#butterbabyflapjack

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

THIRST Thursday (Wip Wednesday but I forgot)

Tagging @butterbabyflapjack uno reverse card lol

Ship: Miraak/Hermaeus Mora x Dragonborn!You

Warnings: threesome, lost of virginity, dubcon

Miraak doesn't move immediately, instead, he grinds slowly getting the soft moans from your throat; he tested to be sure you weren't speaking out of eagerness.

Miraak ignores the dark green appendages that wrap around your breasts playing with them while his hands are gripping your waist. Another tendril slipped between the two of you to toy with your clit as he did before.

He is quite fond of how you feel, my emissary,

You wish Hermaeus was silent so as to not break the sort of immersion of this union being private.

Most grateful to be your first, a perfect fit.

Embarrassing yet a part of you is pleased to know Miraak is equally a mess. The mask is stripped from his face by his master, revealing the face of a Nord man.

Somewhere both your Redguard and Dunmer ancestors are cringing.

You stare, by Azure, you stare at him as if he is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen. Even though his skin is pale with dark veins like cracks of corruption, his eyes are black with glowing green irises, long black hair with grey mixed in. He leans forward which only drives him deeper into, which gets you moaning loud and distracting you.

[shintin]

WIP for Vash the Stampede

Seeing the sight, your hand slowly slipped down and a faded smile bloomed on your pale face— a miracle in this springless hell.

The curtain of the half-open window fluttered lazily with the morning breeze, letting the sun rays to rest on his half-covered shoulder blades and run their greedy fingers through the golden waves of his hair. An enraged sea of sunflowers bounded by rough, rocky beaches on the side, oh, his undercut glorious from where you watched.

He had a huge gash across his chest, several cuts on his arms, wounds on his shoulders, scars all over his back and alongside his legs. You wanted to memorize each blemish, slit, and stitch on his body with your lips and never forget that this man, he was a walking story, marked by scars. 

You couldn't look away from him, your mind unable to process the perfection of this happiness. He was so stunning you could hardly fathom that he was yours, that he wanted you, that he loved you. You couldn't even hear yourself think over the rush of blood in your ears. The sight of him sleeping next to you, vulnerable and relaxed, was doing wild, desperate things to your mind. God, the fantasies you’d had about him. The places your mind had gone.

p.s: Yep, I'm writing a one-shot about this boy.

p.s.2: It's gonna take me a week to edit +16k words.

@butterbabyflapjack baby, sorry i'm late, but finally i have a wip ❤

[whimsyvixen]

I need to be a better friend and keep my promises so @butterbabyflapjack I'm sorry for the delay but I swear to you I will have this done by Valentine's Day

[l0sercat]

@butterbabyflapjack thanks for the tag💕

Thirst Thursday

Kuzuryu was at his desk working on his never ending stacks of paper. He promised you he would give it a break and spend time with you. You were never the patient type when it came to him so, you thought of ways to get his attention.

You walked until you were by him and you pushed his chair back a bit. He was taken off guard and immediately looked up at you. "What?" He says, you didnt say anything but you smile a him and drop to your knees.

You made your way underneath his desk and fully situate yourself. His eyes widen as he realizes what your trying to do. He coughs and his face heats up slightly. He moved his chair and makes it to where his crotch is only a couple inches away from you.

You lick you lips and unbuckle his belt and pull down his briefs. His cock springs out and you grin. You take it into your hand and give it a few slow strokes. You give a few kitten licks and then a big lick on one of his veins. He shivers and grips his chair. You kiss the tip and then start to suckle on it before fully taking it into your mouth.

Tagging without pressure: @kinkyniragi

[flaggermuser]

Aura and moodboard tag game

Thank you both for tagging me @venus-haze mwah mwah mwah <3

Rules: Take this quiz & make a moodboard with your results

Rose: lace, blown kisses, milk tea, paper fans, pillows, ballet slippers, fairy wings. your essence is rose: you are the young at heart, the gentle. you cherish existing without pretense; the future seems unsteady, so instead you reminiscence about the past and live in the present. it is hard for you to grow because you feel you have already bloomed. you are the youthful. you are the dove. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of pink, magenta, pearl, and lavender, who share your idealism. you are also drawn to the practical ivory and beige, who will help you grow and show you that you can accomplish by yourself. however, you may struggle to get along with the focused personalities of sage and cream who don't watch out for you.

