#put them firmly back in control

[streussal]

#Daniel in the jaws of two monsters #Daniel scratching and scratching at his own memories #a monster lurking at the corners of it #something awful happened #and maybe he doesn’t want to know (via @ladyculebras )

What did Alice say when you finally asked her to marry you?

[mahgyu]

Choso smut + N$FW audio

• minors do not interact! 

──── Choso was feeling so strange about receiving a blowjob for the first time in his life.

And even though it was a new sensation for him, it was surprising. Choso had restless hands, unsure where to put them, his tongue came out of his mouth, wetting his dry thin lips. Choso's cock felt heavy on your tongue, spreading the drops of pre-cum that gathered above the slit, his skin was hot, essentially burning at your touch. He let out a short moan as he felt your wet silky tongue moving slightly under the head of his penis. You used your hands to anchor yourself, your nails leaving crescent moons on the surface of his thick muscular thighs as you gripped him.

On impulse, Choso entered your flexible mouth with more force, the sudden act causing you to gag, which immediately made Choso concerned when he noticed.

But you were quick to reassure him, smiling wickedly at him while still holding him in your mouth. You then moved your fingers down to his heavy balls, caressing them firmly, eliciting a sudden moan from Choso.

"So you're the type who enjoys choking games, Cho? What a dirty boy you're proving to be, huh?" You tease, smiling even wider when you notice him shrinking back shyly. You resume sucking him, this time faster and squeezing him harder.

"N-no, I didn't mean to do t-that, shit, please, slower" He tries to explain as he struggles not to reach his limit yet. The uncomfortable sensation from the beginning was barely present now as pleasure took over.

"Ah, baby, it's okay. You can fuck my throat if you want" Your voice, sounding so velvety while saying such promiscuous things, left Choso mesmerized.

He murmurs softly and you feel the blockage in your throat open up as Choso's cock reaches deeper, but this time slowly. Your mouth gradually closes around Choso's penis, getting tighter for him with each second as he settles shakily into you.

And Choso settled into your little mouth, moaning louder as he felt your throat around him, pushing himself into you until your nose bumped against his pelvis. His head tilted back and eyes tightly shut, his shoulders rising and falling erratically as he frantically tried to control his breathing.

"A-ah, that's it, so deep" Choso says hoarsely, now allowing himself to stroke your hair. You murmured in acknowledgment, running your nails along his thighs, sending shivers down his skin. Choso's breath caught when your throat vibrated around him, causing you to shift position as your pussy became uncomfortably wet, craving touch.

Choso's grip on your hair tightened, now using it to guide your head down rather than having to push into you. His brows furrowed, lips parting in a soft moan as he guided your mouth up and down along his shaft. Your tongue tracing the veins that slightly protruded on his skin, the salty taste of pre-cum coating your mouth entirely. Drool accumulated at the back of your throat and dribbled from the corners of your mouth each time Choso entered or withdrew. You sucked the saliva and pre-cum that flooded your mouth, causing him to feel your throat tighten around his cock every time you swallowed.

"I knew you liked this, you pervert " You tease again, amused and breathless, while Choso, in turn, has his lips curling into a small satisfied smile as he drifts further into his own pleasure.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Finally, Choso's version!! (I think this needs to be turned up a bit more to be heard better)

Which one do you suggest should be next?

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

jason todd smut

rough dom and size difference jason todd!

after a long day of work he would often convince you to have his fat cock shoved up your tight cunt, often saying “sweet thing, i’ve been at work for a long time, mind if you help me relax a little?” and how could you say no? he was often covered in oil and grease from the garage, his hair slightly messed up. he worked hard to spoil you like a princess, so how could you decline such a simple offer?

so he would often have you on your knees whilst he fucked your face, tears streaming down your cheeks whilst saliva dribbled down, making a hot mess on both for your face and hands that grubbed his fat cock. “love this pretty little face,” he grunted, making you gag slightly, with his heavy balls slapping slightly. “gonna fuck this mouth like it’s your cunt, that’s alright with you sweet thing?” he groaned, as he fisted your hair into a pony tail, forcing you to take more.

the size difference between you two made him fuck you like a toy, getting all of his tension and anger out whilst you babbled being absolutely dumbed out by his fat cock. you couldn’t do anything, he was in control, his thrusts hard and deep into your mouth, the girth of him stretched your mouth out to the point where you were convinced your jaw was going to lock. you were so small on your knees, so pretty with his fat cock shoved in your small mouth that could barely accomodate it.

“so pretty,” he groaned, his head tilting back, whilst his other hand guides you. you moaned against his cock, the sound vibrating up towards him. “you’re so good to me, gonna reward you after this alright?”

you nodded in response, though sucking him off was enough for you. something about it was so much more filthy and disgusting that got you off. “fuck,” he grunted, his thrusts harsher now, making your eyes widen slightly, “‘m close sweet thing,” you were currently nothing but a babbling mess, your hot mouth making the filthiest noises with occasional gags.

he groaned when he filled your mouth with the hot sticky liquid, jason had a habit of still fucking your mouth after, something about having the white hot liquid coming out and dribbling down your chin, mixing with your saliva got him off. “such a good little toy, aren’t ya?” he cooed.

“letting me use that sweet mouth of yours to get me off,” his hand went to your cheek caressing it softly, before sliding into your hair tugging your mouth away from his cock. the movement was so quick and unexpected you were left a coughing and spluttering mess, saliva and cum dripped down, a string of saliva connecting to his cock.

though he wasted no time, immediately shoving you into position, the smaller size of you allowed him to put you in any position he wanted, like his own personal sex toy. you were on your back whilst he was in between your legs. he rubbed his fat cock against your wet folds, “i missed you too sweet thing,” he whispered slightly breathless. before putting just the tip, enough for you to whine and wiggle for more, though he was so big, even the tip stretched you out.

jason grabbed your hips firmly, his large hands squeezed the small roundness there, his hands so large they could encircle them. “patient,” he grumbled his eyes narrowing. but you didn’t listen, because you wanted nothing more but to be fucked, rough and hard. and the only way to get that was to get on his nerves.

you wiggled again, attempting to push his hands off your hips. jason, clearly wasn’t a fan, his hands gripped your hips tighter before shoving his fat cock in you. he didn’t even let you adjust like usual, drilling into you like an animal, a beast.

“don’t you even think about disobeyin’ me again,” he grunted, thrusting in you harder and harder. you couldn’t do anything but let out pathetic whines and moans, your body wiggling to get away, the sensation was too much. though you couldn’t help yourself by prospering yourself slightly on your elbows, allowing you to see the bulge of him near your tummy, he stretched you out beyond belief. his hands moved from your hips to your knees, shoving them up against your chest, which forced you to take him deeper than before.

you couldn’t even moan properly, the air basically knocked out of your lungs in the new position, making you breathless. “so fucking tight,” he groaned loudly, “perfect little hole for me.” you were close, so close, but something inside you knew that he wouldn’t let you come just let.

“close jay,” you whined, your tone slightly pleading. he shook his head, “not yet, don’t even think about it,” he warned. though you didn’t listen, you couldn’t, you saw the mean smile he gave before squeezing your lower stomach, deliberately pushing you to your limit. as a result it left you a squirting mess, the hot sticky mess going on his abs whilst he continued to rut into you like an animal.

“you fucking slut, did you even hear what i said? or were you too fucking dumb like a toy huh?” spoke harshly, one of his hand cupping your chin whilst the other hand gripped your hands together above your head. you didn’t answer, still riding out your orgasm. “answer me,” he spat harshly, his thrusts even harder, making the bed leg screech against the wooden floorboard.

“sorry,” you cried, feeling another orgasm coming. he shook his head tauntingly, “you about to have a second one huh? how easy are you sweet thing?” he whispered as he kissed your neck. “bet i can make you come by fucking these pretty things,” one of his hand gripped your tit harshly. “gonna come again,” you mumbled, you were a sweaty mess, your hair sticking to your face slightly, a few strands near or in your mouth, whilst the cum and saliva from sucking him off had thickened, due to the time past.

he wiped the mess on your chin, before shoving two fingers in your mouth, “give me your second one sweet thing,” he whispered making suck onto his fingers.

in a matter of seconds your second orgasm came, though jason had no intention to stop, bending you to his will as he continued to drill deep into you.

[clockwayswrites]

Birds and Mice and Tea Parties 20

Masterpost

AN: B really was trying his best to protect Danny last time, he just was missing too much information. Poor Danny...

No reading over. We suffer and post at 2am.

-

It had been two weeks since the last rogue Wayne visit.

Danny hadn’t intended to keep track. There was no reason to. One visit from Cass and one from Tim did not a pattern make.

He tried to dismiss the observation. He had plenty to do; it wasn’t like he didn’t have friends. The bi-weekly trivia group would start meeting again soon. He also had a TTRGP session that did its best to meet around all that life threw at them. Tucker and him played online games when they could make schedules match and he and Sam talked when she was stateside. He even had regular lunches with coworkers!

Still, there had been something different about spending time with the family.

So no, Danny hadn’t meant to keep track, but he still knew it had been two weeks and a day. But of course he wouldn’t see the Waynes that often. Bruce was a very busy man and most of the children would have no reason to come to W.E. They had their own lives with work and school and being kids or young adults. The other visits had simply been flukes, as nice as the visits had been.

The subtle feeling of melancholy that had settled over him was ridiculous and he wasn’t having it. His mood was simply off because of the whole Ancient thing. The way it was affecting his health didn’t make feeling better any easier either.

Danny leaned against the wall of the elevator as he tried to catch his breath. He really shouldn’t be walking right then to get lunch, not with the way that he felt, but he hadn’t had anything at his place to make lunch with. He hadn’t had the energy to go shopping. He’d just go somewhere close instead of walking to anything on the other side of the park.

The natural reverb of the lobby assaulted Danny as he stepped out of the elevator.

He just had to get through the lobby, the street, the restaurant, back through the street, and through the lobby again. Then he could hide in his office and eat. Or he could hide in there and eat as long as Lucius didn’t find him. Maybe even Lucius would give him a break today though.

“Dr. Fenton…?”

Danny looked up from rubbing his neck.

It was Tim. Damian was at Tim’s side, flanking him like a little guard dog and scowling. Tim was frowning too. Danny immediately wanted to fix whatever was wrong.

“Look at that, a pair of Waynes. How are you two?”

“That is unimportant,” Damian said with a little sniff. “You are clearly unwell. I assume you are returning to your apartment to rest?”

“Oh, no, I’m just going to go grab lunch. I’m alright, really,” Danny said and put on the best smile he could muster.

Tim and Damian looked at each other in some sort of silence conversation. Danny started to edge away from them, thinking he could escape before they came to some sort of end. He really needed out of the lobby and its echoing sounds.

A startled shriek from the entry way cut off that plan.

Danny twisted to face the sound as he stepped in front of the kids.

Of course it was a rogue, what else would it be in Gotham? It was a rogue, but at least it was the Mad Hatter and his squad of likely mind controlled goons. He usually wasn’t prone to death and destruction like some of the others were. But still, Danny felt his metaphorical hackles rising. The kids were here.

The kids were here and sure to draw the Mad Hatter’s attention if he saw them. Danny stepped slowly backwards, herding the kids away from the scene. At least they weren’t far into the lobby.

“Back up to the stairwell,” Danny said lowly, trying to cast his voice behind him.

“Tch. We can—”

“The elevator, the back left one,” Tim said quietly but firmly over his brother’s protest. “I have a code to take it to a safe room in the basement.”

“If he kills the power,” Danny started.

“The elevators have emergency back up.”

“That’s not very good behavior for a tea party, is it?” the Matter Hatter shouted at someone.

Danny bit back a rising noise of anger in his throat. His fingers twitched to act. But he couldn’t. The best plan was to get the kids out of there away from any action.

“Yes I see, Damian,” Tim hissed. “We’re almost to the elevator.”

“Call it as soon as you can,” Danny said. Was there a reverb to his voice? It felt like there was a reverb to his voice. No, no, he couldn’t, he had to…

“That’s better! See? This is how you behave when someone invites you to a tea party! Now where is that little dormouse?” the Mad Hatter called. “I know I saw him come in here! With an even littler one too.”

He wanted Tim.

“Calling the elevator.”

“Another mouse? A rat? A cat?"

The Mad Hatter wanted Tim and Damian.

“Here mousy mouse mice… where are you?"

Danny would not let that happen.

“Oh there you are! Hiding back by the doors, of course he is!” The Mad Hatter said. The crowed parted in fear. His wide, manic eyes looked right past Danny and he grinned. “Get them. We have a tea party we’re late for.”

“Over my dead body,” Danny growled.

The Mad Hatter blinked at Danny like he just noticed him for the first time. His goons rushed past him and through the crowd. “Oh, who are you? Never mind, if death is what you want, we can make that happen.”

Danny couldn’t hold back the chortling laughter. “See, that’s where you have a problem you don’t even know you could have.”

“And what is that?”

“You couldn’t handle my dead body,” Danny said just as the first goon reached them.

Danny stepped forward. He ducked under the swing of the punch and used the momentum to spin the goon around. With a push of his ghostly power, he sent the attacking goon careening into the next one and they both went tumbling.

“Danny, it’s here!” Tim shouted.

Not turning his back to the attackers, Danny stepped backwards into the elevator. Tim slammed a button and the doors basically snapped closed, much faster than they should. Danny was left staring at the polished metal surface of the elevator. Luminous green stared back at him. Soft black feathers dotted his temples. His fingers ended in talons. And he could feel it.

He could feel the skin on his back started to split.

Wings.

[gendermuddledenby]

Detrans Me Notes Game Challenge

17/03/2025 - 17/03/2026

So. I decided to join in on the Notes Games I've been seeing around the place. 😳

I've been thinking I'd like to test expecting people to try more interesting ways of upping the note count though, hopefully turning the post itself into something fun for everyone else to be engaging with itself, not just the knowledge I'll be doing everything the hit Note Goals say. [Thereby upping the note count as more people engage with it...]

PLEASE READ EVERYTHING BELOW BEFORE ENTERING THE COMMENT SECTION

(I will be honest about this and stick to my promises here because the point of this game is me enjoying being ‘forced’ into accepting these consequences. I myself chose to put them on here. Nothing I've included has been coerced in any way. I'm a consenting adult who has decided to do this challenge specifically because I've found I really enjoy degradation and handing over control in certain ways. Forced Feminisation - especially through brainwashing - is apparently a big one, so feel free to go as hard as you like on anything listed here which gives you any level of control over how feminine things I get end up being or how much I'm being hypnotised into behavioural and mental modification. And obviously do try to get these notes up; I'm excited to have no choice but to do these things, even the big, riskier goals at the end. I know I firmly say 'this is just a kink' all the time, but engaging with this post specifically hoping it changes me is fine. I really want to test the line/experiment a little and see if my brain can resist that much conditioning and still feel masc-leaning nonbinary at the end, or if that identity is shaky and easily remoulded into a more feminine form. 😳 The risk of actually being pushed over the line is part of the kink here this time. The only exception is that I will NOT be stopping my Testosterone until I have the voice I want. I may play with people encouraging me to go off it, but going off it suddenly without consulting a doctor is dangerous and I'm not doing that for kink. And if my mental health starts to take a real life hit, I will be either pausing the game on my end or closing it entirely. My safety comes first.

Transfemmes please DO feel welcome to comment NSFW directly toward me on this post. [See my Pinned for why this is relevant. My personal limits are complex for trauma reasons, but I've decided to try opening up a little with this game as part of getting the fuck over it because most transfemmes are wonderful people and my fear is disproportionate and ridiculous. Help me relax and enjoy it again if you feel comfortable doing so. If you always follow boundaries, you are a safe person. It's as simple as that.]

Please only post sexual comments directed straight at me like the type I've suggested below if you are 25+. I've explained this in my Pinned. You can like and reblog if you're 18-24, and please do if you want to,  but please also stay out of the comments section itself unless you're directing your comments at someone else other than me, it's a not-direct-kink suggestion for the Notes Goals like ‘what if you do this thing for longer to make the stakes higher’ or something, or it's SFW in nature. Interactive goals I want only 25+ year olds to interact with will be marked as [25+ Only] at the beginning. Please feel free to interact with/follow any that don't say that.

