Yeaiamme2

Black. It’s clear I have a type..

[yeaiamme2]

MASTERLIST‼️

People/Characters in order by their name!!

Welcome!

I write for so many fandoms, it's insaine.

Key: fluff: 🌸, smut: 💦, angst:🥀, dark:🖤

An: I always write for x black reader, but I make sure my works work for everyone

KINKTOBER 2025

Taglist

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Soft Obedience 💦🌸 (sub!Brahms)

Possessive Touches💦

Rest in My Hands💦

BRIAN MAY

Say it again💦🌸

BRUCE WAYNE

Marked💦

Shadowed Obsession Part 2💦🖤

The Bat’s Restraint💦

BUCKY BARNES

Break Me In💦

CLARK KENT

Red Sun, Black Vows🖤

Sorry Doesn’t Cut It💦🖤

Man of Steel, Heart of Darkness💦🖤

Is It Too Much?💦🌸

ELIJAH MIKAELSON

Jealous💦

Tender🌸

Claimed in the Quiet💦🌸

Crimson Devotion💦

Crismon Elegance💦🖤

FITZGERALD GRANT

You belong to me🥀

The Sound of Scandal🌸

The Oval Affair💦

All Yours, Mr. President💦

NEGAN SMITH

Say please💦🌸

NIKLAUS MIKEALSON

Darkest Temptation💦

Severus Snape

After Hours💦🖤

STEVE ROGERS

Stay Awhile💦🌸

TONY STARK

Though You Wanted It..💦

Power Play💦

Prototype💦

Cicurity and Control💦

Reflections in Red💦

WANDA MAXIMOFF

Scarlet Claim💦🖤

***

Breaking Point - Bruce Banner🌸💦

DRABBLE

Run💦🖤

Running💦

Overstimulating💦

[capricornluna-deactivated201810]

this blog hates donald trump

[willgrahamscock]

KILL AI AND REBLOG AND CREATE ART IN 2026

[yeaiamme2]

Hi guys!

I just wanted to talk about my absence.

I’m sorry that I’ve been gone for so long. I got distracted with a lot of things I don’t want to put on the internet since they’re very personal to me.

Over my break, I may have forgotten how to write… sometimes I have ideas but I second-guess myself and end up deleting whatever I come up with. But I still write — just not fan-fiction. Instead, I write poetry, and I’ve been doing it since early middle school!

If I do write, they will be short, just like how my first few were when I started writing.

I did manage to come up with something short — as a joke:

“Come here, bubba,” Donald whispered in desperation. Bill couldn’t help but smirk. Sure, he had Hillary at home, and Donald had his wife as well, but he felt like he was at peace with his Donny.

And with that being said, I’m not sure if I should take requests or not. (I really want to; I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to follow through with them.)

And yeah, that’s all I’ve got. I’m out. ❤️🔋

Should I take requests

Nah, wait till you get better!

Yes, let us see your progress!

Voting ended onDec 16, 2025

[yeaiamme2]

Velvet Chains

Lestat de Lioncourt x F!reader

Main Masterlist

Warnings: 6 days late, Blood play, biting, overstimulation, g-spot focus, legs spreading, pinv, breeding talk, possesive behavior, NSFW

The air in New Orleans always felt like temptation. Thick, humid, sweet wit perfume and rot, music difting out of cracked-open jazz clubs where bodies swayed too close in the dark. Tonight, you'd slipped away from your friends, wandering the streets a;one with your heels clicking against the cobblestones.

You felt him before you saw him. A shiver down your spine. The hairs on your arms rising as if something- no, someone was watching.

And there he was.

Golden-haired, alabaster-skinned, dressed like he didn't belong in this century at all- dark coat, silk shirt, a smirk on lips too red to be natural. Lestat.

"Bonsoir, ma belle," he purred, his French rolling off his tounge like sin. "Walking alone at night? You should know better."

You froze, heart skipping. "Do I know you?"

His smile widened, preadatory. "Not yet. But you will."

He fell into step beside you, too close, his presence magnetic and terrifying at onve. You should've pulled away. You should've ran. But instead, you let him lead you down the quieter streets, away from the music, until the buildings grew older, grander, until he stopped before an estate that looked like it had been plucked from another century.

Inside, it smelled of wax and roses. Candles glowed against crimson drapes and marble floors. A piano sat silent in the corner.

You swallowed. "I shouldn't be here."

His laugh was low, amused. "Oh, ma cherie, you were always meant to be here."

The kiss came first- slow, claiming, his mouth was soft but insistent. His hand fangled in tour hair, the other pressed to the small of your back, drawing you into his chest. You gasped against him, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, teeth grazing your lip until you whimpered.

"Such sounds," he murmured. "Do you even know what you're doing to me?"

His hand trailed lower, bunching the fabric of your dress. His fingers slipped between your thighs without hesitation, brushing your panties. pressing until you squirmed.

You tried to squeeze your legs shut- instinctive, overwhelmed- but he clicked his tounge, prying them apart with ease.

"Non," he said sharply, eyes gleaming. "Keep them open for me. Always."

Your breath hitched as his fingers slid inside, deliberate, curling until-

"Lestat!" you cried out, your body jerking when he found that spot, that devastating place inside you.

"Ah," he grinned, fangs flashing. "There you are."

He pressed again, and again, watching the way your face twisted, the way your thighs trembled. You tried to close them, but he pinned you wide, his strength inhuman, his gaze alight with hunger.

