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ardorwritesfanfic · 11 months

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BLLK Men and Overstimulation

A/N: Most of my headcanons for these men included them overstimulating the reader, but know I must share my opinions on the reverse!! Pls enjoy!

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, handjobs, blowjobs, penetration, unprotected sex, use of sex toys (m!receiving), dom/sub dynamics (ish?).

Featuring: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Isagi Yoichi, Reo Mikage

Requests are open! My ask box is always open to thirsts and chit chat as well!

Rin Itoshi

Your jaw ached as you bobbed your head along his length. Your pace was slow, fighting your partners hands as they gripped your hair. You had been at this for a while, having already made your teal-haired boyfriend cum several times. His breath grew uneven, as soft moans escaped his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes, taking note of his features. His cheeks were a dark shade of red, which spread across his nose like a blanket. You could just barely make out tears in the corners of his eyes, threating to spill if this teasing lasted much longer. His lips were puffy and red, bitemarks prominent. He had been trying to keep himself quiet.

Your eyes travelled down his body. His neck was covered in purplish bruises, ones that you had so lovingly left him. Scratch marks stood out against the pale skin of his chest. His nipples were red with your abuse. You hummed with content, admiring how pretty he looked covered in your marks. The vibration earned a lewd moan from your boyfriend, before his hand came up to cover his mouth. Slowly, your brought your hands up to his thighs, squeezing the soft flesh in your palms. A beautiful muffled moan graced your ears, egging you on. You put slight pressure into your fingertips as you gently dragged your nails along the insides of his thigh.

"S-shit, I-I fuck! That feels too good, I c-can't cum again ah!" Rin moaned, small tears running down his cheeks. His pleading only motivated your more, quickening your pace. Your hands roamed his body as best as they could, reaching up to play with his sensitive chest. Rin began panting as your sucked a little too hard on his sensitive tip, almost choking on his length. "Hah hah, I can- I fuck too much shit! Oh god I-!" Rin panted before his whole body jolted with pleasure. His moans slowly turned to whines as you helped him ride out his orgasm, breath only slowing when you stopped your movement altogether. With a small 'pop' you released him from your mouth, swallowing his delicious hot liquid. You opened your mouth to stick your tongue out, showing him that you has swallowed it all.

"You're so pretty when you're all overstimulated, Rinnie~" you cooed. Rin tried his hardest not to look at your, shielding his blushing face from your vision.

"I'll g-get back at you f-for that..."

Sae Itoshi

Sae whined as your moved your hand agonizingly slow. What was this? The fifth time you were going to make him cum? Sae didn't care, all he could focus on was the feeling of your hand pumping his shaft. His hips bucked into your hand, earning a frustrated grunt when you stilled your hand. "Move your fucking hand..." Sae hissed, hands gripping the pillow behind his head. You let out a small huff, before returning to your painfully slow pace. Sae growled in frustration, aquamarine eyes piercing into your soul. "Move faster." He demanded.

"Fine, but remember you asked for this." You hummed, increasing your speed tenfold. Sae's grunts quickly turned to whines as a result of your quickening pace, his chest rising and falling at a quickened pace. "O-Oh shit! That feels agh so fucking good!" Sae groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. His whole body seemed to react with increased intensity this time. His toes curled, and the muscles flexed with every moan. His biceps bulged as he frantically grabbed anything he could get his hands on. His abdomen flexed with every stroke of your hand. You could tell he was approaching his climax at a rapid speed.

You smirked at the adorable face your normally stoic fiancé made. It was then you decided that you were going to ruin this man, without letting him inside you. You leaned over towards him, dipping your head towards his collarbone. You pressed a searing kiss to the sensitive flesh, sucking gently. You added more pressure to your hand, squeezing the tip of his cock with every stroke. Your nails grazed his shaft, following the vein that ran from base to tip. Heavy pants and wicked moans filled your ears, as you felt his entire body start to vibrate. Sae's moans quickly turned to whines, his thighs beginning to shake. The pleasure was too much, he couldn't handle it any longer.

"Fuck, I-I cant hold on! F-Feels so fuckingh good. Fucking shit!" Sae cried as pleasure rocked through his body. His limbs felt like they were on fire, his whole body hot as he reached his climax. Peering out through his lashes, he saw you staring at your hand, which was covered in his thick cum. Panting and feeling his muscles grow sore with fatigue he smirked.

"Want me to clean that up for you? Or will you be a good girl and do it yourself?