ALL ages above 25 are welcome to directly engage me in kink. Yes, that includes dirty old people. I'm almost 30; I've pretty much reached the most sexually mature I'm going to get as far as I can tell. You're doing nothing wrong interacting with me sexually. I know what I'm doing and I doubt even more age can take that any further now, but feel free to talk to me in DMs first if you want to test how mature I am to feel sure I know what I'm doing with myself.)

MINORS DNI ENTIRELY OBVIOUSLY - LEAVE THIS POST ALONE AND GO BACK TO YOUR OWN SPACES

Tops/Doms/Breakers/Fixers please read and keep this post in mind for yourselves:

SPAMMING IS ALLOWED, HOWEVER, THIS GAME HAS RULES TO HOPEFULLY MAKE IT A LITTLE MORE ENGAGING:

1. NO Daddy/Mommykink, Ageplay, Inc*st, Scat/Piss/etc, Rimming mentions, or any type of Anus/Urinary Tract To Mouth, thank you. I reserve the right to those hard limit boundaries still. Ykinmkato of course. I'm not saying this to shame you. I just need it kept off my post. [If you manage to come up with something else I didn't know existed and it turns out to be a hard limit for me, I'll just add it on here/my Pinned limits list and your comment will be deleted but still counted with a ‘Good for one note’ comment from me in its place.]

2. No single numbered comments or the same comment over and over again or single word comments, or anything else you think of to make this too easy and quick or it won't be fun for anyone. Every sentence must be complete. You can send one sentence per comment if you want to be facetious, but they must be complete sentences; no breaking them up to double your note count. BE CREATIVE. Everyone does lazy spamming. I want to make something new with this. 🧐 [25+ only] If you can come up with multiple comments with each taunting me in different ways with how you'll go about making this get lots of notes quickly, your usual repertoire of kinky detrans ideas, etc - go for it. :D You can degrade and belittle and misgender and demoralise me to your heart's content in there, just focus on fun and let the note count be a secondary bonus. [You can approach it like posting about the same kinks and ideas in multiple different ways on your blog if that helps. If you can write 50 different posts about forcing a fakeboy to suck your cock, you can do the same in my notes to keep things fresh, interesting and exciting]. Don't you want to keep me in suspense, always nervously checking the notes to see if they've gone up again? Half the fun is making the game last and steadily making me do more and more... keyword 'steadily'....

3. Each comment must be original, at least in the sense that you as an individual haven't said it in the comments yet; other people having said it is fine and your version still counts.

4. Each comment will be counted as a note even if it's in a reply tree, so feel free to talk to each other as well, just stay relatively on topic even if you’re not talking about me specifically.

5. [25+ only] Surprise me. Amuse me. Delight me. DEGRADE ME. Talk about how these things will turn me into a girl no matter how much of a game I'm treating it or other things along those lines or whatever else you can think of to really drive home the forced feminisation theme of this game. Go about your day, think of something else, and come back into the comments to share it. Attack my psyche and question why I'm doing this. Am I doing it for fun as a sure-fire nonbinary with a kink or do I just secretly want permission to be a girl? Try to convince me of it. This is consensual kink. Go for your life. [If it accidentally crosses a boundary I forgot to lay or didn't clearly communicate then I'll just delete it and write a comment in its place saying ‘Good for one note’ since that was still a note and should count toward the game. This will only be done if the comment definitely doesn't violate already existing limits listed here.] DO feel free to talk about me like I'm not even there reading all of these. [Just remember boundaries because I will in fact be reading them.] DO misgender me in the third person. Speculate on what my deadreal name might be and why you think it suits me. Talk about what you want to do to me/how you would forcibly detransition me if you had more control than I've already given you here and compare notes with others [25+ only] etc. Just because I won't do something irl doesn't mean you can't taunt me with the idea of it, like making me go without my IUD to an orgy and get men to creampie me and don't take a plan B. Talk about what a coward I am for not going off T and how much better I'd feel if I just stopped taking it, etc. Whatever you like. Just have fun with it. :D This is about all of us enjoying degrading me through forcing feminisation onto me/talking about most things to do with that even if it's not a goal on here, and me having fun being ‘forced’ to do these things. I want to come into the comments both horrified by the note count and actively intrigued by what people are saying to me/about me to others. 🫣

Don't just spam random sentences/focus solely on increasing the note count. Enjoy yourselves. Get creative with it. The note count will go up just fine. :D

6. [25+ only] DO actively try to bait me into replying to you. Every Note counts, including my own. 😥😳

7. OH AND REMEMBER TO REBLOG FOR REACH. Also, there's a very special goal set for 500 notes involving reblogs, and if you get REBLOG note count up high enough I'll have to say a LOT of extremely feminising lines including calling myself my deadname. Just think, if you get me hundreds reblogs I'll be saying "My name is ...." so much I might accidentally deadname myself when someone asks my name...😰

NOTE GOALS:

Every 10 Notes - I listen to one round of Mistress Lillith’s Passive Feminisation track with a vibrator on my clit, edging myself while touching both of my nipples. [Countering with Passive Masculinisation is allowed. For now...]

Every 25 Notes = People get to pick their favourite/whichever tracks they like of detrans/feminisation/bimbofication hypnosis from anywhere and I have to listen to them all the way through, with people submitting them specifying if they want me to close my eyes for it or watch a spiral. [I'll pick and listen to one for each 25 notes. So if, for example, I get 10 sent to me in the next day or so after this reaches the first 25 notes, I'll be listening to them over the course of 250 notes. Up to you if you want to send those to the comments to be counted for further notes or send me an ask if you want to include a specific spiral you want me to watch while listening etc]

Every 50 Notes = I shave and keep my leg hair to feminine smoothness for another week.

75 Notes = I listen to a Mistress Lillith feminisation or bimbofication file every night before bed for a week. [Safety File allowed. This time…]

100 Notes - I listen to every single one of @ confusedcunny's detransition audio files [excepting Detrans December as I want to do that in December if I do it at all] in one night, edging the whole time. I'm not allowed to cum until the end. When I am close to cumming I have to say “My name is …. “ and then my deadname as I climax. The files will have already made me say it repeatedly too.

200 Notes - [25+ only] I will put a handful of lingerie pictures up as potential purchase options in a poll and people can vote on what I get. I'll send a picture of the lingerie as proof I got it when it arrives.

300 Notes - I have to wear feminine clothes all day. I'm allowed to avoid contact with anyone in my general life while I do this and just stay home, but I'm not allowed to take any of it off until bed time.

400 Notes - [25+ only] I have to look at a spiral with my vibrator on my clit and state any mantras you guys give me (be mindful of listed boundaries!!!!), allowing a minute for each mantra. One mantra per person. Maximum of 15 because my attention span can probably only last that long with too much repetition. [You can send me spiral gifs too if you put it in an ask. If you decide to post the mantra you want me to say in the comments, please put it in "" and maybe even say 'Mantra:' before it if you like. You absolutely can send me your mantra BEFORE I hit 400 notes and yes those count as notes.😳]

500 Notes - I edge myself with my vibrator and have to say “I am female. I am a girl. I am a woman. My name is…” and then my deadname, while looking at a spiral. I have to say this once for every reblog note I get. I'm not too worried though because so few people reblog nowadays… ���� UPDATE: THIS TASK IS COMPLETE. NO MORE REBLOG SPAMMING. You can make lots of lewd degrading dehumanising feminising etc comments from here on out to drive the note count at the same time as reminding me exactly what you think of me and putting that social pressure on me to change to match.😰😳

750 Notes - I play Mistress Lillith’s Passive Feminisation over my earphones, listening to it constantly in my ears on loop for an hour a day for a week regardless of what I'm doing, giving it plenty of chances to creep into my mind and make me more receptive to feminisation. [Countering with Passive Masculinisation is no longer allowed. 😥]

1,000 Notes - I'll get my ears pierced and pick the girliest piercing option to have to wear constantly for 6 weeks while the holes heal.

1,250 Notes - I learn how to do makeup and doll myself up. I can’t send any pictures of my face so I'll try sending a chin and lips shot only if anyone wants to see.

1,500 Notes - [25+ only] The first 5 people to notice I hit this mark and want to DM me to participate get to go on Temu and pick any feminine thing they want me to buy and use. Only rules are that we discuss my price range at the time (remembering that 4 others will be doing the same thing) and I get to ask for another choice if I know it won't fit me or will be a sensory issue etc. But I do have to let you pick something else and keep letting you until you find something that will work. I'm not allowed to reject it for any reason except for price, incompatible sizing options or likely sensory issues. [Edit: I'm thinking of saving $200 over the time it takes to get to this goal, and then splitting it up on a first come - 😜 - first serve basis. 1st person to DM gets $80, 2nd gets $60, 3rd gets $40, 4th gets $12, and the 5th gets $8. I suggest the last two look at jewelery as even the cheaper clothes tend to cost at least $13 from what I've seen. It's 100% up to you of course, that's just a suggestion in case you're wondering if you can even pick anything with that. Temu has some lovely jewelery options for often between $2-$10. Remember also I'll still be the one buying it. You're not paying or being given money; you just get to do all the fun parts. 😉]

1,750 Notes - I'll get a more feminine haircut like a pixie or something and I have to keep it like that for a minimum of 3 months. Who knows, maybe I'll like it and permanently keep it that way. 😳

2,000 Notes - I have to wear all feminine clothing and makeup while at home in private, no exceptions. Heels (unless I start experiencing health risks from them in my body), lingerie, skirt&blouse/dresses, jewellery and makeup. All day (other than when I have to interact with people but don't worry I'm still home every day for at least 8 hours of a nighttime even if I have a busy interactive day), every day, until the end of the year. If you want me dressing like this for something like 12hours a day for the next however many months there ends up being between time you get this post to 2,000 notes and the end of the year [17/03/2026], making me behave like the girliest girl I can possibly manage for over half my year, then you know what to do. 😥

3,000 Notes - I listen to Mistress Lillith’s Feminine Patterns and Heel Slave files - her most dangerously effective feminisation hypnosis files - all the way through every day for a week. [I've changed this goal because I found out Heel Slave is actually far more dangerous and also I get bored listening to files too frequently so I figure if I have to listen to all three once each every that not only keeps in the spirit of the original goal, but also makes it stronger due to Heel Slave being involved now] If you guys manage to get me to this goal by the end of May, I’m not allowed to listen to the Safety File either, exposing me to deep behavioural and mental changes which will last a while even once the conditioning and reinforcement have stopped, potentially turning me behaviourally and mentally into a girl for real until it wears off. 😰

4,000 Notes - I put together a few outfits and put them up in a poll, and people here can vote which one I wear. Then I'll wear that outfit out to a pub and sit there for an entire hour minimum while everyone there assumes I'm a girl and I'm not allowed to correct them about it if they talk about me with feminine markers. If you guys get me here by July and I can use my name non-legally while there, I’m only allowed to give my deadname.

5,000 Notes - I listen to every one of Mistress Lillith’s most dangerously effective feminisation hypnosis files - including Feminine Patterns - all the way through every day for 2 weeks, without listening to the Safety File… This has an extremely high and demonstrable risk of changing me into an actual girl behaviourally and mentally until it wears off. With this level of conditioning it will probably stick around for months. 😰

Every Note Over 5,000 - is one day I have to listen to one of MistressLillith's feminisation and/or bimbofication hypnosis files all the way through without listening to the Safety File. With this level of conditioning the behavioural and mental changes will stick around for ages. 😰

7,500: I have to wear a temporary womb tattoo constantly until it peels off on its own, then immediately put on a new one all the way through until the end of the Note Game Year. If I fuck people they get to see it right there on my skin and I'll have a difficult time explaining why I insist on being seen as masc-leaning nonbinary but have a very obvious womb tattoo right there making them question otherwise...😖😥😳 I am planning on hopefully dating again properly soon which means people will see me naked...🫣😥😳

10,000 Notes: I continue as above, but I have to start listening to Mistress Lillith's Resist Or Forget file before the day's main file. On top of this, for 3 days a week I get a little inebriated and wait until it fully hits before listening. I may still try to fight it [provided I even have any fight left in me by this point], but with the inebriation weakening my mental faculties - and after so much constant conditioning to submit and obey her voice, suggestions and commands already, let alone with a daily resistancebreaker file added to the mix - it's going to be soooo much harder, and soooo much easier and nicer to just relax and allow the hypnosis in like raindrops falling over a tropical ocean, eliminating any masculinity and driving the feminine transformation deep into the furthest recesses of my identity...

This is your chance to keep my brain constantly marinating in conditioned feminine behaviours and mentality for much of a year, and if I'm still fighting it by 10,000 notes, the inebriation and resistancebreaker file will whittle away at and eventually destroy it, leaving me wide open and completely helpless as all this conditioning and training finally gets its chance to break me completely and permanently take control. If anything is going to convert me back into and keep me a girl, it's this.

This Game ends a year from now. Let's see if I'm still masc-leaning non-binary by the end of it.

🧑😥😳😖😣😵😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫🥵🤤😊👧

See link below to where I'm attempting to keep track of what I owe and will be crossing things off as I do them. Polls will also be linked to through here:

And track the overall results of this detransition training here 😳😰:

ADVENTURERS BEWARE. YOU'RE IN FOR-....um....😳😖Well it's probably not all that scary honestly but I guess I'll let you be the judge. 😅😳

If I hit Stage 8 and 0 Masculinity HealthBar and beyond...😨my identity is probably lost forever...😰

🧑😥😳😖😣😵😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫🥵🤤😊👧

[nightingale-prompts]

How to Raise Your BatBoy

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Dick sighed into his cup of coffee. This is not what he wanted to see when he woke up in the morning. That and the giant bat wing covering his face this morning.

Danny was getting bigger. Not physically but his bat features are changing. The teen was getting better at changing shape. His ears are sharper ending in slight points, his fingers are more clawlike, and he has grown a thick ringed collar of white fur around his neck. Thankfully that's as far as his transformation can go right now. Danny has learned to pick and choose what traits he wants.

Danny has claimed Dick's gymnastic equipment as his. The aerial equipment is now used as roosts for Danny to hang off of and nap. But that hasn't stopped him from sleeping on top of Dick like an overgrown cat.

Bat wings expel a lot of heat as blood circulates through the thin skin which cools the blood in hot environments that they are native to. So to regulate their temperature they rest together to conserve heat. That's probably why Danny decided to grow the fur collar and sleep on top of Dick.

And why is Dick so frustrated? Because he's fighting for his goddamn life in this house. His cute aggression is barely contained. He wants to squish the kid's cheeks and ruffle his hair all the time.

Dick would be going over case files while Danny watches tv on the floor and Dick will feel the insatiable NEED to go bother him.

That damn fuzzy neck fur calls to him like a cat picking up a kitten.

Danny chirps! He fucking chirps! Like a baby bird!

Dick is trying so hard to be normal but if you had an adorable and clingy batboy you'd do the same.

Dick wants to tell the world about his batboy.

And he does. When he's Nightwing he will not shut up about how much he adores his sidekick. God forbid Robin is visiting, Dick will cry while taking hundreds of pictures of them together.

Damian doesn't like Batboy at all. At least that's what he says. He's just jealous that Batboy has bat wings. Damian warms up to him after they go out gliding together and get to study his wings.

It however goes downhill when they go on a misadventure and Batboy took a bite out of Scarecrow. Batboy had an immunity to fear toxins, instead, it overstimulated him. He ended up lounging at Scarecrow when he taunted Damian as the boy was paralyzed by the gas. When Damian was able to get back on his feet he found Batboy sobbing with his mouth covered in blood.

"Im sorry. I didn't. I didn't mean to-" His wings shielded him from sight.

Scarecrow was alive but the two sets of puncture wounds on his neck and the claw marks were not doing him any favors. The bite seemed to render him immobile at least for now. A symptom of a bat bite was paralysis.

Damian notified the others. Bruce and Dick got there first. Both adults were thankful they were okay but there was a disagreement.

"Nightwing you don't even know what the boy is. He could have killed Scarecrow. We don't know what he's capable of yet. He lost control." Batman stated firmly looking at the blood-stained teen that clung to Nightwing.

"He was protecting Damian. He didn't want to do that." Nightwing pulled Batboy behind him.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted to do. What will you do if he loses control and actually kills someone next time?" Bruce crossed his arms.