Tagging with no stress: @dravenxivuk, @butterbabyflapjack, @blindmagdalena, @raccoonspooky, @chromeedwardian

Feel free to tag me if you take part

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

Do you think you might do some works for The Outlast Trials? I haven’t played it yet, but I absolutely will and I can’t wait to get way too turned on, playing a game about being hunted and brutally killed by lunatics. I’m so happy Outlast is back 😁

I’m actually writing a Pusher fic for a little collaborative challenge with @butterbabyflapjack

I got no clue where I’m gonna go with this, but I’m excited to write for a psychopathic degenerate again. :3

[vaya-writes]

Last Line Game

Thanks for the tag @love-and-monsters !

I’ve been agonising over a chapter of Serving the Serpent. Sometimes only going one sentence per day 😭 luckily the last sentences I wrote (missing a lot of connective tissue beforehand) are tasty:

“You’re sleeping in the bed tonight.”

‘What? I-’

He cuts off her protests. “You are not fine. You look dreadful. You’re taking the bed, and that’s an order.”

Panic begins to fill Briar at his commanding tone. To her humiliation, her eyes start to blur with tears. She hasn’t cried in months- and hasn’t a clue why they’re flaring up now.

Isen softens. “Legs. I’ll take the floor. Okay? I’m not going to touch you without your permission. Hell, I won’t even look at you if you like. But I cannot have my aid stumbling around like the undead. You will sleep in the bed tonight.”

-

Tagging @butterbabyflapjack and @eruden-writes because I’d love to know what they’ve been writing lately.

[tawus]

WIP Sunday, I guess (since I couldn't be here on Wednesday)

Tagged by my girl @butterbabyflapjack 💖

A snippet from the upcoming 3rd chapter of my Tangerine x Reader fic called Sophisticated ("Tangerines are sophisticated" lmao).

Read it here: link

The flaring lines of his lashes were fixed and unmoving in deep concentration. The curved line of his single gold earring glinted in a circle as he assessed your room, its structure, its possible escape routes. The wavy lines of his hair were slicked back, though not as perfectly as they were the first time he sat down before you, the lines of his natural curls now animated, which made them feel even more freeing. All of his lines began electrifying for you, their protons flickering and splintering the air in neons – and at this point you closed your eyes. You realised you weren’t you anymore. Your brain was no longer reliable. And the timing couldn’t have been worse.

“Room service, Miss!” the same female voice repeated with thinly veiled impatience and more aggressive knocking on your door.

“Can ya shoot a gun?” Tangerine asked under his breath and you opened your eyes. He wasn’t electrifying anymore, at least not at this moment. Good.

You shook your head No, eyes wide on him like Bambi’s.

He sighed and looked away, “Nevermind. You’ll probably end up shooting me in the arse anyways.”

The electric locking mechanism of your door whirred and clicked. The woman had a master key!

I'm shit at tagging so whoever sees this post, do it. That'll be me tagging you ❤️

[guilty-pleasure-writings]

Whitney x F Player Hurt/Comfort Fic

Whitney isn't there to stop some students harassing his slut. But she looks so pathetic afterwards that he supposes he should probably look after her.

A Degrees of Lewdity fanfic. Contains references to the source material, references to rape, assault, and implied past medical abuse. Minor amounts of blood and injury. The fic itself is wholesome though. Ya know, as far as Whitney fics go.

1800 words - divider by firefly-graphics - @butterbabyflapjack

Masterlist

When you’re late for class, Whitney is irritated. He’d only showed up to bother you, if he’s being completely honest. Watching you squirm under his touches and try desperately to focus on your work, was quickly becoming one of his favourite pastimes. It’s made all the better on days you give in, spreading your legs or slipping under the desk. 

