#prompt voting is coming soon

[nsfwghiralinkweek]

Good timezone everyone :D I am Sora (she/her)- one of the new mod additions to the (nsfw)GhiraLink Week moderation team. //You can find me on AO3 (rahchan), tumblr (rahchan-writes-again) or on discord Sora#5056// As I am based in CET I am the one who is awake, while the others sleep *hehe*

If you have any questions regarding the NSFW stuff - you are at the right address - it's my main focus - but of course you can ask any other question too.

My main languages are english and german, so come forward in any of these questions :D Fun facts some of you do not know yet - I am writing fanfiction since 2004ish with a decade of a break but I am back in the game and love to read and write fanfiction.

I am looking forward to the GhiraLink Week 2023 and am hyped for what will going to happen and I am hyped to look at all the contributions.

[firstelevens]

sambucky + “stubborn” for your consideration!

this screenshot was the first thing I saw from the Thunderbolts trailer and unfortunately I was perfectly positioned to have a brainwave about it. now it's a fic. bon appetit.

( read it on AO3 )

As it so often has these days, one in the morning finds Sam crawling around on the kitchen floor, mapping out a pattern in subway tiles. Tonight, he’s gone for herringbone, a choice that he regretted as soon as he started. There’s a legal pad on the floor beside him, covered in notes about angled cuts and tile wastage, and he’s still not sure the pattern looks the way it should. There are probably YouTube videos about this exact thing, but this is the first night in weeks that Sam can’t just blast a home improvement video from his phone at any given hour.

He pushes off the floor and stands to get a look at the pattern he laid out—his knees protest, which he doesn’t have time to be concerned about—and huffs in disappointment. The tiles are far too chunky for the design, the angled set looking more like a mistake than an artistic choice. It might come through if Sam was willing to tile the whole kitchen that way, but it makes his head spin to consider how much tile would be wasted if he did.

He’s still frowning down at the pattern when the creak of the staircase landing lets him know that he’s about to have company. Apparently, not even Bucky’s stealth is a match for hardwood floors in a hundred year old house, and after a moment, he appears in the kitchen doorway.

“Sam,” he says, his voice still hoarse from sleep, “why the hell are you still up?”

His hair is a fluffy mess, caught in an awkward growing-out stage, and he’s wearing a sweatshirt from some charity event that Kamala had wheedled them into attending last month, and he’s just bleary enough that all Sam has to do is hold out a hand before Bucky is taking it and allowing himself to be reeled in. He lets out a quiet oof when he collides with Sam’s shoulder, but immediately readjusts, slipping his arms around Sam’s waist and resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder.

“How are you gonna shake off your jet lag if you don’t get some sleep?” asks Sam. “If you fall asleep mid-conversation at lunch with Joaquín tomorrow, I’m never letting you live it down.”

“I’m over a hundred years old, Sam; I can nap whenever I damn well please.”

“You could also sleep in our bedroom at night like a normal person.”

Bucky snorts. “Are we pretending to have normal sleep schedules now?”

“Shut up, it’s aspirational,” says Sam. “Just like all those kitchen Pinterest boards are about to be if I can’t figure out this stupid tile arrangement.”

“That’s because you’re basically sleepwalking.”

“If you’re just gonna be quippy about it, you can take your ass right back up to bed,” snaps Sam. “We’re already running behind schedule, and I need these tiles set before the guy comes to install the stove, and we bought all these decorative pieces and we had a plan for all of it, but I can’t for the life of me remember how the designer at the tile showroom made it work, and if I can’t, that’s another three weeks.”

He feels Bucky’s arms retreat from around his waist and immediately regrets it. It’s not Bucky’s fault that Sam’s brain isn’t working right now, just like it isn’t his fault that Team Cap got called in at the crack of dawn today to deal with a squadron of rogue androids wreaking havoc in Chicago. 

“Sorry, Buck,” he says, scrubbing a hand down his face and turning in the direction of Bucky’s footsteps. “This is the third catastrophe of the week, and I just– what are you doing?”

Bucky shrugs at Sam as he turns on the tap and fills the electric kettle with water. “What does it look like, birdie? I’m making tea.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Because I’m not gonna sleep unless you come to bed, and you’re not gonna come to bed until you figure out how to make this tile pattern work. I don’t solve my problem until I solve yours.”

“There’s that romance I’ve been missing,” says Sam, his voice flat.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response. “Romance? Is that what you call staying downstairs to do math instead of coming up to bed when your partner just got back from a month-long mission?”

“It was barely three weeks,” scoffs Sam, like he hadn’t kept up a running tally of days until Bucky’s return. “And your so-called mission was to Wakanda, where you spent most of your time playing with baby goats and being nosy about Shuri’s experiments.”

“And that was very hard, very lonely work,” says Bucky, flicking the kettle on and turning to grab mugs out of the cabinet. He sets them on the counter, then drops in a tea bag each from the fancy wooden caddy that Joaquín got them as a housewarming present. “I pined for you, Samuel.”

“I’m sure you did,” says Sam. He decides to leave Bucky to it and turns back to the tiles, halfway to kneeling on the floor again before Bucky makes a disapproving noise from behind him. He huffs and looks over his shoulder, straightening up again. “What now, Barnes?”

“You keep at it like this and your knees and back are gonna give you trouble for the next month.”

Sam crosses his arms, more annoyed at Bucky being right than anything else. “How else do I make this puzzle work? It’s not going to make sense unless I can move the pieces myself.”

In retrospect, it’s gracious of Bucky to not point out that crawling on his hands and knees didn’t do much to make it make sense, either. In the moment, he just says, “Give me a second,” and disappears down the hallway again, turning into the family room. 

When he reappears a moment later, he has two couch cushions in his hand, dropping them both at Sam’s feet. “Knock yourself out,” he says, gesturing to the tiles on the floor.

“Oh,” says Sam, blinking down at the pillows. He doesn’t know why he didn’t think of that earlier. “Thanks, baby.”

Bucky just hums in acknowledgment. “At least this way we don’t have to put out a press statement about you getting injured in a fight with kitchen decor.”

“Shut up,” says Sam, but it’s much softer now. He kneels on the cushion in front of him and sets to work again, referring to his legal pad and trying to make sense of the tile layout one more time. 

On the other side of the island, he can hear Bucky pouring the hot water into their mugs. A second later, he hears the click and swoosh of something gliding across a smooth surface, followed by the thwack of two coasters sliding over the edge of the counter and landing on the floor. One of them skids far enough on the landing to end up on Sam’s tiles, and though he flicks it out of the way, it makes a familiar fondness bloom in his chest.

“Why are you pelting me with coasters? I know your mother raised you better than that.”

“She did,” says Bucky, coming around the counter. “Which is why I would never put these mugs on these ‘original hardwoods’ that you love so much.”

Sam makes a face. Being excited about original hardwood floors in a house from 1910 is normal and he won’t be shamed for it. “And you couldn’t just, I don’t know, carry over the coasters like a normal person?”

“Then I’d have to make two trips,” Bucky says. “I’m being efficient, Sam.”

“You’re being lazy, is what that is,” says Sam. He reaches up to take one of the mugs as Bucky sits down beside him.

“I prefer to think of it as saving my energy for important things,” says Bucky, setting aside his tea. “Like saving the world. Or ravishing my partner after yearning for him for weeks on end.”

Sam tries to nudge Bucky, but three years of partnership and supersoldier reflexes mean that Bucky almost never catches a ‘stop being corny’ elbow—although when he does, he makes sure to whine about it for far too long. “All that yearning and you still couldn’t bring me my own Border Tribe blanket?”

“That thing is enormous, Sam; why would we need two?”

“What if I want to curl up in a chair on my own?”

Bucky snorts. “Then I assume you’ll just steal the blanket, the same way you always do at night.”

Unfortunately, it’s an accusation backed up by hard evidence, so Sam has no defense against it, except to say, “What do you even need the blankets for? You’re like a furnace; you’ve got the serum.”

“And what do you even need the blankets for when you’ve got me?”

Sam can see the corners of Bucky’s mouth turning up just slightly, and he opts not to give him the satisfaction of a laugh. “You better be glad you didn’t say that back in Delacroix, because Sarah would never let you hear the end of it.”

“You say that like you’re not going to tell her about this on the phone tomorrow.”

He can’t argue with that, so he doesn’t, turning back to the tiles and the legal pad instead. Bucky watches him work in silence for a bit, drawn-out enough that Sam is itching to break it. It’s easy to forget that even before Bucky was the Winter Soldier, he spent his army career waiting out the enemy from a sniper’s nest, and he can play chicken with the best of them. Three years of partnership has built up Sam’s tolerance, too, though, and when he stays silent, it’s Bucky who finally cracks.

“So should we talk about why you’re this worried about a bunch of tiles? And don’t tell me that anything worth doing is worth doing well. Tile-arranging in the dead of night is not something worth doing.”

“Maybe I just take pride in the things I do,” says Sam, but it sounds surly even to him.

“Of course you do,” says Bucky. “That’s hardly news. But don’t pretend this is the same thing as you getting up at the crack of dawn to work on the boat. This is something else.”

Sam frowns, looking down at the tiles that he’s been staring at for hours. He’s quiet for a long moment, but Bucky doesn’t rush him. There’s no answer that Sam can come up with, really, not one that would be remotely satisfactory.

“I can’t just want this to be done? It can’t just be that I want to check it off the list now and not later?”

“Is that what’s going on, though?”

“Maybe,” says Sam, shrugging.

“So we’ll just tile the whole kitchen the same way,” says Bucky, his voice light. “No backsplash pattern at all. Then we’ll be done.”

“It’s not that easy,” he says.

“Why not?” asks Bucky. “It’s our house, and we have a timeline to stick to, right? If the design is slowing us down, we can skip it.”

“It won’t be the same, though,” says Sam. “It won’t be right.”

Anyone else would be polite enough to leave it at that, but Sam had to go and fall in love with the stubbornest asshole he knows. “What, we don’t get to pick what’s right?”

“We already picked this,” Sam says, his voice sharp. “We picked the design and all the details, and where it would sit, and how long it would take for us to be done. We decided that this is what home should look like. We should be able to have the thing we want.”

And it’s not like Sam can’t hear himself. It’s not like he doesn’t know that his late nights of tile arranging and testing wood finishes aren’t the healthiest choices he could make. He’s just been able to ignore that until now, because for all this time, he’s had something to do and a deadline to do it by, whether it was androids to punch or a sink to order.

He hasn’t let himself think of stopping and what that means, not until right now, with Bucky’s gaze heavy on him and the quiet of the kitchen broken by a murmured, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Sam still doesn’t let himself look up, skimming his fingers over the tiles in their pattern. “I just want it to look like we wanted,” he says softly. His thoughts drift to the office upstairs, the classified files in the secret compartment of Bucky’s desk, and the lump in his throat is immediate. “So anyone who sees it knows that it’s a home. So they know that it’s our home.”

Bucky sighs, and then there’s some shuffling before he’s pulling on the sleeve of Sam’s t-shirt. “Come here, baby.”

