#please spread this far and wide because I need answers

[fishwithtitz]

I have an idea for a Copia fic where he takes a Prime Mover that he’s not necessarily interested in. It would be a realistic pregnancy story and very angsty. None of this “creating life is beautiful and I feel so blessed” or “oops, I sneezed and the baby popped out” stuff. I’m a bit nervous to write it because I know that some people might not care for the pregnancy trope, so I thought I’d send out some feelers🫡

[adanfore]

Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.

He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.

You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in

the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.

If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.

“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”

You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.

“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”

“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”

And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.

“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”

With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.

“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”

“Helping him with what?”

“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!

Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.

After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.

“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”

“What are you talking about, Choso?”

“H-How you said you’d help me later..”

“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”

You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.

“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“

“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”

The sigh Choso gave out was huge.

“Please…”

That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.

You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.

“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”

Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.

“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”

When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.

You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.

The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”

You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.

“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”

That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.

“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”

“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”

And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.

NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME

[literaila]

How would gojo propose? Would he be serious or would he lock in and ask 👁️👁️

there is not one single proposal. oh no.

it’s starts off fairly simple—

“you have to fold it at an angle so that it doesn’t bunch up when you—“ you glance at satoru out of the side of your eye, sighing. “are you even listening to me, satoru?”

“marry me.”

and you drop the sheet in your hands. you turn to him, eyes as wide as can be. “excuse me?”

“marry me?” he’s smiling at you, leaning down so that you’re eye to eye. “please?”

you blink at him. staring for just a moment. the laugh that falls out of your mouth next is nothing short of bewildered, disbelieving. “i can’t—“ you scoff, returning to your sheet which satoru is supposed to be learning how to fold. “no, thank you.”

he pouts. “no? why not?”

you laugh again, kissing his cheek. “nice try, baby.”

and then he stands there with his arms crossed, just staring at you for almost an hour.

or maybe it’s date night and you’re just walking down the street, and satoru points out a lantern that’s bouncing colors off of the wall, a rainbow of light on both of your faces.

and you’re walking arm in arm, just looking at each other.

“marry me,” satoru whispers, his voice lithe and warm, something tangible.

you’re already smiling at him, so you don’t stop. “are you flirting with me?”

“c’mon, just one little marriage. i’ll even buy you a cake. and a ring.”

“wow. that’s a temping offer.”

“marry me?” he repeats, stopping you so that you’re just looking at him.

looking at the light in his eyes, and the colors on his face, turning his skin all sorts of magic.

“i’m think i’m going to pass.”

he groans, almost falling into you. “why not?”

“that’s just too easy, satoru,” you say, kissing his cheek, and then you drag him along as you resume your walk.

the colors fade, and so does satoru’s dejection. your smile is too contagious for him to keep up the act for long.

but then it molds into something else—far more desperate.

you’ll just be opening the fridge, looking inside.

“did tsumiki already pack her lunch?” you’ll ask him.

and satoru will nod. “yes. marry me.”

you just roll your eyes, shutting the door.

or you’ll be in the shower and satoru knocks on the door, peeking a head in. “what time will you be ready?” he asks.

“half an hour?”

“okay…” there’s a pause.

“satoru?” you ask, when you don’t hear the door shut.

“marry me?”

you scoff. “go check on megumi.”

or you’ll be in the store and satoru will put another carton of ice cream in the cart, which you scold him for.

“put it back.”

“only if you marry me.”

“i want you to redact that sentence in the next three seconds—“

or you’ll be exorcising a curse, just finishing up, still panting when you get a phone call. “satoru?”

“marry me.”

“do you actually need something? i’m kind of busy.”

“yes. marry me.”

“i’m hanging up.”

and this goes on for months. it will spread into a year, and at some point you stop feeling guilty for rejecting him every time, and satoru stops looking sad each time you do.

it’s like a habit, some weird tradition the two of you have. you come to anticipate it. appreciate it for what it is—easy, something ridiculous.

megumi personally hates it. “she already said no,” he’ll grunt at satoru, passing him through the door. “just get over it.”

tsumiki just sits there, waiting expectantly every time like the answer will be different. but it never is.

and then there’s one day. you’re both at jujutsu high, both working, and satoru just happens to be sitting on the steps of the entrance.

it’s been a long day for him. maybe something happened with one of his students, or maybe yaga said something just to get under his skin.

or maybe it’s just one of those days—the ones where memories cling to his skin like dirt.

it’s hard being here, sometimes.

and you’ve been looking for him for twenty minutes (because you always have lunch together) when you finally find him.

“hey,” you say, hand going to his shoulder as you approach. satoru doesn’t flinch because he heard you coming. “not hungry?”

he just shakes his head.

and there’s something about him, sitting there with his legs spread out, chin resting on a hand, staring off into the distance like he’ll never be able to see far enough.

he looks like a boy, for just a moment. a boy you used to know well—a boy you fell in love with, almost a decade ago, now.

and you smile, but only a little. because it’s always been easy to be here with him, even when he’s this quiet, and even when his eyes are this haunted shade.

so you’ll sit there, sipping on some tea you brought out—a soda you brought satoru sitting between the two of you.

your thighs are just barely touching, hands inches away from each other. you could cozy up to him, remind him that everything is okay—somehow. but you won’t.

sometimes you just have to sit with it.

but eventually, you’ll start to get goosebumps for sitting outside for too long, and you can hear satoru sniffing as his nose runs.

so you sigh, looking to him. “satoru,” you whisper, voice lilted like you have a secret to share.

he looks over, face mercifully blank. “hmm?”

“will you marry me?”

and then satoru’s face stills. the air is calm, the wind shifting, and he turns right towards you.

it takes a couple of seconds, but his face is like the flash of a camera, sullen one moment, and lively the next.

his incoming smile is almost intoxicating.

“really?” he asks, almost breathless.

you laugh, moving over to him, finally wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your cold face into his neck. “next time you ask,” you tell him, “you better make it count.”

and satoru only smiles, wrapping an arm around you.

“okay,” he says.

[uc1wa]

xi hear me out. Taking Dick’s vcard like he’s super curious so he goes to you to ask for help n u r single handedly the catalyst that launches him into being a fratboy in college bc he wants to have sex that good again— so normal over this idea

and the crowd goes fucking crazy for cressie

tags: fem reader, virgin uni!dick, then... frat boy!dick lol, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex, pussy sniffin’ (for 2 seconds), fuckin' n fuckin' n fuckin', this became way longer than i intended... enjoy!

"are you ready?"

both of your hands hold dick’s shoulders, your knees holding your form up, the warmth of his cock hitting your bare entrance. weary and wide blue eyes watch you, looking up to yours as he nods. "please, please, can’t wait anymore," he begins in a whine, quickly recovering and adjusting his voice to a more even one.

did you ever think that your childhood best friend who went off to uni would be ringing you the week he got home for summer break? of course.

did you expect him to timidly ask you how to fuck during that phone call? never in a million years.

see, dick grayson’s first year of university was full of studying, staying in his dorm, and acing every exam. he went to school a good boy, and wasn’t tempted by parties, clubbing, or the mere idea to get a fake id. the last thing he cared about was girls, wanting nothing more than to make the dean's list.

he was a good boy, but that only went so far. dick realized at some point or another (specifically, when wally had a video called him telling about this girl he was fucking, dick was just slightly jealous) he had to lose his virginity. he wasn’t thirsty for pussy. he knew how to get himself off, but when measuring if he should hookup with a random from campus or you, the answer came easy.

a week into his summer break and he’d brought takeout to your place, the house he’d grown up going to. and when all was said and done, and you’d led him with a hand to your room, his cock was already hard in his pants.

but you didn’t rush, you taught him a woman’s pleasure before you’d decided to ride him. you helped him prepare yourself, his fingers exploring what was your entrance. calloused fingers rubbing and catching the feel of your most sensitive parts, memorizing the face you made when he experimentally curled his fingers. measuring how much pleasure stimulation on your clit gave you. and, as any good boy would, did exactly what elicited moans from you with his fingers alone.

and when you’d felt yourself ready, you decided riding him was the safest option. allowing him time to get adjusted to your hole and finding a slow pace that would make the both of you comfortable.

sinking down onto his length, you watched the way his eyes closed, black waves falling back as his neck fell backward. you felt so much better than his fist.

"ya-ya alright?" you ask, inching down until the man’s full length sits tightly inside of you, checking in with the man before you. and he nods, hands finding the fat of your hips as he begins attempting to lift you.

"p-please, jesus christ, need you to fuckin’ move," he moans, eyes meeting yours once more. without a single thrust, without a full ‘fuck’ yet, dick found himself pussy drunk over you.

the feeling of your sweetness surrounding him was something he could get a high off of, addiction setting in. but when you helped him lift your ass off of his thighs, he moaned your name and it was as sweet as honey the way it hit your ears.

"be nice," you fake-warn with a laugh, finding a small rhythm to fuck his length to, not missing the way dick’s eyes roam your body. from the way your tits bounced with every thrust, your lips that remained parted and the whines you executed, and the way your thighs spread atop his every time you brought yourself down.

dick thanked himself that he asked you to take his virginity. his sweet best friend fucking him like it was her job… could he find himself in a better situation?

the answer was easily yes. because, though dick grayson was a strong man, happy trail littering a strong abdomen and biceps and triceps that flexed every time he brought you down onto his cock, he was still a virgin.

so, when a loud and porn-worthy moan fell between his lips and you felt his cock twitch deep inside of you, you couldn’t blame the man.

red flushed his cheeks as he looked up to you, who found rest against his thighs, hands once more finding place on his shoulders. "fuck, sorry, you’re just… have thought about fucking you since forever," he wasn’t lying, and you slipped a hand to cradle his face.

"hey, you lasted longer than my ex," you remind with a laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, allowing him to come down from his high comfortably.

and every other booty call he gave you that summer was followed by apologies, the food he grabbed from a takeout restaurant, and a mind-blowing fuck.

so, it was only instinct that when he found himself on campus again, he had to find a replacement for you. though, hard, because nobody was you, he was more encouraged to go out. finding himself at a different frat party every other friday, finding a new girl to take to his apartment.

even with his imagination running wild, eyes closed as he attempted to imagine that every pussy was yours. that every ass was yours when he groped it. that every girl was you, he failed every time. nobody fucked him like you did, but that didn’t discourage him.

at the end of the day… he still liked fucking.

and with every frat party in his sophomore year of college, came with ideas of recruitment. flyers filled with infographics thrown at him and greek letters surrounding him.

wally liked his frat, talks of brotherhood and free booze. he wore his letters with pride, and it seemed that every house on campus wanted dick.

for good reason, too. who doesn’t want a tall, ripped, smart stud in their frat? can you imagine the bitches dick pulls from that alone?

and even when he gained his greek letters, found a new girl to fuck every day of the weekend, and consumed enough alcohol to grow his tolerance double from the time he entered his university, thanksgiving break comes around… and it comes around fast.

"hey," dick grayson, new recruit from his frat, says as he’s headed home for the week-long break. a few quick hours and he’s headed into the hometown you'd both grown up in.

"hey, dick," you say from the other line, sitting in your bed, already home for the time being.

"you free anytime this week? ‘m headed home now, will probably be there in the next hour," he says, and you notice a change in his voice. the man who was your best friend had a suaveness in his tone. a sultry seductiveness that you’d never heard leave his lips in all ten years of knowing him.

it’s hard to deny the fact that it made you want him to come to your house before he had the chance to drop his bags off, but... you weren't desperate.

"yeah, i’ve got a few free days," you reply and dick chuckles on the other line.

"hm, doin’ anything tonight?"

dick grayson, home for the holidays with a trunk full of comfortable winter clothes and coats, wasn’t a fucking animal. he went to his house, unloaded his trunk, and grabbed a bite to eat. greeted his adoptive father while a chunk of steak made its way down his throat and he stumbled to slide a pair of easy shoes on.

but, he also wasn’t going to deprive himself of you when he could only imagine you in your bed on the phone with him. when he visualized the way your legs looked in pajama shorts that he’d plan to slide to the side, a tank top that your nipples would poke out of.

oh god, in the few months away, he had matured; took him work to get hard. but when it came to you? the second you opened the door, his hands were holding you in all the places you’d missed him (after seeing your car was the only one in the driveway, of course).