"You'll take it," he hissed. "Every inch, every wave. Until you forget your own name."

Your body beytrayed you, arching into him, your moans echoing off the velvet walls. His thumb toyed with your clit as his fingers worked your g-spot mercilessly, until tears blurred your vision.

"Too much?" he tauted. "Or not enough?"

You sobbed out his name, and his mouth descended on your throat, sharp teeth pricking you before sinking in. Pain laced for a moment, then pleasure flooded, mingling until you couldn't seperate them. Your orgasm ripped through you, violent and wet, but he didn't stop. He milked every aftershock, every twitch, until you were begging.

When he finally pulled his fingers free, you thought it was over. But then you felt him at your entrance, thick and hard, his hand gripping your hip like iron.

"No," you gasped weakly. "Lestat, wait-"

"Shhh," he crooned mockingly. "I'll be gentle."

He wasn't.

He sank into you in one slow, brutal thrust, stretching you until you cried out. His grin was wicked, his fangs glinting in the candlelight as he watched your face.

"Mon dieu," he whispered. "So tight. So perfect. Mine."

Each thrust drove deeper, relentless, hitting that spot inside you again and again until your legs shook. You tried to resist, to push against his chest, but he only laughed and pinned your wrists above your head.

"You thought you could deny me?" he snarled, pounding harder. "Non, ma belle. You belong to me. Every scream, every drop of blood, every shiver."

You shattered again, your body wracked with overstimulation as he fucked you through it, his own groans growing ragged. He bent to your ear, his voice a dark promise.

"I'll fill you, mark you, ruin you until you can't take another step. And still, you'll beg for more."

When he came, it was with a feral growl, his body pressed deep inside yours, his fangs sinking into your throat once more as his seed spilled into you.

You lay trembling in the candlelight, skin sticky with sweat and blood, your body aching, your mind reeling. Lestat licked the wound on your neck, sealing it with his tounge, then pulled back to admire his work.

He cupped your cheek, almost tender despite the cruelty in his smile. "See? I told you, ma cherie. You were always meant to be mine."

And you knew, in that moment, that you could never escape him.

[yeaiamme2]

Crimson Elegance

Elijah Mikaelson x F!Reader

Main Masterlist, Elijah's Masterlist

Warnings: Kinktober, biting/blood play, light choking, rough sex, fingering, overstimulation, possessiveness, dirty talk.

The night was thick with humidity, the air heavy with the scent of magnolias and something darker- the river nearby, the city's secrets tucked into every alley. You had arrived in New Orleans seeking refuge, and Elijah, for reasons known only to him, had insisted on keepng you close.

"Must you be so reckless?" Elijah's voice cut through the quiet of the parlor, smooth as velevet, but sharp enough to slice. He stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, every inch the composed nobleman, but his jaw clenched like a coiled spring.

"I can take care of myself," you shot back, pacing. "I'm not some helpless mortal to be... babysat."

His dark eyes followed your every move, caculating, predatory, and beneath the calm, something simmered. The faintest curl of a smile tugged at his lips- but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You always speak as though you understand power, yet you know so little of it," he murmured, stepping closer. Each footstep was measured, deliberate. "Perhaps... you need a demonstration."

Before you could respond, his hands were on your arms, firm but not cruel. He leaned close, and the faint scent of his colonge- sandalwood, blood, something infinitley older- hit you like a tidal wave.

Then, unexpectedly, his teeth grazed your neck. A shallow bite, testing. Your breath caught. "Elijah-" you warned, voice trembling.

"You taste... divine," he murmured, voice low and intimate. "Do you fell that, darling? That stir of blood beneath your skin? It calls to me."

His fangs dipped slightly, a sharp prick drawing a bead of blood. You gasped, both alarmed and exhilarated. His lips brushed the wound as he tasted it, tounge racing the crimson line.

The argument melted into something else entirely- raw, heated, urgent. His hand slid down your slid down your side, fingers pressing firmly against your hip, guiding you back until your spine met the edge of the fireplace mantle.

"Do you realize how reckless you make me feel?" he growled, voice dropping lower, rougher. One hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face toward him, while the other pressed between your thighs through your clothes.

You shivered, hips pressing into him, desperate for more. "Elijah... I-"

"Shh," he interrupted, thumb brushing over your clit, rough and demanding. "No words. Only me."

His fangs grazed your collarbone leaving twin marks that burned. Your back arched, hands gripping his broad shoulders. Each movement og his fingers, each press of his body against yours was percise, controlling, overwhelming.

"You belong to me," he whispered, lips ghosting along your ear. "All of you. Every inch."

Your moan spurred him on. His hand found purchase beneath you, slipping inside your wetness, curling agaisnt you in a rhythm that made your vision blur. One finger, then two, curling, pressing, exploring. Your hips rocked back instinctively, desperate for friction.

"Elijah... oh-" you whimpered, clutching at his shoulders as your toes curled.

He growled, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. "So responsive... so perfect. Do you feel that, how I can sense every hiver? Every heartbeat?"

The bite came again, sharper this time, fangs sinking lightly into the skin of your neck. Blood blossomed across your skin. You gasped, and he captured the sound with a possesive groan, dragging you closer to him.

"Do you like that?" His fingers inside you moved faster, curling expertly, rubbing against your most sensitive spots. "Do you like being claimed?"