"All of us are capable of losing control and killing. I did it and you never came down on me like this. You are a hypocrite. You think he's a monster because he's not human." Nightwing was not going to let Batman point a finger at his son like this. He killed Joker once and he had don it out of rage and hate, not even to protect someone else.

"What I'm saying is that he isnt human. We don't don't know how he can be affected. We don't know his weaknesses. What if someone else figures out what fear toxin does to him and turns him into a weapon? Will his guilt be enough to stop him or will it destroy him? Do you want him to become like Man-Bat? Do you want to put your son in danger?" Batman didn't give in to Nightwing's taunt and stated his view firmly.

"We're leaving." Nightwing picked up the shrinking Batboy and made his escape but not before hugging Robin goodbye.

Nightwing had to move quickly. He could feel Danny getting smaller with every step.

This happened sometimes. Danny would sometimes retreat inwards when he was stressed. He changed to become as vulnerable as he felt.

When they got home Danny looked to be just 3 years old.

"Its okay baby bat. Not one is going to hurt you. I promised remember?" Dick held the chind aginst his chest.

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." Danny said between gasping breaths trying not to cry. His small wings wrapped around Dick's shoulders

"No, its not. You did the right thing no matter what Batman says. I'm proud of you."Dick said stroking Danny's black-streaked white locks.

(*Does a silly jig*)

[emmyrosee]

SAKUSA ANGST??????❤️

By the time Kiyoomi gets to home, the moon is halfway past the skyline and high in space, and the bright light trickles through the blinds, carving your disappointed features while Kiyoomi jumps at the sight of you, standing firmly in the living room.

"Jeez," he snickers, putting his keys on the counter. "You scared me, baby, what're you doing up-"

"I know, Kiyoomi."

His brows furrow in confusion, but behind his dark pools, you see shame. And his eyes always gave him away. “What? What’re you talking about?”

You blink lazily, “I saw Hinata. You weren’t with him. Told me you never even texted him.” You shake your head, “if you’re going to commit adultery, make sure you have all your bases covered.”

He stays silent for a moment, letting his eyes cast down and avoiding your judgmental, hurt gaze. A hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, pick at a hangnail, jam into his pockets, anything and everything to not meet your betrayed looks.

“How long?”

“Baby, I-“

“Do not pull that manipulative shit on me,” you say exhaustedly. “Don’t start with that nonsense. I want to know how long. And I want to know who.”

He finally meets your eyes, “I made a mistake-“

“No no. New couples make mistakes,” you snap, hoping that by yelling out your frustrations you won’t cry the hot tears swelling in your waterline. “We’ve been together three years, you don’t get to make those kinds of mistakes, you don’t get to tell me not to worry about one person, then cheat on me.”

When he slowly lowers his hands, guilt struck in his gaze, you feel bile rising up your throat.

“It’s… your PR manager. Isn’t it?” You chuckle. “Your “work babe”? The one you assured me was over and done with?”

“No no, you’ve got to listen to me-“

“After I specifically begged you to tell me it wasn’t true, after you assured me nothing funny was going down, after you told me you’d gone to their house to fire them-“

He looks away. Darts his eyes again. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, “oh my god… you… went there to be with them- YOU WENT THERE TO BE WITH THEM WHILE I WAS HOME? WAILING OVER YOU?!”

He says nothing to defend himself, and you scream and jump up and out of your seat, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him with it. He shields himself with his arms, ducking slightly from your swings, but he doesn’t say anything. Nothing to change your mind, sway your thinking or deny, deny, deny anything.

“You lied to me!” You sob, finally losing your composure. “You lied square to my face, for what! For THEM?!”

“Baby, listen-“

“DONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT, SAKUSA!” You shriek, throwing the pillow down and meeting his teary eyes with your enraged ones. “Don’t FUCKING start with me!”

He calls your name in an attempt to calm you down, extending his arms to create distance, “it was a mistake, I made mistakes.”

“And that’s a crock of shit.”

“I thought I was missing something, and I thought they could give it to me! Honest! It meant nothing, just meaningless dates and kisses to try and fill something inside that I needed, and-

“You are not helping yourself right now, Sakusa,” you pant.

“I wanted to leave them, I swear on my mother-“

“And you couldn’t manage to do that.”

“So now what?” He chokes. “So-So-So are we just done? Three years just gone?”

“Because of you.”

“I’m not going to let this happen,” he sobs, collapsing to his knees and wrapping his arms around your legs. “Please, don’t leave me. I’ll fire them. You can go with me.”

“Clearly firing them isn’t going to make a difference,” you snarl. “Since your tongues been down their throat and god knows what else.” You shake him off your legs and continue to look down at him in distain, “I’ll have the boys send for my things. I’m staying with Osamu. Do not contact me anymore.” You shake him off your legs, and he looks up at you like a kicked dog.

“No-“

“Yeah, you don’t get to say no, anymore,” you snap. “Since clearly you had a hard enough time doing it for them. I’m taking control of the situation now. You will never make a fool out of me again.”

“Please,” he begs, “I hated it, I hated all of it, I-“

“Stop lying, Kiyoomi,” you shake your head. “It’s not worth it. You’re not going to sway me.”

At that, Kiyoomi stops. His eyes blink a line of tears down, his hands rest in his lap, and his bottom lip trembles. You take a deep breath, “please let Osamu in when he comes for my belongings.”

He says nothing. He merely continues to stare up at you desperately, pleadingly, and you scoff before making your way down the hall to grab your packed bag. “Unreal,” you hiss. “You are unbelievable.”

“You don’t have to leave,” he chokes. “You can stay here, I’ll leave, I’ll go to Bokuto’s, he’ll-“

“He’ll let you in and stay with him after you have the nerve to cheat on me?” You scoff. “Bokuto is not an idiot. He’s not going to just ignore the shitty things you do because you’re his teammate.”

Kiyoomi knows that if you walk through that door, you’ll never come back. You know it’s tearing him up inside, you see it in his exhausted features and you know it in your soul.

Good.

[solarmorrigan]

cw: implied sexual content, mentions of anxiety/PTSD responses

-

The first time Eddie lifts him off his feet, Steve is pretty sure he has an out of body experience.

He’s never dated anyone as strong as he is, is the thing. It isn’t that he hadn’t dated girls who were strong—cheerleading takes more muscle than many people seem to think, and there had been a couple of girls from the soccer team besides that—but none of them had been strong enough to just casually lift Steve up.

But Eddie does it. He does it mid-makeout session, doesn’t even break the kiss as he gets his hands under Steve’s thighs and lifts him up to sit on the counter he’d been pinned against. And maybe it doesn’t break Eddie’s concentration, but it shatters Steve’s.

He stops kissing back long enough to make Eddie pull away and ask, “What’s wrong?”

Wrong? Steve’s heart is racing, his face is flushed, his lips are kiss-bruised, and he’s sitting on top of his kitchen counter because Eddie had put him there – just grabbed his legs and hoisted him up, left his hands resting on Steve’s thighs, and Steve can feel them burning through his jeans, which are suddenly quite a bit tighter.

Nothing is wrong.

“That was hot,” Steve blurts, and Eddie blinks at him.

“What? Me lifting you up?”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

A slow smirk spreads across Eddie’s face. “You like that?” he asks. “That I can throw you around a little?”

“Yeah,” Steve rasps, surprising even himself with the raw want in his voice. Given his history with people throwing him around, it shouldn’t be something he wants, but the more he thinks about it—the more he thinks about Eddie doing it—the more appealing it becomes.

“The information is noted and will be filed away for later consideration,” Eddie says, like the fucking nerd he is, and when he leans back in to kiss Steve, he digs his fingers into Steve’s thighs, holding him tight, like he might leave little bruises when he pulls away. (Steve hopes he does.)

Eddie doesn’t abuse the knowledge he’s been given, but he does put it to good use.

He pulls Steve across the couch and into his lap, holding him close with his arms looped around his waist, making Steve feel wanted and warm.

He manages to pick Steve up and spin him around, laughing as he does so, making Steve laugh, making him feel light and adored.

He carries Steve to the bedroom, his hands hooked firmly under Steve’s ass, Steve’s legs wrapped around his hips, arms around his shoulders, and tosses him onto the bed, making Steve feel very much like he wants Eddie to fuck him.

Then, reasonably assured that Steve is enjoying the treatment, Eddie ups his game. He pins Steve to the wall of the bedroom one evening, fisting a hand in his shirt and pushing him back, leaning heavily into his space, and Steve is for a moment viscerally reminded of another time and place. He thinks about the smell of lake water and dust, of the prick of sharp glass against his skin, of the frightened and desperate look in Eddie’s eyes.

But the memory is chased away by the feeling of Eddie’s lips on his. This is so much better – this is Eddie’s free hand running gently through Steve’s hair, this is the warm, familiar weight of Eddie’s body pressing into him, this is Eddie’s thigh shoved between Steve’s legs. This is good.

Eddie grips Steve’s hair close to his scalp and pulls. Steve moans and mindlessly grinds down.

It becomes a new and intimate normal, something they barely even have to think about, something that just feels right. Even when Steve starts out on top, the instigator, the one in control, it’s easy for Eddie to turn the tables.

As Steve straddles him on the bed now, both their shirts lost but the effort to rid themselves of their pants temporarily derailed, Steve is too eager in his pursuit of Eddie’s mouth to notice the coiling tension in the body below him.

He doesn’t notice until the tension springs, and Steve finds himself rolled onto his back with Eddie weighing him down. Quicker than Steve can keep up, Eddie is straddling his waist, taking his wrists and pulling his arms above his head, pinning them to the mattress.

Instinctively, Steve struggles against the hold, but he has no leverage, and Eddie’s grip remains firm. Steve can’t move – yet the expected wave of panic never comes.

He doesn’t feel trapped beneath Eddie, he feels secure, like Eddie is shielding him, keeping him safe. The hold on his wrists keeps him tethered to the Earth when the rest of him feels like floating away, and Steve tugs a little more so Eddie will grip him tighter. He hopes it leaves marks, wants to wear the bruises like bracelets in the shape of Eddie’s fingers.

Then Eddie pulls back, ends the kiss to ask, “This okay?”

He sounds serious, like he really wants to know, like he’ll let Steve go the moment he asks, which is precisely why Steve nods quickly and begs, “Please don’t stop.”

And Eddie grins and leans back in for another kiss, holding Steve tight.

[Prompt: Rolling over in bed, switching positions during a kiss]

[hy6erion]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 ఌ

𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮- 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚��𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢), 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝! / 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞! / 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫), 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐳 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝

Viktor knew he was going to hell for this.

It started small—innocent, almost. At least, that’s what he told himself at first. You were his sweet, doting roommate, the one who always made sure he ate something that wasn’t just coffee and stale bread. The one who baked cookies late at night, humming some soft tune while their warmth filled the apartment. The one who, despite his sharp tongue and reclusive nature, still treated him with an affection he didn’t deserve.

He’d been fine admiring from a distance, stealing glances whenever you curled up on the couch with a book or stretched sleepily in the kitchen, unaware of how his golden eyes dragged over every inch of you. He’d been fine with that. Until one evening, he found something that shattered his self-control entirely.

It was a mistake, really. He hadn’t meant to go into your laundry basket—he was just looking for the clean dish towels you always kept neatly folded, but then he saw it.

White lace, soft and delicate, with pink satin bows.

Your lingerie.

Viktor had frozen, fingers twitching at his side as he stared at the matching bra and panties nestled between your other clothes. It was innocent enough, really—everyone wore undergarments. But this? This was something different. This was intimate, private, something that had been pressed against your soft skin, had hugged the curves he’d been secretly obsessed with for months.

His cock throbbed in his pants so hard it made his vision blur.

He should’ve put it back. Should’ve shut the basket and left the room.

But instead, Viktor reached out with trembling hands, feeling like an animal as he brushed his fingers over the lace. It was so soft. Delicate. Feminine. His breath was shallow, sharp as he let his thumb trace the pink bows on the waistband of the panties.

God.

He groaned under his breath, his body igniting with something filthy and desperate. He imagined you wearing them—imagined how the lace would press against your cunt, how it would hug the swell of your hips. His hand tightened around the fabric before he could stop himself, and before he could even process the depravity of what he was doing, he was stuffing the lingerie into his coat pocket and limping hurriedly to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

His heart was pounding, his cock already straining against his slacks as he yanked the stolen fabric from his pocket, staring at it like a starving man. He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, his cane clattering to the floor as he leaned forward, clutching your panties in his hands like a relic.

The scent of your detergent, that soft floral fragrance you always smelled like, flooded his senses.

Viktor groaned, shoving the lace against his face, inhaling deep as his other hand fumbled desperately with his belt. He was already leaking, his tip smearing pre-cum against the inside of his pants as he freed himself, hissing when his fist wrapped around his cock.

“F-fuck,” he choked, hips twitching as he stroked himself, the stolen lingerie pressed firmly to his nose.

He was disgusting. A perverted, pathetic bastard who was jerking off to his own roommate’s panties like a deviant.

But he didn’t care.

The image of you burned behind his eyelids as he fisted his cock, squeezing tight at the base as he imagined peeling the lace down your thighs, imagined the way it would stick to the slick between your legs when he finally got his hands on you. He imagined pushing them aside, dragging his fingers through your folds, feeling how warm and wet you’d be—

His hips bucked, a desperate, strangled groan ripping from his throat as his cock twitched in his grip. The pressure built too fast, his body overwhelmed with how filthy this was, how fucking wrong it was, but he couldn’t stop. He was gasping, panting like a dog as he thrust up into his fist, chasing the heat curling in his stomach.

“Mmhh—fuck, fuck,” he gritted through clenched teeth, your name slipping from his lips in a desperate whimper.

The thought of you catching him like this—seeing him sprawled out on his bed, red-faced and desperate, his cock throbbing in his hand while he moaned into your panties—made his pleasure spike dangerously fast.

He came with a guttural moan, thick ropes of cum spilling over his fingers, dripping down onto his stomach as his body shuddered violently. His grip on the lace tightened, his cock twitching as he milked himself through the aftershocks, his mind a hazy mess of lust and obsession.

Viktor sagged against the bed, breathless and trembling.

But even as he stared at the soiled fabric in his hands, shame pooling heavy in his chest, he already knew—

This wouldn’t be the last time. Viktor should have stopped.

He should have shoved your lingerie back into your laundry basket and never touched it again. Should have avoided you the next day, put distance between you, done something—anything—to keep himself from spiraling further into this sick obsession.

But the problem was, he couldn’t.

Because the next time he saw you, you smiled at him.

Soft and sweet, like you always did, completely unaware of what he’d done the night before. You had flour dusting your cheek, your oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder as you pushed a plate of warm cookies toward him.

“Made your favorite,” you chirped. “You’ve been working too hard again, Vik.”

And fuck—fuck, you had no idea.

No idea that just hours ago, he had your panties shoved in his face while he came all over himself, moaning your name like a desperate little pervert. No idea that even now, as you stood there with your soft smile and your innocent eyes, he still had them tucked beneath his pillow, waiting for him to ruin them again.

He barely managed to thank you, his voice hoarse, tight. You just beamed, completely oblivious as you turned back to the kitchen, humming a tune under your breath while you washed dishes.

And Viktor just sat there, staring at you, burning the image into his mind.

That night, he fucked himself to the thought of you again. And again. And again.

—

It didn’t take long for things to spiral further.

Viktor became reckless.

At first, he only stole one pair. But then he found himself rifling through your laundry again, fingers shaking as he pocketed another—something soft and baby pink, satin this time, with tiny white ribbons. He stole a bra too, one that still had the faintest scent of your perfume clinging to the cups, and it made his cock throb so hard he nearly dropped to his knees right then and there.

He spent nights unraveling in his bed, fisting his cock with your lingerie pressed to his nose, moaning your name like a desperate, filthy thing. He dragged the lace over his shaft, letting the delicate fabric catch on the sensitive head, whimpering at the friction.

One night, he nearly lost himself completely.

He came so hard his vision blacked out for a moment, his cum spilling over the soft lace of your stolen panties, soaking them, ruining them. He should have felt ashamed, should have panicked at the evidence of his depravity.

But instead, he just… brought them to his lips, sucking the taste of himself from the fabric, groaning at the thought of you wearing them like this—sticky, stained, his.