"missed you," he breathed out in your mouth. mint mixed with some chocolate protein shake was all you could taste on his tongue. his mouth moved against yours skillfully, lips moving in a sloppy yet patterned way that had his tongue lapping up every taste of your saliva like a hungry dog.

you laugh, hands wrapping around his neck, pushing scruffy curls out of the way. longer hair than he usually sported, but fuck, did he make it look good. "missed me? or missed fucking me?" you correct, dick’s lips still pressed to yours as one hand knots itself in the back of your hair, his other hand following his brain waves.

the door? no, you deserved more than to be fucked against the hardwood of a fucking door. the couch? he debated falling to his knees while you stood leaning against the wall behind you, tongue salivating at the thought of tasting your sweetness again.

oh, your taste.

his legs made their mind up for him, quads spreading underneath black joggers as his knees hit the ground a little too rough. if you weren’t in a daze of him you’d cringe at the sound of him hitting the floor beneath him. instead, wide eyes looked down at him, finally taking a full look at the man.

maybe you were reminiscent of the first time you were with the man. when you were the one held by your knees as he stared at you with wide eyes. but, there was nothing curious nor naive held in his current gaze. his gaze that, even while on the lower level that his knees brought him, made you feel like prey to a wolf.

wavy and shiny black hair fell just short of his shoulders, some sort of a mullet that suited him in a way you couldn’t explain. the three greek letters of his newfound frat stitched into the navy crewneck that held a ring around his neck. adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the almost embarrassing build-up of saliva in his mouth.

"not here," you warn.

"yes here."

"dick, come to my fuckin-" you’re cut off by him leaning forward, nose hitting the spot where your own thighs met. skimpy shorts and underwear covering what he wanted most. and like a dog in damned heat, dick takes a long and deep smell of your womanhood, one that makes your hand fly to his hair and a groan leave the depths of his throat.

"are you fucking with me?" and dick chuckles. "you have no idea how much i missed your fuckin’ pussy. fucked a lot of girls this semester and none come close to you."

the sentence makes you cringe. if the man below you was attempting a seduction technique, he was failing miserably. "i don’t wanna hear about your other girlfriends when you have your face in me," another chuckle.

"want me to tell you what i think about when i jerk off?"

another cringe.

"no, you fucking freak," you groan while pulling at the hem of your shorts. dick is quick to help you, fingertips dipping under your underwear in the same movement, allowing them to fall in a pool around your ankles.

"think about fuckin' this pretty pussy," he starts, index finger finding your slit and collecting the wetness on it. "i think about being in this pussy, i think about licking you up and fucking all my cum in you," with every word his lips come closer.

with a lick of his upper lip, a rough hand falls underneath your thigh. guiding you to rest your leg over his shoulder, thick muscle holding you up as you let him maneuver your body. any means to get him to shut the fuck up.

his nose brushes against your womanhood, another deep inhale. "you got me whipped," dick laughs, moving forward while he sticks his tongue out. laying it flat while his fingers help to spread the lips of your entrance. and as soon as he sees the way you instinctively move the muscles that control your entrance, he just knows he has a wet patch of pre leaking from his cockhead.

"shut up," you say, words flowing easily until you inhale sharply when the flat of his tongue falls on your clit. it's hard to hold yourself up, and given the circumstances, you can only be half thankful that the man below you has graced you with muscles that held your partially standing form.

dick grayson, your childhood best friend who-just a few months ago had asked you to take his virginity-was clearly no longer a virgin. without knowing much other than what he's explicitly told you since he's walked inside your home, he has become a womanizer of sorts. a womanizer whose sweet spot was none other than you. because none of the girls he fucked were woman in the way you were.

your eyes peer down, and you're unsure if you're enjoying dick's tongue to the extent that he's giving you himself right now. his blue eyes closed and throat groaning as his mouth moves in ways that have your knees buckling and mouth falling agape. "h-holy fuck," you moan, and dick finds approval in that, palms gripping your soft flesh until one moves to begin playing with your entrance.

no consideration for teasing as the wetness of your core has his cock twitch in his joggers. he needs you, and he doesn't care if it's more than you do him.

though, based on the slick that's dripping from your pussy down his calloused fingers, it's hard to differentiate.

"missed me too, huh?" he asks, lips moving and humming against your sensitive clit, middle and ring finger gliding their way into your entrance with ease. "c'mon... tell me you think about me too," dick groans, too eager to allow you time to adjust to the lengths of his digits filling your hole. instead, finding a pace while he kisses your clit, eyes looking up and meeting yours.

"fuck... yeah, i think 'bout you," you begin, a hand finding his dark waves and tightening into a fist while the other attempts to hold yourself up against the painted wall you supported yourself against. "always think about how pretty ya looked," you moan with a small laugh, and dick meets your laugh, though his fingers never halt.

a small glint of appreciation can be read across his face as he admires yours. admires the hair that's beginning to stick to your face and your lips that are slowly swelling from the pressure of your teeth biting down on them.

"'m not gonna look pretty tonight," he says, the pace of his fingers slowing as he finds a scissoring motion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. with the help of his head, you straighten yourself once again, regaining composure as you repeat the words he said in your head.

"huh?" you question, and dick smirks something wicked.

"you took the reigns last time, 'm gonna fuck you all up tonight."

and dick grayson, no longer a virgin, no longer a pussy-less nerd, proved himself by staking claim on yours. because, even though he claimed he wouldn't look pretty for you tonight, the way he did when you rode him and introduced him to the world of sex, with sweat dripping off his forehead and onto yours, cum filling your pussy, and fucking you in every position he could think of, he looked ethereal.

dick grayson did as he said he'd do. he fucked you up for the rest of the break. he had you calling him for late-night dick appointments and had you slobbering on his cock just the way he had intended you to. dick had corrupted you in a way you'd never been before; finding yourself sitting and waiting for his call when summer would eventually roll through.

[kinkyrafe]

Completely F**** Out

Kinktober, October 24

THIS WORK IS 18+ ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary:

The one where you tire Rafe out completely.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, domme!reader, sub!rafe, very explicit

taglist: @yagirlwrites @audzzz @valyrianflower @aariahnaa

_

The two of you have been at it for what feels like an eternity. Rafe is sprawled across the bed, his muscles trembling with exhaustion. He just ate you out whilst you were sitting on his face until you were fully satisfied. Earlier, you had him on all fours, taking your fingers and toys deep inside him, edging him mercilessly before finally allowing him to cum untouched—twice. He’s already spent, his mind floating somewhere between bliss and complete overload, but you're far from done. Something keeps you going.

As he lies there, breathless and sated, he half expects the session to be over. His body has given all it can, or so he thinks. But as his breathing slows, you’re already preparing for more. With a playful gleam in your eyes, you tie his wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed, spreading him wide and leaving him fully exposed.

He looks at you in shock. 

“I'm not sure I can take any more,” he pants, still trying to catch his breath as you tighten the last knot. 

You let your hand trail from his ankle, gliding slowly up his leg, feeling the slight tremor under his skin. "Oh, I'm sure you can, babe," you say coyly, your voice smooth and teasing.

He groans deeply, partly because he loves this—being used by you in this vulnerable state—but partly because he's indeed unsure how much more his body can handle. Still, his cock remains rock hard, twitching at even the lightest touch.

"Don’t you finally want my hands on your cock?" you ask softly, your fingers dangerously close to his throbbing length, teasing him. His hips jerk involuntarily, his cock twitching in desperate need.

He laughs, a tortured, breathless sound. "I do," he admits, though you can hear in his voice there’s something more.

"But?" you prompt, letting your fingernails lightly scratch along the sensitive skin of his cock, just enough to tease but not to hurt. He jolts at the sensation, his body trembling in response.

"Nothing but," he blurts quickly, his need to please you overriding any protests.

For his quick answer, you reward him with a slightly firmer scratch at the head of his cock. The soft groan that escapes him is a mixture of pain and pleasure, his body fighting against itself.

“Do tell,” you demand, your voice firm but patient, enjoying the way his mind scrambles for the right answer.

"I want your hands on my cock, but I know you're gonna want more than just a quick handjob," he finally confesses, his breath shaky.

You chuckle softly, darkly. "You're right. I'm gonna want more than that. You have to work for every orgasm. You have to earn it. You know that, right?"

As you speak, your hand finally closes around the base of his cock, giving him the touch he's been craving all day. He lets out a shaky breath, knowing this is only the beginning. His body tenses, anticipation and dread building in equal measure. He turns his face into his arm, hiding from you, his voice a croak. "Right."

You gently take his chin, guiding his face back toward you. "No hiding, Rafe. Look at me," you command softly but firmly. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours, and he swallows hard, nodding.

"Tell me again, do you understand?"

His voice is clearer this time, though still shaky. "Yes, ma'am."

With a satisfied smile, you begin to stroke his cock with one hand, slow and deliberate, watching his body respond to your touch. He’s so sensitive, so responsive, and you can’t help but admire how easy it is to unravel him. Meanwhile, your other hand reaches for your toy collection. You know exactly what you're looking for—the dildo that has become one of his favorites and, coincidentally, one of your favorite tools to use on him.

Once you find it, you guide the tip to his entrance and, with one smooth motion, you push it inside him. The sudden fullness makes him cry out in a mix of surprise and pleasure. His body jerks, half wanting to pull away, half wanting to push back.

"It's big," he groans, his entire body trembling as he adjusts to the size. You watch as he struggles between the urge to flee from the intensity and the desire to fuck himself on the toy.

"Don’t tense up," you remind him sternly, your voice cutting through his haze.

He’s trying, but it’s clear from the way his muscles clench that he’s fighting a losing battle. “Is it the vibrating one?” he asks, his voice edged with panic and hope at the same time.

You smirk, knowing exactly how to push him. Without a word, you turn on the vibrations. The effect is immediate: his moan is loud, raw, almost obscene. His body trembles under the onslaught, the vibrations hitting all the right places.

“I’m close,” he croaks, his voice weak and desperate. His body is already reacting, pushing toward another orgasm.

“Already?” you mock, though there’s amusement in your tone. You press the dildo harder against his prostate, making sure the vibrations hit him just right. His body spasms, his toes curling as the pleasure overwhelms him.

“If you want to cum, you need to ask,” you say, your voice low, almost a purr.

“May I cum?” he pleads, his words rushed, desperate.

You tilt your head, pretending to consider it. “No, not yet,” you say simply, watching as his body shudders with frustration. You love seeing him teeter on the edge, trapped between pleasure and torment.

You continue to work him, pushing the dildo in and out of him, varying the pressure and angle to keep him guessing. His cock twitches in your hand, leaking steadily, his whole body trembling with the need to release. But you don’t let up, not yet.

“Remember, Rafe, what are the two things that will make me stop?” you ask, your voice suddenly serious, cutting through the haze of pleasure clouding his mind.

He blinks up at you, his chest heaving as he tries to focus on your words. “When…whenever you want, or if I safeword,” he manages to choke out.

You nod approvingly. “That’s right. And until one of those things happens, I’m going to keep playing with you.” You give the dildo another hard thrust, hitting his prostate dead on, and he lets out a loud, helpless moan.

—

As Rafe’s final orgasm crashes over him, his body goes completely limp, a deep, guttural moan slipping from his lips. The toy buried inside him trembles as his muscles tighten, and his cock throbs in your hand. He spills all over himself, shuddering violently as wave after wave of pleasure pulses through him. His breath is ragged, eyes half-closed, and his body twitching from exhaustion and overstimulation.

You smile to yourself, feeling the tension leave his body as he finally gives in to the pleasure, spent and vulnerable beneath you. For a moment, you simply watch him—taking in the sight of his flushed skin, the way his chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, the soft tremble in his legs. He looks utterly wrecked, yet undeniably beautiful.

Quietly, you remove the dildo from him, careful to be gentle now, knowing that even the smallest touch could be too much for him in this state. He flinches slightly, his eyes fluttering open, but you place a hand on his chest to calm him.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re done, babe,” you murmur softly, your voice no longer commanding but tender.

Rafe lets out a long, slow breath, his entire body sinking into the mattress. He’s still trembling, but this time it’s from the comedown—the gradual release of all the tension you’ve built inside him.

Carefully, you undo the knots at his wrists and ankles, freeing him from the restraints. His arms and legs fall limp, too exhausted to do anything but lie there. Once he’s untied, you softly stroke his skin where the ropes had been, soothing the faint red marks left behind. You can feel the subtle quiver of his muscles beneath your fingertips, still recovering from everything you’ve put him through.

He doesn’t say a word, but the soft sigh that escapes him speaks volumes.

When you’re sure he’s untied and comfortable, you leave him for a moment, moving quietly to grab a warm, damp cloth. You return quickly and begin gently wiping him down, your touch light and caring as you clean his chest, his stomach, his thighs. He winces a little when you get to his cock, still overly sensitive, so you take extra care to be gentle, pausing if he tenses too much. His eyes are half-closed, his breathing still a little uneven, but his expression is one of pure contentment.

