I absolutely love ur Rafael barba fics ! I’ve binged every one-shots and series in the past 2 days !!!! I was wondering if you’d ever consider writing more since I’m absolutely hooked.
Maybe a series where reader is a SVU detective and has a long secret love affair with barba and he doesn’t want to go public but she does - they argue and she ends up leaving for a year (undercover or whatever u think) then appears back but with a CHILD !!!! And everyone’s shocked that the baby is literally rafaels twin and maybe they co parent first and then a slow burn back to lovers ?
Just a thought that’s I’ve had all day and I’m dying for someone to bring it to life and I feel like your the perfect person
I’m talking fluff - angst - heavy smutttttt !!!
Thank you so much! I’m currently on a Barba hiatus but fear not, now that idea is in my mind, I’m sure it’ll take root! If you’re in need of some more Barba to quell the thirst, I suggest binging the following authors here:
"Cheers to the legacy, the memories, and 25 years of legendary squad moments 🍾 #LawAndOrder and #SVU return this Thursday with a two-hour crossover event 8/7c on NBC and streaming next day on Peacock"
adarafaelbarba’s yule write your heart out holiday bingo:
It’s been a while since I hosted a bingo, so I thought I’d jump on for the holidays 🥰 I’ve tried to be as inclusive as possible with all the different holidays that are being observed during the month of December, but please feel free to let me know if I’ve missed something ❤️
So…from December 1st and until midnight on January 1st you can submit your entries. These entries can be short stories, long stories, headcanons, fanart, moodboards, does not matter 😌❤️
All I ask is that you follow some ground rules:
1. No relationship between a minor and a grownup (only familiar connections like parents/children)
2. No RPF (real person fics)
3. Tag your warnings at the top! And anything with heavy warnings should always be put under “read more”
4. Tag it: #yulewriteyourheartoutbingo
5. All works over 500 words must be put under read more.
6. If you submit fanart/moodboards and they’re graphic, put it under read more
7. Tag me in every entry.
8. One entry per day
Any fandoms are allowed! As long as you follow the rules 🥰
"Entirely Selfish" | Rafael Barba x F!Reader [Kinktober Day Three]
Kinktober Collection | Main Masterlist
Pairing: Rafael Barba x F!Reader
Prompts: Oral Sex
Warnings: Smut (18+), PWP, established relationship, mentions of a blowjob, oral f!receiving, fingering, (kind of) pussy worship, allusions to sex, implied dom!Rafael & sub!reader, mentioned multiple orgasms
Word Count: 1.7k (I got carried away)
A/N: Posting this 2 days later than planned. I wasn't happy with it, so I had to take a day. Still not sure what to think of this, but I suppose it could be worse. I'm a sucker for writing my favorite fictional men being obsessed with giving head to the point they see it as a reward for themselves. I just know this man gives excellent head. Thank you for cumming coming to my TED talk.
Read Me On AO3!
Sometimes, after watching the love of your life obliterate the worstof humankind on the stand in a crowded courtroom, wearing one of his perfectly tailored three-piece suits that suited him so well as he strutted across the marble floors like he owned the place—after the jury had come back with a clear and unanimous 'guilty', and the judge banged her gavel for the final time—as the voyeurs in the gallery scrambled to get out, you found yourself thinking, that man deserves to have his cock shoved as deeply down my throat as he damn well pleases.
On the other hand, though, Rafael Barba did not think he deserved to have his dick sucked. Or maybe he did—God knows he was a smug little shit—but his idea of a reward was not, like most men, to ask his partner for a blowjob. Yes, it felt good, and yes, your mouth would be the death of him someday, but so would your cunt. In fact, whenever he won and he saw that look on your face, the look of a giver, from across the room, he knew it would be easy to get what he wanted, and what he wanted was to have his head buried between your thighs and suck on your clit until you'd soaked his face at least twice. It wasn't what you deserved. Oh no, he did not believe that. To think that would have been selfless, and he'd been selfless for weeks now—toward the victims and their families, and everyone else who needed him.
