autumn.

queer | she | i write about a lot of different things and sometimes also make edits :)

[wistful-poet00]

pairing: simon riley x f!reader

✷ nsfw, p-in-v, oral, overstim, degradation.

you shouldn’t have said it.

you knew you shouldn’t have said it.

but simon had just pulled off you, mouth wet, slight scruff all shiny, smug as hell.

your body was still boneless, twitching from your second orgasm, and your brain felt all mushy.

you blinked at him through heavy lashes. wrinkled your nose and mumbled:

“ew, you’re stinky.. you smell like me..”

simon stopped wiping his mouth.

his jaw ticked.

“...stinky?”

your smile faltered. “I-I was just teasing...”

he leaned in slowly, palm heavy on your stomach, holding you down as he crawled over you again.

“y’were begging for it a minute ago, and now I’m the one who’s stinky?”

“n-no—si, I was jok—!”

he didn’t let you finish, just grabbed your thighs, pushed them up to your chest and slipped his thick cock inside you in one deep, punishing thrust.

you squealed, hands flying to his shoulders. “Si—!”

“gonna teach you some fuckin’ manners,” he growled, pulling out just enough before slamming back in, rough and steady. “actin’ like a fuckin’ brat when I was down there takin’ care of you,”

you clawed at his back.

“i’m sorry i’m sorry—!”

“too late now, baby,” simon growled. “shoulda kept that sweet mouth shut.”

his thrusts were relentless, deep and sharp, every word punctuated by a roll of his hips.

“not very stinky when I’m fuckin’ the ungratefulness outta you, am I?”

you sobbed. “nooo—!”

“damn right.”

one hand came up to your jaw, thumb in your mouth as he fucked you harder, making your eyes roll back.

“uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck the brat out of you, c'mon now, lemme see your eyes, pretty girl”

you obeyed, forcing your glossy eyes open, drooling and whimpering around his thumb

“there she is, my sweet lil mess. talkin’ shit one minute, cryin’ the next…”

you couldn’t speak.

could barely breathe.

your orgasm hit violently, your whole body seizing up around him, toes curling, legs shaking, voice breaking on his name.

simon didn’t slow down.

didn’t stop.

just smirked above you, breath hot against your ear.

“still think i’m stinky, baby?”

you sobbed out a pitiful little “n-no...” wrapping your legs around his torso, pulling him closer as you whined and whimpered.

and he kissed your cheek.

“didn’t think so.”

[wistful-poet00]

⸸ Claimed by the Unseen ⸸

Pairing: Invisible Entities x F!Reader

𓄿 : Very NSFW.

𓇼 : Monster smut, size kink, voyeurism, heavy dub-con theme, invisible/infernal entity, portal kink, creampie, oral, overstimulation.

Feel free to block if you do not enjoy this type of content.

Maybe you should’ve listened to the warnings.

But the listing was cheap. Unbelievably cheap. Rent-controlled, too. A one-bedroom apartment in the city with working water, a deep bathtub, and crown molding. You were not in the position to ask why.

They said the bathroom was “haunted.”

You thought: hmm, dramatic... you didn’t think it would be ‘portal to a realm of unseen hung monsters’ dramatic

The water always ran a little too hot. The mirror never stayed fogged. And something always.. watched you?

Not in the obvious way. It wasn’t creepy-crawly. Not at first at least.

It started with little things. Shivers when there was no breeze. Steam curling along your body like hands. Whispers when your fingers dipped between your thighs, soft pants echoing yours. You thought you were imagining it. Lonely. Touch-starved. Overworked.

Then came the day it touched you.

You’d just finished work. It was late, your feet sore. You peeled off your clothes slowly, one strap of your bra sliding over your round shoulder, then the other. Your thighs rubbed as you stepped into the tub. You bent to turn the tap, hot water sluiced down your back, and that’s when it started.

A brush... not of air, but presence. Fingers, not wind. Right across your ass.

