#wlw ao3

[g0lightly]

(image credits)

the hounds of harrenhal is a slow-burn brienne x sansa romance within a whimsical adventure with a good mix of found family + re-found blood family fluff. don’t get it twisted, this is still pretty plot heavy. since this is a rather expansive work, there are plenty of other eventual pairings such as gendry/arya and jon/satin (i hc jon snow as the most clueless bisexual to ever live and i love him) in addition to some surprises for later.

can you spot the jenny of oldstones and prince duncan of dragonflies reference(s) in the collage? in addition to rhyming with past asoiaf-verse love stories (dunk x rohanne, jenny x duncan, elissa farman x queen rhaena, lyanna x rhaegar), THOH draws on the persephone/hades abduction myth to subvert both the hound's offer to escape with sansa during the blackwater and littlefinger's "rescue" of sansa from king's landing.

for the purposes of the fic (curse you, abandoned five year gap), sansa's been aged up to robb's twin and two years have passed in-universe.

brienne becomes the newest wearer of the hound's helm after lem when jaime sacrifices himself to lady stoneheart following an escape plan gone very wrong. as the hound, brienne enters a tourney at the eyrie as a mystery knight to win some much needed coin to help the brotherhood without banners through winter. there, lady alayne arryn begs for help escaping a doomed marriage; brienne temporarily sets aside jaime's honor-saving mission for sansa to help her. petyr baelish announces that the hound has abducted sansa stark from the eyrie and advertises a large reward for her safe return. meanwhile, tyrion is trying to use his previous marriage to sansa to claim the vale for the mountain clans and daenerys. sansa hides out in the riverlands’ magical hollow hill with brienne and the brotherhood, falling in love as tensions within the realm build up to a second dance of the dragons amid a years-long winter. when love is the death of duty, what happens when your duty is to the one you love? this work will ultimately take place over the course of several years, weaving in new allies and foes for our star-crossed lovers as the realm moves from crisis to crisis. for generations to come, all of westeros will sing of harrenhal’s hounds and its witch queen. but life is not a song; in this story, it is far sweeter.

meta thoughts below the cut on why a future briensa is objectively one of the best ASOIAF ships in terms of thematic potential.

briensa has the best elements of the far more popular s*ns*n and br*ime ships except they're both teenagers and, crucially, brienne has never held sansa at knifepoint 🩵 no shade to either ship though bc the themes those relationships explore have sent brienne and sansa on journeys that have made them kind of perfect for each other; ie, the subversion of brienne being a protector to sansa rather than a threat is especially relevant if brienne is the next hound after lem!!! alexa play god bless the broken road

brienne is the hero sansa prayed for!!! sansa has learned to put more trust in disfigured people than "beautiful" people which means she can see brienne's beauty in a way she cannot!!! thematically it would be well supported yet subversive for sansa’s true knight and true love to be a jonquil darke type rather than a florian type 🥹 thematically i think the surest route to true love for sansa is a naerys + aemon situation so why not make it like alysanne and jonquil if they ✂️? it's not my fault grrm accidentally (?) wrote sansa as a closeted femme4butch!!!!

[kngrose]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...

imagine a situationship with sevika

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.

But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.

But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.

He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.

And then there was her.

It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.

You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.

You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.

How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.

She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”

Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”

But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.

She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.

The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.

And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 

“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.

You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.

The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.

You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.

The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.

And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.

There’s no turning back now.  

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taglist: @opropheticsoul

[curiositysavesthecat]

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[drabsyo]

me? shipping another rare pair wlw in a fandom i'm 16 yrs late to? just another tuesday

[ciggrtte]

pov: cannot control the sexual tension

[macaulaytwins]

“my pussy has taken me places I wouldn’t go with a gun”

the places in question:

[kulai]

DAY 1: First Kiss for Wenclairtober :3

check this out on twt ! this is based on ch12 (i think?) of "The Dead and the Dancing" on ao3. A HEAVY recommended for sure

[hibiscus02]

Was I the only one really surprised by the shockingly low amount of Glinda x Elphaba fanfic on AO3?

Like. Wicked is an old fandom. And a large community too, I mean it's pretty well-known as far as musicals go. Gelphie has always been a popular ship, but there's only 833 works with their tag somehow?