No, to eat your pussy as if it were his last meal on death row was what he deserved—what Rafael had worked toward for weeks because between the trial and his stress-induced migraines, he'd barely had the time to touch you, and if there was one reward he wanted, it was this, and only this. He would take your mouth, too, eventually. He'd fuck you until all you could do was scream his name, that much was certain, but it would not be his first pick when he got home.
He knew you would probably be waiting, too, possibly even kneeling for him already. He would spread you out and take you. Yes, he would. If that was what you wanted, of course, but knowing you and the look you'd given him in the courtroom just then, you would be waiting; that was as much a certainty as the indescribable warmth of love that filled him whenever you were around him and rendered him blind to anything and anyone else.
God, he was already half hard on the elevator ride down to the foyer of the New York Supreme Court, surrounded by press and jurors and his colleagues from SVU—except for you; you and Carisi had taken the victims out back to make sure no one would dare talk to them. Once again, he found himself astounded at your caring nature and your big heart that kept getting you almost killed, giving him a heart attack every fucking time the phone rang and Olivia Benson's name flashed across his screen.
He didn't want to think about that, though, about the dangers you always put yourself in for the greater good, for the people. Not now. Not ever. The fact that life was short and that losing you was always a distinct possibility made him sad, and he didn't want to be sad right now. He wanted you, only you, all to himself, without danger breathing down your necks. He could die a happy man in your arms, he was sure, because at least then he would be with you.
As suspected, the moment the door to your shared apartment shut behind him, you were on him, not on your knees but on him. "Hi," you breathed as you kissed him, tugging at his suit jacket until it came off and fell to the floor.
Rafael smirked, and he pulled you closer until he could kiss you properly, unhurriedly. He took charge, as always. His lips moved against yours, warm, soft, and wet, and you moaned against them. Your entire body turned to putty in his hands. Every time you did, his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. How could one person mean this much to another, he wondered. How in love could one be before the feeling became so crushing that it turned deadly? He didn't know. He didn't understand, but he was utterly addicted to it—to you.
"Hi," he whispered back.
You slid his suspenders down, without hesitation, then undid the first few buttons of his shirt to get to his tie. You undid that one, too. He was wearing the red one you liked so much, but all niceties considered, it was in the way. He was wearing far too many clothes.
Rafael exhaled a pleased noise, watching your shaky fingers fidget with the fabric. "Oh. Straight to the point, huh?" His smirk widened. "You're not even gonna buy me dinner first?" he teased.
Your lips brushed his again, trailing lower, lower, lower, until they pressed over his pulse point. "Mhm," your hum reverberated against his skin, fingers sliding into his now-open shirt, over the faintly silver hairs on his chest and the golden cross around his neck that caught the light so deliciously well. "Thought you might prefer this over a steak," you said.
He whimpered at the feeling, at the goosebumps traveling down his spine and straight to his aching cock. "I do," he said. "God, I do."
And there were not many things he preferred over a thick, fat steak, but you? You always came first.
Your lips curled into a smile. "You did good, Guapo. You deserve a reward…" And just like that, you sank to your knees.
Rafael breathed a faint tsk, his hand coming to rest just below your jugular, and he stopped you. "Not like that, mi amor," he said.
You pouted, "But–"
"You know how much I love having your lips wrapped around my cock, I do, but… that's not what I want."
"What do you want?"
His smirk turned into a smile, soft as silk, yet nowhere near innocent. "I think you know what I want," he said.
"Tell me."
"You." He popped open the button on your jeans. "On the bed." The zipper followed. "Legs spread. Naked. Fingers in my hair…" He guided your hand to the now messy curls on the top of his head. The way he cradled you then should've been illegal, too soft for what he said next, and he whispered, right into your ear—your bloodstream, "My head between your thighs."
Your knees buckled.
"You want that?" he asked, softly. "You want me to eat you out?"
You did. God, you did, but… "That'd be a reward for me," you said.
His brows quirked up, as did his lips. "For you? Oh, cariño, no. I'm afraid my motivations are entirely selfish in nature."
