#biteofcherry's birthday banquet
Note
Happy Birthday Eva!! My sentence prompt is:
“What are you doing out this late?” + nesting universe please!
Thank you for the wishes! 💖
Nesting Masterlist
soft!dark Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings: none really; smut implied; a hint of breeding kink
One of the flaws of your husband was the fact he moved so stealthy you never heard him coming, not even when he was wearing shoes. Definitely not when he was barefoot.
Which is why you almost choked on your bite when his sleepy voice resounded right behind you.
"What are you doing out this late?"
Snuggled into the corner of the garden sofa on the patio, with your knees pulled up to your chest and a small plate secured between your thighs and boobs; you enjoyed a sleepless, end-of-the-summer night with a huge slice of cake.
"Nufin' " you mumbled, quickly chewing to swallow.
Steve's eyes narrowed as he studied you in the darkness dispersed only by some fairy lights.
"Are you eating cake?" He arched his brows in disbelief.
"No," you squeaked out.
And got a forkful of more cake.
"It's two in the fucking morning and you're not sleeping, but sitting here eating cake-" Steve shook his head, but suddenly stopped.
There was a glint of realization in his eyes and you stuffed your mouth full, so that you didn't have to answer questions that would fall out of his mouth any second.
"It's two in the morning and you're not sleeping, but eating cake." Steve repeated, his voice turning into that pleasant velvety scratch that created a wet spot on your sleeping shorts.
"You're pregnant."
He didn't ask. He stated.
So sure of his assessment. Of the discovery of the little secret you for some reason tried to hide from him, though you knew you couldn't keep it away for long.
It wasn't anything bad to hide. Especially not since it was exactly what Steve wanted. What he declared on his birthday.
You weren't really sure why you kept postponing telling him he succeeded in knocking you up again.
"Tell me," Steve demanded, stepping closer.
He gently took away the plate and put the cake on the patio table, out of your reach. Then he leaned down, bracing his hands on the backrest of the sofa, caging you in.
"I'm pregnant," you whimpered, suddenly feeling much hotter than a few moments ago.
"Fuck yes." Steve's victorious groan melted on your lips as he kissed you.
In a swift move, he picked you up and switched your positions. He made you sit in his lap, while he sat on the sofa. He tugged your shorts aside and then he head of his cock was nudging at your entrance.
#nicestgirlonline#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#soft!dark steve rogers#mafia!steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#nesting
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Enforcer/Steve (well you just knew I will be all over him 😁 )
"Who touched her? I will ask this only once."
Thanks for playing babe! 💜
Cherry Masterlist
enforcer!Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings: mention and brief depiction of violence
You wanted to say it's no big deal, but with how still Steve was, how rigid his muscles were as he clenched his fists, you didn't dare to speak up.
Staying behind his broad back, you twisted the hem of your dress between your fingers.
This was gonna get messy and you were to blame for it.
Well, not exactly. You wouldn't take the blame for the whole incident, but Steve's potential reaction was kinda blown out of proportion. You think.
You asked him to pick you up from a club where you celebrated your friend's birthday. Everything would be fine, if Steve didn't notice how your face lit with relief upon seeing him and if your friend didn't mention that some asshole slapped your butt as you were passing one of the booths.
Steve's soft, blue eyes filled with hellfire. His nostrils flared.
He walked into the club; people scattered out of his way as he prowled forward.
He glanced at you over his shoulder and without prompting you pointed at the booth filled with laughing, drunk men.
Steve stopped at their table and the mere looming presence of him made them go quiet one by one. They stared at him, some too drunk to sense it was a bad idea to antagonize him, others confused.
"Who touched her?" He asked in a voice so sharp and cold it may as well be a blade itself. "I will ask this only once."
Gazes landed on you, then some moved to the guy on the right, with his hair slicked back and sunglasses atop of his head even inside the club.
"Hey. Can't blame a man for-"
The asshole's reply died in hos throat when Steve's fingers clenched around his neck.
It wasn't in the way he sometimes choked you. No, this was nasty. His fingers were digging hard, palm crushing the man's larynx. The flow of air was cut off completely, so fast the man could only flail his arms around without even scratching Steve.
Some of his friends jerked up, ready to intervene. But Steve was deadly fast.
His gun was out in other hand in a flash; steady arm pointing it at anyone who dared to intervene.
#alexakeyloveloki#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#soft!dark steve rogers#steve rogers x you#steve rogers imagine#steve fic: cherry#soft dark!steve rogers
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Sentence Prompt: I'm so proud of you for using your safe-word.
AU: Ruby Gardens
I'm not in the BDSM world but stories where the Dom almost immediately praises their Sub for using the colors/safe-words really make me feel more inclined. I hope that makes sense.
More precious than rubies
Dom!Steve Rogers x plus size reader
warnings: none really; BDSM setting; Dom/sub dynamic; safe, sane and consensual; safewording; aftercare; communication;
Your heart was still pounding like crazy, even though Steve's hand provided that warmth of support as it rested on the small of your back.
You felt cold and shaky. And it had nothing to do with the fact you were naked. It was the wave of cold sweat that turned your skin clammy; anxiety filling your stomach with acidic dread.
"Is it okay if I hold you, or do you prefer me to step back?" Steve's calm, but worried tone reached you through the haze of chaos that was still messing with your brain.
You blinked a few times, trying to find his face in the blur of colors and focus on it.
Steve had a beautiful face. Chiseled like a perfect statue of Adonis. Nah, no Davids nor Adonises or other heroes could compare to how handsome you found him.
But mostly it was his eyes - so blue and so full of emotion - that held you captive.
"Hold me, please," you managed to croak out.
Steve didn't hesitate, instantly pulling you off the bench and lifting you up into his arms. Your dynamic has been developing for a few months now, but you were still stunned with how easily he could pick you up and carry you. As if you were light as a feather, though the scale showed something completely different.
"Sorry for all of that," you sighed once he settled you two down on a small chaise.
Steve adjusted you in his lap, so that you were more comfortable. He ran a finger along your cheek, before tucking it below your chin and tilting your head so your gaze met his eyes.
There was a slight frown marring his gorgeous face, but it wasn't annoyance. More likely worry.
"Never apologize for using your safeword," Steve said. "Whatever happened that made you do it, it was significant and heavy for you."
The scene wasn't hard. You doubted Steve even got you into half of what he planned on doing to you after you negotiated the general scenario for the evening.
Being under his care usually made you feel so safe and taken care of, that sometimes you considered revisiting some of your softer limits with Steve to see if maybe he'd like to explore some of them. Because with him you were willing to maybe poke at them and check them out.
But the blindfold, while not a limit, made you anxious.
At first you thought it's because it's a step of sensory deprivation and you had very little experience in that. Then your other senses started heightening, hearing most of all.