You squeaked and stood up straight, spinning around, arms covering your chest. Nothing. Just steam. Empty. Silent.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“...hello?”

A deep vibration rumbled through the tiles. It wasn’t a voice, it was, for the lack of better words, like someone humming between your legs.

Something slid across your inner thigh.

You gasped.

Invisible. Solid. Slick. Huge.

You stumbled back, your spine pressing to the cool tile. The heat of the water masked its presence, but you felt it, like the air itself was bracing you open, curious, hungry.

“What is going on,” you whispered, breath shaking.

Shyness burned your cheeks. But your thighs stayed spread.

The pressure returned up your leg, lifting, pushing.

Suddenly, your feet weren’t touching the tub floor anymore.

It pinned you there, hips hovering, ass suspended in the air by nothing. Your legs dangled uselessly. Something thick pressed between your cheeks, hot and pulsing. Another something traced along your slit, a whimper escaped your lips.

It didn’t ask permission.

You moaned as it split you open, stretching you wider than any toy, any man. It was slick, like it had prepped itself for you, or had been watching, waiting, for weeks.

Your cunt clenched and drooled around the unfamiliar shape, its ridges dragged along your walls as it pushed inside.

“F-fuck—” your voice broke.

Your little whimpers echoed off the tile. The mirror across from you refused to fog. You could see yourself —flushed, panting, tits bouncing as it fucked into you, invisible but unmistakably there.

You watched your stretched cunt being wrecked by an invisible entity.

You were being used.

Stretched. Pumped. Split open by something that didn’t breathe, didn’t pause, didn’t even have a name you could speak but you loved it.

It knew your body. Knew the places to rub inside you. The bundle of nerves at your clit. The spot that made your legs jerk uncontrollably.

You’d never been so full. So wrecked.

“Please—” you begged.

It growled low. Not a sound, but a vibration. Between your ribs. In your pelvis.

Another “cock” pushed against your lips. Your mouth.

You moaned around it instinctively, tongue wrapping, throat opening. It forced deeper. No time to adjust. You couldn’t even breathe. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, running hot down your cheeks.

You were spitroasted by a presence. Lifted and split and claimed.

Your own juices mixed with the water, dribbling down your thighs.

And the worst part? You loved it.

Hot cum filled your mouth & pussy, so much you felt bloated. It dripped down your thighs, across the tile.

You came hard. Clenching, spasming, eyes rolling. But it didn’t stop. The fucking never stopped. Not until it was satisfied.

You were dropped gently after. lowered to the tub floor, trembling. Marked. Bred. Claimed.

[wistful-poet00]

fae boyfriend x reader, no actual smut.

this was actually inspired by @monstersflashlight !! ^^

you were supposed to put a sex ban on your fae boyfriend after an argument, but let's be honest, he's a cheeky bastard, and you both know he always gets his way.

he doesn't even have to try hard, one look.. those sharp, mesmerizing green eyes, and your resolve starts to crumble..

then come the ears: slender, pointed, almost cat-like, twitching with unspoken emotion. it's not just a plea, it's calculated.. but in the most charming way possible. his pale skin tinges with the softest blush across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, making him look all the more irresistible.

"please, baby?" he whispers, brushing his fingers along your cheek with maddening tenderness. his sage-green hair falls into place like it’s a part of the act, effortless, perfect, and entirely unfair.

you sigh, already knowing you've lost.

[wistful-poet00]

Isn't a hybrid just a kemonomimi and not a monster? If it's just a human with animal ears + a tail, that's not really teratophilia. There is a term for that already called kemonomimi

hii :)) I totally get what you mean! for me, the characters I write usually have more non-human traits than just animal ears and a tail

I don't always describe every detail of their appearance because I like leaving some of it up to the reader's imagination as everyone pictures things differently, and that's part of the fun! a lot of writers in the community include teratophilia as part of their hybrid or non-human characters, and I do too! I think it really comes down to how each person sees it !! ^^

[wistful-poet00]

bat hybrid!boyfriend x f!reader, nsfw.