A quick peripheral glance reveals that Bucky’s back is resting against the island cabinets now, and his arms are open. In any other circumstance, Sam might be embarrassed by how fast he moves, but he can’t bring himself to care. He lets himself be hauled into Bucky’s arms and manhandled into a more comfortable sitting position, his back to Bucky’s chest and Bucky’s arms curled protectively around him.

“Sammy, sweetheart,” says Bucky, “I don’t know what world you’re living in where it’s not already obvious that this is our house. Our dining room has purple walls, Sam. Purple. The whole room. I’ll tell you right now, nobody’s walking into that room and imagining anything except the truth.”

“It’s maroon, you heathen, and it’s a nice color,” says Sam, his voice still a little watery.

“It is,” Bucky agrees. “It’s nice, and you chose it, and every time I look at it, I’m going to think of how you told the girl at the paint counter that your man had old fashioned taste but no budget constraints, and she thought you were someone’s sugar baby redecorating their love nest.”

“That wasn’t as funny as you thought it was,” Sam says. Then, because he’s sleep deprived and his brain to mouth filter is gone, he adds: “And for the record, I’d be a great sugar baby. My taste is expensive as hell.”

“Yeah, Sam, you’re a real material girl.”

Sam frowns. “I should never have let Sarah teach you about Madonna.”

“I’d like to see you try to stop Sarah from doing anything,” says Bucky, with a snort.

“I’m sure it’ll happen plenty when I’m back down in Delacroix,” says Sam, and he feels Bucky’s arms tense. “Maybe the boys can record it for you.”

“Maybe,” echoes Bucky. He’s quiet for a long moment before he says, “I haven’t talked to them yet. I don’t know how to explain myself. I thought it might get easier when I came back stateside, but it just feels more overwhelming now.”

Sam covers Bucky’s hands with his own, giving them a squeeze. “You just have to tell them it’s the same as any mission. We go out there, we do something scary but important, and then we come back home. It’s all fine as long as you come back home.”

“I know,” Bucky says. “Just this one thing, and then we’ll both be back home.”

“Uh-huh,” says Sam.

“Just one thing,” repeats Bucky, “and then we’ll both be here, and it’ll be home, and it won’t be because of the backsplash or the baseboards. It’ll be because it’s you and me. That’s home.”

Sam doesn’t bother to hide his sniffle this time. “Just that, huh?”

“You’ve got no idea, songbird,” says Bucky, tucking his face against Sam’s neck. “The two of us? You looking at me and actually seeing me? I think that was home even before I remembered what home was.”

He feels himself go very still as his brain makes sense of Bucky’s words, thinks of stilted conversation on a train platform and scowls exchanged in a rearview mirror. It’s not even worth trying to stop his eyes welling up.

“What the hell, Bucky?” Sam croaks, swiping at the tears. “Is this you making me feel better?”

“What?” asks Bucky, smiling against Sam’s neck. “No good?”

Sam shakes his head.

“Sorry, honey,” says Bucky, with a conciliatory kiss to Sam’s pulse point. “How ‘bout a distraction instead?”

With another sniffle: “What kind of distraction?”

The last thing that Sam is expecting is for Bucky to reach out and point at the tiles, now slightly askew with Sam and Bucky’s readjustments and their legs being sprawled out in front of them.

“What, you want to do math?”

“Not exactly.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “Then what?”

“First, I want you to remember we’re so in love that it made you tear up a second ago. Just keep that in your head for a second.”

“Bucky.”

“What, you don’t want to think about how far we’ve come?”

“Bucky.”

“Fine, but you’re going to hate it,” says Bucky. When Sam waves a hand for him to continue, he takes a deep breath and says, “I think I solved your tile thing.”

“No, you didn’t,” says Sam.

Behind him, Bucky shifts a little, then uses his foot to nudge one of the tiles out of its overlap with its neighbor, knocking it out of the herringbone shape. Then, he nudges it again so the short side of one tile sits flush against the long side of another. Straight on, it’s a right angle, but rotated forty-five degrees, it’s…

“Fuck off, I know that didn’t happen,” says Sam, pushing up onto his knees to get a better look. He leans over and replicates the pattern with four more tiles just below it: a perfect herringbone, and tight enough from the offset that the pattern is clear even with a handful of tiles. “What the hell? Was it that easy this whole time?”

“I mean…”

Sam covers his face with his hands. “Maybe you were right,” he says, but it’s garbled behind his hands.

“I don’t speak Dwarvish; can you repeat that?” asks Bucky, and Sam elbows him just because, but then he lets Bucky take his hand and lead him up to bed anyway.

[hetaberia-week]

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧ ⠀⠀it's prompt o'clock !

august 21st - august 27th⠀[ 🍊 ]

day 1: historical / domestic

day 2: betrayal / summer

day 3: university / fairytales

day 4: pets / love language

day 5: royalty / ghosts

day 6: sea / childhood rivalry

day 7: bad habits / gods

+ a free day token for you to use on any day!

not too sure how to tackle a day's prompts? never fear, your free day is here! rather than having a designated free day for this event, we thought it best for you to pick any day to have a free day - just make sure to tag your work with #free day token so we know!

we can't wait to get started! happy creating!

@heta-on-the-books @hetaliahappenings

[ghiralink-week]

hi all! i'm bella (@dykevirgo on tumblr/AO3 and #virgo0916 on discord) and i'm another mod for ghiralink week this year. i'm based in EST time zone and i'm awake and in bed early (so don't expect to see me online at 3am my time 😅).

i will be helping moderate all over but specifically focusing on the tumblr (both NSFW and regular) in terms of reblogging posts from the tag and such. i work full time during the day so i'm mostly available first thing in the morning or in the afternoons. i love ghiralink (and i love ghiralink week) so naturally i volunteered to help cherry out this year 😁

[biteofcherry]

Relish your scream

vampire!Bucky Barnes x female reader

summary: Better the devil you know, but what if going to the Scaretale with someone you're already acquainted with doesn't mean you're completely safe? What if the club isn't your doom, but merely enhances the darkness that was already setting its trap for you?

warnings: vampire!Bucky; dark!Bucky; heavy dub-con; mind compulsion; biting; blood sucking; blood play; forced public nudity (partial); oral (f receiving); sex; captivity; objectification as a kink; conditioning;

word count: 5.4k

Author's Note: I was a little disappointed you voted vampire for Bucky, because there are so many amazing stories with vampire Bucky and I feared I won't be able to create anything fresh. But I wrote it in a specific vibe, amping up the vampire bite into very debauched kind of blood play. Perhaps that can count as something new 😜 This story is the fifth one in the Scaretale universe.

The cab driver was insistent on stopping half a street away from the entrance to the club. He was one of those superstitious people who feared magic tricking him, or a monster luring him to his doom, if he found himself within Scaretale’s range. 

You wanted to claim it’s silly, but the rumor was that the club was created and belonged to a dark fae. Who knows what their magic could do. Maybe the cabbie was right to keep his distance.

Unfortunately, for you it meant that you had to walk down the cracked pavement in your high heels to reach the club. 

It dawned on you much earlier, soon after you agreed to the terms, that meeting him in a club catered to monsters wouldn’t really provide you any safety. It would be his domain while you felt on the edge for the whole evening. Or night. However long he decided it had to last.

But he had that smooth, dark charm about him, making it appear as a reasonable public space to collect the debt. 

As you walked towards the impressive building, which glowed from within like a cursed castle, you tried to convince yourself that the place of your meeting didn’t matter anyway. You wouldn’t have any sort of upper hand no matter the place you sat in. 

Because there was something about James Barnes that put you to attention at any given moment. As if your body was attuned to his presence. Like a deer may be aware of a wolf prowling nearby. 

James was a coworker at the high levels of the international company you both worked for. And sort of a work rival, too. 

He was courteous, always well mannered and classy. Dressed like that, too. He was driven at work, reaching each set goal with unwavering determination and skills. Honestly, you had reasons to admire him and admit he was fucking good at his job. Sometimes you inwardly joked that you want to be like James Barnes when you grow up. 

There wasn’t really any competition between you two, none of you were threatened with the prospect of losing anything if the other’s department scored a few more points in the quarter. 

It was the smidge of inadequacy that made you often eye Barnes as a threat. Coming out of your own insecurities, you suspected. 

You were damn good at your job and at leading people. It’s just that you were… messy. 

Not a complete disaster, but a little chaotic and sometimes lost, sometimes too soft, especially considering the sharks that swam in the ocean of legal (and illegal) deals you worked with. 

Compared to Barnes, you were chaotic and bouncy.

But not everyone could stride through the room like a lethal blade slicing through fabric.

Barnes could. 

Everything about him screamed danger, even when he offered a charming smile, or bought doughnuts for the whole floor. Though you watched people let down their guards around him, treating him like a harmless, cute man. 

Was it only you that experienced that pulse of wariness whenever he walked into a room?

Perhaps, it was that aura of a vampire…

You’re still not sure what prompted you to bet him. Confrontations weren’t your preferred model of operating. Especially towards men you were both fascinated and scared of. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that your bubbly style was as effective as Barnes’ cutthroat smoothness. 

You veiled it as a team challenge (which both of your teams actually took as a fun twist to their usual hard work, including some subtle ribbing). If you won, you’d get to take over Barnes’ fancy office for a whole week.

It’s not like it would bother him much, since he worked evening to sunrise hours, while you were a day worker. 

But you were the messy one and it made you giggle as you thought of leaving your usual chaos in his pristine space. 

When you proposed that, Barnes held your gaze with those incredibly steel-blue eyes. Not a twitch of annoyance on his stupidly handsome face (that half of the skyscraper was pinning after). No, he was seizing you up and calculating his potential gain. Which made your pulse skip. 

You still remembered how his eyes shifted to your pulse point and your thighs clenched as you thought of his teeth sinking into your neck. 

He agreed to the bet, demanding your company, if he won. 

Which he had. 

There was a flood of tangled thoughts and doubts when you realized you agreed to be his for one night. Did he mean his night as his work day, making you do any assistant, slaving work just for the kicks? Or did he mean it as owning you for a night, as in…

His chuckle was like a tap on your cheek, stirring you from your trance when you barged into his office, needing him to explicitly state what exactly he expected of you. Then relief filled you when he explained that he wanted you as his company for a meeting. Said he’s old fashioned like that.

James didn’t mention the dress code, just told you where and what time to come. You could be a brat about it and appear in jeans and a hoodie, but you considered yourself to be honorable and a good sport. You lost a bet, but you wouldn’t be a sore loser, or petty. There was also a part of you that wanted to impress Barnes, to show yourself as someone who could pull off a fancy look. 

In your sparkling red heels and black, silk dress, you walked up the stairs of the Scaretale with your chin raised high. 

The club’s dark interior was a surprise. From the outside it appeared to be glowing, full of light and mischief, but, as you stepped in, velvet darkness wrapped around you like a shawl. 

There were points of light, but they were dimmed. A whisper of mystery and horror slithered around, quickly getting lost in the growing warmth of spicy seduction. 

It was a place known for encouraging lust and romance, but you didn’t expect the sensual brush of it to tease your skin. 

Perhaps it was why your breath hitched when your eyes met James’ across the room. 

His icy eyes always held a particular intensity, but as he watched you now it sent a ripple of something hot and exciting through your body. 