"Yes," you breathed, body trembling. "Yes, Elijah... please-"

His lips captured yours in a rough, demanding kiss, tounge parting yours as he thrust a finger deep inside, curling in ways that made you clench hard around him. The mixture of pain, pleasure, and overstimulation had you seeing stars.

"You're mine," he whispered, fangs grazing your jaw this time. One hand wrapped around your throat, not enough to harm, but enough to assert ownership, the other pressing your hips firmly against him. "And I will make you feel it, over and over."

Your nails raked down his back, desperate for more. "Elijah... I can't-"

"Yes, you can," he interrupted, voice a low growl, eyes alight with possessive hunger. "You can take all of me. Every inch."

Befrore you could respond, he slid another finger inside, curling in ways that had you screaming his name. His other hand pressed you down, ensuring every movement was percise, overwhelming, leaving you trembling, begging for release.

"You're close," he murmured, voice thick, dangerous. "Good... so good. Let go for me."

The first orgasm ripped through you violently, and he didn't stop- instead, he shifted, positioning you on your back on the floor, straddling your thighs. His cock, long and hard beneath the fabric of trousers, pressed against your dripping folds.

"Elijah..." you gasped, overwhelmed.

"Don't speak," he ordered, voice a low growl, lips pressing to yours in a demanding kiss. "Feel only."

He pushed inside you, slow at first, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him. Your body clung to his, every nerve ending alight, every gasp fueling his feral need.

Each thrust was calculated, alternating between deep, filling pressure and shallow, teasing movements that had your head spinning.

"Do you feel how much I want you?" he whispered, teeth grazing your shoulder, lips brushing over your neck. "Every inch of you belongs to me."

Your second orgasm tore through you, clenching around him, and he groaned, hands gripping your hips as he drove into you harder, more insistent. He bit, he fucked, he praised, he dominated- the mix of pleasure, blood, and overstimulation nearly pushed you past your limits.

"Again," he whispered, his voice almost gentle despite the brutality of his movements. "Again, my darling. Only for me."

You melted under him, over and over, each wave of release drawing a deeper, more possesive groan from Elijah.

His hands marked your skin, his teeth left tiny marks, his cock filled you completely, and when the final climax hit- a shuddering, breathless release- he held you, face nuzzled against yours, the predatory hunger replaced by the gentle, careful touch of the centuries-old vampire who loved you.

"You're mine," he murmured. "Always and forever."

You smiled weakly, nails dragging down his broad chest. "Always," you managed to whisper.

And in the aftermath, blood and sweat mingling, you understood that with Elijah, every danger came wrapped in desire, and every bite, every thrust, was a claim you would never deny.

[yeaiamme2]

Breaking Point

Bruce Banner x F!reader

Main Masterlist

Warnings: kinktober, fingering, PinV, overstimulation, rough sex, size kink, dirty talk, light breeding kink, bruce may hulk out, aftercare.

The lab smelled faintly of antiseptic and solder, machines humming low as you perched yourself on the bench, watching Bruce shuffle around. His shoulders were tight, hunched, as if he was carrying the whole world in his hands. Maybe he was.

“Bruce,” you said softly. He stilled, the beaker in his hands trembling slightly.

You touched his arm, firm enough to ground him. “You’ve been holding back again.”

His lips twisted in that nervous smile you knew too well. “You know why. I can’t… if i lose it, if I let go…”

“Then you let me catch you,” you whispered, and kissed him before he could spiral further.

His was like a lighting fuse. His hands flew to your waist, almost too careful, like he was scared he’d crush you. You nipped at his lip, pulling him closer, and suddenly his restraint snapped. He pushed you back against the bench, kissing you hungrily, glasses askew.

“Geez..” he muttered against your mouth, his Midwestern softness cracking into something darker. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His hands fumbled at your waistband, tugging you open just enough to slip inside. His fingers slid through your folds, finding you embarrassingly wet already.

“You’re-“ His breath stuttered and he pressed two fingers inside, slow but steady, curling them against your walls. The stretch had you moaning, nails digging into his lab coat.

“Bruce,” you gasped, hips rocking into his hand.

He groaned, hand falling to your shoulder as he worked you open, his fingers pumping faster, rougher. His thumb brushed over your clit with perfect pressure, and your body jerked, a helpless sound spilling from your throat.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice breaking, “that’s it, sweetheart, let me- oh my…” his other hand clutched the bench so hard the metal cracked.

You clenched around his fingers, whining his name, and he froze, trembling. You could feel the storm building under his skin- the change threatening to break through.

The green bled into his veins before your eyes, his body shuddering, expanding. Glasses fell to the floor, shattering, as his frame doubled in size. In seconds, the Hulk loomed over you, chest heaving.

For a moment, he hesitated.

“Hulk… hurt you?” His voice rumbled.

You decided to take your chance. “No. I want you. I want all of you.”

That was all he needed. With a growl, he ripped your clothes away in a single motion, his huge hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them wide. His fingers- thicker, heavier- pressed back inside of you, stretching you further, making you cry out.

He worked you open mercilessly, pumping until slick coated his knuckles, your thighs trembling with each thrust of his hand.

“Take Hulk’s fingers good,” he growled, his thumb circling your clit with rough precision. You arched against him, a sob ripping from your throat as you came hard around his hand, your juices dripping down the bench.

Before you could recover, he lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You gasped at the shear size of hi, the stretch almost unbearable.