bat hybrid!boyfriend who loves to give you head while hanging upside down like it's his favorite hobby.

you try to unbuckle his belt so that he'd enjoy this too but he smacks away your hands like, "nuh-uh, I'm having my meal."

he gets off on eating you out, fully living his best life between your legs, just munching away, what more could he possibly need?

he whimpers as he's slurping away loudly and shamelessly like he's been starved for days.

his wings twitch every time you moan, like boy's about to take flight from sheer excitement.

he's a menace but he's your menace ♡

[wistful-poet00]

I don't really expect anyone to stumble across this, but if you did, hey there! I just wanted to quickly ramble about the writing slump I've been in lately.. life's been kind of a lot, and on top of everything, the creative spark's been flickering a bit.

so, yeah, things are moving slow for now. i'm hoping to get back at writing soon though. anyways, thank you if anyone bothered to read this, seriously... <3 <3

i'll see you soon 🤍

also, happy pride month even though I'm very very late 🏳️‍🌈🫶🏽

[wistful-poet00]

loser!demon boyfriend x reader, fluff, mentions of love making but no smut!

♡ | diary of the pathetic men — exhibit : ii

your demon boyfriend is the biggest loser (said lovingly) you've ever known.

It's genuinely not even a joke anymore, you've never seen a being so terrifying yet simultaneously so whipped..

this man (well, a demon technically, but you know..) is ancient, mighty, feared across realms! yet, when you so much as sniffle, he looks like he's two seconds away from declaring a war on pollen.

he could rule countries, humans, command legions, but when it comes to his mortal squishy lovebug, he will:

- carve your name into obsidian with the tip of his claw just to doodle little hearts around it

- wait patiently outside the shower with a towel warmed by hellfire because, in his own words, "your mortal towels are inferior, beloved."

- manipulate the weather because you said you missed the rain.

- and my personal favorite, make his eyes glow red when someone as much as gives you a funny look at the farmers market.

this man once vaporized a lesser demon just because he said "humans are fragile" because again, in his own words, "my human is a goddess in flesh! watch your tongue or get sent into the void."

if there's anything in the universe- no, the multiverse, he would get on his knees for, it's you. the other demons always whisper around about it, even call him names such as "mortal obsessed" & "lovestruck lord" but they don't get it, they don't get you.

they haven't seen the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, they haven't seen the way you look at him with so much love especially when he's on his true form, they haven't heard how you whisper his name like it's something sacred when he's making love to you, they haven't felt your smaller, softer hand reaching out to hold onto his clawed one, completely unafraid.

they don't know what it feels like to be loved fully for exactly who you are, to be looked at like you're more than just a monster you've always been told you're supposed to be.

so, sure, to many, he's pathetically in love with you but he wouldn't want it any other way.

[wistful-poet00]

i miss joel so much...

just thinking of joel being the type to not know how to approach reader so when he finds a trinket that reminds him of her, he attempts to give it to her...

you see him everywhere.

at the stables, trading with Tommy, by the gates, checking patrol lists, leaning against the fencepost outside the Tipsy Bison, that serious look on his face, arms crossed like he's waiting for someone but never says who.

you never talk to him. you don't even look for long. not really. not because you don't want to but because you don't know how, you're, well.. awkward to say the least..

you just sort of... hope he looks first.

but he never does.

until one day, he does?

you're by the greenhouse, sorting through damaged tools, sleeves rolled up to your elbows and dirt caked beneath your nails. It's late. sky pink. a breeze moves the trees like they're whispering something you can't hear.

you don't see him approach, just feel it. a shift in the air. a heavier set of footsteps. when you look up, Joel Miller is right in front of you, hands at his sides, watching you like he’s been standing there a while.

you blink. "uhm.. hi?"

he doesn't say hi back.

just steps a little closer, then holds something out in his hand.

his palm is rough, callused, and in the center of it lies a small, crooked metal pin in the shape that's supposed to be a flower (?) (you think, at least..) bent, rusted around the edges, shaped vaguely like a bird mid-flight. maybe it used to be from a denim jacket. maybe it meant something once.

you stare at it, then up at him.