Instead of focusing on the sounds of Steve moving, or what implements he could be preparing to use, your attention went to the sounds a little further out.
To the laughter. Some other club members, who probably were just engaged in some conversation, or were watching a brat get disciplined. But your brain instantly screamed at you with horrified humiliation - that they were laughing at you.
At how you looked. How pathetic and ungraceful, and comically ugly you had to look there. Especially right next to Steve.
"I'm so proud of you for using your safeword," he assured you. "Not only because it let me know that you were in serious discomfort, which is something I as a Dom should look out for and react in time."
"But because it means you were taking care of yourself."
Steve's eyes softened as you stared at him a little confused. He changed his hold on you slightly, now running his fingers along your naked body in a warming caress.
"Upon feeling distressed, you didn't withdraw, didn't dissociate, you didn't grit your teeth to push through it. You safworded. You set a boundary and demanded it being recognized."
"You put yourself and your well-being first.
It stunned you. You didn't think of it the way he saw it, but now you started to understand why Steve said he was proud of you.
Not only in the BDSM aspect, but for your personal healing.
And Steve supported that more than anything else.
#anonymous#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#dom!steve rogers#more precious than rubies#ruby garden#ruby garden series
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Birthday sentence prompt for BAD MOON RISING:
“When I said ‘whatever helps you sleep at night,’ I didn’t mean this.”
I don't think it goes the way you were hoping for. Or Ari was 😂
Bad Moon Rising
Alpha shifter!Ari Levinson x omega!shifter reader
warnings: none; fluff and teasing;
“When I said ‘whatever helps you sleep at night,’ I didn’t mean this.” Ari huffs, making a face.
But he still opens the book and flips it over to the chapter he paused on the last time.
You roll your eyes at Ari's pout, taking a sip of hot chocolate (with a dash of Ari's bourbon).
"Oh, I know what you meant." You set the mug on the nightstand and fluff your pillow. "But I don't feel like being fucked to sleep. You said whatever and I want you to read to me."
You lay on your side, curling one of your legs and placing both hands under your cheek. The covers are rolled away, though you know it's not for long. If you shiver for even a second, Ari will be tugging them up to your nose (and you will promptly kick them back away).
Your Alpha learned that you liked the comfort of warm blankets while the temperature in the bedroom was almost freezing and you told him not to be surprised when you snuggle under layers like a toasty burrito. Which is how he picked up the habit of covering you up.
The thing is, that was your method when you were sleeping alone.
Since you have a mate, the covers aren't really needed. You choose to roll close to Ari for warmth. The Alpha burns like a furnace and it's enough to engulf you in heat.
"If you want to hear my voice, I can tell you about all the ways I would love to help you fall asleep," Ari glances at you, his back resting against the headboard.
"Has it occurred to you that maybe I just want to fall asleep dreaming about Aragorn?" You tilt your head to see Ari glowering at you.
"Or that your voice simply lulls me."
You're not usually a teasing type, but poking Ari from time to time is amusing.
His frown deepens and you blow him a kiss.
"When you're the one having trouble sleeping," you say, putting your hand on Ari's thigh, "we will have lots of sex. Now be a good mate and read, please."
Ari lets out another exasperated sigh, just for good measure. Then he adjusts his grip on the book and starts reading aloud. In that deep, velvety soft voice of his that chases away your anxieties.
#buckets-and-trees#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson imagine#alpha!ari levinson#shifter!ari levinson#wolf!ari levinson#bad moon rising
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Sweet and stained
Sweet and stained
soft dark Nick Fowler x female reader
a Hades/Persephone inspired AU set in modern times, with an implied mafia background
summary: You live in the sun and blooms, under your mother's protective wing (or is it cage?). When Nick Fowler strolls into your life, he brings a wave of thrilling fresh with the darkness that follows him.
warnings: soft!dark Nick Fowler; sort of dub-con; kidnapping; manipulation; light corruption kink; mentioned breeding kink; a bit of smutty scenes included;
Author's Note: This is a trope that won the poll for my birthday celebration story. Honestly, the way I imagined this fic at first is completely different from how it turned out. Less sharp than my usual style and more of a gloomy, start-of-the-autumn poetics. Still, I hope you'll enjoy!
You never knew black could shimmer so brilliantly, even though you saw its various shades in petals of unique flowers. The night sky’s ink was dotted with sparkling dust, too, after all. Yet it was only now that you noticed the luminosity of dark, as your head tilted back on the softest pillows and your gaze roamed the supple garlands of the black canopy.
Dark interior, which scared you the first time you took a step inside, now engulfed you in heady warmth. Like a sip of spicy hot chocolate, so rich and thick it coats your tongue and fills your belly with a bitter bite to its general sweetness.
There’s more spice than sweetness to your captor, but you began realizing he remained the only one to treat you with softness. As if he truly cared.
Perhaps he did?
Maybe the charm and patience he showed you at the beginning were as true as the ruthless possessiveness with which he bound you to him.
You had years to find that out. Decades at his side, to unravel the scary mystery that was Nick Fowler.
Your husband.
His face above you, as he sat beside your sweaty, spent body, shone a serene glow. His eyes a shade of clear lake, with monsters luring in the depths.
You still feared him, but Nick gave you enough proof that he wouldn’t hurt you.
Even if his plan for you was weaved out of nefarious intentions.
He set aside the glass of water which he brought to your lips a moment ago, soothing your throat that dried out from how much you screamed for him.
It’s for the best that you couldn’t speak at the moment, your breath still ragged; since you didn’t know what you’d say to him after all the debauched things he did to you. Post sex pillow talk was never your forte, but it was even more awkward after willingly spreading your legs for a man who ripped you from your life as one plucked a flower from the ground.
Silently, you watched Nick once again pick a crystal bowl from the nightstand, a shiny barrow of pomegranate seeds peeking above the rim.
He devoured some moments before he indulged in your dripping pussy.
Seeds glistened ruby richness on Nick’s fingers as he brought them to your lips; his own mouth stained with the juice. He left traces of the red sweetness on your thighs and mound, mixing pomegranate flavor with your combined spend.
Your lips wrapped around his digits as he spilled fruity grains on your tongue. One of your hands rested on your belly, just below your navel.
Nick has repeatedly filled you with seeds that night, not only those of a pomegranate.
It made you tremble. His intent was clear; not only shown in relentless, deep thrusts, but dark and dirty words whispered into your ear.
Your body shouldn’t react so eagerly to his plans, arching and spasming in whorish acceptance as he ordered you to take it; as he fucked you through one climax into another, telling you of his heir swelling in your womb.
Disgust should have filled you, instead of arousal. Because as much as you believed Nick was going to dote on you, his owning of your body in every sense was driven by revenge.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
With the wide rim of the sunhat on your head limiting your view and your focus on the pots dancing away from you (the wind that day was wickedly playful, knocking over the smaller pots every time you righted them), you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings.