As you neared him, your heart clenched in fear, before restarting with a flutter. James was your coworker, but in this setting you lost any sense of safety around him. He was someone different here. More himself, than the persona he played in public. More the ancient beast. 

And the core of him you met that evening was scaring you.

He greeted you softly, saying your name in a way that sounded intimate and possessive. His hand rested on the small of your back as he led you toward a nook in the wall that was separated from the rest of the floor by an iron-wrought railing and heavy, black curtains draped to the sides. 

There was a rectangular table in the middle of the small room he led you to, with velvet benches surrounding it instead of chairs. Chandeliers dripping black crystals hung above, casting a soft light that didn’t fully disperse the shadows. 

“Please, sit beside me.” James pointed to one side of the table. He kept standing until you sat down, then slid right next to you. 

“Would you like something to drink?” He asked, sliding closer when you tried to put a few inches of space between you. 

“White wine, please.” You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap. 

A few seconds later a waitress appeared by the railing, though you didn’t see James summon anyone. Well, they sure had some top, attentive staff in here. You were surprised when Barnes ordered a specific brand of wine, stressing to bring it sweet.

“Why sweet?” You liked most of the whites, including some of the dry, so it didn’t really matter to you.

When James’ gaze flicked to you, it appeared it mattered greatly to him. 

“Because you’re sweet.” He stated. 

A sudden thought of him referring to your blood’s flavor made you both hot and extremely cold with terror, but his next words made that reaction appear silly.

“Wearing all those pastels and headbands with crystals and pearls. And everytime we happen to be in the same meeting, you’re always drinking pink grapefruit soda. You’re a sweetling.” 

His eyes slowly dragged down your form. You couldn’t help the quickening of your heart rate as you felt his gaze move along your body. Again, you were certain his focus lingered on where your veins pulsed beneath your skin. 

“I admit I’m quite surprised to see you in black,” when he spoke, it was lighter, more teasing. There was even a hint of that charming smile that disarms people.

“Thought it’s best to match you, since I’m your company for this important meeting,” you shrugged. 

He still didn’t express what your expected role was. If it was a business meeting, was he going to lean on you for advice? Or were you an arm candy, only there to provide a nice accent and be a trinket of power? Many conservative men still conducted their business meetings, or public appearances with that mindset. Maybe vampires did too.

“I appreciate it.” James smiled at you. There was a satisfied gleam in his eyes, but darker and hungrier than simple appreciation of your thoughtfulness. 

A voice in your head whispered that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to cater to a monster's whims, even to those of a polished, cultured one. Perhaps it was even worse than if you goaded a barely leashed werewolf. 

Because James was incredibly smart and cunning, and you were beginning to suspect that he had the ability to manipulate your reactions without you even realizing you were playing into his game. 

When the waitress appeared with your glass of wine, James took it from her and handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his cold ones, the contact sending a jolt down your spine. His skin was cold, yet you felt a sense of warmth unfurl in your belly. 

As if his mere touch heated up your blood. Which had to be a very dangerous thing, considering he was a blood sucking vampire. 

“Mhmm, you smell sweet, too.” He hummed, tilting his head so that his nose almost brushed a spot behind your ear.

“James!” You gasped, fingers tightening on the thin stem of your wine glass. 

A surge of trepidation took over as your instincts reminded you of being in proximity of the most dangerous predator. It wasn’t a good omen when a vampire commented on your tempting smell. Because it meant at some point he might want to verify if your taste matched. 

Yet the cold thought of it sucked your nipples into straining points. 

You took a sip of your wine. Then another one, in hope of relaxing your body enough to hide certain reactions. 

“Call me Bucky, please.” His voice sounded like a seductive whisper. It reminded you of a hot tickle against your ear, or neck, which you sometimes experienced when writhing on your bed amidst a wet dream. 

If your imagination was wilder, you’d wonder if this vampire had something to do with the sex dreams which occasionally haunted you on those rare stormy nights. 

“Okay, Bucky,” you smiled up at him, hanging onto the comfort of breaking a certain barrier between you two, by being allowed to use his nickname. You didn’t think you heard anyone at work call him that. 

His eyes darkened. He traced his fingers along the back of your neck, before settling his whole, big hand on your shoulder.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“Bucky,” you said it softly, sensing unbearable tension growing between the two of you. 

“Sweetling.” His low growl reverberated right against your clit. 

You would hope he didn’t notice you clenching your thighs, but with how his own leg was pressed to yours, there was no doubt he felt the shift. 

Suddenly, his eyes sharpened, his gaze briefly shifting above your head before returning to you. His hold on your shoulder relocated as his arm smoothed around and down your back, his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you closer to his side. 

“Don’t speak.” Bucky ordered in a hushed tone. “Don’t engage, even if he tries to address you. Just sit quietly beside me and drink your wine. And follow my lead.”

“An accessory,” you nodded, taking a sip of sweet alcohol. You didn’t feel particularly disappointed with being reduced to quiet arm candy. It wasn’t your meeting, nor for a business of your department, so you felt no urge to prove yourself. 

“You’ll be good, sweetling.” He declared, as if you had no option but to obey. 

As his eyes held your gaze, you felt something shift inside you. Like a thin string wrapping itself around your throat. Its other end seemed to be in Bucky’s hand. An invisible leash that compelled you to follow his lead, just like he said you should. 

Compelled… The word echoed in your head, scratching against your skull with some knowledge you couldn’t remember. 

You focused on it and on the sweet taste of the wine as someone entered your space. You cast a quick glance at the large man, but remained glued to Bucky’s side like he wanted. Their words flew in and out of your ears, actual information barely sticking with your awareness. You were more entranced with Bucky’s voice.

And the way his fingers started running up and down your arm. Cold, yet enticing that very lively sensation. 

Words about takeover alerted your mind, but then that shiny, invisible leash tugged on you gently and your brain settled back into its comfort of focusing on Bucky. 

At some point, his teasing fingers closed around your hand and he brought it to his lips. He kissed the soft part below your thumb then pressed his mouth to your wrist. Right over where your pulse danced. 

Your body tensed at once, a pained gasp leaving your lips as Bucky’s fangs pierced your skin.

He bit you without any warning. Like it was his privilege. 

Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at him with a flare of betrayal. His gaze shifted from the other man to settle on you, even as his lips remained sealed into your wrist, sucking slow sips of your warm blood.

Be good, sweetling. His voice filled your head. 

It hurts. You weren’t even aware that your whine didn’t form into actual words spoken aloud, but was merely a pathetic sound accompanying your thoughts. 

Does it? Bucky’s eyebrow arched as he drew more of your blood in, then swiped his tongue along your sensitive, punctured skin. 

You blinked, dazed. When he bit you there was pain, but as he sucked you… You felt the throbbing in your wrist, but its echo was a more pleasurable beat that had your nipples and clit thrumming. 

You watched Bucky lick his lips clean and return to his conversation with ease, as if taking your blood was nothing more than sipping a drink. Which he did again a few minutes later, lifting your hand and sinking his fangs a little lower into your forearm. 

A soft, little cry spilled out of your mouth, but your legs parted wider to ease your throbbing clit. 

There was no previous agreement to Bucky drinking from you, yet somehow you didn’t resist as he took. Your body simply molded to his demand. Your brain resisted, angry and sobbing at the inability to fight, but that rebellion came and went like sparks of a badly functioning electricity. 

You didn’t want it, didn’t consent to it, but it felt so good. Made you a good kind of dizzy. Ligheaded, like you had one glass of champagne too much. Your usually buzzing body felt softened and pliant. 

For once you were calm and nestled, not a chaotic shard not fitting to the surroundings.

You spread your legs wider. The table separated and obscured the view of you from the stranger, but you had an inkling that the arousal trickling between your folds wafted into the air. 

It sure reached Bucky’s senses. Behave, his hand on your waist tightened its grip.

I am, you boldly replied to the phantom voice in your head and promptly brought the glass of wine to your lips. You drank half of it in one go. 

A part of you expected Bucky to act rashly. To show irritation or impatience, but then again you never saw him lose the winter cool of his demeanor. He didn’t react to your mental hiccup either, simply carrying on the conversation with the other monster. 

However, his hand smoothed up your arm slowly. Fingertips danced over the puncture wounds which he sealed with a swipe of his tongue, then traveled upwards. 

He took the thin strap of your dress between his thumb and forefinger and dragged it down your shoulder. Black fabric covering your breast fell down, swaying in a soft roll right above your nipple. Just when you thought his retaliation was driven to the max, Bucky’s hand skimmed over your collarbone and down to the swell of your breast.

Voice not wavering even once, as he kept talking over some business details, Bucky slipped his fingers under the silk of your dress and took your tit out. 

No! Your humiliated consciousness screamed silently. 

Bucky remained unphased. He exposed your breast, running his fingertips around the areola and flicking your puckered nipple. 

When the other man started talking, simply continuing the conversation as if you weren’t lewdly displayed in front of him, Bucky tipped you back. The arm around you tightened, supporting your back. His other hand cupped your breast as he sank his teeth into the soft tissue. 

More wetness pooled in your core, even as pain from the bite zapped your synapses. 

You were nothing but a chalice of wine from which Bucky sipped whenever he wanted. However he wanted to. 

A morsel to bite and chew slowly. 

He didn’t seal that bite right away, so the blood trickled down slowly as he helped you back into a sitting position, cuddled to his side. You felt the warm liquid gather atop your nipple into a ruby drop. 

Bucky swiped it with his thumb, teasing your nub as he did. 

When he brought the thumb to his mouth to suck it clean, you stared up at him in horror and awe. That handsome face with chiseled jawline and cheekbones, pale pink lips wrapped around a marble white, thick thumb. As he released his finger, you saw a flash of his teeth - a smudge of your blood covering them. 

His thumb was coated with Bucky’s saliva as he brought it down to rub over the bite, sealing your wound. 

The hand on your waist gripped your elbow when you attempted to reach for the strap and cover yourself back. Leave it, Bucky’s low command resounded in your head. What?! No! Why? It was indecent! He wasn’t even drinking from you anymore. Just holding you partially naked and humiliated. 

Because I wish so and you’re mine to do whatever I please.

There wasn’t even a seductive lilt of teasing to his tone. It was a richly dark declaration of ownership you didn’t expect.

You wanted to protest, to scream it out at him that you didn’t want it. That even if some aspects of his actions were arousing you, you weren’t his to treat like a toy, or blood bag. That’s when your memory flashed back to the exact conversation you had with Bucky when you negotiated the rules of the bet. 

What you interpreted as company for one night, for this particular meeting, was never in fact stated as limited. Bucky never said for one evening. He only demanded that you’d give him your company. 

Now, his voice returned, as calm as before, sit still and drink your wine, or I’ll take your other tit out.

Anger and despair flared inside you, as hot as the wave of dark excitement that turned the fabric of your panties into a soaked mess sticking to your folds. 

What he said and did to you was bolder and filthier than you tried with any of your former lovers. It didn’t only push, but crossed your boundaries. But even as he did something so unpredictable like undressing you in public, there was calculated deliberation in it. Cold, lethal precision strumming your responsive pressure points. 