He was fucked. Completely, irredeemably fucked.

And then you started to notice.

One morning, as you sorted through your laundry, you frowned.

“Huh,” you muttered, rifling through the pile. “Weird. I swear I had more underwear than this.”

Viktor froze.

You were standing right in front of him, completely oblivious to the way his breath had just hitched, his fingers clenching around the edge of his book.

“Maybe they got lost somewhere in my room,” you mused, tapping your chin before shrugging. “Oh well. Guess I’ll just buy more.”

And then, as if you hadn’t just unknowingly set his whole body on fire, you stretched, your sweater riding up to expose a sliver of your bare stomach.

Viktor swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Vik,” you whined, pouting at him. “Can you help me tomorrow? I need to reorganize my closet.”

That was the moment he knew he was going to die.

Because your closet. Your closet was where you kept everything.

Your dresses. Your stockings. Your lingerie.

Viktor barely managed to nod, his pulse thundering in his ears.

“Good!” You beamed, reaching out to ruffle his hair playfully before disappearing into your room, humming.

And Viktor sat there, trembling.

He needed to get a grip. He needed to stop.

But he already knew—when night fell, when the apartment was quiet and you were fast asleep—he would be between his sheets, your stolen panties in his fist, fucking himself into oblivion like a filthy, desperate man.

—

Viktor had never been good at resisting temptation.

The moment you had mentioned reorganizing your closet, he’d known he was fucked. Because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it—about all the things you kept tucked away behind those doors, soft lace and delicate fabrics that had graced your skin, kissed your curves.

So, when night fell and you were curled up in bed, unaware, Viktor found himself standing in front of your door.

He had no excuse this time. No justification.

He was doing something unforgivable.

But that didn’t stop him.

With a shaking hand, he turned the knob, the door creaking softly as it opened. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the city lights through the curtains. He could hear your soft, steady breathing from the bed.

As quietly as he could, he stepped inside.

His heart was hammering, his pulse a deafening roar in his ears as he made his way to the closet, careful, slow. His leg ached with every movement, but the sharp bite of pain barely registered past the haze of arousal clouding his mind.

He swallowed hard as he pulled open one of the drawers.

And there it was.

Stacks of neatly folded lingerie—silks, lace, pastels, all things soft and delicate. All things that belonged to you.

Viktor exhaled shakily, his fingers trembling as he reached for a pair.

White lace, dainty pink ribbons.

His cock twitched violently, pressing insistently against his trousers.

God, he was fucking depraved.

He brought the fabric to his face, inhaling deep, his lashes fluttering as your scent filled his lungs.

And then—

“Viktor?”

The voice was soft, thick with sleep.

His entire body seized.

Slowly, his head turned, terror gripping him as he met your sleepy, drowsy gaze. You were sitting up in bed, blinking at him, your hair mussed from sleep.

The panties were still clutched in his hand.

The silence stretched thick between you, suffocating.

Then— “…Are you stealing my underwear?”

Your voice was gentle. No anger. Just confusion.

Viktor’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His mind was blank, burning with shame, his hands shaking as he fumbled for words, an excuse, something.

But then— Your expression softened.

“Oh, Vik,” you sighed, rubbing at your eyes, voice still thick with sleep. “You could’ve just told me you were frustrated.”

Something inside him snapped.

His body moved before his mind could catch up, crossing the room in uneven, desperate strides. The panties fell from his grasp as his hands cupped your face, his fingers trembling against your soft skin.

“You—” His voice was hoarse, almost wrecked. “You don’t understand—”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed, still so unbearably sweet, so soft, and he couldn’t—he couldn’t hold back.

His lips crashed against yours, hot and needy, swallowing the soft gasp that escaped you. His fingers curled into your hair, tilting your head back as he devoured you, pouring every ounce of desperation, every filthy, pent-up fantasy into the kiss.

And you—oh, you melted against him so easily, your arms looping around his neck, a small, needy noise slipping from your throat as you kissed him back.

That was all it took.

Viktor groaned, pushing you back against the bed, his body caging yours beneath him as his hands roamed, desperate, hungry.

“You have no idea,” he breathed against your lips, his voice trembling. “No idea what you do to me—how long I’ve wanted—”

His hands found the hem of your sleep shirt, shoving it up, groaning when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. His fingers dragged over the swell of your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and you whimpered beneath him, arching into his touch.

“Viktor—”

“Shhh” he hushed, his mouth trailing down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “Let me have you. Let me show you how desperate you’ve made me.”

You shivered, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips traveled lower, lower, down your stomach.

When he reached the waistband of your panties, he groaned.

Pink. Satin. Tiny white bows.

Just like the pair he had ruined nights before.

Viktor was breaking. No—he was already broken.

He had lost control the second you looked up at him with those soft, innocent eyes, completely unaware of how deeply you’d wrecked him.

He needed you.

Not wanted. Needed.

His body was trembling as he pulled your soaked panties down, peeling the damp fabric from your skin, his breathing ragged, uneven. His fingers clenched tight around the delicate fabric, and fuck, it was wet—sticky with your slick, the scent of you hitting him so hard his cock twitched violently, already leaking inside his trousers.

“Fuck.” He groaned—low, wrecked, almost pained.

His fingers flexed as he spread your thighs apart, and then—

God.

He stared. Your cunt was so wet, glistening in the dim light, your slick already dripping down onto the sheets, so fucking messy—so needy—just for him.

“Shit—look at you,” he rasped, his voice shaking.

Your thighs trembled, your hands gripping the sheets. “Vik—”

He let out a harsh, uneven breath. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. He was drowning in you.

His hands clutched at your thighs, desperate, shaking. “You’re dripping,” he whispered, his eyes dark, wild. “All this… just for me?”

You let out a soft whimper, flustered, squirming beneath his gaze.

He lost it.

A sharp, choked noise left him as he lurched forward, his lips crashing against your inner thigh, biting, sucking, worshipping. He couldn’t stop. He needed to taste you—needed you all over his mouth, his fingers, his cock.

You gasped, back arching, hips twitching as he pressed his nose to your soaked folds, inhaling deep, his entire body shuddering.

“Fuck, I need—need to—” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore.

His hands shook as he slid his fingers through your slick folds, his breath catching as his skin glided over yours. You were so fucking wet it made him ache, made him shake with the need to be inside you.

“Vik—please,” you whimpered, your voice so sweet, so shy.

He growled.

“Please what?” His voice was rough, desperate, his fingers circling your entrance, teasing, barely pushing inside. “Tell me.”

You swallowed hard, hips twitching. “Please—touch me.”

His jaw clenched. His cock throbbed.

“Fuck.”

He shoved a finger inside you. You gasped sharply, your walls clenching down hard around him.

“Shit, you’re—” He whimpered—actually whimpered—as your tight, pulsing heat sucked his finger in, your slick coating him, so fucking warm, so perfect.

“You’re squeezing me already,” he choked out, his head falling forward, his forehead pressing against your thigh. “God, I—”

He pushed in deeper, his breathing ragged, his entire body shaking.

“Feels—so—fuck—so good,” he groaned.

You let out a soft, desperate noise, squirming. “Vik—”

His cock ached.

“More,” he gasped, “need more—”

He shoved a second finger inside you, stretching you open, and you sobbed, your body jerking, your thighs trembling.

His breath hitched. “Shit—shit, you feel so good—”

He was moving before he could even think, his fingers curling deep, rubbing against that spot— And you cried out.

Your walls clenched, your body jerking, slick gushing down his hand.

Viktor groaned, his entire body shaking.

“That’s it—” He moaned, his fingers moving faster, rubbing, pressing, forcing your body to break. “Again. Give me—fuck, give me more—”

A sharp gasp. A full-body tremor.

“Ohhh, fuck—!”

Your body seized, your thighs jerked, and then— You gushed.

Your release splashed against his fingers, soaking his hand, spilling down onto the sheets, so messy, so fucking perfect.

Viktor whined.

“God, you squirt?” His voice was wrecked, slurred, his fingers trembling. “Fucking—oh, fuck, look at you—”

Your face burned, your hands clenching in the sheets, your entire body trembling.

“I—” You gasped, a sob breaking in your throat. “I don’t—ah—!”

Another curl of his fingers, another deep press against that spot, and you gushed again, messy, dripping, soaking his wrist.

Viktor groaned, his cock leaking, precum pouring into his trousers, the fabric already damp from how fucking desperate he was.

“Again,” he rasped, “fuck, do it again—”

You sobbed, wrecked, your entire body trembling, and still, he didn’t stop—he wouldn’t let you stop.

Another press. Another stroke.

And then— You screamed. Your back arched, your hips jerked, your release dripping out of you, splashing onto his fingers, his wrist, the sheets beneath you.

“Fucking hell,” Viktor whined, barely able to breathe. “You’re so—so messy—”

You whimpered, shaking, utterly ruined, utterly his.

And Viktor—Viktor hadn’t even fucked you yet.

His golden eyes were dark, wild, starving, his soaked fingers trembling as he brought them to your lips.

“Taste yourself” he whispered, his voice wrecked, desperate.

Your lips parted, your tongue flicking out—

And Viktor snapped. Because he needed you now. And he wasn’t stopping until you were crying his name.

Every last shred of control had snapped the moment he saw you squirt, saw your body convulse under his touch, felt your release gush out, soaking his hand, the sheets, everything.

And the way you looked at him afterward—eyes dazed, lips parted, your trembling little body trying so hard to recover—

He had to ruin you.

He couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.

Not until you were his.

Not until he was buried so deep inside you, until you were sobbing with pleasure, until his cum was dripping out of you, marking you, claiming you.

“I—” His voice came out broken, ragged. His fingers curled tighter around your thighs, his whole body shaking. “I can’t—can’t wait anymore—”

Your breath hitched, your soft thighs twitching against his hands.

“Vik—”

He choked out a groan at the sound of his name on your lips, desperate and needy.

“Tell me you want it.” His forehead dropped to your thigh, his voice wrecked. “Tell me you want me inside you—please, I can’t—I need—”

Your fingers threaded into his hair, your nails lightly scratching at his scalp, and Viktor whined, bucking forward, rutting into the mattress like some desperate, depraved thing.

“I want you, Viktor.” Your voice was so sweet, so soft—too sweet for the filthy, depraved things he wanted to do to you. “Please—need you to fill me up—”

Fucking hell.

Viktor let out a shaky, broken noise, his hands fumbling frantically at his belt. He was so desperate, so fucking shaky, it took him three tries to undo the buckle before he was shoving his trousers down his thighs, gasping as his cock finally sprang free.

His tip was flushed angry red, already leaking, smeared with precum—so fucking sensitive from watching you fall apart under his fingers.

He barely had the sense to wrap a hand around himself, stroking once, spreading the slick down his length, before he was reaching for you, gripping your thighs, dragging you down the bed until you were under him, where you belonged.

“Viktor—”

Your voice was so soft, so sweet, and Viktor shuddered, dropping down, pressing his forehead to yours.

His cock was right there—so close, nudging up against your messy, soaked entrance, already dripping, already needing.

“I—I can’t—” Viktor’s voice was wrecked, desperate, his hips twitching, barely holding himself back. “I need to be inside you—need to feel you—please’—”

You reached up, cupped his face, kissed him—and that was it.

A broken, choked moan tore from his throat as he thrust forward, sliding into you in one deep stroke and fucking hell, you were tight.

“Shit—!” Viktor whimpered, his entire body shaking, his cock aching from the way your walls squeezed down around him, sucking him in, holding him so deep.

You sobbed, your nails digging into his back, your thighs trembling against his hips.

“Oh my god—” Your voice was so wrecked, so sweet, and Viktor couldn’t—he couldn’t.

“Too tight—” he gasped, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his fingers gripping at your waist so hard he’d leave bruises. “F-fuck, you’re—you’re squeezing me so much, I—”

Your walls fluttered around him, your body still adjusting, and Viktor whined, shaking, his hips already trying to move, already trying to fuck you.

“You feel so good,” he gasped against your neck, panting, shuddering. “I—oh, fuck, I’m going to—”

He had to move.

His hips drew back, his cock dragging against your walls—sticky, soaked—before he thrust back in, burying himself deep and you sobbed, your legs trembling, your fingers clutching at him.

“Viktor—!”

“Fuck—fuck—” His voice was so wrecked, shaking, desperate. “You’re perfect—so fucking perfect—”

He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t slow down.

Couldn’t do anything but fuck you, deep, desperate, shaking, his hips slamming against yours, his cock pounding into your wet, tight heat—

Your sweet little sobs only made it worse.

“You’re crying—” he gasped, watching as your lashes clumped together, fat tears spilling down your cheeks. “Are you crying for me? Is it too much?”

You shook your head frantically, your hands gripping his shoulders. “No—feels—so—so good—!”

Viktor moaned, his thrusts deepening, his cock bruising your cervix, every wet, filthy stroke dragging against that sweet spot inside you—

And then— Your walls fluttered.

Your body tensed.

“V-Vik—!”

Viktor felt it the second you broke.

Your walls clamped down, locking him inside, your sweet, soft cunt milking him, sucking him in and you screamed, body jerking, pleasure ripping through you as you came hard, convulsing around his cock, so fucking tight—

Viktor saw white.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck—!” He snarled, his vision blurring, his hips slamming forward, burying himself deep—

He came.

His body jerked, his cock pulsing, and then heat flooded you.

“Fuck—f-fuck—” Viktor whimpered, his hips twitching, pushing deeper, shoving himself inside you as his cum poured out, filling you so deep, so full—

And he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

He kept thrusting, slow, deep, pushing his cum deeper inside you, stuffing you full, ruining you— Until finally, finally, he collapsed.

Viktor shuddered, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath ragged, his body twitching with aftershocks.

His cock was still buried deep, plugging you up, keeping every last drop inside.

You were whimpering, soft, tired, wrecked.

Viktor groaned, pressing a sloppy, desperate kiss to your lips.

“Mine,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You’re mine.”

Your lashes fluttered, your soft, messy hands cupping his face.

“I’m yours, Viktor.”

And fuck, Viktor felt his cock twitch again, already hardening inside you.

Because he wasn’t done.

Not until he’d filled you again.

And again.

And again.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

༄.°🧅. BOXER MYDEI HEADCANONS

𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 : After a brutal, sweat-drenched match that left his knuckles sore and his opponent crumpled on the mat, Mydei stood victorious, the roar of the crowd fading into the pounding of your heart. His body, still tense with adrenaline, radiated heat as he pulled you into the dimly lit locker room, his gaze heavy with something far more intense than the fight he just won. The scent of sweat and leather clung to his skin as he pressed you against the cool metal lockers, hands rough yet deliberate, claiming you with the same relentless force that secured his victory in the ring.

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : nsfw/smut [MDNI], vaginal, cum cum…balls….big dick Mydei, p*ssy slapping, size kink, f*cking in the locker room, p*ssy eating, crying during s*x, after-care, holding orgasm, spanking, breeding kink & other stuff.

Boxer!Mydei Who is incredibly disciplined in the ring, his body a perfect blend of muscle and agility. Every punch, every movement, calculated with the precision of someone who’s been trained for years. Despite the brutality of his sport, he’s all focus, a determined look always in his eyes as he secures another victory.

Boxer!Mydei Who is quiet and reserved outside the ring, the kind of person who enjoys the calm after a storm. Once the fight is over, he seeks you out, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. His victories are never as sweet without you to share them with, and his touch is soft as he pulls you into his arms. “You’re so cute baby.” He mutters as he rests his chin your your head.

Boxer!Mydei Who isn’t shy about his needs once he’s alone with you. After winning a tough match, he’s not one for small talk—he’d rather show you how much he missed you during those hours spent fighting. His hands are rough, but when they’re on you, they’re steady and gentle, slowly undressing you as his eyes never leave yours.

Boxer!Mydei Who spreads your thighs while you both are in the locker room, eating you out. His tongue swirls around your clit, as you gasped softly. While he entered one of his fingers in your pussy.

Boxer!Mydei who forces you to hold your Orgasm and not allow you to cum, making tears streamed down your cheeks and beg for release.

Boxer!Mydei who finally lets you cum all over his fingers, giving a sharp slap on your pussy with your hand. Takes our fingers and slowly slides his cock in your entrance. His hips slapping against your ass, as your eyes rolls back. “Feels so good, doesn’t doll-face? Look at your face all fucked up just for me. And only for me.”