People walked past, some gleefully talking about plants, others arguing on what was or wasn’t needed in their garden. On a sunny day like that, Demeter Gardens had as many customers as a fun fair on weekends.
The staff was really busy on days like this, doubling their efforts, because it was usually when your mother chose to grace the place with her radiant presence - radiant to the customers, an absolute harpy to her workers.
There were many traits you admired about your mother. The most inspiring was the fact she was a barely out of teens single mother who managed to raise you and start a business that flourished into a state known brand.
She had her faults, too. Like the high expectations and harsh tongue when someone didn’t meet her standards.
It went both for her employees and her daughter.
Working with plants soothed you, so at least your future as the heiress to the empire your mother wanted you to take over didn’t look as grim. Even if some evenings you cried into a pillow, because it wasn’t what you dreamt of at all.
Growing under her wing, you didn’t get much of a chance to explore what exactly you could dream of, what called out to you, but you simply knew that running a gardening business wasn’t it.
You never dared to tell your mother that. Enough times have you suffered her cruel words, snide remarks regarding anything that strayed even a step away from her grand plans. Demeter had ambition rivaling many moguls and she poured it onto you as well. The only praise you got was when you won any sort of competition, or mentioned business plans.
Your mother may have only spiteful words to say about your absent father, but she possessed the same self-centered core as him. Rotten and unkind.
How plants flourished under her hands, you had no idea.
Though she didn’t spend much time with them anymore, leaving it to people who really liked working with plants. You liked the peace and quiet it offered, which is why you spent almost every day at the gardening center.
“Excuse me?” A smooth male voice startled you.
Not only with how sudden and close it was, but also because it was so unusual in a place mostly filled with cheery, loudly speaking families or couples.
You turned your head, pulling the rim of your sunhat up with your dirty fingers, so you could see the person better.
Your gaze met a pair of blue eyes, with a silvery gray swirl in them, that chilled you like an autumn rain pattering on your skin. A shadow of stubble along a chiseled jaw, which would feel under your fingertips like frosty needles of the first hoarse coating November leaves. Subtle, pink lips curved in a smile, but its charm didn’t fully cover the sharp threat of teeth that could sink in ‘till blood spilled like in spooky nightmares of autumnal season.
This man looked like the stillness of dying nature, engulfed in fog and chilling to the bones. A dark spirit amongst the lush greenery and blooming life that stretched all around.
And yet he was more beautiful than any man you ever laid eyes on.
“Yes?” You swallowed nervously, mostly to wet your suddenly dry throat. “Can I help you?”
“I’m sure you can,” he said softly, his voice a brush of cool silk.
“See, I usually hire garden designers to take care of any greenery around my business buildings, but the one at my actual home? I wanted to work on it myself.”
“Understandable.” You smiled at him. “Having your own garden is a personal thing. Working on it helps you connect with the place that will be your oasis.”
“The problem is, I quickly realized I have zero idea what I’m doing. But I’m a stubborn bastard, who’s still adamant on chasing what he set his eyes on.” He sighed dramatically, making you laugh.
“Anyway-” he shook his head- “I’m Nick. Please, help me out?”
You gave him your name, taking his hand when he outstretched it. His fingers were calloused, though it’s the cool brush of metal of his rings that sent tiny spikes of sensation through you.
“What exactly do you need my help with, Nick?” You took off your sunhat and squinted slightly as the sunlight soaked your vision.
“My tastes are… unique.” You knew he spoke about aesthetic preferences, but couldn’t help hearing the double meaning behind it. Especially with the sensual flick of his tongue over his bottom lip.
“I’m mostly out the whole day,” Nick continued explaining, “coming home only in the evening. Which is when I wish to spend most time in the garden. To relax and enjoy its secret beauty.”
“You want night bloomers.” You guessed, grinning ear to ear.
Flowers blooming in the evening and through the night were one of your favorites. There was something about them that called out to you. Perhaps the fact they were overlooked under the radiant sun, hiding their secret beauty to flourish in shadows, when no one could judge them.
There was also the aura of mystery about them, pairing so well with your fondness for gloomy and gothic stories.
“See? I knew I was asking the right person for help.” Nick mirrored your smile; his made you a little weak in the knees.
“You have to get the Moonflower, of course.” You moved and gestured for Nick to follow you, as you led him to the far end of the center.
“I have to?” Nick chuckled, matching your step to walk beside you rather than behind you.
Shoulder to shoulder with him, you suddenly realized he was taller than at first sight. Much warmer than what his dark aura suggested, too. And his scent was a toe-curling reminder of spicy mulled wine sipped by the fireplace.
“Yes!” You nodded, brushing your fingertips along the plants you passed on your way. “Moonflower is my favorite. It’s similar to the morning glory. You won’t see its full beauty now, but I assure you it never disappoints.”
When you finally reached the corner with potted plants - from smallest to those quite grown already - Nick bent over to examine it closely. He gently trailed the heart-shaped leaves, then plucked the yellow card attached to one of the thin stems.
“Moonflower, or moon vine,” he read aloud, “is a night-blooming morning glory that opens in the evening and stays full until morning.”
Nick straightened and turned to you, gaze slowly dragging up your body. When his eyes met yours, there was a glint of something cold and dangerous in them. As if for a split of a second you saw a flash of instrumental triumph.
“Opens in the evening and stays full until morning,” he repeated the words, his voice dropping an octave and filling your belly with unexpected heat. “I like it already.”
“Uh, well-” you squeezed the rim of the sunhat in your grasp- “Yes, see, I told you. You’ll like it even more when it blooms in your garden.”
“I know I will.” Nick affirmed solemnly.
Something about his gaze, or perhaps it was the set of his jaw, quickened your pulse with a warning that his intent was more than just a harmless flirting. There was this tinge of danger about him, fizzing on the tip of your tongue with a spicy aftertaste.
If you licked his skin, the cold darkness may swallow you, but everything inside you would set aflame.
Apprehension tingled inside your chest, like wind chimes’ pearly tune that lured with their woeful longing. Reason whispered to take a step back, but feet moved forward on their own, drawn to the inner flame that may as well be straight from hell.
It was hard to break eye contact with Nick, but you feared if you didn’t look away he’d mesmerize you into selling your soul. And your body. Body which awoke with yearning to have his fingertips trail along your skin the same way he touched the plants.
Somehow you managed to turn away. The sun’s warmth returned to your cheeks, caressing your face with soothing lightness the second you stepped away from Nick’s gloomy aura.
“You should also get night blooming Jasmine. It smells so sweet.” You rambled about plants, clutching onto the topic like it was a lifebuoy keeping you afloat from sinking into fascinating, but scary depths that were Nick’s eyes.
