winxsource | FTWS KM 2023

FTWS KM 2023

Please post your prompt in the comments of this post.

Remember, in the SUBJECT of the comment to use the format: “CHARACTER X CHARACTER + KINK/TROPE (TW: XXXXX)” (If there's no trigger warning, just leave this bit out).

In the comment itself you can expand on your prompt, be as vague or as specific as you’d like!

Don’t forget to select the ANONYMOUS option. That way you don’t have to create an account to post a prompt, comment, or fill.

To fill a prompt, click on REPLY in the prompt comment.

Please write your fill first in a word document/google doc and then paste it here, or provide an AO3 anonymous story link, seeing as if it breaches any of the rules above it will be deleted. Back up your stories! If your story got deleted for improper tagging, you're welcome to upload it again with the correct tagging.

THIS KINKMEME HAS BEEN CLOSED. NO MORE PROMPTS OR FILLS WILL BE POSTED.
THE ENTRY WILL STAY UP SO YOU CAN ACCESS THE PREVIOUS PROMPTS AND FILLS.

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It started out as nothing more than a simple makeout session after a few drinks—

Until Beatrix had begun teasing Stella with the idea of being fucked by her. Telling her all the things she could do to her, and perhaps some things that she wants to. Stella falls for it all and is left waiting in anticipation.

Bonus points for the following:

- The dirty talk is portrayed in a way that stays true to Beatrix's character (she is very alluring— think first season Beatrix with Riven in Dowling's office)

Saul and Andreas are both omegas and deeply in love but pressure is building around them to find an alpha to protect them. Strong willed and stubborn they refuse, their love is only for each other. It's only a matter of time before an alpha steps in and tries to claim them both by force, and their powerless to stop them.

Either they can end up with the alpha or one of their friends can step in and claim them instead before they end up belonging to this evil alpha. Anything you want as long as Saul and Andreas get to stay together

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ftws_kinkmeme/works/45252475

here you go OP, not much but it's a start, I hope you like it

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45256081/chapters/113854147

I have plans to fill this one but it might be after the kink meme has ended that I will actually get around to it because the other fills I've taken on have been longer than I had originally intended

I looooved this, such a loaded start! Can't wait to see the rest of the chapters!

Thank you for this fill, anon!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45259447

I'm sorry if this isn't really what you wanted OP but after I started writing it just happened so here you go. .

„Ben out.“ Her tone cut through the room but with her icy eyes still focused on him it felt more like she wanted to slice through him. Saul could feel the fiery anger scorching him across the room the tension begging a similar flame to rise in answer within himself. It blazed underneath his skin, a twisting bundle of heat in his gut. Ben’s gaze flickered between them for a moment considering if he should try and negotiate to avoid the unavoidable fallout. But it took only one decisive jerk of Farah’s chin for him to lift his hands in defeat and abandon ship. A year ago he might’ve stayed to try and smooth out the waves. Back then he had still believed their love was stronger than whatever childish differences tore at them at the moment. Hell, Saul himself had believed that at some point. But by now they both knew better. The resigned slump of Bens shoulders was as much damnation as anything. Even for him there was no sense in getting between their explosive altercations anymore.

The door had barely clicked shut behind him before they jumped each other. Her body crashed into his just as his hands reached out. Saul clawed at her, fingers digging into the smooth material of her blouse without any regard for the object and he could nearly hear his ex-wife’s nagging voice complaining about wrinkles in the fabric. He bunched it up even more for good measure.

Their mouths clashed, more teeth and tongue than lips as she hungrily pressed against him. She was a flame, burning him everywhere their bodies met. He had always wanted her, but never like this, never as violently, as all consumingly than now. It had started right after they both signed the divorce papers. As soon as that sweep of ink on paper had dried, all grim triumph had vanished from him, leaving something hollow that he had no desire to closer inspect. It irked him beyond measure. How dare she still affect him. The documents he just signed finally cut them apart, so why was she still in his mind, in his heart? It set his nerves alight with anger and something else, something he spotted flashing in Farah’s eyes just minutes later before her lips crashed against his own in the dark parking lot of their attorney. All that was soft between them had been sentenced to death with their paired signatures on the divorce settlement. What remained was sharp and unyielding, barbed wire wrapping around them. They were bound painfully and inescapable.

