#only thing I have control over atm is my writing

[lucithornz]

car accident? Luci what happened!

Oh yeah I guess not everyone saw my post at the time XD (it was literally less than 2 days before xmas )

I was hit by a semi truck tyre on the highway and it totaled my car. Which has been stressful bc 1. I did come very close to probably being killed 2. I need a car and haven't had that for almost 2 weeks now 3. my brain just like shut down on me on and off that first week. So I have been trying to take it easy on creative projects and stick to smaller manageable things until I get one thing sorted.

I am okay physically, was very lucky in the way I got hit. Everything else is a mess at the moment.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Lessons in Love.

Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 3615

Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x

Masterlist. Requests.

“No way. How is that even possible?”

You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.

“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.

“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”

The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.

You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.

Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.

A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.

“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”

Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.

You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.

You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.

　            ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.

The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.

Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.

And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.

Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.

He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.

“Hi.”

Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.

“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.

“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”

You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.

It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.

You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.

He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.

“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.

“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.

“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.

You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.

You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.

“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.

“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.

“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”

You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.

“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.

“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.

Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?

He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.

He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.

“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”

Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.

“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.

He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.

At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.

Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.

“Bucky,” he murmurs.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.

“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.

“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”

You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.

You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.

“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.

“There’s more than one kind of milk?”

Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.

“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”

He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.

“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”

She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.

You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.

“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.

“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”

No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.

Instead, he answers cautiously.

“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.

“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.

Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.

“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.

You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.

Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.

“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.

“What, me?” you tease.

“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.

“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.

“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.

“Why don’t we do it together?”

A pause. He’s confused again.

“Do what together?”

“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”

It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.

You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.

“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”

Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.

“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.

“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”

He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.

You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.

“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”

He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.

“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.

　            ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.

Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.

“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.

You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”

He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.

You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.

Underneath your name, only one thing is written.

I love you.

You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,

“You do?”

That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.

“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”

You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.

“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.

“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.

He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?

You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.

He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.

Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –

“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”

I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

https://www.tumblr.com/yoru-no-seiiki/751614308271718400/hii-so-like-ive-been-starving-for-yandere-eren

def something w/ canon eren! but other than that you can could go as wild as u want! :p

god where do i start?? i’ll mostly write for early seasons eren since i refuse to watch the whole thing until i’m done with season one on my quotev book as a motivator but i’ll add some tidbits that i got from other fanfics. go check it (my book) out btw!! it’s called Walk With Me!! (currently on the next chapter which is around 10k words atm huhu)

as always he’s aged up to 18 during enlistment and massive spoilers for those that don’t know the lore/story yet.

MDNI. DDDNE!!

yandere! eren is a force of absolute willpower. he is obsessive, he is protective, and very much goddamn possessive. he needs you, he needs you to need him too if not moreso. he grew up in a very traditional household and expected to be the provider in the family. the least you could do is have him in your thoughts at all times.

if you want max yandere! potential with him, it’s best to have known him even before armin. be close family friends. maybe your parents worked with his dad since marley and were similarly banished (but not turned into mindless titans).

as children he’d always been protective of you. he’d always stick to you like glue. and because of future him’s influence over grisha and essentially your parents, you were arranged to even sleep in the same bed.

but this sort of backfired in the long run cause you saw him as this annoying brother figure that just wouldn’t stop bothering you.

and one day you just blurt out, tired of the suffocation you felt with your friend, with your parents that vehemently kept pushing you two together, of everything in your life that you couldn’t control.

“i wonder what it’s like beyond the walls.”

i feel like armin would still be the true trigger of eren’s obsession with the outside and freedom (after all, he doesn’t give a shit about yours so why and how would you influence him in that area?), but you probably pushed him in terms of the survey corps.

you were dumb at the time. i mean as a kid, who isn’t? so you announced to literally everyone you knew that you planned to join the military and eventually explore the outside world.

you didn’t really understand the concept of death and all but whatever that was, you still thought it would be better than eren’s basically isolating you from anything that moves.

you dont truly understand death until eren kills those intruders in mikasa’s house right in front of you.

you were supposed to help him, but only stood there frozen in fear.

thankfully mikasa awakened just in time, with eren shouting at her to save you.

speaking of mikasa, her true allegiance/ackerman blood thingy is still with eren in this fic but i headcannon that since his first command was to for her to fight for you she also has the same knee jerk reaction for whenever she perceives you’re being harmed.

in anycase, that day ™️ happens and you all start training.

it had already been obvious since you were teens but eren started looking at you from a different angle. the sexual kind.

your lack of contact with other people due to his influence had made you a bit of a pushover, as such he’d often coerce you into sex or other related acts.

i mean, you had to pity him! he never had the opportunity to explore and act on his urges. mans stayed a virgin til he enlisted and he’s pent up. you try to argue that it’s cause he was so hung up on revenge that he’s bitchless but that only leads to him questioning you if you’ve been seeing other people behind his back.

i mean you two were basically together, why would he see other people? don’t tell him that you’ve been … cheating on him? how could you!

so yeah he does the same thing to mikasa (the manipulation not the sex lol) and forces her to guard the two of you during your ‘trysts’ (which is just him, the inexperienced boy rutting into you and getting off while you stood/laid there uncomfortable silence)in addition to basically shutting down whatever feelings she might have brewing for him (poor mikasa dude)

but surprisingly eren is the most lax to you during this time period. despite the literal r*pe, he basically allowed you to roam around and do whatever for a change. frankly, it was mostly cause he had to catch up in terms of training, but also cause his FREEDOM ideal is the strongest during this phase.

anddd depending on your behavior you might get pimped out. only to those that he can trust though. god even jean got a taste of you because he lost a bet. he promptly beats up the man afterwards though.

if you’re more focused on training and acquiesce to his demands (hormones) however you’ll be enjoying the only three years of your life where eren’s presence wasn’t looming like dread of your death by a titan’s hands.

now i can’t vouch for how accurate i can portray later seasons eren but basically he’s the worst in yan levels at that point.

once he can fully utilize his powers there is literally no escape for you, not even his death, unless you have some sort of power that hides your ass. he’d already prepared for everything from your captivity to how your life will be like after his inevitable demise.

like i said before, he’d be the type to give you an illusion of freedom. he hates the idea of being caged and vice versa. so specifically speaking after his death and the end of the series, you’ll go from being stuck in a remote area to being free but with hundreds of armed guards watching your every move. hell maybe even the whole “town/village/city” you live in will all just be paid actors he had staged. he will never let you move on from him. whether you like it or not, you’re his in life, in death, as he is dying, and beyond that.

[yuujispinkhair]

cant stop thinking about sukuna treating me so good while on my period…. 🤭🤭

Awww your boyfriend Kuna will make sure you feel better ♥️

Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + some mentions of smut Word count: 500 Warnings: 18+, reader is menstruating, small mention of blood, period sex if you want (only as an option), making out. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Modern boyfie!Sukuna cannot stand the thought of having no control over this thing that causes you pain and puts you through an emotional rollercoaster every damn month. He is so worried when he sees you burst into tears over the smallest things. The only tears he wants to see on you are those of joy when he says something sweet to you or brings you roses or when he has you on his cock, and the tears spill over because it feels so good. It is unacceptable that your period makes you feel so bad!

And so your boyfie Sukuna does anything he can to make you as comfortable as possible. You are his princess, so you will also get treated like one!

"Why are you getting ready for work? Come on, princess, stop doing all that shit and lie down!"

"But I have so much to do, Kuna!"

"No, you aren't going anywhere today. Fuck work! I will write an e-mail to them saying you are sick!"

You have to admit that he is pretty cute when he is so indignant. And it makes you feel so loved to see this protective side of Sukuna. You aren't immune to the warmth spreading through you when you see the unveiled worry in his maroon eyes. And those strong tattooed arms wrapping around you and hugging you to Sukuna's tall and very warm and comfy body are very convincing, too.

Of course, you stay at home. You slip out of your work clothes and put your sweatpants on again, smiling when Sukuna hands you one of his comfy hoodies.

He makes sure you take painkillers and that you rest on the bed. And Sukuna is right next to you. One of his large hands is on your tummy the whole time, rubbing soothing circles on it.

He picks your fave show to re-watch with you and brings you sweets and cooks for you. He is so caring that you can't help but fall even more in love with him. Especially when you see his boyish grin when he is like,

"See? It was a good idea to stay home and let me look after you. Sukuna 1, stupid period 0."