Joel clears his throat, gruff. "thought you'd like it.."

your lips part. he doesn't offer anything more. no explanation. no smile.

just that single, mumbled line, like it's been burning a hole in his coat pocket for days.

you take it with careful fingers. It's warm from his hand.

"...thank you," you say softly. "it's really pretty."

Joel shifts his weight, still watching you. you realize suddenly that his ears are pink.

"...found it during a patrol" he mutters. "could've left it. wasn't much. just figured-" He stops, jaw tight. "-reminded me of you. that's all."

you feel like someone’s knocked the wind out of you.

reminded him of you.

you've barely said ten words to him in total. you're quiet. you're not like the women who talk to him at the bar, confident and teasing and sure of themselves. you avoid eye contact. (not in a pick-me girl way, sorry, I just can't write a line like that without cringing a little..) you keep your head down.

and somehow, he still noticed.

your voice barely works when you reply.

"reminded you of me?"

he doesn't back down from your gaze. It's slow, the way he tilts his head. measured. like he’s trying not to spook you.

"s'pretty," he says.

your breath catches.

"and a little bent outta shape."

that earns a soft laugh from you, surprised, quiet, fond. joel huffs a smile, like maybe he was hoping for that exact sound.

he nods once, gruff again. "alright then." and then he turns and walks off. not expecting anything. not asking for anything.

just leaves you standing there, heart in your throat, clutching the crooked little bird-like-flower pin like it’s the most valuable thing you own.

[wistful-poet00]

Hypersexuality comfort fic? If not, that's 100% okay, I just can't find any.

thank you for making a request, I just wanted to clarify, I'm not very experienced on this topic but I've read up the basics and tried my best to write something thoughtful, I apologize in advance if I've gotten anything wrong, please feel free to let me know if I did, I will delete this immediately.. with that being said, I appreciate you reading! ^^

non specificed reader x f!vampire girlfriend, fluff, bubble bath!! 🫧🫧

you felt fidgety, restless in your own skin. like your nerves were pressing up against the inside of you, clawing for something, for comfort, distraction, anything to quiet the hum in your chest.

your eyes flicked toward her. she looked relaxed, reading on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, moonlight pooling on her pale-almost-ghost-like-skin like it belonged there. you swallowed.

"should i go to her?"

"should I touch her?"

"should I try?"

the urge hit you like it always did, a reflex born of habit and hope, sometimes anxiety. If you just kissed her, maybe it would be okay. If you touched her, maybe you'd feel less loud inside. maybe you wouldn't feel so...

"too much." (?)

your breath hitched. but what if she thought that you were being too much already?

what if you were suffocating her with how much you needed her, with how often you reached for her?

what if-

"baby?"

her voice broke through the static in your head, soft and grounding. you blinked and looked up.

she was watching you with gentle concern, book forgotten, her head tilted slightly like she was trying to read past your face into your heart. she opened one arm without a word.

you crossed the room before you could think yourself out of it, sinking beside her, then slowly into her arms.

you leaned in to kiss her, maybe she wanted that, maybe she expected it, maybe it would make you feel-

but just as your lips brushed hers, she brought her hand up, resting it gently on your cheek. not pushing. just holding.

"wait," she whispered, pulling back slightly, just enough to breathe the words into the space between you. "let me ask you something.”

you blinked, startled by the tenderness in her tone.

"do you want to be close...?" she murmured, brushing her thumb along your cheekbone, "or do you feel like you have to be?"

It was so quiet, but it hit you like thunder.

your mouth opened, but no words came. a flush crawled up your neck, your chest tightening with something sharp and hot and familiar.

