#to the point of entering subspace

[tetsuskei]

oh to have the sadness fucked out of me

[whatidonthaveanyhomework]

Enjoying the view?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: basically Natasha takes care of you after a long day (with sex)

Warnings: smut, dom Natasha, sub reader, degradation, mommy kink, biting(?), slight overstimulation, aftercare, subspace

A/N: I’ve never written anything before so idk how good this is, please don’t be mean to me

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You stumble into your house, tired from your day at work. You had overslept and spent the entire day running from meeting to meeting. All you really wanted to do was come home and spend time with your girlfriend. As you step into the house, you’re greeted with the scent of pizza in the oven. In the kitchen you find Natasha tossing a bagged salad. As you enter the room she comes over to you and leans in for a kiss. 

“Hi detka,” she mumbles against your lips, pulling you into a tight embrace. You breathe in the scent of her shampoo, reveling in the soft domesticity of the moment. 

“Hi love,” you respond, as Natasha pulls back, placing another quick kiss on your lips before returning to her salad. 

“How was your day?” She asks, pouring the salad dressing packet into her salad as you lean against the island in your kitchen. You sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Well, I woke up and my girlfriend wasn’t there to kiss me, and then I nearly missed the bus, and then Steve sent me to all my meetings and then all of Wanda’s since she’s on sick leave, and I got curry on my pants at lunch,” you complain. Natasha gives the salad a final toss before pulling you into another hug, her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. 

“I’m sorry angel. That’s exhausting,” she consoles and you nod, pulling her body closer to yours.

The timer on the pizza beeps, and Natasha pulls away, placing an apologetic kiss on your hairline. She takes the pizza out of the oven, and the two of you set the table to eat. 

During dinner, Natasha keeps close to you, always in physical contact with you in some way. You lean into it, grateful for the comfort in your tired state. After dinner, the two of you head upstairs to shower before getting in bed. You climb into the shower and take turns washing each other before changing into pajamas and climbing in bed together to watch a show. 

Climbing into bed, Natasha pulls you onto her lap, holding you against her body tightly. You place your head on her shoulder to admire your girlfriend, noticing her soft lips and ample cleavage her tank top provides. You breathe in her scent, mostly ignoring the show you’ve both seen a million times. 

Natasha looks down at you, an amused smile gracing her lips. 

“Enjoying the view?” She teases and you blush, casting your eyes downward, and nod. 

“Yes Natty,” you say, suddenly very shy. Natasha chuckles softly, lifting your chin with a single finger to meet her gaze. You look into her eyes, and see them darken, heat pooling at your core. Natasha pulls you in, lips meeting. 

The kiss starts soft, but quickly turns more passionate as Natasha takes control, forcing your tongue back into your mouth. You moan softly at the sensation, and Natasha pulls you impossibly closer, her fingers tangling in your hair as the other hand grips your waist. 

Throwing your arms around her neck, you move to straddle your girlfriend’s lap. Natasha trails kisses down your neck, and you sigh at the sensation. She finds your pulse point and sucks on it, leaving a mark. You whimper, wanting more. 

“Oh darling, is someone needy?” She asks in a condescending tone that goes straight to your core. “I need words, detka,” she says, as you try to retake control over your voice. 

“Yes.” You whine, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

“Well, I guess we should do something about that, shouldn't we detka?” She asks, her voice dropping an octave. You nod adamantly as she maneuvers the two of you so that the two of you are laying on the bed, with her on top of you, straddling your waist. Natasha yanks your (her) shirt off your chest, which she quickly follows with her own. 

Your mind goes fuzzy at the sight of your girlfriend shirtless on top of you, and you nearly moan when she grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, leaning down to kiss you again. 

The kiss is all tongue and teeth and you groan as Natasha bits softly on your bottom lip. 

“Oh, does my babygirl like it when I bite her?” She asks. 

“Yes Mommy,” you sigh out, desperate for her to touch you. Mercifully, she also seems desperate to move her touch lower, and runs one of her hands over your chest, rolling your nipple between her fingers. 

“Fuck,” you cry, back arching up into her body and squeezing your legs together to try to aliviate the ache. Natasha lightly slaps your chest, and you can feel more arousal pooling in your underwear. 

“Watch your language detka,” she commands. “Only good girls get to come.” You nod, breaking eye contact. 

“‘M sorry Mommy. I’ll be good,” you say, and are rewarded a moment later by Natasha’s mouth on your chest as her hands travel down to your stomach, tracing random patterns there before following lower, lifting your hips to pull your pajama pants off. 

She pulls your legs open, dragging her nails lightly down the inside of your thighs. Bringing her hand further up, she ghosts her fingers against your folds over top of your underwear before pressing softly on your clit. You whine, but hold still, knowing Natasha won’t take kindly to you chasing her fingers. 

“Please touch me,” you wine, earning a low chuckle as the redhead slips your underwear off and starts lightly rubbing circles around your clit. You whimper, rolling your hips lightly against her finger. 

“Hold on a second sweetheart.” She said, removing her hand from your clit and planting an apologetic kiss on your lips. You grumble at the loss of friction, pressing your legs together to try to alleviate the ache between them as Natasha rummaged through her nightstand drawers.

“Ah ah keep those legs open for me love,” Natasha said, yanking her harness over her hips. You pull them apart again, whining.

“None of that sweet girl. Let Mommy take care of you,” she said, teasing your entrance with the tip of her strap before sinking into you. You let out a strangled moan. 

“Oh baby do you like that?” Natasha teases, thrusting into you hard and deep. 

“Y-yes Mommy,” you respond, eyes rolling back in your head as you hold the sheets below you in a death grip in an attempt to ground yourself. Natasha speeds up, enjoying your desperate state. You bite your lip, trying not to scream as the pleasure mounts inside you. 

“Ohh baby you look so pretty falling apart for mommy,” Natasha says. She leans down over you, grabbing one of your boobs to gain leverage so she could thrust harder into you. 

“Mommyyyyy,” you moan out. 

“What do you need, princess?” She asks, leaning closer to ghost your mouth. 

“C-can you please bite me?” You ask, your breathing speeding up as you approach your climax. 

“Aww, my dirty girl wants to be bitten?” Natasha mocks, kissing your neck lightly. 

“Please mommy I’m so close I’m so close please bite me,” you cry out. 

“Ok honey, you can come whenever you like,” Natasha says. She bites the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, and the coil in your stomach snaps. Pleasure washes over you, and you cry out, clinging onto Natasha. However, Natasha keeps going. 

“M-mommy what are you doing?” You ask, the overstimulation a little much. 

“Mmh-sorry princess mommy’s just so close,” Natasha says, her hips becoming erratic as the strap slams into you, hitting her clit just right. A couple seconds later, she lets out a low groan as she grips you tightly, coming. Then she collapses on top of you. 

You lay there together for a couple seconds before Natasha pulls you into a soft kiss. 

“Are you ok angel?” Natasha asks, softly tracing her hands across your body. 

“Of course mommy,” you say, pulling her back on top of you, just needing to feel her skin on yours. 

“Ok good. You did so well.” She praises, stroking your hair. The two of you stay there for a while, holding each other, before Natasha starts to pull away again. You tighten your grip on her, confused as to why she’s moving. 

“I’m sorry baby girl I have to pull out so we can clean up for bed,” Natasha says, and you reluctantly let her pull away and out, grimacing. 

“Ssh it’s ok baby,” Natasha coos, pulling you back into her arms and picking you up to carry you to the bathroom. She gently wipes between your legs with a wet washcloth, and then proceeds to lovingly wash your face and do your skincare routine for you. You lean into her touch, dimly aware of what’s happening, until you feel her place something in your hand. 

“Hey babygirl,” Natasha says as she sees your eyes focus on her. “Can you brush your teeth for me?”

You nod, lazily running the toothbrush across your teeth, as your girlfriend quickly gets herself ready for bed. She then takes the toothbrush from you, and a few moments later she’s hoisting you up and taking you to bed. She tucks you in before cuddling up behind you. 

“Night angel,” she whispers, kissing the side of your head.

“Mmm love you,” you mumble. 

“Love you too sweet girl.”

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thx for reading, pls don’t plagiarize me

[a-strange-familiar]

an angsty idea: f! Reader flinches during a steamy (not THAT kind of steamy) argument (bonus points for subspace) ends in fluff maybe idk, <33 ur work is *chefs kiss* ily ♥︎♡

Awww. ily too. Hope you enjoy, lovie 💗 and sooo sorry for the late <333

A/n : I got this request little over a year back and I wrote half of this and completely forgot. I got a random motivation to write this now. I really hope the anon who requested it will have a chance to read it. ♡

And also I reached a milestone (not a VERY big one, but its special to me) on my followers, thank you for all your love and support ❤️

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It's been more than three weeks since Y/n and Harry spent some quality time together. Harry was really busy with work and Y/n understood that and focused on her university work.

But it's actually bugging her. She can't lie saying that she is not feeling insecure. He is a very handsome man. Beautiful, sweet, respectful and understanding. And Y/n also know for a fact that there are many women out there trying to get in his pants or his life. But she know him, he would never do that to her. But she can't help but worry about it though.

So she kept herself busy with school and work both but she miss Harry, so thought about talking to him and having dinner together.

Today especially she had a worst day, not completely worst but worst day of the month. From the moment she woke she felt off. Something is not good and she had a terrible headache but still she went to college and later to work.

But in college she got a bad grade in a test which led up to her professor calling her to his office and giving her an earful. It's her mistake for not preparing properly for the test. And later she had to face a rude costumer at her work, and her whole mood got even worse.

By the time she came home she was feeling very low and sad. All she wanted was to cry her heart out and have some snuggles from Harry. She misses him soo much, they are living in the same house but lately doesn't feel like that.

She opened the door and stepped inside to find the lights are on, she thanked the heavens that Harry is home early. She just want to see him and kiss him.

She is feeling soo subby, not in a sexual way. She wants to be taken care of and loved. She wants Harry to hug and kiss her tears away. She just wants to be near him.

She went inside and figured that Harry is indeed home and in his office. As every step she takes she hear his voice taking in phone with someone and he is clearly stressed and angry.

She went near the door and contemplated about knocking the door or directly opening it. She decided to knock first, she faintly knocked and the talking stopped for a second and continued.

She waited for a couple seconds and slowly opened the door.

There he is, sitting in his office with his phone in one hand and eyes on the laptop infront him with his brows furrowed and visible tension and tiredness his face.

Y/n sticked her head inside the room without entering completely and called his name.

He looked at her for second, and smiled. It's not his smile. It's not a smile at all. He just made his lip form a thin line and nodded his head to let her know that he acknowledged her presence.

She wanted to call his name again but she didn't. He is busy and that's visible, as much as she wants his attention she knows better that interrupting something important.

She turned back and went into their room. Maybe after a bit he will be able give her his attention.

She showered and wore one of Harry's t-shirt and did her night time skincare. And after a good one and half hour she decided to go to Harry and talk.

She knocked on his office again and but this time she heard a faint 'come in' .

"Hi baby" She said softly

"Hi , love." He said in return and looked at her for a second and got back to his work.

Y/n fidgeted with her fingers and thought of something to talk about.

But Harry broke the silence. " how was your day ? "

She felt relived that he asked about it and that she didn't have to start the topic.

"Um.... not very good actually." She said

He looked at her with his brows furrowed and asked "What happened, baby ?"

"Just not feeling good and didn't have a good day at uni and at work." She shrugged

"Ohh, I'm sorry, love."

"Harry do you think we can watch a movie and talk for a bit. I don't really feel good. I could use some cuddled and a kiss." She asked shyly.

"Um...... " he started .

"I'm sorry but I really can't right now ,baby. I have so much of work. I can give you a kiss though." He said and got right back into his work.

Y/n stood there without moving. She wanted to be understood, all she wanted was his attention and his closeness.

For weeks she has been an understanding girlfriend and gave him space and let him prioritize his work, but she had enough.

"Harry, it's been weeks since we spent some time and shared an actual conversation. I have been patient but I think you should be understanding to my needs too." She ranted all her thoughts inside her head.

He lifted his head for his laptop and looked at her with an unreadable expression.

She really wished to know what was going on in that head of his.

"I know. I'm sorry that I haven't given you any attention in weeks but I have work to do, Y/n. I can't abandon them and look after your needs." He said that last part in a very mocking way that made her wince internally.

She sighed and started "Harry, I think -"

"Y/n, I don't have time for your chit-chat. Can't you see I have work to do ?" He yelled at her with fuming expression on his face.

Y/n was caught of guard by the yelling, and flinched and her face colored with shock and fear.

She was never in an abusive relationship that made her react this way. But seeing Harry yell at her made her pretty sacred and also Harry can be pretty scary when he is angry.

By seeing her reaction Harry's eyes softened and regret was written all over his face.

He was about to open his mouth and get up from his chair when y/n took a step back and murmured a small 'sorry' and left the room in a hurry.