And then Sukuna kisses your neck, being a tease once again, running his pierced tongue slowly over your sensitive skin, licking you, kissing you, sucking on your pulse point until he has you squirming needily and your hand lands in his soft pink hair to pull him into a deep kiss.

A long makeout session with Sukuna is the perfect way to forget about your cramps. His tall, muscular body lies half on top of you, warm and comforting. And his tongue in your mouth feels so good that it makes your head spin.

And if you need more, Sukuna is very willing to give it to you. He isn't squeamish about the blood or about periods in general. If his princess feels better with his cock in her aching pussy, he will make sure to have you on his cock for hours, trying to fuck your pain away.

But whether you want sex or not, what Sukuna will definitely provide to you are cuddles. He is softer than usual, sweeter. Holds you even tighter than on other occasions, snuggling against you like the world's biggest heating pad. Your back is pressed to his chest while Sukuna's muscular tattooed arms are wrapped around you, one hand rubbing your belly and the other holding yours, making you feel warm and taken care of.

You can't stop smiling when Sukuna murmurs sweet nothings in your ear. That sexy, low voice laced with so much affection. There is still some of his usual teasing, but always followed up by a sweet "I love you, princess." Not wanting to risk another emotional outburst and instead just make you feel loved and taken care of.

I hope this could make you feel better if you are on your period atm <3<3 Kuna being so adamant about making you feel better and "win" against this menstruation thing is so funny to me aahahhaa I love him so much!!

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments would be very sweet <3

[dilfguzzler]

john price nsfw headcanons!

i'm currently hyperfixated on john price and want to write more for him. i always like to do an nsfw alphabet to get a feel for the character in my little bird brain

enjoy! open to requests (price and ghost only atm)

f!reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his form of aftercare is definitely quality time. he will have just obliterated you, your mind is in outer fucking space. he'll pull you on top of him, not even cleaning you up yet, just wanting to give you time to come back to yourself.

sometimes the feelings are so much and you'll be crying, just feeling the feels and he'll stroke your back, murmuring how good you were for him, how you're his best girl. once you're fully back to your right mind, he'll get you some water, clean you up and cuddle you until you have a sleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

john price is an ass man. nothing else to be said.

he likes his hands. out in the field they cause damage and destruction. but they also keep you safe. they're also the hands that can make you scream and cry in pleasure. he also knows that you have a slight hand kink, so that's a bonus.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

INSIDE. the only time mr. breeding kink will ever not cum in your cunt is if he's coming in your mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wants to share you. wants to watch you be fucked by his boys while he watches. wants to place you in any position he wants like he's conducting his own porn shoot. he doesn't know if his possessive streak would ever actually let this happen though.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

this man has been around. hoowee he knows exactly what he's doing, knows things about your body that you didn't even now

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

honestly, he's up for pretty much anything. he likes to be in control so even if you're riding him, be sure he's the one really in control.

he loves missionary, seeing your face, and command you to keep your eyes open and on him. he can get some real power behind his thrusts in missionary too, so much that you're limping a bit for a few days after.

also, doggy. see B, ass-man

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

definitely more serious. like he might crack a dry-ass dad joke, but he takes his fucking seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

this man is HAIRY. he keeps it under control but he's a very hairy dude

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this one is a tricky one because i definitely think he has two sides.

one side is the feral, dominant man who just wants to FUCK.

the other is this old-fashioned guy, definitely still dominant, who wants to be romantic and charm the pants off you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

over his years in the army and the SAS, he has gotten pretty close with his hand. the only difference now when he's away, he has some abso-fucking-lutely delightful polaroids of you. he particularly loves the ones you sneak into his pockets before he leaves. those are always a nice surprise.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

this man is a kinky old boy. as mentioned before he is mr. breeding kink. defo daddy kink vibes although i cant decide if he likes to be called daddy or sir more. i think he has certain moods for each.

like sometimes he's in the mood to wreck you and wants your total obedience, this is when he likes to be sir.

sometimes he feels a little bit softer and wants you to be his good girl, and is willing to allow you a little bit of leeway and let you mess around a bit more or whatever

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he's a traditional guy. he likes to take you in bed as it's easiest (and god, does he hate to admit it, but his back can't really take anywhere else anymore)

he loves to take you soft and slow on the couch though.

oh, and he'll never forget you sitting on his lap for 2 hours straight, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. he was so proud of you for your minimal squirming and whining.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

simply, you. you literally just wake up in the morning beside him and he wants to fuck you into the middle of next week.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don't think he'd ever want to hurt you. like he's not against a bit of slapping, bruising you and being rough but he's always very controlled and knows what he's doing. he would never want to genuinely, seriously hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he's a certified pussy eater, i know it. the beard adds so much. but when he eats you out, he's running on his time, he won't stop after one, two, three times. he goes until his jaw hurts.

and while he loves eating you out. fuck it if he doesn't love your mouth on his cock. sometimes he'll just leave you there while he watches the match and smokes a cigar. it's his favourite way to relax.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

as i said above, i think he definitely has two moods. so it depends

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he's a busy chap, so yeah he's up for quickies. it's not his favourite of course but sometimes he just needs to be inside you, and he'll take what he can get.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's up for experimenting. but he will never put your safety at risk. also, his job requires a certain level of discretion so he can't be doing anything that could jeopardise that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he hates to think about it, but he can't go like he could in his 20s. he can last ages but he needs a bit more time between rounds. but that doesn't mean there's no time for fun in while he's regrouping himself.

if he's feeling mean, he'll pull out your toy collection and use all sorts of fun stuff on you, not giving you a chance to recover

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

yes. you have a toy box full of all sorts of goodies. he loves scouring the internet looking for different things he can use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he does NOT like to be teased. but he will tease you omg.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's grunter lol. he'll say some nasty, sweet things to you.

although, you'll never forget the time you made him almost squeal when you did something with your hips while riding him. that was fun

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he's kind of a meanie sometimes and he's so glad you love it and love his grumpy side. he never thought he'd find someone he'd align with so well, not only sexually, but in every other way too.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.5in, uncut, thick but not too thick y'know, kind of curves upwards

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not as high as it once was. he loves to fuck but he's also 100% content to sit and watch some shite tv with you or watch you make dinner or some other domestic stuff

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

won't fall asleep until he knows you're happy and fully back to yourself. he's also gotten into the habit of needing a cigar after sex. he can't sleep until he ticks certain boxes

[scremogirl]

HEAR ME OUT PLS!... reader whos fine w casually/non casually/no romantic fucking... this prompt is sickening LITERALLY as long as reader gets birth control/condoms theyre ay-okay with it

(doesnt need 2 be added:D FIND WHAT U THINK SUITS UR WRITING ATM)

example js

reader scrolling on their phone while nerd is rearranging their guts

or

council president railing reader while theyre in a mating press on a chair

or

childhood friend who didnt even have to ask you to take care of their problem since middle school(?)

seems like NONCHALANT!Reader but this reader just doesnt care abt what they want and just cares for their friends...in their own way...Add whatever u like sosa!!!! <3

stawppp it.

(presents an AFAB reader)

Yandere! Nerd has been so pent up lately and never has time to relive his stress. With all the club meetings, preparing for college and the love of his life ignoring him, it's obvious he's got a lot on his plate. Therefore, when he finally has the time to let loose, there's no way he could bother with protection.

"Please, baby? I know how much you like it raw anyways. You're still on the pill right? oh what he hell, it's not like you care that much. You have been a little snippy with him lately so he deserves this much. The only problem with is that you can't be bothered with putting in that much effort. So here you are now laying flat on your stomach while Yandere! Nerd pounds your brains out.

"Ugh fuckkk angel, it feels so gooddd," his heavy breathing and the light blush on your cheeks make you clench around him harder. You make him pull out as you roll yourself over on your back. You grab your phone again as he shoves himself back in you. You angle your camera to where your hips meet, occasionally aiming it at his face. He cums so much that when he pulls out some of it lands in the camera lens.

!Ping!

Angel😇💕💍: 1 attachment

Angel😇💕💍: srry I can't be there tdy. cramps and what not.

enjoy this instead :p

When do you get off your period again?

Sigh. How's he supposed to work like this?

Yandere! Council president rubs his temples and lets out a deep sigh of frustration. The council is having an after school celebration along with some club members because of last weeks fundraiser.