“And Angel’s Trumpets!” With your presentation, excitement returned.
You were helping create something personal, something so very unique. However Nick chose to use your advice, you had a blissful sense of creating something yourself. A garden that may as well be yours, since it catered to your aesthetic and needs as well.
Nick ordered so many of the plants you listed that not only did you run out of stock, but had to set up a delivery from another center. You weren’t sure how big Nick’s garden was, but considering the amount of plants it had to be a king-sized land.
The thought of roaming it in the late evening, with dusk hiding hues of purple and gold in a shroud of ink black, and moonlit petals opening up for the life of creatures of the night; it made your heart yearn.
You’d love to wander through that garden.
For someone who ran a gardening empire, your mother kept you both locked in a metal and glass skyscraper, in a two-floor penthouse with (amazing, but contained) view of the city.
It was a cage.
As you watched Nick walk away after he paid in advance for the order, though he took with him some chilling sense of danger, you envied his freedom to simply walk away from the sun and the blooms.
Many would be jealous of you, you were aware of that. Living among lush greenery and constant sun seemed wonderful. It was to an extent. But this pristine, spring and summer only land, didn’t allow difference. There was no real room for unusual, dark undertones of wicked hearts that would love to have wild mushrooms spread over their lawn instead of snobby hydrangeas.
When a cooling cloud shielded you from the scorching sun, coming along with Nick as he returned the next week, you felt like breathing freely for the first time since he walked away.
This time he asked for fruit trees which he wanted to scatter among other types. The idea immediately struck you as unique, making your heart jump.
Most of the time people divided their gardens - strict lines and areas for vegetables, separating them from decorative flowers. Mixing them up seemed chaotic, but so wonderful. What a surprise to walk through gemstone garlands of wisteria to find juicy peaches at arm’s reach. Or to tread through ferns and moonflowers to discover gooseberry bushes hidden amongst them.
When Nick came on a third week, your excitement at his presence and news of his garden overpowered any sense of reason that kept you at a certain distance with him.
And when he mentioned that keeping a routine and being at the center on the same day, same hour every week could be dangerous.
“Someone could watch you, learn your schedule and plan how to steal you, Moonflower.”
Having Nick call you Moonflower - the word rolling out on his tongue in a hum of wind, chilling to the bone, but igniting that deep-soul yearning - stirred feelings that overpowered the warning.
Or maybe you started living for that rush of thrill Nick’s shadow elicited. The only spot of darkness allowed in your life. Enriching it thus.
Still, fear resurfaced with tentacles of cold wrapping around you and plucking you from the sunny spot in broad daylight as you trotted to work the week after. On the same day as usual, with a bounce to your step as thirst for Nick’s brand of addictive flavor parched your throat.
The car was black; a polished, obsidian arrowhead spearing the sheet of morning light. The engine’s sound more the growl of a prowling beast than the roar of an unhinged monster.
Despite the speed, it stopped gracefully at the curb, cutting off your route. Nick’s silhouette stunned you as he exited the car; the blue-green depth of his eyes darker than when he walked along with you through blooming alleys.
A smile didn’t have a chance to spread on your lips when his hand covered your mouth, the other arm wrapping around you.
You screamed when he dragged you inside the car, but calloused fingers stifled the sound effectively. Wet tinkle of your cries reverberated against the metal of the rings adorning Nick’s fingers.
Pleading eyes, so full of unanswered questions and fear, didn’t cut through the veil of composure. One had no chance begging their life out of death’s grip and Nick’s hold on you was a finality set in stone, as if the grim reaper came to harvest your soul to lead it to undying gardens for the rest of eternity.
“No need for tears, Moonflower.” Nick took his hand from your mouth as the car sped away.
His touch traveled down your shaking arm, harsh fingers delivering surprisingly comforting caress. He took your hand in his and brough your palm to his mouth, kissing softly each knuckle.
“I’ll make you a queen and treat you as such. No harm will ever be done to you.”
“You kidnapped me,” you pointed out, voice quiet and quivering, though you bravely held his gaze. “That’s quite harmful.”
“It’s only a means to avoid meddling of forces that would otherwise keep you away from me.” Nick rested his head back against the seat. “From what I found out about you, they’ve quashed you enough.”
“You know nothing about me, or my life!” You huffed, squirming back into the corner, your back against the side door.
You were never a physical fighter and Nick made no move to grip or hurt you other than pulling you into the car, so you didn’t attack him. You also doubted you had much of a chance of earning anything beside exhaustion and bruises.
It was pitiful to admit, but you never fought anything or anyone beside the dragons in your head. The rebellion and storm were caged within your chest, mind full of words you wanted to scream at your mother, your father, the whole world. But you never did it. Never felt secure enough in your strength to cut those ties.
“I know you’re dedicated and smart, finished on top of your class, gaining a degree that you never wanted to have in the first place.” Nick replied calmly.
His unperturbed composure was as much soothing as resonating with your usual behavior. Though you sensed that his limits weren’t pushable. If it came to it, his retaliation to being crossed would be severe. Lethal even.
You envied that power.
You wanted that power.
“You have passion for creativity and you are a fucking brilliant survivor.” Those words were spoken with admiration; a brilliant foam lighting up the sea storm of Nick’s irises.
“You don’t love gardening as a business. I doubt you’re even interested in actual gardening work. But you see and love plants, their uniqueness, the details of them. You like their beauty, even the unusual ones. You’re an artist, Moonflower.”
Your heart burst with an intermixture of colorful emotion - a hail of fireworks against the black depth that is your caged life.
“Artists should never be shackled into expectations.”
“Yet you took me, because you expect something from it,” you retorted bitterly.
“I expect nothing beyond you being by my side.” Nick’s fingers circled one of your wrists, thumb pressing against your pulse. “And strengthening the power of my empire.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” There was nothing of value that you could give him. Did he hope for a dowry and connections from your father?
“Just by being with me.” He shifted, crowding you against your little safety corner. “Coming home to you would sweeten every hard day, knowing that I ripped something most precious from the one who took everything from my family.”
Comforting spices of his scent conflicted with the shadows he shrouded you in, painting a picture of a fairy tale that’s twisted enough that it shouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet struggling against the thorny veins of Nick’s plan seemed to have the opposite effect, pushing you further into forests of unknown thrills.
“So I’m a vengeance plan?” You’d prefer it if your voice didn’t betray the disappointment, but it was too late to take back that undertone now.
“Vengeance doesn’t mean burning the world down. That’s too simple and holds no ongoing effect.” Nick’s mouth curved in a scythe of dangerously alluring smirk, his eyes darkening. “Phoenixes rise from the ashes of burnt kingdoms. I rose from it.”
“My type of vengeance is to flourish on the fertile fields of my enemy’s broken ambitions.”