Harry's heart clenched seeing that expression on her face. He wanted nothing more than to take those words back. Seeing tears in her eyes was the last thing he wanted to witness. But he already made her cry.

~~~

Y/n rushed to their room with blurry vision and tears streaming down her face. She wiped her face and got onto the bed and buried her face in her soft feather like pillows.

She cried and let her heart feel the pain for few minutes before she stopped.

She wanted to go somewhere else and give Harry some space, but she can't just go to anyone's house in the middle of the night and crash. So she had no choice but to be in their house.

After few more minutes she heard a faint sound of their bedroom door opening but she didn't open her eyes or peered up at Harry to see what he is doing

He got on the bed beside her and ran his hand down her back slowly.

"I'm soo sorry, love " He whispered.

"I really, really am. Work is hectic and I was going through something at office and took it on you. Im sorry and I know I have been distant lately. It's absolutely my fault and nothing to do with you. Im just an arrogant son of a bitch."

He kissed her head let his lips linger for few moments.

His words sounded sincere and y/n also knew he really didn't mean to yell but it's still hurt her.

"Can you please look at me ,baby ?" He asked her in a pleading tone that she couldn't ignore.

She slowly turned towards him and looked at him, his eyes were sad and regret colored his face. She felt bad for a second.

"I'm sorry baby." He said again as he caressed her face gently with his finger.

"Can you please forgive me, my love ? " He asked her as he looked into her eyes with soo much love.

She nodded her head and gave him a small smile. No matter what happened it's really hard for her to be mad at him for long time.

He returned her smile and kissed her lips softy. "I'll make it up for you , baby. What do wanna do ? You still want to watch a movie?"

She shook her head. "No. I think I want to get some rest."

His smile faltered a bit and he felt disappointed but he gave her kiss and stoked her hair. "Whatever you want , my love"

"Can you can lay down with me for a bit if you are not busy ? " She asked in a soft voice still not wanting to come between him and his work.

His smile grew as he laid on the bed with her and opened his arms wide for her to hug him and cuddle.

Without wasting any time she went into his arms and snuggled with him.

He kissed her head and murmured "I love soo much, love. I will never ignore you again "

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A/n : please let me know if you like this and comment and send me asks and interact with me if you like it.

I have been very inactive on this app, but I'm back. Here is small something for you guys. Hope you like it.

As always lots of love. 💗

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Thanks for reading.

Hope you enjoyed.

Please like, comment and reblog of you like it.

[semicolonsspace]

Him (your favorite) (Stiles//Dylan O'Brien)

No use of names. Just pet names and Y/n.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Roleplay, unprotected sex, edging, begging, praise kink, degradation kink, Bondage (use of handcuffs), breeding kink, stretch kink(?), mommy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace.

"Honey, I'm home," he yells as he shuts the door. He would always do this, he would always say it's 'hilarious'. Y/n found it humorous so soon after they made it a thing she started doing it as well. But except she put her spin onto it, talking like a 1940s housewife that just got back running errands.

Y/n rounds the corner to the front door. She was wearing his favorite, his T-shirt and shorts— or at least he thought she was wearing some; She wasn't. She was doing errands around the house in his shirt—Which mostly consisted of organizing the new room they had just renovated— more like Y/n renovated because she wanted it to be perfect!

"Hello, dear," she says in her housewife's voice. He laughs at her and pulls her in by the hips to kiss her. His hands snaked under the shirt she wore and slapped her ass when he realized she was only wearing underwear and his shirt. "You tryna kill me today?" He asks in a guttural groan. Her forehead rested on his as she smiled lovingly at her boyfriend of two wonderful years. "Not currently."

He gave her a playful shrewd look. "I think I'm already dead, then," he hums suggestively as he pulls hair out of her face, then resting his hand to cup it. His soft touch sent a chill down her spine as she stared up at him with lust that was masked by playfulness. "Oh, yeah?" She starts as she bats her eyelashes. "Well, I guess I might have to resurrect you."

He looked intrigued by her choice of words, choosing a decision for himself he indulged her humorous antics. "How so?"

"By laying you on my sacrificial altar bed and extracting your life force fluids," she jokingly purrs at him. That seemed good enough for him because he slung her body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he walked he shreaded his layers then threw her on their bed.

Y/n scolded him for being so careless, as she almost hit her head on the metal bed frame. She pulls him down, and pulls his shirt off effortlessly—as she had done it so many times before due to the numerous times of "catching up sex" they had due to his work. She pins his pale buffed arms to the mattress while speaking. "Now, baby. Don't you remember how I said 'I' have to extract some fluids?"

He looks up at her and smirks. He decided to indulge her roleplay and started improvising lines. "Please, don't hurt me— I'll be good— you said you needed fluids, take my spit anything but my blood!" He whined with feigning horror. But she knew he was aroused, she could feel it— feel his 7-inch cock pressing— begging to be drained by her— and if he was lucky he could have her cunt to grip her tight.

Y/n chuckles darkly, something he thought was too authentic to be in their present roleplay. "I never specified which fluid I needed, dummy."

His eyes widened when he 'realized' what she meant. "By all means, go ahead— just don't kill me— please—" he begged once more. Y/n plants a soft kiss on his pointed elf-like nose as if saying 'good.'

That led to having him cuffed to the bed for hours. Her hand wrapped around his cock— jerking it just to stop before he would release. She wanted him to explode when he did so. And she wanted it to be inside of her. She wanted to feel the familiarity of the thick warm liquid rife her up just for it to enter her cervix. She was on the pill, plus she had a few boxes of plan B she liked to keep a stack of.

"Mama! Please! Just let me cum! I'll be good!" He screams, fake tears streaming from his eyes. Some of them were genuine tears from how delicious the pleasure was.

"Will you be my little ingredient holder?" She tilted her head as she spoke, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. "I need lots of human sperm to make my potions, would you like that? For me to milk you dry every day?"

He lets out a guttural groan that she didn't think was part of the roleplay. This was purely him. He was enjoying every bit of this, lapping up all the attention his girlfriend gave her.

The last statement was proved by his hips thrusting into her hips in an attempt to chase his orgasm. She stops and rubs his stomach. "How many times was that? 6 times? 6 potential orgasms just for me to stop... That makes me powerful don't you think? To have the ability to stop you from doing something your body chases? It's okay though, you'll get it soon."

Then her cunt was hovering over his red cock that was tortured for the last 2 hours. He nodded eagerly as he babbled how much he needed her to finish him off— to give her the "ingredient" she needed. She sat on him, wincing at how big he was, Every time she had him in her at first she would always be shocked by how much he stretched her fluttering walls.

"Going to be the best ingredient ever— make the strongest potion," she praises, continuing their little roleplay. He didn't seem to be acting anymore due to the immense pleasure, mostly just him begging for mercy for her to finish him off finally.

"For fucks sake— please just ride me, mama— need it," he whines, actual tears falling down his face. He was ruined— disheveled. And she felt glorious; she had done that. She had made him feel so divine just for her to deny his unholy release six whole times.

Y/n clicks her tongue and slaps his chest slightly, before reaching back and squeezing his balls. By his reaction she knew it was painful from how much he groaned— a different type of groan— he needed that release and she was just toying with him— She had been toying with him this whole time. "Next time you won't finish. I may need the ingredient but I can always use other fluids," she warns darkly.

He seemed to get that she was still roleplaying and nodded, breathing a sorry that was soon sucked in as she started hopping on him, his dick curve hitting her spot every time she sheathed onto him.

Her hands rested on his pecs before finding his nipples and tugging on them harshly. "Pretty boy looks so good fucked out for me," she whispers into his ear, her one hand caressing his sweaty hair. "Only for you." His eyes flutter, his mouth staying open. She kissed him— now instead of hopping, she was rocking into him, which seemed more sensual to them as they moaned in sync, telling each other they loved each other, completely forgetting about the roleplay. Now it was just the couple of two years that have lived with each other for eleven months.

Y/n reaches for the cuffs and he shakes his head while begging a no. "Keep them on, please," he moans.

Her mouth forms a smile before opening from the pleasure. She gets an idea so they both have what they want. "Wanna feel you touch me," she says uncuffing one singular cuff. His hand immediately finds her hip while his hips thrust into her—seeming like he was trying to gain control.

"Fucking being a brat for not letting me cum, baby," he groans as he pinches her nipple. She smiles at him before kissing his neck. "Good," she whispers, before unlatching the other cuff. Then she was flipped on her stomach, her ass in the air, her face buried in the mattresses as he plunged his abused cock into her. "Oh, you feel so good—way better than your hand, that's for damn sure," he murmurs breathily. Y/n was clawing at the mattress, bratty almost pornographic moans being muffled into the light grey satin sheets.

She lifts her head finally, positioning her body to arch, her elbows propping her up as he continued to rail her pussy into oblivion. "Cum in me— wanna feel you-"

He cuts her off before she continues with a humorous moaning chuckle. "Trust me, I'm gonna fucking milk every fuckin' drop inside this pussy, gonna stuff it full so you can carry my baby," he growls, making his thrust harder to punch— not kiss— her cervix. She squeals as a sudden wave of intense pleasure knocks her out. Her vision faded black and he coaxed her, his thrust becoming sloppy before he stilled in her. He doubles over from the climax, whispering praises into her ear. "S'good, I love you so much, honey," was all she could make out.

She thought he was the one who was going to be exhausted but he kept going, his cock continuing to piston inside of her for round two. She was more than okay with it, letting him use her just how he wanted; he deserved it.

By the time he stuffs her brim full with a second orgasm, she is on her back. The cum oozed out of her cunt as he pestered wet-sloppy and open-mouth kisses all over her neck and chest. She was bound to have marks all over her in the morning. "Look at that, baby," he says as he plays with his release around the hole. He was still inside, his finger lapping up the release and stuffing it back into her.

"Fuck, don't do that, or we're doing a round three," y/n squeals. He smiles cheekily at her and stuffs his finger into her again.

His cock and his finger were both inside, stretching her to limits she never thought she would be able to with him. Then he starts thrusting slowly, his vacant hand holding her ankle in the air so he can have maximum access to his favorite toy.

"We need to get those ankle holders like hospitals have so I can fuck you better," he says between grunts. "Or a fuck machine so I can get payback."

At the mention of the machine, she screams, especially because he removes his finger and presses it onto her stomach. "Scream for me again, baby: tell the whole fuckin' neighborhood I'm breeding my little whore again."

And she did, she couldn't take his rough thrust with his hand pushing on her stomach, it made her tighter— sensitive. But she could not bring herself to stop such amazing pleasure.

His stamina never seemed to shock Y/n. It did at first, having to beg her to eat her out. She let him, barely saying no simply because it was a win-win. He would always say "I get pleasure from eating my girl out, I don't need anything else." Which she loved, it almost became a love language for him to do so. While she answer emails for her stay-at-home job—when he was home that is— he would rarely pass an opportunity to either 1: eat her out or two: fuck her while she worked— and trust the universe, he made sure she would take it while working whatever she did on her computer.

He soon got tired of the position and pulled her by her thighs, manhandling her and flipping her back on her stomach. Y/n pushed herself down the bed, her feet touching the ground in front of him. He pushed himself back in, his hands grabbing her hips so he could pull her back onto him repeatedly. His thrust was a little harder, exactly how she wanted right now, making loud pleasured moans to leave her lips— along with many praise for him for how good he made her feel.

She then pushes herself off, causing them both to stand, he gets the hint and pulls her close, grabbing by the throat to choke her. Her vision fades a bit, from the pleasure of his cock hitting her cervix and his slender hand stifling air from her throat. "I love you, honey. 'Missed you at work; 'Could only think of my beautiful girl all alone at home," he says between moans. "My good fucking girl," he growls as he moves her hair from her face just to return to her throat. His thrust never faltered either, his words, and admiration, all pushing her over the edge so hard she went limp. "Did I fuck you too dumb, baby? Awe, my poor baby." He then pushes her face back into the mattress, spreading her cheeks to gain better access to his cock moving into her pussy repeatedly. "Take me so well," he groans, massaging the fatty flesh of her rump.

Y/n was too far into subspace to talk. She could barely even comprehend his dirty words, plus the painful pleasure she had from overstimulation of her recent orgasm was going straight to her head.

He continues to fuck her, eventually picking her back up and carrying her to the bathroom—while fucking her. Her arms wrap around his shoulder lazily, his hands steadily gripping her ass to push her onto his cock repeatedly. He lays her down in the huge circle bathtub, turning the water on and continuing his work to chase his own orgasm. "Baby, fucking love you and your pussy, both of my girls make me so happy," he then doubles over, his face going for her neck, stifled whimpers escaping his mouth traveling from her neck to her ears.

Y/n holds him, her hands rubbing his back as he finishes for the third time inside of her. "I love you too, dear," she whispers. He whimpers causing her to chuckle. "Too sensitive?" She asks, feeling his dick twitch inside of her. He nods into her and she splashes water onto his body. "You wanna take a nap in the bathtub?"

He moves his face to look at her with a dumbfounded expression. "Honey, as much as I love being in your embrace, I don't want to risk you drowning."

[mythicmanuscripts]

ooh, i saw one of your previous asks with jace on the edge of subdrop! could we see something with jace fully dropped and his wife taking care of him? especially with him all soft and sweet and sensitive and teary, i literally can't, what a darling. maybe he's already dropped pretty far by the time you find him for some reason, or it's a gradual thing. just lots of fluffy aftercare and making him feel good to bring him back up! both sfw and nsfw would be fantastic! thank you!!

I love how much we all enjoy torturing Jace. This blog is all about seeing pretty men and making them cry, truly incredible.

NSFW sub!Jace below the cut!

So firstly, I think Jace would end up dropping because he just doesn't want to annoy you too much? After a scene Jace always becomes this needy, twitchy little thing who needs you to hold him close and kiss his head and reassure him that he was good.

