It Was The First Time My Shrieking Drew Someone Closer To Me. I Saw It In The Corner Of The Mirror. A

by ilonaramona

Wouldn't mind playing laser tag if it ended like that

Laser Tag

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,664

Summary: You play laser tag with your boyfriend Steve and his best friend Bucky. Since you’re just a plain ole civilian, you gotta use what non-Avenger skills you have to avoid losing. Hint: those skills involve Steve and kissing.

A/N: Look, I just want Steve & Bucky to be happy and do fun things, okay? So, this is obvs AU, and I regret nothing ;)

“Why do I have to wear purple?” you scowled over at Bucky.

He laughed, looking entirely too smug in his red vest. “Red’s my color, crybaby,” he said, gripping his bright red gun like only an ex murderous assassin could.

“And I can’t not wear blue,” Steve said, fastening the last strap on your vest. He wasn’t even being gropey, which made you pout.

“You guys are taking this laser tag thing waaay too seriously,” you huffed, glaring at Steve as he readjusted your grip on the purple gun until you held it properly.

He gave you his ‘aw shucks’ grin as he stepped away and pulled his own gun from across his back. “Every man—“

You raised an eyebrow.

“And gal,” he quickly added, “For him or herself, okay?” His smile slowly faded and was soon replaced by Captain America in the Field face.

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The "BECAUSE SEX WITH ANDY" defines me way too much

But omg

What... happened?! She was fierce, and then scared, and then horny, and then soft and horny and I was here like.... I'm also soft and horny I want a Andy for myself to?!

I've been a good girl where's my blackmail?

Kinktober Prompt 18: Blackmail w/Andy Barber

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader Word Count: 7,651 (WHAT THE FUCK???) Summary: You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Dub con. Blackmail. Mention of minor character death. Hand job. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected sex. Soft!dark Andy Barber. AU. Dark fic. 18+

A/N: Hellooo, my pretties! So this fic is based on a dream I had a few of months ago. It was originally about mob!Steve, but the more I mulled over this idea and hoed with @angrythingstarlight​ the more I was like fuck, I need to write me some mob!Andy! Also also, we’re playing with soft!dark here, and I will always and forever credit @giorno-plays-piano​ for that concept living rent free in my brain 🥴🥴 Enjoy! I love you! Also I can’t believe I’m still writing Kinktober fics in January. Maybe I’ll just draw it out till Kinktober 2021 at this point 👀

P.S. Y/F/N = Your father’s name

It was only a few days after you buried your father when you woke to the sound of gunshots in your family manor.

You blinked into the darkness of your room, listening so hard–so intently–that the silence was deafening.

Then the sound of raised voices from downstairs rose up. Your mother’s anguished cry. Your younger brother’s frightened shouts. Gruff male voices that you didn’t recognize.

You were moving before your brain caught up with your body, the satin of your short sleep dress pulling against your thighs as you slid from bed.

You were careful as you slipped from your room, knowing the converted attic, and the back stairway that led down into the pantry hall behind the kitchen, could be noisy and draw attention, which was the last thing you wanted.

Especially since you didn’t know what you were walking into.

Continuar a ler

if i ever misgender you or use slang (bro, man, gurl, dude) that makes you feel even slightly uncomfortable please tell me because your gender identity and comfort is more important than any word i may use to refer to you

I was going to sleep

I just decided to check tumblr before I would do that, no need to attack me this hard

me at 8pm: you know im kind of tired maybe i’ll actually get to bed at a reasonable hour like 10 or 11 or something

me at 2 am:

My dad (Unattractive but super social) + My mom (Attractive but social) = Me (Unattractive and with social anxiety)

Fiction get its inspiration in reality, reality inspires itself in fiction. It just makes sense that we can trust some parts of fictional stories, because something might actually happen!

But then, you have to wake up! You have to grow up and stop believing everything will be alright because in stories does, you grow up thinking bad things happen to bad people and if you good you will be rewarded by fate. But then, reality comes and it hits you hard.

One day you wake up and you understand that your good deeds didn't take you to your better half, they didn't lead you to a happy job where you are congratulated by being a good worker. No!

Fiction failed me, not only because it lied to me about my happy ending before my thirties with my soulmate but it failed me also because good people not always get good things, bad people not always suffer the consequences of their actions. Karma isn't real, the world is, the physical things are.

Reality is real, fiction it is not but I no longer see the inspiration they used to share! The world is getting rotten because dreams keep on dying, because people keep on thinking on ways to survive instead of ways to live.

Fiction is like a Greek goddess everyone can applaud to her beauty, but she will never completely protect you because like all Gods fiction is also egotistical they sell dreams but never tell you they're impossible!

Fiction has failed me and I can't forgive her for it, I just can't seem to find that sympathy on me to forgive her, or maybe I can't just find within myself a way to forgive myself for believing on her!

The little shit!!! I loved this

Bed of Roses

dark!Clark Kent x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ only; DUBCON, coercion, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, major size kink, descriptions of size difference, no plot

thanks to @/inklore for the divider

You had come to trust Clark, trust in his righteousness, and more personally, you trusted him to never hurt you.