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm used to wlw ship fics being very scarce on AO3, and I've been in fandoms where there's only like, 5 works about a pair, if any! But I'm in also in some much, much newer fandoms that have an insane amount of wlw fanfic despite not having been around for two decades like Wicked has. I mean, caitvi has 8,808 works tagged, villaneve has 3,949, wenclair has 7,162, you get the picture.

I don't have a point to make here tbh, it's just very puzzling to me? Like, are all the gelphie fics hiding on some other site or something? Because if so do let me know, I am starving.

[llxferim]

“My name’s not God, Sweetheart”

a/n: YALL 145 NOTES ON MY LAST FIC IS CRAZYY THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, THIS GIVES ME SO MUCH MOTIVATION AGHH. also i meant to post this yesterday but i forgot…

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (pls request smth😔)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You came back from yet another mission from Fury, who has been pushing you a little over the edge lately, barely giving you any time to catch a breath and heal up, this time you got seriously injured. your girlfriend— who’s on a mission overboard was supposed come back in a few days, but she decided to come home early as a surprise.

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, no yn used, nat is a bit of a tease, established relationship, thigh riding, eventual smut, smut with little plot. teasing, receiving oral (reader). fem!reader, flirting, injured reader, fluff, little angst, cuts;bruises mentioned, not proofread

Word count: 1.6 k

You sat on the cold concrete, your back against the remains of a shattered structure. Normally, you took pride in completing your missions without collateral damage, but the exhaustion was too much for today, leaving you indifferent to the wreckage around you.

Every part of you ached, and standing felt like an impossible task. Fury had been relentless with the assignments lately, barely allowing you a moment to catch your breath and heal. When you tried to bring it up with him, he simply shrugged you off. “If you can’t handle it, maybe you don’t belong here.”

His words struck deep. You had given everything to prove yourself to him, and now that dedication felt like a burden rather than a badge of honor.

His words struck deep. You had given everything to prove yourself to him, and now that dedication felt like a burden rather than a badge of honor.

You usually took on the missions with your girlfriend, Natasha. But this time, she was overseas, deep undercover, and due to return in a few days. All you wanted was to clean up and heal your bruises before she came back, so she wouldn’t have to worry about you.

Her absence left a hollow ache in your chest, and you longed for the comfort of her presence as you finally stood up with a grunt. Walking back home didn’t sound good but you didn’t really have another choice, so you suck it up and push through the pain.

After a long walk, you finally reach home and lean against the elevator frame, waiting for the doors to open. When they do, you stumble inside and press the button for the 8th floor, sinking to the ground and closing your eyes for a moment.

Just as the elevator stopped, you heard a familiar voice. “Love? What are you doing down there? Are you okay?” You opened your eyes to find Wanda crouched in front of you, concern etched across her face.

“Nat? What are you doing here? I thought you were coming back in a few days,” you asked, surprised.

“Surprise,” she replied, though her worried expression lingered.

“Let’s get you up. Come on,” she said, sliding your arm around her shoulder for support. You winced at the movement but leaned into her, grateful for her presence.

“what happened?” she asks as she opens the front door, and closes it with a flick of her hand as soon as you both walk in.

“Nothing, I just came back from a mission” you grunt out as she helps you sit down on your bed.

Natasha's eyes scan over your battered form, her brow furrowing with concern. "Just a mission? You look like you've been through a war." Her hands gently cup your face, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. "Tell me what happened."

You sigh, the weight of your exhaustion pressing down on you. "Fury's been... relentless lately. I've barely had time to breathe between assignments."

Natasha's expression darkens. "He's pushing you too hard. This isn't right."

As she helps you remove your gear, you wince at every movement. Natasha notices and her concern deepens. "You're hurt. Let me help."

“I’m fine, I just need to lay down.” you refuse, not wanting her to see the rest of your body.

“c’mon, darling, you know I can’t leave you like this” she cups your face, “let me help. I’ll bandage the wounds at least.” she tugged your shirt upwards, you didn’t have the energy left to argue so you just raise your arms as she gently takes off your shirt.

“This is what you call ‘nothing’?” Her voice is soft but tinged with anger.

“You’re taking the week off. I’ll have a word with Fury myself,” she says, her jaw set. She grabs a first aid kit and kneels in front of you, her movements steady and careful as she begins cleaning your wounds, her expression hurting you more than any other wound. Seeing her worried— for you, just didn’t feel right.