The first few proper scenes you do with him go great, and you make sure to give him as much aftercare as you can. After a few weeks of this, you end up having a quickie with him before you have to go to an event of some kind. You don't do anything hectic, and of course Jace was so good for you. You think he's alright afterwards, and so you kiss his head and tell him where you're headed. He seems alright so you go where you're needed.

What you don't realise, however, is that the moment you left the room Jace started spiralling? He thought he was alright, but then you left and suddenly he was all alone and he couldnt leave on you and he's just so scared. He begins to wonder if you've left because he did something wrong, and if you're coming back.

You're back within an hour, but by then Jace has dropped already and when you enter the room you're greeted by Jace hugging your pillow and crying softly to himself. Of course you're quick to comfort him, and even as he's this distressed he's still so pliant and lets you move him however you want. You get him into your arms and just kiss the top of his head, promising him that he did so well and you loved every second.

These words fall on deaf ears though, because by this point he’s far too worked up and upset. You can tell just how upset he is by the fact that he can’t seem to settle, can’t seem to find a position comfortable. He’s constantly squirming and whining and trying to get closer to you, ducking under your hand when you try to make him look at you.

When he does eventually calm down, he’s still all teary and sensitive, and he asks you what he did wrong with tears welling in his eyes again. Even though you try to reassure him that he was perfect, he still doesn’t believe you because in his mind if he was perfect then you wouldn’t have left.

After that you institute a rule that you won’t ever leave him after some thing like that until he tells you that he’s alright. You won’t ask him either, you wait for his word and until he says it, you assume you have to stay at his side and you’ll bring him along to anything you need to get done in the meantime.

Over time I think you’ll learn that he’s recovered or is busy recovering once he starts to speak more? When he’s in subspace and when he’s trying to compose himself again, he’s almost completely nonverbal. He’ll make whines and moans and occasionally whimper your name but full sentences are practically non-existent.

As he starts to recover, he’ll start to compliment you? He snuggles closer and mumbles how pretty you are, how good you take care of him, how much he loves you. It’s like the moment his brain is back online he must immediately go on several tangents about how much he adores you.

You once chuckled at his antics and pulled him closer, kissing his head and asking him why that’s always the first things he says. He smiles back at you and in a soft voice he just says, “I think my heart might burst if I don’t tell you” and well, now you’re the one crying.

[lafleshlumpeater]

Heyy could I maybe request something of Luke Castellan x child of posideon!reader? Maybe like reader was watching Luke train and was like “oh shit thats hot” and is just completely flustered because of their boyfriend and it just gets steamy from there- if you catch my drift. Possibly could reader be gender neutral and afab? And maybe reader has a bit of a thing for choking and Luke finds out? Thats a lot sorry for that lol

ty for the request x

not proofread

Warning: Mentions of weapons, r calls luke daddy towards the end, choking, sub/dom themes- lmk if I missed any

Requests are always open <3

luke castellan masterlist

Luke was training. Normally, this would prove to be entertaining as his training sessions were filled with banter and a lot of laughter (since he swordfought with Percy a lot, and something about watching your boyfriend and brother taunting each other was hilarious) but this time he was focused on violently slashing up dummies. And due to the lack of intimacy you two had suffered from lately since either one of you always had some important task to do, you found this incredibly, incredibly hot.

As you stood there holding his ice- cold water bottle, you shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. How could you not find the view attractive? 

Sweat plastered his platinum blond hair to his head, and small rivulets of sweat lazily trickled down his muscular arms and forehead. He was wearing a thin, white vest which didn’t help matters, as this meant you could clearly see the outline of his abs and pecs. As his hands- oh, his beautiful, beautiful hands, with their long veins and rough skin- drove his sword into the dummies again and again, slaughtering them into shreds, you suddenly felt a lot hotter than you had been ten minutes ago… and it had nothing to do with the outside temperatures.

As the last dummy was sacrificed and sword sheathed again, Luke sauntered his way over to where you were standing somewhat awkwardly.

“Darling,” he greeted, before accepting the water bottle you offered him before chugging at it eagerly, unaware of the impact the nickname had on you. After he was done, he looked at you; taking in the lip biting and the anxious squirming.

“Babe?”, he questioned, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but he was not satisfied.

“Look at me.”

Tilting your chin to him so it was impossible for you to evade eye contact any longer, he took in your mottled pink cheeks and lust- blown eyes. His mouth rounded in a silent ‘oh’, and cupped your chin.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed.

You squirmed even more, his subtle dominating behaviour sending an even more powerful wave of heat to your core. “Don’t.”

He smirked, and whispered into your ear. “Or what, dolly?”

Shuddering, you meekly attempted to push him away.

“Luke.”

You had thought it would come out to sound like a warning, but if anything it was closer to a desperate moan, or even a whine. Although he was playing it cool, it turned Luke on more than anything that the sight of him just training was enough to make you needy for him. It was with this thought that he stopped teasing, and smashed his lips onto yours.

You parted your lips immediately, allowing access for his tongue to slip inside; you moaned, and you thanked all gods that it was muffled by Luke’s hot mouth. You didn’t even try to fight for dominance this time- you had already entered into your subspace due to the multiple nicknames he had addressed you with, and you were too far in to pull yourself out. His lips left yours, and your boyfriend began to trail wet, scraping kisses down your jaw and down your jugular, at which you cursed yourself for allowing a pitiful, whiny sound to leave your mouth.

“Hush, pretty,” he muttered, now smattering quick pecks into the hollow of your collarbone, leaving you gasping. He reached his hand up to your throat, squeezing slightly- not enough to hurt, but enough to cut your oxygen supply off.

You gasped desperately, and were now turned on to the point where you were willing to fuck him there and then, in the arena. You let out a strangled whined, not even trying to disguise it now, and rocked your hips desperately into nothing, conscious of the fact that your panties were now so wet they were ruined beyond the point of return. Just when your head was becoming fuzzier and fuzzier (both from slipping further into your subspace and from the lack of oxygen), Luke stopped his assault at your collarbone and released your throat. 

“Luke, please.”

He gulped, and you looked down to see a raging boner straining against the fabric of his pants. You looked back at him to see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down and his usual icy eyes now dark and stormy.

Grasping you firmly by your neck again, he whispered huskily into your ear:

“Fucking gods, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

You gulped against his hand and let out a small, breathy moan. “Please, daddy.”

He constricted your throat tighter in his grasp, grunting- it was safe to say you were both in for a long night.

thanks so much if you read til the end xx feel free to request any time <3

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

[myfictionaldreams]

All Eyes On You // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: “Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers.

Quote from my other fic titled 'The Fun Game'.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, possessive sex, dom/sub, rough sex, table sex, praise kink, deep throat, throat bulge, creampie, multiple orgasms, sir kink, oral sex, size kink/difference, hints of subspace

Words: 4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“How far away are we Sam?” you asked your bodyguard from the back seat.

“Only a couple more blocks, Boss Lady. Not much longer”, he remained calm to try and counter the anxiety that seemed to be rolling off of you.

“Ok, thank you”. Taking in a deep breath you allowed it to loosen the tense muscles throughout your body for a moment before releasing it out of your nose. The moment's peace only lasted for that, as your stresses went to other areas such as your palms began to sweat as you mentally cursed yourself for not remaining calm.

Adjusting your dress for what felt like the 50th time that evening, you looked out the window, beginning to recognise the area as close to your destination.

You were late—more than late. In fact, it was past the point of being fashionably late and you were beginning to look straight-up rude now, but it hadn’t been entirely your fault.

Ok… this was a slight lie as you had woken up late from a nap, rushing to finish your make-up and get dressed before meeting Sam in the car outside of your home where he laughed at your rushed expression.

“It’s fine sweetheart, we’re only a few minutes late”. This was true until one of the tyres went flat and then there was the traffic which was horrendous.

Of course, you’d called Steve explaining what was happening and he was swift to calm your nerves, “It’s fine beautiful, don’t rush, we aren’t going anywhere. Can’t wait to see you…”. His voice was low as he spoke through the phone, it was the type of tone that had your thighs clenching together and anticipating pumping through your veins.

Today, was your weekly, “fancy date” - as Bucky referred to it. Where the boys wanted to take you out to the beautiful restaurant that Steve had shares in, and knew the owner as well as the chefs. It was famous throughout Brooklyn for its reputation, only the highest of nobility could book a table and even then, it had to be done months in advance. But due to Steve’s connections, every week the exact same table was booked in the centre of the room, underneath the exaggerated crystal chandelier, a pianist in the corner and a scattering of other tables surrounding yours.

But now, you were late for the first time ever, having always been the punctual one in the relationship, it filled you with dread to be late. Not only this but you just wanted to be with them both already because they’d been out from the crack of dawn, attending meetings and phoning manufacturers.

“Here we go”, Sam’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he parked right outside of the restaurant. Your bodyguard and friend promptly exited the car and opened your car door, holding a hand out to help you to also climb out of the car.

“I’ll catch you tomorrow, Boss Lady”, he then announced after opening the front door for you to enter. As you were now with Steve and Bucky, the building was always being scouted by guards and was safe for Sam to go and enjoy his evening off. Giving Sam a quick hug before he left, you finally walked further into the restaurant until you found the waiter at the entrance to the seating area.

“Right, this way Mrs Rogers-Barnes”. Your cheeks warmed at the name.

You weren’t married to either of the boys yet and they loved to tease you with the possibility of this in the future but for now, it was more something they loved to call you to show just who you belonged to, showing their possessive side.

Rubbing your hands anxiously together, you refrained from running across the room to take those few seconds off as you finally caught sight of Steve and Bucky, sitting patiently and waiting in their usual seats. Releasing the breath you hadn’t noticed that you were holding and wiping your palms against your dress, Steve’s eyes soften as he saw you behind the waiter.

“Hey, I’m so so sorry I’m late”, you were quick to rush out as the waiter left the three of you for a moment. Both of your boyfriends stood, placing their drinks on the table as you stared up at them, smiling sheepishly with embarrassment about the situation. But soon, that smile was fading away as you took in their stare.

It was almost predatory, your instincts were to look down at your dress, thinking maybe it had come undone. However, you found that it was all perfectly in place, completely hugging your body perfectly as it had been handmade and purchased as a gift from Bucky. It didn’t even reveal that much, stopping just before your knees so that couldn’t be why they were looking at you like they were able to gobble you up.

Pushing past the submissive instinct to look away from the stare, your eyes flicked up between Steve and Bucky, waiting for them to say anything. They were not rushing to make any moves however as they simply stared at you, taking in every single detail.

This gave you the opportunity to do the same with both men as Bucky wiped the corner of his mouth with his metal thumb, his eyes lingering on your heeled feet. Steve had forgone his jacket that now lay over the back of his chair, leaving him in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone exposing some whisps of chest hair. Both sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, the muscles of his forearms tense and the black harness of his gun holster strapped tightly across his chest, not hiding his guns from the other patrons.

Then there was Bucky, wearing a slim-fitting black shirt that was unbuttoned the same amount as Steve, exposing the chain from his dog tags and a black and white checkered blazer to match his trousers, something you had bought him a few weeks ago for his birthday and your mouth was almost watering taking them both in. They were breathtakingly gorgeous and hulky, spending a lot of their time working out so they could easily beat up people that pissed them off but that came with the job role of being in a mafia gang.

Your body was beginning to react in a different way, core clenching in arousal, legs automatically squeezing together to try and rub against your clit to ease some tension. A move that Steve noticed immediately, the corner of his lip flicking up in a smirk before leaning towards his friend, whispering in his ear which set his friend into motion as you watched Bucky strut past, heading in the direction of the entrance where the waiter stood.

Turning back towards Steve, you jumped slightly as he finally took a step closer to you. Even though you were in heels, your neck had to strain back to look up at his abnormally large height. He and Buck were always the two to tower over everyone around them and it was something that you adored the most.

Steve’s ocean-blue eyes smoothly danced across your face, inspecting every pore almost. It made you feel slightly self-conscious, even if his stare continued to become more intense but you lost your cool, once again submissively glancing towards the floor and admiring the shine in his shoes.

“Don’t I get a kiss or something? Or am I in trouble for being late?” You had attempted to sound like you were joking but it came out as a whispered inquiry. Biting your lip on instinct, you finally found the courage to look up into his handsome face, freshly shaved and he was close enough that his expensive aftershave had your insides warming in a different way.

Before Steve could answer, Bucky returned standing directly behind you, bumping his chest against your back.

The waiter had returned with him and began to clear the table of the glasses, cutlery, napkins and even the candle in the middle until only the white tablecloth was left.

Your heart began pounding in your ears as you watched the waiter closely, only being forced to look away as Steve lifted his hand, finally touching you with a single finger underneath your chin, making you look directly at him.

“Tell me what your safe words are”.

A heavy breath rushed past your lips, fanning across his face, your eyes becoming unfocused slightly. Oh, so this was the kind of night you were having.