That was all it took. Five minutes later, and you were spread out on the duvet covering your shared king-size bed, the lights of New York City behind the windows illuminating your bare skin in a mosaic of colors, and his head was buried deep between your thighs, where he rightfully belonged.
He'd meant it when he said that his motivations were entirely selfish. You realized that quickly when his lips closed around your clit and sucked, hard, his hands keeping you pinned to the mattress with nowhere to run—all you had to do was take it. He ate your pussy the way he always did, slowly, passionately, precisely, and with the utmost attention to detail that only a prosecutor could display. He made out with your folds, lips moving across the sensitive skin, feeling you, tasting you, his tongue darting in and out of you, before he returned to the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top.
He spread you open, admired you, kissed your bare pussy with the kind of gentleness that made you want to close your legs and hide away, but he would not let that stand. He would not let you hide.
Rafael sucked, licked, traced his tongue between your folds, up and down and up and down—he flicked his fucking silver tongue in all the places he knew like the back of his hand, the places he knew would drive you batshit crazy, up the walls.
He used his fingers, too, though only to provide him with more access. He dipped the tip of his index finger in, just so, feeling you clench around him, and the moan you let out was as much a plea for more as it was a sign of submission; you were willing to let this man do anything to you, anything he damn well pleased. You were probably going to thank him after, anyway.
One of your hands came to tangle in his dark, unruly hair. You wanted him closer, deeper. The wave of your orgasm was so close yet so far away, and you just wanted to ride it already. You wanted to come so badly, and he wanted you to come, too, but not on your terms; he wanted you to come on his terms, because this was his reward, not yours.
Rafael slapped your hand away.
"Rafa," you moaned.
He hummed against your pussy, dipping his tongue inside. He drank from you as if you were the fountain of youth or an ancient spring that would somehow grant him magical powers. Though Rafael Barba already had magical powers, and they were all in his mouth.
He drove you higher, higher, higher, higher…
Before you knew it, the knot in your belly tightened impossibly, and then it snapped. You couldn't even warn him, that was how fast it crashed into you, how sudden. Your lips parted in what could only be described as a borderline scream. Your back arched, your legs closed tight around his head, and you let the current drag you under.
He didn't stop, though.
He didn't stop until you came again and again, and again, on his mouth, his fingers, and eventually, his cock as he bent your knees against your chest and fucked you, hard—until all you could feel, all you could breathe, was him.
"You Trust Me?" | Rafael Barba x F!Reader [Kinktober Day Two]
Kinktober Collection | Main Masterlist
Pairing: Rafael Barba x F!Reader
Prompts: Temperature Play
Warnings: Smut (18+), PWP, established relationship, (again) orgasm control, unprotected p in v, use of "good girl", light choking, unconventional use of ice cubes aka temperature play (but make it light)
Word Count: 978
A/N: I actually kind of like this one. I'd originally planned something far kinkier, but then I started writing it and it turned into this spontaneous temperature play thing. A spur-of-the-moment decision, if you will. Also, I somehow made it more romantic than intended. But anyway, I'm not mad about it. I hope you enjoy it, too!
Read Me On AO3!
He kissed you like he wanted to breathe air into your lungs—like he wanted to be the oxygen that sustained you, and maybe he was.
Rafael covered you almost entirely with his broad frame, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock dragging in and out of your tight cunt in strokes deep enough to reach places you never knew existed, and those long, slender fingers you loved so much wrapped gently but firmly around your neck. He didn't squeeze. No, he just held you, right there, with your eyes locked on his, as the city outside faded into nothingness.
"You trust me?" he breathed against your lips.
"Always," you breathed back, quickly dissolving into a moan that he swallowed like a man starved.
You didn't register it at first, how his fingers wrapped around one of the melting ice cubes in the glass on the nightstand. He was all over you, inside you, consuming and absorbing you, all at once, and all you could feel was him, him, him… Every inch of you was on fire.