“Bruce-“ you whimpered, your mind foggy.

“Hulk,” he corrected roughly, voice gravel and heat.

He pushed forward, slow at first, groaning at the way your body struggled to take him. Inch by inch he sank deeper, until the stretch had you clinging to him, your nails raking down his green skin.

“It’s too deep,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

His glowing gaze snapped down to you, a low growl rumbling from his chest. He didn’t pull back. Instead, he slammed the rest of the way in, bottoming out with a force that made the bench groan.

“Take Hulk,” he ordered, “take all.”

His thrusts grew brutal, each one dragging a scream from your throat as he hits spots Bruce never could. The mix of pain and pleasure blurred, your body tightening as he drove you into his overstimulation.

He bent low, his tongue dragging across your chest before his mouth latched around your nipple, sucking hard while his cock pounded into you.

The sensation sent you over again, your orgasm ripping through you with violent force. Hulk didn’t stop, he fucked you through it, your body convulsing, clit throbbing as he ground agains it with his massive hand.

“Too much,” you whimpered, squirming.

“No,” he growled, fucking you harder, faster, until the wet slap of skin and cries filled the lab. His thumb pressed cruel circles onto your swollen clit, forcing another orgasm from you, then another, until you were trembling, body slack.

Only when he roared, hips driving forward one last time, spilling deep inside you, before Bruce slowly started to come back.

His breaths came in rough, uneven pulls as he slumped forward, his forehead resting against yours. The room was quiet except for the low hum of both if your heartbeats trying ti find their rhythm again.

For a long moment, he didn’t move—just held you, one trembling hand brushing damp strands of hair away from your face. “You okay?” he murmured, voice still gravelly, eyes soft with worry.

You nodded, tracing small circles against his chest. “Yeah,” you whispered, smiling faintly. “You?”

He exhaled, the sound almost like a laugh, then leaned down to press a slow kiss against your temple. “Better now.”

When he finally pulled out, he moved carefully, as if afraid to hurt you. He disappeared for a moment, only to return with a warm towel and water, tending to you with a quiet tenderness that made your chest ache.

Every touch was gentle, reverent—his way of saying sorry for how hard he’d lost himself earlier.

Once he’d finished, Bruce slid back into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against his chest.

You could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat under your palm.

He pressed his lips to your shoulder. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head, nestling closer. “No, Bruce. You were perfect.”

He sighed, the tension finally melting from his body as his fingers drew lazy shapes along your skin. In that quiet space—between the flicker of city lights and the slowing breaths—you both stayed tangled up, saying everything without words.

[yeaiamme2]

Severus Snape

Main Masterlist

Taglist

Key: fluff: 🌸, smut: 💦 , angst: 🥀, dark: 🖤

After Hours💦🖤

[yeaiamme2]

After Hours

Severus Snape x F!Reader

Main Masterlist, Severus's Masterlst.

Warnings: Im back!! Sorry if this sucks.. Kinktober, Y/L/N means your last name, Teacher/Student Reader is of age!!, punishment kink, fingering, slight description of reader, dominance, rough handaling, light humiliation, sex on the desk, praise, degradation, dirty talk, breath play, overstimulation.

The libary was almost empty when you slipped inside, the air thick with the smell of parchment and dust. You weren't supposed to be here- not at this hour- but the quiet was comforting, and you told yourself you'd only stay a little while.

Your fingers skimmed along the spines of books when the low hum of a voice stopped you cold.

"Miss Y/L/N."

You froze. That voice could only belong to one person.

Snape was standing by the far table, arms folded, watching you with that unreadable expression that always made your stomach twist.

"What exactly are you doing here? It is well past curfew."

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. "I... couldn't sleep, sir."

His eyes flickered over you- dressing gown, slippers, hair tied up. "The dormitory would be a logical place for a sleepless student. Not the libary."

Heat rose to your cheeks. "I just- I wanted to read for a bit."

Hestudied you for a moment longer before leaning forward, his tone deceptive and soft. "Return to your dorm. I will not find you wandering again tonight. Understood?"

You nodded quickly.

"Good. Go."

You left without looking back.

You should have stayed put. You really should have.

But an hour later, you were padding down the side corridor near the kitchens, chasing the idea of hot cocoa and fresh bread before bed.

The air shifted- that strange sensation of being watched prickling the back of your neck.

You turned the corner and there he was again. This time, his expression wasn't unreadable- it was cold.

"When I said I would not find you wandering again," he began, his boots clickling agaisnt the stone as he approached, "what exactly did you hear?"

Your swallowed hard. "I wasn't- I was just-"

"Breaking curfew," he finished for you. "Again. In the same evening."

You glanced away, but his voice snapped you back. "Look at me when I speak to you."

You swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"I doubt that," he murmured. "But you will be."

His hand closed around your wirst, firm but not painful, dragging you along the corridor toward the dungeons. Your heart was punding so hard you barely noticed the chill.

He released your chin only to wrap his hand frimly around your wrist. "You will follow me. Now."

You had no choice. His stride was purposeful, dragging you along the corridor until you reached his classroom. The heavy door shut behind you with a resonant thud that seemed to seal your fate.

He didn't turn to face you right away. Instead, he moved to his desk, removed his teaching robes in one smooth motion, and draped them over the chair. The candlelight cast him in sharp lines, his black waistcoat fitted and percise.

"Come here," he said without looking up.

You hesitated.

"Now."