You believed Nick’s every word - that he had the resilience and endurance to build himself from whatever ruin his opponents left him with. It honed him, like hell fire does an indestructible blade.
Many would use that lethal edge to cut the throats of all enemies. But Nick’s revenge wasn’t to bring short term pain and wipe out the others, he wanted them to drown in their suffering, to stretch it out plucking petal after petal of their lush empires.
“You, Moonflower-” he skimmed his fingers along your arm and up the column of your throat- “are my prosperity. My core to thrive.”
“Binding you to me and allowing you to bloom into a woman you always wished to be, whatever form that may take,” Nick loosely curled his fingers around your neck, “will make me happy for I know you’re a brilliant gem. But I won’t hide that it will also crush the rotten heart of my enemy.”
“Seeing you at my side, growing along me and with me-” something about that particular choice of words unfurled heat in your core, like the time he mentioned flowers staying full-
“-will keep the flame of anger and pain consuming her daily.”
“Her?” you suddenly blinked, moving your legs slightly to alleviate the pressure that uncomfortably grazed your folds.
“My mother?” You stared at Nick in bewilderment. “She’s your enemy?”
Nick chuckled, though you weren’t sure if it was at your astonishment or the squirmy movement of your body which he noticed. He leaned closer still, knees brushing against yours. Where the fabric of your summer dress rolled up on your thighs, the fine fabric of his suit pants grazed your skin.
“Your mother may present herself as the survivor against all odds and she is very determined, I’ll give her that. She also became heartless in her need to improve her life and show the world she doesn’t need help, ripping the fortune of others to build herself.”
“She stole from you?” There wasn’t much shock in your response. After all, you knew the backstage face of the gardening queen; the truth behind the sunny smile of the nature-loving new age goddess.
“From my family.” Nick gritted his teeth at the mention. “They took her pregnant under their roof, taught her family secrets of maintaining lush flowers. I was barely four when you were growing in her belly, but I remember her always slapping my hand away when I wanted to touch it, to feel a tiny baby miracle kicking.”
He didn’t say it, but you began to understand the part of possessiveness. The touch he didn’t withdraw an inch once he was able to reach for you freely. Something he was denied, now he ripped it away for himself.
“First she stole the knowledge, then farms and fields.” Nick continued, his voice heavy with ice cold anger. “Came with fancy lawyers and bulldozers, chasing my family away from the scrap of land and the mounds of soil that my grandparents brought from Romania.”
You remembered one time your mother mentioned something about the secret being in the soil, a harpy reflection to her smile when she did.
“My mother’s heart couldn’t take it. My father fled to Romania, finding the only solace in a small square of land where he grew a new hybrid of flowers. Named it after my mother.”
Nick paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. A few breaths and the rage surpassed, leaving the lull of oceanic waves in his eyes. They rocked you as you held his gaze; your body attuning to the pulse of crackling fireplace on a dead cold autumn night that was Nick’s aura.
“I’m not a gardener myself,” Nick shrugged, easing his free hand up your leg. “But I know how to plow through hard and high grounds. I’ve made myself a different kind of empire, though I always remained respectful of nature and plants, as my parents did.”
You didn’t even feel him grip you any harder, yet somehow Nick managed to switch your positions in a blink of an eye - pulling you onto his lap.
One of his hands remained at your throat, thumb gently stroking up and down along your pulsing vein.
“You’ll be my queen. You’ll give me heirs.” It wasn’t a proposition, but a declaration of decision set in stone. “I’ll give you the freedom and power you so desperately crave.”
“What do you know of my cravings?” You hoped to challenge his confidence, to fight against the tendrils of magnetic pull that weaved around your limbs.
“I know you turned my way like a plant does seeking the sun,” Nick’s hand slid beneath your dress. “Keeping so close, coming even closer each time, like an addict hopes to lick a single fleck of whatever gets him high.”
Cool rings pressed into your skin, spiking your heart rate into a paradoxical pasodoble between desire and trepidation. Just like the nights you used your own fingers to the image of Nick fucking you in the night garden.
“I know each time you thought I was coming to visit, you wore a shorter dress.” His fingers on your thigh inched further up. “This one today? If I met you inside the gardening center and you’d bend over to show me moss arrangements, I’d get a peek of your ass.”
He did get that peek.
When he bent you over his bed that night. After having you sign your name on all the legally (illegally too, undoubtedly) binding documents as a paid, stoic-faced registrar officiated your wedding. The ink was deep red, as blood that one spills for the devil.
Red was also the wine Nick brought to your lips in a crystal glass. The rich, thick taste of it was a bland mist compared to the burning magma of Nick’s lips against yours, molting away the taste of your previous life as he sealed your contract.
One hand on the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he fed you his sinful tongue, the other buried beneath your sundress. Firm, relentless fingers eliciting tangy, warm rain from between your thighs; watering the soil of the garden filled with plants that you picked. That you loved and Nick provided for you.
He made you mark the land as yours, as he marked you as his. Your voice an enchanted cry of spell that was Nick’s name.
Then he took you to the bedroom - the heart of the underworld kingdom.
Though the dark interior sent a ripple of unease down your spine at first; it was like stepping into a cold, mountain stream after days of hiking in blinding sun. Then the jewel undertones of onyx and cuprite engulfed you. Shimmering black curtains of the canopy parted its wings for you, as Nick led you to the bed.
You never strayed from dirt, but it only stained your hands and clothes as you worked with soil. The dirt spilling from Nick’s mouth as he took you seemed to twist your body into inhuman arches of pleasure, reshaping your mind so it became greedy for the sizzling impulses his filthy words elicited.
Tightest cunt.
Delicious hole.
Breedable pussy.
Mine.
Tears trickled down your cheeks - a salty passage from a girly life of obedient silence into empowered if dark womanhood. Briny dew altered into shy sweetness as your moans stretched, tears turning into those of overwhelming pleasure.
Nick showered you with it. With his tongue and fingers; with his cock that filled you with girth and the precious spent he cursed to take root in your womb.
He led you like a queen, just like he promised, once you were able to stand on your trembling legs after hours of being both worshiped and owned. A silk robe in a color of a red so dark it might as well be woven from arterial blood floated around your frame as Nick took you into the garden.
His fingers intertwined with yours. His pace adjusted to yours, not once rushing or slowing you down.
Focused on admiring the beauty of silvery moonflowers and creamy bells of Angel’s Trumpets, you didn’t notice Nick’s eyes were only on you.
#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#nick fowler x reader#nick fowler x female reader#nick fowler x you#nick fowler imagine#nick fowler fic#hades x persephone AU#my writing#sweet and stained
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For your birthday banquet:
"I hope next time you'll know how to behave." To find the light we first must touch the darkness
Touch The Darkness
dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; forced relationship; depraved wicked things really; public indecency; knife play; mild violence (not against Reader);
Gaze fixed on the ceiling, chasing the stroboscope reflections of the club's lights, you tried your best to wipe the image of the man kneeling on the other side of a small table in the VIP lounge.