Isagi Yoichi

Drool pooled out of the blue haired males lips and his tongue hung out of his mouth. Your walls felt deliciously warm and soft around him. His eyes were clouded in lust, pupils blown as he looked up at you in intensity. Your hips ground down on his pelvis at a steady rate, increasing in speed before slowing. You had been at this for hours, how your thighs never grew tired, he'll never know. All he knew is that your movements seemed to be ten timed more sickly sweet than earlier.

His hands desperately grabbed at the flesh of your hips, sure to leave bruises. His cock twitched with every movement, making your walls flutter around him. His gaze was almost animalistic, it took everything in him to not pound up into you as your rode him. Wet squelching sounds filled the room. His entire pelvis was covered in a mixture of your juices and his cum. Both your bodies were ten times more sensitive at this point in the night, and neither of you were sure you'd last much longer.

"P-Please, princess, I-I need this. I-hah... I need you." Isagi growled, gritting his teeth. You had only ever seen this side of him on the field, the way he looked at you as if you were a goal that needed to be scored. Your body couldn't handle it anymore, you needed your release. You quickened your pace sliding up and down his cock as he hit your every sweet spot. You reveled in the moans that the two of you made, like a sultry harmony that only the two of you would ever hear. Strong hands gripped your hips harder as Isagi lost control, pounding into you at breakneck speed. Sinful moans bubbled out of your chest, eyes rolling back as you felt yourself bubble over. Your walls squeezed Isagi tightly as electricity washed over your body in waves, dousing his cock in another layer of your slick. That was enough to send Isagi over the edge, his cock pulsating as he released into you.

Your body soon dropped itself on top of your boyfriend's, unable to hold itself up any longer. Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both basked in each other's body heat. "Shit, baby." Isagi started, "My body is on f-fire." He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, before his entire body relaxed. The two of you seemed to meld into the plush mattress, as sleep settled in.

Reo Mikage

You grinned as you took in the sight before you. You're gorgeous boyfriend was absolutely drenched in a mixture of sweat and his own cum. His eyes were screwed shut, hips bucking aimlessly at the stimulation your provided. His bangs stuck to his forehead, his hands searched desperately for something to grip. Around his erect cock, was a small rubber ring that sat just below his tip. The sound of vibrations were just barely audible. All the while, sweet and sultry moans left his swollen lips. He was absolutely beautiful.

"P-Please, treasure, I can't take it, fuck, p-please touch me ah!" Reo moaned, his eyes glassy from the tears that threatened to spill. His chest was covered in a red blush, which travelled all the way down his stomach. His hand tried to reach out towards you, but the stimulation stopped him in his tracks. A smirk spread across your face, as you shifted your position.

"I'm not sure I should do that, I think you look so pretty like this~" you cooed increasing the toy's speed. Reo moaned with pleasure, hips bucking wildly. His cock pulsated, twitching as he inched closer to his climax. Seeing his reaction, you slowed the speed again, earning a desperate whine. He growled as his eyes darted towards your frame, frustration mixed with lust present on his face. Reo muttered something about your actions being "cold", but was quickly interrupted when you turned the cock ring all the way up. "I'm going to make you cum untouched, my love~" you cooed, biting your lip.

Reo's erotic moans filled the room, choking on his own sounds as the sensation became too intense. He panted heavily, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepared for his climax. "Oh shit, fuck! I'm gonna cum! I'm guh!" His cock twitched, a slew of whines and moans leaving his lips as thick ropes of cum shot out of him, coating his belly. Slowly, you turned the toy off, scooching over to your boyfriends exhausted body. Gently, you combed his bangs out of his face. Reo whined, his body still too sensitive to handle your touch. Pressing a loving kiss to his forehead, you whispered your praises, before getting a cold towel to help him clean up.

#bllk smut #bllk sae #bllk rin #bllk reo #bllk isagi #isagi yoichi smut #rin itoshi smut #sae itoshi smut #reo mikage smut #blue lock smut #blue lock rin #blue lock isagi #blue lock sae #blue lock reo #yoichi isagi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #reo mikage x reader

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boykissr · 2 years

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WET KISSES

tighnari x reader

cw : ooc , suggestive themes , mentions of lovebites / hickeys , unedited , thats all i think!

an : repost <3

tighnari sighs, his body melting and moulding into yours as your thread your fingers through his hair, moving up to lightly scratch his soft ears. they twitch under your touch, and you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips.

you don't miss the way his ears perk up at the sound of your laugh.

"you know," you murmur, so quiet it's as if you're afraid that if you spoke any louder, this all might somehow disappear right before your eyes, "i was actually a bit... hesitant to do this, at first."

tighnari leans back, resting his head on your shoulder to properly look at you as you confess.