The moment the ice first brushed your achingly hard nipple, it was like lightning had struck. The cold mingled with the burning heat of your skin, sizzling, almost, and a drop of melted water traveled down the swell of your breast, over your stomach, and toward where the two of you were joined. The cold turned warm, then cold again as he repeated the motion, setting every last nerve in your body alight.
Your back arched so far off the mattress that the tip of his cock hit your cervix in a way that made you see an entire galaxy of stars exploding behind your rolled-back eyes. You exhaled a sound that was nowhere near human, but oh, he'd never heard sounds as sweet, as intoxicating, as the ones tumbling from your kiss-swollen lips right now. He wanted more; he craved it. It was perverted, how badly he wanted to record you like this and replay this moment over and over again whenever he was alone in his office, or you had a late shift at the precinct, and he just yearned to be inside you. He wanted you, always, all the damn time, and it was starting to affect his sanity. Though he was sure that having you like this was the closest he would ever come to the pearly gates of heaven, the closest he would ever come to God.
"You like that?" he asked, breathless, hips snapping faster against yours, harder. "Hm? You like it when I take you like this?"
You clawed at his back, his neck, his hair, until his lips found yours again. "Yes," you breathed.
"Tell me."
A whimper slipped past your lips, "Yes."
Rafael growled—still not nearly loud enough. He shifted his hips just so, brushing over your G-spot, and your walls fluttered violently around his thick cock. Your body drew him deeper, closer, and his name came out in another pathetic moan.
"God!" you cried out. "Yes. I love it. I love it so much. I love you, Rafa. Please…"
"Good girl," though the praise came so quietly, so wrecked, that you almost missed it.
Yes to all of it, you thought. The ice, the fire, his cock, his hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly, still, and everything in between.
As if he could read your thoughts—and you were sure he could, somehow, because he always knew what you were thinking, what you wanted—he slid the cube from your nipple down the valley of your breasts, then lower, lower, lower, to your pulsing clit, and he cupped your pussy to keep it there, to play the sensitive bundle of nerves like a fucking harp. He could feel it all over his cock—you, and the cold.
The wave built in an instant, pulling away from the shore and rising like a tsunami, higher and higher until its sheer force became crushing, bruising, nearly lethal. You cried out. You begged him not to stop, to keep his hand right there, and to let you come, please.
A lock of dark hair fell into his face. Even in your haze, you saw it. You saw him. His pupils were enlarged, but his green eyes shimmered almost emerald in the city lights streaming in through the bedroom window. He was flushed, yes, all over his cheeks and chest, but it was the look in his eyes that really got you—turned on, wrecked, and so hopelessly in love with you, all of you, that he could not contain the smile tugging on his lips as he kissed you again. And then he moaned, the kind of high-yet-low sound that made your walls flutter and the wave threaten to crash in.
"Rafa, please," you begged.
"You gonna come?" he rasped.
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Yes!" And you tugged at his hair for emphasis, which was just about enough to make his cock twitch inside you.
"Hold it for me," his voice cracked. "Just for a second. Just like that."
You almost cried, but then he said, "Wanna come with you," only a whisper in your ear, and you couldn't not follow his sweet, sweet plea. Not when he sounded like this; never when he sounded like this.
He rubbed his fingers over your clit, the cold of the now-melted ice cube seeping back in. Your nerves were oh-so-fragile; it didn't need much. One flick, two, and with the tiniest of nods from him, you shattered—both of you, at the same time, two loving hearts bleeding into one.
You made a mental note later that night, when the two of you were lying in bed and Rafael's soft snores filled the bedroom, unbothered, and the deep lines of worry on his forehead smoothed out for once: you would definitely be doing that again.
"Hold It" | Rafael Barba x F!Reader [Kinktober Day One]
Kinktober Collection | Main Masterlist
Pairing: Rafael Barba x F!Reader
Prompts: Masturbation + Voyeurism + Orgasm Control
Warnings: Smut (18+), PWP, masturbation, vibrator, established relationship, orgasm control/denial, (slight) voyeurism, use of "good girl", Spanish pet names, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: This isn't the best or the sexiest thing I've ever written. I've had a rough week, but I wanted to get this done and posted because I had a vision for this year's Kinktober and this fic, and I just wanted to write it down anyway, even if it's not my best. So... let’s just pretend everything makes sense, and enjoy!