You slip into bed beside him, reaching for the blanket, draping it over your bodies and pulling him close without saying a word. He lets out a soft, tired groan as you gather him into your arms, resting his head against your chest, his body wrapping automatically around yours. His body fits perfectly against yours even though he is taller than you. You somehow found a position to cuddle in where the two of you are both, big and little spoon, simultaneously—it's perfect. His breathing gradually evens out as you run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, calming strokes.

There’s a quiet intimacy in the room now, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of moments before. You don’t need to say anything, the silence is enough—filled with unspoken understanding, trust, and something deeper neither of you is quite ready to voice yet.

As you continue stroking his hair, Rafe shifts slightly, curling into you even more. His fingers, still trembling a little, find your hand and he squeezes it gently, a wordless acknowledgment of everything that just passed between you. You squeeze back, the gesture simple but filled with so much meaning.

“You okay?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” he hums, his face buried in the crook of your neck. There’s a softness in his tone that you don’t hear often—a vulnerability that he only shows in these quiet moments after you’ve taken him apart and pieced him back together. He’s completely relaxed, his body heavy with exhaustion but at peace.

You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, letting the quiet stretch out between you. His breathing becomes deeper, more rhythmic, and you can tell he’s close to falling asleep. But even as he drifts off, he stays wrapped around you, his body instinctively seeking your warmth, your presence.

Before his breathing evens out completely, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head, the gesture filled with affection. He stirs slightly, nuzzling closer in response.

“I’ll make sure you’re always this comfortable,” you whisper softly, knowing he’s too far gone to respond but saying it anyway. There’s no need for grand declarations, no need for words you’re not ready to say yet. The way you’re holding him, the way he clings to you even in his sleep—it’s enough. It’s more than enough.

As Rafe’s breathing deepens, and his body melts against yours, you feel an overwhelming sense of contentment wash over you. The connection between you is undeniable, even without the infamous three words. You stay there, holding him, watching as his chest rises and falls softly in sleep, and you know—this is how it’s supposed to be. 

Just before you drift off, you vaguely remember Rafe telling you once that he could never sleep with someone else in the room, which is why he never stayed over. Your heart nearly explodes when you open your eyes again, only to see this beautiful man fast asleep beside you.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Thank you for answering my sick reader request. Can I please ask for a part 2 wherein Yandere Nanami nurses his sick darling back to health and by the end of their sickness they at least trust them enough to sleep and cuddle beside them

I don't really like doing part 2s because I love seeing ppl suffer from cliffhangers, but I'll do it this one time.

And Let Yourself Heal

You don't find anything to say as Kento continues to be patient with you. This morning, he was up before you to cook you a warm breakfast. When you opened your already exhausted eyes, he was standing at your bedside with a wide tray of warm breakfast. He gently fed you every single mouthful, making sure you slowly chewed each bite, and even let you have a glass of strawberry lemonade since you insisted on one.

He tucked you under the sheets once more when you felt the urge to go back to sleep. And he was there when you woke up again midday to help bring you to the bathroom to clean yourself up. For once, he was actually respectful of your space and let you do what you needed without him hovering over you this time. He said he didn't want you stressed over nothing and how it's bad for a healing body to be pushed to its limits.

When you finished with your bathroom routine and got into freshly washed clothes, he had your favorite tv show on and had you sit on the couch with a cup of unsweetened tea to help your hunger before he finished with lunch. All of this for you. It almost seemed like he was overdoing it for you, but when you looked into his eyes, you could tell he meant every gesture from the heart. His sleeves have been rolled up since the morning and he doesn't plan to relax until the sun goes down and it's time for you to go to bed once more.

Your mind was clouded with judgement with how Kento was treating you, and couldn't focus on the show. Instead, you watched him chop the fruits and vegetables on the cutting board. He seemed to try and perfect every cut he made for the fruit so you can enjoy it to the fullest without any problems when eating it. And the vegetables were minced nicely before they went into the heated skillet. The aroma floating through the kitchen into the living room settled your heart in ways you didn't feel was possible.

Kento turned his head to check on you before double taking when he sees you already staring at him. A nervous smile spreads on his face as he brings you the chopped fruit. "You pestered me about getting these the last time I went grocery shopping, so I decided to get them for you this time. Take your time with these, please." He gently informs you, placing the bowl of fruit on the table in front of you before leaving back into the kitchen.

You felt conflicted by the time dinner started. You were sure Kento hasn't eaten all day and has been putting all of his time and energy into taking care of you. You really shouldn't feel like this, but you were worried. Worried he was taking it too far for you and for himself. You watch him carefully organize a bite on the plate onto the eating utensil with a small smile on his face before showing it to you for you to eat. You hesitate at first, but still take the bite, slowly chewing. "Are you alright? Is it not to your liking? More salt?" You shake your head and let him wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

"Then what is it?" He mutters and gives you your cup of water. You hesitate to tell him, but then settle for telling him the half truth. "Maybe a little more garlic next time." He nods in appreciation and gathers another bite for you. When you blink, it's bedtime. For some reason, he always seemed to know when you naturally get drowsy at night, and makes that your scheduled bedtime. He's currently folding the covers underneath your chin for you to be the most comfortable when you sleep. His steady hands carefully take in every detail of the sheets to make sure you're alright.

You turn your back to him, closing your eyes to finally rest. When he finishes, he sits back up and rests is hands on his lap with a content sigh. You were way more compliant than any other time he's tried to take care of you. Maybe you were finally turning over a new stone, allowing him to show you the love you deserve and need. He stares at you from a distance, the distance he's always wanted to close. And without thinking, his hand raises back up on its own and gently rubs at your back. But you don't do anything. You didn't seem to tense up at all when he did this and Kento felt his heart leap with excitement.

Without trying to bother you, he decides to try and push it further. He waits a few moments and stops touching you before scooting closer to you. Nothing. With gentle movements, he lays down on the same side you're laying on and stares at your backside. And if he stares long enough, he'll realize that this is exactly how it looks in his dreams to lay in bed with you. This is genuinely all he's ever wanted. He refuses to ruin this moment by touching your waist or arms. He'll wait until you allow him to move closer to you. Allow him to touch your face, your sides when you're awake. And maybe then, he will have your consent to make the relationship bloom into something even more.

[zeezelweazel]

Alexia Putellas| Wrong place wrong time|

______________________________________

Tumblr decided to be a pain in the ass again and for some reason didn't let me edit my drafts so I'm creating new ones. Sorry to all the people that requested something and it got lost in my drafts, blame Tumblr.

Pt 2 here → With all the time in the world

TW: semi public sex, oral (Alexia receiving), dirty talk

____________________________________________________

Training was especially tiring today, given that you've just came back from national break. But you have a champion's league game in a few days. You feel Ingrid patting your shoulder as she gives you a smile that screams 'I know, me too'. You continue sipping on your water as you make small talk with the tall Norwegian.

After a few minutes training is pronounced over and you groan as you're finally able to take of your sweaty clothing. You throw your shirt somewhere in the training room, making a note to pick it up later, and you search through your bag for a clean shirt. When you find your favourite sweatshirt that you stole from Alexia's closet you move to throw your sweaty shirt in the training bag. Before you're able to put on the fresh garment a hand roughly pulls you back. You're met with Alexia's dark eyes but have no time to question anything before the captain pulls you away.

"Alexia, hey! I still don't even have my shirt on! Where are we even-"

Suddenly Alexia pushed you to the nearest wall and placed a hot needy kiss on your lips. You quickly recovered from your initial shock and kissed back gripping Alexia's hips and pulling her closer to you. The blonde whimpered against your lips and started grinding her hips up against you, without being able to find the much needed friction she was hoping for. Oh, so that's what this is about.

You push Alexia back and smirk when she whines at the loss. You normally love to tease her when she gets all needy like this but there's no time now. You're both still standing in the hallway, were anyone could walk by and see you still topples. You mirror her action from before and pull Alexia with you, opening a random door and closing it behind you. It was a storage room, probably. You didn't have any time to look around because the moment the door closed you pushed Alexia against it.

She whimpered against your lips when you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. She tried to keep up but you were practically devouring her. After a few seconds you got impatient and with a final bite to her lower lip you moved away and slightly lower to nip at her earlobe. Alexia gasped and slightly moved her head to the side. You smirked at her desperate reaction.

"Couldn't wait to go home and get fucked properly, huh? Is your pretty pussy dripping for me?"

Alexia bit her lip at your hushed whispers. She answered your question when her thighs clenched tightly and rubbed against eachother. She really didn't know how she got so wet. Watching you train, your muscles highlighted with sweat and then seeing your abs when you pulled your shirt off...

Alexia almost moans at the mere memories of you. You push your hand under her shirt to squeeze at her breasts and Alexia moans quietly, looking at you with wide pleading eyes.

"Want me to fuck you against the door?"

You asked when you pressed your body closer, effectively trapping her between you and the metal of the door. Your heads had found themselves under the fabric of her sports bra and you immediately took a nipple between your fingers and tugged.

"Yes! Please, fuck, I need you."

Alexia thought she was going to combust from the need to be touched. She looked at you desperately, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes and you couldn't resist anymore. Without a single warning you dropped down on your knees and pulled Alexia's sweatpants and panties down in one go. Alexia immediately spread her legs as far as they could go, with the fabric down her legs restricting her movements. You chucked at her eagerness and brought your hands up to caress her strong thighs. Not wanting to tease the blonde you immediately went into action.

When you leaned in and placed a short and light kiss on her clit Alexia moaned, loud enough so anyone walking outside could hear. You only smirked against her cunt and slowly dragged your tongue between her folds. Alexia moaned again, this time it was a high pitched sound, almost like a whine. You moved your mouth quickly this time going from her clenching hole up to her swollen clit. It was pulsing and begging for attention but you decided to go ignore it for now, opting to move down to her tight opening and tease. Alexia had moved one of her hands to tangle in your hair while the other tried, and failed, to muffle her moans.

You continued devouring her pussy like it was your last meal on earth and Alexia was getting more desperate for release. She started rolling her hips against your face in a pathetic attempt to get off. You growled in warning after a particularly hard thrust pushed her pelvis on your nose painfully. Alexia was so far gone she couldn't control her desperate movements so you moved your hands from her thighs to roughly grab her ass, squeezing the soft flesh and using it as leverage to keep her hips still. Alexia whimpered at your rough touches and her knees buckled.

Soon enough her thighs started closing down around your head, a clear sign that Alexia was close to coming. You suddenly paused when you heard something over Alexia's muffled moans. Alexia whined and looked down at you, eyes confused and pleading. She tried to push your head back to her cunt but the sound of cleats rapidly hitting the cemented floor broke the horny atmosphere.

"You think she lost us?" Aitana.

"I don't know but we're dead if she finds us." Ona.

You don't know what the two young friends did but sounds like their in trouble. You looked up at Alexia, who's eyes were filled with tears at the sudden interruption. You know how much Alexia hates being edged, especially when she's this needy.

"We have to hide somewhere, quickly. How about this room?"

Alexia's eyes widen in fear when she hears Aitana's words and shakes her head slightly as if the girls in the other side of the wall would somehow get the message. You hate how Alexia's attention has shifted to what's happening outside so you bite the inside of her thigh and the captain barely contains a loud moan by bitting her lip. She looks down at you with a shocked expression and just as you're about to dive in again you hear another booming voice in the hallway.

"There you are! No- don't run away from me, I'll get you!"

Thank god for Mapi.

You don't waste a second before you dive back in. Alexia was distracted from the interruption and the fear of getting caught so when you sucked her clit into your mouth she threw her head back so hard you were worried she got a mild concussion and moaned loudly.

"Fuck, just like that! Please, I need to come."

You continue licking her up, slurping all her juices as Alexia squirms under your strong hold, moaning uncontrollably. It only takes a few more moments before her thighs start squeezing your head once more. You brush your teeth against her clit and your nails wrack down her ass and Alexia's eyes roll back in her head and she comes with a silent scream.

Her cum spills down your face and you don't stop, your tongue working between her folds and dipping in her hole before coming back up at her clit. It's sensitive and pulsing so when your tongue touches it Alexia yelps and pushes your head away slightly. You take the hint and rise up to meet her lips in a heated kiss, your tongue pushing it's way into Alexia's mouth. You smirk against her lips when Alexia moans as she tastes herself in your tongue.

Alexia is left panting against the door barely able to stand. When she opens her eyes she grins at you with that just fucked look that you absolutely love and it takes everything you have in you not to jump on her again. Instead you caress her face and smile when she leans in your touch. You press a quick kiss on her forehead and move down to whisper in her ear.