“Red, yellow, and green. If I can’t talk, three taps”. Your voice was low as your pussy throbbed, knowing what was coming.

Steve was very much an exhibitionist, loving knowing more than showing off what was his and on many occasions, would simply pull up your dress and fuck you no matter the audience, whether it was in the car with Sam or other gang members, or in the middle of a restaurant, he didn’t care. 

This was also why he paid so much money into this particular business, to pay people off on what they saw. It wasn’t a weekly occurrence that he was fucking you in front of everyone but it was also thrilling, especially with how possessive Steve and Bucky got in moments like this.

Steve nodded briefly at your correct terms. Bucky then shifted even closed behind you, lowering his mouth until it was hovering next to your ear. “Tell me Doll, what name did they use at the door?”

Once again your skin warmed, looking over your shoulder at Bucky, admiring for a moment his fresh buzzed haircut before giving him the answer he wanted. “Mrs Rogers-Barnes”.

Bucky groaned as soon as the words spilt past your lips, he pecked your cheek once and then continued, “That sounds so good coming from your mouth… I want everyone to know who you belong to”.

His stare was intense down at you, eyes continuing to flick down towards your parted lips, watching as you breathed the words, “I’ll always belong to you both”.

Steve then began to run a finger down your soft cheek, making you look at him and away from Bucky, “Yeah? Say it again”.

You made sure to speak slowly, emphasising each word, “I belong to you and Bucky. I am yours”.

Steve’s chest vibrated as he released a deep groan, his trousers tenting at your beautiful voice, eyes darkening slightly in the low light of the room. Your heart was pounding in your chest, absolutely loving seeing them both like this, like you were the only thing they cared about in the world as if they were holding onto a thin thread that once snapped, they’d go absolutely feral on you.

“Damn right you’re ours, and everyone in this goddamn building is going to know about it”, Steve finally growled out. Then he was kissing you, or more, possessing your mouth with his, dominantly, feverishly and breathlessly.

With one hand resting heaving against your hip, the other glided over your jaw, gripping it and tilting so that he was completely in control of the kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth, ready to explore and taste everything that made you, you.

Your chest ached from needing air but you didn’t pull back, needing to feel his body on yours, trying to keep up with the way his lips were moving against yours in a bruising pressure. Both of your hands eagerly gripped onto his shirt, creasing the material but wanting to feel the abs beneath, moaning from the back of your throat as his teeth scraped your bottom lip.

Then Bucky was joining. His hands circled your body to reach for your hand, tugging them away from Steve and behind your back, easily holding the both in one of his larger hands. This gave him the perfect position to grind his hips against yours, his cock now in line with your hands so that you could feel his throbbing cock trapped in his pants, your instinct to squeeze was met with a desperate groan from the man.

Kissing along your exposed shoulder, he muttered, “Dirty girl, do you like feeling how hard you make me?”

With Steve’s tongue still twisting and exploring your mouth, you were unable to answer, instead, you moaned and squeezed him again in response. His noises were spurring you on, wishing to feel more of him, hear most of his desperate sounds of arousal that only caused yours to increase, knowing that you were the reason he felt like this.

Steve finally pulled back enough for you to greedily gasp in the air, his tongue sensually licking your lip one last time before pushing your head back further, giving him the perfect opportunity to lick the entire column of your neck. Your lips tingled from the assault, your eyes had closed on the initial impact and you kept the closed, savouring the warmth and solid bodies you were surrounded by.

“Fuck I want to taste you so bad,”  Steve admitted desperately, returning to hover over your lips.

“Then taste me” you encouraged, wanting this just as badly.

“I will but later, I want- no NEED, to be inside your sweet cunt right now. All day it’s all I’ve thought about, watching my cock pumping in and out of your warm, wet hole”.

All you managed to was mewl in response, in between your legs dampening further as Steve lifted the edges of your dress up to your hips before easing your panties down your legs, helping you to step out of them.

The mafia leader didn’t waste another second before easily manhandling your body, turning you on the spot until you were facing the table, pushing on your shoulders, and bending you over. 

Your skin instantly cooled with now being immediately surrounded by either of your boyfriends and feeling extremely exposed as your dress remained bunched at your hips. Glancing over your shoulders, you admired the way that Steve and Bucky were taking a moment to appreciate your dripping pussy that was on full display for them.

As you watched them, you tried to not let your eyes trail over to the latitude of people also in the room with the three of you. There were the other guests, eating and drinking, as well as the servers, the cooks, the musician and the managers. So many eyes.

But you simply did not care. They would leave if they wanted to but also, you knew that Steve had a special connection with this place, giving hefty payouts and only allowing certain people to book on the days that the three of you were attending. This was all to fuel the addiction of exhibiting you off to everyone, needing people to know that you were only Steve and Buckys.

“So fucking beautiful”, Steve praised, almost drooling at the sight before him. “Open your legs a bit wider for me baby”, he encouraged, knocking his foot against yours.

You opened the stance of your legs so that he could stand between them. Then he unzipped his pants, gasping under his breath as he squeeze his shaft a few times, “Gonna make you mine, make sure that everyone knows that you are mine”. And with his last word, Steve’s tip was slipping through your folds and pushing into your hole. No foreplay, no teasing, just straight into it.

“Oh, fuck”, you gasped as there was a mix between pleasure and pain as you stretched around his cock. He was so big as he kept pushing inch after inch in.

Steve’s hand was on the top of your back, keeping you pushed down against the table that was thankfully screwed to the floor, having made the mistake of fucking so hard on it before that it had skidded across the floor. “You’re taking me so well baby girl, relax for me, just a little bit more”.

Releasing another heavy breath to try and relax the tension throughout your body, your greedy cunt took nearly all of him until his tip was brushing against your cervix. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, to be stretched around him, to feel him throbbing inside of you but you couldn’t muster up the words.

Steve took a second to look down at where your bodies were joined before finally beginning to thrust slowly in and out, attempting to give you time to adjust properly but as you let out a particularly high-pitched mewl, something within him snapped. The mafia leader began to fuck you, animalistically, hips snapping viciously against yours, your hips almost definitely going to have bruises beneath the skin with the way your body was being propelled into the table.

You were in blissful heaven, wanting nothing more than just this, feeling his heavy balls slapping against your clit, your walls clamping around his member as he smacked a quick hand against your arse cheek.

With the enthusiasm of the way you were being fucked, sweat began to form and drip over your body, causing the beautifully styled make-up on your face to melt into the white sheet that you were laying on. Once again though, you didn’t give a single fuck, becoming even louder with your desperate moans, even more so than the piano that was continuing to be planned in the corner of the room. In fact, the restaurant was continuing to run as usual, people still eating and drinking, not risking the wrap of either Steve or Bucky, they could only watch, but this was it.

Steve continued to pound into your cunt, hitting every beautiful spot that had you seeing stars. Bucky then knelt next to your head by the table, watching intently at your face, not that you could see with your eyes closed in pleasure, eyebrows knitted together in concentration and mouth gaped open to not hold back the beautiful sounds you wanted to admit.

The tightening was suddenly overpowering in your core, the release teething on the edge as you smacked your hand on the table. “Steve, Sir, please don’t stop”.

“Cum for me honey”, he encouraged out of breath, his hair sticking to his forehead from the amount of energy he was using. Your thighs clenched as you came hard, screaming out as your cunt fluttered around his cock, muttering Steve’s name repeatedly.

You weren’t even given a second to gather your breaths before Steve was pulling his cock out, once again manhandling your body with his large rough hands, turning you over so that you were now laying on your back across the table. Your head was leaning off of the edge of the table so you raised it up, looking at Steve as he positioned your legs up his body, feet resting against your shoulders.

Then Steve was fucking you again, just as voraciously as before, hands holding onto your thighs to keep them in place and give him something to pull back on with each of his thrusts. You admired the way he looked, tips of his cheeks now tinged with pink, muscles bulging under his holster and shirt, face completely overwhelmed with lust.

An ultra-cool hand was suddenly tilting back your head over the edge of the table so that you were now looking upside down at Bucky’s cock that he’d pulled out of his trousers. Instinctively, your mouth opened, knowing exactly what was coming and what you wanted.

“Gonna make me feel good, Mama?” Bucky asked, his voice husky and thick.

“Yes, please”. Your boyfriend groaned at your polite response, sliding his cock into your mouth. In this position, it was difficult to take control of the blowjob, instead trying to concentrate on sucking on the girthy member, feeling the veins popping and tasting the precum that was already leaking from the tip.

Working in time with Steve, Bucky made was in complete control as he thrust into your mouth, grunting in pleasure as he pushed your throat to the very limit, seeing it bulge before pulling out and allowing you to breathe.

You were dizzy with your head being in this position and the absolute domination of Steve with your cunt, continuing to fuck you hard. The adrenaline was pumping as you had to concentrate on your breathing but the overwhelming pleasure that was being pumped into you was almost blinding and eliminating all rational thoughts from your mind.

Steve was also quick to remind you between thrusts, “You’re ours, only ours!” He became more frantic and you knew he was going to cum, and as his hips suddenly stuttered, he released one of your thighs in the process, your leg flopping to the side giving him more space to rub against your clit.

Steve's hot cum was pumping into you, soaking your walls as you too were pushed over the edge, your convulsing cunt helping to milk Steve’s cock. This only caused your throat to constrict along with the rest of your body and without being warned, his orgasm came as a shock to him as well as Bucky was too spurting cum into your body which you rushed to swallow on instinct.

As he eased out of your mouth, tears had begun to leak out of the corners of your eyes, completing the cock-drunk look that had taken over you. 

“Easy Doll,” Bucky soothed as he helped you to sit up, holding up your body as the blood rushed from your head, Steve’s hands wandered up your thighs as he remained in position but your legs were now hanging off of the edge of the table.

Steve bent down first, kissing your cheek to bring you back to the moment, asking, “Do you want to stay here, or go home?”

“Go home”, was your honest answer.

Steve easily tucked himself back into the restraints of his pants, shouting to the manager, “Kyle, we’ll take our food to go”. Then in a much softer voice to Bucky, “Take her to the car, I’ll join you in a minute.”

As Steve moved away, Bucky replaced where he stood, still holding you up as you swayed slightly from the hard fucking session, you could feel the cum dripping out of you and onto the table and onto your thighs. Still not risking the glance around the room to see if people were staring, your eyes were glued to a button on Bucky’s chest instead.

“You ok, hot mama?”, Bucky asked with a hint of concern etched to his beautiful features, eyebrows raised slightly.

“Yeah���, your voice was only just audibly to him and you made the effort to look up into his eyes, the sight calming as he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. You were feeling a little bit spacey so seeing his emotions so visible on his face, helped to ground you slightly. “I... I don’t think I can walk”.

“That’s ok, I’ve got you honey”, his face physically relaxed as he leaned in to kiss your temple, taking off his jacket to pull around your shoulders whilst also helping to pull your dress back down. Once you were covered, he eased a hand under your knees, a hand on your back to pick you up into his arms. 

You gripped his neck tightly, hiding your face as the two of you left the restaurant, moving towards the car that waited for you three. Bucky helped to ease you into the back of the car, easing the seatbelt across your chest before sliding in next to you.

“Hey Romanoff, just waiting on the boss”,  Bucky greeted his bodyguard Natasha from the driving seat. She nodded her head before turning in her seat to look at you, smirking widely through her dark lashes.

“Hey sugar, have a good meal?” Natasha teased causing you to smile and flush.

“I don’t quite think I’ve had my fill yet”, you joked back, grasping Bucky’s arm for comfort and warmth. The red-haired women’s smirk broadened into a grin before she faced forward. You got on well with Natasha and enjoyed having her around as much as you did Sam.

Leaning your face against Bucky’s arm, you breathed in deeply, savouring in his aftershave, ready to eat and be naked once you all returned home.

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 8: FEMINISATION [MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!max and dom!reader. If you're under 18 or uninterested in this, just scroll right past. If you like what you see, then check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic is part of my kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. I also answer asks about the different concepts and discuss them more on my blog so if this gives you any ideas, feel free to stop by!

(AKA: Max won a third world championship and I think that warrants a new pair of panties)

You've had them picked out for weeks already, the perfect soft pink colour that would make max blush at the sight of them. They're soft and lacy, and there's no way they'll hold his cock without it looking absolutely indecent, which is exactly the point.

It's no secret how much adores getting gifted lingerie and skirts and little babydoll nightgowns. It's not something he allows himself to indulge in too often, but when he does he enters subspace so deep that he's still in it the next morning, still happy and soft in your arms and wanting to wear his pretty clothes a little longer.

If you had it your way, you'd shower max in gifts at every possible opportunity, but he doesnt allow that. He doesn't want you spending too much money on him, and he doesn't like to be given things if he feels he hasn't earned them, even if he so clearly had.

So once it was clear he'd be winning the championship, you went about searching for the perfect scandalous gift for him. You considered a navy blue lingerie set, to match red bull's main colours, but then you thought about how max has always been drawn to the softer, more feminine colours and so decided against it.

Eventually you find exactly what you're looking for: a pair of baby pink lace panties with a cute little bow on the front. They're soft and so feminine and the perfect shade of light pink. You know max will blush so much when he sees them, and that they will become favourites (assuming they don't get ruined the first time round, but you save the link to them in case you need to buy another pair).

