Rach (she/her). 30s. Writer. Dreamer. 🥀 Mostly CEvans and SebStan. 🥀 NSFW. 18+ (if you’re under 18, Respect my Boundaries and Do Not Interact, please). 🥀 FanFic Recommendations 🥀 Check Out My AO3 or Masterlist
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Author’s Note: I aim to be inclusive in my writing, since reader characters are supposed to apply to everyone. However, not all of my older works are as inclusive as they could be and are influenced by my own experience. Please bear this in mind while exploring my masterlist. Thank you for reading!
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Did you seduce the vampire who donates to the museum you work at just so you could look at all the cool artifacts inside his manor? Yes, and you don't regret it.
Your hands curl around his arm as he walks you down the lavish carpeted hallway, it looks even bigger on the inside.
He talks and talks about the portraits you pass, family members, old friends and lovers, enemies. You listen with rapt attention, almost unable to keep your jaw off the floor.
"And the bedchambers are–"
"Oh, wow. When is that one from?"
He lets you pull him down another hall, abandoning the plan he'd been making ever since you walked up to him in that low cut dress.
Nevertheless, he explains the origins and backstory behind another painting, letting you guide him farther down the hall, the awe on your face never fading.
"It's just beautiful."
You marvel at the sculpture in front of you, the vampires hands rest easily on your hips, his chin on your shoulder.
"I watched the artist sculpt it with his own hands."
He places light kisses up your neck, fingers lightly digging into your dress.
"Molding the clay to do his bidding; it was quite erotic as I recall."
As your lips meet, he barely keeps his hunger in check, pulling your bodies together while pushing his tongue past your teeth.
You enjoy his hungry kiss, loving the way he shivers as you scratch the nape of his neck just right. Then, your eyes catch something in your peripheral and you gasp, pulling away to get closer.
"Is that real?"
The vampire sighs woefully, but you're far too busy admiring the luxurious day bed you'd spotted in the next room over.
"It must be from the 17th century."
He's behind you in a second, twirling you around in his arms, lips on your neck again.
"Yes, good eye, my love. Would you like to take a seat?"
He rasps while lowering you down onto the plush cushions.
"Wait."
You panic, of course, not wanting to damage such an old and precious piece of art but your companion simply grins, baring his fangs.
"Don't worry, darling. I tell you all about my preservation techniques after we've both had our fill."
You could only respond with a surprised moan as he dips his head under your dress.
You made quite a mess of the pretty bed, but you also got a very interesting presentation on methods for preserving 17th century furniture!
the issue with growing up in the 2000s and 2010s was like there was this really big push toward "accepting your weirdness" overall but they meant like idk wearing mismatched socks or something not being tangibly beyond the norm in any way shape or form
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$3 download (includes version where you can color in your own Pride flag. Limited restrictions, mostly don't be a fascist or major company: https://ko-fi.com/s/ac6c284e8c
you have permission to pick that 2 year old "abandoned" project back up. it's not mad at you for setting it aside. and maybe time and distance have helped ease or erase the things that made you put it down in the first place.
Pick a piece of dialogue and/or a location + a kink of your own choosing.
PROMPTS ARE OPEN.
Once I have received four to five prompts, I will close the list & open up the list for the next character. You’re more than welcome to send in prompts for each character. If you happen to send one in after I’ve received the right amount, I will let you know if you’re prompt won’t be filled and you’ll have priority on the next one you send in!
The prompts will be gathered and written into a full chapter for each character, but you will be provided with a snippet!
I don’t really have any triggers, but I will let you know if a kink/scenario might be difficult for me to fill & you’ll be given an opportunity to change your prompt.
Pete’s Place Presents: The Schedule.
𝒟𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒:
“Such a shame, Sugar.”
“You can pretend to hate me, Sugar. It’s more fun that way.”
“You can wait.”
“Tell me how much you want me to ruin you.”
“Let’s see how cocky you are with your mouth stuffed full, hmm?”
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“Open wide.”
“Let’s see how much you can take.”
“I really didn’t wanna break you… I just wanted you to listen.”
Dating is always a fraught issue for dragons. There is, of course, the question of hoard compatibility, but even that takes second place if both have a princess.
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The tour of his home is long and filled with stops to marvel at the grand designs, art displayed on the walls, or to look out at the pristine gardens that wrapped around the unique estate the young lord Nabil had come to own.
Yet the true highlight was stepping foot in his piano room, the beautiful instrument set to the side on its own small dais, there is a day bed and several plush couches set up around the room as he follows you into the space. Cooing softly as you rush to inspect the piano, running gloved fingers across the polished ivory, tapping a few keys and listening as perfectly tuned notes follow, looking back at your suitor and lord of the manner you can't help but smile as you ask if he plays.
Moving to the side as he comes to stand by you, talons sitting on the keys gently before tapping out a small group of cords that you can't help but be enthralled by. Your betrothed is quite talented, so you ask for a song if he would indulge you, slipping down onto the nearest couch in the room, settling on the plush velveteen and watching as he adjusts the bench before sitting with as much grace as his bearing deserves.