They did well but someone needs to count all of the funds and there's no way he'll trust anyone else do it.

He stands from his chair opening the door, on his way to tell them to keep it down bug to his surprise your on the other side of the door.

"What're you doing here?"

"I go to school here," he sighs at your blunt behavior.

“Yes, I know that. I mean what are you doing at school after hours?" you held up a bag of food and he already knew what you were gonna say before you said it. He opens the door to let you in, relived that at least one thing can cheer him up.

"Besides." you continue

"I'm horny. I was gonna get a quick one out before I went back but then I remembered you were here. I can obviously see your not feeling well and Im in the mood for something rough: take it out on me,"

The chair bangs against the table as you legs are pressed against your head. Who knew you were this flexible? He'll have to keep that in mind for later, right now he's focused on shooting his load as deep as he can. The music outweighs your moans and isn't until you here a loud bang on the door that you stop.

"(Y/N)? You in there? We're about to start truth or dare. Julie's gonna dare Chris to jump ass naked into the school pool. You don't wanna miss it." says a voice from outside the door.

“I’ll - fuck I'll be out in a second. Ate to much, ugh dip y'know; a little full," and with that they leave.

Yandere! CP turns your face towards him with an animalistic sneer.

"The only thing you'll be full of is my cum."

Please take a plan B 🙏🏾

(You guys are seniors here!!!)

Everyone's masturabted before, let's be honest.

Curious minds wanting to feed their growing sexual appetite. So when Yandere! Childhood friend came to you about his little problem, it was your duty as his best friend to help.

"(Y/N) it hurtssss! Just look how red the tip is!" on queue it twitches and pulses under your gaze.

Jeez the guy has no shame does he? He grabs the base, stroking his hard cock under his strong palm. It didn't take you much conniving since you were already on your knees before him.

"Oh shit baby! Gonna let me pump it all down your throat? Ughh, gonna-gonna milk all of it outta me princess I swear,” he says between pants, continuing throat fuck you. His orgasm nears as he grabs the base of your neck and forces you down on him. Spit and cum dribbling down your child and into your chest. He paints your face and swipes his fingers on your face before forcing it back into your mouth. After you all cleaned, you stand to your knees After you all cleaned, you stand to your knees sitting on the couch turning on Lilo and Stitch.

"Make some popcorn for us will ya?"

You literally suck the soul outta him and then ask him to do something other than go another round; he’s gonna do it but damn 😭

[variousqueerthings]

so the thing is, back when i first watched s3 of elementary i was not a fan of joan coming to this moment of "oh maybe i should break up with my stable, attractive, nice, charming boyfriend" only for him to immediately die, because it felt like a cop-out -- that she'd almost come to some kind of moment in figuring herself out, but now she'd be regressing into "oh well, i can't have romantic relationships because it's dangerous, not because i don't want them," there will forever be a tinge of something in her relationship with andrew now, even though she was literally in the process of breaking up with him because it wasn't doing anything for her. a certain rose tint over what was actually happening, which was that she wasn't into the idea of the relationship, or indeed, any romantic relationship

however this time around i'm more into it, because this time i'm suuuuch a fan of the continuous push and pull of introspection and refusal to introspect that exist in both sherlock and joan -- getting the emotional truth out of either of them is like pulling fucking teeth!

the fact that the "aftermath episode" of her bf getting murdered in which joan is steadfastly refusing to Feel Her Feelings is the same episode as the sherlock-and-marcus excursion, in which marcus bell is telling sherlock over and over "call me marcus" and sherlock's grimace makes it clear that too much vulnerability feels like getting stabbed, something he's only allowed five times it seems:

two are with people who are locked up (jamie and abigail, although the latter has some serious extenuating circumstances)

one is dead (alistair, and even then i feel like alistair never knew how much he meant to sherlock)

one is on the run from the law atm (kitty, although i know she works that out)

and joan

(and arguably mycroft, but that's slightly different, they're siblings, being a sibling is smthinsmthin)

and even with them -- with the exception of joan and previously jamie -- he is oh so very careful about how much of himself he shows

it's such a fascinating double-up episode exploring their attitudes towards relationships (the fact that jamie makes a form of appearance and it's via writing a letter to joan!!!!) (also ofc sherlock calls him marcus by the end)

and now back to joan, who is ostensibly much more "adjusted" to living a conventional life, after all she's prepped for conventional since she was a kid! except she really isn't, is she? she's canonically trying to fulfill some assumed goal of normalcy (stated to be expected of her by her mother/upbringing), and she's fighting against it every step of the way. she doesn't do close friendships really (she tried, and she sucked at it until she started meeting people more like sherlock, and then it's a little closer to the way he does "friendships" that is, we create a wide network of people, but we don't have to know that much about each other beyond what we need to support one another), and she certainly doesn't do romance (or, she tries for a bit, but fails over and over) and the entire time she's insistently going "sherlock you need support to figure yourself out, you need some help to stay sober, if you want to talk..."

her whole Thing is that she's very polite and charming, so of course she's not like her standoffish abrasive partner, sherlock, she's the "Nomal One" who's so well-adjusted, except when this life forces her to make decisions beyond her control

and now going "well, i'm dangerous to get close to, so i may as well not try anymore" is another wonderful way to avoid thinking about what she wants. she doesn't have any choices you see, it's simply the way things have to be (oh noooo). anyway this interaction suddenly happens halfway through the episode:

joan: you know i pulled away from you last year because uh… i felt myself sucked into this world that you built. i wanted something normal. something that was mine. sherlock: there's nothing wrong with that. you have a right to your own space, physically and mentally joan: im not sure that i do. i don't think i can keep our work and my private life separate. it just doesn't seem possible. but you already know that, i mean it's part of the reason you life the way that you do sherlock: yes but my choices dont have to be your choices watson joan: it might be better if they were. andrew would have been better off

see, andrew would have been better off, that's what the problem was, suuuuuuure. girl you were in the middle of dumping him when he was murdered, stop avoiding the real issue here! you shouldn't not-be-dating because of The Work, you should be not dating because you... don't want to. you've got to admit that you like the world you were getting sucked into. do it!

(once she's made the change to wearing suits, we know she's started to sort herself out, it's coming, she'll get there)

end of the episode:

joan: i feel... ok. i feel clear about something: our work, what we do... it's not just a job now, it's who i am. i'm a detective, i'm ready to embrace that. i live in this world - your world - and i probably will for the rest of my life sherlock: it isn't my world. it's our world joan: i understand that now. i accept it, i know what it means sherlock: and what does it mean? joan: it means that... it's ridiculous for me to think that... i can have a normal life. i'm not gonna do that anymore.

joan i want to study you like a bug!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(but also, youknow, if it's getting her there, then let her think it's the detective work enacting upon her life like an unstoppable force that she must stop fighting and accept the inevitability of. youknow. that's an aromantic way of looking at things too. can't do romance, oh so unfortunate, but The Work!!!!!!!!!)

[silenthearts]

Say thank you.

Warnings⚠️: this fic is intended for adults only, no minors or profiles without age. This is smut smut smut, so you have been warned! 18+

This fic includes: Afab!reader, Oral (R! receiving), use of a strap, Ellie calls you angel, overstimulation, softdom!ellie, bottom!reader, p*rn no plot, Ellie calls herself sir , not proof read👌🏻🎉

This is just a little drabble and my first leap into writing smut but I couldn't get this out of my head so yeah 🤣

Ellie basks in the warmth of the glorious sunset that illuminates most of her flat. The sun illuminates her favorite things and one of those is you, sprawled over the couch as she draws shapes with her tongue over your sensitive vulva.

You sigh, and your legs twitch as you approach yet another orgasm. You've lost count of how many at this point. She sucks and toys with your clit and licks you up like a starved woman, making it unbearable on your sensitive nerves.

"I... I can't..." You say through ragged breaths and involuntary moans. Ellie smirks and brings her fingers to your entrance, not quite going in yet as she teases your wet hole.

"of course you can baby, you have just a few more to go" she adds as she pushes her index finger in and massages the spongy spot near the entrance. The one that makes your mouth open in a silent scream, the one that gives you a cold sensation in your stomach and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"I'm cumming" You moan loudly as the height of your orgasm washes over you , Ellie moans with you as she moves her fingers over and over the same spot and suckles on your clit.