You have it wrapped up and waiting in his driver's room. When he sees it, he blushes because he knows it's from you and he knows it'll be something indecent.

He waits until it's just you and him in the room and unboxes them.

"For me?" he asks, like there's any other option. You nod, telling him that he's gonna look so pretty in them and he smiles, asking if you guys can head back to the hotel.

He has to race the next day, so he can't go out partying. But this? He can do this. He can absolutely do this.

You take him back to the hotel room, instructing him to shower and change into his new panties, wearing nothing else. He does as you ask, of course.

Praising him as he walks out makes him blush all the way down his chest, looking down because he can't meet your eyes. You can see how his cock starts to harden at your words.

You treat him softly, because that wrecks max far more than any harsh treatment ever would. He can take spanking without any reaction, but if you praise him and softly stroke his hair he'll break down crying.

You start off by making him kneel for you and just talking to him. He has to kneel there with his arms behind his back and keep his posture while you speak, and you tell him all about how proud you are of him and how lucky you are to have him as your sub.

By the time you're finished speaking, his cock is leaking in his pretty panties and tears are running down his cheeks. You've barely touched him and he's already right where you want him.

Then you sit him across your lap, stroking him through his panties until he's sobbing and begging for relief.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi, I hope you're having a good week!

If you feel up to it, could you a Dick Grayson x Dom M!reader?

I have two options I really like...

1. While Dick Grayson and R(reader) are sparring and due to the Reader being rough with pinning and tackling. Dick gets pushed into sub space.

2. Dick is undercover for a mission, where he has to keep an eye on the target (Reader). He has to make sure the reader dosent leave the nightclub. What Dick didn't expect was the reader starting to flirt with Dick, not only that, but the flirting was actually making Dick flustered.

You can make either of these has less or more sumtty has you see fit ^w^

Dick Grayson x male reader

Headcanons

Is it here I should tell yall I love writing about characters going into subspace, and being cared for when under. Reader is a fellow hero in this.

-          You and Dick have been dating for a while, enough that you have both explored the dom/sub dynamic a few times, at least enough times that it made a connection in Dicks brain, that you are a safe person to enter subspace around and give himself over.

-          It had been a very long and exhausting week, in both day jobs and night jobs for the both of you, and you hadn’t been able to spend much time together except for sleeping in each other’s arms.

-          You could easily tell that Dick was on edge and tense, his entire body wound tight, and he was snippier than usual. He was already frustrated when you both got to one of the league gyms, which you could see in the way he ground his jaw and clenched and unclenched his hands.

-          He was wearing a pair of compressions shorts that stopped just above his knees, a tank top, white socks, a pair of shoes that had seen better days and one of those bands you wrap around your upper arm to hold your phone so you can listen to music.

-          You had been lifting when he entered the gym, his walk tense and hands clenched by his sides. He had his earbuds in, so he didn’t seem to notice you greeting him. He didn’t even stretch before getting to work, going to the pullup bars, and going at it.

 -          You watched him work out for a while, watching how he only seemed to drive himself further up the wall with the annoyed grunts he let out as he lifted himself up further than he needed for a pullup.

-          Placing what you had been using back down on the floor, you brushed off your hands and debated on taking off the gloves you were wearing to lift, but decided to leave them on. You knew Dick loved them, and if that’s what he needed to be taken out of his head then so be it.

-          Sauntering over you gave him enough time to notice you approaching, and normally he would have sensed your presence quickly, but he seemed stuck in his head.

-          So when you wrapped your arm around his tiny waist and help him from doing another pullup, he let out a noise and quickly flipped his head to check who was grabbing him.

-          When he saw it was you he relaxed just a little, releasing a shaky breath as he flicked his head, knocking one of his earbuds out and asking what you wanted. His temper was quite short today it seemed, as he squared his jaw and waited impatiently for your answer.

-          “I think you need to take a break Dick” you tell him. Now, comments like this never worked in making any of your friends or coworker relax, ever. But that was the point, it was to drive Dick up the wall even more so you could make him want to get more physical.

 -          He squared his jaw in a way that truly reminded you of Batman as he snapped that he didn’t need a break, and when he tried to return to his pullups you held him in place, sneaking a hand up under his tank top and pinching his hip.

-          Dick yelped as you pinched him, on instinct kicking out behind him at the flare of feeling, but you were quick to catch his leg and give him a teasing grin when he glared down at you. “Stop” he hissed, and you could tell you almost had him where you wanted him.

-          Quirking a brow, you slid your hand further up his shirt. When your hand reached his pec, his glare became thunderous, and any other time you might have withdrawn and stepped away, but you knew there wasn’t any real heat behind it.

-          Making sure his eyes were locked with yours, and that he was paying attention to what you were doing, you dug your fingers into his nipple and gave it a rough pinch and twist.

-          Dick let out a high choked noise, his thighs clamping together tightly as he tried to force down the moan you knew wanted to escape his mouth.

-          Flicking the now hard nipple once or twice, you withdrew from your partner and stepped back. He was quick to drop down from the bars, turning to you with a glare and slightly flustered cheeks.

-          Giving him another teasing smirk and quirked brow, you made your way towards the sparring mats that were in the room, opening your arms at him as if challenging him.

 -          Dick was so frustrated from the day and hot from your touches that he quickly charged over, not caring one bit that he was supposed to be a serious and well thought vigilante, something in his chest just want to throw you around or test your boundaries.

-          That’s how you two ended up sparring, and on any normal day Dick could probably have overpowered you or you would have been an equal match, but today because Dick was already unsteady on his feet from the past few days, he was having a hard time keeping up.

-          As he was tackled and pinned to the floor, the edges of his consciousness grew slightly fuzzy, the tense and prickly feeling in his chest loosening just a little. He tried his best to stay focused, bucking you off and trying to take you down again.

-          But as you kept pinning him down and tackling him, holding him tightly against the rubber mats and pinning his arms above his head or behind his back, his mind grew foggier and warmer. His muscles grew less tense, even as he staggered to his feet.

-          You could tell he was still trying to fight against the warm fluffy headspace his mind wanted to go to, so when he tried to throw himself at you, you quickly pinned him to the floor.

-          He met the floor with his chest, and before he could do much you had hooked an arm around his throat and tightened it just enough to cut off some of his breathing. The feeling he had tried to fight against just seemed to multiply at your rough touch, his hands coming up and patting at your arm uselessly.

 -          Dick kicked out his legs to try and shake you off, but he was sluggish and slow. You leant in and talked softly to him, praising him, and telling him to just let go, that he had been strong for so long and that you would take care of him, and he was your good boy, he just needed to be reminded of that.

-          Finally, the fight seemed to melt right out of him, his body going limp and his hands softly holding onto your arm as you loosened the chokehold enough for Dick to catch his breath.

-          He whined and moaned softly as he gasped for breath, his mind completely fuzzy and filled with wool. You carefully turned him over, keeping him pressed against you as you made sure he was completely okay.

-          Dicks eyes were unfocused but so soft, his mouth was slightly open as he panted and made quiet noises, his hands coming up to grip softly onto the front of your shirt. You could feel he was hard against your thigh, but that wasn’t that he needed right now.

-          Dick keened when you leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes fluttering shut as you peppered kisses all over his face until your lips met his own. His noises grew louder as he let your tongue plunder his mouth, putting up no fight as you took what you wanted from him.

-          Resting him down against the sparring mats, you slipped your hands up his shirt and started playing with his chest, his noises becoming louder and slurred as he seemed to fall even further into the warmth of subspace.

 -          When you could tell he was completely under you removed your hands from his shirt much to Dicks displeasure, soft whines leaving him as you gathered him in your arms.

-          He didn’t need anything like that tonight, he just needed to be allowed to float away from the stress and pain of your daily lives as heroes and to be taken care of.

-          So, taking one of the hallways with least cameras and that was used very little by others, you brought Dick back to the room you had been given at the league tower. Dick was drifting off against your shoulder, letting out quiet noises every now and then as you walked because your movement made his crotch brush against your stomach.

-          Back in your room you carefully cleaned Dick up with some wet wipes as you couldn’t bring him to the showers at this time, got him dressed in some of your clothes, and crawled into bed with him.

-          You spent the rest of the time watching something on your tv as Dick laid dozing in and out of sleep, his hands still gripping onto your shirt as you ran one of your own hands through his hair.

-          Dick felt like he was melted against your torso, his body growing so heavy as he felt so comfortable here with you, all thoughts of getting off having left his mind the moment you had placed him in your bed and cuddled him.

-          You let Dick spend all the time he needed in subspace, holding, kissing, and praising him quietly until he fell asleep. You knew you’d have to have a conversation about communicating when he needed you to bring him down, since you didn’t want to have to do it through sparring every time, but that could wait for now.

[ikkosu]

HEATED

(prowl.gn.cybertonian.reader)

While rooked into a case he needs to solve, and aside from getting a new partner for, well, reasons — the enforcer is faced with a certain 'predicament' he needs tending.

reader is taller than prowl btw. like, a little bit taller. Or like super tall. I just like the height difference ok. ever since I saw this fanart I just went AWOOGA he's so ndjdjdn his waist damn. I need him submissive. posted this at one am too :D warnings : mild robot gore, and mentions of valve spike. all that stuff.

CHAPTER ONE

UP at the south, Kaon's underground road network hasn't been fairing well these last few solar cyles. The tunnel, swarthed in ink, stretched across from both sides of the labyrinth with each end unseen, fading off into the deep chasm. The only light source now was Swindle's flashlight that lit a soft halo on the ceiling.

The tunnel was extremely obscure under radar. After several Deceptions attempted another revolutionary feat it was then banned of entry. You can barely trace any energon trails entering and leaving the tunnel. Small wonder it was chosen as a hideout — disregarding, of course, the daily patrols now that occured at fixed intervals.

Grimacing, he shifted on his pedes to avoid the murky puddle on his right. The shroud of sulfuric egg, rotten scum and the churn of garbage danced by, and Swindle wouldn't have chosen this place at all if it weren't for the pleasureable sum he's about to be gifted with.

This better be a good deal.

And, on cue, the silhouette of a mech emerged from the shadows, quelling any sense of irritation he had for the late timing. Chastise would be normally an appropriate response. But he figured there'd be no point about huffing now when he's sure this mech's not a force to be reckoned with — and is frame shouldn't be : optics a darkly blue, gold platings a pulsing radiance under the beam of light.

He's a physical embodiment of a shanix-jacked aristocrat. The ones those 'cons' would surely give a good beating to. Him, on the other hand? They're good customers. The best, if any.

"Traffic, eh Senator?" Swindle approaches, servos itching for a good deal. He's already skimming through the many treats he's got under his sleeve.

"Hardly." He grunts with a dismissive wave. "Just some mindless cogs trying to interfere with my work. I ought to establish some policy to prevent them from being this, ugh, trying."

"Believe me, those coppas are as persistent as sparkeaters leechin' off a snuffed mech." He mused.

The mech laughs, a deep rich rumble pricely enough to conjure gold bars. "It's a mystery to know when they'll emerge unannounced."

" Now, onto business. What do we have, here?"

Between them, a barrier, is a table. Producing a rectangular black box from his subspace, the mech sets it down on the surface. Inside, a clink of something can be heard like wind chimes fluttering against the breeze.

"All the crystals from the best of all cities and planets." He said. " Iacon, Vos, Teran, Xaraen — Camien delight, your favorite, is also a plus."

"Ohohoho!" Swindle unlatches the cover and beams at the myriad of vibrant gems. "You can't be giving me these beauties all for nothing, eh? What do I owe you the pleasure of?"

"Oh, nothing grand. I'd just like the usual."

Swindle, for a moment, visibly sags. " Sorry to disappoint but with all the bots cracking down on all of my sources. I don't got too many interesting Intel these days from hiding."

"Oh, no, no,no, no." He waved a servo to stop him." Not the surveillance. I don't need that. I've got enought. What I need, however. Or, rather — my boys on the air has been lacking in some...condiments for their next heist. See to it that they're sufficiently provided."

Now, that's a target he could aim.

"We-ell, why don't'cha just say so?" Swindle grins, interest piqued. "Y'got a benefactor to spare?"

"Quite. He's not very compliant at the moment and I'd rather he is. Could you, perhaps, 'alleviate' that stubbornness of that dear mech?"

Swindle chuckles and does a half-bow, servo on his chassis."Well, my good sir. Anythin' for the customer is a good go. It's in my policy to do so much more than just alleviate his stubbornness." He pinched his foredigit and thumb. Then, rubs it." For a small extra charge, of course."

He throws in several more shanix onto the table.

"I take it you'll be swift?"

"Quick as a turbofox in heat, I assure you."

Ivory white flashes as he grins. "Happy hunting."

THE sun peered between the dark blue clouds of the smothered the sky. Iacon and it's stretching towers loomed above like jagged mountaintops, abstract and austere in all it's glory.

Prowl grips the railings tight. He leant over and rested his helm against the cool metal. Much too cool against the feverish temperature of his helm. Slow and steady he vents, attempting to cool down his heating frame.

The chronometer beeped five thirty. He's outside. Outside in the barely risen morning, disturbed from a barely slept slumber and dragged out to barely risen city straight into a murder scene.

The scenery fleets by in a thin film of blue. Enforcers litter the region, half a mile at most, rousing nearby apartments and living spaces for questioning. Gradually, front porches open. Dawdling mechs and their slow blinking optics, half sleep-induced, are jostled awake at the sight of the officers.