“Nat, I’m fine. I just need a day’s rest,” you try to reassure her, but the worry etched on her face doesn’t ease. She pauses, then rests her head on your lap, her arms wrapped around your waist. “I hate seeing you hurt,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Despite the pain, you gently place a hand on her head, brushing your fingers through her soft, scarlet hair. “I’ll be okay, really,” you murmur, lifting her face to meet your gaze before pressing a light kiss to her lips. The effort sends a wave of pain through you, and you wince.

“Don’t move,” she says quickly, regaining her composure as she resumes bandaging you with even greater care. When she’s done, she helps you into bed, then disappears into the kitchen, returning with a pill and a glass of water.

“Here, this should help.” She hands you a painkiller, her expression softened.

"Thank you, love," you say, swallowing the pill with a grateful smile. She leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. She lays down next to you, her movements still careful, afraid of causing you pain. "I don't feel like sleeping," you murmur, turning to face her as she plants soft kisses on your hand.

"Would you like me to cook something for you?" she offers, her green eyes brimming with concern and love—all for you. You can't help but wonder how someone as perfect as she is could have chosen you. She notices you drifting off to your thoughts and gives you a quick peck to bring you back, But instead of letting her pull away, you slip a hand to the back of her neck and deepen the kiss, savoring the warmth and connection you’ve missed so much.

"In the mood, are we?" she teases, her voice low and amused, a playful spark lighting up her face.

"Maybe," you reply with a smirk. "I mean, my girlfriend has been gone for a month." You try to play it off, ignoring the dull ache that’s settled into your muscles.

She chuckles, tracing a finger down your cheek before resting her hand gently on your shoulder. “I'm sure we can make up for lost time," she says, laughter dancing in her tone, "but not today.”

"Why not?" You blink, half confused, half pouting, as she quirks an eyebrow.

"Do I need to remind you that just half an hour ago, you could barely walk from the pain?" she says, her eyebrow raised in playful challenge. in response you get on top of her, holding back a grunt from the pain. you look her in the eyes, as you cup her face in your hands, “you’re making it really hard to refuse you right now” she whispers, “that’s the plan” you whisper back in her ear, before kissing her, again.

She kisses you back but notices the little flinch of pain. “lay back down” she says through the kiss, and you obey. “The pain gets even a little worse, you tell me. okay?” she pulls away, to look at you. You hum in response, grabbing her face and pulling her back down for the kiss, feeling impatient. you feel her knee in between your legs, causing you to groan into the kiss.

“up” was all she needed to say before you sat up, the pleasure of the moment covering any pain you felt. she leaned on the bed frame, placing you on top of her thigh as she pulled you back into the kiss. the heat between your legs was increasing yearning for more, causing you to grind on her thigh.

she takes off your shirt, softly so as to not hurt you, landing wet kisses across your body, on your bruises, cuts, and scars.

you speed up, riding her thigh while resting your head on her shoulder out of exhaustion. Nat traces your nipples with her fingers, bringing her mouth down. brushing soft kisses, before roughly sucking them off, causing you to make sounds that are sinful to listen to.

You desperately start speeding up, “Nat” You moan breathlessly, voice coiled at your throat and your hands on her hair. She looks up at you, suddenly stopping and softly turning you and laying you down on the bed, as she travelled down your stomach. your legs parted— for her, as she took off your pants along with your panties.

“You’re so beautiful” she pants, before landing wet kisses on your pussy, tauntingly. making you flinch. “Please” You raise your hips in an attempt to get what you’re yearning for but she quickly guides them back down. “Patience, Darling.”.

She spreads your lips, licking the wetness, making you flinch, before slowly entering her tongue in your cunt. you whimper out in pleasure, but she barely gives you any time before speeding up, causing you to clutch whatever you can. you bring your hands down on her hair, tugging her deeper and deeper, as you cry out in satisfaction.

“God…it feels good” you whine out in pleasure before your insides clench around her tongue, finally giving you the sweet release. she rises, licking her lips “My name’s not god, Sweetheart.”

As Natasha wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you close, her warm breath tickles your ear as she asks, “What are you thinking about?”

You smile, recalling a cozy evening from not long ago. “Just thinking of those cookies you made last month,” you murmur, turning your head to meet her gaze with a playful glint in your eye.

She raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh? You liked them that much?”

“Maybe…” you tease, nudging her gently. Her smirk widens, and she lets out a soft chuckle. “Well, if it’s cookies you want…”

With a gentle kiss, she pulls away, her hand brushing down your arm before she stands up. “Consider it done,” she says, her voice laced with determination. As she pads toward the kitchen, A smile tugs at your lips as you watch her disappear into the kitchen. Just moments ago, she’d had you gasping and whispering her name in ways that felt sinful—and now here she is, slipping out of bed to bake cookies.

[writeaboutit]

Donation Boot

How firefighter Abby and Reader met

Hello hello it’s been a bit so sorry but I had this idea for a series of sorts following firefighter Abby x Reader through life. I have ideas for a couple more stories but if you have any suggestions leave them in my inbox for sure 🤍

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none just fluff

Part 2: Damn the Chief

Part 3: Silly Abby Candy's for Kids

You heard her key jingle in the lock from the kitchen. The metal on metal scratching noise was like music to your ears despite it being like nails on a chalkboard to others.

That noise meant your wife was finally home. All day you had been waiting for her to come home, missing her warm cuddles. She left for the station before you had even woken up.

Usually you stirred awake for the briefest of moments in those early hours when you heard the shower start, you made it a point to stay awake just long enough to say an I love you as you sent her off to do her work. You never knew when it might be your last so you didn’t chance it.

But last night the melatonin must have hit you extra hard because you didn’t even register Abby’s movements when she leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your brow bone before clunking out of the room in her steel toed boots.

You regretted not waking up; no more melatonin for you.

The front door creaked open and you heard your dog’s collar jingle as she ran to greet your wife.

Abby must have been following the dogs lead to your presence in the kitchen because you heard her mutter, “Come on, where’s your momma?”

Your heart was instantly a mushy puddle on the tile floor following the comment. Just as you finished drying your hands the love of your life rounded the corner.

She was wearing her normal uniform. Not the big, bulky, fireproof suit but the fitted jeans and the navy blue t-shirt with the station’s logo over her breast.

You were such a sucker for a woman in uniform, it’s how she caught your attention in the first place. But what kept you around was that blinding smile she had plastered across her face that first day.

You and your friends decided to visit your local farmers market during second year of college. It was a fluke really, you weren’t even planning to go with them but after days of them whining that you could spare a couple of hours away from the text books and come have fun you agreed.

The local fire station had a booth set up collecting donations and the truck open for kids to climb in and take pictures.

One of your friends thought a fire fighter was hot and insisted on getting a picture with him by the truck (her very obvious way of flirting). You couldn’t blame her though because you had your eye on one of the younger trainees.

She was working the booth, tracking donation levels and you knew you would hate yourself for the rest of your life if you ignored your gut.

So, despite you being 19 and a broke college student you approached. They were collecting cash donations in one of the big fire suit boots.

You slipped the only cash you had on you into the dark depths of the boot, ten dollars, and were planning to make your way back to your friends, chickening out of talking to her, when all of the sudden you heard, “Hey, wait!”

You turned around and there she was. She had gotten up from her perch and made her way around the table. It was a bit jarring at first. She was tall, muscular, that tight ponytail made her look very sever, and here she was leaning over you with an expectant look.

“Yes?” you asked hesitantly.

“Don’t you want your coupons?” she asked suddenly realizing that she was close and backing up a step.

“Sorry?”

The confusion must have been written on your face because she immediately explained in a sort of rambily but very cute way, “When you donate you get a coupon to the local grocery store… and some other stores but honestly there all the old lady stores in the mall. The grocery ones the only one worth it.”

You just smiled softly at her over explanation. You expected her to be this over confident, maybe slightly douchy character from the way she approached before but really you could see her nerves peaking through now.

It only made you more attracted to her in all honesty.

“Oh right, yeah thanks.” you took the coupon sheet from her and after a moment of tense silence between the pair of you, you both went your separate ways.

It wasn’t until later that night when you went to cut out the grocery coupon and throw out the rest that you realized she had messily scribbled her name and number onto the think colorful price of paper.

You squealed, your roommate asked what was wrong and then you both quickly plotted on what you should text her.

It was simple really just a quick hey this is so n’ so, how are you?