Boxer!Mydei Who loses all self-control when he's deep inside you, the heat of the fight still burning in his veins. His hands grip your hips possessively, holding you in place as he thrusts into you, his voice rough with a mix of love and pure, unfiltered desire. "You'd look so perfect carrying my child," he murmurs, pressing kisses along your jaw as he moves faster, deeper, desperate to fill you completelv.

Boxer!Mydei Who gets impossibly turned on at the thought of you swollen with his child, the idea making him snap-his movements growing more deliberate, more intense. "Gonna make sure you're mine in every way," he groans, pressing a hand against your lower stomach, as if he's already imagining the life he wants to put inside you.

Boxer!Mydei Who groans when he sees the way your body takes him so perfectly, his hands pressing firmly against your hips to keep you in place. His eyes darken as he leans down, his breath warm against your ear. "You want it too, don't you?" His voice is teasing, but there's a deeper need behind it. He watches your reaction closely, and the second you whimper his name, his control shatters-his pace becoming rougher, more deliberate, as he chases the thought of filling you up completely.

Boxer!Mydei Who, after the release, holds you close in the aftermath. He runs his fingers through your hair, whispering sweet words of praise in your ear. "I’ll always fight for you." Even if he’s a fighter in the ring, it’s you he’s fighting for, and when he pulls you in for a final kiss, it’s full of softness and devotion.

Boxer!Mydei Who whispers in your ear while still catching his breath, his voice husky from both the fight and what he just did to you. “You take care of me better than any championship ever could.” His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, his body still warm from the adrenaline, refusing to let you go even as exhaustion starts to settle in.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[nobodyknowsimalesbian777]

Watch - Sevika (Arcane)

NSFW tags - brief arguing, masturbation (s!), switch!sevika, switch!reader, cursing, pussy-eatting (s!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), scissoring (yay!!), 18+

authors note - gang im working on my first request im so excited 😈😈 everyone clap for anon rn pls & thank yewwwww

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"you're such a bitch!" you yelled as you slammed your bedroom door, sevika was trailing close behind

"what did i even do?!" she was clearly avoiding raising her voice with you, and you found it difficult to avoid rolling your eyes as you sat on the bed

"go fuck yourself, sevika!" you didn't recognize the malice in your voice, and you almost regret the words as you spoke them

almost.

until your burly, stubborn girlfriend was sinking to her knees in front of you, wrapping her big arm around your calves

you felt the words leave you as you let out an unimpressed huff, hoping she didn't see you press your legs together

"i'm sorry sweet girl.." her hand traveled slowly up your leg until it was resting on the plump of your ass

"let me show you how sorry i am" the soft rasp in her voice made you dizzy

in spite of this, you petulantly turned your head away from her, letting out another unsatisfied huff

sevika continued to drag her hand up and down your side, placing delicate kisses on your exposed thigh

you tried to control your shaking breaths, lacing your hands into her hair as you mumbled something inaudible

the woman at your feet cocked her head at you, encouraging you to speak up

"i want to watch" you murmured, an uncharacteristic look of confusion appearing on sevikas face as you spoke

"watch?" her short brown hair swayed to the side as she questioned you

your face flushed as you spoke again, "i want to watch you..touch yourself, vika" you trailed off, turning away in embarrassment

sevikas confused expression quickly turned to a smirk, "oh?" her confidence was heightened by what you saw as your pure humiliation

you couldn't seem to find words as her grey eyes scanned yours,

and you failed to ignore the growing wetness between your legs as she slowly brought her hand down to the bottom hem of her shirt

in one swift movement, she pulled her shirt over her head, exposing her unbelievably toned chest

you felt yourself let out a small gasp, and your embarrassment seemed to go out the door when she moved her hand down farther and worked on the button of her jeans

her fingers flexed beautifully as she started pulling them off, giving you a full view of her muscular thighs

finally, your eyes landed on the wet patch on her boxers. the sight alone was enough to make you shudder, and you had an unbearable urge to bury yourself in her

you sank down to the floor with sevika as she continued slowly pulling her boxers down, but just as you were leaning forward you were met with her hand on the center of your chest

"no," she said firmly, continuing to pull down her boxers once you backed up, "watch."

you sat on your hands, not being able to take your eyes away as sevika spread her pussy with her index and middle finger

she was putting on a show you couldn't resist, sliding her fingers down to play with her glistening clit

"vikaaa" you couldn't bother being embarrassed by your whining, simply focused on the woman playing with her pussy in front of you

sevikas hands traveled farther down, and you watched as she threw her head back with every stroke of her fingers

the heat between your legs was getting unbearable, and you wanted nothing more then to get lost in between your girls legs

her fingers kept drawing down, eventually pressing her middle finger into her leaking hole

your eyes flew down, watching her fingers dissappear into her cunt. the sight alone was ruining you, and you knew you wouldn't last with the sounds she was making

sevikas head flew back, rough groans and near whimpers leaving her pretty mouth

you took your opportunity and inched towards her, lowering yourself down and watching her fingers pump into her at a pace you could barely believe

after what felt like hours of watching her stuff herself full, sevikas hand moved back up to rub circles around her clit

she looked down at you and cocked her brow, before nodding at you as you moved in to plunge your tounge into her

as soon as your tounge filled her, she let out an intense moan, letting you take her pussy over

her big hand knot into your hair, pulling you closer while she pushed her cunt into your face

you felt completely at peace letting sevika use your face the way she was, covering the bottom half of your face in her slick

she completely let herself go, moaning and breathing heavily as her orgasm caught up to her

much to her amusal, you reached your hand under you, rubbing your own clit in search of release

her moans were laced with breathy chuckles as she watched you desperately try to get yourself off

sevikas hand trailed down your back, reaching for your pussy.

your moans echoed and mixed with sevikas, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from her face, slack with pleasure

"this pretty pussy all mine?" she murmured above you, so sexy without having to try

you nodded aggressively into her, pussy drunk and just wanting her to finish on your tounge

of course her timing was impeccable, as she gripped your hair, her moans raising in pitch. "gonna come on that pretty face" she moaned out, her body tensing with her grip

you pushed your tounge deep inside her, your eyebrows screwing together as you lapped up everything she gave you

she noticed you still working yourself back onto her fingers, chasing your own high while working her through her own

without a second thought, sevika pulled you up into her, eliciting a surprised yelp from you

she leaned back, putting her abs on full display while she lined your pussy up with hers, slowly lowering you down and easing your hips back and forth

your moans echoed through the room as you slid your dripping cunt against sevikas, her clearly overstimulated pussy pulling needy groans from her

with the way the band in your stomach was tightening, you knew it wouldn't be long before she pushed you over the edge

her big arm slithered around your waist, pulling you in and clashing her lips against yours while you continued your ministrations

sevikas hand traveled freely along your body, adjusting you to exactly where she wanted you to come

knowing she had that physical power over you was enough to snap the band in your belly, and your moans spilled out while you continued grinding against sevika

her eyes were glued on you as you came, her hand eventually coming up to cup your face and trace your lips

sevika, of course, rode you through your high, telling you how pretty you sounded slutting yourself out for her

after your eventful evening, sevika was sure to lay you down. her generosity was endless as she prepared you for the rest of the night, knowing she wasn't even close to done with you

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need to see sevika masturbating 4K what who said thattttt

[sematarygirls]

⠀    ⠀⠀♯┆marshgirl!reader x rafe ⏤ part i.ㅤ ۪ ୧

ᰋ. ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“ i asked my father if he believed in ghosts; he told me he would be one someday ,, ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎‎ ‎ ‎IN WHICH . . . rafe bets that he can befriend the weird girl who resides in the marsh.   ─── ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆🌾

THE CYPRUS BRANCHES swayed in the gentle breeze of the early morning, mist still clinging low to the murky water and roots of the trees. The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil and natural decomposition of material as well as the sickly sweet smell of crushed wildflowers under your feet.

You moved through the marsh like you were born from it— maybe you were—with quick, precise steps that avoided stray tree roots, sticks, rocks, and the occasional small animal. Your skirt swished at your ankles, wetted with fresh mud as you returned home from your morning scavenge of all the fascinating things nature had to offer.

Your lonely little cabin where you resided with your father was tucked away from the roads and civilization. He often told you that the world was dangerous, and it would eat a girl like you alive, so it was better to stay in the marsh where it was safe.

He'd never quite explained your way of life. You knew you were different, not like the other kids your age, but you didn't understand why, and whenever you dared ask, he would get agitated, asking you who put those thoughts into your head.

Maybe it was paranoia, a fear of what others were capable of, a fear of being out of control. Maybe it was grief, the loss of your mother so achingly deep that all he could do was run away and disappear.

Or maybe he was hiding something from you, from the world. Maybe the real reason for keeping you isolated had nothing to do with keeping you safe but rather, protecting whatever secrets he had buried in the marsh so long ago.

As you approached, you heard the familiar song of your handmade windchimes—made from animal bones, shards of glass, and rusty metals you had collected—and the piercing creaking of the old rocking chair that sat on the porch and moved with the wind. It was comforting. It was the sound of home.

"Daddy?" You called softly, pushing the creaky wooden door open and pausing to take your muddy boots off and set them down outside to keep from tracking mud inside before venturing into the house to retrieve this month's grocery list.

Once a month, on the last day of the month, you were permitted to go into town to stock up on groceries for the coming weeks. It had been a ritual like clockwork since you were thirteen. Though at that age you weren't technically allowed to be driving, your father insisted upon it anyway.

Padding further inside, your feet instinctively avoiding the spots in the floorboards that stuck up or had exposed nail heads, you found your father sitting in his worn, leather chair, knife in hand as he whittled something out of wood. "Back already?" He asked, glancing up at you. His gaze was always sharp and scrutinizing like he expected to catch you in a lie, and his voice was deep and rough, his vocal cords like rocks that had been weathered by a stream.

You nodded, the scent of burning wood from the fireplace mingling in the air with the smell of dried herbs and fresh flowers and infiltrating your senses. Your eyes followed his motions as he scraped the knife against the wood with slow, deliberate strokes, the sound of him humming in acknowledgement reaching your ears.

After a beat of silence, he sighed heavily, looking up at you with that piercing gaze as he set his knife down on the table, a little harsher than intended. "Remember the rules," he said firmly, his tone warning as he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Get what we need and come straight home. No lingering or talking to strangers," he reminded you, like he always did despite you having done this dozens of times.

"Yes, sir," you replied softly with an obedient nod, reaching for the paper in his outstretched hand. He held it firmly for a moment, not letting you take it as he searched your eyes, as if he could pull the truth from your bones. Clearly, he decided you were telling the truth about obeying his strict rules because he loosened his grip, allowing the paper to slip from his fingers.

You slipped the paper into your bag—the same one you'd used to collect your trinkets—and turned on your heels, heading back to the front door. You swiped your dad's keys from the table by the door before closing it behind you, paying no mind to the screeching that would have made anyone else wince.

Slipping on your boots and trudging down the crumbling wooden steps, you noticed a shift of atmosphere; you always did when you were leaving. The wind seemed to blow a little harder, whistling to catch your attention as you started your father's rusty old truck and put it in reverse to make your way toward the road. In response, a nearby crow cawed loudly, causing a few others to follow.

The marsh didn't like when you went into town.

Neither did you.

The drive was always unsettling and left a pit in your stomach as the trees grew few and farther between and more houses came into view, eventually giving way to buildings crowded together and pavement instead of greenery.

You pulled into the parking lot, the truck's engine rattling as you put the car into park. People stared before you even got out of the car; they always did.

Stepping out, you felt the weight of eyes upon you, hushed whispers following you as you walked with your head held high. You didn't mind them. You always figured they were just curious, as you were about them.

Across the street, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce were exiting a high-end clothing store when they caught sight of you. "Holy shit, country cryptic incoming," Topper smirked, nudging Rafe and nodding to your form retreating into the grocery store.

"Bro, I swear she only crawls out of the swamp, like, once a year," Kelce said, following Topper's motion. They kept walking down the street, farther and farther away, but their conversation stayed centered around you.

"What do you think she's buying? Eye of newt? Frog legs?" Topper snickered, finding himself incredibly funny.

"She's gonna hear you two talking shit and hex you," Rafe quipped, smirking as he pushed his sunglasses up his nose. "Yknow, make your dicks shrivel up in your sleep."

"I'm not sure Topper's can get any smaller," Kelce snorted.

Topper shoved Kelce with an indignant scoff. "Shut the fuck up, man, not cool."

Rafe grinned, his gaze flickering back to the doors you'd just disappeared through. It was rare to see you in town, so rare that it became a spectacle. People would wait for your inevitable return and tell tales, most of them bullshit, about what they'd allegedly seen you do or heard you say when they encountered you.

A thought occurred to him that had him smirking. "What do you say we make this a little more interesting?" He proposed, making Topper and Kelce quit their bickering over dick sizes and look over at him with pinched brows.

"What do you mean?" They asked, almost in unison, their curiosity undoubtedly piqued.

"I think we should talk to her, see what her deal is, yknow. I don't think anyone in this town has actually ever heard her say more than, what, three words?" Rafe grinned, like he had just said something revolutionary.

The two boys looked at each other before bursting out laughing. "There's no way she'll talk to us, let alone you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rafe scowled, his face growing hot. He didn't appreciate being challenged.

"It means you're the biggest asshole I know," Kelce rolled his eyes, always one to tell it like it was. He wasn't as much a lapdog as Topper was. "You're like the last person she'll want to talk to."

"Girls talk to me all the time," Rafe defended, gritting his teeth at the insult.

"Yeah," Topper snorted. "When they're trying to fuck you. Not when they're, yknow, feral." He bared his teeth and made a clawing motion for emphasis.

Rafe was determined to prove them wrong. Nothing made him more willing to do something than when someone told him he couldn't. "Fine then, let's make a bet."

Kelce raised a brow. "A bet?"

"What kind of bet?" Topper asked.

Rafe’s grin stretched wider, cocky and self-assured. “I bet I can get her to talk to me. Not just talk, but, like… really talk. Get her to like me, maybe even fall for me."

Kelce and Topper exchanged glances, their skepticism evident. "You think you can make her fall for you?" Topper scoffed. "Dude, she's probably never even talked to a guy before."

"Exactly," Rafe smirked, already having decided that this would be a piece of cake to pull off. All he had to do was turn up the Cameron charm, and she'd fall to her knees. "That just makes it easier."

Kelce snorted. "Or it makes it fucking impossible. She lives in a swamp, bro. She probably doesn't even know what flirting is."

"That's the fun part," Rafe shrugged with a cocky grin, adjusting his sunglasses as he glanced toward the grocery store doors again. "She won’t even see it coming."

"Alright," Kelce shrugged, deciding this would be the easiest money he ever made. "You're on. If you can't get her to fall for you in a month, you owe us big time." Topper nodded in agreement.

And just like that, the deal was made. Rafe had one month to woo you into going on a real date with him, out in town where he would be able to prove to Kelce and Topper that he was every bit the man he claimed to be and that no woman was resistant to his charm, all of this completely unbeknownst to you.

                         ୭ৎ

author's notes .ᐟ   this is definitely not my best work. i really like the beginning, but i am terrible at dialogue and being descriptive when people are talking. i hope you enjoyed it anyway !! this will be a series, but i will take misc requests for marshgirl!reader and rafe at any stage of their relationship <33 also i didn't edit this because i'm tired, so if you see any mistakes, please lmk !!