"When we get home I'll make sure to fuck so good you won't be able to walk for days."

____________________________________________________

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 23

Prompt: Bondage Pairing: dom!rigger!Hyunjin x fem!sub!reader   WC: 2k Summary: The contract exists for both of your comfort and safety. Sometimes that really fucking sucks. This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Hyunjin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

CW/TW: traffic light system, scene is stopped(red is used), subspace, shibari as therapy, vague contract mentions, dry humping, taking photos in compromising positions, dirty talk, a lot of build up for not much pay off ya’ll.

I tried to do my best with showing a scene where a safety word is used and the scene stops because I feel like we don’t really see a ton of that in smut.

 The rope is purple and silky. You usually used red, it was what you’d seen most online but Hyunjin insisted on purple this time. It would go better against your complexion, he said. Just looking down over your intricately knotted body, you could tell he was right after all.  He smirks as you look over your shoulder to make eye contact with him. “You trust me enough to tie you up in all sorts of positions but don’t trust my eye for color.”  “I’m just used to the classics.”  “Was I wrong?” He circles you, eyes tracing the latticework of your chest harness.  “No, no but-”  Hyunjin casually interrupts you, “then if you’re satisfied so far get onto the bed and we’ll do the hips and legs.” He’s not obviously dominant. Not especially tall or loud or strong. His confidence carries off his tone in such a way that you find yourself sitting into the mattress without a second thought. “You’re being so good for me today.” He quips, carefully folding your leg up to bind your calf to your thigh. Two fingers slip underneath the rope as he carefully loops and wraps the full way down, his fingers are cooler than your thighs. The methodical and meticulous manner he does each knot is calming. Or maybe it’s the hard hug of the chest harness dulling your nervous system.  Hawkish as he looks over his work. You squirm, “your breath tickles,” you offer as an excuse. In reality your heart is thumping suddenly, irrationally. You don’t trust many people but you trust him. Focusing on the way the ropes tighten across you as you breathe, you count in your head.  Hyunjin’s hand touches your shoulder. Your eyes flutter open, you didn’t even realize they were closed. “Color?”  “Green,” a whisper in your heart says yellow. It’s not the ropes that have you nervous. It’s not the restraints. The restraints are the only thing keeping you grounded. Don’t fall for your platonic rigger, you begged yourself. Don’t fuck this up. He doesn’t like you like that, it’s his job, his hobby.  “You’re not as talkative today. Is it okay?”  You try a hand wavy easy answer. “It’s been a week. I’ve been looking forward to this.” Short and uncomplicated and complimentary.  “Mhm, good to know our sessions are helpful for you too.” Hyunjin’s gaze flicks back to the ropes. Sliding two fingers and slightly realigning one of the bars of rope, generally fussing where none needed to happen. “I like these two ties for a couple reasons. Obviously both are aesthetically pleasing.”  Hyunjin slides his hands under two of the thicker knots at the center of your chest and tugs you forward, legs spreading wide and nose almost to the belt of his pants. Your mouth drops, mind slipping into a haze.  “The second reason is both are incredibly practical for positioning. I could teach you them if you want. Both you could self-tie.” Hyunjin continues to smile down at you seemingly oblivious to the mess he’s made.  You shake your head no, unwilling to use the brainpower to respond with words.  “It must've been a rough week, I don’t think I’ve seen you slip like this before.” Hyunjin’s hand cups your chin as you lay weight into his palm. You float, eyes glazed, kept safe in his warm grasp. Safe was a term you used so infrequently and yet tied up at the mercy of this man you felt it fully. A man you only really knew in this context and nothing more, only a life within the directives of your agreement. But you like the way he makes you feel small and precious, like a piece of art to behold.  Stepping back to admire his work, your chin drops. You miss the warmth. “Really my best work yet I think. The purple…” he tsks lightly. “And to think you were fighting me on the purple.” Eyes raking your body you feel it, the swell of your mound, the wanting deepening in your core. “Do you mind if I take a picture? I promise it won’t have your face in it.”

 Not a part of the contract.  Tongue numb and heavy in your mouth you nod.  The thought flits across your mind, “I’d do anything for you to keep looking at me like that.”  Hyunjin’s hand cards through your hair, gently pulling your head back with it. “Even though your face isn’t in the photos I’d love to see the column of your neck just like that. Makes the line of your body look just lovely.”  It’d look even better with your cock in it.  Heat creeps up the shell of your ears. He looks at you longer than you expect, his hand lingers just a little longer than feels necessary. Although what, of any of this, is necessary? You feel yourself going a little crazy as your ignored cunt throbs.  “Are we comfortable?” Hyunjin finally turns from you, the zipper of his tool kit jangling as he assembles his camera. You don’t respond, still posed perfectly as he’d set you. His eyes travel to your hands, still long and loose, no tapping which he’s trained himself to notice when you’re like this. Finger wiggles meant uncomfortable, two distinct taps meant stop. It had developed naturally.  Squatting next to you a few feet away the shutter clicks. You inhale sharply.  “That’s it, let me see how the rope holds you,” he encourages you as your hips tilt and your binding presses into your skin. Not so secretly you pray for some of the pressure in your gut to release, your cunt pulsing and starting to leak. A small frustrated whine sits in the back of your throat. “That’s my girl, you’re sitting so lovely for me,” his praises continue in the flurry of clicks. “Move your body really slowly for me, focus on the drag of the cables. Really focus on slowly letting them dig into you.”  As you slowly shift around you follow his instructions, feeling how tilting one way or the other will tug and slacken opposite sides. The sturdiness of his knots never feel constrictive, instead like a silken steel frame to hold you up. Like an armor almost. You barely notice the clicking has ceased and the only sound in the room is that of your small whines and his reedy breathing.

 Hyunjin knows he needs to focus. For both of you. You, who is so fragile in his hands. So willing to give in where he knows it’s hardest for you. Yet here he is, palms sweating like a schoolboy, mouth cottony dry. “I have an idea for another shot if you’re willing.”  You look at him with cloudy lusty eyes, nodding almost innocently as you slowly hump the air. He could take you so easily like this.  “Before you agree you should hear what it is,” he tsks. As much as it sounds like he’s only scolding you, most of the judgment is internal. “I need to slot my leg between yours. Your mouth, chest, and thighs will be visible. And of course, my pants.”  You nod with a whine.  Hyunjin’s stomach drops as he approaches you and slides his leg close. He’s used to being close to you. He’s used to being close to you when you are deep in subspace. Even when you don’t know how wet and glistening your thighs have become he’s never had this issue. He’s almost glad for the constriction of his pants, unyielding fabric forcing his cock to his body. The camera lens between you works like a shield, separating himself from the scene.  “I bet you’d look good grinding on my shoe.”  You moan, head tilting back as you hips move forward, threatening to breach the contract.  He gasps as the shutter clicks, both your bodies arcing together into an ambiguous darkness. Hyunjin hadn’t meant to say it out loud.  “You like that, don’t you?” He asks tentatively. This isn’t exactly against the contract but it certainly is a new territory. “Want me to tell you more about how beautiful you look?”  You moan again, collarbone broadening as your chest heaves.  “Whoever gets to cum on those lips of yours is blessed,” his hand reaches forward, forgetting his place for a moment. “They’re already so perfectly glossy just with your spit. I bet they’re soft and warm too.”  Your tongue presses into your lower lip, tip flexing to leave a small inviting reservoir that you hope he takes advantage of. Every muscle is practically screaming and begging for him to cave into your unvoiced desires. Your forehead wrinkles as your brows furrow, wishing for a sudden telepathic link to tell him everything you need.  Hyunjin’s knuckles are white as he grips his camera. The heat of your body is so close to him. It would be so easy for him to take advantage of his. His heart seizes as his cock throbs. Pliant and needy and trusting and right there in his grasp.  Neither of you are sure who closes the gap but the second you touch it feels like wires shorting. Every neuron in both of your bodies fizzles and spits. Sparking and burning as you inhale ecstatically and Hyunjin recoils.  “Red,” Hyunjin says, almost breathless. Pacing back to his bag of tools to set his camera down. “I’m sorry I need to end the session here.” The next thing you know your feel the cool metal of safety scissors cutting into the delicate rope.  Though you’re still dopey, concern bubbles in your chest. “These ropes are expensive, let me-”  Hyunjin shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that.” Guilt settles in his stomach. He was so close. That trust you both had built he was so close to ruining. His blood is icy, shocked into sluggishness. There were so many normal steps that were skipped when he called to halt the scene. Though calling to end the scene was right, he feels like crying.  You wrap the fuzzy robe set in the corner of the room around yourself. Footsteps falling softly on the floor you ask, “do you want to be the little spoon or the big spoon?”  “Can you just put your head on my chest and hold me for a bit?”  Nodding, you sit and wait for him on the edge of the bed. Your heart seizes and pangs in an un-platonic way as he settles back on the other side of the bed. Had he asked others for aftercare like this? Not that it should matter to you.  “That was intense,” you whisper, trying to sound nonchalant.  “I’m sorry. I got too-”  “I liked it. If that helps.”  He chuckles disconcertingly, eyes to the ceiling. “We have pretty specific terms of our agreement and I-” he stops and considers his next words carefully. “-I had to step back.”  You nestle closer into his side. His slight frame doesn’t make a particularly good pillow but it doesn’t bother you much. “Intense isn’t bad it’s just I-”  Quiet settles over the both of you. Now you’re the one considering your next words as you feel your heart skip several beats. “That’s why I trust you, if that helps. We can always revisit the terms. Now that we know each other. We can revise them.”  His laugh bounces your head. “Right. We can revise them.”

I tried to do my best with showing a scene where a safety word is used and the scene stops because I feel like we don’t really see a ton of that in smut.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Widow Timestamp: I Love You

Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Jared Padalecki Character for @j3bingo 

Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, fingering, hand job, p in v.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: My first journey into Sam smut… please be kind 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up with The Widow here!

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SAM’S POV

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says as he answers his phone.

“Sammy, you better not bail on me tonight,” Dean grumbles, getting straight to the point as always.

“I’ll be there,” he responds. Honestly, the week he’s had at work, meeting his dad and brother at a bar on a Friday night is the last thing he wants or needs right now. A night lounging in sweats, eating Chinese food, and watching a movie he didn’t need to use too much brain power for, is what he really wants to be doing.

“Good. Just checking. Can only get you away from the office if it’s for your girl these days, so…” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles. “Sorry about that. She, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, lost in thoughts of his girlfriend.

“I know, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the smile in his older brother’s voice. “She can’t come, right?” he checks. 

“No, it’s her friend’s birthday, so they’re having a girls night,” Sam says, sounding slightly less enthusiastic than he meant to. 

“What’s the matter? Y/N got you so pussy whipped already that you can’t stand the thought of being away from her for one night?” Dean laughs, and Sam chuckles along with him.

His brother isn’t completely wrong. He and Y/N have been dating for almost three months and are blissfully in the honeymoon period of their relationship, where they can’t get enough of each other or bear to be apart for too long.

“No, it’s… I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office. And it’s the firm’s family day tomorrow, so I’ll see Y/N then, anyway.”

“That’s right. She’s meeting all the big guns for the first time! Are you nervous?” Dean asks, and Sam sighs loudly.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be. I mean, who cares if they like her, right? Because I do, and that’s all that matters. It’s just… if I want to make partner one day, things like stable relationships and who your other half is seems to have a say in it,” Sam admits.

“They’re gonna love her, man. I think it’d be hard for anyone not to fall in love with her,” Dean reassures him. “You found a good one, Sammy. Hold onto her.”

“I know, I will.”

Despite his earlier reluctance to spend the night in a bar with his dad and brother, Sam is having a great time. With work and Y/N, it’d been a while since he’s spent this much time with them, making him feel a little guilty.

Sam’s worries about his dad and Dean teasing him about ‘his girl’ are quickly dampened when his dad asks if things are serious between them. Both men had smiled and clapped him on the back at his confirmation that it was and that he was confident she was it for him. The only slightly teasing remark so far has been from his dad.

“Better start saving for a ring, son,” John chuckles.

With both men grinning at him like idiots, Sam feels a hand slide across his shoulders. “I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend,” he says without turning around.

“No, I’m flattered,” Y/N responds, and he smiles before turning to face his girlfriend. “And very reassured.”

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought girls’ night was across town?” Sam asks as he stands to kiss her.

“Well,” Y/N huffs with a roll of her eyes. “It was, and we were having a great time, but Charlie dragged us all the way over here because she found out the girl she’s crushing on works here. And, you know, can’t say no to the birthday girl!”