Your phone only sat face down for a total of three minutes before you heard the chime of her reply and the rest is history.

Now seven years later your wife, the nervous fire fighter with the tight ponytail, was coming home to you. You would share a meal, a shower, a bed. It was the life you always wanted and all because you went to a farmers market on a random Sunday seven years ago.

That blinding smile that caught your attention all those years ago was plastered across her face now in the small kitchen of your small house.

Her setting her bag down on the island brings you out of your memory.

“Hey honey,” you greet, making your way to her.

“Hi baby, what were you thinking about just now?” she wraps her arms loosely around your waist.

“Hmm nothing much just your pretty smile,” she rolls her eyes, never one to take a compliment, “Speaking of which, that smile usually means you’re plotting something. What is it?”

She looks down at you and smiles, “You know me too well. I was plotting on what we are going to do over the next three days that I have off of work.”

That gets you excited. It’s not often that she gets time off of work. Sometimes you don’t even see her for days at a time when she has to sleep at the station. Three days off in a row is practically unheard of.

“Really?”

“Swear,” she kisses your forehead.

“Eek, so what were you planning?”

She chuckles and belts her arms just under your thighs, lifting you into the air, “Oh I think you know exactly what i have planned.”

Her voice turned seductive and husky. You squealed as you became level with her face. You both laughed into a soft kiss, one that was definitely going to lead to a forgotten dinner on the stove and a closed bedroom door.

[kngrose]

pitfighter vi who promises reader just the tip and then gives her the whole strap🫶🫶🫶

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐏

vi making you take the whole strap

WARNINGS: NONCON! Dead Dove Do Not Eat, virginity loss, coercion, dacryphilia, spit play, implied corruption kink, bulging, be safe, heed warnings!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i am so in love with this idea omg omg omg— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i got carried away, so the ending is abrupt. ^^

Vi would just be going against her better judgment here, like she usually does about… everything.

"...Are you sure this is what you want, baby?"

She’d asked gently as she leaned down and whispered into your ear, her breath warm as it hit your skin. Vi's hands moved up and down your sides slowly, her body pressed against yours. She let out a something like a huff of a laugh through her nose at your whispered, ‘Yes… But— you remember our promise, right?’ It was something about that, that made you think, maybe you should’ve known better.

She promised a few nights ago that she would indulge your request of losing your virginity. She was close, trusted— you’d had no problem confessing it to her and she’d made you feel comfortable and safe in her presence. You didn’t want to lose it to just anybody, but you wanted to have the experience. “Just the tip.” She’d initially meant it as a joke. Just a lighthearted statement to loosen you up a bit, but she was taken aback when you’d eagarly nodded in agreement, holding her to that statement.

Vi chuckled lowly at you, your nervousness and anticipation was so cute and endearing. She leaned down, her body hovering over yours, her mass pressing you to the matress. She could feel your heart beating fast, it was exciting. She took a moment to relish in this moment, her lips moving down to your neck, kissing and biting at it softly. "You're so cute, you know that?" She whispered against your skin between kisses, gently biting and suckling the sensitive flesh on your neck. You could make out every strand of inky black hair on her head.

“Vi—”

“You’re nervous, huh?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to push down the nerves that were making it hard to breathe. “Yes.”

"Try to relax, it'll feel better." She murmured, finally sitting up straight, gripping the thick— almost daunting strap in her fist. She’d told you she had nothing smaller, that this was all she could offer you. She placed a large palm right above your pussy, pressing firmly to keep your hips still. “Ready for it?” she locked eyes with you, nudging the tip against your clit, slapping it there a few times. You nodded shakily, holding her gaze with anticipation.

“Words.”

“Yes I’m ready…” It came out shaky, like you were riding a bike on a rocky path. She nods curtly, her gaze falling to your pussy, all spread nicely for her. She taps the tip against your clit a few more times, enjoying the way you gasp softly before slowly tilting the tip downwards to your hole.

It started out subtle, a stinging sensation that slowly built up— but it spread quickly as she pushed further, your hole struggling to accommodate to her size. It felt like being ripped open, the girth of it pushing upwards of your blatter. Your back lifted off the bed. “O-ouch!—” You let out a soft yelp, grasping her hip tightly as to keep her grounded there.