Read Me On AO3!
You weren't sure how you ended up in this position, spread out on your king-size bed with a vibrator buried deep inside your pussy, while, illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the lamp next to the armchair on the other side of the room, Rafael Barba sat unnervingly still, watching the toy disappear in and out of you with the focus of a man far more patient than you'd ever seen him.
He had a glass of Scotch resting on his thigh, his long index finger drawing circles around the rim. He was still dressed, too—dress shirt, suspenders, and those perfectly tailored slacks he always wore, struggling to keep his cock contained as it kept hardening to an almost painful degree. He didn't pull it out, though. Rafael just quietly sat there, watching, and he refused to touch you.
Fuck him.
"Rafa," you breathed, shifting your hips ever so slightly, forcing the toy even deeper and the knot in your lower belly closer, closer, closer to bursting.
His piercing green eyes flicked from your dripping cunt to your face. His brow twitched, as did the corners of his mouth, and he clenched the glass a little tighter in his hand. God, you thought, he was probably imagining that it was his cock, or your throat, or both, and when you glanced down for just a moment, you could see the faint patch of pre-cum soaking through his pants already.
The self-restraint he was showing was so unlike him. It was so unlike the impatient, passionate man who liked to go down on you for hours, then fuck you raw until you were screaming, never wasting a second between rounds to worship at the altar of your body like the devout Catholic the cross around his neck made him seem to be. Except that in the bedroom, right now and any other day, the only entity he truly worshiped was you.
It was torture of the highest order, to be watched—no, ogled, and not touched, or kissed, or even loved.
Again, your hips shifted. Your other hand trailed down from where you were gripping the sheets so tightly to the pulsing bundle of nerves that felt just as neglected as the rest of you—neglected and on fire, burning all over the more his eyes bore into yours. You could not come from the toy alone, not without a hand to touch you anywhere else, anywhere at all, and Rafael knew that. He always knew that because he knew you better than he knew even himself.
He licked his lips, the sound almost as obscene as the wetness between your thighs. "Don't," the word came out in a puff of air, a warning, but he did not move, that bastard.
Your hand stopped just over your mound, and the whimper you let out was downright pathetic.
"Please," you begged again.
"Please what?"
"Please, I need—" You choked on a moan, the vibrations settling deeper into your walls, yet never quite getting you there. You wished it were his cock, dragging in and out of you, filling you until all you could feel was him.
"Mh. What?" Rafael took a sip of Scotch. "Use your words, cariño. What do you need?"
His voice sounded so much softer. For a moment there, you actually thought he would have mercy on you.
Oh, how wrong you were.
Your lips parted in a desperate plea, "Touch me," you begged, your hand reaching out for him.
He appeared to think about it, elbows braced on his knees, but his answer was as clear as day, "No."
You'd only wanted to touch yourself until he got home; that was what you kept telling yourself. You'd wanted to get the edge off until he could spread your legs himself and make you come until your legs were shaking and the sheets were soaked through. You'd wanted to imagine bouncing on his cock while fucking yourself with your vibrator because he'd told you he would be home late, and you knew what that meant. He'd told you not to wait up for him, so you'd felt like you had no other choice but to take matters into your own hands until he would finally have time for you again.
Rafael Barba was the last man to ever judge you for taking care of yourself. He encouraged it, even, but tonight… Oh, tonight, he was a changed man, more pent-up than usual, and he was going to make you suffer for making him find you like that—for not telling him. It was punishment, it was torture, and yes, it was fucking vulnerable to expose yourself like this in front of him, with your legs spread wide and a vibrator buried inside your pussy, but, like the needy little thing you were, you just couldn't get enough of it. For the first time in a week, you had his undivided attention, and it felt good.
