he usually just pays to go on dates or for kisses.

he calls you a lot whenever work becomes overwhelming. if you don't answer the phone he'll light up a cigarette instead.

everyone thinks he has a girlfriend and he's some dominant guy who's suddenly whipped for a pretty little girl. they don't know he's the wife.

he loves mascot characters. he really loves cute or ugly cute things. he has a cute phone charm he got from ares and it's the only cute thing he allows himself to own. he can use it being his brother's gift as a good excuse to keep it.

ares knows his real personality while ajax still thinks he's a cool stoic older brother

he is very stoic and he can come off pretty intimidating. he'll accidentally glare at people sometimes because he's just lost in thought and worrying about something.

he only smiles when he's with you. whether you're out on a date or he's getting sewn up he'll have a soft little smile on his face.

if you ever tried to abandon him he would use every resource at his disposal to find you. even if he has to be the one to lock you up he won't let you leave.

he's surprisingly clingy in public. he doesn't do much pda but he'll hold your hand the whole time. if anyone looks at you he'll squeeze your hand and pull you a little closer to himself.

surprisingly it actually takes him a little bit to come around to the idea of bringing sex into things. even longer to convince him that he'd probably enjoy sex more if there was a pain aspect.

now he gets turned on as soon as you press that piece of duct tape over his mouth. he's a complete degenerate.

he loves being degraded. nothing is more exciting than when he calls you at work stressed out and you mock his whole crime lord attitude.

never worry about being too mean to him. he will beg you to make him cry.

he got the family sex = love belief. however because of his work with prostitutes he finds love to be cheap. he didn't think he would ever fall in love until his obsession with you formed.

he also inherited the family forced fem kink. he particularly likes to wear frilly lingerie under his suits while at work. he always sends you a picture of his underwear in the morning.

he over hears someone talking about how much they love calling their wife, wife. so he asks you to call him wife once and it immediately gets him hard. he's a blushing mess about it. .

quiet in bed. when hes not screaming in pain. he just gasps and whimpers at your touch.

he has a desperate need to praise you. like a praise kink but on the giving side. he wants to kiss every inch of your skin and tell you how grateful he is for you.

he doesn't say i love you a lot but when he does it's during sex. especially after edging him.

any kinks you want to try on him he is down to do at least once.