"Shhh.. just keep breathing" She replied immediately, feeling you tense and her free hand coming up to push you back down onto the bed. "Just breathe, relax." She whispered, gently kissing along the leg she held up. You tried to do as she instructed, taking deep, shaky breaths, closing your eyes tightly. It was starting to work.

But your relief was short lived, snatched from you as you felt the searing pain of her sliding deeper. “W-wait vi— what are you doing?!” You took the hand you had placed firmly on her hip and pushed, trying your hardest to still her movement. But it was impossible— she was so strong, much moreso than you, your efforts were fruitless. "Shh... calm down, baby.." She whispered softly, trying to sooth you as she held her position for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling. Her free hand moved up to brush against your cheek and gently caress your chest, trying to get you to relax. Her voice was soft and calming, trying her best to comfort you as she felt you getting tense. "Relax. Everything is gonna be alright. I got you. I promise I'll go slow but..I need you to relax, okay? Just breathe…"

“N-no! Vi— you said just the tip!”

"I know, I know... baby, I'm sorry.." She said, her body moving still to hold herself up, one arm propped on the bed beside your head. She looked down at you with an understanding, but also determined look, trying to reassure you. "But you're doing so well for me. You're such a good girl..." She pushed her hips further, firmly this time, watching your expression closely. “Move your hand.” she commanded gently, and when you refused she grabbed it and pinned it your your side. She leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, claiming your lips in a deep and passionate kiss.

She frowned as you turned your head, a childish attempt at avoiding her affection. "Baby, please.." She begged softly, her hand reaching up and gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head back towards her so she would see your face. "Don't do that, look at me, baby. C'mon." Her voice was desperate. Her lips were so close to yours, her body leaning over you, her free hand still caressing your skin. She was aching for your taste again.

When you turned your face away from her a second time, low growl escaped her lips, her grip on your chin tightening. "No. Eyes on me, baby. I said look at me. I want you to look at me, I want to see your pretty face when I'm taking you." She commands, her voice firm yet gentle.

You felt her bottom out, your pelvis throbbing at the feeling. You felt to full, so uncomfortable. It hurt just to slightly move your hips. Tears blur your vision, a mixture of frustration and and betrayal overwhelming you. It felt like she was pressing down on you at all sides— her presence giving you a sick feeling in your tummy.

She started at a slow and steady pace, her hips meeting yours deliberately, one of her hands gently caressing the side of your face to try and sooth you. Her lips began to suck at your neck again, leaving soft, small love bites and hickeys along your skin, marking you as hers. "That's it... you're such a good girl for me, baby.... So so good... and you look so pretty like this. Taking me in... so good for me.." You didn’t bother to try wiping your tears, they would keep flowing anyways.

She took a hand and rubbed your clit meticulously, applying soft pressure. “F-fuck—!” You cursed, hands gripping the sheets tightly. Vi smirked at your reaction, rubbing just a bit faster, “Gotta loosen you up baby, you’re so tight.” She spit onto your pussy. “Relax, princess.”

“I can’t!”

“You can.” You try to bite back the yelps of pain, not wanting to edge her on any further than you already unkowingly have, tucking your lip between your teeth. You keep your eyes squeezed shut, your body rocking with every slam of her hips. "No, sweetness,” She takes her thumb and pulls your lip free. “You’re so pretty when you make little noises for me. Let me hear them, I wanna hear your pretty voice." Her eye contact was daunting and unwavering, it made you nauseous.

Her pace began to pick up a bit more, her hips moving more urgently against you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with her soft, ragged breaths and your yelps. Her free hand squeezed your hip, her slender fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth came down and began to gently nuzzle your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she pressed messy little kisses along the sensitive flesh there.

“How is it, hm?” She said between kisses, but you chose not to respond. You were focused on the way you could feel you pussy starting to leak, your hole embracing her now. Your body was betraying your mind. “S-shit!” You whimper quietly against your best efforts, but you know she caught it.

She sits back up and you could see the thought cross her mind before she acted on it, her hand reaching down to shove two fingers into your mouth, caressing your tongue with a perverted smirk. "Good girl.... keep those pretty lips open for me, baby..” You could feel the spit sliding down your chin. You felt your pussy throb at her praise, moaning abrubtly at her words. Her thrusts had really been working into you now, nudging your walls with a purpose. It felt good.

