#short short

[delicious-dream-before-the-storm]

When shorts are really short

[quinloki]

Big Stretch

>.>

<.<

Cw: afab reader, rough sex, forced orgasm, cream pie, bdsm, biting

I didn’t mean to get quite so detailed, but it happens sometimes.

Sitting here day dreaming about Marco (or Sabo or Kid honestly), holding your legs open, hands at your thighs, almost to your knees, pressing them into the mattress and really stretching them open.

Only to lean down and bite that tender flesh of your inner thigh on one side, making you squeal and buck and squirm. Your arms are stretched up over your head, shoulders almost aching from the taut position you’re held in, whimpering voice oozing from behind the gag.

The wet tongue that soothes that bite, before they push the vibrator buried in your sopping cunt deeper with their teeth, making you squeal for a different reason before giving you matching set of teeth marks on your other inner thigh.

You’re crying and whimpering and begging and gods you’re so close to cumming and you just want to. You want to cum because you know after that first one he’ll take the toy out and really give you a nice, long, thick, proper stretch inside.

Without a word of warning he sucks your clit into his mouth, teeth dangerously tender against it until he’s sucking on it like he’d died without it. The rip of pleasure has your feet kicking uselessly the majority of your body pinned desperately in place and your fingers and toes dance madly when you finally cum, all that energy having no where else to go.

Your pussy throbbing so hard you eject the vibrating toy, and he pays it no mind, burying his twitching cock to the hilt inside you before you’ve even begun to come down from things. The raw scream is rough and grunted against the gag, and his lips are against your tit as wet, messy thrusts fill the air with sharp slaps.

He sates himself with your body, kissing and licking sweat from your skin while he uses slow movements to bring himself back to hardness inside you. The frothy squelch of his cum dribbles out past your lips and the rough touch of his pubes tickle your clit.

You did so good, enduring that.

Being used like that.

How sweet you sang for him, and how much he knows you loved it.

Don’t worry, he’ll make you cum until your bones are jelly, and then next time, he’ll tie you down so completely you won’t be able to even wiggle your toes. And he’ll add more toys so you cum

Again and again

Even while he’s pounding into you. Unable to escape the ecstasy you deserve for even a moment.

[brunettemarionette]

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬? ─⋅⋆⁺✩

drabble (100 wc)

'imagine' (for me usually around 400 wc)

double drabble (200 wc)

triple drabble (300 wc)

bullet point headcanons

one-shot

two-shot/three-shot

short fic (500-1000 wc)

multi-chapter fic

long fic

other (please comment 🙏🏻)

Voting ended onMar 17

If anyone wants to know the general length of fics or description I found this!

[i-have-never-seen-arcane]

I keep seeing short hair viktor content what are you people doing

[nana-mizu-shiki]

It good. Read. Kudo. Do it.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

★ MLB Masterpost: https://www.tumblr.com/nana-mizu-shiki/783026228099694592/mlb-fic-recs?source=share

[mata-com]

[hhimring]

Melting into Slush

After the slaying of Brodda, the stronger among the rebels who aided Turin are driven to take up a life as fugitives in the mountains of Dor-lomin in the middle of a grim winter.  Asgon is their leader or one of their leaders.

(Fixed-length drabble; Teens)

Asgon regarded the wet, large snowflakes falling into the slush, melting. Meltwater was already beginning to trickle in rivulets down the mountain slope as the morning advanced. There had been signs previously that the winter was failing at last, but Asgon had watched them dully and distrustfully. Winter had been too long, too treacherous, too hard. Now at last he began hoping that his little band of outlaws might survive into spring without any more deaths.

He wondered how Turin was doing. The journey south must have been equally dangerous, but surely Hurin’s son still lived.  But to what fortune?

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