"oh? why might that be?" he whispers, voice equally as quiet.

you hum, unsure, and your hands dip under the water to wrap around his chest. you lean your head forward once more as to bury your face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, getting a bit antsy under his undivided attention.

tighnari does nothing except bring his hands up, one coming up to rub assuringly at the arms wrapped around his torso, and the other lifting out of the still-steaming water to massage your scalp. he's comfortably silent as you slowly find your answer, relaxing at his calming touches.

"i've never been so bare in front of someone like this. it makes me feel defenseless. it's scary." you sigh into his skin, and he hums.

"i understand; it takes a great deal of trust to be completely vulnerable in front of someone.

thank you for trusting me."

he makes sure to whisper the last bit, so close you feel his breath fan against your ear.

you feel yourself heat up, arms squeezing a bit tighter around him.

tighnari notices this, and you can feel teasing from a mile away as he lets out a low chuckle; one that you can feel vibrate against his chest, and one that makes you feel like you could pass out, with his mouth still dangerously close to your ear. it feels like every thing that comes out of his mouth is amplified by a hundred.

he speaks, and you shiver.

"ah, did that one get you, darling?"

he's so close, and even closer still. he's pressing his lips against your ear, and you can feel his cheeky smile as he says those words.

you aren't sure what's overtaken him, or you; perhaps the heat from the bath is messing with your head, or perhaps it's the way tighnari has pressed so close to you, overtaken your every sense and thought with the only thing left in your mind is him.

with your thoughts blurred and mind hazy, you don't stop yourself from pressing a kiss to his shoulder, or another one to his neck, or a third to his jaw, until you're pressing a barrage of quick, wet kisses all over his skin.

he doesn't stop you either, sighing and letting out the smallest noises as his smile grows wider against you.

you don't end up getting out of the bath until the water's cold and your boyfriend is covered head-to-toe in hickeys and bitemarks.

#boykissr.fics #tighnari #tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin x gn reader #tighnari fanfic #tighnari genshin #tighnari gi #tighnari x gn reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x y/n #tighnari smut #tighnari fluff

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yanderu-deredere · 1 year

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taste. (extras)

★ the aftermath of the both literal and metaphorical fuck-fest you had with your newfound werewolf pack

a/n: idk just wanted to put the points of view of the yanderes as their own thing so here's that on here LOL

also i just wanted to write a thing to remind yall that im SOFT and SWEET and its all about CUDDLING here on this WHOLESOME MINECRAFT SERVER

part one (bite.) ★ part two ★ (chew.) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ part three ★ (swallow) ★ part four (digest.)

pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 1302

warning: bottom reader with male parts and pronouns, stereotypical werewolf scent stuff, mentions of marking (both scent wise and with bruises/bites)

Mel sighed, wiping himself of with a wet tissue.

If he thought that Isamu and Leonard were a handful, he was really signing himself up for something with the three of you. But, he supposed, Mother Moon knew he'd be able to handle it.

After all, the pull to you was even stronger than his pull towards his other two mates so he knew your rightful place was beside them.

He just needed to get used to cleaning up all three of his mates' messes now.

First, of course, was Isamu because he was for sure the least grumpy out of all three of them. And, also, the one with the most stamina so he'd for sure help out.

"C'mon, pup." Mel cupped the back of the back of Isamu's neck, pressing a soft kiss to Isamu's temple as he whispered in his ear, careful not to jostle the other two. "Careful now."

Isamu woke slowly but, like always, his moves were careful and calculated despite the sleepy look in his eyes.

"I?" Isamu leaned back, resting his bare ass against his ankles as he tried to remember what the hell happened during his momentary rut.

Mel saw when the recognision hit him because Isamu scrambled back, his now deflated knot pulling out easily.

"I-I-I--" Isamu stuttered out, his eyes flickering all over their new mate, assessing exactly what damage he'd made.

Mel knew the feeling. He'd spent a good long while staring too. You were a beauty before, when he first saw you in the forest.

You were even more beautiful now, with Isamu and Mel's bitemarks and bruises all over you and Leonard's scratches littered along your thighs.

"Calm down, Sam. It's fine." Mel cupped the back of Isamu's neck again, pressing another kiss to his temple. "Are you okay? You tired?"

Isamu looked up at Mel, those lost hazel eyes looking so nervous that it made Mel chuckle. But he gave Isamu time to think, to assess how he truly felt.

Mel would stand tall and firm, would be the hard rock that his mates needed to rest against.

"I-I'm fine." Isamu finally muttered after a few minutes.