That one moan went straight to Vi's core, hearing you sent a shiver down her spine, her pace quickening slightly. She pulled your hips up, into you at new angle, watching in awe as you fell apart. “Hah—hah—” You didn’t even try to stay quiet anymore, her dick hitting your g-spot deliciously. "Yeah.... just like that, baby. Let it out for me.” She stuck two fingers back into your mouth, “Get ‘em nice and wet, babydoll,” Vi groaned lowly as she watched you flick your tongue over her fingers, moving them down to your clit again to rub you. “Feels s’good right, baby? My baby just needed someone to push her past her limits, huh?”

You replied with a string of moans, your feet flailing aimlessly at her thrusts. “Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” She notices it before you do; the bulge sticking out of your pelvis everytime she bottoms out. “Ohhhhh, fuck me. Look at that, baby.” Her voice pulls you out of your trance, lulling your head up to look at what she was referring to. “Oh my God—” You choke up as she lifts a hand to press on it, “Bet that feels fuckin’ amazing, huh? Getting your guts dug in?”

You can hardly form a sentence, arching your back into the matress; she’s fucking you so good. “Yesss— fuck! S’good!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” She fucks you at a vigorous speed, beating into your g-spot with every thrust. “Cmon, sweetness. I wanna see your cum face.” She spits on your pussy again, taking her fingers and rubbing your clit, fast. “Cmon baby, let go f’me.”

taglist: @opropheticsoul @gravegoer @d3eathnotes @nikaachuuuu @elwerostinky-13 @maiiluvs @sevikasfan @hearrrtfillia @facelesshere @vanillasundaeblob @jannesyjane @bamtorriii @simp-of-the-day @hellokittyfeenie @livingdeddghirl @trizxyp @finefocks @pleasantlyhotgarbage @halle5s @lominaria @xxblairslairxx @croissantime @saturnknows @bloodyskns @theogkqthxrjne @malacrnaruza @softsy @randomperson291 @arevik2345

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[jjkyaoi]

the “you really hate me that much?” moment from one character in rivals/enemies to lovers ships will always be the most addictive drug

[mariathechosen1]

Do you read fanfiction? Are you queer? Well then I’ve got the perfect survey for you!

Hi! I’m a student writing a research paper on the prevalence of queer couples and lgbtq+ representation in fanfiction and need participants for my survey. This project will be entered in a national (Very prestigious) research competition and will be judged by an academic jury. The more answers I get on this survey, the more accurate my research will be, so I'd really appreciate it if you would take the time to answer! 

https://forms.gle/8sae8vzQRERAzYiX8

Update: The survey is currently being redone! You can find the reasoning behind this (and other FAQ) here [https://at.tumblr.com/mariathechosen1/queer-participation-and-representation-in/i689fhq3b2vn] and the new survey here: https://forms.gle/Tcoafs9dU627PNcn8

Here are some reasons to partcicipate: 

Science and stuff

Force a highly prestigious academic jury to read more than 20 pages about gay fanfiction 

Better my chances of winning real-life money by writing more than 20 pages about gay fanfiction

Help expand a largely ignored academic field (fandom studies)

It’ll only take like 8 minutes (5 minutes if you’re quick)

Uhhmmm…

Please?

The only requirement is that you have some sort of experience with fanfiction or fan works (Whether that be writing or reading). You do not have to be queer to participate and all answers are completely anonymous

Reblogs are appreciated!

[creelarke]

"On AO3 there are about 6,400,000 fics as of now that are M/M and only about 1,200,000 fics for F/F. Fans should stop excluding female characters for the sake of male characters" Hold the fuck on???? People don't "exclude female characters for the sake of male characters". The ratio between M/M fics and F/F fics is literally because more people like M/M fics more than they do F/F and that's actually fine, it's not that deep. Because people can write whatever they like.

Yes, misogyny is a very real thing. But you're erasing the creditability of that word and are the ones doing harm to women if you scream misogyny every time you see something that slightly upsets you. Writers ONLY writing M/M doesn't automatically mean they're misogynists, without any other factors present that may or may not make them misogynists, the only fact that 'some writers ONLY write M/M' literally just means they like writing romance between two male characters and that's it.

This is fanfiction we're talking about, not a political debate or social justice protest. If the majority of people want to write about two male characters falling in love, then let them.

You don't get to shame a writer for "ONLY writing about M/M" because everybody has the rights to write whatever they like.