Will you let him drink from me? For some reason, you clenched your fingers on Bucky’s suit jacket, clinging to him as terror of what might actually happen took over.

No. You’re mine. Came his instant, firm response. 

But there was only silence when your panicked voice asked, Will you kill me?

He left you hanging with that worry as he wrapped up his meeting. The wine kept your blood rushing warm, as did Bucky’s closeness, but your heart started to drag with growing dread. Needing something to anchor yourself to, you stared at the rings on Bucky’s fingers. 

It was only when his voice reached your ears that your head snapped up and you realized the other man was gone. 

“You did really well for your first time, sweetling.” Bucky’s fingers gently took your chin. 

Despite the allure of his eyes and his hold on you, the spark of dread spread into a sticky web that filled you with all sorts of cold, breath-stealing fears. His choice of words was deliberate. Everything Bucky did was. So it meant he planned on there being a second, a third, and more events similar to that night. 

Bucky took your empty wine glass and placed it on the table. Then he readjusted your dress and helped you up onto your feet. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, muttering something about getting you a proper coat. 

A waitress waited by the exit, handing you a to-go cup of something hot as Bucky led you toward the door. Your fingers wrapped around the warm cup, scenting something sweet. 

You had a thought of making a scene, making a run for it, but this place was filled with monsters who, undoubtedly, would be on his side. And Bucky was a damn vampire, who could probably catch you before you made half a step. 

Also, whatever was in that cup was really tempting you to drink. And his hand on your back felt nice, too.

As Bucky guided you down the steps, a sleek, black car stopped at the curb. Some young man jumped from the driver’s side and gave Bucky keys with a deep bow. Huh, you didn’t know they had valets here. 

Bucky helped you into the passenger’s seat and buckled your seatbelt. So engulfed by the cozy warmth and spicy scent, you didn’t think to use the moment of him walking to the driver’s side to try and escape. 

But the question returned, rolling out on your tongue as Bucky cut through the city with speed right on the edge of limit. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

“Not yet.” Bucky’s calm, simple response was like a blade piercing through your chest. 

“The process is more complicated. There are rules-” he paused, hearing your intake of breath. When he looked at you, you were curling in on yourself and leaning against the side door, like you wanted to blend into it and disappear. 

Something flashed in his blue eyes and after a moment you were pulling away from the door and sitting back in your seat. 

Bucky’s fingers cupped your chin. Even with only one hand on the steering wheel he had full control of the car. 

“I’m not disposing of you, sweetling.” He assured you. “You’re my feeder. And will become my companion.”

Companion. It echoed in your head. You agreed to be his company. But you didn’t know it meant something more for a vampire. 

The bites on your body pulsed with awareness, reminding you of the way he sunk his teeth into you. You wondered if his cock would sink into you with the same seductive firmness. 

Your previous dizziness from the blood loss was nothing compared to the chaos that Bucky’s revelation brought. On the way to his estate he explained more, stating details of his plans for you as if he was reporting something obvious. Each sentence of the fate he weaved for you, however, leashed on your skin like a lick of flogger. Hurting and pushing your mind toward a cloudy space. 

With some last remnants of panicked will, you attempted to run when he parked in front of an impressive estate. He caught you in a blink of an eye. Then those blue eyes were staring into yours and an invisible leash tugged on you, calming you into compliance. 

He made you drink that hot chocolate, which you got in the to-go cup, as he steered you through the corridors of the mansion. Rich sweetness filled your mouth and brought a sense of regeneration. 

The cup dropped forgotten when Bucky brought you into his bedroom. Somewhere between his words about keeping you here with him for two years, until you learned all the rules, all the expectations and attuned to your role at his side, he unzipped your dress and pushed it down to the floor. 

Your hands against him held zero strength as he spread you on his massive bed, your attempts at fighting him off melting as his teeth scraped along your naked body. 

“Your blood tastes like decadent chocolate” Bucky hummed against your hip bone. “I bet your cunt tastes just as sweet.” 

He ripped away your soaked panties then spread your thighs wide apart. His lips mouthed against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. You knew there were some crucial arteries there and you wondered how much it would hurt when he bit into one. 

But he didn’t. Instead, Bucky kissed further up. He licked the seam between your thigh and cunt, then traced your outer lips with his tongue. 

It was atop your mound, a breath away from your clit, where he slowly, torturously slow, sunk his teeth in. 

You screamed and he held you down.

He didn’t suck your blood right away, but pulled back and watched it trickle down onto your glistening pussy. Dark red juice dripped down your clit and between your swollen folds. 

Bucky dove in. Feasting on your cunt with reverence and hunger he didn’t display before. He licked your blood and your slick, mixed them on you and on his tongue. His growling, near animalistic sounds vibrated against your sensitive core. 

He made you come while he made you bleed. Licking and swallowing your wetness; holding your hips down in his strong grip as your body twisted and writhed in pleasure-and-pain. 

Then he drew another blinding climax out of you, driving two of his ringed fingers into your sopping cunt and at the same time sinking his teeth back into the open bite atop your mound. 

He closed your wound, but didn’t wipe away the blood as he kissed up your body. When he bit your breast, he let the blood drip down the swell of it, too, before licking it off your skin in tantalizing, sensual strokes. 

You hurt from the bites, but Bucky’s mouth and touch brought you so much exquisite pleasure. 

He drank from both your breasts, smudging your blood all over his mouth as he kissed your skin through the ruby mess. Closed the wounds with a teasing lick of his tongue, before flicking it against your hardened nipple and sucking on it so hard you felt that suck on your clit. 

“You’re delicious, sweetling.” Bucky rasped against your ear. “And such a good girl for me.” 

You felt the nudge of his cock between your folds. Your hips rocked up eagerly, but your weakened arms drew between your bodies to push him away.

Sensations were overwhelming. You feared that your brain might completely shut down, if Bucky added to it the stretch of his cock and ripping pleasure of being fucked. 

Gently, he pried your hands away from his chest and placed your arms next to your head on the mattress. He pinned them down as he rolled his hips into you. 

“Gotta do it, sweetling,” he hushed your mewls. “Gotta break your body before sunrise, so your mind starts to learn to sleep all through the sunny day.” 

“It’ll take weeks to fully break you.” Bucky sneaked one of his hands between your bodies, to guide his cock into your entrance. “I’ll exhaust you over and over again, until your body conditions itself to shutting down with sunlight and waking up at sunset. Until you’re molded to me.” 

Your lips parted on a strained moan as he slowly penetrated you. 

Just like you suspected, Bucky drove his cock into you with a firm, steady stroke, just like he sunk his teeth into your skin. 

As his dick stretched your pussy, Bucky kissed you. Sensual and languid. Getting you drunk on his lips and taste like the most potent wine. He welcomed your yielding moan with a victorious growl.

Then, as the head of his cock nestled against your cervix and he bottomed out, Bucky’s fangs dipped into your lips. 

You clenched around him, your body tensing like a cord as he drew blood from your mouth. He sipped on you, forcing some of the metallic sweetness of your own blood onto your tongue. 

Bucky soothed your lips with a swipe of his tongue, before lifting his weight on his forearms. He looked down at you - all dark, ruthless beauty of him, with eyes glinting winter storm and mouth red with your blood. 

There were smudges of red on his torso, as well, from where his body pressed into the bloody mess he created as he drank from various spots on your chest and belly. 

“You already take me so well and feed me so sweetly,” he said, licking remnants of your taste off his bottom lip, “you’ll learn to take all the pleasure and pain I give you. And someday you’ll take my blood and I’ll show you what ecstasy of a vampire feels like.”

With that he withdrew, only to slam back in a hard snap. Your body jolted, your back arching. 

You were so weak, so lightheaded. Exhaustion was pulling you into darkness. But the way Bucky was fucking you bursted through that dark with fireworks. His name was a broken cry on your lips, so soft it may have been a whisper. Or a prayer. 

“I deliberately had the sheets changed to white.” Bucky mused, driving into you harder, making your legs jerk helplessly with each thrust of his hips. 

“Wanted to see the stains from your cum and blood on it. You make such a pretty mess.”

Your consciousness drifted away completely after he tipped you into another orgasm, relishing in the way you screamed and clenched around him. Your body was boneless as he chased his own release, groaning it not soon after you floated into sleep. 

To him you looked most beautiful: spread out on the crumpled sheets, your body smeared with blood and bearing marks of his bite. Stains of red and acidic wetness splattered the sheets between your legs. 

Bucky leaned down, one more time biting into your mound. A shallow wound this time. Just so he could watch your blood slowly trickle down in a thin stream and mix with his cum dripping out of your fluttering pussy.

You remained unconscious when he cleaned you up. As well when he ripped away soiled sheets and replaced them with a set of fresh ones and climbed into bed next to you. He held you in his embrace as you slept through the day that stretched outside; heavy, black-out curtains preventing a single sunray from sneaking inside. 

When you’d wake up late in the afternoon, Bucky was going to provide you with a hearty meal and adequate vitamins. He’d tell you more of the rules. Then he’d break your body again. 

[remuslupinslittleslut]

No Cocks in Cunts.

It's been a while since I wrote reader insert and I feel a bit unsure of the quality, but I felt I had to just get back in the saddle and write something.

Prompt: Reader doesn't enjoy penetration but the boys make it fun for her anyway.

This is for @mavelfan1 and everyone who voted for one shots for tumblr on my poll. I love you and have some smut.

Masterlist.

Original post here.

His hands rub your legs, trying to provide comfort. “What do you feel about getting eaten out?” He asks you, before winking and leaning down to kiss up your legs.

“I uh, feel, I think good, about that,” you say, forcing the words out, cheeks heated as Sirius’ lips continue their way up your legs. “Just don’t, you know, get in there.”

Kiss. “I won’t.” Kiss. “I promise, I’ll take such good care of you princess.” Kiss.

Your whole body shudders as his lips almost touch your wet core with every kiss pressed to your thighs. “Siri,” you whimper, “please…”

He chuckles, again, and this time you can feel the hot breath against your pussy. He’s soon silenced, as his tongue darts out and licks a stripe along your lips, stopping only to swirl around your clit.

Remus is still balancing his body weight on one arm, face above yours, lips having been moved from your forehead in order for his eyes to graze your face. As your body is opening up to the sensations of Sirius’ tongue, however, Remus gets impatient and your boyfriend leans down over you to kiss your lips.

It’s soft at first, a gentle press of lips, but he soon escalates it, licking across your lips and nipping softly at them. This forces you to open your mouth and he’s quick to enter, curious tongue finding it’s way around yours.

Between your thighs, Sirius is working his tongue all the way around your cunt, licking and sucking, making heat start to build in your core as you feel the finish line getting closer and closer.

“Go on,” James says, from somewhere on the bed, with both other boys’ mouths on you you’ve lost all of your attention span. “Come for us, come on Sirius’ tongue, be a good girl now.”

Your back arches as you grind your hips against Sirius’ face, forcing his face deeper into your cunt, making him taste every last piece of you as his tongue makes it way up and down, in long licks.

Remus pulls away before Sirius does, his hands on your cheeks and holding you still, eyes following your every move. “You’re fuckin beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, kissing you softly again on the lips.