You barely even register what is happening as you cum, clear liquid squirts out, over and over . You have no control as your body twitches and convulses. You shamefully try and fail, to bring your hips away from her expert fingers who continue their insistent assault. Your juices wash over the couch as well as all over her hand and face.

"Atta girl," she says followed by your moans as you slowly come down from it, your muscles still twitching involuntarily but all you can feel is your sweet girlfriend peppering kisses all over your hips and wet thighs.

"You're such a good girl, making a mess all over..." She smiled wickedly leaving a trail of love bites on your hips. She kisses your lips tenderly but ferociously. Sharing the juices of your orgasm with you. You moan her name against her mouth and without much of a warning, she lines her strap against your puffy and extremely sensitive vulva.

Rubbing the object up and down, making sure to rub your clit nice and hard against it. Your hips involuntarily buckle against the object.

"Ellie! I don't know if... I can go on anymore." You say out of breath, but instead, she brings her rough fingers and firmly grabs your chin, tilting your head up.

"Yes you can baby, you've made a mess everywhere, so now you're gonna have to make up for it." she smirks and without much of a warning, you feel the strap enter you. The fullness and hardness of it makes you gasp. She inserts in slowly and once it's all in she stops.

"Now say thank you, for all the times I've made you cum, angel" she moves in and out slowly and sensually. The sensation overwhelms you , and although you open your mouth to speak no words come out.

"Say it" she gives you a slap on the outside of your thigh and makes a quick move to rub your clit with the pad of her thumb.

"Say , Thank you sir" she insists, her movements becoming faster and more urgent.

"Thank... You... Sir" you moan, finding it hard to string a sentence together when you feel a hot sensation in your stomach again.

She lands a slap on your clit and suddenly you're seeing stars as another orgasm threatens to wash over you. She's panting "That's it baby, now cum for me again".

....

I'm working on another request atm! I'm really happy that people take their time to request stuff ! I'm just going over a lil bit of a block on that one but hopefully it will be out soon!

[thrawns-babygirl]

would you be comfortable writing pegging for crosshair? if so, uh 😳 something femdom like in your collared fic

if not, feel free to ignore. have a wonderful day!

Hey so uh I'm really sorry that this took so long. I have had a lot going on irl atm and tried my hardest to get this out for you within a reasonable timeframe.

Crosshair calls reader sir in this and i consider that entirely gender neutral because like, the clones call Ahsoka sir in the show so im still considering this femdom but its still relatively gender neutral despite the fact that it's afab reader.

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Pegging, sub!cross, pet names, cross calls reader 'sir' Word Count: 2000+

Masterlist

(I apologies in advance for the quality of this one I have never pegged anyone irl or written pegging before so like..... sorry lmao)

There was a single word in the entirety of Galactic Standard Basic for what Crosshair was being today.

A fucking menace.

He has been snarky, rude, mean, downright unbearable all day. He turned the scathing remarks up to eleven, he was being entirely insufferable. The rest of his squad had absolutely zero idea what came over him so when you turn around in medbay to see the entirety of Clone Force 99 standing there sans Crosshair you knew they were there with a single request.

Control your man.

You let out a sigh as Hunter explains he’s at the shooting range at the moment, blowing off some steam with direct orders not to return to the barracks unless he’s lost his maker forsaken attitude and to probably expect him in your quarters after you finish your shift.

While you and Crosshair had never exactly made an announcement or made anything official, the rest of the Batch weren’t oblivious to the fact the two of you had a relationship of sorts. Him disappearing all night and coming back to the barracks the next day with marks and bites on his neck that mirrored yours was a pretty big hint. They all agreed not to push him about it, he would talk about it in his own time, and they had never brought it up to you. Until now that is.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about his behaviour, you know as well as I do that when he’s in one of his moods only he can get himself out of it” you sign off a report, marking a group of cadets as medically fit for battle before turning to face the men in front of you.

“Nah you mellow him out big time” Wrecker states as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. You simply raise an eyebrow at the large man before turning to the others. They simply nod in agreement before Hunter speaks up again; “Look we don’t care what’s going on but he’s being an absolutely insufferable di’kut today, and I know it’s not your job to settle him down, but if you could, I don’t know, do something to help calm him down before he comes back to the barracks we would appreciate it” he’s rubbing his temples. Damn, maybe he has been worse than usual.

“He means sex!” Wrecker belts out. Earning a chiding “Don’t be so crass Wrecker” from Tech before he also looks at you “he is correct though” he adjusts his goggles, somewhat uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. You sign off on the rest of your reports before logging off your terminal for the day before gathering your things, looking up at the batch you let out a sigh, “I’ll do what I can but I have no promises that I’ll be able to do anything about him” you power down your terminal and move towards the door to your office, Hunter opening it and ushering his brothers through before throwing a thankful look in your direction and following his squad back towards their barracks.

Its two hours later that there is an alert at your door signalling that you have a visitor. You make your way over to the entrance to your modest quarters, lights turned low, clad in only a thin robe as your door slides open revealing Crosshair, still in his armour, 773 Firepuncher resting against his hip as he taps his foot impatiently against the floor before barging past you into your room.

“Well hello to you too Crosshair” you close the door and turn to face him, watching as he leans his precious rifle against the wall of your room and begins shedding his armour, dropping the hard plastoid haphazardly to the ground before he’s standing before you in just his blacks. “Single braincell sharing di’kuts locked me out of the barracks” he huffs before removing his boots and laying back on your bed.

You chuckle at that, if there was one thing Crosshair could do, it was be very creative with insults. Usually however they were being thrown at the regs, not his own squad. “Well from what I’ve heard you’ve been a little abrasive today Cross” you smile at him, sitting down on the bed next to his stretched-out form, running a hand along his clothed thigh as he relaxes against your pillows, arms folded behind his head as his eyes track the movement of your hand against him. He just huffs, not bothering to deny it.

“Wanna talk about it?” you move fully onto the bed now, kneeling between his legs as your hands continue to soothe circles into the tense muscles.

“No.” he deadpans, eyes tracking the movement of your hands working their way up his calves to his thighs.

“Do you think your brothers deserve to be on the receiving end of your shitty attitude?” you side eye him. You do hate nagging him, but sometimes it does take a gentle nudge for your grump kinda-boyfriend to get the hint.

“No Sir” its almost a whisper, and your eyes widen slightly. Oh, so this is how he wants it to got tonight? Sir is only ever used in one context when it comes to you and Crosshair, usually its Doc or whatever name he chooses from a plethora of pet names he has for you.

Sir only means one thing.

You smirk down at him as he avoids eye contact with you. Crosshair is an experienced man, you knew this when you first started whatever this thing is that the two of you have going on, however he still sometimes has trouble giving up control without feeling well… embarrassed for lack of a better term.

You continue running your hands up his thighs, towards the growing tent in his undersuit, purposely avoiding it and moving your fingers into the waistband of his blacks, peeling the tight fabric from his body. “Blacks off, then hands by your sides. You don’t touch me or yourself unless instructed, understood?” ordering clones around comes rather naturally to you, considering the number of soldiers that seem to dislike medical exams more than separatists, you’ve developed a ‘no nonsense’ tone over your time working on Kamino that also happens to work very well in situations like these.

You move over to your bedside table, retrieving all the necessities, before turning back towards Crosshair who is now naked, hands by his sides and staring up at the ceiling just as you ordered. “Hm, looks like you can follow orders” you sneer at him, and you don’t miss the shudder that wracks his body as he finally makes eye contact with you. You pop open the bottle of lube, coating your fingers with a generous amount before tossing the closed bottle onto the bed. His cock is throbbing, beads of precum shining in the low light before rolling off the tip of his length and leaking onto his toned abs.

“Wider” is all you say, all you need to say as Crosshair opens his legs, allowing you access to his puckered hole. You run a single finger around the rim before slowly breaching him, pushing it inside ever so slowly. You watch his face for any signs of discomfort but his parted lips, rapid breathing and throbbing cock indicate anything but. You add a second finger, slowly scissoring his entrance open, trying to find that perfect spot that will have him coming apart at the seams.

He's writhing and moaning, fists still clenched obediently at his sides as he screws his eyes shut. You’re hitting that perfect spot inside of him over and over again but he knows he can’t cum yet, the two of you have done this enough that he knows he needs your permission to cum.