He recognized the slight uptick in your already labored breathing. "You close?" he asked.
You barely managed a nod.
"Good." Rafael emptied his glass in one sip, and then, "Stop."
You almost cried out of sheer frustration.
"Turn it off."
You did.
His lips quirked into a smirk. "Good girl."
You moaned. It was an instinctual response; those two godforsaken words were nearly enough to make you come right then and there. You weren't proud of it, not at all, but they did something to you, or perhaps it was the way he said it with just the slightest crack of his voice that told you that he was about to fold—that you were about to get your sweet, sweet reward for being so patient, his good fucking girl.
Rafael reached for his cufflinks as he rose from his seat, revealing his forearms, his tan skin, and the veins stretching all the way to his knuckles, appearing much more prominent in the soft lamplight. You had a weak spot for his hands, his arms, and everything else, really. You could never get enough of him.
He fiddled with his cufflinks agonizingly slowly, watching as you writhed under his gaze, the vibrator off but still inside you, and every twitch of your hips forced it a little deeper, a little closer to where you wished he was instead.
"Pull it out," he told you, his voice calm but wavering. When you didn't comply, too hazy and stubborn to do so, he sighed and tugged at the base of the vibrator until your cunt was painfully empty, and he was holding it in his hand. There it was again, that smirk.
He was so close now. You reached out, your fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt. You stared into his green eyes, the way they gazed upon you, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. You reached higher in the hopes of maybe, just maybe, touching his cheek, or pulling him down for a kiss. For a second, he seemed to consider it, too, his lips parting in the softest, barely audible sigh, but before he could cave too soon, he pulled away again.
"Rafa, c'mon," you tried.
He shushed you. "Almost," he said. He switched the toy back on. "Hold it. Right there," and he placed the tip of it against your clit.
You cried out. Your head fell back into the pillows, your back arching as lightning struck, and the wave of an orgasm approached at a force you did not anticipate. Your hand wrapped around the base of the toy instinctively, around Rafael's wrist, and your legs drew closed at the sheer force of it all.
He clicked his tongue, forcing your legs apart. "Don't hide from me," he said.
His name turned into gibberish on your tongue. You were so close…
"Fuck," it was the most coherent word you could choke out, a warning.
"Don't come yet."
"Rafa."
"Shh," he shushed again. "I know. I know… Just hold it for me, mi amor."
His hand slipped from yours. You were still holding the toy against your clit—how could you not?—but he was no longer close to you. Instead, he stepped back.
He stepped back, pulled his suspenders down, followed by the button on his slacks, then the zipper until he had enough space to free his aching cock from its confines, and oh, you could not look away. It was leaking already, hard and thick as it rested in the palm of his hand, and you watched almost in awe as he started jerking off to the mere sight of you and your cunt clenching around nothing. Finally, you thought, it was your favorite movie to watch.
Rafael shook his head, only the faintest twitch, but you saw it. You wanted to be good, you really did, but it was killing you. Your orgasm was an avalanche about to crash in, and you had no control over it, none.
You breathed his name again. "I can't—"
"Yes, you can," he said. "Focus."
But watching him stroke his cock was too much to bear.
"Look at me."
Your eyes fluttered open.
"Focus on me," he said. "That's it. That's my girl."
One.
Two.
Three.
Four seconds passed. Four seconds that felt like four hours or four days before, finally, he said, "Come."
You came so hard you swore you must have passed out, for when the stars and the galaxies behind your eyes stopped dancing, your walls stopped fluttering, the vibrator rolled from your limp hand, and his name turned into a helpless whisper from your lips, he was right there on his knees next to the bed, kissing you, finally, as he came, too.
"I love you," was what he said—what he moaned into your skin like a permanent tattoo.
"I know," you whispered back, cupping the back of his head and bringing him in for another kiss, his lips hot and wet against your own.
A beat passed, then two. Your heartbeats aligned. His head dropped down against your bare shoulder, breathing from his lungs into yours, and you, too, told him, "I love you," because God, you'd never loved anyone more than him, and you never would.