When you have calmed down from your orgasm, you find that you’re the only one who got to cum, which somehow feels a bit unfair.

“So,” you start, heat rising to your cheeks again, as you feel their eyes on you, all aware that you’re about to say something cheeky. “What were the other things we could do that wasn’t…”

“Cock in cunt?” James provides, earning himself a shove from Remus and a laugh from Sirius.

“Yes,” you say, avoiding eye contact, “that.”

They share another look, and your stomach drops slightly, like when going on a roller coaster, knowing that the creativity about to flow would be exciting to say the least. They seemed to share more of a silent conversation than just a look, and soon your body was moved across the bed, placing you flat on your stomach.

“So,” Sirius says from somewhere behind you, “you just tell us if there’s something you don’t like, and then we’ll stop and do something else, yeah?”

You nod your head, anticipation rising in your chest. Your lack of verbal confirmation earns you a soft slap to the ass, and you manage an “okay.”

You hear the soft sounds of fabric moving, along with clinking of hardware, likely their belts, and the smacking sound of kissing. You love knowing that they can get off on each other, that you don’t always have to be the center of focus, even though you usually ended up in that position anyways, not actually minding one bit.

“Okay, we’ve decided on something each, and we won’t tell you beforehand, but you can choose who you want to start with,” Remus explains, reaching a warm hand to rub the flesh and fat of your ass. “So take your pick darling.”

You shudder at the thought, raking your mind for who you think would be the most fun to start with.

“Remmy,” you say it the same second you’ve decided, the choice coming easily to you. You’ve missed his hands on your body and you can soon feel the withdrawal in an uncomfortable way. “Please,” you add, trying to make him hurry.

“Coming, darling,” he says, straddling your thighs and leaning down to kiss along your spine. “Padfoot, lube,” he demands, one hand leaving your body.

Soon after, you can feel the cold fluid hit your backside, falling into your crack, leaving your arse all cold and wet. Remus’ warm fingers rub through the liquid, running it along your backside and all the way to your front, allowing it to mix with your own natural wetness. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you when his heavy cock drops down, slapping your ass and gliding along the lube.

“Remmy,” you whine it this time, desperate for more sensation.

He chuckles, but guides his cock to the crack between your thighs nonetheless, allowing the length of it to rub along your pussy, the head pressing against your clit.

“How’s that feel baby?” He asks, hips thrusting his cock back and forth in between your thighs.

“So-oo-ooo good.” It comes out a moan, the sensation against your already sensitive clit sending sparks of pleasure through your body with every brush of his head.

“See that,” he muses, “making perfectly good use of your pretty cunt, no need to go inside love.”

His pace slows down, hips grinding in hard, intentional motions against you. It starts as a throbbing somewhere within the pit of your tummy, small waves crashing through your body until it’s convulsing in pleasure.

“That’s my good girl,” Remus says, leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

His warm body is moved away from you and for only a moment you are left alone on the bed.

“Hi darling, my turn?” James says, reaching two strong arms out for you, moving your body to turn you, making you face him.

“Hi Jamie,” you say, smiling sweetly at him, reaching your own hands out for him, pulling him down into a searing kiss.

For a few minutes you stay like that, tangled up in a kiss with James, hands in his hair and breathing calming down after your orgasm.

His hands are rubbing down your sides, trying to keep you warm in your nude state; he never had any issues with that, his blood was almost always at a boiling temperature.

You don’t know what it is or where it came from, but suddenly, there’s a low vibrating sound from somewhere in the room and before you can really think it over, the object is pressed against your cunt.

“Ah!” You squeal, the vibrations causing your back to arch and your hips to grind. It’s so much, almost too much, after coming twice, the feeling is almost painful.

James dips his head into your neck, kissing the skin and breathing in your scent.

“You’re delicious, babe,” he murmurs, licking a long stripe up your neck. It’s only minutes before your body starts shaking, a blinding orgasm taking your body to somewhere in outer space. “Shh, love,” James is whispering, body still atop yours. “Shh, just gotta take it, just take it.”

You drift away from this reality to the sound of James’ soft voice.

*

When you awake, it is entangled in a warm embrace, all of your boys having fitted themselves around you on the engorged bed. There are limbs and love everywhere and you find your breathing is strained, but you don’t mind it one bit.

“Morning darling,” Sirius says, pulling you closer.

“It’s morning?” You ask, confused, making him chuckle into your hair.

“Not really,” his voice is soft but raspy in the mornings, it tastes like honey when you breathe it it. “Still very early, afraid you passed out a bit.”

He’s chewing his bottom lip, a tic you’ve noticed him having whenever he’s nervous or unsure of something.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching your hand to cup his cheek.

His eyes flutter close at your touch, his cheeks turning a soft rose color. “I just…” he breaks off, and you know it best to not pressure him, but rather to just allow him to take his time. “I feel really bad about last night, I didn’t know you weren’t in to that and I almost made you do it,” he shudders at the memory. “Even with safe words in place I’m scared we’ll hurt you, I mean, we went pretty hard on you after that…”

You smile at him, brushing your thumb across his skin. “You don’t have to worry about it, my love,” you say, and you know that you mean it. “I know that I can always say no, and it was only proven when I did, and you stopped. You did exactly what you were supposed to, I’m just sorry to disappoint you with the whole no penetration thing.” The last bit is meant as a joke, as you are sure that they can make perfect do without it, but Sirius’ eyes widen still.

“We’re not missing out on anything, besides, Moony fuckin ruined my arse while James used that toy on you, it was really fucking hot, I’ve gotta say.”

It’s your time to shudder at his words, finding the thought of Sirius being fucked by Remus, turned on by watching you with James a very sexy one.

“Really?” You ask, giving him a smirk, “what was it like?”

You reach a hand down to tug at his briefs, freeing his half-hard cock and taking it into your hand.

He groans, turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Baby…” it’s a whine, music to your ears. “You were so beautiful, all blissed out, holding on to our Jamie for dear life, he’s got such a nice back, oh,” your hand is moving, a soft flick of the wrist that makes him moan. “Fuck, and Moony, oh my Moony, he’s so big, feels like he’s splitting you open, you couldn’t take it, you’d have to be all warmed up, and he shows no mercy, just fucks me so hard, while telling me not to take my eyes off of you.”

His eyes are screwed shut, but his hand reaches down to touch you, pinching and rubbing at your clit.

“I can image,” you tell him, “I felt him, Remmy, he’s so big, you did so good taking him.” You know Sirius always goes soft for praise, and your words send shivers through his body, convulsing in the shine of your appreciation. “You’re so good, so good to me, so good at touching me, I love you.”

Sirius’ body shakes as his breath gets heavy and his fingers toy with you in a rushed and impatient way. “Love you too baby,” he says, leaning his head in closer to yours, foreheads pushed together.

You come together, fingers sticky and thighs shaking, breathes shared between the two of you. When you’ve calmed down a bit, he leans in to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes, giving his usual chuckle.

“So was that your plan? If I’d chosen you first?”

He grins at the thought, pulling you closer into him. “Nah,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I would’ve sat you on my face, maybe tried suggesting a sixty-nine.”

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so be warned if he's not someone you like to read about. Contains swearing, descriptions of violence and killing. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 3,399

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. The next chapter is here and as you voted for, their first kiss is here. Honestly I'm not overly happy with this chapter but I'm excited for the next parts I have planned going forward. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight(here) | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven(coming soon)

——————

“I understand Joker is a very busy man and he has a meal organised soon but will he actually be joining us tonight?” The servant tensed when he was cornered by the Captain of the crew now staying in the palace. Under the intense stare and fear that these unknown pirates could become violent without warning, he shifted uncomfortably out of the added fear that he could say the wrong thing and bring the true terrifying anger of the King down on him. “Well?”

“U-um Joker has um…” The servant stammer out before clearing his throat and controlling his fear. His ruler was more terrifying than any of these men combined and he had to remember that and accomplish his tasks to the same standard as he would any other day. “Seats have been specifically assigned for Joker and the elite officers so he should be attending tonight.” His answer seemed to settle the Captain and with nothing else needed he left, breathing a sigh of relief when he was out of his sight. The Captain however felt new nerves begin to rise. 

He would finally learn who Joker was. Given how lavish the palace was he was more and more sure he was just some criminal that got lucky in creating a weapons empire. The only real threat was the power in his name and ‘elite officers’ in his employ. Where it just the two of them alone in a room together he was quietly confident that he could overpower and take Joker out if need be. Still though he and his men were on their best behaviour. Already they had countless ambitious plans in mind for later.

When the weapons were safely loaded into their ships and their hosts were too drunk to intervene they’d take what they could and what wouldn’t be immediately noticed until they were long gone and safely on the seas. Of course they’d dispose of Joker’s men that would be joining them and wait an appropriate amount of time before having word sent of their defeat. Their crew would change their alias and ship name and sell the weapons on. It was the perfect plan and given how relaxed the security was here in Dressrosa, he really had nothing to worry about. Allowing himself to relax the Captain stepped out into the Palace’s grounds and sought out the closest servant to grab him a drink. In what felt like no time at all he was being summoned to the banquet room. 

As he walked through the corridor, the rest of his crew slowly began to join him from other corridors until they were all led inside the enormous room already filled with the most delicious smells from the finest looking food awaiting to be served and feasted on. Multiple tables were set up and carefully arranged to make room for all of the guests while servants lined the wall, awaiting to be of assistance. The lower ranking members of the Captain’s crew and the lower ranked subordinates of Joker’s crew took the longer tables to the back of the room to mingle amongst themselves. One table at the top of the room stood out and it was clear no one was to go near it expect the Captain and his right and left hands. One servant led the three men to the ornate table and instructed them to sit. The three were spaced out, most likely to seem as though they were to mingle too but nervously the Captain also felt like this was the perfect way to keep everyone separated and helpless. Trying to keep those paranoid thoughts at bay, he reached for the already poured drink in front of him only to freeze. What if the glass was poisoned?

Thankfully no one was nearby to notice his hesitation and even if they had they had no time to mention it because from outside the banquet hall the sound of footsteps drew closer. Joker’s crew immediately silenced their conversations and rose from their seats. While other pirates fell quiet they remained sitting, watching curiously and waiting. The Captain watched as the banquet room doors opened and one by one people entered, each looking more and more intimidating. They all stopped by their designated seats until only two opposite the Captain remained vacant. Nervously the man licked his lips, wondering why two seats were empty. Vaguely he recalled some of his men mentioning coming across one of Joker’s playthings while they were bathing. Dread filled him then. He remembered the call where Joker mentioned his new lover. Had that been who they meant? His head whipped around in time to see you enter the room. 

You walked completely relaxed, gaze lazily sliding over the men sitting at their tables. While you spotted where your three targets were sat you gave no visible indication or reaction to where they would be sitting. As much as Doflamingo had promised the pleasure in killing them would be yours, you didn’t fully trust him to do something and pretend it was just coincidence that they were the ones targeted. When you met Diamante’s stare you smirked slightly, seeing that he was watching you carefully. Doflamingo had most likely asked him to watch for any giveaways that indicated who broke into your room earlier and from the slight annoyance in his eyes you knew he didn’t see anything. Smiling sweetly you stepped to your designated seat and lazily folded your arms on the back of it, settling your gaze firmly on the guest of honour capturing his attention. 