A passing mech was jogging around the vicinity when he supposedly stumbled over a concrete slab. A quick double take proved it wasn't a slab but a dead mech sprawled out on the road, a mini crater indicating the weight of his fall.

And, looking up to the nearby building, where he supposedly fell, a smashed glass on the perfect teeth of windows indicated clear where the incident occured. Obviously, the mech is long gone : grey and parched of color; helm tilted to one side, optics black.

Prowl let's out another breath. It seethed through clenched dentas, hissing out as steam. His servos shook. Footsteps patter behind and Prowl grips it taut to reign it in.

"Sir? Are you—"

"I'm fine." He cuts off the mech. " Who is it?"

The junior officer blinks in surprise, a waver in his voice. "Uh— they, uh. It's someone. They...They claim to be your partner, sir." He trails off, unsure and also surprised at the prospect.

Partner? Prowl skims languidly across the ample litter of mechs bustling about. Only until his optics land on a familiar one, he nods stiffly. "They're with me. You can leave, now."

"Understood."

And not long after did his 'partner' emerged, lifting up the yellow tape, chatting with the passing enforcers amiably before sauntering towards where he stood.

"Not so bustling as I expected to be." You said. " Is it usually this quiet? Or, you could say — dead silent?"

The smaller Praxian had to take several steps back to regard you fully, an unimpressed look on his face. As usual, a loose smile eased at the gesture but you turned away to hide it.

"Enforcer." You bowed and held out a servo.

Instead, he eyes you with a cold reverie, nose raised high and haughty. "Doctor."

"Spoilsport."

And that's what it only took to carve out the familiar, seething scowl. "It's Commander, doctor."

"Actually, it's medic." You mused, optics fleeting over his frame."New paint job?"

"Excuse me?"

Even when he's scowling, the confused puppy look and the flicker of a doorwing alleviated the intimidating factor.

"You look different." You said.

"I don't."

"You kind of do."

"Just—" He rubs his face. "Just what on Cybertron are you trying to insinuate?"

" Come on, now." You nudge him. "Can't a mech compliment a good polished frame?"

Prowl makes an exasperated sound when you gesture to his body. You can't help it when really is shinier than usual. The Ivory veneer plating is practically glowing under the soft rays of the sun. Prowl, however, rubs his face.

"I take it you're aware of your current position?" He eventually says after a moment.

You rubbed your helm thoughtfully, reminiscing the words of Ironhide this morning. All you remember from the debrief was: 'He's a stick down on tha mud'. And also, a stick up his aft? A stick in or stick out? You're not sure.

"Quite." You snort. "Takes a while to get used to it. Especially when Prime didn't inform the reason why. "

"You don't need to know the details behind the transfer."

"Oh, trust me." You said. " I dont think want to, Praxian."

He regards you for a moment before shaking his head, whirling around to inspect the nearby scathes and scratches. Meanwhile, you knelt next to the body and grimaced, sliding on protective gloves. From the corner of your optics, Prowl does as well and he does it with prim and precise movements. It's been a long time since you're out on the fields.

"Why do I have to do this, again?"

Prowl tilts his helm, observing the body at a different angle, the last digit slides inside the sleeve with a plap. "You're experienced with helmichular fracture. Or, working with Cybertronian helms, for that matter."

You scanned the dried energon smeared under the poor mech's helm. Primus, how in Unicron's two aft did he get here? You swivel up. Oh, right. Falling.

"I work with the inner parts. Nothing the same like Chromedome does. That's heinous work. Mine's more on the anatomy, actually."Plating fracture, check. Spinal strut loose and fragile — check. Stiff joints, check. " Couldn't you have figured this out on your own?"

You prod the neck cables, feeling it flaccid. Prowl was silent for a moment. If he was irritated, you could tell by the scowl deepening from the reflection of the puddle beside you.

" I could," he says eventually. "But I don't need your input. I simply.... require a presence to rectify my hypothesis."

Oh? "That's a statement I never thought I'd hear you say." You mutter.

Prowl knelt beside you. He angles himself in a way you would have to look over his shoulder to see the body. The soft scent of datapad and office paperwork wafts by.

"This mech, here, is Strongholt." He said. "He's a member of the High Council. Tasked with handling ammunitions. Obviously, on close inspection it appears as though this body is conformed to the fall."

With the way he worded it, you're sure he doesn't think that way.

"The spinal struts is smashed." You said, optics quick and scaning. "....and everything else is broken. It could be ruled out as suicide but with you here I don't think that's the case."

He lets out a sound you're not sure if it's a conceding one or something else entirely. But he juts out a digit and you look at where he points. Disregarding the scratched plating, some regions of the surface were unusually glossy and some were worn.

"He hasn't gotten his plating polished." Prowl says.

"A bit late for that now, don't you think so?"

"He rushed all the way here in the dead of the night. Why else would he do that?" Prowl rests a servo on his face, mumbling into it thoughtfully. " Senator Stronghold is have said to taken care of his plating with precise delicacy. But this time—" Slowly, he traces a digit along the platings. " —Observe the fringes. It seems indelicate along the seams. His arm is polished but the rest isn't."

"Oookay." You try to grasp the pieces together. Trying to fit in the missing cogs from the machine. "So, he didn't jump. Is that what you're saying?"

"Not suicide."

" Then, what could it be?"

"He brought himself to a place." He muttered. " To somewhere. Unless it's someone and if he complied then it's not a matter of force-handing, is it?"

"I'm assuming things aren't as what they seem to be, apparently."

Prowl taps his thigh in an irritated manner. Either he was talking to himself or to you, it was hard to tell. But with how he disregarded your questions and looks — it was obvious he's cooped up in his thoughts.

"Dragged up there." He continues the muttering to himself. You noticed he's a little restless with the mini-movements he makes. From the rock of his kneeplates and the subtle, but often, flick of his doorwings. " No, down here. He walks. Over there. Then, close to the pole. How many footprints?"

You snapped out of your thoughts with a jolt, scrambling for an answer at the sudden question. Lamely, you said. "Five?"

"No, it's three." He waves at you dismissively. "Foot prints indicate long exposure to standing. Disagreement ensues. Blunt force trauma to the helm. Dragged up—" On cue Prowl swivels up. "Then pushed. Guise of a murder. Two mechs. An accomplice, to be precise."

" A what— Wait— so, hold on." You tug him close, lowering your voice. " He orchestrated his own death?"

Prowl leans away.

"Were you even listening to what I said?" He gives you an incredulous look." If you have so much to lose, would you really do that?"

You groan. He's not helping one bit."You're being real cryptic right now and I'm trying my best."

"No, not orchestrated." He vents. " That'd be ridiculous. But miscalculations did occur during the 'composing' of the Orchestra. He's compliant all but for the money. Both a victim to his faults and thinking."

You turn over his words in your processor. The lingering feeling that this isn't some kind of suicide rules out clear and Prowl had, somehow, figured it beforehand.".... You dont need me here to help you figure out case, don't you?"

He gives you a look that basically confirms it : a smug, but begrudging tug of his lips.

"I need you to confirm a certain theory." He points to the helm. " Blunt force trauma — Zero point."

You move over to the chassis and unlatched the plating. As expected the spark chamber indicated clear signs of restrictive energy flow from the burnt out, damaged ports. This could only occur if—

"He had suffered heavy blunt force trauma." Prowl stands up, gripping the railings with a vent.

" So, this is murder." You follow him, pacing around, a bit reeling from the new turn of events. "Its— it's murder, right?"

" We can't prove it is yet. We..." He trails off, then shake his head. "Tommorow when the warrant comes we'll able to consult his company....and...."

"Prowl, mech. You good?" You turn to the Enforcer who's looking a little off to be well, right now. "Hey, you need a moment?"

Crime scenes aren't the most pleasing sight to behold. Especially, the brutality of it all. You just didn't expect Prowl to be affected this badly.

" I'll—" He clutches his chest, shudders and groans lowly, stumbling forward.

"Prowl!" You caught him before he could hit the ground and instantly limps against your body, venting hard.

His frame was warm. So warm that once you touched his shoulder every moisture on the tip of your digit sizzles into steam. He's shaking and Primus, he's burning!

"You're sick and you didn't tell me?!" You laid him against the railing, loosening his taut platings to let air inside. Steam practically chuffs out from the pistons, smoldering your face with vapor when you unlatched the clips.

"I'm not sick." Was his weak protest and he pawed your servos away, attempting to get up. "The warrant—"

"Don't even try." You push him down. "Your optics are glazed! Plating is burning even worse than a typical fan-clog fever!"

"I'll get through it." He grits out.

"I'm sending you back. Doctor's orders."

He lets out an exasperated sound. " You're stalling the process! I need to solve the case before some overcharged single brained processor messes it up. "

"And you'll smelt into alloy by then, little mech." You clicked on your comm. " I'll deal with the body and I'll deal with the paperwork. You, on the other hand, need ratchet. If you preach for efficiency — then be compliant to it. "

Prowl opens his intake but ozone burns his tongue and another shudder sears through his platings. He turns away from you, groaning lowly. Maybe it's better if he complied because, right now, all he feels, is like a mech doused in gasoline and set on flames.

"Will you be fine?" Ratchet cocks a brow

Prowl grunts, swinging his legs off the medical berth. " I'll manage."

"Sure? Your internal processors are charged up than usual, Prowl." Ratchet grimaces at the datapads. Doesn't look much too good, if he had to be hoenst. " I wouldn't recommend you going about your tasks if you don't want your battle computer burning out out."

Prowl keeps quiet. He can feel the wanton heat pooling in his panel, itching, clawing to be spring free and abuse.

" Prowl?"

He sucks in a breath. "I need to go." And with that he turns on his heel and leaves.

He shouldn't have known it would be today. Especially, when the signs are clear enough these past few weeks : frequent mood swings, strange cravings at strange hours

He could've have pieced it all together and prevented the inevitable — but when he onlined this morning on his berth and felt the familiar trickle of lubricant coating his inner thighs, it was over.

He was too late.

Heat cycles.

Just the worse.

It was easy to know when it's coming just as easy to know it's going to get worse : the numbness on the tip of your digits, restless frame, unfocused and glazed optics. The desire to lodge a hole into every walk you find. All typical sign.

Some frames are more accustomed to such a cycle. Unlike the smaller frames, larger ones are able to disperse heat more efficiently. So, it was a tolerable task to wait it out during work and return home and take care of whatever problem they had with their conjux. Even better, take heat suppressants and the charge, while not entirely taken care of, is reduced.

But given his Praxian frame slim build, demure size and all, the heat isn't so well dispersed and the intake of suppressants just happens to make it worse. His tanks are sensitive to the chemicals; he took it once and it wasn't fun taking turns purging his tank and satisfying himself.

Prowl groans, squeezing his thighs together as the words blur out from his optics. The datapad in his servos dented from his grip and he discards it on the table, landing across with a tack. Blasted report. He keeps reading the same line over and over and his processors won't digest the damn thing.

He leans against the chair and his helm tips back until his optics met the ceiling. An experimental servo glides down his abdomen and he shudders as it clamps on his heated panel. He gives it a little stroke, venting when lubricant smear the seams. A low whine churned from his throat. Prowl flushes, chagrined.

Mhn. Hot. He feels hot. So, hot. So Restless. He needs to purge out this excess energy or driving him insane. He could head out into the sparring range and punt in a few dents jn the testing dummies but he's too restless for that. He needs something and that something has to be inside and pumping his valve until he's all but a writhing mess on the floor.

The panel slides and a throbbing spike springs out. Ivory in color, grey outline, it stands at attention and the tip weeps with transfluid. Prowl slides his digits inside the swollen valve. He groans as he feels his calipers pulsing around his digits, spreading the folds out.

He can't keep going on like this.

On cue, the door opens. Prowl jolts in his seat and swivels up at the intrusion, lodging his digits deeper inside in tandem of his fluster. It was you. You're by the doorway. Stiff and straight to the brim, optics wide. The datapad you were holding drops from your servos just as your jaw had flung open in surprise

[vinestaffery]

On pleasing demand, I am here once more to deliver more angst. Since I love it so much and so does everyone else. some bits are written from medkit's and broker's point of view at the start, but it will slowly shift to yours!! enjoy!!!

cw/tw: character death, signs of potential abuse/neglect(?), mentions of injury from another proceed with caution and care!

Scythe wasn't taking anything okay anymore, and she's gotten rougher around Medkit and Broker.

Broker would struggle handling her tempers at points where he didn't know what to do.

Medkit suggested taking a break for Scythe.

Good grief. It was a bad take and ended up bad for Medkit.

Thrown out because he suggested it, it ended up with him now staying with Sword more than with the other three.

Broker ended up leaving himself and staying with Zuka for a bit before finding a proper area to take shelter in.

Scythe was becoming more... explosive, dangerous

She was taken out of the gang! Matches a few times because she had nearly harmed Boombox to the point of recognition.

"I'm too tired to fight anymore,"

"Broker."

"We can't do anything to help her, look at her!"

"You wouldn't understand how it's like to have someone walk out on you,"

"But it just… I just can't handle it. She's gotten more worse and we are sitting here and watching."

Broker and Medkit would have long talks with eachother at nights

Their worried, really worried

Your not there anymore to help support Scythe anymore

So what's the point?

You were the light in her world, and you walked out on it.

When Vine Staff told you about the serious injury she had gotten from Scythe

You panicked.

Was she actively looking for you?

Was she trying to harm people you loved and cherished?

Vine Staff reassured you it was nothing like that at all

Infact, it was because she was upset that you had disappeared

"Dearie, you know how much Scythe appreciates you, maybe you should try approach her this time?"

You were surprised!! To see her again?

"Are you joking?"

"[…]…"

"There is barely a person in her anymore, Vine Staff."

You were deny any chances of seeing her again, but it wasn't too long till Medkit was invited over.

God was he relieved to see you

It ended up being more of a nicer talk with him rather than a forceful one

Turns out he found it understanding and that it was okay for you to leave for your own sake

But leaving out of nowhere was a no-go, specifically for Scythe

"It wasn't suppose to go this far."

"You know how she is, especially with news such as that,"

When Vine Staff had come home that one day, with a large wound, you really wished it didn't go this far to hurting a companion

"I'm too tired of this,"

"So am I, just like how I am with Subspace's worthless attempts at capturing me and taking out 'revenge,' but we can't have everything we want."