You run your free hand along his body, avoiding his weeping length, the pads of your fingers glide along his tensing abs as your didgets continue working him open. Once you’re satisfied that he is adequately prepared, you remove your fingers, earning a low groan from the man beneath you as you wipe them on the sheets next to you. “What do you want tonight? You’ve been such a good boy, no touching or talking out of turn. I’ll reward you by letting you decide what you get” you give him a sweet smile as he pants atop your sheets, sweat clinging to his body as he looks over at you with blown pupils.

“I… I want your cock…” you frown down at him, trying to look as disappointed as possible as if the sight of Crosshair looking entirely debauched beneath you wasn’t slowly eroding your dominant façade. “Now here I was about to reward you for being a good boy… that’s no way to ask for what you want” you stand up off the bed, moving to tie the robe tighter around you as you hear him whimper out a soft apology. “Sorry, Sir, please let me have your cock Sir” he looks like he’s about to move his arms to reach out for you before he steadies himself, keeping them firmly balled in the sheets of you bed by his sides.

You smile, he really was getting the hang of it. Removing the thin robe around your body and retrieving the leather harness from where it was placed on your bedside table, you slide it up your legs before securing it tightly around your body. The entire time Crosshair’s gaze is transfixed, as if he’s enthralled by the sight of you. You smile down at him again, face softening slightly as you take in his form. He’s absolutely ruined and you haven’t even gotten to the main course yet. Eyes blown wide, cock flushed and leaking, chest rising and falling with rapid ragged breaths.

“Hands and knees pretty boy” you order and him and he obeys immediately, shifting into position with a strangled “yes sir”.

You kneel behind him on the bed, resting the faux cock against his prepared entrance, teasing him before breaching him with the thick head of the strap. His eyes flutter shut, fists clenching and unclenching as he lets out a loud moan. You take a handful of his ass as you slowly feed the thick toy into him as he writhes and groans beneath you, head shoved into the pillow muffling his sounds as the stretch of the toy overwhelms him.

After what feels like an eternity, you’re fully sheathed inside of him, stretching him out before setting a brutal pace. “Does this feel good baby? Is this exactly what you needed to take your mind off things?” you’re panting now from thrusting in and out of him, hips pounding into his as you repeatedly hit that spot inside of him that has him whining and moaning your name. “Y-yes Sir kriff- Thank you sir” his voice has been reduced to a course whisper as he nears his peak at an alarming speed, his neglected cock leaking a steady stream of precum onto the sheets beneath him as he fists the sheets.

“Sir can I cum… Kriff sir please” his voice cracks on the last word. Usually you would make him work harder for it, beg more, but he seems to already be holding himself back and you can’t bring yourself to torture him anymore, especially since he’s been so good tonight. “Let go baby” your words send him over the edge, ecstasy washing over him as he lets out a string of ‘thank you’s before you pull out and he collapses onto the bed beneath him.

You rid yourself of the toy before turning on the shower. You walk over to the bed and hoist Crosshair up, carrying most of his weight on your shoulder as you lead him towards the running water.

“feeling better?” your voice is soft, its teasing edge from before nowhere to be found. The soft smile he gives you is proof enough that whatever mood he was in before has passed and you feel your chest swell with pride knowing that Wrecker was right, you do mellow him out. You watch him stand on unsteady legs under the warm water before leaving to change the sheets.

Despite being locked out of the barracks you always knew he was going to be staying in your room tonight.  

@where-is-my-mind-tho @starborncyare @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for future Crossmut

[saltylandland]

If the lost boys were cuckolds (pt1)

Cuckolding: when someone gets off to watching their significant other have sex with someone else

David,,,, Dwayne…. Paul!!!! Marko****

David:

- something that might be controversial considering the way David is usually portrayed, but I think in some situations (such as this) he gets off to his lack of power in the situation

- Really leans into watching your s/o ‘cheat’ on you in front of you side of cuckolding

- Obviously not just any small fry in any of these scenarios would get to bed you (much less live afterwards) so you only have 3 other options, the other boys.

- Also, I am not writing these as poly headcanons and David has different comfort levels with letting each boy fuck you and it depends on the mood for the night and how frustrated(?) David wants to get

- Dwayne: David is the most comfortable with relinquishing control to Dwayne bc out of the boys Dwayne would be the closest David sees as ‘on his level’ (superiority complex coming in clutch thx max)

- This situation would happen after a night of mind games (on David’s part) of riling you up, then he belatedly realised that he isn’t that horny himself (well if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions)

- Whether he still wants you to suffer with more teasing, or he wants Dwayne to take over, or he wants you taken care of but just not in the mood to handle being cucked by anyone else, Dwayne is his go too

- Paul: now this situation is similar to Dwayne’s, David teased you to hell and back and got you so worked up he realised ‘oh, I have to do work now :/‘

- Paul is considered a more merciful option as his main mode is ‘hard and fast’

- *slaps hand on roof of car* this baby can go for many rounds,,, sorry that was a bad joke. Not sorry enough to delete it tho

- In my personal opinion, Paul and Marko got the stamina, while Dwayne and David are good at stretching things out

- David’s a little more on edge with Paul but if you want to get crude with it, David reasons that Paul only thinks with his dick atm, so it’s easier to swallow ya know?

- Marko: this is a drastic change and David only allows and instigates when he really wants to pull some emotions.

- My reasoning is; I don’t remember where but I heard that David and Marko have a bit of a servant/master power thing going on

- It’s a 50/50 chance that it’ll turn into the most intense 3some you’ve ever had in your mortal life (tho it would be more intense if you’re a vamp/supernatural creature)

[unnerving-presence]

Requests are open give me the sex pollen sub wesker I need please I'm sorry if im annoying but my gay ass needs it

i despise this but i don’t really have anything else to post atm

sorry i don’t write fics often. i’m not very experienced in that category nor am i good at writing nsfw in general

NSFW Below!

⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎

"Oh, Albert," you purred, your eyes locked on his. You moved closer, your body pressing against his as you reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair. He could feel the heat radiating off you and it made him want to be ever so closer to you. His hands trail up and down your waist, feeling and memorizing your body. He looks down at where you both connect, falling into a trance at the sight of you taking his cock. Up and down your hips move, the pace quickens and your pleasure heightens.

Albert couldn't deny the chemistry between you and him. Ever since he met you he had been drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He had tried to fight it, but he could no longer deny the pull that you had on him, especially not now. Not when the aphrodisiac flowed through his veins.

"Dearheart, please.."

Wesker loved the feeling of you on top of him, their naked bodies entwined in the sheets. He closes his eyes, savoring the moment and allowing himself to get lost in the pleasure that was slowly building up inside him, the sensation intensifying with each bounce of your hips. The more of your touch he felt, the more he wanted... more.

Your pace was unrelenting, becoming too much for even you to handle. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. He was hitting all the right spots and the feeling only made you both want more. There was seemingly no limit to how desperate you both would get. This was too good. You didn't want this to end. You needed more of him, perhaps more than he needed you.

You threw back your head, panting each time you felt his cock push its way back inside of you. Your hands on his chest ever so slightly shift as you bite your lip. The feeling was so addictive. He wanted nothing more than to be in this moment forever. He could feel your heat warming his cock, making it throb with desire. You lift your hips back up, watching his eyes widen with anticipation before slamming your hips back down. He growls at the overwhelming sensation and all you feel is power. You're in complete control of him and he knows it.

You lean in close, kissing just below his jaw before you whisper into his ear.

"You're being such a good boy for me, aren't you?"

God, your words alone almost make him cum.

Wesker digs his fingers into your thighs and desperately nods. He wants to fuck you so bad. He wants to fill you with his seed until you physically can't. He wants so many things at once. This pollen is nearly taking control of him and he feels himself about to snap. He wants to follow his urges, but just your words have him wrapped around your finger. He'd do anything for you just to hear your praise.

Hearing his shuddering breaths only encouraged you, your hips lifting, his cock practically weeping for attention as you sat there for a moment. The tip gently presses against your entrance, testing his patience, perhaps even testing yours. For a short moment at least.

"You deserve a reward for being so good to me.."

His breath hitches in his throat. The feeling of your hips pushing down onto his, taking him whole once more simply can't be described with words. Each frantic thrust of your hips is intoxicating. Your tight hole squeezes around him with every push and pull. The gentle, tender movements of your hands were now rough and full of desire, leaving marks on his chest as you rake your nails down his torso. Wesker doesn't care about holding back anymore. He has been plenty patient. The pollen is overtaking his senses, and all he wants is to fill you up over and over until this.. annoying feeling leaves his mind.