The Captain knew he probably shouldn’t ogle you so openly but how could he not? Everything about your appearance demanded attention. Your choice in clothing highlighted your form perfectly and showed just enough skin to catch the eye of others while still leave them wanting to see more. Whoever Joker was, he was a lucky man to have you on his arm and in his bed. Despite how attractive you were, what captured the Captain even more so was your relaxed attitude. Everyone else in Joker’s ranks stood tall and almost tense, waiting for his arrival, but you? You were completely at ease even when Joker’s purposeful steps began to approach. Everything told the Captain to at least turn his head and finally have his curiosity answered about the identity of the man he was scamming now but he didn’t want to look away from the force of your stare. Slowly he swallowed hard when your lips curved slightly into a playful smile and he heard his own crew begin to mutter and whisper as they tried to make out Joker’s face.

Then the ripple of shock and fear washed through the banquet hall when Doflamingo came into view, the feeling so visceral that the Captain shuddered without even seeing who it was that was drawing near. Then in what felt like a blink he made out the shape of someone standing next to you and finally you turned your head and seemed to break him from his spell. The Captain looked and froze completely to see the grinning face of Doflamingo Donquixote. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he had made Doflamingo one of the targets of his scams. Had he known, he never would have done it. Fear gripped him as he now realised he and his men were trapped in the Warlord’s base, his entire island. They were screwed. There was no way they were getting out of this. Unless…had they done enough to keep the man fooled? If they saw the scam through to the end could they make it back to their ship safely. “Do-doflamingo, sir! I-it’s an honour! O-or would you still prefer I call you Joker?”

“Either’s fine.” Doflamingo grinned, the frightened expression he was witness to was perfect and there was still so much more fun to come. “We’re all allies here.”

“Aww poor man’s terrified.” Your cheerful voice broke the tension as you, Doflamingo and the rest of the family slid into your seats. The Captain glanced at you, finding it easier to breath when he wasn’t looking at the man in charge. “Just relax. You’ll feel better once you’ve had a drink.” The Captain glanced at the untouched drink still in his hand and his previous paranoia came back. What if this banquet was truly a final meal? Was it all poison? As if reading his thoughts your laugh drifted up. The Captain all but flinched when you rose slightly in your seat and leant across the table to settle your hand on his to softly coax the glass out of his trembling grip. His eyes widened while you took a sip. You set the glass back into his hand and sat back in your seat while licking the stray droplet of alcohol from your lip. “See? Harmless.”

The Captain watched as Doflamingo’s hand settled firmly on your leg when you were back in your seat in a clear show of possession and quickly he looked away from you and threw back his drink. It might have been harmless but you were very dangerous. The last thing he needed was to succeed in his scam but get killed because Doflamingo didn’t like how he was looking at you. The Captain felt relief when the servants appeared with the many plates of food, managing to break the tension and everyone seemed to completely relax. Conversation began to surge up and all previous worries eased back,  the Captain being pulled into idle conversation with a member of Doflamingo’s family obsessed with art. While he wasn’t truly interested it was better to engage with the older woman than risk dying early.

Doflamingo leant in to speak in your ear, his voice low enough so only you would hear him. “And people call me the scary one.”

“What do you mean?” You asked softly, mouth hidden behind your own glass as you turned your head slightly towards him.

“You’re like a completely different person. Being sweet and nice?” He chuckled while you smirked. “Truly terrifying how easily you can pretend to be comfortable in a room filled with pirates.”

“I’’m always sweet and nice. Besides, who says I’m pretending?” You asked innocently. “I’ve never been uncomfortable here and none of the new additions here are going to change that.”

“Not even the ones who got a little too familiar with you?” Doflamingo asked, the tone in his voice hardening slightly. He watched you carefully to see if you’d subconsciously look in the direction of the men you had refused to identify. Unfortunately for him, you kept your sights firmly on his face, your calm smile unmoving. 

“Not even them.” You insisted before taking a sip of your drink. You dropped your free hand onto his that remained on your leg and gave it a reassuring pat. Turning your head fully you leant in to murmur “This isn’t my first time having to play at being a pirate’s lover so stop worrying. As long as I get the ones I want, I won’t ruin your plan. Deal?” Your only answer was Doflamingo’s chuckle in your ear and his glass clinking against yours.

———-

For the remainder of the banquet, the sound of laughter and conversation didn’t stop. Through it all you noticed a few of the pirate crew becoming more at ease, no longer shooting nervous glances towards Doflamingo. Either they had enough alcohol in their systems now to have a lack of fear or they believed that the Warlord truly had no idea he was being deceived. You almost felt bad for them. Almost. When the evening was winding down you’d found your chair pulled closer so you were lounging against Doflamingo’s side while he spoke with the Captain who was beginning to slur his words slightly as he thanked Doflamingo for his generosity and promised him he and his crew would be valuable additions to his numbers. 

You felt Doflamingo’s body tense and knew his patience was beginning to fray and he was building up to finally enacting his revenge against the crew. Some of the other members at the table realised too and began to move from their seats, the guests failing to notice their movements. Slowly you pulled out from Doflamingo’s hold and allowed him to stand.

“Everyone before we end this wonderful feast we have one more treat for the evening.” He announced with a broad grin while his guests cheered out. “It’s a game I like to call survival.” Immediately the cheering stopped and the drunken faces still conscious immediately sobered, terror flooding their bodies. “While I applaud you all for thinking you could steal from me and lie, I can’t let it go unpunished. So I’m going to give you all a five minute head start. If you can make it to your ship, you can leave with your lives. If you make it to the streets of Dressrosa but get caught, you’ll be sent to our Coliseum and fight for the rest of your lives. If you’re still in the palace when you get caught? You die. Your time starts now.” 

The reaction was immediate, the subordinates of the pirate crew scrambled from their seats and rushed for the doors, staggering and hurrying from the banquet hall. Any of their friends that were sleeping off their meal and overindulgence of drink were abandoned. Still sitting in their seats were the Captain and his left and right hands but it wasn’t by their decision. They were held firmly in place in their seats, something controlling their bodies against their will. Doflamingo’s laughter filled the room as he and the rest of the family sat patiently for the five minutes to pass. “Sadly for you, Captain. You don’t get to play.”

Doflamingo had thought that you would have left immediately too to make sure no one else killed your mystery targets but instead for the five minutes you remained in your seat, completely relaxed. When the wait was over and those under his command started the hunt you finally rose with a soft sigh and left the room. Ignoring the hurried footsteps and panicked yells of the pirates who ran aimlessly through the palace, still unfamiliar with the confusing layout as they desperately tried to find their way to safety you made your way to the chosen room. 

During the feast, the maid that had been so apologetic for not being able to stop your targets secretly slipped a message to the men while they ate and drank under your instruction. She informed them subtly that when it was quiet and Doflamingo wasn't looking they were to make their way out of the hall and follow her where you would meet them later to finish what had been started. Fuelled on their own ego, fantasies, and emboldened by the alcohol in their systems they all saw no possible negative to this proposition. They didn't see you as a threat. With a small hum you opened the doors and stepped in to see the three men waiting, their expressions impatient and frustrated. “Took you long enough.”

“I told you I preferred to take my time with these things.” You said with a smile, lazily folding your arms behind your back. “Besides, Doffy’s not an easy man to sneak away from. Needed to wait until he was preoccupied with your Captain.” At the mention of the Warlord and their Captain, the three men seemed to calm their anger slightly. “So who’s first?”

“Just because you're fucking a Warlord doesn't mean you're in charge.” One snarled, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against and headed towards you. “Like we told you, this is what we want.” He reached for you only to stagger when you dodged him with ease. Sharply you hooked your foot around his and threw your arm around his neck, twisting sharply to snap his leg and send him hurtling to the floor, smashing his face against the pristine marble floor. His howls of pain filled the room and you wasted no time in getting up and closing the distance while the other two were surprised. 

The next pirate closest to you tried to pull his dagger on you only to be disarmed with your precise training. You used his strength and your momentum against him to twist his hand and force him to stab himself. While the wound was deep and immediately debilitating it wouldn’t kill him right away, you were going to let him die slowly. Twisting the blade, you ripped it from his chest and whirled to shoot the third pirate in the back with your own pistol as he tried to flee into one of the side rooms. He crumpled to the floor, unable to move. 

The coward wouldn't even try to stay and fight you? Pathetic. For all that talk they were all very disappointing. Slowly you stepped up to the pirate you’d shot and kicked him onto his back. The least he could do was look you in the eye when you killed him. Coldly pulled the trigger once more and put him out of his misery. The only sound that still filled the room was the pained, muffled breaths of the first pirate, the one who’d touched you while you had bathed. You returned to him and stood on his broken leg, smirking when he cried out in pain through a mouth filled with blood and broken teeth. Holding his friend’s dagger firmly you crouched down until you were poised over him and stabbed him, relishing how much of a release it was for your anger and disgust for him and his crew. Unable to hold back you stabbed him again and again as all the frustrations you’d been holding onto finally slipped away. 

With a low sigh you rose and took steadying breaths. Suddenly you felt a presence behind you and your spun, blade striking down on the person only to hear the confusing sound of steel clattering to the ground. Blinking you saw the hilt of the weapon still in your hand but the blade was gone, now by your feet as fate intervened once more to prevent you hurting Doflamingo who stood in front of you. Slowly you looked up at him to see him grinning at you. Even with his sunglasses on you could feel the heavy force of the stare aimed at you. There was a beat of silence before the tension snapped and inexplicably you both closed the distance. 

Doflamingo’s mouth claimed yours at the same time yours melded perfectly against his. You dropped the useless dagger and your bloodied hand fisted tightly into his shirt as his settled on your lower back, pulling the other closer at the same time. You’d never had a kiss this powerful before, one that made your mind hazy and craving more so instantly. It felt right but at the same time it was wrong. You couldn’t allow yourself to give in, to let it progress further. The same was also the case for Doflamingo. 

He'd seen you kill them so perfectly and viciously that he’d felt pride in his chest at seeing you exact your revenge against them that he couldn’t help but kiss you. But now that he was in that moment, he couldn’t let it deepen. He had trysts and lovers, someone to fill the space in his bed for as long as he still got some enjoyment and pleasure out of it. He refused to let this get deeper, to feel anything more than he did. He was still set on defying fate and knowing you couldn’t be manipulated and used the way he could with others, he refused to give you more power. He refused to set you any closer to being on equal footing with him. In unison you both parted and hands dropped. Together you both left the room, leaving from separate doors. You headed straight for your room to wash off the blood and Doflamingo was immediately called for by one of the subordinates to inform him all the pirates had been dealt with. For the rest of the night you and Doflamingo both hated how much you’d wished the kiss you could both still feel on your lips had continued.

———————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @anicega , @splicer13vex , @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111

[klapollo-week]

The prompts for Klapollo Week 2024 have been finalized!

Thanks so much to all who submitted prompt ideas and all who helped vote for their favorite prompts. Now, without any further ado, it’s time to reveal this year’s prompts!