“Well, can’t say I’m not happy about that,” Sam chuckles, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and glances down his body before she speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear plaid before. I like it. It’s a good look on you,” she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Noted,” Sam chuckles, and Y/N giggles.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this lovey-dovey bullcrap. Makes me wanna vomit,” Dean winks to show his jest and stands from the table. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

“No, thanks,” Y/N shakes her head. “I have one waiting for me at my table and probably three tequila shots by now. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”

“Do you, uh, wanna come to my place when you’re, you know?” Sam asks quietly, hoping it’s quiet enough that only she can hear him. His dad’s chuckle and Dean’s slap on the back, and a “Get it, Sammy!” make him want a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.

Y/N laughs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment before he watches her take a deep breath and pull herself together.

“I’d love to, Sam. But the cardinal rule of girls night is that you can’t bail on girls night. Especially for a guy. You know that, right? It’s the whole ‘chicks before dicks’ thing. So, there is no way I’m getting to sneak away from that,” Y/N points to the table of women laughing loudly and downing shots, “before midnight.”

“I’ll wait up,” Sam grins charmingly with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, watching Y/N’s facial expressions intently as she takes in and interprets his meaning.

“Well, alright then. Guess I’ll see you later,” Y/N said, biting on her plump bottom lip.

“Yeah, you will. Have a good night, baby,” Sam leans down and presses another kiss to her lips.

“You too,” Y/N smirks, pulling Sam down by the lapels of his shirt for one last kiss. “It was good to see you again, John,” she smiles as she reluctantly parts from Sam.

“And you, sweetheart,” John smiles. “You’ll be over for dinner on Sunday, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N returns his smile before turning her attention to the eldest Winchester son. “Dean, that table,” she gestures in the general direction of where her friends are, “is out of bounds.”

“What? But why? Come on, Y/N! There are some real hotties over—” Dean tries, but Y/N’s warning scowl and raised eyebrow make him back down.

“I mean it, Dean! I don’t want my friends badgering me for your number, or with questions about what they did wrong, or asking me to ask Sam to ask you why you didn’t call,” Y/N chuckles.

“Fine,” Dean huffs in resignation before walking over to the bar.

“Good. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Y/N’S POV

12:45am

The cab pulls away from the curb, and you walk up the path to Sam’s house. Stopping at the door, you take a second to fluff your hair. You’ve never been like this before; never bothering too much about your appearance and certainly never for a guy. Still, you found yourself touching up your makeup and perfume before leaving the bar to come over here, making sure you look perfect for him.

You ring the doorbell and nervously shuffle from foot to foot, wondering if the butterflies you feel with Sam will ever go away. You hope not, as the flutter turns into a swarm when you hear the door unlocking.

“Hey, baby,” Sam smirks, eyes slowly taking in every inch of you. “Glad you came.”

“Well,” you grin as Sam steps to the side, inviting you into his home. “I know what kinda night I’m in for, and I would be a fool to miss out on this.” You trail your fingers up his chest, grab the neck of his t-shirt, and pull him down to meet your lips, kicking the door closed behind you.

Sam pushes his tongue into your mouth and shoves you against the door. He quickly turns the lock, shutting you in for the night. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you whimper as his fingers tug at the zip of your dress.

You shimmy the material down your body and let it pool at your feet, leaving you only in cobalt blue lace underwear. Sam growls, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, as his lips find their place on your cleavage, licking and sucking your skin.

Sam’s hand trails up your back and into your hair, pulling it hard enough to force your head back and gain access to your neck. He sucks and nips gently, cautious not to leave a mark, knowing tomorrow is an important day for both of you.

“Sam,” you groan, and fuck, is it the neediest and most pathetic you’ve ever heard yourself. “Need you.”

“Yeah?” Sam rasps, his voice deepened with lust. “Right here, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasp, already breathless, and he’s barely touched you yet.

Sliding his hand over your thigh and pushing it between your bodies, Sam pulls your underwear to the side and, without warning, shoves two fingers inside you. He barely lets you adjust to the intrusion as he immediately begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your tight, wet channel, smirking as you moan his name. 

Curling his fingers inside you, he watches your head fall back and thump against the door. “Fuck,” you grunt, your hands dropping from his shoulders and desperately fumbling with his belt. You love it when Sam builds the pleasure and teases you, but you can’t, not tonight. Tonight you need him now.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” Sam chuckles, but you don’t stop undoing his pants, finally pulling his belt loose and moving quickly to the button on his jeans.

With his jeans finally undone, your hand delves into his boxers and finds their prize. Sam is already fully hard, and you grip his cock and pump your fist as best you can while pinned against his door.

Sam growls when your thumb swipes over his sensitive head, turning you on even more. The wet sound that gets louder and louder with every pump of his fingers inside you should embarrass you, but instead, you moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Sam groans lowly into your ear. “I need to be in you.”

“Yes! Please, Sam,” you whimper as his fingers suddenly leave you empty and wanting. He pulls your hands off his cock and teases your clit with its tip before he pushes inside you in one slow thrust.

“Shit,” you whine, still not used to his generous length stretching and filling you so completely. You’ve never had anyone reach so deeply within you, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Sam holds himself fully sheathed inside you, this time allowing your fluttering walls time to stretch to accommodate him, and his lips find yours in a passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.

The second you feel yourself relax around him, he pulls out to the tip and slams back in, punching the air from your lungs. He doesn’t let up, pounding into you ferociously, and your high builds quickly.

Sam’s large hands grip your thighs, and you groan loudly, trying to remember to choose a long dress or pants to wear tomorrow because you can already feel bruises forming where his fingertips are digging into your soft muscle.

It’s become one of your favourite things; the colourful little bruises that litter your skin thanks to his groping hands. He’s an animal in the bedroom, but when it’s over, he always places soft kisses on every mark he leaves in his carnal state.

“Sam, I’m close,” you whine as you slide your hands into his hair and tug on the long strands.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. I can feel it,” Sam says through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you, and you growl in frustration, tugging his hair harder to emphasise your displeasure.

“What the—? Sam, come on! I was nearly there!” You whine, pouting at him when he chuckles, tightening his grip on you and walking towards the sofa.

“I know, and I wanna watch you,” Sam smirks, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Watch me?” you murmur breathlessly.

“I wanna watch you come, and I wanna do it while you ride me.” Sam’s lopsided smirk creates another pool of wetness in your core, and you seem to have lost the ability to speak. “Is that alright, baby?” You nod and gulp, your words still failing you.

“Alright,” Sam says as he unwraps your legs from his waist and puts you down on shaky legs. He pulls your underwear down enough that it falls to your feet before ridding himself of all his clothing.

“Then get riding.” He smacks your ass, sits on the couch, and waits for you to climb onto his lap. You stretch your arms behind your back, ready to unclasp your bra, but Sam clicking his tongue stops you.

“Uh uh, baby. Leave it on,” Sam grins, and you smirk as you finally climb onto his lap and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and sinking down slowly. When your skin meets his, your head falls back with a gasp.

Sam’s hands drag up your body, pausing to toy with your nipples behind the blue lace. He slides the straps down your shoulders, exposing your hardening buds to the cool air briefly before his lips cover one and his hand the other.

Raising your hips up and down his length, you find a rhythm and angle that lets you feel every ridge of him glide perfectly between your walls, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars.

“Sam, baby, I…” You grind your hips through your orgasm, and Sam grunts as your walls clench him.

“That’s it, good girl,” Sam murmurs, kissing your sweat-slicked chest. “Hold onto me, baby.” He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders; you know it’s his turn now, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

Sam lifts you and lays you on the couch, moving your hands from his shoulders and placing them above your head, trapping them with just one of his own. His other hand grips your thigh and pushes it, forcing your legs to open wide for him.

The first thrust is heaven, hitting everywhere all at once, and you and Sam’s grunting confirms that your walls are still fluttering, clenching, and sucking him in.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” Sam groans, his hips moving impossibly faster and pushing in deeper and deeper.

Your eyes roll, and you scream Sam’s name as he sends you soaring over the edge again, taking him with you.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam gasps, grinding himself into you, and you feel his release coat your quivering walls. “Fuck, my girl’s got a good pussy. So fucking good, baby.” You’d giggle at his praise if you hadn’t lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.

Sam drops his head to your chest, kissing over every inch as he grinds against your cervix. You moan with every twitch of him inside you, and when his kisses turn to bites and sucks, you add a high neckline to the list of requirements for tomorrow’s outfit.

He lets go of your hands, and they instantly go to him, wrapping around his back and holding him against you for a little longer.

“I love you,” Sam says, leaving your breasts alone to look at you.

“Yeah?” you smile widely. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and it feels good. It feels right. “You’re not just saying that in your post-orgasmic haze?” you chuckle.

“No. I have for a while now. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

Tags: @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @octoberclidan @nelachu2423 @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

[galaxymagitech]

A Passing Grade in Trust Issues

(Whumpuary 2025 - Day 5)

Summary:

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asks.

The answer is no, then it's yes, and then, after one betrayal too many, it's no again.

Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson

You can read it here or on AO3.

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asks.

The answer, of course, is no. Tim is training as Robin because he doesn’t trust Batman. But Tim is aware that this is a test, and in order to pass, he has to say yes, and in order to become Robin, he has to pass.

So, he steels his voice, holds the communicator close to his lips, and lies to Batman for the first time.

“Yes,” Tim says. “Of course I trust you.”

“Hn,” Bruce grunts. “Then turn off the comms and cowl stream. This conversation needs to be unmonitored.”

Tim’s hand hovers over the button. Turning off the comms would leave Batman without backup—as terrible of a backup as a half-trained Robin is. It’s horribly against procedure, and dangerous to boot. But—

But this is a test, and Tim intends to pass.

“Turning comms and stream off,” he says, and presses the button, watching the batcomputer screen go dark. Tim sits alone in the Batcave and waits.

***

“But don’t you trust them?” Tim wonders as he stares at Bruce’s contingency plans. He gets plans to take the Justice League down in case of mind control—it’s certainly a common enough problem—but Bruce has made predictions of his fellow heroes actions and then planned his own reactions to take them down. This isn’t about a mind-controlled Justice League. This is a series of plans to take down Bruce’s colleagues. His friends.

“No, Tim, I don’t.”

“But it’s Superman. And that’s Wonder Woman. And—”

“Trust is a weakness, Tim. We’re human. A single hit can take us out. All it takes is one moment where we let our guard down, and that’s it.” Bruce shakes his head. “Trust is what gets us killed.”

“Is that what…” Tim trails off, his gaze falling on Jason’s memorial case. “Okay, Bruce.”

***

“Do you trust me?”

Tim stands on the edge of the burning rooftop, looking at the long fall below him. Batman is nowhere in sight, off fighting Firefly a few blocks down.

Tim tries to trust Bruce. Ever since he’s become Robin, Bruce has always had his back. But it’s hard, when he’s so far above the ground and Bruce is asking him to—to jump. Tim doesn’t want to die, okay? He knew it might happen, but—he’s not going to literally jump to his death.

And yet, this is Batman asking. Batman always has a plan.

“Yes,” Tim says, and it’s not really a lie this time. “I trust you.”

He spreads his arms wide and takes a leap of faith.

Falling through the air, Tim closes his eyes and hopes that his thoughts don’t go blank. His heart races, and he knows the ground is getting closer, closer, clo—

Somebody’s arms wrap around Tim’s torso, jerking him into an upswing. Tim’s eyes snap open and he sees Dick smiling down at him. Oh, Tim thinks. So Bruce did have a plan. Really, Tim was dumb for even doubting in the first place. Bruce would never tell anyone to jump to their death. What was he even thinking?

“Sorry about that, Baby Bird,” Dick says as he deposits Tim on a nearby rooftop. Below, firefighters begin to extinguish the flames. “Firefly’s got a hacker on our comm frequencies, and B couldn’t tip him off that I’m in town.”

“Right,” Tim says, feeling like an idiot. Next time, he won’t make the mistake of questioning Batman’s judgement.

***

“But I trust them!” Tim protests. “They’re literally superheroes.”

“This is not a discussion,” Bruce says harshly. Tim winces. “Your secret identity is your life, and you must guard it like such.”

“Then just one of them, at least,” Tim says. “You can even choose which one. Please, Bruce. Can’t someonemy age know? Dick had the Ti—”

“The Titans were a mistake.”

Tim’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Dick is too trusting. He should never have revealed his identity to them. It put him in terrible danger—that Markov girl could have done so much damage.” Bruce shakes his head. “I thought better of you, Robin.”

“I—”

“No,” Bruce says. “I’m disappointed that you even suggested this, let alone continued arguing. You barelyknow those children. It’s ridiculous to trust them.”