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 /

[bcksbarnes]

between a dream - chapter two

pairing: tws!bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky barnes has just found out his entire life has been a lie. that his life as the winter solider has been nothing but mind control. instead of running off after his fight with steve, he returns to the avengers tower where he trusts no one. everyone takes turn on watch, and this time it's yours.

word count: 5.1K cw: self-harm tendencies/talk

read the: previous chapter

a/n: thank you for all the love and support on part one of this fic, it means the absolute world to me! due to popular demand, i've decided to make this a three-part series so there will be one final chapter after this!

the hellscape that was bucky’s mind felt like absolute torture every second of every day since he was brought back to the tower and away from hydra’s control. it felt like someone had injected venom into his veins and now, as he tried to grasp onto reality, his body and mind writhed in pain with the thoughts of what the winter soldier had done, what he had done. how was supposed to live with himself?

he had hurt people, killed them even, and he was supposed to find a way to adjust back to a normal life? it was an impossible task brought on by a man he barely knew. 

he tried to remember, on the days that were really tough, what you had told him about steve. that he was just a man living in a time he wasn’t supposed to be in, with a friend he had thought he lost all those years ago. sometimes it helped, sometimes it made him even more angry, because bucky, too, was a man who was not supposed to be here, he was not supposed to have been made into a monster. yet, he was.

steve had caught bucky one night banging his head against the concrete wall of his new room. blood trickled down his face as his hands trembled at his sides. he just wanted it to stop. the voices. the screaming. the cries. the flashbacks. everything. all of it.

“jeez, buck.” steve said as he grabbed the man’s shoulders trying his best to hold him back, it took everything inside of bucky to stop the innate reaction of punching steve’s lights out and running far away, very far away. “stop, stop.” steve’s voice was shaky and he didn’t know what to do, the man who was normally put together was suddenly very frazzled. 

bucky just wanted it to end.

that’s how he ended up in the infirmary getting stitches in his head, his metal hand gripping the exam table firmly as the doctor threaded the needle, ready to close the now open gash in his forehead. the left side of his face was covered in blood, which had now made its way down to soak into his t-shirt.

the room was stark white, sterile, and easily reminded him of the many different locations that hydra used to torture him in. bucky was trying his best to keep himself calm under this situation but no one seemed to understand what he was going through. no one seemed to understand that there is no life after being created with the sole intention to destroy.

“i got here as soon as i could.” you say to steve, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway as you approach him from behind. he’s standing outside the exam room, looking into the window. his brow is furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. he’s worried. 

“what happened?” you ask.

steve had called you the second they brought him in, something about how you seemed to be the only person bucky had been asking for hours before the event took place.

“i don’t … i’m not entirely sure.” steve says softly, shaking his head. “one minute, he was going to bed and the next i heard screaming and this banging sound. by the time i walked in, he had already busted his head open. he looked … so … so …” he can’t find the right word so he trails off instead.

you wince at the thought, your eyes traveling over to the room where bucky sat, watching as the doctor’s worked on him, the top of his forehead bruised and stained with blood. silence washes over the two of you as you wait.

you hadn’t seen bucky since that night it was your turn to watch over him a few weeks prior, nat ended up pulling you into a mission that was way more important and time sensitive than anyone could have planned for. sam and steve kept their eyes on bucky instead, well, mostly steve who barely left his side. if you had been around, you would have reminded him to give bucky some space to breathe, but now after seeing bucky getting stitched up on the table, you weren’t too sure that was a good idea anymore, no one knew what he was capable of doing to himself or others. 

guilt passed through your body at the thought of what had happened. the night the two of you shared felt like there was a chance for some progress to be made, but it seemed like whatever hydra put bucky through was worse than anyone had originally thought, which meant that proceeding with caution was probably the best way to handle this situation.

“has he talked to anyone?” you mutter, finally breaking through the silence. your stance matches steve’s as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder, your arms crossed over your chest. “this can’t happen again, steve. he’s shutting down.”

“i know!” steve snaps, his hand running through his hair. you flinched slightly at his outburst, this obviously had been eating at him for a while. “i know,” he says again softer this time, a sigh leaving his lips a few moments later before he continues. “i don’t know what to do. i don’t know how to help him.”

you turn your head to the side and take in steve’s features. his jaw was set, the muscles in his neck taut as you could tell he was trying to think about what to do - how to fix this. you knew that whatever you were going to suggest was going to be shut down immediately, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try.

“let me handle him for the next few days.” you say. 

his head snaps to look over at you, his eyes narrow as he takes in your request. 

“i’m not saying you’re not capable of taking care of him, steve, but you have an emotional connection to someone you don’t know anymore. between that and what’s going on in his head i think it’s overwhelming him.” 

you try to be delicate with your delivery, noticing the way his emotions change with each of your words. he knows you’re right and his face shows it, but suddenly he can’t bring himself to let anyone watch over bucky. his best friend. what if something happened to him? what if something happened to you? steve wasn’t sure it was worth the risk.

“just a few days.” you remind him of your proposition. “we’ll move him to one of the trainee rooms so i can stay with him.” you knew steve would want bucky to have constant surveillance, hopefully this would be the best solution, and the one he would say yes to.

“no.” steve shakes his head as he responds, the wheels in his brain turning. “he could kill you in a second if you’re not careful. you’re not a super soldier, you’re great at what you do; but he’s not in his right frame of mind. it’s not happening.”

“please.” you say, reaching your hand out to rest on steve’s arm. he sighs again, your name slipping out as he does.

“this is worse than we thought. his brain is going through things that no one can understand right now. he could snap in a second, i’m not putting my best team member in there. that’s that.”

you expected rejection, but that didn’t mean you were going to accept it so easily.

“listen to me.” you take a step towards steve, your hand still on his arm. “you need someone who can objectively think about bucky. you’re too close to him, you’re going to freak him out even more. nat is off on another mission and sam deserves a break, he wants to go see his family.”

steve groans, rolling his head back as he takes a moment to consider your words. he doesn’t like them, though he knows that what you’re saying is obvious and true, there’s just a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him not to let you go through with this.

“i’ll train with him, see if he can get some of the aggression out. i’ll try and get him to work with the doctors, try to talk about some of this. come on, steve,” you basically plead with him, your hand falling back to your side. “give me a chance. give bucky a chance.”

hook, line and sinker.

steve can’t argue with you there, you said the magic words and it was all he needed to hear. he brings his hand up and pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed that you somehow managed to convince him.

“fine. i’m giving you a week. if nothing improves within a week then we’re going to figure something else out.” he drops his hand and takes a step closer to you, he towers over your figure. “and if he does anything, and i mean anything, out of line we’re pulling you out of there. do i make myself clear?”

you nod your head at him as you straighten your posture a bit, steve rogers was still, after all, your commanding officer.

“yes, sir.” 

“good.” 

the sound of the door opening causes both of your gazes to shift, bucky stepping out of the doorway. his eyes find yours immediately for the first time in weeks, it’s automatic, as if he had been searching for them all this time. he’s stitched up now, they cleaned out his wound and only a nasty bruise remained under the stitches, you knew they’d be healed up in no time due to the serum, but for now he had seen better days.

“hey,” steve says. you can see that he’s itching to take a step forward to check if his friend is okay but that he restrains himself. bucky’s eyes flicker over at steve for a moment, nodding in his direction, before he turns his attention back to you. steve analyzes bucky’s features while the other looks away as if to assess that he really is okay now, a moment later he turns back to look at you as well.

“can you give us a second?” steve asks.

you don’t need to know any more details so you just listen to his command, turning on your heels and make your way out of the infirmary wing, your boots echoing once again down the hallway as you exit. as you enter the elevator to head to the floor where your current dorm room is, you can’t get the image of bucky’s gaze on you out of your head. he seemed tired and stressed, no doubt from the events earlier in the night, but he also looked … surprised … relieved … a bit of both? you weren’t sure you knew.

there was no time to think about it. you had to pack a bag with your essentials for the week.

the trainee dorms were on the 72nd floor of the tower, they were small rooms equipped with two twin beds and just enough space for two people to barely live within the confines of the walls. you remember your early days there and though you didn’t miss them you knew this was exactly the place that bucky needed to be in order to start over. he needed a mentor, someone to watch over him, someone to teach him how to start from scratch and that someone could not be steve.

it didn’t take you long to get your items together, making your way out of your room and down the hall once again. the elevator dings, the doors sliding open to let you inside, you promptly push the button and feel the cart start to move down to the floor that you need.

it hadn’t dawned on you how close of quarters this would be for you and bucky, the rooms were usually small, trying to prepare recruits for their times on not so lavish missions. he hadn’t transitioned into regular life yet, so you wondered how he was going to feel rooming with you in such tight quarters.

the elevator dings once more, signalling your arrival to the correct floor as you make your way off and down the corridor. you couldn’t help this gut feeling that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, that nagging voice in the back of your mind sure had a way of making you regret this before it started. steve was right after all, if bucky snapped, he could kill you in an instant. but, that night you watched him all those weeks ago popped into your mind, and something tells you that bucky barnes was looking to hurt himself more than anyone else.

at the end of the hallway sat a room that was tucked away and barely used, tony stark made sure there were more rooms available than actual trainees when converting the place - you never knew when a hero might need to crash for the night.

the rooms were standard for all trainees and looked exactly the same as they did all those years ago and for a moment you were transformed back in time as you stood in the doorway. the twin beds are pushed up against adjacent walls, two dark wooden dressers each with three drawers were all you had to put your stuff in (they made trainees remember that most of the time you only needed the essentials) and besides a mirror on the wall … well that was it. bare bones.

you remember your very first days, being excited and nervous, eager to prove yourself but also worried that there would always be someone better. that was the drive that pushed you. you got the last laugh in the end, working so closely with steve rogers made you the best in your class by default. those times felt so close, but in reality that was your past and it was so far away. 

the sound of a throat clearing startles you, you turn to see bucky standing in the doorway, his bag in his hand. you’re pretty sure there’s nothing really in it, bucky didn’t have many possessions, they were probably clothes someone in hq got for him and some essentials for the day to day, but you were sure that he owned nothing. 

your eyes scan over him, there’s a frown on his face, though you’re pretty sure that was permanently there.

“sorry,” you mumble as you take a step into the room, placing your bag on one of the beds to claim it. you hear bucky shuffle in behind you, the door closing so it’s now the two of you, alone, for the first time in weeks.

you don’t know why you felt so guilty that you had to leave for that mission, it’s not like you made him a promise to come back. the image of the way he looked at you while he watched you eat his food to promise him it wasn’t poisoned flashes in your mind again. you realize it’s probably the first time in a long time that he actually could trust someone. now you remembered why you felt guilty.

“did steve explain why you’re here?” you decide to ask. you’re unpacking your bag, opening the drawers and folding your clothes into them. 

when you don’t hear a response you turn around and see that bucky is laying down in his bed, his back towards you as he faces the wall. he’s not laying under the covers and his arms are crossed over his chest. he’s shutting down once again, but you’d rather him be like this than banging his head against the walls.

you can’t see his face, but his eyes are open as he stares ahead of him. for some odd reason, maybe it was the events earlier in the night, or it was being in the presence of someone his brain deemed at one point as trustworthy, his thoughts seemed to have slowed down, not halted but slowed. he can hear you shuffling around the room unpacking your things. knowing he has to be stuck with you for a week brings up conflicting feelings, he had trusted you for a quick moment all those weeks ago, but you didn’t come back and to bucky’s brain right now that was as good as a traitor.

the emotions of the last weeks have fallen right on his shoulders, he’s already gone from one prison and now he feels like he’s back in another. he can’t see that ahead of him is a life of freedom. he doesn’t know that it’s an option for someone like him.

the bed next to him squeaks and he can tell you’re getting ready to sleep. it’s late, probably around midnight now, and steve had told him all about the plans you had for him in the morning, how the two of you would work on training, on channeling the negative thoughts and aggression. yeah, like that was possible.

you take one last look around the room before you shut the light off, climbing into your bed and laying on your side facing away from him. you could hear steve’s voice in your head telling you that was a stupid move, that if he wanted to attack you that you were opening the door for him. but something deep inside of you knew that if they wanted bucky to feel like a human again, everyone would need to stop treating him like a threat, like a weapon. 

though, you’re not entirely stupid, you weren’t going to fall asleep just yet, you still needed to keep your guard up.

“you left.”

the words shocked you to your core, you shifted in your bed so that you were laying on your back now, your face turning on the pillow in his direction. he was still turned away from you, even in the dark you could see his broad shoulders, the way his back muscles moved as he breathed. if you reached your arm out you were sure you’d be able to touch him. had the beds always been this close together when you were a trainee? or did the room suddenly feel a lot smaller with bucky there?

“i had a mission.”

there was a beat of silence as if he was assessing if that was true trying to gauge if you would lie to him at all.

“i came back.” your words slice right through the silence. 

“because i asked for you.”

yeah. he’s got you there.

“why?”

bucky shifts in his bed, the silence now filled with the sound of the comforter moving under the weight of his body. he lays on his back, his eyes staring at the ceiling and he’s acutely aware of your gaze on him.

“because he was getting on my nerves.” you assumed ‘he’ meant steve. “i told him i don’t remember anything. i still don’t.”

“i know,” you whisper back. “he’s trying.”

bucky clenches his jaw for a moment, taking a deep breath through his nostrils to try and center himself.

“i don’t care about some stupid friendship i had with this guy 70 years ago. he expects me to remember baseball games and childhood memories. all my brain is filled with is the screams of the people i -.”

his sentence abruptly ends, he can’t say the words, he can’t speak of the unthinkable acts that he had done, his throat is dry and his body is on fire again. the feeling of wanting to hurt himself is still there, but with you in the room he won’t act on it. his metal hand clenches the comforter under him, his hands trembling as he does so.

“it’s okay.” you try reassuring him, his body is rigid, like he’s biting back all the emotions in his brain.

neither one of you speaks after that and as the night goes on the silence returns, only the sounds of both of your steady breaths fill the room. your eyes try their best to adjust to the darkness, wanting to see his face to know when he fell asleep, but at some point you have to just trust that he is.

hours tick by and the two beds are occupied by both of your sleeping frames, both experiencing different dreams. you’re dreaming of all the work that needs to be done within the next few weeks. vivid images of training with bucky, hopefulness that he’s able to conquer these demons and move forward.

while bucky’s dreaming of all the people he’s killed. relentless. suffocating. run. wipe out. pull the trigger. destroy.

his eyes snap open before the dream version of himself can do harm, sitting up as he pants deeply, his flesh hand resting over his chest as he feels the way his heart beats wildly. for a moment he doesn’t know where he is and it rattles him. is he safe? is someone going to hurt him? is he going to kill? it takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the now dimly lit room.

he didn’t hear you get up as his ears are ringing and his vision is blurry, but once he finally comes to he sees you standing at the edge of his bed, a knife in your hand, worry etched over your features.

a pang of frustration runs through bucky’s core, he was still being treated like a threat. the rational part of his brain was trying to tell him that it was fair to assume he still could very much be one, but he knew deep down that more harm was the last thing he wanted to cause.

“you can put the knife down.” bucky says dryly, his hand snaking up to run through his long hair.

you didn’t mean for him to see it, you had woken up when he started screaming and wanted to be prepared for the worst, though maybe you should have had more faith in him; call it a momentary lapse of judgement.

there’s a small noise when you close the switchblade, throwing it on your bed before taking a closer step towards him to get a better look at his features. small beads of sweat are forming on his brow bone, his chest is still rapidly moving up and down as he scans your face.

“are you okay?” 

bucky’s breathing stops for a moment almost as if it hitches in his throat; you are the first and only person to ask him that question since he’s arrived at the tower. 

“yeah.” it’s a lie, but for a moment it feels like he is, even if the moment passes quickly.

“you’re shaking, bucky.” 

the morning sun was just starting to rise, the room now basking in an orange glow as you took another step forward. he brings his shaking hand up to his face, wiping his eye to try and draw attention away from the fact that the nightmare did in fact have more of an effect on him than he’d like to admit. maybe if he acted calm and collected you’d believe it.

you don’t realize you’ve reached out to him until your hand is already on his shoulder, you can feel him tense under your touch for a brief moment before he relaxes. a wildfire runs through your fingertips and through his body, the warmth of your touch radiating off the two of you. time seems to slow as you catch his gaze in the dimly lit room, something shifts between the both of you.

his hands are shaking still, but you’re unaware that it’s for a totally different reason. how was bucky supposed to know that kindness like this existed in the world? that scared him more than he cared to admit.

he clears his throat and you’re quick to retract your hand, bucky holds back a sigh as the warmth of you is quickly replaced with something much colder. you want to mumble an apology but the words don’t seem to leave your lips, instead you glance down at your hand unable to suddenly meet his eyes.