Mel grinned, happy to hear that his mate was okay. His palm moved from Isamu's neck to his cheek where he drew him close to press a soft kiss against his lips

"Why don't you go clean yourself up, I'll wake up Sleeping Beauty and the three of us can take care of our new mate, hmmm?" Mel offered, knowing it was the only way he could talk Isamu into leaving your side.

Even then, Isamu looked hesitant, his eyes darting from you to Mel and back. Finally, he seemed to realise that he didn't have much of a choice because he slowly nodded and left the couch.

Mel almost laughed at how he hobbled a little.

That, of course, left him with the arduous task of separating you from Leonard without waking you up.

He had thought it would be hard but, actually, when he shifted you, you stayed asleep. He worried you were dead for a second but he checked on you and it really was that they took a lot out of you.

Made sense. Isamu and Leonard pretty much overstimulated you to hell and back just in between the two of them.

Mel wanted to be free of blame but he could admit he was part of the problem seeing as he basically just kicked back and watched.

He carefully laid you back and lifted Leonard into his arms. Like always, Leonard just laid there, giving little to no resistance. HIs head even lolled over, resting against Mel's chest.

Mel pressed a kiss to his forehead and brought him to the bathroom where Isamu was already filling the sink with warm water and readying the towels.

The two worked together, soaking the towels with warm water and wiping Leonard down till he was coherent enough to wonder what the fuck was going on.

"Where is he?"

"Calm down." Mel immediately clutched Leonard to his chest to prevent him from going feral and guarding over your body like an overprotective wolf over its own pups.

"He's in the living room. He's fine. We were just going to clean you up and then we're going to go with some warm towels and clean him up." Mel explained, his broad hand running through Leonard's soft blonde locks "You need to calm down or you'll trigger another rut and he won't be able to handle that."

Leonard panted, his nails digging into Mel's biceps, but he nodded frantically. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you. He knew you weren't like them, that you were softer, more easily breakable.

He didn't want to break you.

When Mel felt like Leonard wouldn't run to you the first chance he'd get, he let go of him and Leonard sagged a little, feeling like his skin was too tight over his body, like he itched.

He wanted to see you but he didn't want to panic and make himself feel worse so he just itched his arms and focused on Mel.

Isamu felt the same. He had better control because Mel had been training him longer but you took that control and crushed it in your hand like paper.

You made him feel so weak and he loved it.

The last thing he wanted was to lose that control and hurt you though so he wrapped his arm around Leonard's shoulders and kissed his forehead before handing him some sweatpants and a crop top.

When the two of them dressed (as slowly as possible, Mel insisted) and washed their faces with cold water, they were finally allowed to take some damp warm towels over to you.

You were still where Mel left you, all splayed and vulnerable, open and trusting.

The inside of your wrist was raw and bitten from Isamu. Leonard could see where he reached back and clawed at the tops of your thighs, near your pelvis. They were already puffing up. There were even various bites along your shoulder and neck from Mel.

They really did a number on you.

Leonard sat down on the couch first, moving you so your cheek rested on his leg.

With the warm towels he had, he gently dabbed at the hickeys and bites along your shoulders, making sure not to scrub or rub and irritate it.

Mel sat down too, gently wiping along the grain of the scratches on your thighs,m making sure to be gentle with them so he wouldn't irritate them either.

Then, Isamu sat on the floor and took your wrist, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he took your wrist and pressed several apology kisses on it before he dabbed at it with a warm cloth.

They wiped you down till all the stickiness and lube was completely gone, till you were clean and comfortable. Then, they dressed you in their clothes.

You wore Isamu's sweatpants, one of Leonard's shirts and Mel's cleanest pair of used boxers. If you asked, it was because your clothes were covered in cum (Mel had a bout of insanity and came all over them) but, in reality, they liked you being covered in their scent.

Lastly, they positioned themselves around you, cuddling all around you.

Leonard plastered himself against your front immediately, his face already nosing against your jugular like he couldn't get enough of your scent. Isamu was against your back, his arms sneaking around your sides.

Mel had the unfortunate position of being under all of you, your head resting against his collar, Isamu's head against his bicep and Leonard's head on his chest.

He'd been in this position enough times to know that he'd wake up not feeling anything in the morning. Not that he'd complain seeing as he loved having all his mates in his arms like this.

Plus, Mel knew that Isamu and Leonard wouldn't be able to handle being away from you for a while, especially when they hadn't officially marked you.

To Isamu and Leonard, you could easily be stolen away and they wouldn't be able to stand it.