Tim wilts under the force of Bruce’s glare. “Okay, B.”

“It’s for your own good,” Bruce says.

Tim’s team members don’t even know his name, and Ives and Zoanne don’t know that he’s Robin. He has two sets of friends, but he’s more alone than ever.

And yet, Bruce is the expert on secret identities. If he says not to tell, Tim won’t tell. He trusts Bruce.

***

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Tim says, without hesitation, without doubt. He is Robin, and this is Batman.

“Then don’t tell Dick about this. I can’t have him interfering in this case.”

Tim doesn’t understand. Dick—Dick deserves to know. This is about his weird archenemy, after all. But, well… “Alright, B,” Tim says.

Three days later, and an injured Dick and an extremely frustrated Bruce are having their monthly screaming match. Tim sits in the corner of the Batcave and tries to ignore it. He could go upstairs, could put on headphones, could do any number of things to keep from hearing the words they’re hurling at each other. But he has to know what they’re saying. He caused this, after all.

(Dick isn’t angry at Tim. He doesn’t even know Tim was in on the secret. But Tim is guilty nevertheless. Dick is hurt because of him.)

***

“Question everything,” Bruce says.

When does it end? Tim thinks.

Bruce says this was training. Says that it’s a good thing Tim questioned the character of his friends, questioned his own memories.

This isn’t training.

When does training go too far? Tim wonders. How’s that for a question, Bruce?

***

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Tim doesn’t allow himself to think about the question.

“Then don’t follow me.”

Tim follows Bruce anyway and ends up saving his life.

Bruce lectures him for not following orders.

***

“Trust is the enemy,” Bruce says, as Tim sits on the medical cot, shivering. The chills alternate with an unnatural warmth that feels like it’ll burn him up from the inside. “You need to learn to doubt your senses.”

Tim’s teeth chatter. Whatever Ivy and Crane cooked up together really sucks, even with the antidotes. “’m not in the mood for a l’cture, B,” Tim says, tugging on his blanket and trying to cover himself entirely with it.

“You could have avoided that fall,” Bruce says. “You knew you were hallucinating, but you still trusted that the ground was where it seemed—”

“Stop,” Tim says, closing his eyes. Every inch of him feels unbearably cold. “Just stop. I get it.”

“Do you?” Bruce asks. “Because you keep making this mistake, Tim. You could have died.”

“I know,” Tim says. “I know, B. I know.”

(And he does think he knows, this time. Because sitting here, shivering in the well-heated room with Bruce sitting next to him, he feels utterly alone.)

***

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asks.

Bruce had wanted Tim to stop trusting, is the thing. He’d pushed and pushed and pushed, all because he thought Tim was too trusting. 

To Bruce, trust is a weakness, a failing, an enemy. And now that he’s pressed that belief into Tim, well…

It’s wrong, it’s disrespectful, it’s horrible. Bruce was only trying to make Tim stronger. Bruce wants what’s best for him.

But you reap what you sow. So, Tim looks at Batman and can’t help but tell the truth.

“No,” Tim says, “I don’t.”

Instead of being angry, though, Bruce gives him an approving nod. “Good.”

Oh, Tim thinks. I finally passed the test.

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Merry Christmas! Thank you to everyone who’s read this so far and to my beta reader who has hyped me up about this whole thing. I’m going to try and update once a week but occasionally it may take a bit longer or less depending on how much I work on it since I am writing it as I go. Hope you enjoy! Also who here knows how to make the masterlist thingymajobs? Because I don't and I want to make one

Chapter 2

A scream shattered the silence and my hand was up in the air before I even knew what I was doing as I uttered those four dreaded words.

“I volunteer as tribute!”

The second I said them Lysander was practically jumping in delight, a grin spread across his face as wide as can be as he proclaimed loudly.

“I believe we have a volunteer.” I stepped forward, ignoring the shocked looks Annie and Mags were throwing my way. Lysander babbled on and on for a few minutes about ‘how exciting for a victor to volunteer’, how ‘he was sure none of the other districts would have tributes’. I felt like throwing up, looking out into a sea of faces, most of them open mouthed, a few simply confused as if wondering who the hell I even was. I saw a couple of people who I used to know, refusing to meet my eyes. My ballet shoes hung by my side, a heavy weight pulling down, anchoring me to reality as my mind drifted.

I turned to Lysander and gave him a pathetic attempt at a smile, lips tilting upwards slightly, a flash of white teeth for a second. “Please,” he said, “Shake hands.”

I didn't realise what he said until Finnick stepped forward and held out his hand to me. My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lip, twisting the sleeves of my cardigan again, holding out my other arm to hold his hand loosely before pulling it back quickly as I felt my mark burn slightly. He looked confused for a moment before his expression cleared and he put on a charming smile, waving to the crowd. As for me, I stood there silently, chewing on my lip worriedly, wondering why I volunteered, why I didn't even hesitate.

“Your tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games!” Lysander yelled to the crowd over their obedient clapping as peacekeepers pointed guns at them, threatening to shoot. All of a sudden we were herded off stage and I was dragged to the same room I had been in all those years ago, the paint still peeling, a splintered chair and table on dusty stone. I took a few steps in and collapsed on the floor, chest heaving as I tried to take in deep breaths. I curled my hands into fists, nails cutting into the soft skin of my hands, a few tears dripping down my face but I heard heavy footsteps down the corridor and quickly composed myself, brushing away the tears and standing up, elegantly sitting down in the chair as the door opened. Mags walked in, escorted by a guard who muttered.

“Five minutes.” And closed the door behind him. Mags stared at me for a second before walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her and she mouthed one word. Why?

I smiled slightly as I answered.

“She doesn't deserve to die. She needs to live and I'll do everything I can to get Finnick out and back to her.” Mags looked confused so I rolled up my sleeve and showed her my wrist. “He's my soulmate,” she blinked quickly and I continued,”And he doesn't love me but he loves her and they deserve to live.” She looked angry and somehow managed to croak out a few words.

“What about you?” I patted her hand, standing up and looking out the window.

“I don't matter, I just want him to be safe and sound. I want him to be happy, even if it's not with me.” She looked at me pityingly, brown eyes filled with emotion as she folded me into her arms; I broke down, sobbing silently into her shoulder, tears soaking the fabric. “I just can't let him die, not if I can do something about it.” I managed to get out between hiccuping sobs and sniffles. She comforted me gently, stroking my hair with wrinkled hands and all too soon it was time for her to go.

The door swung open and Mags scurried out before they could drag her away, the last thing I saw of her was her long grey hair before another person walked in and the door was slammed shut behind them. Annie stood in front of me. Long auburn hair tangled, sea green eyes gazing at me curiously. She took in my puffy eyes and red face streaked with tears saying nothing as she kneeled down and took my hands in hers.

“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly, not looking me in the eye, “Why would you give up your life?”

“We aren't so dissimilar you and I.” I spoke, removing my hands from hers and laying them on my knees. “The games,” my voice cracked,”The games left us both broken beyond belief. The difference between us is that you had someone there to build you back up after you came out. I didn't. Or I did, but they didn't care enough to stay. We've both been dropped and shattered on impact but you've been fixed, mostly, the cracks are still there and with the right push it'll all come crashing down. But me, I've got nobody and nothing left, everyone left me to crumble to pieces as if I would just be fine, but I'm not, I'm just a pile of broken glass waiting for someone to finally care and put me back together. So I volunteered. Because you have everything to lose; I’ve got nothing left.” Annie said nothing, just watched me carefully,

“I'll get Finnick out for you,” I whispered,”You don't have to worry about him. I promise.” The door opened and she was led out, throwing a last glance over her shoulder at me, a strange look in her eyes as if she knew something I didn’t.

I was left alone to my thoughts again. Wrapping the ribbons of my shoes around my hands repetitively. Wondering what it would be like this time around. Would I even have a chance at survival? I dismissed that one immediately, with victors like the ones from districts 1 and 2, plus Katniss and Peeta from last year, I wasn't getting out alive. I was good but not that good. I could throw knives perfectly, fight in hand to hand combat and tie complex knots with lengths of rope, I was even half decent at using a bow and arrow. But compared to others I was weak.

The door creaked open again but this time no one entered except some peacekeepers in their white uniforms and masks, they dragged me out, gloved hands twisting my skin. I shook my arms out of their hold and glared at them, they let me loose and marched me along the corridor to the exit where a car would be waiting. They opened the side door and pushed me in. My head knocked against the metal and I hissed in annoyance but said nothing. The car pulled away from the justice building and I stared out at it for the last time, the carved marble flawless and perfect but oh so cold. My eyes trailed over the shapes of people outside, cheering my name; screaming for the games to stop. They hadn't even known who I was before, why did they care now? Why did they care just as I was sent off to my death once again? Why did they care when all they had ever done was pretend I didn't exist?

How could they stand there and scream my name, their beloved victor, when they had never before known me? How dare they pretend to care about me. How dare they think I wanted this. How dare they congratulate me on my actions when the choice didn't even exist to begin with. In those moments I was filled with nothing but disgust for the people of my district. We were supposed to be united against the Capitol yet here they were excited for me to go back in. Granted there was the idea that if they didn't then they would be made an example of by peacekeepers for not complying with orders. But behind every forced action there is a planted seed that was simply nurtured to form the fully fledged evil.

I sighed, propping my head up on my hand as we entered the station, reporters from the Capitol waiting for the chance to get a shot of Finnick or I. We jolted to a stop and Finnick stepped calmly out of the car in front, waving to people, giving them his charming smile, playing up to his persona as the Capitol darling. I took a deep breath as he disappeared from sight, people screaming for one last look at him, and pushed down the handle to open the door. I stepped out and was immediately assaulted by loud noises, too loud. They ripped through my skull and I flinched while I walked along the pathway that was cleared for me. They screamed my name and they wouldn't stop, it echoed in my head, their voices like nails as they raked down the walls I had built up in my mind to block out the bad and keep the good close. The peacekeepers surrounded my shaking form, tiny compared to the crowds gathered; herded me to the platform where the train was waiting. Sleek and silver, like a bullet, and just as fast as one.

I stumbled over the gap where the platform ended and the train doors opened, allowing me to topple to the floor in a graceless heap. I groaned and sat up, pressing a hand to the side of my head and frowning in annoyance as I felt the slightest of bruises there. My feet slipped out of my sandals so I picked them up in one hand alongside my pointe shoes and pushed myself to a standing position leaning on the wall of the train. I took a minute to calm myself, mentally preparing for the interesting conversation that was sure to come when I walked into the next compartment. I dropped my head forwards and wiped a hand over my face before sighing and reaching out to the handle, pushing it down.

I stepped in and three sets of eyes locked on me, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hi.” I cleared my throat and they resumed their conversation. I relaxed in relief and dropped into a chair at the table, immediately reaching out for a plate. I filled it with all kinds of foods, meat, pasta, vegetables and more. A luxury I couldn't bring myself to afford with the money I had won, food I tended to steer clear of because in my mind it belonged to the Capitol and eating it made me one of them. But I figured I was going to die soon so I might as well indulge while I could. I speared a piece of fish and potato and it was halfway to my mouth when I noticed eyes on me again. Lysander was giving me a look of wonder as he leaned forwards onto his hands.

“So Y/N, tell me why did you volunteer? We need to know so we can spin this story to give you the best chance of winning that we can you see.” He smiled and bit into a leg of chicken, tearing the meat away with his teeth. My mind blanked, I couldn't exactly tell him the real reason I volunteered, that would not go down well with the current company, I glanced over to Finnick and my eyes widened as our eyes connected for a split second before I snapped my gaze back to my plate. I shrugged my shoulders and shoved the food in my mouth. Lysander’s mouth twisted into a scowl at my disregard for him and Mags, seated next to him, smiled down at her plate.

I swallowed my food and sipped on water in a glass next to me before I answered his question

“I didn't want her to die.” He spluttered in delight.

“I can work with that. A story of two best friends, one worried for the other's safety so she volunteers to save her from certain death.” I shook my head at his words.

“No. We aren't friends. I just didn't think she deserved to die and that's the only story you're going to tell.”

“But, but, but,” Lysander stammered under my glare.

“But nothing,” I said calmly, “There is no story, I volunteered because I felt sorry for her, nothing more nothing less. Now if you'll excuse me,” I shoved the chair back and stood up, “I'm going to my room and I don't want to see you, until morning.” With that I stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind me, rattling the ornaments and pictures hanging on the walls. My footsteps were heavy as I almost ran along the corridor, I finally reached the door I wanted and stared at it, remembering how seven years ago I had stood in the exact same spot.