Albert's mind is a blur, almost drowning in pleasure. It feels so good and just doesn't want it to stop. He groans and growls, his hunger taking over as he fucks you with renewed vigor. His cock slides in and out of you with ease. Wesker needs more. He always needs more. Why does he feel so disgustingly aroused? Whatever is taking over his system, he doesn't know, nor does he care. All he can focus on is just how good it feels to be inside of you. The throbbing of his cock, the stinging of your teeth biting his neck, the way he’s so close to cumming. It’s so thrilling, so beautiful.

He can’t get enough.

Your thighs quiver as Wesker fucks you, pumping his cock into you harder with each thrust. You know he’s close. His various growls of frustration have now turned into desperate whimpers, his movements now only motivated by his need to finish inside of you. You can’t deny your own orgasm approaching either. His cock hits deep inside of you. You can barely hold yourself up, your arms shake and your fingernails dig into his skin even deeper.

“Fuck! Albert-!”

Your orgasm ripples through your body as you cry out his name. You seemingly have close to no control over your own body, your hips jerking forward as if begging for more. Your mouth goes dry, panting for air as your hands desperately hold on to any part of his body that you can reach. As if trying to seek some sort of comfort in the midst of your climax, you bury your face in his neck. The pleasure is endless as your whole body spasms, your walls squeeze around his cock and Wesker finally bursts.

A wave of pleasure crashes through his body. Wesker’s vision goes black and the only thing he can do in this moment is whimper and whine as his orgasm takes over his senses. He’s never felt anything so good in his life. He can’t even speak. Your flaming touch on his body makes him hold your closer. The teeth biting his neck only brings him more pleasure, his hips jolting up at any sign of stimulation. He can barely appreciate your beautiful sounds of satisfaction, the way your walls grip his cock continues to drag his orgasm out. Wesker’s deep, hard thrusts now are quick and short, eager for nothing else but to keep this feeling going. The warmth of your sweet, slick hole only encourages him further. It feels so good, so perfect. You feel amazing and he just doesn’t want to stop.. He can’t even think anymore. All he can do is move his hips until he no longer feels such a pleasurable feeling.

He keeps up his seemingly never ending thrusts, his climax slowly fades away as his the movements of his hips slow to a stop. Slumping on the mattress, he catches his breath, his eyes gently closing as he recovers from such an eventful night. He doesn’t bother pulling out, nor moving you off of him. He finds himself taking an unusual fondness to the warmth of your body.

Seconds pass by and the same, hard-to-ignore feeling creeps up his body, into his mind. He slowly opens his eyes and finds you. You’re rocking your hips again, your cocky little smile unwavering. It’s almost as if you knew he’d want to go again.

Wesker smirks. He didn’t have a problem with going another round, especially not when you were the one in control.

[kreativewritin444]

back to me/ r.c

authors note:  hiii my lovelies, how have y’all been??  :)) i have been super busy and honestly my mindspace for awhile was just not there lol, so i took my break. slowly have i realized on here y’all have gone through a following of my transition as a person and a writer. for i write from experience and truth even though everythings fiction...

 anywhore my new thing is star wars atm totally in awe with everything so this may or may not caught some ideas up in it....

 summary// you were dating rafe, the boy chosen to fall

warnings// abuse, mention of murder, rafe lol also this is toxic

 you were walking down the side of the road, the sadness filled within your heart. everything was lost, rafe was out of control. after dating for a year you’d think you know a person.

 till you found out the truth.

it first started with the drug abuse. watching his character slowly change into someone you barely knew; especially the fights between his family. yet when sarah and john b went missing at sea, things changed with everyone. 

 he was accused of murder, and you so blindly trusted him. thinking not rafe... not possible. he would do a lot but murder?

you were hung up with rafe through it all, sometimes he did feel sad. most of the time he acted like she didn’t exist or that he cared, until she and john b came back. 

 that’s when everything slowly began to change for the worse. he said he was stepping up, going to be a bigger man. some rant about his family status being more serious. sarah gets back and things slowly start to be revealed. 

after one night, you escaped out the room leaving behind a passed out rafe. sarah met you face to face, before she pulls you in her room. her desperate plea to her case; you finally opening up about your side of things.

 now supposedly rafe shot sarah, is in on stealing the gold and even has gone off the fucking walls. this led you into a three day depression room sinkhole.

 until now where you are walking down the streets, tears streaming down your cheeks. this was a walk to clear your mind, after all you have been hiding from. stupid idea. the sun set so now it was street lights leading your way.

 a car passes by and you ignore it, wiping your tears. not paying attention your foot slips, body slipping forward. the feeling of your ankle twist makes your hiss, as your hands and knees were scraped up.

 “fuckin’ great.” you mumble to yourself, tired of this day. a heavy sigh escapes your lips as you push yourself up, noticing the blood along your knee. your back pocket starts vibrating.

 pulling out your phone, trying to avoid the harsh feeling along your palm. rafe cameron’s caller id appears across the screen. hesitating as you bite your lip, you wanted to hit the red button. you wanted to decline it.

 “hello?” your voice wasn’t exactly happy but it wasn’t just with him. your knee was bleeding while only your left hand really held scrapes. your ankle was sore but you knew not broken. as you didn’t hear a response, you focus in hearing rafe’s tense breathing over the phone.

 “where are you? what’s wrong?” his questions make you roll your eyes. “i am no where, and nothing i-i am fine.” you hate the way he knows you, even after all this shit. it hurt because you were still in love with someone who has headed down a path extremely dangerous.

 he scoffs, “tell me where you are, i’ll come get you.” you shake your head even though he couldn’t see that. “no! i mean no rafe, not right now. i need, i need-”

his voice cuts me off, sounding desperate almost. “don’t do that shit to me y/n, don’t tell me you need space.” 

your lips tremble, “rafe i don’t know what to do.” the confession was raw, pure, innocent. 

 you truly were defeated by your feelings and the fact of things. he went quiet for a moment before he lowers his voice. “let us talk, please?” he pauses for a moment.

“ let me come get you, i know you y/n. something has happened.” you almost wanted to laugh. “nothing has happened beside everything else that’s so obvious.” your voice cracks softly towards the end, making you want to curse yourself.

 “y/n, tell me where you are.”

 “i-” a defeated sigh escapes you, glancing around you notice a street sign. “i am on lotus street, i-i was walking and i tripped and fell.”

 you swore you heard him mumble something, “okay. i’m on the way. call me if anything happens.”

 you hang up, hobbling to sit along side the road. choosing some bricks to sit on. you didn’t even have a bag, but you see a nice big leaf on a tree nearby. getting up once more, heading over to it. you pull off a few leaves, the branch sways as you walk away.

 sitting back down, you sniffle softly as you wipe the blood trailing down your leg. biting your lip as you wipe around your knee as well.

 less than ten minutes, the familiar truck lights are seen coming down. you sit up straighter, lifting your hand up to block some of the light. he pulls up beside you before parking it on the side of the rode.

 he gets out rushing around the vehicle. you stand up quickly, nose contorting in pain, forgetting about your ankle in the moment. he steps closer but your hand flies up instinctively. he stops in his tracks, eyes meeting yours with a wild look.

 “y/n.”

 you shake your head at him, “you’ve lied to me rafe!” everything has been building up and now seeing him.

 “who told you that? sarah?” he tilts his head and you stare at him in pure awe. his reaction was just pure dumb and it angers you. “wh-what? it’s not about that rafe. you lied! you did things... you are changing.”

 your eyes trail on how his shirt was damp and he had a bruise near his jaw. “those fuckin’ pogues are turning you against me! bet they’re telling you all sorts of lies, huh?”

 “i don’t know who you are anymore rafe!” you wince as you step back.” th-the things you’ve done... the things you plan to do.” you sob out, and he takes in your appearance. how your fall was, how you were in pain. emotionally and physically.

 “just get in the truck y/n. we can talk about this somewhere else.” he tries to persuade you, but your head shakes for a moment. without a beat your hand clutches your chest, as if it would give some relief. to the weight that felt like it was crushing you inside out. as you were sure your heart was breaking.

 he wasn’t the person you knew anymore.

”oh my god, rafe. you almost killed your fuckin’ sister, you were accused of murdering pet-” he rushes forward pointing at you. his one hand wraps around your biceps, jerking you slightly.