So the three of you would sleep on the amply sized couch, comfortable and safe. Mel would make sure of it. He'd keep all of you safe, forever.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #oc x reader #male oc #male werewolf x reader #werewolf oc x reader #werewolf x reader #chaptered #lemony content #melchior #isamu #leonard

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gothushi · 3 months

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thinking about Seb lashing out not being able to control himself he would totally leave tones of scratches and bitemarks

collar him

i literally just woke up from a nap and have to answer this my jaws on the floor. cw collaring, mild breath play if ur squinting, marks

maybe something happened with his guardian (still don’t know if i headcanon him being with his own family or possibly a foster family or another relative/someone who adopted him. idk idk details shmetails) so maybe he’s just like. overstimulated. pissed off. every single thing makes him upset or angry. but he’s come over because he promised he would and you two were gonna watch a movie and spend time together.

one thing leads to another and you’re making out on the couch, he’s pawing at you, desperate to release his pent up energy from an entire days worth of anger and frustration. cut to him laid back, you’re ontop, grinding down onto him slow and teasing and he’s just so… upset.. he needs more, needs to take and take, needs these feelings to get out before he just absolutely blows up like a bomb. so suddenly, his frame is over yours, pinning you to the couch, your legs around his waist, and he goes feral. im talking hips slamming into yours, jostling your entire body up, his hands on your shoulders and dragging over your back and arms, nails digging into your skin, all the while he’s buried his head in your neck, biting at the junction of shoulder and neck hard, so fucking hard that my god it really hurts? is he drawing blood? (you consider stopping him, already having said plenty “seb–! hey!” “slow down– seb, fuck slow down” “sebastion” grabbing at his hair, pushing at his shoulders, it doesn’t work. but you let him do what he must because yes it hurts but it isn’t past your limits) he’s panting through his teeth, sobbing tears of frustration as he takes takes takes, fucks like some wild, rabid animal until he cums. he doesn’t even know if you’ve cum too but that’s the least of your worries as he collapses onto you, crying, panting, and you pet over his hair like you’re comforting a stray cat, gentle, soft, careful.

cue clean up, your back is fucked. red scratches from his dull nails go from shoulder blade to just above your ass. some even go from shoulder down your biceps, and the left side of your neck is ravaged. a deep bite mark is on the junction where he stayed for the most part, small little cuts from his teeth, but also a cluster of hickies and more faint little teeth marks littered down your shoulder. he sobs again, cries, says he’s sorry, he doesn’t know what happened, he feels so ashamed and is horrified you’re going to leave him. but you tsk, try to ground him with a few ‘i love you’s and order him to clean your back for you and apply some cream to the scratches since you can’t reach. he does so, hand trembling all the while, and then you sit down with him to have a proper talk.

he doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know why he just lost control. he says he was just so.. so mad all day, everything was going wrong, everyone was upsetting (save for you). you have a healthy talk with him, telling him he can’t always leave you like you’ve been mauled by an animal when he gets upset, nor can he turn to other things like breaking shit or yelling. you tell him that you’ll both figure something out, reassuring plenty that you aren’t angry with him and you aren’t leaving him. two days pass, you’ve come up with a solution the next time you hang out.

you present a little box to him, no bigger than his hands held out together. he’s confused. a gift? for him? he insists he doesn’t deserve anything but the constant sting when you move on your back serves to remind that yes, he does deserve this, and urge him to open the box. inside is a black leather collar, meant for a dog, silver buckle and one singular ring beside it, and a matching leash. he’s like.. “i don’t have a dog..” but his own puppy eyes say otherwise! you gently explain that it’s meant for him, for his neck, something to try that might be able to ground him, and he’d only wear it when at your apartment. it takes a second for the intentions to click in his brain, and his cheeks go red, “you.. you think that’d work?” he’s skeptical, but you remind him he doesn’t have to try it, you just thought it’d be a nice idea. so.. he agrees. he lets you buckle the collar on, enough to fit three fingers through comfortably, and oh.

oh.

his cock fucking aches. it hurts in his jeans. the constant pressure on his neck is just so good he can’t believe he’d never explored this. he’s laid with his head in your lap, watching a movie, trying not to squirm around. he feels he doesn’t deserve to fuck you again yet afterall.. but you notice. notice the color on his cheeks as you play with his hair, the way his thighs stay pressed together, the subtle shifts of his hips, the way he hasn’t really said a word about the show when usually he’s a little chatterbox critiquing or pointing things out.

cue fifteen minutes later, he’s sat back on the couch whilst you’re riding him. the pace is agonizingly slow, and he’s grunting and whining like crazy. you’ve clipped the leash on, but it’s slack right now. his punishment is to not touch you, he has to just take what you give. soon enough though (you knew this would happen) his hands fly to your hips, grasping, a shakey “please” escapes him. quickly, you’ve got your one hand on the back of the couch, leash in hand, and it tugs on the collar enough to yank his head back some. the most pathetic noise you’ve ever heard comes from his throat, brows furrowing up, lips parting as it’s just a bit harder to breathe. “behave.” you’ll groan, fucking yourself down a little bit faster when his hands leave your waist.

he cums twice that night, and next time he’s at home jerking off with you on the brain, his hand wanders up to his neck.