“we should get ready.”

it was a long night filled with the worst rest either you or bucky had gotten in a while, but you figured it’d be better to utilize the training room while no one was around. you excuse yourself from the dorm with a change of clothes, your eyes locked on the floor as you make your way to the bathroom down the hall.

back in the room, bucky is staring at the door that you had just left out of. he can’t understand why his body relaxes around you, why his mind is suddenly at ease or why it feels like he’s always searching for your gaze.

you had done something to him that night all those weeks ago, something he wasn’t sure you could ever undo. he was free from a life of torture and in came someone so willing to help him, willing to show him that there was no one here to hurt him - you just failed to miss that he would want to hurt himself.

a sigh escapes his lips as he pushes himself off the bed, making his way over to the only mirror in the room and assessing his injury from the night before. it had healed a bit in the hours since, lucky that the serum he had taken had made these things not last as long as they should, but it was still pretty brutal. he didn’t even remember snapping, one minute he was asleep, the next he was banging his head … it was like his subconscious wanted it, or wanted to get revenge for the things he’d done.

but, then he thinks of what had happened just a few minutes ago, about the nightmare and how he woke up - dazed - but not a threat to anyone or himself. there’s a connection to your proximity and he knows it, he just is refusing to admit it.

you walk through the door to the dorm a few minutes later catching a glimpse of bucky pulling his shirt down, able to see his back muscles, and more importantly, the edge of the scar of where his metal arm met his flesh. 

“hey.” you say, shaking your head as you want to get the image out of your brain. “are you ready?”

bucky doesn’t say anything as he moves to face you, the look in his eye was all you needed to see before you nodded towards the door. you walk in front of bucky as you guide him through the halls of the tower, he isn't far behind you and the sound of your footsteps falling at the same time echoed throughout the hallways. you could feel his eyes watching your every step and you struggled to not think about it.

it’s once you’re in the training room and the lights are turned on that things start to feel real. you would at the very least need to spar with bucky, and at most need to try and control his emotions. steve’s stark reminder that you’re not a super soldier rings through your ears, you push down in favor of hoping that he’s not right.

“alright,” you clap your hands together as you walk out into the middle of the mat, facing him. “we’re going to do some light sparring first, see how your brain reacts to thinking it’s in danger even if it’s not.” 

bucky’s arms were crossed over his chest, the silver metal shining brightly from the fluorescent lights above; it makes him look even more intimidating than you knew he already was. 

“i could kill you.” he says bluntly.

“i can handle it.”

his eyebrow quirks a bit at your response, it’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since he’s been here, you’ll take it. you wave him forward as you get into position, your hips are wide set as your arms and fists stay close to your chest, bucky copying your stance as the two of you circle around the mat for a moment. a game of cat and mouse. 

it takes only a moment for the two of you to lock up, but it’s incredibly obvious how strong he is already. neither of you notice the electricity that’s running through your veins when your skin touches, mostly concerned with trying to knock the other one off their feet. bucky pushes you back causing you to stumble for a moment, you quickly regain your balance and bring your foot up to kick him; you know that it should connect with his face, it always does, but he catches your foot with ease spinning you around as he grabs your arm and twists it behind your back all in one swift motion. you hit the floor before you know it, an ‘oof’ leaves your lips as you feel the impact of your body being knocked down. bucky’s knee is on your back as he presses into your spine, the force so strong it constricts your airflow.

you sputter as you try to wrangle your way out of his hold, your head turning to the side so your cheek was pressed down against the vibrant blue mat. the grip on your arm is sending pain coursing through you, a screech leaving your lips as you try and turn back to look at him.

the second your gaze connects with bucky's, there's a brief moment when you see it, when you see him: the winter soldier. feral, unrelenting, looking to kill, his brain was telling him to strike while you were down. it’s almost as if it’s gone in a blink of an eye because the very next moment the look in his eyes it’s one of concern, understanding and horror of what he is doing to you.

it was as if the second the two of you locked up in each other's arms that his mind played these flashbacks, he felt the pain of when they would wipe his memory, he felt the fear running through his bones that everyone was out to get him; and in that moment you were no exception. bucky watches you for a moment, his metal hand on your arm shaking as he lets out a growl of frustration at what he had just done, he didn’t think about it, it was innate because he was a cold blooded assassin ready to strike at any moment whatsoever. 

you feel his grip on you loosen, his knee moves off your back, the pressure relieving you of the sharp pain you were in. suddenly you’re gasping to breathe, your fist punching your chest as you try to get air into your lungs. 

“i told you,” he says, wearing a frown on his face. “i could kill you.”

shit. this was going to be harder than you thought.

[miumura]

SORRY, I NEVER MEANT TO! ♡ 보이넥스트도어

( 𝓢 ) ﹕ when and how they get caught crushing on you

──── 0t6!boynextdoor x crush ! gn ! reader ╱ ⌕ fluff ∿ w. teasing wc. 2.7K+ ( 2791 ) ｡ ｡ thank you anon for requesting !! i kind of added onto your idea, so i hope you don’t mind and i hope i did your idea justice ♡ !! also, thank you alya for the song choice 😊

❛❛ ���� ❞ 𝗦𝗢𝗣𝗛 > 𓂃 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗙 ⋮ 🪽

MYUNG JAEHYUN

HOW IT STARTED: jaehyun would naturally have the fear of getting caught crushing on someone—who wouldn’t? the thought alone made him hyper aware of his own actions, worried that his eyes might linger on you for too long or that his words might carry a meaning he hadn’t intended to slip out. but, at least for now, it wasn’t something he had to lose sleep over. with the way jaehyun openly expressed his affection toward others, it was almost second nature—practically a habit ingrained into who he was. so, even when he found himself cooing at you a little too long, no one ever questioned it. he had always been seen as someone outwardly expressive, never one to hold back his emotions, so there was truly nothing for him to hide behind. the only way he could ever get caught was if he slipped up himself—which was exactly what happened. it had started as one of those rants he usually kept to himself, the ones where he could go on endlessly about the little things you did, the things that made you you. but this time, he wasn’t talking to himself–this time, riwoo had heard everything.

HOW IT ENDED: once riwoo “accidentally” let it slip, jaehyun’s first instinct was to play it off—because of course whatever he said wasn’t meant like that. it was a misunderstanding. a slip-up. nothing more. but—just like anyone else would—he isn’t able to escape the teasing the other members give him. his efforts of “damage control” will only go down the drain the moment the others start acting like they knew you better than he did. a simple “what do you even know more about y/n than me?” was all it took. jaehyun would automatically get defensive and start racking up all the information he had stored in his brain—your favorite music artists, the specific habits you’d do when it comes to specific things, and even being able to reenact the exact way you act when you’re put in certain situations. to make matters even worse (or funnier—depends on what member you ask), he would be doing all of this while his arm was firmly linked with yours, as if your presence would strengthen his claims. so really, the others don’t even have to try—jaehyun would do the absolute most to prove he knew you best. with this kind of teasing, this gets all the interactions everyone (jaehyun and you included) could possibly want out of this.

PARK SUNGHO

HOW IT STARTED: sungho would never try to make it obvious if he had a crush. he’s the kind of guy that would keep this kind of secret to the very end, ensuring that nobody could know (especially if he was going to end up backing out from confessing). he refuses to get his hopes up, especially with the absolute menaces (lovingly) he calls his friends. he knows that deep down once the members find out, they would instantly become the worst (or best, depending on the perspective) hypemen imaginable. so, he is definitely careful when it comes to making sure he stays composed. he never stammers, never turns red, never gives them any reason to suspect a thing—sungho knows what he needs to do to make sure that doesn’t happen. but for all his careful planning, there’s one way to break at (or all) his cool—you. all it takes is you grabbing his arm to get his attention or throwing an unexpected compliment his way, especially in front of others. for that not to be done in private, his so-called composure instantly fades. with nothing but an awkward chuckle, stiffened posture, and eyes darted anywhere but at you, that’s how park sungho gets caught by everyone—easily.

HOW IT ENDED: sungho is definitely prime teasing material—the kind of guy who reacts just a little too easily, making it impossible for the others to resist messing with him. they wouldn’t necessarily try to make him jealous, but flustering him? oh, absolutely. It’s almost like a game to them—seeing how quickly they can turn him into a blushing mess, and really, it never takes long. the second he does something even remotely considerate for you—whether it’s offering his jacket, checking if you’ve eaten, or holding the door open—he’s instantly bombarded with knowing looks and exaggerated “oohs.” so, if anything, sungho is doing anything to make sure they don’t say anything around you that could have a double meaning for his own sake. he tries so hard to stand his ground, pulling out the classic “it’s not what you think!” or “you’re seriously overanalyzing this.” and honestly, nobody believes him. but, with jaehyun, being the absolute menace he can be, he doesn’t just tease–he also plots. he always gets you involved in the most “subtle” (read: not subtle at all) ways. he’ll always pair you two together for things, casually nudge you to brush sungho’s hair out of his face, or set up situations where you’re the only one paying attention to him. anything to make sungho go red. it’s safe to say that it works all of the time and he hates loves it.

LEE SANGHYEOK

HOW IT STARTED: riwoo naturally tries hiding his feelings, but the shift in his energy whenever you’re around only gives it away. it’s not that he becomes nervous or fidgety–it’s the complete opposite. he relaxes. the tension in his shoulders eases, his voice softens, and his usual sharp focus on everything else fades, replaced by an unshakable awareness that you are in his presence. it’s the subtle things that give him away. the way his eyes instinctively follow your movements, how his expression almost unconsciously lightens when you enter the room. if you’re not there, there’s always a slight dip in his move–a sigh, a quick press of his lips together before he shakes it off and forces himself to focus on what he was doing again. so, when riwoo has a crush, he doesn’t just think about you–he thinks for you. if he bought the latest donut versions, he wonders if you would also like his favorites. if he’s listening to music, he wonders if you’d enjoy the choreography he’d make for it. it’s like you occupy an entire part of his brain that just won’t shut off. and when he’s around you, his mission is simple–make you smile. even if it means cracking the worst joke of his life, even if it barely makes sense, as long as he gets that reaction from you, it’s worth it. and with taesan noticing the rampage of jokes riwoo has been saying recently, he’s smart enough to know that something is going on. the moment he knows, taesan is already preparing himself to have the talk with riwoo before letting the rest of the members in on the secret.

HOW IT ENDED: once everyone finds out, riwoo immediately becomes more cautious. every move he makes around you is now calculated—or at least, he tries to make it that way. he knows that anything even slightly affectionate will be met with endless teasing, so he hesitates more than usual. but that doesn’t stop the others from commenting on his shy behavior. the second riwoo says or does anything remotely smooth, it’s over for him. the moment you leave, the members take turns nudging him, smirking as they ask, “what was that?”—mocking the way he unconsciously softened his voice when he spoke to you, the way his hands hovered for just a second too long when passing something to you. and even if he chooses to show any hesitation, that doesn’t stop them from their teasing. it’s easy to catch riwoo flustered—ask him a question about you and his face warms instantly, and he’s forced to spit something out—anything—even if his words come out a little rushed, a little awkward, a little too obvious. riwoo—thanks to taesan—barely has time to think before all eyes are on him for an answer. so, when it comes to displaying romantic gestures, you can already imagine riwoo praying that they show some mercy on him (spoiler alert: they never will).

HAN DONGMIN

HOW IT STARTED: when taesan gets a crush on somebody, he’s surprisingly open about it–but only once he’s sure his feelings are the real deal…and completely unsalvageable. until then, he is stuck in overthinking mode all the time. everything–absolutely everything–starts to become a potential sign. if your hands brushed his for a few seconds, was it by accident or done on purpose (and we all know what answer he is most leaning towards)? does the way you text with extra letters and random caps mean anything? every interaction lingers in his mind for the rest of the day, sometimes longer if he convinces himself there must be a deeper meaning behind it. and the funniest part? taesan thinks he’s so good at hiding it. however, the way he zones out mindlessly on his own with a blank look, it’s practically a dead giveaway that something is up. leehan, the observant one, is the first one to notice his odd behavior. at first, he tries to snap taesan out of it gently—calling his name, waving a hand in front of his face. but after the millionth time of being ignored, he resorts to nudging his bandmate hard. and that’s when taesan, without thinking, blurts out, “do you think y/n meant something with that?” …and the that in question was you buying him a snack during his break. once leehan realizes that taesan was dead serious, that’s when even he knows that there’s no saving him now. han taesan is too far gone. 

HOW IT ENDED: as taesan’s crush on you starts to become known to the rest–thanks to the other members–his internal conflict only grows stronger. with them being involved, his emotions bubble up, and it’s a mix of joy, confusion, and honestly, stress. does he feel happy now that he can bother anyone with his long rants about you? or is he simply overwhelmed by all the teasing and overanalyzing of every single interaction he has with you? who knows… but it’s definitely both at once. every time you’re around, they feed into his overthinking, fueling his doubts and flustered state with their constant comments. it’s enough to drive anyone mad—especially if leehan is constantly telling him that you feel the same way with his (hopefully not) out of reach explanations. he would definitely try to get the members to stop, but the way he tries to stay composed only gets them to want to do even more. so, they are relentless–hyping up every shared glance between you two, every word you share with him, and even the smallest gestures, like when you refill his water bottle for him. whenever something even remotely “romantic” happens, they all pretend to be oblivious—only to secretly take pictures of taesan’s red-faced, flustered expression, sending them to the group chat with one simple sentence: "looks like someone is in love." and well? at least they aren’t wrong about that–taesan can’t help but get lost in the thought of you. 

KIM DONGHYUN

HOW IT STARTED: leehan, at first glance, he seems unreadable, someone who can effortlessly hide his emotions. his words don’t always match his demeanor—so when someone casually brings you up in conversation, and he simply shrugs and says, “yeah, I like them,” which it doesn’t exactly scream romantic interest. If anything, his calm expression and even-toned voice make it seem like he’s speaking in the most platonic way possible. so, naturally, people assume that if leehan did have a crush, he’d be impossible to figure out. but… is it really that hard? is it really that hard to notice the way his head instantly perks up by the sound of your voice? how his gaze softens when you’re around, his eyes practically glossed over with adoration? it’s always the little things that give leehan away as his attention always naturally gravitates towards you. so, when woonhak first saw the first few signs, he slowly started to understand the given situation. he had watched the subtle shifts in leehan’s expression, the way he unconsciously reacts to you, and he knew… which still, what is better than knowing from the actual source, right? so, when woonhak notices how he turned silent and avoidant after pulling leehan away for a conversation, that’s when woonhak had his answer that he was annoyingly going to let the others know easily.

HOW IT ENDED: leehan has never been the type to argue just for the sake of it. if something is true, he won’t deny it—though, in this case, he wants to. leehan wants to refute the teasing, to brush it all off like it’s nothing. but the words—they’re barely at the tip of his tongue. and even if he did say nothing and attempts to block out their voices, his body language betrays him completely. the way his shoulders stiffen, the way the tips of his ears burn red, the way his eyes widen just a little too much—it’s fuel for the others to keep going. it’s always, “look he’s flustered!” or “did you see the way he was with y/n?”, which always throws him off the tracks. but, if leehan thinks that they only tease him because he hasn’t made any moves, he is clearly mistaken. whenever he lingers, hesitating over whether to do something sweet, the others loudly start talking amongst themselves, commenting on his every move as if he can’t hear them. but despite all of this, despite the relentless teasing and loud whispers (which, let’s be real, aren’t even whispers at this point), leehan still manages to push through. he still finds ways to approach you, still follows through on little gestures that he wants to make, even if it means enduring the aftermath.

KIM WOONHAK

HOW IT STARTED: woonhak thinks he’s being subtle. really, he does. he tries so hard to act normal, to not make it obvious that you have him wrapped around your finger—but it’s painfully clear that he’s hiding something. woonhak always makes you an absolute priority. so, with whatever you want–if he could–he would get it for you. all you had to do was utter two words, “i need”, and he’s instantly up and running. before you can even finish your sentence, he’s back—arms comically full, balancing a blanket, snacks, a filled water bottle, and somehow, your favorite show has already been queued up on his laptop. it’s honestly a miracle he manages to carry all of it without dropping anything. it’s even more surprising because when the others ask him for a favor, woonhak grumbles, sighs, maybe throws in a dramatic complaint before begrudgingly doing it anyway. but when it’s you? you rarely even get to hear a tone of refusal from him. the way he’s so eager to help (or be with) you, it gets sungho’s gears in his head to start turning. so, it’s only fair for sungho to tell the others about it just so he’s not the only one overanalyzing this.