Sunday, September 29, 2024: Pets

Klavier and Apollo both have pets that they take care of; a cat named Mikeko for Apollo, and a dog named Vongole for Klavier. How do these two creatures interact? How do they adapt to new, strange people visiting their owners suspiciously often? How do these furry friends influence their owners and their owners’ love lives? Are there possibly… other pets that could enter the picture?

Monday, September 30, 2024: Magic

Magic is an especially big part of Apollo’s life- whether he likes it or not, he’s surrounded by it. How does this affect his relationship with Klavier? Does Trucy rope them together to be her assistants at her performances? In another way, some people say that falling in love can be magical in its own right…

Tuesday, October 1, 2024: Music

On the other hand, music is a big part of Klavier’s life! How does his music career change after meeting Apollo? Does he release singles that serenade an undying love for a mysterious man with a notable forehead? Or does his music stay private, reserved for the ears of the one he loves?

Wednesday, October 2, 2024: Late nights

Klavier and Apollo can be major workaholics at times, staying up late to finish working on tough cases and going over notes before court the next morning. Do they ever spend these late nights together? Or instead of research sessions, are these late nights spent rather as lighthearted get-togethers where they can escape the pressure of finding the truth?

Thursday, October 3, 2024: Scars

Scars can be metaphorical as much as they can be physical. Are Klavier and Apollo’s scars physical? Are they found on arms or legs or chests? Or are they metaphors for the demons of the past, found only within the depths of their minds? How do they help each other heal?

Friday, October 4, 2024: Roleswap au

An oldie but a goodie, Klavier and Apollo have parallels in their stories and personalities, but also have staunch differences! How do things change when they swap roles with each other? Do they act the same as usual, or do they act different? How does this change their love?

Saturday, October 5, 2024: Poison

A weapon and a tool for the crafty and despicable, Klavier and Apollo know that poison is an all too common means of murder. How are Klavier and Apollo affected by poison? Could poison possibly represent anything for them? How does it relate to the ghosts of their pasts and the presence of their future?

Don’t forget to use the hashtag #KlapolloWeek2024 so your works can be archived! Make sure to familiarize yourself with our Archive Criteria and FAQ when participating. We’re excited to see what you all come up with for this year, and we’ll see you all soon!

[messylustt]

kissing drabble based on this writing prompt request

your fingers tightened around your mission report as you made your way into miguel’s office. as always he’s stood, busy swiping and tapping at the multiple screens, different lights reflecting onto his monotoned face.

“uh, miguel?” you call. your sweet tone has his ears perking up as if he’s some dog. like always a scowl sets on his face at his own reaction to you. “mission report.” you slightly hold up the file in your hand as he finally turns his head to look at you.

cold. that’s all you feel and that’s all you see in his expression. maybe if you looked close enough, dared to actually look him in the eyes you’d see something far from a considered ‘chilling’ word. he lets his body drop down in front of you, grabbing the report.

“did you catch him?” miguel asks, briefly flipping through the papers. “i think i’d be pretty ballsy coming in here if i didn’t” you lightly chuckle.

miguel glances up his expression not having shifted as you press your lips together, quieting yourself. “yes, he’s all locked up”

“good. lyla.” he calls, the bubbly ai appearing by his shoulder “add this to the reports”

she mockingly salutes, earning your lips to quirk up a fraction, before she disappears with your report. “any troubles?” miguel’s almost strict undertone, makes your almost smile fall.

“none that needs accounting for.” there had been a small incident where the anomaly had gotten a hold of your wrist watch. it’s now partially smashed, and in the hands of hobie. you didn’t think you had the best of luck when it came to miguel so you decided it best to let hobie try and fix it before alerting miguel of your mistake.

“hm.” miguel hums, his gaze darting. what you didn’t know was that miguel couldn’t help but let every detail of you sink in. every time he saw you his eyes traced the same path. and when his gaze trailed along your wrist he paused. “where’s your wrist watch?”

you look down at your bare wrist. “oh, i just took it off. got a bit…irritating.” miguel’s eyes narrow as you try not to visibly gulp. “so, uh, if that’s all…” you go to step back, but miguel’s hand reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, simultaneously pulling you back (even closer than before), as his hand brings your wrist up to his face.

you slightly stiffen at the contact, brows furrowing. miguel brushes a claw over your wrist earning your muscles to twitch. he takes note of this. and drawing back your suit he’s presented with a discoloured bruise, wrapped around your arm in a circle. “what’s this?”

“normal…anomaly catching…injuries.” you say, your tone attempting to sound convincing. miguel’s claw brushes back along your wrist, his gaze now narrowed.

“it’s where your wrist watch was.” miguel states.

“as i said, it was getting irritating.” you subtly try to pull your hand back, but miguel’s grip is strong and strangely persistent.

“you lost it.” miguel remarks.

you scoff. “no i didn’t lose it.”

then miguel clocks on. “you broke it.”

“alright well — i didn’t break it.” as if that would change much. miguel met your gaze with a slight raise to his brow, as you sigh. “i didn’t mean for him to get to it. i just got too…close. and then he was grabbing my wrist. broken wrist watch, bruised skin, so on.” you mutter. “but it’s handled.”

“handled?” he still hasn’t let your wrist go.

“yeah, it’s getting fixed. and it’ll be as good as new soon.” you remark standing a little straighter.

miguel’s gaze hasn’t shifted from your eyes, his focus a little too intense. “why were you so close?”

“sorry?”

“the anomaly. why’d you need to be that close?” miguel elaborates.

“oh, well…uh…we needed a distraction.” you mutter out, not meeting his gaze. “so, that the other spiders could get all this guys gadgets and stuff. so he’d be weaponless.”

“and?” miguel pushes.

“and…i seemed to be voted the best candidate.”

“to do what, exactly?” everything about miguel hasn’t wavered.

you slightly nibble on your lower lip, actually a fraction embarrassed by this. “just to, you know…flirt…a little bit.” you instantly wince as miguel’s grip on your wrist tightened.

“i’m sorry?” he remarks, coldly.

“as a distraction. it surprising worked…for a bit. before he clocked on when I leant away and — ”

“leant away?” for the first time you can actually catch a proper emotion in miguel’s tone. “how close were you, y/n?”

your tongue brushes along your teeth. “like…” you demonstrate by lifting your hand in front of your face, and slowly closing the distance.

as miguel watches just how close you had gotten, his jaw clenches. “so, you’re telling me that in order for you to catch this anomaly you brought him this close…” miguel provides his own demonstration, pulling you in by your wrist as you slightly stumble into him, your faces inches apart, making your breathing hitch. “is that right?”

you slowly nod. “we catch dangerous anomalies, not flirt with them.” he says.

“it was only so that we could catch him.” you say a little too quietly as your breath hits miguel’s face. “right.” he mutters, his tongue dragging along the roof of his mouth, clearly agitated.

“and what was your plan after the flirting? i mean if you got this close, i’m sure you would have had a plan.” miguel’s tone is dripping with mocking as he tries not to snarl out the words.

you assume that he’s pissed because it undermines what the spider society is made for. when in reality, miguel just doesn’t want a man to be close to you. “you aren’t stupid, y/n. usually this kinda distance…means something.”

you’ve noticed the change in your breathing, as you stare at miguel. if you leant the smallest fraction forward your lips would be touching his. “so, is that what you planned? to kiss him?”

you can’t help but feel flushed at his words, your embarrassment clear. “of course not.”

“you said you leant away.” he begins to lean forward, your lips parting a fraction as your mouth salivates. “is that right?”

you quickly nod. “he’s an anomaly. i wouldn’t have just…kissed him.”

“mhm.” but miguel isn’t stopping, his lips now slightly parted in front of yours. “just because he was an anomaly?”

your silence makes miguel’s grip shift to your back, forcing you to arch into him, as a small misstep of breath leaves your lips. you’re now extremely close. “no.” he answers for you. miguel doesn’t know how he’s gotten you this close, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to step back.

“you wouldn’t have kissed him because you don’t like him.” he speaks slowly, almost telling you that that’s how your answer should be. “you don’t like anyone right?” his claw has shifted from your wrist to a small strand of your hair. he’s now too far gone.

“what?” your eyes are fluttering as you stare at miguel, still inches away.

“i'll admit...you're peeking my interest....and that's not good…” he mutters out, half speaking to you half getting it off his chest.

you’re in shock, miguel’s lips now faintly brushing yours, mouth open. “not good at all…”

but before he can finally close the distance a loud bang resonates around the room, from what sounds to be the opening of a door. you immediately manage to shove miguel away, fixing yourself. you tried your best not to look flustered as peter emerges. “hey, miguel — oh, hey, y/n.” peter smiles, oblivious to your heaving chest and miguel’s deathly glare.

[ghostboneswrites2]

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Dividers from @sister-lucifer

obsession - series masterlist

A Mess - Series Masterlist

A Mess - Volume 2 - Series Masterlist

Doe Eyes Series (Daryl x Reader)

Part 1: Doe Eyes (chapter list) [TEASERS]

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Part 3: A New World (chapter list)

Head Canons

Daryl x Witch Reader

Early TWD Daryl vs Later Seasons Daryl

Challenges

Seductive Summer - (in voting) [entry masterlist]… [polls]

Halloween Horror - (ongoing)

[daddecember]

Welcome to DadDecember 2024!

Everyone who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome in! We cannot wait to see what you create.

Please make sure to read this post carefully, as many questions have been answered here already. We have also answered all the questions that were submitted through our anon voting form already. If you don’t find what you are looking for there, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here. The mod team will get back to you as soon as possible.

If you wish to give a comment to the mod team without a response, feel free to use our questions, comments, and concerns google form: https://forms.gle/fRcZq2TsV2pgoNs97

This year’s AO3 Collection →  https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DadDecember2024

Event Info & Rules

DadDecember is an annual prompt month featuring platonic father and child relationships. We have a collection of prompts for each day meant to inspire works to be created.

*Due to the nature of this event being, do not submit father/child incestual content. That is not the point of this event. This event is strictly platonic. Thank you for understanding.

There are 62 prompts this year with 10 alternative prompts. Each day has two prompts, one situational/trope prompt and one dialogue prompt. You do not need to use both. While we do encourage you to mix and match prompts with different days to fit your specific WIP, we do ask that you tag the prompt you used, not just the day.

This is a prompt month meant to inspire works, so please don’t take any of the prompts too seriously! If you want to get silly with it or really angsty, that’s up to you! How much of the prompt you use and how you use it is all up to you! If you think it fits the prompt, then it does. There is no gatekeeping in DadDecember.

It’s up to the creator how much they want to produce or what media form they want to create in! Anything and everything counts (and if you’re really unsure, you can always ask!). The idea of the event is to create, no matter in the manner you do so. 

As far as “how much do I need to do in order for it to count?” – Well, that’s up to you! All participants, regardless of how many works they put out, will be recognized for their efforts!

A google form will be sent out after December ends in which you will be able to say how many works you completed. Works do not need to be published in any way shape or form to count. Participants will be ranked by completion in a tumblr post after the form closes and a custom role will be available for completionists in our discord server.

Should you wish to upload some of your DadDec content to Tumblr, use these tags:

Required tags:

#daddecember 

#daddecember2024

#sfw or #nsfw

Optional Tags (but appreciated if used)

#DadDec No.1, #DadDec No.2, #DadDec No.3, ect.