And he hated her for it. That she was still here even after one year, still so deeply imprinted on his mind that he couldn’t let go. Whenever he made the decision to leave he ended up being pulled back as if tied to her by a string that was stretched too taut. The harder he pulled away, the harsher he was thrown back against her. More often than not lately they ended up like this, clawing at each other with wild abandon. Partly because it was convenient. Mostly because it was them.

Her fingers were in his hair, tugging insistently. Directing his jaw. Like hell, he would give in like that. He used his body to push her back until her slim frame was pressed up against the wall. She grunted at the impact, catching his lips between her teeth. Contrary to what she had once told him, his wife had always liked to bite.

Pulling free of the kiss, he tongued down her neck leaving a few marks of his own on her soft skin. She still tasted the same but now he felt like swallowing her whole instead of contending with small nips. She moaned and her hands that had been groping along his sweater tugged impatiently until he ripped it off. Her fingers greedily roamed his chest and shoulders, biting nails leaving searing trails of pleasure. To even the score he pulled on the flap of her blouse, intend on ignoring the many buttons and just pull it over her head as well. Her protest was short-lived but her wrists caught on the unopened cuff.

Her breathy “Fuck.” resonated in the air between them. Instead of granting her time to pull out of her silky shackles, he held onto the twisted bundle remaining of her blouse, pinning her hands over her head. His other arm was helping to support her weight as her slender legs wrapped around him but he still had his mouth to take advantage of the exposed skin in front of him. The lace of her bra felt even flimsier between his teeth as he pulled it up and away from her breast.

“Saul you-“ She hissed lowly as he harshly sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. He let his teeth graze her soft flesh in warning before applying more pressure. Her gasp reverberated through her torso so he soothed the bite with his tongue, still not freeing her struggling arms. Her retort was a pant in his ear as she tried to roll her hips into his own to increase friction. “Fuck, I hate you.” In answer, he only bit down harsher her body trying to twist away from him and towards him at the same time.

But it didn’t take too long for her to finally free her arms and latch onto him again, her lips hard and unrelenting on his own. Her fingers tore at him like she wanted to peel off his skin to reach what lay beneath and he imagined his own to do the same as they roamed whatever part of her he could reach. Frenzied hands tugged and pulled until the last layers fell and skin slid against skin. Saul swallowed the next curse that fell from her lips as he slid into her heat, stifling her moans with his mouth.

Her nails dug into his back with the familiar sharp ache and he panted against her collarbone as their bodies moved not with but against each other. Harsh and fast, desperate for relief. But desperate for something else as well. Something deeper, something he could not reach no matter how hard he pounded into her, no matter how deep she buried her teeth in him. A dull ache within him that he couldn’t pinpoint no matter how he moved and stretched. So he drank their stolen moments like the whiskey he had been drowning in right after their divorce, a new addiction to replace the old. But while alcohol had numbed him this made him feel alive.

Too soon they collapsed onto the couch, still a mess of sweaty limbs and shaking muscles. He felt his heartbeat thumb in his ears until it slowly faded to the silence of the room. His back still ached dimly and the clock on the wall ticked but for a second he closed his eyes, relishing the moment before inevitably reality would pierce through the shimmering veil of pleasure cottoning his mind. Farah stirred above him, extricating her legs from his own. Strands of her honey-blonde mane slid over his chest as she pushed herself up. An achingly familiar sensation that had become all but rare now.

They carried a certain awkwardness, those moments after. They always did. Filled with a sudden awareness that had been lost during the earlier haze and carrying a sense of ramification. Unspoken admissions harshly lit by regained clarity. Not that any of them were ever addressed.

They fucked out their issues. That was it. Talking was not a part of the package. And only in his weakest moments would he allow himself to regret that, regret what they had become.

When they were still married Saul loved basking in the afterglow. Pulling her close and bringing her body down from its height. She looked almost glowing in those moments and he now didn’t dare crack open his eye to check if she still did. He wouldn’t know what he feared more, learning that it had all just been in his mind or seeing that wonderous glow again, knowing that it wasn’t his to enjoy anymore.