Your feet carried you forward until you stood in front of the desk. His eyes finally lifted to meet yours.

"You are aware," Snape began, voice even but heavy, "that students who repeatedly defy the rules must be... corrected."

Your pulse skipped. "Sir, I didn't-"

"You did." He rose slowly from his chair. "And you will take your punishment."

When you didn't move, he stepped closer, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek. "Bend over the desk."

The command sent heat rushing through you, but your body resisted on instinct. His hand pressed firmly between your shoulder blades, guiding you down until your chest met the cool wood.

"I warned you what would happen the next time," he said, his tone low and dark, "and I keep my promises."

The hiss of leather sliding through belt loops cut through the silence.

"You will count."

The first strike landed- sharp, stinging.

"One," you breathed.

The second came harder, the third harder still. By the fifth, your knees threatened to buckle, heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Pathetic," Snape murmured, his voice dripping disdain. His hand slif down the curve of your hips, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your nightgown. When he found the damp heat between your thighs, a low, satisfied sound escaped him.

"Already wet from being punished," he said. "Do you enjoy defying me just so I'll do this."

You swallowed hard, unable to answer.

His fingers slid inside you without warning, curling expertly, his other hand gripping your throat and pulling you upright against his chest.

"You'll remember this lesson," Snape murmured in your ear, the dangerous edge in his tone making your pulse race. "And until you learn, I'll keep you here all night... reminding you."

When he pushed into you moments later, it was with the same unrelenting control as his voice- steady, deep, his hand occasionally tightening on your throat just enough to make your head spin. The desk creaked under you, your moans swallowed by his mouth when he kissed you, slow and possessive.

By the time he let you go, your legs were shaking, the sting of leather still burning against your skin, and his voice- low, commanding, inescapable- echoed in your mind.

[yeaiamme2]

Hi guys, Im sorry to say this but I will be going under surgery soon so I wont be able to continue with kinktober as much BUT i will adjust the dates and maybe who i write for, idk it depends on how I’m going to feel!!

[yeaiamme2]

Reflections in Red

Tony Stark x F!reader

Main Masterlist, Tony's Masterlist

Warnings: Day 11 of Kinktober, Mirror play, exhibition kink, Dom!Tony, teasing, PinV, fingering, oral, edging, praise, playful degradtion.

The penthouse was quiet, lights dimmed except for the city glow spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You leaned against the mirrored wall, stretching lazily, unware of Tony's eyes in you from across the room. He had that smirk- the one that promised mischef, danger, and undeniable pleasure.

"Looking at yourself?" he asked, voice low, playful, stepping closer.

You flushed, turning slightly. "Maybe..."

"Maybe?" His smirk widened. "Don't act shy with me. You know I love seeing you like this."

Your stomach fluttered. You weren't shy- not really- but Tony had a way of making you feel exposed even in your own home. His gaze roamed, appreciative, possessive.

"Come here," he ordered, voice darkening just enough to send shivers down your spine.

You obeyed, stepping closer to the mirrior, feeling his heat behind you. Tony pressed against your back, hands sliding along your sides, teasing over your clothing. "You're perfect," he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "So fucking beautiful. And you don't even realize it." His hands moved dilberately, sliding inside your leggings, teasing your core. You gasped, leaning against the mirrored wall, watching your reflection- his reflection behind you- and yourself reacting under his touch.

"Look at you," he growled, one hand gripping your hip while the other traced your neck and collarbone. "So wet for me, so desperate, and you don't even need to see me to feel it. But I know you love it. I know you love that I see everything."

Your breaths hitched as he pressed against you fully, teasing just the tip inside. "Tony... please... I need you..."

"Patience," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "I want to see you lose control in the mirror first. I want to watch you beg for it."

The next moments were a delicious torment. His fingers worked inside you, curling teasing, making you whimper as he whispered praises, degrading you, and claiming you. "Mine," he growled. "All of you is mine. Look at yourself in the mirror. See how good you take me?"

"Yes... yes, Tony," you moaned, your reflection staring back at you, flushed, trembling. "I'm yours... all yours."

He positioned himself behind you, sliding fully inside with deliberate slowness, giving you time to feel every inch, every stretch, every pulse of need. The mirror reflected every movement, every shiver, every arching curve, amplifying your humiliation and pleasure.

"Do you see yourself?" he murmured, lips close to your ear. "Look at how desperate you are.. how much you need me. Do you like knowing I see every part of you?"

"Yes... yes..." you gasped, thighs trembling, nails digging into his shoulders. "I... love it... Tony..."

"Good girl," he said, thrusting slowly at first, building, letting you adjust, then picking up a pace that had your reflection shaking, eyes wide, mouth parted. "Mine. Every sound, every moan... all for me."

Your climax crept closer, each thrust, each lick of his fingers, each whispered word pushing you over the edge. "Tony... I'm... I'm going to--"

"Let go," he commanded, his hands tightening on your hips. "Come for me. All of it. I want to see it."

Your orgasm hit, violent and overwhelming, reflected in the mirror, shaking your body, moaning his name as he rode out every second with you. Tony's own release followed, deep, possessive, spilling inside you as he whispered praise and dirty words.

Afterward, he held you close, lips brushing your temple. "You're amazing," he murmured. "Every time, I can't get enough of you. And seeing you like that..." His smirk returned, playful, satisfied. "I could watch you forever."