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings and content warnings. Add “tw” or “cw” AFTER the trigger/content warning )

For the sfw/nsfw tag, please use your best judgment. A Mature or Explicit rating (for anything except gore) should be marked as nsfw.

Reblogging Policies:

Due to the nature of the blog and for the safety of all fellow participants, nsfw posts will not be reblogged. - These works are still very much welcome in the AO3 collection.

You MUST tag @daddecember if you wish for your work to be reblogged

If you notice your work has not been reblogged (+ you tagged us) and it has been 2+ days, please send us an ask! It is likely that tumblr ate the notification.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much as you would like! Whether you can get out one piece between now and the end of December or 45, we are here to encourage you all along the way!

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. Due to time constraints, we may not reblog posts outside of December (pinging @Mod Addri via discord will always get you reblogged, though, so you can always try that ;) ).

Q. Can I combine DadDecember with other creation challenges?

Yes, as long as the other challenges allow it as well. Please reference their rules.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only will count once for your total completion number (unless combined with a different unused prompt).

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes, you can post WIPs. Snippets or other forms of WIPs are completely fine and will still count for completion! As long as you started it, feel free to count it!

Q. Is collaborating allowed?

Absolutely, we even encourage it! Collaborations can be an amazing way to get full completion status (especially if you’re competitive) without as much work! It would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before December?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a little over a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. Do I have to use your required tags?

If you want your work reblogged, yes.

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Best of luck,

Mod Addri

The full written-out list of prompts is below the cut.

2024 Prompts List:

1. Lost in the woods | "Cover your eyes"

2. Sick day | "I didn't know where else to go"

3. Accidents happen | "Are we there yet?"

4. Father's day | "Wait, wait, he's your father?"

5. Stars | "You're just like I remember"

6. First steps | "I have never hated you"

7. Learning to drive | "I'm sorry"

8. Alternate Universe - Age reversal / Role-swap | "Can you tell me a story?"

9. Tears | "Follow my lead"

10. Pillow fight | "Are you okay?"

11. Forever | "Can we do this every year?"

12. First pet | "Don't you dare..."

13. Demon Lord and Hero | "You're not my real dad"

14. Platonic Soulmates | "Can I have a hug?"

15. Similarities | "Please don't go"

16. Appearances | "Leave me alone"

17. Bring your kid to work day | "Can we make cookies?"

18. Promises | "I'll make it up to you, I promise"

19. Hypothermia | "What's with the long face?"

20. Time travel | "It's too late"

21. Finding a way home | "Be home by midnight"

22. Found family | "What did I say about..."

23. Patching each other up | "Santa isn't real"

24. Not quite asleep | "You came back?"

25. Holidays | "I'm proud of you"

26. Homework | "This is your birthright."

27. Bring your parent to school day | "Can you help me with this?"

28. Loss | "Happy birthday!"

29. Body Swap | "You remembered?"

30. Wings / Grooming | "Get down here this instant"

31. A new year | "Thank you."

Alternative Prompts:

1. A kind lie / A harsh truth

2. Giving gifts

3. Home alone 

4. Snow day

5. Pillow fort

6. "Of all things"

7. Hidden

8. Another world - Universe Swap

9. Werewolves/Vampires

10. Family dinner

[hugsandchaos]

Danny Phantom Related Masterlist

•Ghost blobs!

•Dash is a human sacrifice

•Ectomelons

•Great Cub

•FrostDad (Coming Soon!)

DP x Linked Universe

•Short headcanon list

•Memes, anyone?

•More memes

•He jumped?!

•Uhh not sure what to call this

•Okay, this is probably the last string of memes

•I lied, here’s a few more

•It’s just one meme

•Another idea

•Cooking

•Incorrect quote that I just tossed out there (we appreciate you trying to help, Hyrule)

•Late night thoughts

•Studying and Manatees

•No caffeine?! Criminal!

•Introducing Vlad

•Another Incorrect Quote

•”Danny, get out of the closet!”

•Lord Of The Dark Birds

•A couple more incorrect quotes

•Soup Time

•LBM!

•Picking locks

•Who’s Dash?

•Dash? What are you doing here?

•Singing equals spells??

•Comfort in the chaos

•Wing bois rant

•More Little Baby Man

•How are they not banned??

•Dungeons

•Meme anyone?

•Summoned!

•That time Danny picked up Time

•Danny is the youngest sibling

•Everlasting Trio!

Oneshots

•”He’s in the walls...”

•Astrophilia

•April 3rd Special! :D

Story Chapters: Eudaemon (Now on Ao3 too! :D)

•The Beginning

•Proper Introductions

•Dawn Of The Second Day

•Magical Meal

•Day 3

•Where Do Stars Come From?

•Quick update

•Creepy Conclusions

•Ghost Boy, Where Art Thou?

•Alexa, Play Mission Impossible (Coming Soon!)

•Hungry For Answers (Coming soon!)

Ao3 Link!

•Sneak Peek! (Updated October 30th)

•Orbit!

Beautiful art by @nerdypear4 here, here, here, here, and here too!

•Quick vote

DP x Marvel Universe

•Loki’s cape

•”Hey, Ron.” “Hey, Billy.”

DC x DP Prompts

•Accidentally Blessed

•Phantom Forest

•A Ghost Boy and His Wolf

•Tired Haunt

•Early Hero Gets The Adoptee

•Family Reunion

•Loki’s cape

•More Wulf!

•Watchtower Ghost

DC x DP Headcanons

•Reasons to not trust the Justice League

•”Really? This guy?”

Seeing Double

Young Justice x Danny Phantom

Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Friendship is Haunting

Mlp x Danny Phantom AU

•What if?

Prologue

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

DP Unnamed AU

PenPals AU

Halfa Dash AU

•First post

•Quick talk about how Danny suffers in this AU

•How Dash became a Halfa

•Phantom’s soft spot

•LBM!

•Memes

DP x TF

•Ideas!

[deadcrowdonoteat-week]

☠ DBDA EVENT ☠

A Monty-centric event called Dead Crow: Do Not Eat

As some fannish people may be aware of, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat has been a time-honored tag, mostly of our beloved Whump.

☠ What is this event? ☠

Dead Crow: Do Not Eat (DCDNE) is a fan event which encourages any fan creators to put their blood, sweat, tears, heart and soul into fanworks all about putting Monty into the most intense, Whumpy, warning-worthy situations imaginable. All mediums are welcome!

We are starting with a weekend, each day will have 3 prompts central to Monty's story and Dead Dove: Do Not Eat themes. Then we will host an entire week! Fans will submit prompts and the moderators will release a prompt list after votes!

☠ What are our goals? ☠

We would like the tag Dead Crow: Do Not Eat to canonize on Ao3.

And also Whump the everloving hell out of Monty.

☠ When is it? ☠

The weekend will be hosted from the 4th of October to the 6th of October.

☠ How do I participate? ☠

Creating and tagging Monty fanworks! Be that fanfic, podfic, fanart, edits, playlists, or anything you can think of!

The tags we will follow are Dead Crow: Do Not Eat Weekend on Tumblr and just Dead Crow: Do Not Eat on Ao3. Feel free to post your creations to other sites, and please use the Save Dead Boy Detectives tag <3

☠ Rules/guidelines and prompt list to come soon! Stay tuned! ☠

[ghiralink-week]

Good timezone everyone :D I am Sora (she/her)- one of the new mod additions to the GhiraLink Week moderation team. //You can find me on AO3 (rahchan), tumblr (rahchan-writes-again) or on discord Sora#5056// As I am based in CET I am the one who is awake, while the others sleep hehe

If you have any questions regarding the NSFW stuff - you are at the right address - it's my main focus - but of course you can ask any other question too.

My main languages are english and german, so come forward in any of these questions :D Fun facts some of you do not know yet - I am writing fanfiction since 2004ish with a decade of a break but I am back in the game and love to read and write fanfiction.

I am looking forward to the GhiraLink Week 2023 and am hyped for what will going to happen and I am hyped to look at all the contributions.

[bad268]

Laugh (Harry Lewis X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Youtubers

Requested: Day 10 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!

Warnings: none.

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 476

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

Writing Inktober 2024 Materlist

~~(^Pinterest)

Make ‘em laugh was not something you were confident in, but that was part of the challenge. The video was Among Us IRl, so you knew you had to do it at some point since it was a task for crewmates. 

“I’m going to make ‘em laugh first. I just wanna get it over with,” You chuckled nervously as soon as everyone started splitting off down the halls, “Please don’t follow me.”

“I’ll stick with you,” Harry said as he followed you immediately. 

“I don’t want anyone following me, least of all you,” You teased as you bumped into his shoulder while you walked down the corridor. “You know I hate stages, and my jokes aren’t funny.”

 “Here, I’ll go first, and I’ll totally bomb it, so they’ll have to laugh at your joke because it’ll be better than mine!” Harry came up with the solution immediately as you reached the wings. Harry hugged you for some reassurance before taking to the stage. He tapped the microphone once he reached it, causing feedback to ring through the speakers before taking hold of the stand. “Two guys walk into a bar. The third one ducks.” No one in the audience made a sound. Harry through his hands in the air with a gasp, “I’ve lost my funny.”

Then, instead of walking back to the wings, he walked into the audience and sat in the front row. You peeked around the curtains to see where he had gone, but she just sat there expectedly as he held up two thumbs up. 

Begrudgingly, you walked onto the stage and glared at the microphone. You leaned into it and said, “What does a deaf gynecologist do?” You leaned back and paused for *comedic effect* before leaning back in, “Reads lips.” Not only did the five people in the audience laugh, but the loudest of the bunch was Harry. You walked off the stage and over to Harry. “Thanks for pretending to like my joke.”

“Where did you even come up with that?” He asked, still laughing as you walked through the halls toward the balancing game. You passed JJ and thought this was a perfect setup.

You killed Harry just as JJ walked by you, and you grabbed out your horn immediately. 

“I cannot believe JJ just killed Harry in front of me,” You said as soon as the meeting started. “After being the supportive boyfriend he is and laughing at my joke, you had to kill him!”

“What the fuck!? No, I didn’t!” JJ tried to defend, but thankfully the rest of the guys believed you and voted him out. 

After everyone had left the meeting room, Harry “came back to life,” grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest. He whispered in your ear, “Don’t let me die in vain.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[bbraeweek24]

Final Poll List

Congratulations everyone! We've finally put together the final list for BBRae Week 2024! The official line up is:

Sunday Oct. 20th: Camping

Monday Oct. 21st: Regency/Historical/Period Drama AU

Tuesday Oct. 22nd: “Please don’t ever do that again”

Wednesday Oct. 23rd: “You’re burning up”

Thursday Oct. 24th: “I don’t like the way he talks about her.”

Friday Oct. 25th: “I didn’t know where else to go”

Saturday Oct. 26th: Halloween

Thank you everyone again for voting. BBRae Week will officially start on October 20th and we will be doing our best to remind everyone until then. We will update the banner on this page with the dates and the prompts soon. Can't wait to see what you all can come up with; genuinely really looking forward to this BBRae Week!