You tried not to think of how he blanched when Steve ordered him to stretch out his hand on the tabletop, nor how Bucky gripped the man's wrist and held it down pinned to the surface.
Lights and deep bass of music alone wouldn't effectively take your attention of the fearful picture that was painted right before you, but Steve's hands on your body did.
He had you sprawled on his lap, your back to his chest, while he curled ring-adorned fingers of his left hand around the front of your throat.
You tilted your head back obediently, resting it against Steve's shoulder. Your hands curled into fists on your thighs, sparkly fabric of your sequined dress bunching in your grip, as you felt the tip of a blade tease down your chest.
Steve dipped it in the valley of your breasts, lightly scratching the roundness. He rubbed the flat side of the blade over your covered nipple, which instantly stiffened at the debauched stimulation.
You didn't want to think of the others watching the scene; of that man, one of Steve's new goons, on his knees directly in front of you.
You also didn't want to be turned on by any of this, but as Steve moved the knife between your thighs it was already too late to deny it.
He flicked his wrist, pushing the ornamental handle of the knife under your dress and over your mound. Your back arched, a needy hiss escaping your lips when he pressed the butt of it against your clit.
"Are you wet, Princess?" Steve's voice was a darkly decadent seduction.
"Yes," you murmured, having learned a while ago that he always made you admit the truth and it was better to do it right away than challenge him into proving it in most depraved ways.
"Who are you wet for?" He asked, rubbing your clit in steady motions.
"You, you bastard," his low laugh at your hiss only made you wetter.
Steve licked a stripe up your throat then sucked on your earlobe. your nipples hardened, your hips bucking against the pressure between your thighs.
Then he slipped the knife's handle beneath the soaked fabric of your panties, coating it in your slick.
You couldn't help the moan that bubbled out of your lips, feeling a scorching wave of shame wash over you.
Suddenly, Steve withdrew the knife and his body moved; and yours along with him.
He bent forward, your head lolling down and eyes opening to watch in terror (and arousal) how he imbedded the blade in the man's splayed hand.
Blood spilled and the goon grunted in pain (not screaming, to his honor and appreciation of the others present), but he didn't dare to jerk away, or curse Steve.
"She's wet only for me," Steve tone was a shard of ice, sharper than that knife. "She's needy only for me. She's to be touched only by me. You don't ever get to even imagine coming close to her. Am I fucking clear?"
The man nodded, gritting out a painful Yes Sir.
"I hope next time you'll know how to behave," Steve spat, "or I'll drive that knife into your skull."
The man hasn't touched you with a single finger, didn't attempt to grab, but his stupid remark on how women got wet for any bad boy was paired with a glance your way. Which was enough for Steve to react.
You don't think it was to defend you; definitely not to defend women in general. It was about comparing Steve's level of power to a pathetic bad boy.
And maybe about the very faint suggestion that anyone beside Steve could turn you into a pathetic, dripping mess.
No one could. Even you knew it by now.
It wasn't about the guns, or the knives, or ropes, or being choked. It was about it coming from Steve. It was the extension of his power, not the implements themselves.
#jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#dark!steve rogers#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark mafia!steve rogers#touch the darkness
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Happy early birthday!! 🥳🎉❤️ A celebration prompt for you!!
To Find the Light!Steve + “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
Have fun! 😈😘❤️
Weeee! Thank you for the birthday wishes, Siri! 🥰💖 And for prompting me to ruin us all 😏
Touch The Darkness Masterlist
dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings: dark mafia Steve is a warning himself; you should know better than to proceed; brain-ruining s*x; very brief mention of gun kink; is this how I would love to start my own birthday? Hell yes!
"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Steve's breathless chuckle barely registered through the pounding fog of sensations that overtook your brain.
Your whole body.
It felt like every particle of your being was strained and vibrating from one of the most shattering orgasms you've ever experienced in your life.
Steve was the first man, only man, to made you understand why they called it a little death.
This time it felt like a big, neverending death. One climax stretching into another, making you scream and cry, until you lost all control of anything that was happening to your body.
With his cock still buried deep inside your clenching cunt, Steve moved his fingers - those slicked with your juices from where he kept rubbing and pinching your clit over and over again.
He gripped your cheeks, squishing them, and turned your head to the side.
Your blurry sight sharpened so slowly, brain still not catching up with what was happening beyond the fact that you were swimming a powerful orgasm's high.
But the nightstand finally came into view and your mind picked pieces of reality.
First your gaze landed on the gun. The same that was shiny from lube and your own wetness after you worked yourself on it at Steve's command.
Then you noticed the neon green numbers flashing on the alarm clock. 00:01.
It was already the next day. Day of your birthday.
And Steve made you come, screaming for him and gushing, right as your birthday started.
"It's your special day, Princess." Steve forced your head back and slipped his sticky fingers between your lips.
"I'm going to spoil you," he started rocking his hips again.
"Though-" he smirked, his next thrust turning so hard that your body bounced and tears trickled from the corners of your eyes- "you may not remember much of it later, since you're already so fucked out."
#stargazingfangirl18#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#dark!steve rogers#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark mafia!steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#touch the darkness
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Another celebration ask!!
OVA with To Find the Light!Steve, The Sacred Hunt!Curtis, and Ruby Garden!Lloyd 😏
Love you! ❤️😘
Siri, you certainly know how to celebrate properly 😈 Call it a clenching party they way my holes clench at the thought of these three specimen.
Theoretically I already did one OVA for that Steve, but there's always room for more. Especially sine I'm such a fucking weak slut for him I'm ready to offer him more of my holes to use 😏
Oral with Curtis. He's a hunter, so he relies on his senses a lot and he just fucking loves the scent, taste and feel of your sweet, tight pussy. He's all about exploring - mapping the stretchmarks on your thighs and how they change when he reaches that juncture. There's also where your scent turns heady, more spicy. He trails his fingers through your curls, teases the seam of your folds before delving deeper, opening the juicy fruit. Curtis loves to inhale your smell, growl how fucking tempting it is and how he'd always sense you getting wet for him. He licks you with gentle strokes at first, being stealthy and patient in his aim to get your clit to engorge and your walls to flutter. Then he's on you like a starved man. He's merciful with his first kill, leading you straight to your peak and allowing you to fall apart. After that he takes his time feasting on you.
Vaginal with Steve (this time). The moment that bastard realized how drippy your cunt gets when he puts something against/in it? That's it. That's the moment he decided it belongs to him and he will explore it thoroughly. Seeing how messy you get, how your opening stretches around whatever he slides inside, feeling your walls clench around it? He just fucking loves penetrating your pussy. It feels best on his cock. When he pushes the cock in and you make that sound - that pitiful needy moan, betraying how much you crave it. You're tight and hot and so velvety; it's like for a moment he basks in that innocent light of yours, it's heaven, before he fills you with his darkness and makes you as depraved as he is. Beside his cock he loves stretching you on his fingers; fucked you with his gun, as well with the decorative handle of a special knife he had custom made just to use on you.