Ten minutes pass and you don’t show. It’s uncharacteristic, and concern creeps, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind. He dismisses it, pretending you were stupid and had gotten lost on your way to class. He sighs and resigns himself to a boring day. Perhaps he’d track you down later.  

Halfway through the lesson the door opens. 

River doesn’t bother looking your way. “Tardiness. Detention.” 

Whitney smirks at the punishment. Then you step into the classroom. 

You hardly spare River a glance, instead trudging straight to your desk. You move with a heavy limp. There’s a defeated slump to your shoulders and you keep your eyes trained on your feet. 

He takes in the finer details as you round the desk. There’s cum in your hair, and blood is smeared at your hairline. Your skirt is torn and your thighs are covered in fluids. You smell like piss and when Whitney catches your eye, there’s no recognition in your own. 

“Oi, Teach. I think Player needs to go to the infirmary.” 

River doesn’t turn from the blackboard. “Leave her be, Whitney.” 

“She’s literally bleeding.” 

River finally turns. Takes in your tattered appearance with widened eyes before addressing the class. “Page sixty. Copy and solve. I don’t want to hear talking.” 

They cross the room and crouch before your desk, meeting your eyes. “Player.” 

You blink. Frown. “Yes?” 

“Are you okay?” 

Whitney watches as you take in your surroundings. Shift your weight and wince. “Sorry Professor. I must have been on autopilot.” 

“What happened?” 

You crinkle your nose. “Got held up by some classmates.” 

River leans into your line of sight. “Player. Are you hurt?” 

“I’ll be alright.” 

Whitney chooses that moment to poke you in the side. 

You hiss, nearly falling out of your seat. 

River doesn’t look impressed. “Whitney, take her to the infirmary.” 

Out in the hall you lean against the bully. Today he doesn’t make a big deal out of the contact. Not as he watches you guard your chest and listens to your unsteady gait. 

“Who did this?” 

You shake your head. “I didn’t recognise them. ‘Think they were underclassmen. Couple ‘o boys.” 

“How many?” 

“Four? Maybe five? Dunno.” 

His jaw clenches. Five other students dared to touch the girl he’d so clearly marked as his? He’s so aghast that he almost misses the way you plant your feet and sway. 

“What?” 

“I don’t want to go to the infirmary.” 

He lets out a huff, trying to ignore the way your pathetic display makes his chest ache. “Why the fuck not?” 

You look at your feet. Mumble, “I didn’t let them. I tried to fight back.” 

A surge of pride goes through him, even as he shrugs. “So?” 

“They might be there too...” 

He grips you by the arm and tugs you into motion. “I fucking hope so, slut. But you don’t need to worry about that.” 

The infirmary is, mercifully, empty, save for the nurse. Whitney scowls at her. 

“If they were here, they’ve cleared off.” 

You grab his jacket sleeve. “Or they haven’t stopped by yet.” 

He raises a brow at your touch. You must be seriously unnerved if you’re relying on him to make you feel better. 

Still, he shrugs and takes up post beside the door. “We’ll see.” 

The nurse takes you behind a privacy curtain, but Whitney hears your examination. His rage builds with each question you answer, until he can barely sit still. 

“Can you move this?” 

“No. Hurts.” 

“And here?” 

“The same.” 

After a minute. “I think you’ve cracked some ribs. You’ll have to go to the hospital.” 

You sound panicked. “No. No hospitals. If it’s cracked, they won’t do anything anyway, right?” 

“Sure, if they’re just fractures. But you need an x-ray. If there’re any major breaks, they could do some serious internal damage.” 

Whitney watches their silhouette put a hand on your shoulder. Doesn’t want to imagine what kind of pathetic face you’re making to merit the gesture. 

“I’ll give you a painkiller. Does anything else hurt?” 

“My head.” 

“Look here.” Pause. “Follow my finger.” Another. “Any dizziness?” 

“Some.” 

“Blurred vision?” 

“At first.” 

“I’ll patch up that abrasion, but I think you have a concussion. Even more reason to go to the hospital.” 

Whitney shifts from foot to foot. Grits his teeth. Some stranger had been rough enough to concuss you. He’s absolutely livid. 