My thoughts were pretty different about being in the Hunger Games now. Back then I had had no choice so it was just an unfortunate circumstance I found myself in with the added threat of death. Now it was more of an actual game and I suppose that was the point, throw previous victors into an arena together, seasoned killers, guaranteed chaos would ensue. They'd have the perfect show, death upon death that would look interesting and be absolutely brutal because the executioners would all know what they were doing. It would be the most viewed year of the games in history. They’d be making hunters into performers, fighting to stay alive for the cameras. Doing anything to gain sponsors. It wouldn’t surprise me if some people went too far. But most of all, we’d be angry. Angry that we had to go back, they’d promised we were done and now it seemed they lied.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It smelled of fresh peaches and vanilla, the white bedsheet pulled tightly across the mattress, light green comforter spread across the duvet. I gently closed the door behind me and threw my sandals on the floor. I leapt onto the bed, sinking into the mountain of pillows piled up near the headboard. A headboard engraved with swirls of waves and shells to represent district 4, I looked closer and on every wave was a set of initials and a date, the initials of every other district 4 tribute in the history of the games and the date they were reaped. A tradition upheld by every new victim. I traced over my initials on one of the waves and picked up the knife I had taken a few minutes ago, I picked a new wave and ripped into it, my initials carved as deeply as possible. A message that I was not going easy. I would go but I would fight every step of the way.

I chucked the knife down and admired my handiwork. I was no artist but if I were this would be my best piece. Rolling over I stood up and made my way to the wardrobe. Opening it I found an assortment of clothes and night dresses. I picked out a white one that fell loosely to my knees and pulled my pointe shoes on, tying the ribbons around my ankles and standing up. Humming a song, I rose onto my toes, hands lifting above my head as I twirled around, the skirt floating around me. I kicked one leg into the air, leaning to the other side and bringing my arms close to my body, curving them in. I danced for what seemed like hours, lost in a world of my own as I spun around in circles, sweeping my arms above my head and out in front of me. Finally growing dizzy I stopped, one foot turned out in front of me, the other pointed behind me as I let my arms drop slowly to my side, my humming stopped and I opened my eyes. Remembering the reason I was here, to help Finnick. All urge to dance left me as I quietly undid the knotted ribbons, pulling the shoes off and staring at my feet, blistered and bruised. Plasters taped on them to stop the cuts being infected. I climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over my body, shivering as the cold fabric touched my skin and then burrowing further into the warmth it provided. I yanked the comforter closer. Rubbing my cheek on the fluffy material, hand reaching out to turn off the lights, switch just in reach making a sharp clicking sound as I flipped it. My eyes started to drift closed in the darkness, my limbs tired from the exhausting day and I fell into dark oblivion.

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @user123453226780536 @littleanubis21

If the tagging didn’t work or you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!

[alyygx]

Just Hold My Hand

Paring: Eugene Roe x Reader

Requested?: Yes, by @xxluckystrike

Warnings: None really. Just lots of fluff. So much fluff, in fact, you'll feel like you're floating on a cloud!

A/N: This is the first fic I've written in quite a long time so please be kind. I hope you all like it! And if you do please tell your friends or maybe even reblog! And then shoot me a request while you're at it. 😊

The cigarette smoke hung thick in the air as you sat smiling to yourself watching the rowdiness around you. These boys sure know how to enjoy themselves and Lord knows they all deserved it. Especially after everything this war had put them through. You were nursing your second glass of wine sitting on a stool that was brought outside. Everyone was gathered at a clearing in the woods just next to the beautiful building you were all staying in while in Austria. Spiers had forced everyone outside after the noise being made interfered with him concentrating on his paperwork. But there was no stopping the celebration. VE day was definitely something that needed celebrating. After all, it had been a long time coming. Sometimes you felt as if the war would last forever; that somehow this was just your life now, an endless cycle of blood, violence and death. You were one of the medics in Easy Co. and though you would do practically anything to take care of your war family you frankly couldn't stand seeing one more soldier wounded, bleeding, or in pain. It completely broke your heart in two. At that you grabbed your glass of wine and downed it, attempting to chase the thought away.

In the distance of the buzzing party chaos you heard a voice, sounding a lot like Luz but slurred, summoning you to come and join in the festivities. It's not that you weren't extremely thrilled that the Germans surrendered, far from it, you just really weren't a party person. The majority, if not the entirety, of the men were thoroughly drunk at this point and you were just ready to get out of there. You shook your head 'no' in Luz's direction and slid off the stool you were sitting on.

"Sorry guys. You're having way too much fun I'm afraid I couldn't keep up tonight." You said chuckling.

Luz just shrugged his shoulders and with a smile turned back to the group. As you turned to walk away you collided with another warm body only to discover it was Eugene.

"Where have you been hiding? I've been sitting here waiting for you!" You giggled, looking at your fellow medic waiting for his answer.

You and Gene had steadily grown closer and closer over the course of the war. Him being one of the few soldiers in company who could completely understand the things you were going through and vice versa. You both had finally admitted your feelings for each other and made things official shortly after Bastogne. With everything that happened in that God forsaken forrest being worried about rejection suddenly seemed like a stupid reason to not share what you feeling. Eugene apparently felt the same way too because you both ended up just blurting it out to each other at the same time and then laughing at your shared impatience.

"Sorry darlin' I didn't realize the location of the festivities had been changed. Walked around inside looking for everyone for 20 minutes before Spiers yelled from his office for me to look outside." He said smiling at you.

After glancing around at the other men and their drunken antics though his smile fell.

"You don't actually want to be here do you?" You asked, secretly hoping he wanted to do literally anything else but hang around this party.

"What?" He said suddenly as if you snapped him out of a thought. "Do you wanna get out of here?" Gene asked, taking both of your hands in his.

A wide smile spread across your face as your grip on Gene's hands tightened. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you had an idea.

"Yeah, and I think I know just the place to go."

Letting go of one of Gene's hands and pulling him along with the other you both started walking away from the festivities and onto a path that would lead you deeper into the woods. After walking together for several minutes, your hands never parting, you arrived at the lake. The moonlight was reflecting off the water and the mountains lined the background standing tall and regal topped with snow at their tips. It was the clearest night you'd seen in awhile. Not a single cloud in the sky and the stars shining so big and bright they looked like literal diamonds glistening out from a black background.

"This has been my favorite spot since we arrived here." You said staring out at the view. "But I had no idea how beautiful it would be at night"

Your eyes never left the view, Gene's eyes, however, never left you.

"Well, let's enjoy it then." Gene said, slowly beginning to sit on the ground, pulling you with him by your still entwined hands. You both laid close to each other, your hands still never parting.

"I use to do this all the time as a child." Gene told you. "Just laying, staring up at the stars at night. Really has a way of helping you figure things out."

You nodded your head in agreement. Allowing your thoughts to wander. To take you to what life will be like after you finally get to go home. You had told Gene that after you took a quick trip to see your family and gather your things that you would move to New Orleans with him. You're far from having second thoughts but now that Germany had surrendered you were beginning to get even more nervous about it.

"Gene?" You ask softly.

"Hmmm..." He hummed in acknowledgement.

"What if they don't like me?"

"Huh? Who mon cher?"

"Your family. I've never lived so far away from home before. What if they don't like me?"

Gene just smiled. His thumb beginning to rub circles on the back of your hand.

"Oh chérie. You have nothing to worry about. I know for a fact that they're going to love you. If for no other reason than because I love you."

This made you smile. Gene had always had a way of soothing you no matter what you were upset about. It's one of the many reasons you fell for him.

"Things are going to be so great once we get home. We might have to stay with my parents for a little while before we find a place of our own. But once I get a job and save up I'm gonna buy you the prettiest house in New Orleans. We'll fix it up real nice inside and get everything set to start our lives together!"

Gene was squeezing your hand now in such a manner that you couldn't help but feel his excitement. It was getting you hopeful for the future too. But at the same time you were still nervous. He seemed to pick up on this because he suddenly stopped talking.

"You ok?" He asked turning to face you.

"Yeah." You started. "It all sounds wonderful, it really does. It's just the idea of being in a new place so far from my family. I'm still a little nervous. It'll be different then being away from them like I have during the war because this time it'll be by choice. Or at least more of a choice than I felt I had when I enlisted." You sighed.

Gene just looked at you with those soft eyes of his you loved so much. Eyes so full of caring and compassion you could've just leaned over and kissed him right there.

"Everything will be fine mon amour. Any time you feel nervous or unsure all you have to do is just hold my hand. I promise that with time it will feel like home. We'll build our home together, we'll build our life together, and then once you feel comfortable we can get married." Gene smiled a hopeful smile while fishing his free hand in his pocket and suddenly pulling out something shiny.

You gasped, your eyes growing wide. It was the most beautiful ring you had ever seen.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked, holding the ring to hover over your left ring finger. "Will you marry me?"

Tears now filled your eyes. The whole thing felt like a dream. A dream you never wanted to wake from.

"Of course I will." You answered, the tears now running down your cheeks.

"We're gonna make it chère. I promise. Doesn't matter if the times are good or bad, all you have to do is just hold my hand."

[firstprincehornyramblings]

I'm posting this Sentences Sunday at 3am, because why the hell not, it's Sunday. This one is going to have 3 snippets, all very nsfw, all very under the cut, but I'm doing to try and keep them shorter, for mysterious reasons. *wiggles fingers*

- kissingchambers (🤭) pwp 💊

He couldn’t look down at Elliot, he managed a glance before giving up and looking back at the ceiling. Those hungry eyes and wide pupils narrowed and nearly predatory- that look was lethal. It would make impossibly quick work of Marco if he allowed himself to watch. His hand tugged harder at the hair between his fingers, legs spreading wider, to what end he had no idea. But it was rewarded with one of Elliot’s hand sliding along his inner thigh, squeezing at soft skin. “I- uh, Ellie…” Marco swallowed hard, gasping for air between moans as he spoke. “Can you uh-” With a hum, Elliot lifted his head, still sucking hard as his mouth popped free. “Ellie, that’s cute, what, are you about to cum?” he chuckled, somehow still sounding sarcastic. All Marco could really do was nod.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- doctor alex and patient henry 🩺

“Oh, I didn’t make you dinner,” Henry sneered, “You can do that on your own.” “Wh-” “You need to get tested,” he didn’t even allow his boyfriend to respond to the initial jab. “You fucking gave me chlamydia,” he hissed, already standing up and emptying his plate, “Don’t apologize, don’t make a fucking excuse, be an adult, take care of it. And for christ’s fucking sake,” he snapped, tossing his plate into the sink nearly hard enough to break it, “Use a Johnny next time, will you?” “Baby, wait,” Charlie pleaded, following behind Henry who was already in the process of storming toward the bedroom. “Do not,” the blond whipped around with lightning speed, a finger shoved only centimeters from his boyfriend’s nose, “Do not fucking ‘baby’ me, right now.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------- dystopian prince's consort alex 👑

All at once, Alex got his wish, Henry’s hips jerking forward as he spilled onto the bed. Streak after streak of white painted the linens, loud husky whines and moans coming from deep in the blond’s chest. That tightness squeezing Alex’s cock like a vice grip, it was an incredible feat that he didn’t finish on the spot himself; he’d thank whichever god did that for him later. His own hips finally slowed to a moderate pace, now just rolling into deep, slow slamming motions into the other man. His hand worked the last few drops from Henry’s tip, the opposite hand leaving the blond’s throat to lovingly cradle a warm cheek instead. His thumb brushed over Henry’s lips in a way that was far too affectionate for what they’d just done, but he couldn’t help it, Alex was a romantic at heart. “Where do you want me to cum, baby?” “On my face, please,” with that answer, the blond leaned forward, falling into the mattress with no regard for the mess. He rolled over onto his back after a moment, still breathing hard as he looked up at Alex. There was a smile on those plush lips now, a quiet blissed out laugh, and half-lidded cock drunk eyes. Henry was more beautiful that way, Alex thought.

—

🏷️(no pressure tags darlings)

@taste-thewaste @henrysfox @mikibwrites @eusuntgratie

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics @henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones @henfox @anti-homophobia-cheese

@redlipstickandglitter @onthewaytosomewhere

@thesleepyskipper @tailsbeth-writes @thighzp @lfg1986-2

+ literally anyone else I'm tired and forgot. (i say as if im not always sleepy) or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3

[mothergold]

| Better Than None |

Pairing: Yae Miko x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Smut, Fem!Reader, Afab!Reader, Reader and Yae are both sapphic, Oral Sex, Teasing, Yae Miko mocks you at times, She/Her Pronouns for Yae Miko, No pronouns for Reader, Reader is called “Princess”, Crying (Reader), Reader is mentioned to have breasts, Aftercare, Gets sappy towards the end im sorry, op sucks at endings so i’m sorry if it’s ass, 1.2k words. 