You leaned against him, still trembling, reflection before you- two silhouettes tangled together, perfectly in sync, a testament to his control and your surrender.

"Mirror play?" you whispered, voice shaky but pleased.

"Mirror play," he confirmed, lips grazing yours. "And you? You're perfect at it."

The city hummed around the penthouse, unware of the storm of passion that had jus unfloded in the mirrored reflections, And as Tony held you, warm, possessive, and smugly triumphant, you knew this wasnt the last time he'd make you the star of his private show.

Taglist - @clover723, @josefiinq

[yeaiamme2]

Take the Stage

Lin-Manuel Miranda x F!reader

Main Masterlist

Warnings: Day Ten of Kinktober, Roleplay kink, teasing, light bondage, oral, praise.

The theater smelled faintly of dust and polish, the echo of past performances lingering in the air. You wandered through the empty backstage, script in hand, notebook tucked under your arm. Tonight was rehersal, but Lin had insisted on meeting with you earlier- with a plan, secret he'd been hinting at all week.

"Are you ready?" he asked stepping out from behind the curtain, a michiveous grin on his face.

You raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For a little... experiment," he said, voice playful, eyes twinkling. "You trust me, right?"

"Yes," you said, curiosity piqued, heat already creeping up your neck.

He beckoned you forward, hands gentle as he guided you to a chair in the corner of the stage. "Tonight, we're not just rehearsing lines. We're going to create something... more."

Your stomach fluttered. "More?"

Lin smiled, reaching into his coat and pulling out silk ties, small cuffs. "Roleplay. Creative senarios. You'll follow my lead. And if you do well..." His eyes darkened ever so slightly, "you'll get a reward."

Your heart skipped. "Okay..." you whispered, letting him guide your wrist together. The silk was soft, teasing, restrictive just enough to make your pulse race.

"Perfect," he said, brushing his fingers along your arms. "Now, imagine this..."

He leaned in close, voice low, painting a scene of an alternate universe where you were the star of the show, and he was the director, the writer, the audience- and you, entirely at his mercy. Every word, every touch, every command designed to make you melt.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his lips brushing along your jaw. "Exactly how I imagined."

His hands roamed your body, teasing over your clothing, pressing against your skin. The thrill of being watched, guided, praised, tied to the scenario he controlled, had your knees weakening.

"You like being my star?" he murmured, fingers tracing your inner thighs just enough to elicit a gasp.

"Yes... I do," you admitted, heat pooling low.

"Good," he said, smirking. "Because every move, every sound... I want it all."

He guided you down to the stage floor, poistioning you carfully, hands on your hips. His teasing fingers brushed over your clothed core, pressing you cloer to him. Each touch was deliberate, choreographed, a dance of control and surrender.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, lips brushing your temple. "Perfectly obedient. See how much I adore that?"

The mixture of praise and restraint drove you wild. Your breaths grew shorter, your maons quiet but eager. He leaned in, lips finding yours in a deep, demanding kiss, hands exploring, holding, commanding attention.

"Lin..." you gasped, chest rising and falling. "Please..."

"Patience," he whispered, lips trailing down your neck. "Follow my scenario. Let me guide you. And you'll see... the reward is worth it."

When he finally moved to slide inside you, it was slow, teasing, the build-up nearly unbearable. He poistioned himself perfectly, letting you feel the depth of him as he whispered praises, reminding you how good you were.

"You take me so perfectly," he murmured, thrusts measured but deep, controlled, keeping you on the edge. "Exactly as I imagined. My perfect star."

Your climax built slowly, each thrust, each whisper, each teasing brush of his lips pushing you closer. When it hit, it was overwhelming, your body shaking as he held you, whispered your name, praised every reaction, every moan.

Lin followed momets later, spilling inside you, hands gentle but possessive, kissing your temple.

"You were incredible," he murmured, soft and satisfied. "Every scene, every move... you made it perfect. Just like I knew you would."

You collapsed against him, still trembling, breathless, heart racing with the intimacy of being both a performer and muse, guided by someone who adored every part of you.

"And, " he added with a playful smirk, "there's always a next scene. Ready to rehearse again?"

You laughed softly, tugging him close. "Always."

[yeaiamme2]

Niklaus Mikealson

Main Masterlist

Taglist

Key: fluff: 🌸, smut: 💦, angst:🥀, dark:🖤

Darkest Temptation💦

[yeaiamme2]

Darkest Temptation

Klaus Mikaelson x F!reader

Main Masterlist, Klaus's Masterlist

Warnings: I'm a day late again.. Day 9 of Kinktober, Corruption kink, manipulation, dominance, dark romace, mental teasing, unprotected sex.

The city of New Orleans pulsed beneath the moonlight, alive with secrets and shadows. You walked the streets alone, unaware the Klaus Mikaelson had been watching you from the shadows. Every movement, every small laugh you gave, drew his attention. He had been patient, waiting for the perfect moment- and tonight, he decided it was time.

"Walking alone is dangerous," his voice murmured from the alley, smooth and dangerous.

You startled, spinning around to find him leaning casually against the brick wall, coat flowing, eyes glittering with predatory amusement. "Klaus," you breathed, heart racing. "You scared me."

"Good," he said, stepping closer, heat radiating off him. "I like when you're a little scared. Keeps you... alert. Keeps you on edge."

Your chest tightend. You knew him- his temper, his manipulations, his dangerous charm- yet you had never felt such a pull, such an undeniable magnetism.