His ears perk up when your voice lowers. You try to be discreet, but he still hears every word. 

“I need some plan B.” 

His anger increases tenfold.  

The nurse recovers from her pause. “Okay. Do you want a kit too?” 

You sound bitter. “And do what with it? Take it to the police?” 

“Fine. Have you had plan B before? Shall I explain the side effects?” 

You sound defeated. “I’ve had it before...” 

Whitney suddenly feels unwelcome. He knows he’s intruding. He’s supposed to stay. To keep watch for any of your assailants. But he can’t help but turn away, guilty. He wonders how many times he was the reason you had to go to the infirmary, asking for plan B.  

Deciding it’s one of the rare occasions where it would be best to display tact, Whitney steps outside. Waits by the door, menacing any who might approach with a glare. 

The bell rings. Whitney waits until you’re finished. 

You step outside and start when you nearly bump into him. “You’re still here?” 

He rolls his eyes. “You leaving school or what?” 

“N-no. I’ll finish my classes.” 

He shrugs. Walks you to English. Doesn’t say a word. His silence is unnerving. It’s not until you’re at the doorway that he bids you farewell. 

“I’ll see you after school, slut. Don’t be late.” 

He waits until you’re seated at your desk before stalking off. Pulling out his phone and opening his regular group chat. 

‘Some guys touched my girl. Find out who.’ 

--- 

 Whitney waits for you after school. You’re late. River hadn’t bothered rescinding your detention, despite the obvious reason for your tardiness.  

You look no worse for wear when you trudge outside, ten minutes later. It seems Leighten went easy on you today. At least, he sure as fuck hopes so. 

“Got some errands to run, slut,” he links his elbow with yours. “You’re coming with.” 

He doesn’t get your usual eye roll, or the bemused twitch in your lips. You just look tired. 

He shoots a stare at the rest of his crew. “You lot fuck off. Unless you’ve finished that job..?” 

His friends scatter, though there is a grumbled protest or two. But they won’t stick around. Not the ones who know him. Who can see the shadow of his anger, still hovering. Who’d received his message this morning. 

You don’t react to his friends’ dismissal. Only startle when he starts walking, pulling you along. 

You’re not in the mood to protest or ask questions. You’re not heading towards the docks, and figure Whitney can’t have anything worse planned than his occasional seaside jaunt. Besides, you’re alone with him. His treatment towards you without an audience tends to be... more forgiving. 

But when he turns onto Nightingale Street, you hesitate.  

“Where are we going?” 

“Where do you think, stupid?” 

He doesn’t expect you to plant your feet and pull your arm from his. 

“No. No hospitals.” 

“You heard what the nurse said.” 

“I’m not going.” 

He doesn’t understand the tears pricking your eyes or the way you cross your arms. It’s been a long time since you fought him on anything. 

“Why the fuck not?” he fights to keep his voice down. He honestly doesn’t know why he’s bothering. It’s not until the glazed look in your eyes comes back that he remembers. 

He tries again, gentler. “Babe. Did something happen?” 

You look down. “I just don’t like the hospital. The head doctor... he’s a fucking creep.” 

Whitney raises his brow. He doesn’t get to hear you swear often. Then he grits his teeth considering his options. Resigns himself to the most tedious one. 

“I’ll stay with you. If you’re going to be such a baby about it. 

He sets his shoulders before grabbing you and pulling you along again. He’ll bitch and moan about it later. Right now, he just wants you to get that x-ray. Even if it takes holding your stupid hand through the process. 

--- 

Whitney is true to his word, and stays by your side through the whole ordeal. He doesn’t speak to anyone, just looms behind you, glaring at each medical professional you cross. 

Dread grows within you in the waiting room. But when you’re called to be seen, it’s by an older woman. Not Harper. You could vomit with relief. 

Whitney follows you anyway. Brokes no argument when the doctor raises her brow; asks who he is. 

There’s no privacy curtain in the little room you’re seen in. Whitney watches with increasing fury as you undress. There’s a slew of bruises across your torso. Some look like handprints. He holds his tongue. Clenches his jaw. 