"I-I just thought maybe you wanted—"

"shhh," she soothed, guiding your head to her shoulder. "there's nothing wrong with wanting me. but I don't want you to feel like that's the only way to be close."

your fingers clenched in her shirt. "I don't know how to stop.. sometimes it's just easier to try than sit in my own head. I feel like I'm too much. I know it's probably exhausting-"

"hey," she cut in, soft but firm, "you are never too much for me."

that undid you.

the tears came without warning, hot and fast, slipping down your cheeks as you buried your face in her shoulder. she didn't hush you or try to make you explain. she just held you.

for minutes or maybe hours, you were simply wrapped in her.. her cool skin against your warmth, her hands stroking your back, her lips brushing your temple like a prayer.

when your breathing finally started to calm, she kissed the top of your head.

"look at me?" she said gently. "I'm running you a bath."

you blinked up at her. "wha-why?”

"because your body's tired. your heart's been loud. and you deserve to feel soft and cared for, even when you're not doing anything to 'earn' it."

you couldn't argue with that. not when she was already guiding you by the hand into the bathroom.

she ran the water warm, not too hot, and added your favorite bubbles without asking. the scent filled the air, calming and familiar. she helped you undress if you let her, slowly, respectfully, never with the implication of more, just comfort.

once you were in the tub, she sat beside it, sleeves rolled up, her fingers lazily trailing through the bubbles across your shoulders.

no pressure. no expectations. no lust... just care.

"you don't t have to be anything right now," she murmured. "just be here. let me love you like this."

and for the first time in days, maybe weeks, your chest didn't feel quite so tight.

[wistful-poet00]

Could you please write something, Some comfort for people who experienced non-Con? If your uncomfortable with it you don't have to, I would just like to see more comfort spread around.

of course I can, thank you for sending this ask ^^

orc boyfriend x reader, hurt-to-comfort, fluff, past mentions of SA.

tonight was supposed to be movie night.

you and your orc boyfriend who you've been with for about six months now had settled into your usual spot on the couch. the lights were low, a cheesy romcom flickering on the TV, and his strong arms were wrapped gently around you, his warmth grounding you in the present. it felt safe. comfortable.

it always did, with him.

he never asked for more than what you offered. never pressured, never hinted. every step in your relationship was taken at your pace, and even if he ever did grow frustrated with how slowly you moved, he never showed it. he was patient... gods, he was so patient. you were grateful, even if a part of you still felt broken for needing that kind of patience in the first place.

things felt normal tonight. soft kisses turned deeper, his palm cupping your cheek, his tusks brushing your skin as he murmured your name between breaths.

and then—

his hand slipped under the hem of your shirt. just slightly. just enough.

and your body reacted before your mind could catch up.

you flinched, pushed him away.

the kiss broke. the warmth disappeared. a cloud of tension seeped into the air, panic surged in your chest and before he could even register what happened, you were already scrambling off the couch and locking yourself in the bedroom.

the quiet that followed was suffocating. the shame louder than any argument could've been.

you pressed your back to the door, arms wrapped around yourself as your breath hitched, heart hammering painfully in your chest. you hated this. hated how fast your mind could spiral, hated that even now, even after everything...

you were still scared of being touched.

your ex's voice echoes in your memory like a ghost.

"don't be dramatic."

"I didn't even do anything."

"why do you always have to ruin everything?"

a soft knock snaps you back to reality.

then his voice, gentle and confused. "baby? I have no idea what I did wrong but... please, let's talk about it, okay? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset, I swear."

more silence followed, you wanted to say something. anything.

but the words tangled in your throat.

he waited. patiently. long enough for him to hear the soft sobs you were trying so hard to muffle. that was when his voice changed, still soft, but aching now.

"oh, sweetheart…"

there was a pause.

then: "I'm gonna sit out here, okay? you don't have to open the door. I'll just be here."

and he was. you could hear him lower himself to the floor, his heavy body leaning gently against the other side of the door. for a long time, there was nothing but the soft hum of the TV in the background, the rhythm of your uneven breathing, and his steady presence.

until finally, your voice broke through the quiet. small. fragile.

"It's not you."

he waited, let you find your words.