Through the doors of the music room, your grandmother and the young lords observer take note of the distance between the two of you and decree the activity respectable, placing trust in the lords nature before retreating to the parlour for more detailed discussion on the timeline for the two family's union.
Alone together as the song plays out, you can't help but clap, while body alight with joy from the display of skill. Watching as he steps down from the dais and strides towards you, talons tracing the curve of your cheek as he leans forward to press his forehead against yours, warbling softly before a shudder runs through him, the capped tips of his fingers make you shiver in turn as chilled metal drags down your neck, catching in the front laces of your outfit for the day. His wings flare and cast a deep shadow as he asks if he may indulge himself in his soon to be nest mate, kissing between words as he lays attention down your neck.
A single small nod is all you can bring yourself to give him as the sound he makes flusters you, a deep groan that drags into a moan, bejewelled talons undo just enough of the ties to let himself press further down. Kissing across your collar and the very top of your chest that spills over the underthings you wear, you can see how the feathers that adorn his face and woven into his hair flare, ruffling, and puffing as he reaches down to rut against his own hand, clumsily undoing his placard and cupping his cock as he continues to lavish your chest in attention.
The sound he makes when you cup the back of his head is wounded, broken, simpering for a moment before he pulls back and pants openly, eyes a dark purple nearly consumed by the black of his pupils, even as he shudders through his own meager release the words he spills are nothing but sweet praise for you.
"Sweet nest mate, my sweet nest mate, the day of our joining needs to come swiftly. I can't keep resisting the sirens call you have over me, I want to parade you for the world to know that you are mine and I yours, I cannot wait for the moment I can see you worshiped as you should be..."
This is an offshoot for the Character of Nabil from this fic of mine.
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Warnings: Angst, angry seduction, emotional infidelity, arranged/forced marriage tension
Words: 300 words
A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles
Prompt: June 16th - “Every smile you fake.”
The feast still roared behind the closed doors.
Music. Laughter. Goblets striking tables. Your husband’s voice rising above it all, loud and pleased and entirely unaware his wife had slipped into the shadowed hall.
You needed air.
You needed silence.
You needed one moment where your face did not belong to anyone else.
“Running already?” Loki’s voice came from the dark like a blade drawn slowly from silk.
“Loki-” You closed your eyes. “You can’t be here...”
He ignored you stepping out from between the pillars, that quiet rag coming off him you swore you could taste it.
“I wondered how long you would last.” He almost snarled the words
“You don’t get to judge me.” It was you that snarled this time
“No?” His smile was sharp enough to hurt. “Then who does? Him?”
Your fingers tightened around the cup.
Loki crossed the space with that terrible, beautiful grace of his. “He laughs while you flinch from his hand. He calls you beloved yet fails to notice your distance. I watch every smile you fake.”
“Stop.” Your voice cracking.
“How long are you going to punish us both by keeping up this farce?”
“You think this was my choice?” You spat back.
“I think you let them make it for you.”
The slap cracked before you knew you had moved.
Loki’s head turned his face back, eyes burning, his smile sharp.
“There you are,” he murmured.
Your anger shook. So did your stinging hand.
He caught your wrist before you could step away, not hard enough to hurt, only enough to remind you he had always known how to hold you.
“You should have been mine,” the venom in his voice pierced you.
You hated him for saying it.
You hated yourself more for wanting him to it true.
The prompt: "That’s what I am to you: a big pillow with soft boobies that you can rest your head on?"
With Bucky Barnes
☺️
Come join the sleepover ✨
Aaaaw that's such a fun and cute prompt! Thanks for sending it in! Hope you like it! 💕
Bucky Barnes was used to a harsh, cold reality.
First, there had been the war, then, as the Winter Soldier, everything around him was death and despair. He had a few moments of peace in Wakanda, but the fighting never stopped for a man like him, and since then, the soft moments had been far and few between.
But somewhere along the way, he'd found you. You were like balm to his soul. Taking his problems and shortcomings in stride and being patient in abundance. Probably more than he deserved.
Bucky had never been a selfish man, but when it came to you, he kept you all to himself. When he was home from missions, he went to you as soon as he could. Never telling the rest of the team where he was going. Someone probably knew anyway. But they let him keep you his most treasured secret.
Not only was the way you handled him soft, so was your body. Bucky couldn't get enough of it. He wanted to touch you every second, preferably have you walking around without clothes, just so he could watch you.
A regular thing for the two of you was to catch Bucky up on the modern-day movies and series, while cuddling on the couch. Fuck debriefing and therapy appointments, what Bucky needed was you.
"That’s what I am to you: a big pillow with soft boobies that you can rest your head on?" you giggled as he arranged you like he wanted on the couch, just so he could rest his weary head on one of the softest places of your body. Nuzzling in close, he said, "You're so much more than that. You're my everything."