 “don’t you ever say that shit again.” his finger now digging in your cheek, makes you scared. shoving his chest, watching him stumble back surprised for a moment.

 your chest heaves up and down, moving away from the bricks you were once sitting on. staring him fully on as tears blur your vision.

 “you could come back!” your voice cracks as you plea with him. “you can come back, come back with me.” please choose this, please choose to do things different.

 he shakes his head, “you know i can’t do that.” 

 your heart sinks, lips trembling. “why is that, rafe?” please don’t say it. you plead with yourself even though your stomach felt sick.

 “we got the gold, i can’t- i gotta’ go with my dad!” he shakes and you stare at him in horror. the final realization hitting, everything made your mind swirl.

 “rafe...” you look at him and tears stream down your face. you hated this. you hated him. you hated yourself. for not being able to help but want his embrace to comfort you in this.

 “you can do right, we can do right. we can figure this all out okay?” you try to ease on him, but his eyes glare into yours.

 “we could figure this all out, rafe. you can come back to me, before all this shit. be the old us? right?” he looks away from you, making your heart drop. “right rafe? you love me right? we can do right, give the gold back. get away from here!”

 now his attention is back to you. “did sarah or the pogues put you up to this?” he almost laughs and you shake your head desperately. “no! rafe i love you!”

you step closer to him, slowly due to your ankle. “rafe, this is insane. it’s gone too far with barry before a-and this now?”

 he shakes his head, “do you trust me y/n?” you wanted desperately to say yes. to forget everything, run away from the problems but you hesitated.

 his eyes go cold, “let me take you back home?” he makes it a question but it was more of a demand. you felt defeated, stranded in a forest with no compass.

 “wait.” you freeze hesitant of it all. coming more to your senses.

 he stops at the sound of your voice, turning to face you. “people who get in your way...” you trail off almost hesitant to say it. “they don’t end up well.”

 his head cocks to the side, “what do you mean by that y/n? you think i would hurt you?”

 “you didn’t say you loved me back.” the truth made you step back from him.  “i’m going to call someone else to get me, rafe.”

 “i love you, y/n. don’t you see? the goal involves you, i’ll always protect you!” he steps closer and you shake your head. your throat hurt from keeping the tears at bay, but as he gets the look of realization. the tears slide down your cheek.

“i don’t think i can trust you anymore rafe. you are going down a path that i-i don’t think i can follow.” your hand trembles as he glowers at you. “y/n... don’t turn away from me too.”

 your hands shakes as it comes up to your face for a moment, covering your mouth of the sob that escapes. the emotion in both your eyes was readable, from anyones point of view.

 “i love you rafe... please.” the desperate plea from your lips. you looking stupid begging for an unchangeable man, too well change.

 your phone lights up with sarahs name popping up, catching rafe’s attention. “liar!” he moves in a haste, snatching the phone. “no wait r-”

 he tosses it off into the grass somewhere, before snatching you up. he shoves you against the truck, the truck was off. the street light was farther down and it was dark. you two were in the dark.

 his hands wrap around your throat, your hands clawing at his hands. “r-afe.” you manage to choke out, as you start seeing spots. eyes rolling back he drops you backing up.

 you start coughing heavily, as the air starts to fill your lungs again. “oh my god.” it barely registers as you grip your throat desperately, as if it could ease the pain. “y/n,y/n... i am so sorry.”

 as you look back up at him, the view of the fading light barely shows his face. yet you made out the look on his. he didn’t look exactly sorry. he just didn’t look like the rafe you knew at all.

 “yo-you just...” it hurt to speak, but what you didn’t notice was when you fell. you hit your head, leaving your forehead dripping blood down your right cheeks. your hands touch the spot, making you wince as your eyes try to focus.

 the sight of your fingertips covered in blood makes your stomach churn. feeling lightheaded and unable to catch your breathe. 

 you desperately call out, “rafe...” he stares down at the wound in need of attention. one he caused in rage. “i’m scared.”

 spots fill your vision and everything starts to fade. the last thing you felt was rafe scooping you up.

[desperatted]

♕

▶ sup! if you're here, you're either here to write with me or judge me for my kinks. either is fine by me, as long as you have fun! allow me to detail what this blog is for and who I am;

I am a trans man in my early thirties. super communicative, the creative type, I dom as a hobby and gravitate to mostly writing top-doms, or at least dominant bottoms. I'm flexible, however, and go where the plot and characters take me! my writing is advanced literate and, despite the nature of the writing I intend to do with this blog, I prefer quality over quantiy and am not interested in writing with anyone whose quality of text doesn't match with mine. I want to feel like we vibe, otherwise I lose interest quick. like said, I like writing tops and doms, but I'm more interested in the gentle, soft, pleasure / service dom and top types than evil, controlling and abusive doms. the kinds with more of a savior complex than a desire to use anyone. that being said, though - it doesn't mean my characters will be entirely soft and can definitely get mean, especially to tease their partners. it all depends on what we want to do with the plot! I prefer writing over discord, but I'm not super particular.

I created this blog to find likeminded kinksters to write with; full list of kinks under the cut. 25+ only. please be advanced literate, as I am too. I'm interested in writing out kinky settings with relationships and love at the heart of them. I'm open to including messed up situations that are due to unfortunate circumstance or that happened in the past, but I am not interested in a purposefully toxic or malicious relationship. if anything, I want our characters to comfort each other through the angst and the suffering and grow together from it, sexually and beyond. power imbalances can be fun, but need to be discussed OOC first.

MxM for the most part, open to fandom, fandomless, CC and OC related storylines! I have plenty of ideas for set-ups and plotlines; if you approach me with the sort of dynamics and kinks you'd be into writing, I'll be sure to toss some suggestions your way.

NOTE; just because my list of kinks is long, it does not mean I'm looking to include all of them in one roleplay. if you, say, are into writing orgasm denial but not bladder control? that's fine!! I'm still into it!!

without further ado; below is, as mentioned, a list of fandoms and kinks I'm open to / looking to include in my writing. if any of it strikes your fancy, don't be shy and hit me up! for a quick example of my writing, feel free to check out my AO3;

DESPERATTED on AO3

▶ fandoms:

Current hyperfixations: Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon Age

• some of my favorites to write:

Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon Age, Criminal Minds, Fallout, Marvel, Supernatural, Squid Game, Stranger Things, The Last Of Us

• favorite canon characters to write against:

(BG3) Astarion Ancunín, Gale Dekarios, Wyll Ravengard, (DA) Loghain Mac Tir, Lucanis Dellamorte, Zevran Arainai, Fenris, (CM) Spencer Reid, (Fallout) MacCready, Scribe Maximus, Charon, (Marvel) Logan Howlett, Tony Stark, Peter Quill, Kraglin, (SPN) Dean Winchester, Castiel, (SG) Gi-hun Seong, (ST) Steve Harrington

• canon characters I have experience writing:

(DA) Varric Tethras, Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull, Sigrun, (Marvel) Gamora, Nebula, James Rhodes, Remy LeBeau, (SG) Sang-woo Cho, (ST) Eddie Munson

▶ kinks:

【 ♥ = especially searching ATM 】

• yes! :

bondage / shibari, dom-sub, praise, worship / body worship, begging, nipple play, crying, omorashi, ♥ bladder control, bladder shyness, ♥ orgasm control, edging, magic, sex toys, ♥ premature / ruined orgasms, sexual dysfunction, ♥ public orgasms / teasing / desperation etc, multiple orgasms, orgasm torture, forced orgasms, mild humiliation, mild exhebitionism, mild voyeurism, mild monsterfucking, M/M

• possible:

dubious consent, chastity, humiliation, impact play, age gaps, CNC, M/F

• nope:

mpreg, diapers, scat, consuming fluids, littles, DDLG, step-anything, grooming, MAPs, incest, beastiality / full on animals, puppy / pony / etc play, ageplay, raceplay, full non-con / r*pe / ab*se , hard humiliation / blackmail, substance abuse, omegaverse, F/F, sissification or other gender-related humiliation, trans characters (short explanation: gender dysphoria)

all in all... for me, it's the journey of prolonged desire, teasing and waiting culminating into a release that's The Shit 🤌🏻

▶ samples for vibes:

for clarity, none of these were written by me nor are they exactly what I'm looking for. they simply describe the kind of vibe, settings and dynamics I'm looking for (or looking for our characters to have survived).