Anal with Dom!Lloyd, because how can you not? 😏 He's a sadist, he gets off on pain and tears and your discomfort (consensual, of course). And taking that tightest hole after he's already turned you into a weeping mess from the whipping he gave you? That's a cherry on top. He knows your pussy is sopping and you're craving him to fuck you, which is why he'll torment you further and take your ass instead. He uses barely enough lube, so that when he stretches you it's still uncomfortable, but nothing tears. One of Lloyd's enjoyments is playing a game with you where he pushes a plug in your ass and makes you come, then after you orgasm he replaces a plug with a bigger one. And then bigger, and then bigger, and bigger. He mocks you, saying he'll stop when you won't come anymore from having your ass painfully filled.
#Siri#stargazingfangirl18#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#curtis everett x reader#curtis everett x you#curtis everett x female reader#the sacred hunt#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x female reader#dark!steve rogers#touch the darkness#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x female reader#dom!lloyd hansen#ruby red whine#ruby garden
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A BIRTHDAY PROMPT FOR THE SACRED HUNT!
“I promised I would keep you safe, and I intend to keep that promise.”
The Sacred Hunt
hunter Curtis Everett x female reader
warnings: none; a bit angst mixed with hurt/comfort;
The ground was mostly dry. While it was seen as problematic on usual days - in fear of poor harvest and drought; it served well as you ran along Curtis.
Because your feet weren't leaving visible prints.
Your breath shortened, as you tried to keep up with Curtis' long, fast strides. Your heart hammered, as the sounds of panic taking over your village was dying out the further you got away from it.
Curtis led you deep into the heart of the forest, treading through wild greenery in paths that were hard to recreate by anyone other than him alone.
Ground started to feel softer, moist beneath your feet, but the ferns grew abundantly in here and would cover the trails. If anyone even managed to find themselves this way.
Finally, Curtis slowed. He led you to a slope of vines and broken trees. You took careful steps behind him; his arm constantly outstretched for you to grip in case you lost balance.
He made you squat behind a decayed tree trunk and then pulled away a thick curtain of vines and dried leaves that covered a deep cavern. A natural cave within the slope, with thick roots of above trees building it's structure.
"I could've hidden in our cellar," you say, but crawl forward as Curtis pointed you to.
"No," he shuffled inside after you, "if the raiders reach our village before we manage to attack them on their route, they'll burn everything. Set every cottage on fire."
He dropped the sack he's been carrying on his back and then cupped your face.
“I promised I would keep you safe, and I intend to keep that promise.”
His kiss was a fierce promise. Not for the first time making you thankful that he picked you, this resilient hunter who would rather drown the world in blood to get back to you than even for a second make you feel like this was a goodbye.
"To the both of you," Curtis rested his forehead against yours, one of his hand moving to touch the swell of your belly.
Then he was crawling out of the cave, leaving you with a sack of supplies and two heart beats fluttering in fear.
You glanced last time at his face before he dropped the curtain of vines down, shielding you from the dangers.
#just fyi Curtis makes it back and they're all safe to return to the village#buckets-and-trees#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#curtis everett x reader#curtis everett x you#curtis everett x female reader#the sacred hunt#hunter!curtis everett
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Happy birthday! ❤️ How about some OVA?
💕 Thanks Navy! 🥰
We're diving under the cut with that, because you know I'm gonna make it dirty 😈 And I twisted it around this time a bit, too. Usually I answer from the perspective of the guy, why he likes the particular hole, but this time I'm gonna switch the tables.
V: Andy. He was the first man (and the last man) to make you really experience the stretch of a cock. Maybe it's the size of him, but perhaps it's the technique. Andy made you addicted to him fucking you, has you begging to put it in and let you warm him at least. To the point that throughout a casual day you will randomly feel this emptiness and yearning to be filled. No toy could compare, not even if all you imagined was Andy. You need his cock to sate that need. Andy showed you that certain angles will make you see the stars. As well proved, that you may cry out of discomfort and still come hard when he pushes deep deep in, until his balls press against your skin and his tip nudges your cervix.
O: Steve. Your thighs clench at the mere though of Steve's mouth. You never knew a man who was so into eating you out and who had a mind set on claiming complete victory over your spent body. Once Steve has his lips on your pussy, he decides when it's over. And it's never when you beg for it, sobbing. It's when you're half-fainted, unable to scream anymore. What was also a mindblowing novelty with Steve - the blowjobs. You quite liked them before, always made you feel powerful how you could reduce a man to pleading and calling you a goddess. With Steve it's different. He praises you, yes, but he still is in control because his cock feels like the highest mountain peak you're determined to reach, but never can fully take it.
A: Ari. Your ass was a sacred ground no one ever got to play with. Until Ari Levinson strolled into your life. He didn't ask permission, but he also didn't take it against you will. No, Ari whispered such filthy fantasies of what he was going to do to your tightest hole, how he was going to make you feel, that in the end you begged him to do it. He was dirty about it, which should - according to all logic - make you put a stop to it all, since the dirty, lewd side of fucking that hole was one of the main reasons your mind never allowed it. But with Ari it was that obscene side of it that made you crave it more. His big finger alone made you cry and come all over Ari's thighs, where he had splayed across his lap while stretching that ring of muscles. When he finally fucked you with his cock, you screamed promises of becoming his good slutty girl if he only kept fucking your ass.
#navybrat817#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#andy barber x reader#andy barber x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x you#ova
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Happy birthday!!!
For the birthday celebration I'd like to ask for OVA with the mafia men - Nesting Steve, Touch The Darkness Steve, Sweet Thrill Ari 😎
Thanks for the wishes and for playing 🥰
whore-kay! We're going under the cut for obvious reasons 😂 unholy filth below, be warned!
Nesting Steve gets the V, because at the end of the day its your sweet pussy that he longs to be inside of the most. You take him so well and you're just so breedable 😏 He loves spending hours fucking your tight cunt, feeling it flutter around him and get so embarrassingly wet from the smallest friction. Sure, he enjoys playing with your other holes, but he loves nothing more than to stretch you on his dick and fill it with his cum. Besides, your mouth or ass tire too easily and he would never hurt you, but your pussy can stand the pounding and then take him the day after, even though it's sore.