The x-ray reveals several fractures, but no serious breaks. She prescribes you some painkillers, explains how to manage a concussion, and writes a letter to Leighton, excusing you from school for the next few days. 

You hadn’t expected that, and clutch the printout in both hands when you exit the building. 

“Wish I got to take time off every time I got into a fight,” Whitney complains once outside. 

He’s irritated when you don’t respond. He gave you the perfect setup for a joke there.  

Still, you look positively haunted, and he decides to let this one go. Puts his hand on your back and pushes you towards Domus Street. He’s tempted to walk you home, but doesn’t want to seem like he’s fussing.  

Besides. It’s not too late to join his mates on the errand he gave them. 

“Go home. Sleep it off. I’ll see you next week, slut.” 

--- 

The next day several students are sent home early because of how badly they’re beaten. Somebody is pulled out of their locker, with chipped teeth and a fractured jaw. Two others are found splayed on the floor of the bathroom, ribs cracked, and noses broken. Another was left unconscious behind the bike shed. 

Whitney is late for class, but his bloodied knuckles escape River's notice. Settling in to his seat, he can’t help but let slip a self-satisfied smirk. 

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

WIP Wednesday (Thursday lol)

tagged by @butterbabyflapjack

This was the monsterfuckery the tacos have created lol

vampire spawn!tav x astarion

Kanchelsis is the God of Vampires and Debauchery, of course fucking you in this form would happen! Your purring is used as if to soothe him as your wings wrap around his waist as if mimicking a hug. Your claws hold him by his arms to keep him steady, your strange tongue exploring his mouth– Also like you are fucking his mouth with it as twice he nearly chokes on it.

Astarion has seen and done some pretty debauched things in his life, but screwing a shapeshifted bat creature thing that is his lover, well that is a new one.

When you are satisfied, you lay him down upon the makeshift nest you created once you had stolen a sheep. It was instinctual. As if you had not planned to return to camp.

"Easy, lover." He assures you he isn't going anywhere, his kisses upon your face and hand petting the soft fur on your stomach that trails downward. The whimper and whine before you nuzzle his chin is clearly trying to get him to go further, you crave him. 

[jittersbitters]

When you and your favorite mutual are the same type of deprived human beings.

😌Good soup😌

@butterbabyflapjack

[shintin]

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

Hello @butterbabyflapjack and thank you, my cute squirrel 💕

So far my favs are:

Table No. 13 (Gojo Satoru x Reader one-shot) for Jujutsu Kaisen fandom

The Hickey on Your Neck (Vash the Stampede x Reader one-shot) for Trigun fandom

because with these two, I was able to reach and touch my readers' hearts ❤💙

(ps: I mean, I made them horny cry :D)

[possumteeths]

First line meme

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven’t written ten fics, share as many first sentences as you have.

Tagged by @miniature-space-hamster ✨

I have a feeling that all of my recent works are going to be so telling about my descent into house of wax madness.

Empty Wrapper Pretty Face: Bo Sinclair x Reader, there's a gloryhole. He gets edged and has to punch a wall like a toddler about it.

The bathroom key in your hands is attached to what you think is a gator’s foot trapped in yellowed resin.

Fate, up against your will: Slumberparty Massacre 2's Driller Killer x Reader. Very silly. It really is a slasher movie where the killer is in love with the final girl.

You have a crush on your guitar tutor and it’s starting to get embarrassing.

Hey girl, are you a livestock farmer? Cause you really raise my meat: Bubba Sawyer x Reader in a Dead by Daylight setting. Big cannibal is a big puppy actually. He thinks ur skin is very nice and he kinda wants to wear it but also you have some rlly nice boobs. This one was a commission and I loved every moment of writing it.

It’s not often that the cannibal thinks of home.

Hand in Unlovable Hand: Bo Sinclair x Reader. Exploring his mommy issues. Wahoo.

Bo doesn’t believe in ghosts, but his mother didn’t seem to give a shit about that.

After crying wolf for the third godddamned time, you start to sound a little repetitive: All tha sinclairs x Reader. You're a rougarou and you've crashed into corpsetown to give these losers a run for their money.