So he never looked and neither did she. Instead, they left with averted eyes, wordlessly, silently. Until their orbits clashed once more.

TBC (maybe?)

SOOOO cute, and what an EPIC title. I love Sky overhearing everything at the end.

FYI, you might want to change the tags on this on ao3 to "Bloom & Saul Silva" instead of "Bloom/Saul Silva." In ao3 notation, the "/" denotes a romantic pairing while the "&" means platonic.

Thanks for writing this!

ooooh this was hot and sultry and evocative, amazing job! what a spicy take on this prompt! I would love to read more of this!

Not OP, but loved this fill! You should consider cross-posting to AO3 :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45274093

Dear OP, I hope this won't disappoint <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45272683

Not OP, but daaamn, that was brilliant! You should consider posting it on ao3

Part 2/?, same TW (non-con)

His thoughts linger on the prisoner through his ride of the palace’s boundaries, but by the time he meets with his advisers on the status of the war and finishes dinner, Andreas has almost forgotten about his eventful morning. It’s not until he leaves the great hall and spots Rosalind waiting for him by the doors that his heart skips a beat, remembering what’s waiting for him upstairs.

And it beats even harder after Rosalind debriefs him on the efforts to prepare the prisoner.

He waves her away at his bedchamber and strides purposefully through the double doors. The sun is setting through the western window, adding to the brightness from the torches that line the tapestried walls. Good, all the better for Andreas to see his prize, the man affixed to the foot of his massive four-poster bed.

A smile spreads across his features at the sight. The prisoner has been carefully secured into position, the silver cuffs around his wrists fastened to the top of the footboard and his shoulder-width-apart ankles to the base. He’s been cleaned up, too: his chin bears no more blood, and instead of rags he’s wearing a fine silk robe open at the chest. The contrast draws Andreas’ eyes downward, admiring the pale skin juxtaposed with a thick layer of chest hair in turn contrasting to the cerulean fabric. He’s wearing loose trousers of the same material, a deep midnight black.

But after the once-over, Andreas’ gaze fixates on his favorite accessory: the gleaming silver collar studded with aquamarine, perfectly befitting the prisoner’s eyes.

Eyes that are still glaring at him in a mixture of resentment and loathing.

No matter, Andreas has seen that look more times than he has horses in his stables. With little else for ceremony he turns to his right to shrug out of the thick fur cape he wore to dinner.

“You knocked out one of my servants,” he says conversationally as he unfastens the brooch. “And broke another’s wrist.”

He’s not expecting an answer, and sure enough, the prisoner remains silent with his jaw clenched tight.

“It seems I’m at a disadvantage,” he continues. He hangs the robe on its hook and begins loosening the ties at the top of his tunic. “You know so much about me, being the king. But I know only that your name is Silva, and that you’re going to make this very difficult.”

He gets his first reaction from the prisoner, a jerk of his chin at the reveal of his name. Andreas smirks; the first concession, however minimal, betraying that there’s a man inside that prickly shell, a flesh and blood man that Andreas is going to draw out one piece at a time, savoring languidly before he chews and swallows.

He tugs against the neck of his tunic, enjoying the loosening fabric after a stuffy day, and turns away from his clothing quarters to face Silva. He cocks his head. “Luckily for you, I rather enjoy the difficulties. It’s all a bit more exciting.”
No reaction, not even when Andreas crosses the room to stand before the prisoner. It’s been awhile since he had one this tall; he’s not used to having to look upward even incrementally to meet his courtesans’ gaze. Again he appreciates Rosalind’s dedication to his enjoyment; from this distance he can scent the perfumed oils he prefers, likely smeared on the prisoner’s skin.

“Not too tight, I hope?” He runs one hand along the man’s elbow—earning a suppressed tremor of revulsion that rocks through the man’s whole core—and threads one finger downward to slide between the cuff and the man’s wrist. He’s learned the hard way that while the silver is excellent for show, if he wants his courtesans to last for more than a few days then the interior of the cuff must be cushioned. The leather is snug around Silva’s wrist, tight enough that Andreas can barely slip his finger back out. “Good,” he confirms.