Sweet Thrill Ari is a wonderful caretaker of his cute, obedient pet and his care includes a lot of Oral. He gets so turned on when he gets to lick you while he has you plugged, with that bigger plug that has a soft kitty tail. Ari spreads you out, tugs on the tail so you feel the plug moving against your rim, and makes you tremble and cry from how good his mouth feels as he feasts on your drippy pussy. And because good kitties need their milk regularly, Ari makes sure that you get it straight from the source - choking on his dick at least once a day. If you spill a single drop of his cum, you'll licking it off of any surface it landed on.
Of course this bastard got Anal 😂 Touch The Darkness Steve is all about corrupting you and ruining you in most disgusting ways (because that's how you come the hardest, even though you don't want to accept that simple fact yourself). He's got you squirming from his fingers breaching that tightest hole. Got you coming from mere threat of thrusting his big cock in there, not to mention how hard you came when he actually fucked your ass with it. And he completely broke your brain when he lubed the muzzle of the gun and then pushed it in your tight rim...
#anonymous#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x you#soft!dark steve rogers#soft!dark ari levinson#dark!steve rogers#mafia!steve rogers#mafia!ari levinson#nesting#sweet thrill#touch the darkness
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Biteofcherry's Birthday Banquet
Dearest moots, followers and random lurkers, you are invited to a special celebration event! 🎉 On the weekend of 2nd to 3rd September I will be hosting my birthday extravaganza on here, which will include:
a modern, soft!dark Hades/Persephone AU with surprise male character
sentence prompts - send me a single sentence + a fic universe pf your choice (any from my Masterlist) and I will write a short scene with it
FMK, OVA, and similar questions
kink rating (which I will rate for one to max three chosen MMC)
any types of asks
Asks for the birthday games are open starting now, but I will be replying to them on the weekend!
Thank you all who want to participate ❤️
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I used your idea from this ask 🫣 I’m sorryyyyy you caused a brain worm and now I have to get it out.
You have one scene with three different Doms, each doing one aspect of the scene with you:
- One will tie you up (shibari)
- One will tease you without orgasm (edging)
- One will strike you with whatever item(s) are on your safe list (impact)
I may have died imagining all the possibilities here 😳🥴 so it took me extra long to get the last fried brain cells to work on a reply
Master Steve would start you off. He's patient and strategic in how he waves the rope around your body. He's gentle, but not easy on you, meaning the rope is tight enough for you to feel restriction and have it grazing your skin. And he just moves and bends your body as if you weight nothing, which adds extra melting factor. He's probably into predicament shibari, too, so for example ties the ropes in a way that if you want to ease the strain around your throat it rubs a rope tied knot right over your clit; and if you want to give your pussy a break, it means the rope will give you that light choking.
Then Master Andy takes over, rousing your body with touch and words and teasing. He combines tender touch with quite filthy words, then switches it to hard pinch served with soft cooing and praises. He mouths at parts of your skin unmarked by the rope, sucks on your nipples too. He takes your lips in a sensual, deep kiss, then - when you try chasing his mouth with a needy whine - he fucks your mouth with his fingers. As he kneels down you're almost thanking havens, but Andy only moves the rope a bit around, inspecting how wet and desperate your pussy got.
They leave you on the verge for a long pause, only for Master Ari to step in with a variety of impact toys (it's a personal pick, because I'm no masochist and while I love a prickle of pain with my pleasure Lloyd's levels of impact play are a big No for me).
Ari's hands are first that you feel. Heavy enough for you to feel the burn of that slap. Though he gets you to a trembling point, for him it's only an intro to warm up your body for more. A wicked swish of a crop lands on your butt and thighs, a few gentler but still stinging lashes on your breasts. He undoubtedly taps the tongue of the crop against your drippy pussy, but it's more of a tease. A prelude to a small flogger that you almost laugh at, before you realize it's meant for small places - like the one between your thighs. That's how he gets you to cry for release.
The question is: which one of them takes you?
#vonalyn#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#Dom!Steve Rogers#Andy barber x reader#andy barber x you#Dom!Andy Barber#Ari Levinson x you#ari levinson x reader#Dom!Ari Levinson#ruby garden
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I hope this type works too 💞 kinda kink rating/assigning but!
Branding / Dacryphilia / Sensory Deprivation
Bucky Barnes / Lloyd Hansen / Ransom Drysdale
Ohh, this one took me a long moment to think, because I could imagine assigning every kink to each of them, so I had to really think it through.
Branding with Ransom. He's a spoiled, entitled dick who likes to show off and throw it in everyone's faces that something belongs to him, or that he owns something that ups his status. So branding you as his for the whole world to see? Yeah, that's his thing. It could be something small, but visible, like making you wear his signet. Or a diamond collar with the first letter of his name. It could also be more nefarious, like a permanent tattoo with his initials.
Dacryphilia with Lloyd. I can't help it, Lloyd is always the one who I imagine getting turned on by seeing your tears. Especially when you look up at him with those big, doe eyes, tears streaming down your face and ruining your make up. This goes only for things he does to you, because if you're crying because of someone else then that person is dead. Nobody makes you cry, only him.
Sensory deprivation with Bucky, because he's the one who will guide you through it with deep care. Bucky's very attentive, he will react to every twitch of your body, reading your responses. He can be mean about the deprivation, but it still will be careful in how he proceeds. He wants to have you completely at his mercy, dependant on him, and give you sensations out of your mind.
#Chi 💕#vonalyn#biteofcherry's birthday banquet#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you
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Biteofcherry’s Birthday Banquet
Dearest moots, followers and random lurkers, you are invited to a special celebration event! 🎉 On the 2nd September I will be hosting my birthday extravaganza on here, which will include:
premiere posting of two new fics
ask games and little treats
Yes, there’s still quite a lot of time. However! In this poll you decided my main way of celebrating should be writing a new story which you will pick! To achieve that, I first have to let you choose the topic 😆
And this is how it will happen:
From today, until 30th June midnight, send me ideas for fics you’d want me to write!
An ask with your idea should: include a trope (professor AU, mythology, enemies to lovers, vampire, etc.), additionally you may also add preferred mood (fluff, angst, dark). Don’t send me characters; since I’m the birthday girl I will be picking men I want to fuck write about. However, you can ask for including two (or more) men in your preferred scenario 😎
Ideas that repeat the most, or call out to me the most, will be put in a poll in which all of you can vote.
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Birthday game ask!
Cast your mutuals as DESIRES
Mhmm, and those desires are named Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers and Ari Levinson 🤣
power - @stargazingfangirl18
independence - @labella420
curiosity - @buckets-and-trees
acceptance - @rookthorne
order - @sunshinebuckybarnes
saving - @dumbgothbunny
honor - @bluepinkangel
idealism - @witchywithwhiskey
social contact - @brandycranby
family - @navybrat817
status - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
vengeance - @targaryenvampireslayer
romance - @vonalyn
eating - @eralen 🧄🍞
physical exercise - @the-iceni-bitch
tranquility - @jobean12-blog
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