You’re hungry.

Girls Rule Boys Drool: Billy Lenz x Reader. Phone freak gives you a horny kinda gross phonecall to whack off. You bully him about it. He meows and you laugh at him.

Billy’s not sure where he is.

Girl, who taught you how to use a fuckin' iron?: Bo Sinclair x Reader. captain asshole is mad about something or other. Sigh. More horny crimes you suffer through in corpsetown.

While twisting his hand in your hair, Bo can't help but think that you looked like a fucking mess.

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better: Brahms Heelshire x Reader. Brat x Brat showdown. He finally gets some pussy in this fic so good for him.

The fridge door opened with a damning noise and Brahms resisted whimpering while a sudden spike of terror threatened to stab him in the gut.

They'll Pay You A Thousand For A Kiss & .50 For Your Soul: Bo Sinclair x Reader. Ur in the basement babes. It sure is horny but at what cost.

For the first time, you noticed that the camcorder in your basement prison was duct-taped to the wooden dowels your captor used as a tripod.

Mirror to Mirror: Homelander x Reader. You're an ehoe camgirl, who's whole gimmick is being homelander and using Vought brand toys. He thinks its a huge compliment because he is stupid.

A little notification at the top of Homelander’s web browser helpfully told him that he’d visited this particular page close to a hundred times at this point.

Yeah. For my last ten fics, there are FIVE that are Bo x reader. I have a problem. bjhgfkglyv.

Tagging: @ventiswampwater @visceravalentines @gaeadene @butterbabyflapjack @flaggermuser

Anyone is welcome to say I tagged them and tag me in this challenge lol!!

[l0sercat]

@butterbabyflapjack thank you for the tag<3

Just a little something from the upcoming Buggy story...

WIP Wednesday

The footsteps approach and you hear the patient scream before they were cut off. You heard a gurgle then a thud. Your eyes watered and your hands shook. The footsteps entered the room and just when the hand grabbed at the door you struck. You kicked the door knocking the person back and you clutched the knife. You plunged it deep into the person's skull and kept stabbing. They were obviously dead but you kept stabbing over and over.

Was it anger, fear, or both? You only stopped til their face was completely unrecognizable. Your hands were covered in blood and your face had some splatters as well. You let out a scream of horror. You couldn't believe you killed someone. You looked at your bloody hands still holding the knife. Your mind raced and you could hardly focus.

-----

The hands seize you and hold your arm behind your back. You grunt and drop to your knees. He towers over you and grins. "I think I'll take you" he says and his hands carry you alongside him. Your heads spins and your breathing becomes erratic. "No please" you mutter before passing out.

---

That's when the door opens and the clown who took you is standing there. "Hello my dear!-" he shouted with a grin but stopped once he noticed you were crying. He paused and frowned seeing your broken form. "Well that's no good your supposed to be happy when I arrive" he tsks and walks over to you "Now tell me dead what's got you crying?" He asks with fake sympathy.

Anyways that's all I will share but don't be disappointed it will be posted reallll soon ;)

[flaggermuser]

Tagged by the wonderful and insanely talented @alastair-fics mwah mwah mwah <3

Questions come from this post

11. Link your three favourite fics right now

So for this, I'm going by how many times I visited it on AO3

Tangled Threads & Heartstrings by @butterbabyflapjack - total number of visits: 1128 Domestication by Goblinintime - total number of visits: 327 Tender Threads by @sehtoast - total number of visits: 56

21. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

One day - I don't hold my works in high regard and tend to view them as distinctly average so it would be difficult to collaborate with someone else who is insanely talented.

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers

Umm... fuck... okay...

Forever My Queen - (Stranger Things) Eddie Munson/F!Reader

Parasite - (Dead By Daylight) The Blight/F!Reader

A Rose-Scented Miasma - (Stygian) The Outsider/F!OC

Twilight Zone Credits - (Oxenfree) Alex/Jonas

The Walls, They Breathe Hot - (The Boy) Brahms/F!Reader

tagging @gomakeawaffle @apraxvalith @athena-writes-i-guess @butterbabyflapjack @sixx-writes