Prompt: “Can you be good for me?” as part of the #SexySeptemberScribble challenge hosted by @societyfolklore and @soelstress.
WC: 394 (whoops, I went over).
The late afternoon sun bled gold through the trees, striping the garden path in light and shadow. Your sundress swayed with every step — airy, floral, the kind of dangerous soft that Rafael should not be looking at. But he was. God help him, he was.
“Slow down,” he murmured behind you, though his voice wasn’t quite steady. You pretended not to hear, leaning over to touch a pale rose in bloom. The hemline shifted upwards against the back of your thighs. You knew what you were doing.
When he caught up, his palm found the small of your back. He brushed against you, the black fabric stark against your bare skin. His breath was right at your ear.
“Can you be good for me?”
You tilted your head slightly toward him, your lips brushing the air between you. “It’s just a sundress, Fr. Rafael. You’re overreacting.”
He gave a low, almost dangerous laugh. “Don’t play coy with me.”
You straightened slowly, forcing him to step back. But you didn’t walk away; instead you drifted toward the side of the rectory porch where the shadows were longer, the view hidden from the garden path. He followed. He always followed.
When you stopped, you felt him behind you before he even touched you - the heat of him, the way the air seemed to charge. His hands slid to your hips, fingers curling in the loose cotton of your dress. The world narrowed to the sound of yours and his breaths. The sun caught in his salt and pepper hair, the scent of incense and his cologne wrapped around you like a warm hug.
“God forgive me,” he whispered, before pressing his lips to the back of your neck, causing you to arch into him, your skin goose bumping in response. Heat shot down and pooled low in your belly.
Your fingers gripped the porch railing. His body fit to yours like a truth neither of you were ready to speak out loud. And for a moment, with the wind teasing the hem of your sundress, it felt like the two of you could disappear into that gold-lit moment and never be found.
Slowly, you turned to face him. Your eyes met his, just as blown with lust as yours. “Lying is a sin, Father. You’re not sorry. Not even a little bit.”
August is halfway over! Summer is basically done! And we love to run bingos for longer than 4 weeks in this house!
Since I've been focused on other things I've really been missing out on the interactions and such from y'all, so I'm hosting (and will be writing in) Kinktober Bingo! I'm posting now for y'all to have plenty of time to plan, send and receive requests and the like! <3
Submissions can be anything, a mood board, ficlet, headcanons, drabbles, gif sets, one shot, social media au's, literally whatever you want!
Read the rest of the rules under the cut!
Fics written can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, complete original work, basically whatever you want to do, do! Mix and match, stick with one, try out something new! It's all fun here!
-Make srue to include any and all appropriate warnings and tags at the TOP of the post!
Accepted characters:
Literally EVERYTHING. All fandoms, all characters, literally whatever the heck you want to write, you get to write. Some examples;
-Law and Order (OG, OC, SVU)
-Criminal Minds
-Grey's Anatomy
-911
-Marvel Universe
-One Chicago
-NCIS
-Once Upon A Time
-The Pitt
These are just examples, everything and anything is welcome! :)
Rules:
You must tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hastag #soskinktober25 on each creation and I will do my best to compile everything into a masterlist by the end of the bingo
Bingo begins Sept 14th and runs all the way to November 3rd. Gives us lots of time to plan, write and have fun with things.
You may only submit/post ONE creation PER DAY. And only one square per creation
18+ only participation! No minors please, this is an adult space and a very adult bingo
No underage characters/readers/OC's. If you're working with a fandom/show that is set in high school, either rethink it or age them up to be in college
Tag all and every warning appropriate at the top of the fic. and absolutely NO censoring! I don't want to see any tik tok style #s3x kinda shit. This is tumblr and literally kinktober, use your fucking words. Esp in tags.
Anything over 1000 words MUST be under a readmore
ABSOLUTELY NO AI CREATED WORK ALLOWED!!
If you have any questions feel free to message me!!
Tagging some people I think might be interested! Everyone 18+ is welcome, you do not have to be tagged to participate! <3