His blunt attitude always felt like home.

"She can't keep doing this, she just can't."

"Then come home, and then maybe this all can end."

You took that hope, even though you were at your wits end.

The rough sound of sizzling coming from the home was pushed over with clashing. The tension in the air was palpable as you made your way back to the source of the conflict.

The smell of burnt food wafted through the air, adding to the chaos of the situation. You knew you had to intervene before things escalated further. As you entered the kitchen, you saw the source of the conflict - a pot left unattended on the stove, billowing smoke.

"Scythe?" You called out, hoping to get their attention before the situation got any worse. The sound of footsteps approaching indicated that they had heard you, giving you a sense of relief that the situation might be resolved before any real damage was done.

"What." Scythe turned to face you, their expression a mix of annoyance and surprise. "I just got distracted; I didn't mean for this to happen," they explained, gesturing towards the smoking pot. You could see the tension in their shoulders ease as you reassured them that everything was under control.

It had looked like she had completely forgotten who you were; did she not find your presence familiar? The sound of her tail-shaker sensed an obvious threat and danger towards you. She spat with venom in her words. Her hostility grew ever more.

"Scythe, it's me," you muttered. But she continued to glare at you, suspicion evident in her eyes. It was clear that something had changed in her demeanor towards you, and you couldn't help but wonder what had caused it.

"What do you want? I thought you wanted to never see me again." Her words cut deep, leaving you feeling bewildered and hurt. The distance between you seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. You looked away in disdain.

"What? You just going to stand 'der like a lost puppy?" There was nothing familiar about this Scythe at all. She was cold—not the kind-hearted woman you used to know before. You realized that the warmth and familiarity you once shared with her had vanished. She was replaced by a sense of hostility and indifference. It was a painful realization that left you feeling lost and alone in her presence. "Scythe? What happened to you?" Your words were hard for her to comprehend. Scythe's eyes hardened, a flicker of recognition passing through them before being replaced by a steely resolve. "I've changed," She said it simply, her voice devoid of emotion. It was clear that the person you once knew was gone, replaced by someone unrecognizable and distant.

"I've changed, and I'm not even sure who I am anymore. Broker left; Medkit left. Everyone left." She placed a cold cup of alcohol down. Taking a deep breath, you tried to find the right words to reach the person who seemed like a stranger now. But as you looked into her eyes, you realized that this was a battle she was fighting alone, and all you could do was stand by and watch.

You sat next to her on the dusty bar stool. Feeling helpless, you silently offered your support, knowing that sometimes all someone needs is a listening ear. The silence between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together. "We've both changed."

"I harmed you; I broke your promise, Angel Eyes. I broke everything." Her tone spoke of long, restless nights. "We can't change the past, but we can move forward together," you whispered softly, reaching out to hold her hand. "I forgive you, and I'm here for you now." The weight of her burdens seemed to lift slightly as she squeezed your hand in return, a glimmer of hope shining in her tear-filled eyes.

"Ya, promise? Angel Eyes?" Scythe gleamed.

"Promise, Scythe. I'll never leave your side," you vowed, feeling a sense of peace settle between you both. The bond of trust and understanding between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together.

But that was only nights ago. Scythe stared at her bloodied blade as she let out somber tears. The weight of her burdens seemed to return, heavier than before; she had killed you. All because you had decided to protect the flower demon that you considered family. Something she wished you considered her.

"Angel Eyes, oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, my angel eyes." Scythe's voice trembled as she whispered your name, regret and sorrow evident in her every word. The bond you once shared is now shattered, leaving only heartache and a painful realization of irreversible consequences.

RUNS AWAAYYYY

[dontronick]

This contains heavy spoilers for the finale of Arcane S2!!!

There are multiple signs that Viktor reciprocates Jayce’s feelings before the confession is ever spoken, and this is shown in the way that Viktor treats Jayce’s evolution differently from anyone else’s, including the main cast.

Jayce is the only person that Viktor interacts with and views to be on the same level as himself, even while working directly with the arcane/hexcore. He is the only person that Viktor does not touch from the front, leaning down to ascend the person, almost implying that they are below himself. Jayce is touched softly from behind, and his head is guided upwards to mimic his own ascension — they are equals in every way. The only other person that Viktor speaks to directly in that subspace is Sky, a lonely existence and one that could be solved if he would wish. Given that he is able to enter that subspace within anyone that he touches and “fixes”, as seen with his time within Vander.

The biggest thing that has been bubbling in my mind since watching the finale at 5 AM this morning was the fact that Viktor’s touch on Jayce’s head looks like a crown, like he not only ascended in being, but that he achieved the highest form of ascension and is the ultimate version of what Viktor was trying to achieve— that Viktor views Jayce as perfect, as royalty.

Viktor didn’t even need to aid in Jayce’s ascent; you quite literally see every other main character being forcibly converted from the previous commune members. He wanted to be the one to provide that for Jayce. Powder isn’t the only one who likes a spectacle.

I went a tad bit crazy collecting screenshots throughout season two to further my point. That the show furthers this idea in its visuals, which are seen below (obviously hidden because of spoilers, text is easier to avoid with a simple warning than images are).

[zombocomme]

Between The Lines, Episode 6: Ritual for Babylon

Enjoy

🛑NSFW: 🔞MDNI🔞: *mentions: Blood/Vampirism, BDSM themes (Master-Familar Dynamic), rough gae sex, restraint, aftercare

"...swear by thy gracious self...God of my idolatry..."

-William Shakespear

🌌���️🧔🪽🍷✨️🦇🫲🙂‍↕️🫱🦇✨️🍷🥀👨🏰🌌

Copia was breathing heavily, straining to push and reach into Jim, who was panting, trying to keep quiet. Jim felt the leather of his lover’s gloves and tried to hide his noises, but god it was just so satisfying, feeling The Cardinal lose his composure over him, groaning in their shared pleasure. The desperate behavior, an intense turn on, as he was being pushed into the corner near the statue of St. Jude, he had ripped off Jim’s robes and flung them onto a nearby pew, leaving him fully exposed, naked, a blank canvas on which to paint his pleasures, an epiphany to carnality, a monument of divine unholy praise. "Satanas," Copia murmured, his hands sliding over that beautiful body. Jim gasped, the scent of their arousal filing his belly with fire...

The two were rushing, aching, trying to hurry before they were discovered, trying to savor the delicate dance that was fast turning into an impassioned display of raw fucking. Copia had Jim’s wrists held up as he thrust his fingers into them, grunting deeply as the ring of their opening squeezed him. He slid the leather clad hand to the hilt, the inside curve of his outstretched thumb slamming into their pleasure as he inserted a third finger, then a fourth. Panting, Jim’s eyes rolled back.

Copia had since discarded his cassock, and beneath his black, rat bitten, pants had been loosened enough to allow his cock to fling through, eager and hungry, drooling slick at being denied. His flowing red poet shirt billowed slightly in the moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains of this forgotten corner of the ministry chapel, like a spectre against the marble, with Jim as his captured prey, clutching at his devotion, the ritual under The Hunter's Moon, sealed by unholy vows and satisfaction of the flesh...

Copia’s cock wanted to enter so badly, each thrust of his hand causing it to jump and tremble in envy and anticipation. It felt like a slingshot was pulling back and forth inside his groin, and each time it pulled back, the urge to shoot forward into his lover as they eagerly accepted him inside, moaning gorgeously into his ears, was making him growl and tremble. "Hold it in." He commanded in between his thrusts, “Don’t Let go, not yet” he urged. He knew Jim could do it, he knew he could get them to the pinnacle of their pleasure and hold them there long enough for the fall to be exquisite.

Jim’s insides were spinning out of control, the pending orgasm being held by a thread as Copia’s thrusts pushed at their seams. Jim’s cries were breathy, the sound escaping from His salivating mouth before he could even think about it, a writhing mess in the subspace. Copia muffled the noises by absorbing their desperate whimpering with kisses hot mouthed and invading. His tongue slipping between, tangling with Jim’s, lolling it inside.

Jim’s nipples tingled at the sensation, heat flushing the extremities and bundles of nerves around the mouth, the cheeks, flooding his throbbing member with pleasure. Everything Copia was doing was fast pushing him to the edge, and it was everything in him to not keep from cumming all over the front of The Cardinal's pants.

Copia was holding himself back, he wanted to bring Jim over the edge himself. He wanted his lover to tremble and cry, just so he could plow through them, tear them apart, leaving them to writhe as he forced them to ride out their pleasure until it might as well kill them, raining hellfire down to the last drop of will and breath, the last stand broken, utterly his to take once and for all. He didn't give a damn at this point who could catch them. The thrill of being caught made him push in harder.

He imagined the crown of his member shoving into them from the inside, the soft flesh pillowing his cock in a warm and wet embrace, and he groaned in his need, his exposed heat weeping pre-cum. God he want to pull his fingers out and fuck them right there, though he knew his restraint would be rewarding. Jim was in a losing battle to hold Himself together for his unholy love. He wanted them to feel glory in the pain he was going to mark with.

Jim rocked into him, his pleasure aching, congesting, and he was running out of breath from the increased panting, mouth beginning to dry as his throat got hoarse. So vulnerable, so exposed, so needing, his hands locked above his head against the wall, losing feeling under Copias vice grip. Back arching back, mouth open as his beautiful neck flexed with frustrated writhing. The pressure was overwhelming. If The Cardinal managed, only once, just right, one perfect combination of touch sound, taste, anything, he knew they would immediately come!

His lover was slamming gloriously into the spot deep inside that sent warmth pluming within, like red dye in roiling water, spreading, clouded with lust and desire for more, ever more.

Copia could feel Jim's body twisting, trying so damn hard not to come, but Jim was about to regardless. It was out of his control, but fuck did that make the beast in The Cardinal go red eyed, feral, wanting to seize and claim, licking his lips with the need to consume.

Copia wanted an end to the insufferable pressure behind his pelvis and the hunger in his soul, the screaming cacophony in his very veins.

He pulled his lover in, flipping them to face the wall, bringing one of their wrists behind their back to lock them into place. Their other hand was trying to dig its fingers into the stone to find any purchase to anchor into, fingertips turning white as they palmed the wall, both pushing and clawing.

Jim felt the side of his face being pressed into the cold stone, condensation building where he breathed. Copia was slamming himself into Jim’s body, fingers twisting inside, rutting his hard exposed cock against Jim’s bare skin so divine. Jim wanted Copia inside him when he came, he wanted to feel Copia, he wanted him to feel their orgasm as it exploded through them, walls fluttering, and they both were so dangerously close, the whirling of their singularity already proceeding into the chain reaction of an earth shattering climax. "God, fuck me!" Jim gasped, imploring for an end to their shared anguish.

Copia dug his fingers into the wrist behind Jim’s back, wrenching the arm enough to shock him in an exquisitely painful jerk. Groaning, it stopped Jim short of the fall enough to snap into his focus as he commanded, “Not yet, Angel,” The Cardinal growled and pulled out his fingers, the slick on the leather making a soft sucking sound. Imminent was the way down, long, deep, and deliciously dark in the pit of the abyss.

"You want me to fuck you Jimmy? You want to fuck a priest? Or do you want to fuck God”

Jim’s reply was babbling desperation, the sobbing and furrowed expression of raw pleasure on his face so beautiful in this moment. Jim’s was his. Jim was always his. Jim would always be his. And He would always take care of “his Jim”.

“I am your god," Copia growled, “And I’m going to Fuck You. You understand? It’s my name I want to hear you sing when I tear you apart!”

Copia lifted one of Jim’s legs, messily shoving against them, drawing a long lowly moan as he was sinking his painfully strained and aching member into his lover’s soft tight flesh, the lift allowing him to angle deeper, sliding his cock to the base, harder and hotter than he had felt it be before; Jim’s soul was begging for a release, crying for absolution.

Copia pistoned in from behind, his breath wet and hot in Jim’s ear, with each unholy thrust throwing them impossibly harder into the wall together, nearly lifting Jim off the floor.

"Your going to come when I fucking tell you to" Copia huffed, feeling the surge coming, the impending doom of the greatest wave he had faced yet. Jim was trying to hold on and wait for his command but the rope holding their will was splitting, slipping through their fingers, their will held by a thread that was unspooling. Copia was unraveling, his movements becoming frantic and wild, his heartbeat flushing him as he was starting to hitch and hold longer onto his breath, desperately tensing himself into a frenzy. His scattered panting started to wheeze as he was fighting to hold himself back. He was Jim’s Master, his god, he was going to fuck them how he wanted. He was going to test them. He was going to savor their sacrifice. He was going to use his magnanimous mercy to plunge them into the cursed darkness, he the one lascivious, was going to mark his claim on their eternal soul. His malediction was going to destroy them deliciously from within.

"I can't! I can't!" Jim sobbed, tears flooding his eyes and beginning to stream through the snot in his nose as the yelps and moans pitched even higher. His pathetic mewling squeezed from his chest as his body and soul were breaking from the held tension, the yearning need to bleed, to spill himself for his beloved, his new god, out of control. The imaginations of his desires to gush and arterially spray the walls with his every life essence, to draw from his body the milk of possession, the honey of earthly delight. Copia dropped the seized wrist and snaked a hand to Jim’s throat, squeezing as his tongue slid up his pulse point, whispering in the voices of the dark and infernal, “Sing for me little dove”

That was the limit.

Within milliseconds of the toppling, Copia whispered, "Come for me, amore".

Jim’s flood gates blew open, the great drop rocketed down, and he gushed his cum onto the wall, arching back, nearly falling onto Copia who suddenly peeled Jim back from the wall, wrapping his arms around Jim’s waist and chest, his muscles straining in the crazed desire to mesh their bodies, Jim’s insides swallowing his cock deeper, pulsing.