HOW IT ENDED: along with sungho, woonhak is easily one of the best candidates for getting a reaction that anyone would look forward to when teasing. the other members have a literal field day once they find out that woonhak really likes you. once woonhak accidentally slips up about even the slightest thing about you—whether it be a random thought or simply bringing you up—the others are never living it down. it doesn’t matter what woonhak says or does; the others might pretend to take him seriously for a moment, but within minutes, they’re right back to their usual antics, teasing him relentlessly after any interaction he has with you. it’s almost as if every teasing method in the book gets used on him. sometimes, they’ll drop your name out of nowhere just to see how he reacts—cue woonhak falling for it every single time. other times, they’ll perfectly mimic his little habits, like fixing his hair or fussing with his clothes whenever you’re around, exaggerating every movement made. and the worst part? they don’t stop at just copying him. if woonhak so much as tries to be romantic, they’ll reenact the moment in the most over-the-top way possible, dramatically exaggerating his every word and gesture until he’s practically begging them to stop. and with that statement coming from woonhak, they agree under one condition: woonhak has to confess to you. only then, they could finally stop (to which they knew, they won’t).

‘💬’ ─── is this love by xg is stuck in my head

BND PERM TAGLIST (OPEN) — @juyeoz @j4d @itsactuallylina @rizzwoos @coiwony @htaesan @macapunoz @pumpkg

[mariasont]

Training Day - A.H

a/n: you all wanted more bimbo!assistant!reader and i'm a woman of the people so here we are

on a real note i love her and she is my queen

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you don't understand why hotch is giving you training lessons, but apparently he thinks you need it

warnings: talking about men following her in public YUCK, hotch trying to train reader, reader not knowing what's going on, cuties being cute

wc: 0.8k

"I still don't really know why we're doing this."

You were grumbling more than was characteristic for you, with every part of your body, your arms, your legs, and even your ass, suffering from a dull ache--sadly, not the result of any enjoyable pastime. After being knocked over more times than you cared to count, Hotch extended his hand toward you. You gladly took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

Your fingers deftly pulled at your pink tracksuit top over the sliver of abdomen that that had been revealed in your less-than-graceful take down. Hotch had pointed out the impracticality of your outfit when you showed up, but you stood firm on the principle that if early training sessions were expected of you, then your attire would be non-negotiable.

"Because I want to be confident in your abilities to defend yourself." His arms folded over his chest as his gaze bore into you, challenging you to contradict him.

"I'm just here to look pretty and answer your phones, crime-fighting isn't in my job description. That's your thing, Mr."

You shuffled back to your original position anyway, hands coming up to shield your face as you mentally sorted through the steps, or at least tried to, struggling to recall the correct foot placement.

"Shoulder width apart."

It's like he could read your mind. You were not entirely convinced that he couldn't.

"Crime-fighting doesn't have to be your thing," Hotch stated, narrowing the gap between you, his hands firmly correcting your stance. You sometimes found an excuse to stand just so, hoping he would step in to manhandle you into place. "But being part of the BAU, even peripherally, means you're not immune to risks. I need to know you can handle yourself... for my piece of mind."

"Sir, is this like, your super-secret way of showing you care?"

Your lips twisted into a half-smile as his hands clasped your waist a little tighter than necessary: a warning that said you were playing with fire. His fingers then moved to direct yours, positioning them closer to your face, his knuckles lightly grazing across your cheek in the process.

"Eyes on me, stay focused."

"My eyes are always on you, sir," you say, your head canting to one side. 

He released a controlled breath, giving you a level look that signaling you were pushing it. Nevertheless, you flashed him a beaming smile and initiated the move he had been drilling into you. The tip of your elbow made contact with the soft of his stomach.

He issued a muted groan as he intercepted your arm, preventing it from digging further, and in a fluid motion he spun you around, pinning your backside to his front.

"That was perfect, right?" you squealed, your fist shooting up in victory.

The sudden jump caused his hands to shift from your arm, finding a new perch on your hips to steady your... enthusiastic bounce.

You whirled in his grasp, the proximity sending a faint hum through his chest. Clearing his throat, he managed. "Yes, uh, that was it."

Clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpled beneath your purple-tipped fingers, you giggled. "Just imagine someone trying to follow me to my car now. They wouldn't know what hit 'em!"

"Is that a common occurrence?" The lines of his face gathered into that customary look of concern, that characteristic frown of his making an appearance.

He gently disentangled your hands from his shirt, not letting go, but rather laying his atop of yours.

"Well, sometimes, but I usually just call Morgan, put him on speaker, and he starts talking about the FBI stuff," you explained, giving a light shrug that nudged the zipper of your jacket down just a smidge. "They take off after that."

He clenched his eyes shut, pausing momentarily before reopening it. One hand let go of yours to adjust the zipper back to its proper position.

"That makes my stomach hurt." And it did. "Don't hesitate to call me when that happens. I'll come get you."

Your smile stretched ear to ear, potent enough to make him feel lightheaded. "You know, with all these trainings, who needs to call for help?"

"How about we compromise, and you still call me, regardless?"

You pout your lips, shiny with clear gloss rather than your usual pink. "That sounds less like a compromise and more like a you thing, ya know?"

Hotch's laughter rumbled from his chest, a warm, breathy sound, as he let go of your hands, which he realized he had been holding far longer than appropriate, and guided you to the door.

"You don't appreciate the added precautions I'm willing to take for your safety?"

Dragging your sneaker on the floor, you plucked your bag from the wall as Hotch closed the door behind you. "Gee, when you say it like that..."

When you walked down the hall you seemed to be perfectly in step.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @sarcasm-and-stiles

join my taglist here

[sleeplessdove]

be a body

e. williams x fem! reader

synopsis: the thrill of firing your girlfriend’s gun is greater than you could have ever imagined

a/n: wrote while high & not proofread !

warnings: dark themes !!! outdoor/public sex, gun usage that is incredibly irresponsible, do not do any of this !!!, gun used for penetration, r! gets eaten out, pet names, established relationship, heavy dom/sub themes!!!, slapping, r! is described more as a femme, predator/prey kink (?), gun kink, fear play, power imbalance, and lots more !

wc: 2.3k

You can feel her hand tightening against yours, as if daring you to finally pull the trigger. Even with no exchange of words, you understand why she is being so patient. She is measuring your breaths, waiting for you to slip up. Both of you know you’re out of your element but she needs to be able to prove it through your own actions. 

The weapon is dreadfully heavy and if Ellie’s hands weren’t guiding your own, you would’ve dropped it ages ago. A heavy silence falls between the two of you, the only sound being caused by your short and panicked breaths. But all the while, her breaths remained calm and had a natural ease to them. 

The amount of power she had at this moment left you petrified, and yet you never wanted this to end. You could feel her breath fluttering against your skin as she lowered her lips towards your neck, placing a tender kiss against it before speaking. 

“Take it nice n’ slow, sweetheart” 

In an instant, your whole body seemed to relax and it was as if the entire world had just gone silent. Your eyes locked onto the empty beer bottle Ellie had so kindly put out for you as target practice, and you finally felt that you were seeing it clearly. You took in a deep breath, exhaling from your mouth as you finally pressed down against the trigger enough to cause it to fire. 

The sound is disruptive to say the least, your body tensing as your ears begin to ring. It takes a moment for your mind to even register that before the ringing began, you could clearly hear the glass bottle shattering. Relief flooded every inch of your body, pride swelling in your chest. 

Your moment of triumph was interrupted as Ellie pulled the gun from your hands with very little effort, your eyes following the movements of her fingers as she turned the safety back on and slid her favorite handgun back into the holster she always wore on her thigh. 

She turns your body so you’re facing her, her strong hands firmly gripping your hips. “Look at you, little miss perfect, hm?” she questions with a smile that feels mocking but some part of you is truly soothed by it. 

You shake your head, a bashfulness growing deep inside of you that had been planted by the attention Ellie gave you. “I only got it cause you were helping” you mutter, your words small and passive. 

“And she’s modest too” Ellie quips playfully, always seeming to bask in the glow that came with teasing you endlessly. Her firm hold on your hips seems to lighten up, leaving your body to sway a bit, lost without her guidance. But soon enough, her hands begin to trail up your body. 

Every curve of your body is traced by her skilled fingers, as if she were molding you into something new, something you had always wanted to be. The feel of her rough hands came with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you feeling breathless. At the same time you had never felt such euphoria, the rush of proving yourself to Ellie mixed with the fear of being in the woods with your armed girlfriend making everything feel like a dream. 

The cold air bites your skin as she pushes up your sweater, the realization that the two of you were out where anyone could see you making you tense in the slightest. She is quick to soothe you, leaning down to drag her tongue against the pulse point on your neck. A filthy moan leaves Ellie’s lips as she feels the wild beat of your heart against her own tongue. 

It’s a reminder that she is the one in control, and she can’t help but gently graze her teeth against the flesh, although she eternally wishes to simply sink her teeth into you. She is only being gentle because she wants to make you wait for the pleasure you are seeking out. 

“Please” you breathe out, unsure of what you’re even asking for at this point. You’d take anything from her, whether it be a kiss or a punch, anything was better than her punishingly slow pace. 

Your plea only makes her scoff and she makes a point of pressing a messy kiss against your neck before she finally moves so that the two of you are eye to eye. “Do you really think you’re the one in charge here?” she questions, feigning curiosity. When you only frown at her, she moves one hand away from your body and uses it to lightly slap your cheek. 

“I asked you a question” she adds on, her tone no longer playful. The small slap was barely enough to cause a sting but it left you reeling, the small correction instantly putting you back in your place. 

“No, I don’t” you finally mutter, speaking the truth since there was no other option. Your words must have been correct, as Ellie’s expression becomes much warmer after you speak. “That’s what I thought” she hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

To be rewarded for such words makes you dizzy with delight, the feeling of everything being out of your control somehow managing to calm you. When she finally kisses your lips, it’s as if the gates of Heaven had opened for you. 

Her tongue was akin to velvet, so warm and inviting as it slid against your own. Despite your own desperation, Ellie keeps the kiss slow and behaves as if she has all the time in the world with you. 

She shushes the borderline pitiful whines that fall from your lips when she pulls away, although she makes up for it by trailing kisses down your clothed body. You watch as she kneels before you, pushing you back against the large tree behind you. Once she has you pinned there, she begins to behave like a woman starved. 

With reverent movements, she kisses your thighs that were still covered by tights and bunches up your skirt between her fists. It feels dirty in a way you can’t quite describe, but it makes your cunt ache with need. “You did so good, following my directions cause you’re so smart” she praises, her moans mixing with her words seamlessly. 

Your body practically trembles beneath her grasp, immediately moving your hips to help her tug down your skirt along with your tights. It’s not rushed, as Ellie loves to take her time with you. “Maybe we should’ve come on a warmer day” she comments, noticing the way the cold breeze had you shaking. 

“No, no. Today is perfect, I like it” you reassure breathlessly, needing Ellie to not have a single bit of hesitance while touching you. Your quick reply makes her grin and she traces her fingers along the cotton material of your panties. 

The sight of the cute bunny printed onto the front of your panties makes her heart swell with adoration and she can’t help but lean down to press a kiss against the little bunny. “You’re the sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen” she states as if it were the most truthful words that had ever left her lips. 

You can only let out huffs and broken moans as she finally tugs your panties down past your thighs, doing your best to spread your legs while still leaning against the hard bark of the tree. 

She spreads you open for her own viewing pleasure, finding solace only when she’s buried between your thighs. You thread your fingers through her hair, tugging just enough to have her groaning. There is no doubt that you should be ashamed but when Ellie is treating your body as if it’s something holy, you can’t think straight. 

When she dips her head down and you feel the sloppy kiss she presses against your clit, you let out a moan that rumbles deep within your chest. You don’t dare to press her mouth closer to you, knowing there would be immediate consequences to your actions. 

So you’re forced to endure the slow kisses she trails all along your most intimate area, her tongue lapping at your slit ever so gently. The mere tip of her tongue had you holding onto the tree that kept you steady, the bark cracking under your fingers. 

“Did holding my gun get you all worked up, bunny? Did you feel all powerful?” she questions, her mouth so close to your cunt as she speaks that you can feel her breath against you. It leaves you squirming, unsure if you want her to do more or less. 

“Felt nice to hold, really nice” you whisper, being given no time to react as she turns you so that you are bent over and holding on to the tree. “Yeah, baby? It sounds like you love my gun just as much as you love me” she coos, using her thumbs to spread open your cunt once more, the new angle letting her see you on a deeper level. 

“There’s my pretty girl” she praises, and you’re unsure if she is speaking about you or your cunt. Either way, you feel your face heat up from all the praise she has been giving you. You’re sticky with arousal and Ellie can’t deny herself any longer. 

She leans closer, remaining on her knees behind you as she begins to feverishly eat you out. Her tongue flattens against your slit only to move back upwards so she can flick her tongue mercilessly against your twitching clit. When she closes her lips around your bud and begins to suck, your hips jerk involuntarily. 

“No, want you inside” you plead with a mewl, needing to feel connected with her. Although you know you’re asking for the impossible, as out in the middle of the woods Ellie couldn’t just grab her strap to fuck you brains out. 

However to your surprise, she is immediately able to find a way to give you the contact you are seeking out. She nudges her tongue against your slit carefully before slowly sinking it inside, fucking you on her tongue. 

It’s not nearly as deep as her strap could reach but in that moment, it’s all you needed. Her mouth is hot against you, her spit dripping down her chin as she worships your pussy. 

You’re so lost in the blinding pleasure that you don’t even realize the movements Ellie has made, that is until it’s too late. She knows you're close and yet she pulls away, leaving you aching for more. 

“Shhhhh, princess. I’ve got just what you’ve been begging for” she soothes, pressing the warm barrel of the gun against your hole that was still clenching around nothing. 

The strange feeling is enough to make you turn your head so you can glance back at her, your eyes wide with fear. Ellie uses her free hand to gently rub against the skin of your thigh, offering an understanding smile. “The safety’s on, promise. But if you wanna stop, you can tell me” she says in a calm voice that could’ve made you melt. 

No matter the shame you felt, you couldn’t deny that she was right, that this is what you wanted. “Need it…” you confess, as if pleading with her to push it inside. Your words are enough for Ellie to lose any sense of hesitation, her finger gently circling your clit while she pushes the tip of her gun inside you. 

It’s warm from the recent firing of it but much smoother than you expected, the attention to your clit making the stretch much easier since you were preoccupied with ecstasy. “That’s it, baby. Look at this pretty pussy, all spread open n’ fuckin’ dripping for me” she says in a rough voice, getting worked up just from watching you. 

The thrusts from the weapon are deep and slow, letting you feel every detail of the gun inside you. The mix of fear and arousal creates something delicious and you know that you can’t hold on much longer. 

“Can I cum, please? I’ve been so good, did everything you told me to” you beg, needing her permission and approval for every little thing. Ellie sighs, as if saddened that this moment will be coming to an end but she still speeds up the thrusts for you, wanting to help you finish. 

“Of course, bun. C’mon, cum on my gun the same way you cum on my cock” she encourages, her words beyond dirty yet neither of you cared. The sound of her voice is all you need before you’re crying out her name, creaming around the still warm weapon. 

Ellie curses as she watches your pussy clamp down on her handgun like a silk vice, pulling it from your body carefully so she can see your dripping core that she had just stretched open with her weapon of choice. 

“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna help me clean this up” she mutters as she observes her gun that was now a complete mess of your juices. You can only groan in response, in no mood to help her clean her guns after she just pushed your body to its limit. 

When she realizes how out of it you are, she simply tucks away her gun and tugs your clothes back into place so you’re at least covered up. “Once we get back, I’ll give you what you want, alright?” she promises, standing up and not caring to dust the dirt off her knees. 

You can’t stop the pleased smile that spreads onto your lips, nodding contently before she gives your ass a gentle smack to get you to move on your own. The soreness is beginning to build in your body but Ellie lets you lean against her as the two of you walk back to the cabin. 

The fear from earlier lingers a bit but it only makes you more eager to reach your shared bedroom so that you can feel her tender touch that never failed to make the world feel like a perfect place.