#AHHHHH IM CRAZY IM OBSESSED WITH HIM #HELLPPPP!!!!!#neil newbon #neil newbon x reader #seb as if #seb as if x reader

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mythicalmyles · 2 years

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hiii ^^ I hope your having a wonderful day ^^ I have a request for Masky and Hoodie with a confident and dominant reader that ultimately bottoms ^^

Maybe the reader is also a killer and break into the same house Masky and Hoodie does they kinda fight in the kitchen that turns into a sex scene were they all have to keep quiet otherwise the house owner will wake up and call the police

Also if your okay with it can you add a knife kink, degrading praise and marking (bitemarks, hickeys, scratch marks, ect)

(Daddy ment,violence 18+)

(Name) let out a groan of pain as someone ran into his side, throwing him into the wall. He quickly dodged a kick to the stomach, blood rushing through his ears, usually he had the upper hand. Choosing to quickly kill off whoever.

His eyebrows shot up under his mask as he caught sight if Masky, rage filling his body. He knew that if Masky was here his little friend would be too far behind. “My kill.” Was all (Name) muttered before rushing past Masky, who was quick to grab him by the neck and throw him onto the couch. Masky’s hands wrapped around (Names) neck, cutting off his oxygen. (Names) nails clawed at Masky’s arms, he threw his fist out taking Masky by surprise.

(Name) quickly jumped off, running towards the kitchen. His plan to take out Masky was cut short when someone grabbed his hair and slammed his head off of the counter. (Names) vision went blurry as he tried ti recover, groaning in pain and gripping his head. He jumped out of his body when hands gripped his pants, yanking them down his ass. “Don’t you dare you cunt.” (Name) growled out, before he could try stop Masky pulling them down further Hoodie gripped his wrists and slammed them to the counter. “Shut the fuck up, be a good boy and take what you’re given.” Masky growled out before spreading (Names) ass cheeks and spitting on his hole. “I don’t take it stop.” (Name) growled kicking out. Hoodie grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, a choked sound flying from (Names) lips.

His watery eyes glared into Hoodie’s red stitched ones. Hoodie suddenly he flicked out his switch blade, drawing a light line across (Names) neck. (Name) sucked in a breath, realising how fucked he was. “Be a good boy. Or i leave you tied up and spread open for the police.” (Names) body tensed, the words making his cock twitch. “D-dont you dare.” (Name) growled out, sqeaking when Masky’s hand slammed off of his ass resulting in a cry being torn from his lips.

“C’mon, just be a good boy. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care if you.” Masky chuckles before sliding two fingers into (Names) ass. A guttural moan was torn from the pinned killer as the other two quickly dominated him. “God you’re so weak. You shouldn’t bother, you make a better fuckhole anyway pretty boy.” (Names) body shook as he tried to hold back his moans as Masky’s fingers assaulted his prostate, Masky’s digits pressed against and rubbed it to the point of tears falling down his cheeks as his mouth fell open in a silent scream.

(Name) wanted to lash out but as pleasure rolled down his spine his eyes rolled, moans finally pouring from his throat. “Aw, good boy.” Masky muttered in a snide tone as he slapped (Names) ass four times, one after the other. All (Name) could do was cry and moan as he tried his best to not lean into the blade Hoodie still had pressed to his throat.

“Call me daddy.” Masky muttered as he dragged his jagged nails down (Names) back and ass, bloody shredded flesh left in their trail. (Name) moaned loud enough to have Masky slap his hand over his mouth. “N-no.” (Name) choked out, his voice muffled. Masky dropped him, pushing him flat against the counter. Masky laughed as he took Hoodie’s knife, dragging it down (Names) back. (Names) body arched as he let out a loud moan, his orgasm sending his body shaking. “Say it.” Masky growled as he began cutting down the otherside of (Names) back. “A-ah! Daddy, daddy.” (Name) chanted as Masky chuckled and praised him, (Name) hated the fact tears dripped down his cheeks as he was being taken by his rivals. "Such a good boy!" Masky praised.

“St-stop.” (Name) weakly choked out as Masky’s cock rubbed against his hole. Masky slapped his ass hard. “What do you call me?” He demanded, (Name) tried not to sob as he fixed his words. “Da-daddy, please sto-.” Halfway through his words Masky slid inti him, cutting off his words as he tried not to scream at the penetration.