Jim’s hands reached back, trying to hold his head from behind to ride out the blooming sensation of his sex careening through their body like a crescendo orchestrated for his soul, feeling the fangs penetrate him at last. The Cardinal was Jim’s master, conducting the roiling wave to break exactly how he wanted. Exactly how Jim, his little dove,needed, frothing and swirling into the tide pools with a violent crash in places even he had not known, as Copia drained the blood from Jim’s body, suckling deeply as if starved, whimpering and moaning into his neck, jerking Jim off as he rutted into him mercilessly.

They could feel it, the cycling energy of Jim feeding Copia, as their backwards embrace enveloped him, to complete the circle.

Copia felt the transference of his Dark Gift, the energy leaving him as he pushed harder and deeper into Jim’s body, his fangs sinking even deeper, ravish-me-red blood spilling like wine from a cup. An Unholy Eucharist of his divine love, and his sinful desires worshiping his beloved angel.

Jim’s heartbeat was punching against the skin, pushing into the dangerous mouth of the beast, almost wailing in the agony of his lustful desire devouring him whole; every hair on his body on end as the rippling feeling kept crashing with every pulse, every gathered pull from his neck, flecks of blood painting the wall in red.

As Copia’s feeding and Jim’s orgasm started to slow from the exchange reaching towards an equilibrium, selfish desire took over; Copia pushed jim forward into the wall, smearing the fluids on his body and swiftly knelt down, burying his face into his lover’s sex, covering his face in their dripping juices, shoving his tongue in and around, sucking deeply as he moaned, consuming them.

Jim cried out in the sweet agony of overstimulation, the shifting position targeting his weakness, rushing into the forgotten corners of his body and soul as if the action had been meant to penetrate him inside and out. As Copia felt Jim's body respond so beautifully, he fast was stroking himself, fingers passing over his nearly purple cock-head, swollen in his corpulent greed, and at last it burst.

Copia came, splattering his spend on the wall by Jim’s ankles, as he groaned into theflesh, the humming sensation vibrating against his face, unable to stop his consumption.

Jim was going limp as he uncontrollably shook, coming again, and again, whimpering weakly in ecstacy, his voice echoing across the marble halls, the sound bouncing back into their ears like a choir, the added song heightening their pleasure; to hear themselves cry out for absolution, to hear Copia slurping between his legs, to feel the bruises and torn flesh on Jim’s neck throbbing with each pulse that mirrored below his waist, pushing more and more cum out, squeezing, as Copia milked every last drop.

One hand was on his cock, the other on his balls, squeezing and pumping, trying to drain and pull every last bit of pleasure from it, nearly screaming. He could push himself into the void too.

Covered in the hot thick, his legs buckling into the ground, Jim’s shaking body fell back, and he came again, Copia guzzling on his juices, both of them collapsing into the hot puddles pouring onto the cold marble floor.

Jim was holding himself by the crotch trying to push and quiet the bursting feeling between his trembling legs. God it felt like he was trying to block a fountain with the palm of their hand, the ropes finally dying down and stopping, his blood on the floor slowing and growing dark, his vision hazy, his mind fading into the abysmal space, floating languidly like a slow bubble rising to the surface of the water, for several long minutes, with only the sounds of their breathing and the slow drip of blood echoing in the forgotten chapple, the scene beheld by that marble white figure of St. Jude…

Jim felt his body being lifted and the sensation of being carried with the world passing him by.Time seemed to both still and go on, and the disorienting feeling muffled beneath the warmth of Copias body against his own. He caught the familiar scent of Copia’s bed, the touch of a warm damp cloth cleaning him with tenderness and gentleness, the press of Copias lips on every inch of his skin, every kiss reverent, every touch, holy.. Jim belonged to Copia. In being bound, Jim had never felt so free. He would never walk alone. His Master was there. They were one together, and as Copia’s Familiar, Jim would be one with him eternally…

Copia at last pulled the covers over them, tucking them into a nest of warmth and love, pure in its every form, and pressed a chaste kiss to Jims head, lips brushing the warm skin as he whispered the last of the words to his heart’s prayer, “Il mio angelo” he whispered softly. Copia tenderly pulled “his Jim” into his arms, bare fingers carding through Jims dark curls, legs tangling, their bond sealed, nuzzling one another, skin to skin...

Some time later, drowsy and sated, Jim came to briefly, a soft crooked smile playing on his lips as his eyes barely peaked open to gaze upon Copia’s face. Copia nuzzled “his Jim” unable to help himself. Jim looked so beautiful, so adorable this way, so soft and trusting, unguarded, vulnerable and all his. Jim’s sacrifice was a blessing he would never take for granted.

“You are awake, amore?” Copia cooed softly.

Jim’s eyes fluttered closed again as he tucked away into the crook of his Master’s neck, humming contentedly.

Copia chuckled, “How do you feel darling”.

Jim murmured back, “Sleepy.”

“Mmmhm, “Copia smiled knowingly, “The gift is changing you. Rest with me, my love. Take a nice long rest with me. I will be here when you wake, the whole time I will hold you close.”

“That could take a minute” Jim chuckled as his mind was fading to sleep, his pliant body settling against Copia for the night.

Copia smiled, “I’ll hold you for the minute it takes…”

[gabessquishytum]

There have been a lot of asks about sub hob instantly being able to go into sub space for dream and I love and cherish them all.

But maybe it doesn’t come so easy. After a long life hob has had very few doms who are able to get him to submit. It used to be so much easier. But at this point he’s been immortal so long and so used to losing people that it’s harder to access that space. Plus in the 1990s he didn’t exactly take good care of himself. In the flood of drugs and heartbreak he got into some less than good situations with less than good doms. And he naturally has some trust issues with dream. and it’s all culminated in him basically being on high alert all the time.

When dream comes back in 2022, they enter a relationship pretty quick. Hob is genuinely so happy to be with dream and he is so excited to submit. Dream is the perfect dom, and in hob’s head it is going to be perfect—in his fantasies Dream sends hob right into sub space and it’s like they were made for each other.

hob is so excited to finally get dommed the way he needs. He’s wearing some gifts from dream, like a special ruby plug that fills him up just right and he wants so badly to kneel.

But the first time they do a scene, no matter what, hob can’t let go. He can’t enter subspace.

Hob is so upset because he feels like he failed dream.

But Dream just takes him in his arms, holds him and reassures him that he is there for the long haul. He tells hob he is perfect, exactly what Dream wants. Dream says he’s honored to be hob’s dom and he can wait and work with hob until hob is ready.

I actually really love this concept. I can totally see that this would be hard for Hob! He's dealing with a lot of feelings, anxieties and a lot of past experiences that haunt him. As much as he wants submission, he can't necessarily just do it - that's not how it works.

But Dream is so good to him. He takes a moment to remind Hob that dominance and submission isn't all about sex and power. It's also about love and developing trust. So that means little things, as well as big ones. Talking about feelings (Dream’s least favourite thing, but he'll do it. For Hob.), creating an environment which is going to help Hob go into subspace, doing very thorough aftercare, journally stuff that comes up outside of a "session". Somewhere along the line, Hob is going to realise that he doesn't need to be the best sub in the entire world. He just needs to be embody what he really feels when he's with Dream.

Despite all of the stuff he's got going on inside, Dream is basically just a very good dom, and that's very helpful to Hob (who's probably never had a real dom who understood the dynamic beyond wanting to make another person hurt). And really, Dream doesn't mind if Hob never reaches subspace. He's happy to dominate him lovingly and coax him into kneeling and submitting without entering the headspace.

But Hob is going to do it. One day, he'll slip so easily under Dream’s hands and voice, and it will be everything he's wanted and imagined. It's going to take work, but in a way Hob is grateful. He's never felt closer to Dream than when they're working on this together. And above all else, he finally feels safe.

[goddess-of-green]

NSFW Ravio Headcanons

(Request:) Since you were recently talking about Ravio how about Ravio nsfw headcanons? 🤭

(A/N:) YES. Idk who you are anon but i love you. bring it in

Contains: No explicit reader, a gender neutral "partner" is occasionally referenced, ALBW spoilers, Ravio being mostly subby, brief mention of pegging, not explicitly lu ravio but could be interpreted as such

Word Count: 708

♥ Ravio is not…experienced 

♥ He spent a majority of his life simply as a royal servant, before the events of Yuga and Ganon, so not much time for romantic endeavors 

♥ Ravio is also a bit…shy. While he can be witty and sly, he lacks the courage needed for a romantic “leap of faith,” so to speak. He’s the type to let a love interest get away and wonder what could’ve been…

♥ Though when he does have a partner, he’s a fast enough learner. He just needs to get over his initial anxiousness (and insecurity) 

♥ He’ll learn what he dislikes fairly quickly, and what he loves (like having his ears nibbled on)

♥ He really could go both ways as far as being submissive or dominant, but it takes a lot more prompting to get him into a dominant position than a submissive one

♥ If his partner is exceedingly submissive he'll fall into the role more naturally, showing off his teasing and playful side (Or if he's excessively taunted, he may snap back)

♥ He leans more into submissiveness though, and will slip into subspace very easily

♥ He's very vocal about it too, whimpering and twitching when it feels especially good

♥ If he's feeling teasing he may put up a bit of a fight, but usually with the intent to give in in the end, he just wants to taunt his partner and push them to dominate him more

♥ But once they do, oh, he's gone

♥ Pupils blown, mouth open, and ears folded back as he just lays there and takes it, happily along for the ride

♥ He'll hum mindlessly in compliance to any commands, but once he's in subspace that's where he will stay for the duration of the session

♥ In which case he needs aftercare. Even if the sex was relatively gentle or vanilla, once he reaches a certain point mentally he will be exhausted and vulnerable

♥ He needs to be kissed, loved on, and praised while he comes back down to Earth

♥ He wouldn't hold it against his partner if they didn't do any of that (poor bunny probably doesn't even know what aftercare is) but it will boost his mental state a lot to receive that kind of attention afterwards

♥ As the cowardly counterpart to the Hylian hero, who couldn't take up the sword like Link could, he does have some major underlying insecurities

♥ And whether he would admit it or not, Ravio loves to be in the spotlight and receiving attention

♥ Even just small things like hugging him and giving him a little kiss after sex will start to build up overtime if neglected, and they will fuel his insecurities

♥ When he lets himself enter subspace, he is essentially making himself completely vulnerable and pliant to his partner, so it's important that they're receptive of that trust he's showing them

♥ (Especially given that he grew up in a dog-eat-dog world, where trusting no one was essential to one's survival)

♥ Sorry I'll never stop flanderizing characters with an animal/creature association but. I do like to think he has some unintentional bunny-like traits (aside from being skittish) 

♥ Ever heard the phrase “fucking like rabbits?” Yeah…

♥ Ravio has a surprisingly high sex drive, and he'd be unapologetically all over his partner 

♥ He’s used to repressing such urges, not having much romantic or sexual experience at all, so once he finally does have a partner, the floodgates have been opened 

♥ He is not above making a show of himself and trying to tempt his partner into jumping his bones (the attention whore) 

♥ He’ll drape himself across them innocently, and repeatedly slip out double-entendres 

♥ If that doesn’t work, he’s not above flat-out whining for some attention from his partner 

♥ He just needs to be folded up every once in a while, you know? 

♥ In the event that it was properly introduced to him, he’d be absolutely crazy for pegging- 

♥ All in all, Ravio is not hard to please, but he needs lots of attention from his partner 

♥ And as long as he gets it, he’ll be more than happy

[cissyenthusiast010155]

For the sub!Larissa prompt thingy: Larissa x fem!reader. Larissa just being absolutely stressed , and the reader just like gentle domming her into subspace so she can relax. Something like having her kneel at the readers feet (on a pillow ofc don't hurt the kneeeeess) while the reader sits and reads a book or smth. Or the reader taking her hair down and massaging her scalp until she's putty. (Bonus points if reader is short. Like 5ft tall type short)

Can be nsfw or not whichever is fine. My bb just needs a break 💜 thanks!!!

Heyyy @shaepeacockart !! Thanks for the request, I would be honored to write this 😁

Let Me Take Care of You ~sub!Larissa Weems xFem teacher!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, lots of fluff, bit of angst, smut, eating out, implied smut, etc.

A blurb

Enjoy (:

Since Larissa’s near death experience and her having to build Nevermore back, she had been insanely stressed.

I mean hell, she barely had anytime to process her own death…

You made your way to Larissa’s office, not having seen her at lunch.

You entered without knocking, to find her hunched over her desk working like always.

You sighed.

“Y’know, your going to kill yourself from overworking…” you said with a playful yet concerned tone.

But Larissa apparently wasn’t in the mood.

“Please not right now, love, I have too much to get done.”

You made your way over to her desk.

“Get up.”

Catching Larissa off guard, she looked up at you, “Sorry?”

You sighed, “Come on. Up.”

She silently followed.

“Good… Come over here.” you indicated Larissa to come over by the fireplace.

You sat down on one of the chairs.

Larissa looked like a lost puppy. It was breaking your heart to see her like this…

She began to sit on the other chair opposite you, but you tutted her off.

“No no, love. Right here…” you guided her to kneel in between your legs, where you had brought a pillow for her comfort.

Larissa whined, “Love, I have work…”

“Oh hush and sit.” you directed her.

She knelt in front of you, relaxing her body into your touch.

You began to take out the Bobby pins in Larissa’s hair, caressing her scalp through each removal.

Larissa was now snuggling into your lap, by the fireplace, as you massaged her loosened hair and scalp.

She hummed in delight.

“See… sometimes you just need to take care of yourself… or have someone take care of you…” you purred, relaxing into the chair and her touch.

Larissa looked up at you in response, “But who will then take care of you?”

It was such a kind, almost guilt filled comment…

“Why… you can my love… be a good girl and eat mommy out, hmmmm? Maybe afterwards, I’ll let you sit on my face…” you purred, your voice turning more lustful.

“Hmm, yes mommy…” Larissa hummed, as she lifted herself a bit.

She rolled up your skirt and spread your legs, licking her lips at the sight of your aching core.

You rolled your head back, keeping hold on Larissa’s luscious locks as she licked through your folds.

“Hmm… that’s it… such a good girl…” you moaned.

Larissa got you to the edge quite quickly with that skilled tongue of hers, making you moan many praises to her.

After she helped you down from your high, Larissa resumed her previous position, snuggling into your lap yet again.

“Such a good girl…” you hummed, “I love you so much, you know that right?”

“I love you too…” Larissa hummed, before drifting into a light, stress free slumber, making your heart swell with happiness that she had finally found some peace.

You tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her ear and caringly whispered, “When you wake up, it’s your turn…”