"Why are you following me?" you whispered, breath hitching.

He smiled darkly. "Following? No, love. I'm guiding you. Leading you where you belong... to me."

Before you could respond, he grabbed your wrsit, his touch both commanding and electrifying. "You try so hard to be good," he said, voice low and velvet-dark. "But I can feel it. The hunger beneath your skin. The curiosity. The part of you that wants... everything I can give."

A shiver ran through you. "Everything?" you asked, your voice small.

"Yes," he breathed, pressing closer, lips grazing your ear. "Every part of you, every thought, every inch. And I'm going to take it. Slowly, deliciously. You won't even know where you end and I begin"

He pushed uou against the wall, body pressing flush against yours, and the heat of him made your knees weak. His hands toamed freely, teasing, testing, but never leaving you entirely in control.

"You're thinking about resisting," he murmured, fangs brushing your neck, "but I can smell your desire. You want this. You want me to corrupt you."

"Yes... I-" you gasped, cut off by a sharp bite to your neck. The sting was delicious, igniting every nerve

"Good," he purred, dragging his fangs along the bite, tasting the flush of your blood. "Let me make you mine completely. Let me show you how much you've needed this."

The intensity of his presence, the way he dominated the air around you, made your thoughts scatter. He kissed along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, each touch a mix of pain and pleasure. You shivered, trembling, unable to stop yourself from yielding to him.

Klaus guided you to the cobblestones below a lamplight, pressing you against the wall with a dominance that was both terrifying and intoxicating. He moved inside yo slowly, deliberately, making every thrust an act of passion, every groan a claim.

"Do you feel that?" he whispered, fangs grazing your shoulder. "Every inch of me inside of you... turning you into mine?"

"Yes... yes, Klaus," you moaned, nails digging into his back. "I'm yours... take me."

His pace increased, powerful and relentless, yet measured. Each thrust pushed you closer to the edge, each bite, each whisper of dominance eroding the part of you that might have resisted.

"You've been so careful," he murmured against your lips, voice husky with need. "But I can feel your body craving me. Every part of you wants this, wants me to claim you fully. And I will. I'll make you beg."

You whimpered, overwhelmed by the intensity, by the way he had taken complete control. "Please... I... want it... I want you," you gasped, voice breaking.

Klaus's hands gripped your hips, his fangs sinking in gently as he whispered, "That's it. Beg for me. Let me hear how much you crave me."

"I need you... I'm yours... please, Klaus... I want everything," you cried, your body trembling under his touch.

The release came like a storm, violent and consuming, your cries mingling with his deep groans as he claimed you completelt. His control, his darkness, his dominance had drawn every once of resistance from you, leaving only raw need and surrender.

When he finally pulled out, he held you close, lips brushing yours softly. "You see? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

You shivered, still trembling, voice weak but full of awe. "No... it was perfect. I... I've never..."

"You're mine now," he murmured, pressing a final, possessive kiss to your forehead. "Completely, utterly. And you will remember that every time you think you can resist me.

You leaned into him heart still racing, blood still warm from his bite, knowing that the corruption he had promised had taken root- and you would never want it undone.

[yeaiamme2]

Stay Awhile

Stever Rogers x F!reader

Main Masterlist, Steve's Masterlist, Taglist

Warnings: Day 8 of Kinktober, romantic smut, Steve being horny, unprotected sex, cockwarming, praise, cuddling, oral.

The morning sunlight spilled softly across the kitchen, cutting through the faint steam of freshley brewed coffee. You hummed as you set a plate of pancakes on the table, glancing over your shoulder at Steve, who leaned against the counter in his sweatpants and old t-shirt.

"Smells good," he murmured, eyes following the curve of your hips as you moved. The way he watched you made your cheeks warm.

You could help, you teased, flipping a pancake expertly.

He smiled sheepishly, holding a mug of coffee with both hands. "I'm enjoying the view."

"Steve," you scolded, though the teasing lilt in your voice beytrayed your amusement.

He took a step closer, voice dropping. "You know I love every inch of you. Every move. Every sound you make. Every little thing you do when you think I'm not watching."

Heat pooled low in your stomach. Even after all this time together, Steve still had that way of making your pulse race with just his voice.

He leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, thumb grazing your cheek. "I've been thinking," he murmured, "about last night."

Your breath caught. "Oh?"

He nodded, lips brushing yours softly. "Yeah... about how perfect it felt. About how... close we were."

A shiver ran through you. You leaned into his warmth, teasing a soft smile. "Is that all you were thinking about?"

"Not even close."

Steve's hands moved to your hips, drawing you flush against him. You gasped when he nuged at the waistband of your leggings, fingers sliding just inside, pressing against you. "You're so warm," he whispered, voice low and tender. "So perfect for me."

He pressed himself against your back, and the friction alone had your thighs clenching. You leaned against him, breath hitching, heart racing.

"Steve.." you breathed. "I want you. But I don't want to stop cooking breakfast."

He chuckled softly, lips against your neck. "Who says you have to? You don't need to move."

Carefully, he guided himself behind you, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. The warmth, the weightm the closeness- it had you trembling. He slid in slowly, deep enough to fill you without making a sound, letting your body rest on him.

"You feel so good, he murmured, nuzzling your shoulder. "So warm, so soft... just like this, I could stay like this forever."

The sensation of him pressed inside you, fully connected, but staying still, made you melt into him. You shifted slightly, hips rocking against him, and he groaned softly.