• I Didn't Say You Could Let Go (AO3, omorashi / abusive past)

with this one, I'd love the idea of (your character) having been The Assett in this situation. (your character) is somehow freed from the situation they've been in and are watched over by mine; (your character)'s prior conditioning takes hold and they have issues performing in daily life, including having no idea how to ask what they need for. my character gently guides them through their issues and into independence.

• When He Can't (AO3, omorashi / bladder shyness)

I adore the setting of a loving relationship with one half having issues and the other loving them through it!

• To Love Or Not To Love (AO3, orgasm denial / edging / sex toys / dubcon)

it's the latter half of this fic for me; the extreme orgasm denial combined with multiple orgasms and pining? yes. yesssss.

[assortedvillainvault]

Going back through your archive and having a delightful time, tbh .. I don't know if you're in a Darksiders mood ATM, but I love your chancellor stuff and rarely see content for him-- could you do a couple headcannons where he tries to be a secret admirer for the reader? I don't know why I get the vibe he would really lean into it as a way to express his feelings honestly, but NEVER reveal it was him (on purpose at least) because it's shameful/unprofessional? Seriously, I think he would rather die 🤣

A Chancellor ask?!? Blessed be!!! We are brothers in blood now you understand, hope in the night, simps of exclusive bad taste. I'm not kidding when I say seeing this ask made my afternoon, I hope you like this because I had a blast writing it.

SecretAdmirer!Chancellor x Reader

Aaah Chancellor. The most tsundere of all the bastards in the undying lands.

And you, human liaison to the afterlife, stationed on the Eternal Throne as if destined to be a pain in the neck.

He’s stalking the corridors, scowling at the continued deterioration of the floor (while he’s adept at jumping the enormous gaps in the floorboards, he’ll die again before anyone has to see him do it), and rounds the corner to see you stood like a beautiful statue, back to him.

In your hand, is a letter.

His nonexistent heartbeat lurches in what little remains of his chest, and he fights back the alien urge to either vomit or smile. Instead, he steels himself and sneers.

“If you are going to stand around gormlessly, must you stand in the middle of the hall?”

You snap around to face him, he can just barely make out the hint of a blush slowly fading down your cheeks in the gloom as your expressions twists from surprise to disgust.

You exaggeratedly step back and bow him down the enormous hall, features smarmed in condescension. “So sorry Chancellor, please feel free to carry on your Very Urgent way.”

He scoffs, resolutely ignores how his remaining intestines curdle excitedly at the fact you’re speaking to him, and makes sure to glare down his missing nose at just the right angle to accentuate your startling height difference.

He doesn’t move on. Why would he? Your spats are the highlight of his eternal grinding days.

“Hmph. Why are you loitering about in the Undercroft?” His eyes narrow at the letter, noting with glee how close you’re holding it. “I wasn’t aware Earth had recovered enough to start sending their filth between realms?”

“Oh fuck off-” SUCH a shame you had dropped all pretence of civility within three months of your station here, but he can’t deny your animated responses are shamefully addicting. “- this isn’t from Earth. Someone left it under my door.”

“Oh? Truly we need to pick up the pace then, if some lout has nothing better to do than slip chickenscratch under every door in the throne-”

“Not every door!” you snap, and he bites his tongue in delight. “...Just mine,” you mumble and oh, that blush… His fingers itch with the need to feel that warmth creeping under the skin of your neck...

But he has more self control than the other brutes on this ship. “So emotional over a letter? How gauche.” He turns what’s left of his lips up over his teeth. “Only a joker or a fool would deign to court you.”

He turns and strides off without another word. Leaving you speechless.

He is absolutely not running, how dare you.

To see you admire his little notes fills his ribcage with fluttering moths. He can barely scrape his brain together for another excruciatingly dull day at court knowing you smile so softly at the curl of his own handwriting, that you likely had found and kept every note he’s dropped off so far.

But by death itself, if you ever figure out it’s him, he’ll throw himself into the leviathan’s jaws before he ever admits he thinks so ardently of the only living thing on this ship. You cannot know. EVER.

His fingers are itching again. He must write you another tonight.

[dallonwrites]

okay so one thing i wanted this year was to handwrite more, just because i like the idea of having physical copies of my writing like that rather than tucked into a computer doc, and i specifically have a Lover Boy Notebook. the goal isn’t to commit to handwriting the draft (typically i play with writing a scene in my notes app or laptop, which i call freewriting, and use that to handwrite a more “official” draft of that scene) but just to have a physical, chronological (bc i am NOT a linear writer usually) capsule of the first full draft. the idea is also that the first full draft, rather than being the messy thing you get out of the way so you can polish it into something better, is something special because its messy and new and only just becoming sure of itself, and that’s the part of a story i want to specially preserve like this more than anything.

anyway longwinded explanation aside, I am actually finding it so fun. these are the main benefits i notice (which very much align with my writing process and goals, i know they won’t for others!):

breaks up my writing sessions in a way that my brain processes more easily (sometimes i struggle to know if I’m really “done” for the day which has led to both over and under writing but here it’s just like. okay my arm hurt now)

forces me to write slower because i can’t control my handwriting well and need to be slow to be aware of what i’m doing, whereas on the laptop i can touch type so sometimes i will be writing and just zone out (great for sprints and fast drafts, but neither of those align with my writing goals atm)

^ writing slower has made me feel more immersed in a moment as i write it, especially i think combined with actively writing the words instead of typing keys fast. i’ve found myself immersing deep into images and scenes only to step back and realise that was all just one paragraph. something about it feels more actively engaging than typing a story out, but again i touch type so it’s easy for me to detach from what i’m doing when i do that

OMG THE STORY LITERALLY FEELS ALIVE!!!!!! i can flick through it, i can hear the words against the paper and notebook as i write them, i can feel the words when i run my hand over a page. this is sensory seeking autism heaven for me

[chronicallyonline101]

hi!!!! this is the anon that sent in the Melone ask (if you recieved it), i was rereading Dumb Killers nd i have a few questions!!! if thats okay!!!

what inspired you to write it??? like its such a heavy fic, the chapters are SO long and we're 10 chpts in now without even half the cast introduced so i can imagine its got a long while to go !! how r u managing this??? are you okay mentally???

second of all, is it gonna follow canon? or have you got your own plot made up??

im excited for the next chapter !!! i cant wait to find out what happens with the team, and how Pesci will eventually join! that scene with (who i think was) Prosciutto's dad had me gasping lol

HI. I SQUEALED WHEN I READ THIS !!! ik u! I call you melone-anon to my friends cuz im currently writing ur request and its one of my favs 🤭🤭 it'll be out soon!! sozzies its taking so long ive got a few projects im working on atm so im a bit slow on everything !!

OKAY. SO. THIS IS GONNA BE WEIRD but the reason i wanted to write Dumb Killers is because i read this fic in like... January? I want to say? It was a La Squadra x reader and it was PERFECT. for some time... it was over 100k words, had a LOT of kudos and seemed pretty good but the thing was that it started out AMAZING and then like, after a few chapters turned into sensless smut... like, i LOVE smut but the plot of the fic stopped progressing because literally EVERY. OTHER. CHAPTER. the characters were getting freaky and i got bored and it pissed me off so bad i decided right then and there i needed to write my own fic!

i actually have imaginary beef with that author now cuz their fic has around 700 kudos and i wanna beat them BUT ANYWAYS. ENOUGH OF ME BEING JEALOUS OVER OTHER AUTHORS.

i feel a bit bad that the chapters are so long but i literally have no control over it 😭 i just start writing and by the time im done 20k lines the page... i looked on the ao3 subreddit to see if it was normal and was pleased to learn that on average most authors do around 10-15k SO IM NOT WEIRD.

ALSO. its only long rn cuz its the introduction! Pesci will be introduced by chpt 12, and after that things start speeding up! prommies!

it will kinda follow canon??? i have my own plot in mind, and that plot will slowly bleed into canon! but its not gonna follow canon exactly, the events of GW are gonna unfold from La Squadra's POV up until Ghiaccio's fight, and then its gonna get a bit quirky (: BUT I CANT SPOIL. SO. TAKE WITH THAT WHAT YOU WILL!!!!

im so glad your enjoying!!! seeing comments like these makes me giggle nd kick my legs 🤧🤧 and yes! It was Prosciutto's dad! well done! 😚😚 im giving you a big kiss! i hope you like the next chapter! it should be out soon!!!!