Summary: Uhmm this is just a drabble (well it was supposed to be) of Yae Miko and fem reader making love, but i got kinda carried away. This isn’t my best work, buuuuut it was fun to do a little writing exercise regardless, and I figured I’d share it because well.. Why not lmao.

A/n: Yae Miko has had me in a chokehold as of recently </3

Tags: @suyacho @tighnarly @neuvillettes @themovingcastlez

Yae took the pointed part of her nail and dragged it along your body, from your breasts to your shaky knees. You looked up at her eagerly, nervous for what she had planned for you next. There was a glint in her eyes when she looked at you, it was as if she was going to sink her teeth into you at any given second, but instead she sat patiently. Dragging her nails up and down your body until you started to squirm and whimper underneath her longing touch. 

“So impatient.” She whispered mockingly.  

You knew she was teasing you, seeing how far she could take this until you inevitably cracked under the pressure, but you still couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together at the sound of her voice. She always did have such a pleasant voice. You looked up at her and pleaded, looking deep into her glowing eyes.

“Please, Miko. Please.” You begged. 

Miko took a moment to think before agreeing with a grin. She adjusted her placement so that she was positioned right between your legs, which she had spread nice and wide. With your legs apart she could see in perfect view the way your pussy glistened from all the precum. Not only was your body now fully exposed for her viewing pleasure, but she also took note of how flustered you looked. Wearing an expression of shame and embarrassment you looked away, hoping to all the archons that she wouldn’t tease you now of all times, but unfortunately your prayers went unanswered.

“Aww, is my princess embarrassed?” She mocked in a cold and dark tone. 

Before you could answer her (rhetorical) question she had made the point to lean down and lick your pussy up in one long stripe. Immediately you froze and shivered due to the abrupt pleasure, and then you remained still aside from the obvious quivering. Your hands gripped the sheets and you held your tongue as the many curses known to you threatened to burst past your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt her moan against your pussy, licking it up once again in an attempt to both pleasure and torment you.

You writhed underneath her touch, so much so, that she took both her hands and pinned your thighs against the ground so she’d have better control of you. Without even realizing it you had ultimately rescinded total control to her. Allowing Miko to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to do it. Usually this thought would make you nervous and maybe even a little on edge, but when it came to Miko, you’d do anything to give her that control. You weren’t one to do that sort of thing, but there was something about her that made you want to give everything up all in her name.

Maybe it was toxic how tightly she had you wrapped around her finger, but maybe… maybe you simply didn’t care. How could you? She was like a God you so desperately needed to worship. Not wanted, needed to. How would she be anything but heavenly when she could make you see all the stars in the sky with just the touch of her tongue. She was divine in every single way, so of course you grew accustomed to only seeing her as such. 

Suddenly, your empty head was shocked awake by the feeling of her fingers pressing up against your sweet spot. You gasped and arched your back from the intrusive sensation. It was pleasant in a way you’d simply never felt before, and when she looked up to see your lips parted in an O shape, and your eyes squeezed shut with tears trailing down your face, she couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction.

She already knew she had this effect on you, but seeing it in action was always such a sweet gift. Every gasp and moan you breathed into the air became fuel for Yae’s torment upon you. It encouraged her to go further, do more and do it better. Sure, you’d had these things done to you before, but there was something about her handiwork that was the equivalent of eating the forbidden fruit. You know you shouldn’t, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Not when she touched you like she did. Not with how deeply she loved you. 

“I’m..I’m!” You started to yell out, but Yae Miko shushed you. Reassuring you that all would be well and that you need not hurt yourself to express your needs to her, for she already knew what you were about to say.

“Shhh, I know, I know.” She reassured you, stroking your cheek gently. 

Just then you felt an extraordinary feeling pass through you, electrifying all your mortal senses as you came onto her fingers. You didn’t say a single thing, only gasped for air as your hands traveled your body from the extreme ecstasy you felt. It was a feeling like none other, a feeling only Miko could give you. No man had ever made you feel this way before, and perhaps no woman either. That’s the thing about your girlfriend, she knew just where to touch you, when to do it, and how to do it, as well.. 

As you took a few moments to calm yourself, Yae Miko scooped you up in her arms and cradled you close to her chest. She was warm and comforting, almost motherly. She shushed you and rocked you in her arms, stroking your tear stained cheek as you cried yourself into exhaustion. It wasn’t long before your cries subsided and you turned to her with a small smile.. An expression that said “Thank You” was written all over your face. Yae Miko nuzzled her head against yours and held onto your naked form for however long you needed, even if that meant holding you through the night, she would gladly do it. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she really had to hold you as tight and close as she did tonight, but one thing was for sure. S he’d never been closer to you than she had that night. Even as your crying died down, you clung to her like a vines on an old house. Forever stuck to something so beautiful, taking ownership to something you refused to give up on. You two were so different, and maybe even a little unconventional, but you couldn’t think of a life without her. In all fairness, you didn’t really remember your life before her to begin with.

And before Miko coaxed you into the bathtub, urging you to bathe, she watched you with focused and careful eyes. Gazing at what would be her new past, present, and future. The thought may have scared her in the past, but now it brought her nothing but relief and maybe the occasional anxiety.

[sillyromance]

Since @tinysuzy posted a beautiful list of vore dialog prompts, one line has been stuck in my head, and it refuses to leave. It stands under number 8: “If you want to die, then let me be your grave”.

There are so many controversial emotions fighting inside of me whenever I read this, but the one that overcomes, or rather concludes them all, is a feeling of comfort. It’s kinda illogical, I know. But this phrase always sounds so soft, so soothing to me – because I see it as an apotheosis of acceptance, love and trust. Yes, trust, because both pred and prey need huge amount of trust to bound their lives together till the end of times. I can’t help but put these words in a mouth of someone with deep empathy and compassion, someone who is so generous and selfless in a way that they offer to an abandoned, lost soul their body as a place where the latter would be in safety and peace for eternity, where nobody would ever hurt them again. And as far as it may seem to be just a way for a pred to get an easy meal, I don’t see even a hint of thoughts about gaining anything from a prey or using them here. Furthermore, as a prey myself, I would be deeply touched, realizing that a person cares about me so much that they are ready to spend all their life as one with me. Like… They would take all I have as their own, all my good and bad, all my imperfections – and wouldn’t judge, or laugh, or blame, or try to change me… They would just be there for me, and I would be there for them – forever.

I don’t know man. But reading this every time makes me emotional.

A small writing on this under the cut:

- If you want to die... then let me be your grave.

She sobs and leans closer to him, feeling his warm, welcoming body embracing her lovingly. She can hear his heart beating softly in his wide chest - and can't get enough of the sound, desperate to be surrounded, shaken by it to the very core of her bones. He brushes her hair, his touch soothing and comforting, and she isn't afraid of anything anymore.

Those nasty people will never get her again. Her friend is here, ready to bring her to safety, to give her shelter and defend her from the cruel world.

His big palm lays on her cheek. She smiles through tears and lets it caress her; as far as his fingers brush against her lips, she kisses them - and gives him one last look, look of deep sadness and deep gratitude.

- Take me in. Please.. - She asks, titling her head down.

And, soundlessly, he obliged, sealing her in his mouth up to her neck.

She isn't scared of pain - there won't be any. At best, it will tingle pleasantly until she get knocked out by heat and lack of oxygen. Powerful, yet gentle swallows make a good job slowly entraping every inch, every small piece of her body inside of her man, sending her closer, closer to her fate. She can already hear his stomach rumbling for her down below, and her smile spreads wider at the thought of answering that eager call of his inhuman nature. His organism wants her inside... Who is she to disobey its will? Besides, it fits her own desires perfectly..

Eventually, from the tight esophagus she is released into a roomier chamber. A stomach. The place where she will lose all her worries and fears along with her flesh.

It's clenching needily around her frame, keeping her right in its centre, demandingly cradling every curve and imperfection she thought everyone would hate, but he... wants. She feels his hands, too, resting on his expanded belly, rubbing at her back and shoulders, reaching to her through the layers of skin and flesh. She isn't alone. He didn't lie saying he would be there. Her love, her home.

Her last resting place...

Enough grief, enough struggles, enough anger. It's over. She notices liquid pooling in and eases herself into it, allowing it to fulfill its purpose and digest her. It feels blissful, to let it go. To let him take her and satisfy his body. As the walls hug her tighter, she fondles them, praying she won't be a challenge for him to claim.

She knows - he isn't the one to take advantage of her vulnerability, to tease, then deny her, to laugh at her weakness and freakiness. No.

He is her savior. Her hiding spot only they two know about. They both win this, for both get what they crave the most and what they deserve: she gets safety, love, protection; he gets nourishment and strength - not the kind of strength to abuse and destroy, but to build and help this world get better. Yet, there is no selfish reasons in the first place. They give things out of their hearts, and receive, minding the value of each gift. It makes this act even more intimate and beautiful.

They are definitely better this way, as a whole, powerful being.

...And she sinks into darkness, to become light in his kind eyes.

[deepspacedukat]

Okey so I found you on ao3 and I just wanna say I love your Picard x reader stuff so much 😳😳 there's barley any of it out there would you want to do some more nsfw of him, anything honestly cuz I'm desperate 😭 either way, thank you for your work! You are awesome 😎

Aww, thank you! I'm so glad you like my writing thus far! I will 10000% write more Picard smut. In fact, here's one just for you, Nonny! Have a lovely day!!

(Requests are still closed, this is just one from my backlog.)

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from my taglist, please let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

His Two O'Clock

Captain Jean-Luc Picard (ST:TNG) x Reader, Dixon Hill!Picard x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Established relationship, paying a debt another way, improper use of a desk, holodeck roleplaying, roleplay, oral sex (female receiving), coitus interruptus, power dynamic (kind of?).

~*~

"Mr. Hill? Your two o'clock is here," Madeline called over the intercom, and the door swung open before he could even acknowledge her message.

As gorgeous as ever, Hill's client strode into his office in high heels. The red lipstick adorning her mouth accentuated the way it was pursed with frustration.

"I want my money back, Mr. Hill."

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement." The detective's voice was low, pacifying...suggestive, even as he attempted to placate the woman whose case he couldn't solve. She'd come into his office a few weeks prior with a seemingly straightforward problem that turned out to be a puzzle without a solution. All the evidence had been eliminated, leaving only conjecture and instinct to explain what had happened.

That would never hold up in court. There wasn't even enough for an arrest, even if he'd been able to narrow down the suspects. He was baffled for once in his long, distinguished career, and now he had to own up to the fact that he couldn't even pay his client's money back, because he'd needed it for the office's rent.

He'd failed her in every possible way.

"I paid you a substantial amount, yet you've given me no more to go on than a few hints," his client said lifting an eyebrow. She tried to hide it, but her eyes roamed the length of his suit-clad body briefly before meeting his own. Her frustration was still there, but it was tempered by something else. Desire, blatant and growing in potency since the moment they'd met. "So, what exactly are you suggesting, Mr. Hill?"

An easy grin crossed his lips as he crossed his office. Pausing in front of her, he let his own eyes drop to her lips.

"Somehow, doll, I think you know what I mean, already," he murmured reaching up and grasping her chin. The pad of his thumb skimmed over her painted lower lip, just barely smearing some of the color onto his own skin.

He hoped he'd have that shade smudged in other places, as well, by the end of her appointment.

"With the amount you owe me, Mr. Hill, you'd better make it damn good," she demanded, but she sounded too breathy to be truly threatening.

"Oh, don't worry. I've never left a client dissatisfied before," Dixon promised, and true to his word, he soon had her splayed out atop his desk. With her legs spread wide and the hem of her dress rucked up to her hips, he relished the quiet moans pouring from her lips as he lost himself between her thighs.

Her fingers guided him, but he didn't really need it. He'd had plenty of practice using his tongue. Just as she bit her lip to stifle a keening whimper, the sound of the comm doused both their pleasures in ice water.

"Riker to Picard. We've reached Starbase Eighty-Four, sir. The station's commander would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience," the First Officer announced, and just like that, the Private Investigator was brushed aside for the Officer.

"Understood, Number One. Tell him I'll meet with him in a few moments," Captain Picard answered reluctantly, and when the line closed, he stood slowly between his lover's legs. "Same time tomorrow, Lieutenant?"

"Fourteen hundred hours, yes sir," she answered as she wiped her pleasure off of her Captain's lips with her handkerchief. He'd make it up to her tonight...and again tomorrow. Stealing one last kiss, he saved the program.

~*~*~

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