"Not too much, sweetheart," he whispered, hand sliding to your stomach, fingers tracing light patterns over your skin "I just... want to feel you. Just like this."

His words, soft and reverent, mad your heart flutter. You leaned back into him, closing your eyes, letting the domestic intimacy of the moment- the kitchen smells, the morning light, his steady warmth- wash over you.

"You're incredible," he murmured. "You always know how to make me feel... whole."

Your fingers traced his arms, the muscles tensing under your touch. "Steve.." you breathed, voice trembling with desire. "I love feeling close like this."

He kissed your temple softly, rockig ever so slightly inside you, just enough to make the friction delicious. "Me too," he admitted, voice low, filled with awe. "Every second with you... it's everything I've ever wanted."

You gasped as your orgasm crept up, slow and overwhelming, your body pressing back against him. He held you through it, whispering encouragements and praise, letting you melt around him.

"God... you're incredible," he groaned, fingers tightening slightly on your waist. "So perfect... mine."

When he finally came, it was slow and steady, filling you as he whispered soft words of love and devotion. You clung to him, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat against your back, listening to the rise and fall of his chest as you both came down from the intimate high.

Later, still pressed together, you sipped your coffee while Steve held you from behind, arms wrapped tight. "You're my home," he murmured.

"And you're mine," you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

The rest of the morning was quiet- just pancakes, coffee, and the soft warmth of being together. Domestic, tender, perfect. And neither of you had to say a word to know that this closness, was everything.

[yeaiamme2]

STEVE ROGERS

Main Masterlist

Taglist

Key: fluff: 🌸, smut: 💦, angst:🥀, dark:🖤

Stay Awhile💦🌸

[yeaiamme2]

Break Me In

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Main Masterlist, Bucky's Masterlist, Taglist

Warnings: I forgot to post this yesterday... Day seven of Kinktober, Brat taming, spanking, rough sex, fingering, unprotrcted sex, possessive talk.

The training room smelled of sweat and iron. You leaned against the edge of the mat, smirking as Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow, clearly irritated by your constant teasing.

"You've been at this all day." you said, voice light, mocking. "You sure you're even paying attention, soldier?"

He turned slowly, eyes darkening. "I'm paying attention," he said evenly. But there was a dangerous edge in his tone. "You're the one pushing boundaries."

"Maybe I like pushing boundaries," you teased, stepping closer, fingers brushing against his arm. "Maybe I like seeing how far you'll go before you snap."

The flash of something wild crossed his face. Bucky had always had a temper simmering beneath his calm exterior, and you'd found the right button to press.

"You like to test me," he murmured, voice low, dangerous. He moved so quickly you barely had time to react, pinning you against the wall. His metal arm held you in place, warmth and strength radiating from him.

"Bucky-" you began, but your voice faltered as he tilted your chin up, eyes locking on yours. "Do you want me to teach you a lesson?"

"Yes," you admitted breathlessly. "Please."

The word seemed to ignite something in him. He tugged you down to the mat, pressing you onto it roughly yet carefully, hands gripping your wrists above your head. His other hand roamed your body, kneading, teasing, testing boundaries.

"You've been so naughty today," he growled. "Talking back, teasing me in front of everyone. Do you know what that makes you?"

"A brat?" you whuspered, smirking despite your racing heart.

Bucky's lips twisted into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "A very naughty brat. And brats need... discipline."

He spanked you once, hard enough to leave a sting, and you gasped, arching into his palm. The mix of pain and pleasure made your knees weak.

"Fuck," you whispered, muffled against the mat. "Bucky- please..."

"Please what?" he countered, leaning down, lips brushing your ear. "Be a good girl for me? Or beg like the brat you are?"

"Beg," you panted, thighs trembling. "I... I'll be a good girl. Please, Bucky, make me yours."

His grip on your wrsits tightened as he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both rough and possessive. "Good girl," he murmured, nibbling at your jaw. "Now, take me."

Bucky positioned himself carefully, sliding inside you. The sensation was intense, rough, consuming- the metal of his arm pressing against your skin as he thrust with controlled force.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, each movement deliberate, teaching, punishing, owning. "You've been teasing me all day, and now you're mine."

Your moans echoed off the walls, mingling with his low growls as he held you down, guiding your hips, pressing harder, faster. His hands, one metal, the other flesh, gripped your thighs and hips with authority, reminding you of who was in control.

"You're such a brat," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "But you take me so well. Do you feel that? Every inch of me filling you? Mine."

"Yes... yes, Bucky," you cried, your body trembling as he thrust harder, the metal arm stabalizing you as he dominated every movement. "I'm yours."

When your climax hit, it tore through you violently, your body arching into his, nails digging into his shoulders. Bucky groaned, his own release following moments later, hips stuttering as he filled you deeply.

He collapsed against you, holding you tight, lips pressing soft kisses across your temple and neck. "You've been such a bad girl," he murmured, voice softer now, tinged with affection. "And yet... I can't get enough of you."

You curled into his chest, heart still racing, hands tracing over his metal arm and bare skin. "I love it... I love you," you whispered.

"And I love you," he replied, voice low, possessive. "Always. But don't think you're getting away with being a brat again."

Outside, the world went on- missions, danger, chaos. But here, in the quiet aftermath of your tangled bodies, Bucky Barnes had tamed you, and you had surrendered, fully and deliciously.