If you want more works for F/F, then write F/F yourself. No one's stopping you.

As a feminist myself, shaming writers for only writing M/M doesn't make you a feminist, it makes you an entitled dick.

(from this poll by @curiositysavesthecat nothing against the mods of the poll blog btw, they just run polls that were sent to them.)

[ciggrtte]

"they don't know about us"

[freakassfemme]

Can we have Abby taking care of needy reader after a long day of work 🙂‍↕️she just wants her brain to the off

LMFAO yeah ofc I can <3 this is literally the easiest request in my inbox rn, im glad we're all coping this way

manhandle/after work with abby [drabble] ₊ ⊹ ೀ

You weren't a stranger to this, really. It was easiest to split your thoughts in two like this, to let the tension go from your shoulders and focus on something different, something more tangible and pleasant that gave your brain that immediate satisfaction that it so desperately craved.

"Fuck, baby, look at you --"

Abby's voice purred through her otherwise silent stadium dorm, her hands tangled in your hair and coaxing out the sweetest little praises in return.

You kneeled before where she sat on the edge of her bed, one of her legs viciously bouncing as she tried to keep her cool. Your mouth worked itself over her strap, hands grasping at her thighs, her hips, the base of the toy, anything you could find to satiate your needs. Every hit to the back of your throat, spurred on by the desperate bucks of her hips, made you moan and whine in ecstasy. She pulled your hair up, forcing you to maintain that piercing eye contact with her.

Breathe. Holy shit, you need to breathe. Fuck, she's pretty.

Your head was almost entirely blank at this point, just focused on maintaining your god damn consciousness while Abby's hips abused your straining throat. Every grunt she pulled from you made her groan, say something even dirtier than before that had you squirming below her and making more obscene sounds.

"Shit, you like that, huh?" She asked. Abby was panting, so out of breath just from the sight of you, so eager to please and to be pleased, that she couldn't help but smirk at each of your little reactions. It was easy for her, to make you feel like it was your first time with her all over again, to pull that enthusiasm and desire from you after all these years like it was nothing.

"You like when I make you take it, baby?" She groaned around the words. She held your head in place, bucking into your mouth while you whined and failed at nodding around the silicone, spit dripping down the corners of your mouth and on to your thighs. You hummed instead, your lips curling into a shy smile around her strap.

Yeah, she couldn't handle that.

Abby pulled away, ripping herself from your mouth in a way that left your throat even more raw, yet you still whined, already hungry for its return.

"Shh, shh, I know," she purred, scooping you up into her arms and spreading you out on to the bed, ass up. "I know you need it sweetheart. 'M gonna give it to you, I promise, sweet girl."

And god, the way she manhandled you -- picked you up so effortlessly, had no issue getting you just how she wanted you even when your legs were like jelly, it made you melt. She didn't make you do anything in return except open up and accept what she offered. Not when you were like this, when you had come home in near tears, unable to stop the words that practically vomited out of your mouth about the shitty fucking day you had.

Abby made it so easy for your racing mind to go still, guiding you through it with gentle touches, just gave you exactly what you needed and filled anything you'd let her. It was so easy to be stupid for her, to nod and babble when she pulled your hips up with one hand, running her thumb on her other hand over your needy and warm slit, laughing softly at the way it clenched around nothing, just as desperate for her as the rest of you was.

Breathe, breathe breathe breathebreathebr--

Your thoughts were fucking shredded into emptiness as Abby bottomed out in one fell swoop, pushing into you with a groan that had you convinced she could feel how tight your unprepared cunt was around her. A guttural moan ripped from your throat and echoed into the mattress, and your hand flew back, searching for hers.

And Abby knew you so well, hers was already waiting, catching your wrist and interlacing your delicate fingers in her calloused ones.

"That's my girl," she whispered, watching your back relax and arch against the bed, falling limply into her hand. She rolled her hips against yours experimentally, swearing at the responsive whine you pushed out. Her hips moved on their own, syncing into a familiar pattern that had your toes curling and head dizzy in no time.

"I've got you, I've got you, baby," she chanted as broken, babbled cries fell from your lips. Her other hand came around to cradle your jaw, pulling you up so she could kiss the side of your cheek, behind your ear, down your neck as she thrusted into you.

"Just let me do it for you, baby. I've got you."