Not only was he the hero the world needed; Clark had placed his secret in your hands. The least you could do for him was be there to support him in the little ways you could. It hadn't seemed enough at first, because compared to the fires he battled, the heights he flew, what could you dare hope to provide for Clark? But he kept coming back. In time, you overcame the shyness of beholding a hero. But the awe never wore off.

And how could you not grow to love this lonely soul that insisted you were the only balm for the sacrifices he made?

You hadn't been ready that first time, but he had been patient with you. You started out with so much going through your mind; afraid you would disappoint him, afraid that the next stage of physical intimacy would change too much of your relationship.

Then he came in, with a confident touch and encouraging words. There was so much, he was so much that night.

Hungry -- his eyes blazed up and down your naked form; his hands grasped and squeezed firmly so that were you to try and get away, you would have surely failed. His mouth had swallowed down your mumbles, nipped your skin until you felt dazed in submission.

You had been nervous, yet his cooing washed away your quiet words. His unrelenting weight kept you in place beneath him. Kept you secure, just as he insisted you should be. I'll always keep you safe. He could understand you so well, even better than your own mind, it had seemed. You don't let new things scare you off. You're my brave girl. He shouldered the responsibility of Earth's inhabitants, yet, Clark did not hesitate to pay extra attention to you.

"Just the tip, that's it." He cooed, nuzzling against you as your lips parted in mimicry of how he was opening you up. "So good, sweetheart."

He wedged the tip of his cock between the wet lips of your cunt, pressing, splitting, pushing until the bulbous head burst past that tight opening and stayed caught. You gasped, breathing shallow at the impossibly thick intrusion.

He took your hand. He kissed your fingertips, then licked your open palm and guided you, wrapping your little hand around his shaft and leading you in stroking him. He huffed, grunting how good you made him feel.

"Such a good girl for me. Fuck, this pretty pussy can't fit all of me yet, huh? Keep going."

You did your best, eager to please him, eager to be good so he could see how much you loved him being gentle for you. Even with the overwhelming heat of his skin on yours, the press and mix of sweat, you tried following his lead. The initial sting of his penetration had faded and all you wanted was to make him feel good. He had listened to you. When you were hesitant, he had encouraged you to trust in him and in yourself. He challenged you in a good way, knowing you could handle these new touches. Clark had told you he knew what was best for you, and see how he had proven it?

Your heart thundered, but you sped up, gripping him tight. You squirmed as he sucked hard at a nipple, sparking jolts of pleasure through you, making your whine at the way his teeth ran across your softness. He groaned. You felt his muscles under your free hand, contracted with so much pressure like he was holding all of himself back. He tried so hard, all for your sake. You would be good for him.

You felt sore and so tired after, and so safe in his embrace.

He kissed you as you fell asleep. Grateful that you could share this with Clark. He would never make you do anything you couldn't handle.

He held your knees wide apart and gorged himself between your legs. You grew sensitive after his eager mouth suckled and licked you so. When you tried to sit up, uttering his name, he yanked you onto your back and kept taking in your sweet slick. His tongue thrust into you, then one finger pushed in that had you whimpering.

Again, you were at his mercy -- no, you were receiving his love, his passion. He was so good to you. You could be good for him.

You hadn't expected so much of his attention tonight, and couldn't help writhing as he kept at you, kissing your sensitive core raw.

When he sat up, you groaned in relief. Clark dropped soft kisses along your hip, murmuring praise. You would have swooned if you weren't already a puddle of buzzing pleasure.

Tonight, he asked to touch you again just so. He missed you, couldn't get you out of his mind, needed to be close to you. Just the tip again, he said.

Now, you were trapped under him. The tip of his cock had found home in you once more. Just as tight of a squeeze as the first time. You wanted to make him feel good again. Just the tip. You could do it.

He was leaving wet kisses up your breastbone, when you felt another bit of his cock slide in.

You winced.

"You're okay. I got you."

A brief rut had you pressing at the side of his ribs. "...Cla..Ah..."

He licked into your mouth. His big paw captured your hand, holding it down. He flexed his hip and you whined at getting split more and more.

"Feel so fucking perfect," he groaned. He filled you so much now, you sobbed, trying to remind him of his promise, but he kissed you, his gravelly voice unrepentant in your ear.

"Knew you could take it. My good girl."

He drew out and thrust slow and slick into you, again and again. Each time he withdrew you felt your pussy clinging to him and you didn't know how but the heat in your center flared hotter and hotter. There was so much of him to fit in, and he had primed you for it, dripping as you were. But you had not been prepared for this, and there so much, so much of him to take.

Resting his forehead on yours, Clark took up all the space in and around you. He was everything, all that you could feel as his hips met the backs of your thighs.

Your body grew taut, ready to combust. Grinding against you lit up that nub of pleasure and you whined with your release. Seeing you lose yourself in climax drove Clark to a frenzy, hips snapping until you couldn't remember how it felt before he claimed you. He growled into the crook of your neck, holding you tight as he came.

As your mind slowly cleared, he shifted you, laid you out on top of him. You felt his hands all over, stroking down your back, kneading your shoulder, squeezing your bottom. His touch, heavy and warm, lulled you away from how overwhelmed you had felt.

Clark knew all along what was good for the both of you.

-

Peaceful autumn