From there his hand drifts upward along the man’s chest, his eyes on Silva’s tense expression while he feels the thread of chest hair between his fingers. “I’ll have to decide if I want to keep this,” he observes. A muscle twitches in Silva’s jaw but his blue eyes are still fixing Andreas with contempt. “Usually I prefer bare, but there’s something deliciously masculine about this much—oh?”

Lifting the right hem of the robe reveals an angry red welt imprinted against the man’s ribcage; when Andreas steps back he can make out the obvious outline of a boot. He sucks in a breath while teasing over it with one thumb and again the man reveals his displeasure with a full-body twitch.

“Someone was naughty.” He presses his hand against the crimson flesh, hot to the touch, and gently presses downward until Silva evinces his pain with a small wince. Andreas trails his fingers again down the man’s arm and stops at the cuffs. “Still, better than a broken wrist, no?”

He lets his hand linger on the wrist along with the threat. An eye for an eye was the traditional form of justice in his court. Rosalind must have done well to preserve the prisoner for his purposes.

Speaking of.

Andreas lowered his palm to cup the man’s groin. Silva immediately stiffens, his shoulders jerking forward to form a concavity around his abdomen, around the point where Andreas touches.

“You’ve got a wife, Silva?”

No answer, nothing but a thudding vein in his jaw where the teeth are clenched tight. Andreas uses two fingers to stretch the loose waist of SIlva’s silken trousers, observing with satisfaction the dark curls of hair that meet his vision. With his other hand he reaches downward and his fingers close around limp muscle, earning another twitch of silent rage from the prisoner.

Andreas grins upward with one eyebrow crooked. “Something to say?”

But the prisoner isn’t looking at him anymore, his steely eyes are fixed somewhere behind Andreas with his brows creased in consternation. An Adonis carved from stone, here in Andreas’ bedroom for him to enjoy.

Andreas leans forward to press his lips to Silva's neck just below the collar. “Like I said,” he breathed, trailing his mouth downward, tasting sweat and skin and tendrils of chest hair. “I enjoy a challenge.”

Without another word he sank to his knees and in the same motion tugged the silken trousers downward.

Riven's got the exact amount of time to finish this essay and study for the exam in two days. But he can't ignore the hot waves coming off Musa, looking at him from the bed— not that he would ever want to.

She can get a bit of him. She just has to be very still and don't distract him. Just that.

IT IS DONE. This fic has consumed my entire kink meme

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45283738

Praise can go any way, really. Just look at them, you know bitchy people only get praise from their bitchy partner.

Your choice!

You updated! You updated!!

This fic is so good!

I hope you post it on ao3 at some point so that it will be easy to find again later

You know that scene in season on where Riven and Beatrix share the apple in the cafeteria. Like what if after Stella and Beatrix got together they did pda like that a lot and their friends made fun of them for it alot. Doesnt have to be nsfw(idk if the goes against the guidelines). Also like a fanart of them with an apple would be cute🥳🥳

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Page 25 of 39

FTWS KM 2023

Re: Bloom x Stella + Teaching fucking

Re: Stella x Beatrix + Knife Play & Aftercare

Stella x Beatrix + Dirty Talk & Knee Riding

Andreas/Saul/Other + ABO (TW:non-con)

Re: Saundreas+ABO, isolated from the world

Re: Saul x Andreas : Parents' meeting

Re: Andreas x Rosalind + sex club dom/sub AU

Re: Saul x Stella + affair (TW: age gap)

Re: Saul x Andreas + Pretty Woman AU

Re: Saul x Stella + affair (TW: age gap)

no subject

Re: Silrah + hate sex

no subject

Re: Silrah + hate sex

Re: Silrah + hate sex

Re: Andreas/Saul/Other + ABO (TW:non-con)

Re: Andreas x Rosalind + A Last Night Together (TW: age gap)

Re: Silrah + face sitting

Re: Silrah + hate sex

Re: Saul x Andreas + Royalty AU

Riven x Musa + Cockwarming

Re: Saul x Sky + Vampire AU (Platonic)

Riven x Musa - Praise Kink

Re: Saul x Andreas + Royalty AU

Beatrix x Stella