"my ex... they weren't good to me," you said, the truth falling out in pieces. "they didn't listen. they didn't stop when I asked. and now, even when I know you're not them, even when I want to be close, my body just... panics. I'm sorry..."

sillence, for a beat.

then he replied, voice rough with emotion, "thank you for telling me."

you heard the sincerity in his tone and felt it, like a balm on an old wound.

"I hate that someone made you feel that way," he added. "you didn't do anything wrong. you never have to apologize for protecting yourself. ever."

tears welled again, but they were different this time. you felt relieved, comforted.

"you mean that?"

"of course I do. I care about you. I'm in this with you.. not just the fun parts, all of it. If all we ever do is kiss, that's enough for me. If it takes years, I'll wait. and if you ever need space, I'll give it."

you cracked the door open just enough to peek through and his eyes found yours instantly, worried and gentle.

“you really don't mind?" you whispered.

a faint smile pulled at his lips. "I'd sit outside a thousand doors if it meant you felt safe."

and gods, his words made something inside you break and heal at the same time.

you opened the door all the way.

he didn't pull you into his arms, not yet.. he waited and he let you close the distance. and when you finally stepped into his arms, pressing your face into his broad chest, his touch was warm and safe and steady.

no rush. no pressure.

just love and patience.

[wistful-poet00]

simon riley x f!reader, lactation kink, slight dub-con, filthy smut.

you're in the bedroom, shirt off, pump attached to both breasts, the rhythmic whirr-click, whirr-click filling the air.

you're sore, heavy, leaking too much and in need of relief.

but you forgot to lock the door. you never learn.

it creaks open behind you, and you don't even have to look to know it's him. that low grunt, that slow inhale, like he just walked in on his favorite fantasy...

Simon.

"goddamn," he breathes, shutting the door behind him. "look at you..."

you glance over your shoulder. "simon— can I just—please, I need to finish—"

"oh, you will finish, darling," he growls, already undoing his belt. "just not the way you planned."

you open your mouth to protest, but he's already behind you, tugging your pants down, hands gripping your hips like he owns them. the pump keeps going, suction pulling milk from your swollen tits as simon slides into you from behind, thick and hot and deep.

your knees nearly buckle. "si—"

"shhh," he grunts, thrusting slow and filthy. "you just keep pumpin' baby. don't let it stop."

milk spurts into the bottles as simon fucks you, hands bruising your hips, watching the way your tits bounce with each thrust, pump still working your nipples, pulling every drop out like you're being milked in more ways than one.

"look at this," he groans, leaning over your back, his hand sliding to one of the bottles. "so full for me. all this milk, all this body.. all mine."

he twists your nipple gently where it's suctioned in, grinning at the helpless moan that escapes you.

"bet you're close, huh? all stretched out, leakin', and whinin', with me buried so deep, fucking you so good, bet your brain is all fuzzy, can't even think straight? just the way I like you."

you're crying out now, barely holding onto the dresser, pumps still working, his thick tip hitting that spot over and over.

and when you come?

it's messy. loud. milk spilling, simon growling behind you as he pumps you full again, spilling deep, hips grinding slow through your orgasm.

you slump forward, breathless, pump still attached and bottles nearly full.

simon kisses your neck, still inside you, voice low and smug.

"don't think I'm done, mama. might just need a taste straight from the source next..."

[wistful-poet00]

orc boyfriend x fem!reader, smut, messy.

you always knew your orc boyfriend was a sloppy eater. he drooled, growled, tore into his food like it owed him something — but gods, he was your favorite mess.

what you didn't know was how filthy he'd get when it was you he was hungry for.

you barely made it three steps into the house after work, your clothes clinging to your sweaty skin, hair stuck to your neck, when you heard his heavy footsteps. before you could say a word, he had you pinned against the wall, inhaling deeply like your scent alone could get him drunk.

"fuck... you smell ripe," he growled, voice thick with hunger. "don't shower. don't you dare wash this off."

"can I at least–" you tried, but he was already dropping to his knees, yanking your pants and underwear down in one rough motion.