(Names) nails dug into the counter so hard he was sure he’d leave a mark, his eyes scrunched up and his mouth dropped in a silent scream as he had a cock pushed into him for the first time. (Names) eyes rolled as he finally submitted his body to the more experienced killers. Hoodie’s hands dove into his hair, bringing his mouth to his cock. (Name) knew if he tried anything he’d be dead in the spot. He let out a deep breath as he shakily licked the tip of Hoodie’s cock. Hoodie growled and shoved his cock straight down (Names) throat, relishing in the look of panic that flew across his face as Hoodie’s cock hit the back of his throat. “Relax.” Hoodie ordered as he began fucking (Names) mouth, enjoying every gag that left (Name). “Aw, look at you. Big killed bent over a counter, getting spit-roasted.

All (Name) could do was choke out moans when Hoodie would pull his cock out, mind reeling as his prostate was rammed by Masky’s cock and choked on Hoodie’s. “I think he can take us both.” (Names) dazed eyes silently plead with Hoodie not to. “Oh no, don’t bother looking at me like that. J just want to ruin you more now.” (Name) whimpered as Hoodie pulled him away by his hair, panic setting into (Name) as he realised they were both going to be inside of him.

(Name) whimpered and begged as Masky manoeuvred him so his hands were holding his legs spread. The feeling of Masky’s cock moving inside of him had (Name) whining and bucking his hips despite his protests. “Shh pretty boy, you’ll wake them up.” Hoodie muttered as he pulled up his face covering, quick to press his lips to (Names).

(Name) whimpered as Hoodie took control of their kiss, lining his cock up next to Masky’s. Hoodie chased him as he shook his head, a loud sob tearing through his throat as Hoodie pushed his cock into his ass. (Name) gripped Hoodie’s jacket while Hoodie’s hands slid around his waist. Hoodie’s hand shot over (Names) mouth as he bottomed out, stopping his scream from waking up their victim.

All (Name) could do was babble and moan as they split him open on their cocks, (name) let out a choked moan as Masky’s nails dug into his thighs. His back twisted as Hoodie’s hands began teasing his nipples and tugging on them. (Name) felt overwhelmed as they used him, he could barley think each slide of their cocks into him driving him closer to the edge.

(Name) didn’t last long as they easily slid him up and down their cocks, slamming against his prostate as he spasmed. (Name) almost screamed as he came, Hoodie’s hand quick to cut him off. (Name) clenched hard on their cocks causing them to cum, hips snapping into (Names) as they rode out their highs.

(Name) whimpered as overstimulation ran through his body, twitching as they filled him up with cum despite his weak protests not to. “Shut up, you loved it.” Masky chuckled as they threw him onto the couch. “Ill be taking these.” Hoodie grinned, holding up his pants and boxers. (Name) tried to get up and chase him, only to stumble and fall onto his face as red hot pain flared up his spine.

He whimpered as he felt their cum dribble out of his hole, panicked eyes staring at where they once were.

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kariachi · 9 months

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Three bajillion years ago I wrote a fic touching on Mike's extra mouths.

Wasn't happy looking back, so I redid it.

One by one, he counted and recounted the bones in the back of the hand, running his thumb over each in turn. There was probably a word for them, he probably could have asked and got an answer right there, but he didn’t really give a shit. What he cared about was that they all seemed to be there- there were no missing, no extra, none out of place. For all intents and purposes, it was a perfectly normal hand, more scarred than most with scratches and punctures- as its owner was prone to be once the makeup was off and you paid attention- but still just like that of anyone else who hadn’t lost a finger or something along the way.

Then, you turned it over. On instinct his thumb moved to trace the palm lines that weren’t there, ghosting over the trails they would have left on anyone else before he caught himself. It wasn’t that the palm was flat and featureless, but that its features were notably different. Subtle lines, like those leading to the thumb, radiated out from the center of the palm, where a small divot betrayed just how different this all was. Far from the most obvious sign that, whatever they might have been, a normal, non-mutant human the owner was not, but more than the likes of him ever had to deal with. Seemingly minor enough to slip by, but a trait that once one person noticed everyone else would look for forever, even if they didn’t know what was hidden underneath.

Technically, Kevin himself didn’t know for certain.