He shoved his face into your pussy, groaning like a beast in heat. "been thinkin' about this all day. Needed to taste you like this — sweaty, worked up... fuck, you smell so good."

you gasped as his tongue flattened against your folds, dragging slow and filthy. he lapped at you like he was starving, moaning into your cunt, mouth so wet and messy it had your thighs shaking in seconds.

"god," you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair. "you're making such a mess.."

he pulled back just enough to speak, his mouth slick with spit and you. "good. wanna drown in it. you want me messy, don't you? want me to lick this pussy clean till you're cryin' my name?"

then he dove back in, tongue fucking you deep while his thumb circled your clit. "tastes better than anything i've ever hunted. better than blood, better than meat. this—" he growled, licking up a fresh drip, "—this is what I was made for."

[wistful-poet00]

werewolf boyfriend x fem!reader, smut, he's being a meanie.

your werewolf boyfriend is the sweetest guy you've ever dated. that is, until you decide to act like a brat. you're not even sure why you did it, why you said the things you said, why you acted the way you did.. but in your defense, your monthly cycle is about to end. you're on edge, cranky, and a little volatile. It happens.

"this what you wanted, huh?" he growls, sliding his leaky tip along your slit, sending a shiver down your spine.

"just put it in," you whine.

that earns you a sharp smack on your clit.

"is that how you ask for things?" he snarls. "you wanted to act like a brat, so I'm treating you like one. you did this to yourself, so now fucking take it."

"y-you're being so mean—"

before you can finish, he slides his cock all the way in, making you gasp. he chuckles low and cruel. "you don't even know what mean is, baby."

you try to thrust back into him, desperate for more, but his grip tightens around your hips.

"nuh-uh," he hisses. "you only take what I give you."

he bends you into the meanest mating press, drawing back to the tip. "aw, look at that—she's winking at me," he says with a smirk, making you wince at the emptiness.

then he slams back in with ease, knocking the breath from your lungs.

and just like that, the brat in you is silenced, and you are ruined by the one man who always finishes what you start.

[wistful-poet00]

fem!bunny hybrid x fem!reader, smut, wlw.

the woods had grown silent, except for the occasional hoot of an owl and the steady thud of your heartbeat. you settled into your tent for the night, nestled in your sleeping bag, warm and relaxed... until that sound. A faint rustle. A snap. then... a whimper. not animalistic, too soft, too human.

your body tensed.

curiosity and something deeper nudged you toward the source. you unzipped the tent slowly and stepped out into the cool night. that's when you saw her.

crouched under a tree, curled into herself like a frightened animal. her long fluffy ears drooped, her body trembling. a bunny-hybrid. fragile. gorgeous. practically glowing under the moonlight.

you approached cautiously, then gently rested your hand on her quivering shoulder. she flinched and turned, eyes wide. when her gaze met yours, she whimpered again.

"p-please... help me," she squeaked, voice high and trembling with need.

your breath caught. "what's wrong?"

she hesitated, her cheeks darkening with shame. "I... I'm in heat."

that admission hit you low in your belly.

she shifted, thighs squeezing together, her voice almost a whine now. "It hurts. I can't think- I can't breathe. I’ve been like this for hours-"

you knelt before her, brushing her hair away from her flushed face. "you poor thing," you whispered, letting your fingers trail down her arm. "you’ve been suffering all alone?"

she nodded, eyes filling with tears, not just from discomfort, but desperation.

"I need to be touched.. need relief.. I don't care who, I just- please. I'll be your pet. your toy. anything."

your breath caught again, sharper this time. she was so needy it was almost pathetic and god, you loved it.

you cupped her face gently and tilted her head up. "look at you, begging so sweetly. do you want me to take care of you, bunny?"

she nodded frantically. "yes. yes—please."

you pushed her back against the soft forest floor, her thighs parting instinctively beneath you. she was panting now, desperate, her hips lifting to grind against nothing.

"you're dripping.." you murmured, dragging your fingers down to trace the wet clothed heat between her legs. she gasped, a soft, broken sound that made your own pulse stutter, heat pooling in your stomach.

"I'll make it better, baby.. but you're gonna thank me properly, aren't you?"

"y-yes, ma'am," she moaned, the title slipping out naturally, submissively.

you leaned down, lips brushing her ear as you whispered, "good girl."

and then you undressed her, and soon enough your mouth was on her, tongue and fingers working in harmony while she writhed beneath you, crying out with every wave of relief that tore through her heat-flooded body. her fingers tangled in your hair, her thighs clamped around your head, and still—still—she begged for more.

"don't stop, please. I need to be ruined.."

you smiled against her skin. "oh, sweetheart... we’re just getting started."

[wistful-poet00]

Not an ask but a thank you, and sorry if this is too long, in your ‘Not so gentle hands’ This hit home so hard, I honestly couldn’t stop crying, having extremely rough and not so pretty hands their whole lives and being told you have ‘man hands’ in a negative way, when I’m supposed to technically have the opposite, and constantly hearing ew and gross and “why are your hands so rough” your whole life and having to cover your hands a lot this story was just a shot through my heart, Thank you, really thank you your writing is amazing and we really appreciate you and your work❤️

oh my god :(

please don't ever apologize for sending long messages this absolutely made the rest of my year. I feel so warm and fuzzy knowing that my writing could make you feel so touched.. it's insane.

I know exactly what you're talking about, too. I also have what most would call "manly" hands, nowhere near soft or delicate as I was told they were supposed to be and that they weren't supposed to be the way they are, always suggested to use "this cream" and "that moisturizer"

lately I'd been feeling especially insecure about them and that's actually what inspired the fic.

I'm so glad that what I wrote helped you feel seen. I hope you know you're not alone, and that your hands are just as lovable as anyone else's, sending much love!! 🩷🩵🫂

thank you so much for reading my work and for writing this I appreciate you! <3

[wistful-poet00]

just a quick puppy pedro edit cause I'm devastated after watching joel die, I definitely don't think I'll be recovering soon.. T^T

[wistful-poet00]

not so gentle hands.

orc boyfriend x fem!reader, insecurities, fluff.

> very self indulgent!

you stared down at your hands, tracing every line, every freckle, every bend that refused to straighten unless you forced them. they didnt look delicate like the others. there was a roughness to them, a raggedness you could never quite smooth out, no matter how many creams or oils you tried. they looked like the hands of someone who worked with tools, dug into the earth but you didn’t. you just had.. imperfect hands. not ugly, exactly. just not what you thought they were supposed to be.

you sighed and tucked them under your sleeves, as if that could hide the feeling, too.

later that evening, your orc boyfriend noticed your silence. he always did.

"you're thinking too loud again," he rumbled, easing down beside you on the couch. His voice was low, warm, grounding.

you gave him a soft smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes. "just tired."

he didn't press. Instead, he reached over and took your hand gently in his. his fingers were large, calloused, scarred from battles and years of strength but steady and careful around you. he turned your hand over in his palm, studying it like it was something precious.

"these hands," he murmured, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, "they look like they've lived."

you blinked at him. "lived?"

he nodded. "not soft and untouched like glass. they've held on. to things. to people. probably too tight sometimes, yeah?" He smiled at you, teasing, but kind.

you let out a small laugh, a little embarrassed. "they're just.... ugly sometimes. Not like other girls' hands.. I don't know. I try to fix them but nothing really changes."

he shook his head. "you know what I see?" he said, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it softly. "I see hands that held mine when I didn't think I deserved it. Hands that wipe your own tears before anyone else can. Hands that reach for me, held me. Hands that have cooked delicious meals."

his voice dropped to a whisper as he looked up at you. "that's not ugly. that's brave and beautiful."

you swallowed hard. the tears surprised you, but they came anyway, quiet, relieved.

and he just held your hands tighter, like he wasn't going to let go of them ever again.