His thumb brushed against the skin to the side of the divot in a loose circle as he considered the best was to ask. A needless endeavor, it seemed, as with a huffing sigh Mike almost didn’t fidget beside him. Just slightly the divot unfurled before the resulting opening began to gape wider, wider, wider, until it took up the vast, vast majority of the palm. Looking into it was like looking into a pit, one lined with rows of large, sharp canine teeth. Each had to be a good half inch or more in length, eight to a row- as he’d guessed from the bitemarks the bastard left everywhere- and with

“Okay, I’m impressed,” Kevin said, eyes wide as he turned Mike’s hand in his own for a good view. He got quick chuckle in response. “I figured about the first set, but four? What do you use the other ones for?” Mike shrugged.

“Not for anything, to be honest. They don’t even move forward if you pull one out, they regrow where they are.” He hemmed a moment. “There was a period during the third grade I picked up chewing pencils but it didn’t last long.”

“Yeah,” Kevin snorted, “there’s some places you just don’t want splinters.”

“And in your back gums is one of them,” came the confirmation with a nod. Humming, Kevin continued his inspection. He could honestly say he’d never seen anything quite like this on anybody before. Oh, the eternal pit mouth he’d seen on one species, but Gourmand had nothing on these as far as he was concerned. It was, as he’d said, impressive.

“Does it- If you flexed your hand…?” Rolling his eyes in a way that far more amused than anything Mike did so, the mouth contorting as he did so that his frontmost teeth clicked gently against their neighbors. The other rows seemed unaffected. When he was done, he held the whole thing flat and shut his teeth together on their own. Kevin gave a low whistle.

“That’s really cool.” There wasn’t a way he couldn’t say it out loud, or judge the way Mike preened when he did. He’d grown up with few enough people honestly being impressed and positive about his powers, that he wasn’t about to withhold it from somebody else. Even if it was the local dipshit.

“They’re also venomous,” Mike said. Over the course of a long heartbeat Kevin dropped both their hands, turning to him with a creased brow and open mouth.

“Seriously?” Taking back his hand, Mike nodded. Kevin released a single ‘huh’. “I wondered how you got people falling over you like that, didn’t know if it was tied to the biting or not.”

“Why,” Mike asked, raising an eyebrow at him with a frown like he was an idiot, “would you not assume it was tied to the biting?”

“I didn’t know you, you could just like biting people,” Kevin said with a shrug. Mike glared, muttering something like ‘fucking moron’ under his breath.

“The teeth in my extra mouths are venomous,” he said slowly, “it makes creatures need to be around me.”

“Handy.” Especially when one considered his original modus operandi. Mike only gave a half nod though.

“When you’re a teenager looking for attention and easy meals. Less so when you’re a toddler.” With an empty huff of a laugh, he shook his head. “I gained quite the reputation before I got old enough to know better.” Kevin could only nod to that.

“Didn’t we all…” There was an unfortunate tendency for people without powers to assume anyone with them was actively trying to cause trouble if they misused them, no matter how young they were at the time. Back in his hometown people had still been judging Kevin for frying a conveyor belt at the store eight years later. But, the mess that was their standing in society was a whole other topic, one that was too heavy to go into then and there. So, Kevin put a smile back on his face, tilting his chin as Mike. “So, energy powers, super strength, and you’re venomous? And I thought I was the jack of all trades around here.” A bit of tension easing away, Mike chuckled.

“You have more variety, I’ll give you that,” he said. “It’s just that my powers are better.” Snorting, Kevin tried and only just failed to scowl at him, socking him in the arm.

“I’ve kicked your ass before, Morningstar.” A flash of a smirk came in return.

“Only as many times as I’ve kicked yours-”

#fanfic #kevin levin #mike morningstar #technically he could have more than four rows but we *know of* four rows

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herobrinemybeloved · 11 months

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Entity 303 headcanons

ok so since Herobrine spends most of his time with or fantasising abt his bf I figured I should give more info abt Ent and what his deal is

He's Swedish from Kiruna

He's 6'11 and abt 110lbs

Long black hair, glowing red eyes

Ethnically he's white but due to no longer being human and all the different magic he picked up over the years his skin has taken on a more dark grey w a slight purple colour

tired eyes, shit eating grin, you know the type

They knew each other in highschool and HATED each other

They spent their college years forced to share a dorm room and things got a bit homoerotic before it was socially accepted

Entity kills people because it's the only way he knows how to make ends meet, he's a hireable Merc/hitman

He targets horrible people like the most vile disgusting people this world has to offer so never kills innocents

He didn't have a great upbringing to put it gently and has a few mental illnesses, diagnosed and undiagnosed

He's queer obv and accidentally helped teen Herobrine realise he's gay too, altho Ent is bi or pan w a preference for guys

His birthday is November 23 1992 making him a Sagittarius, he calls himself a Scorpio tho bc emo edgy dresses in all black spooky mysterious

He's 10 months older than hb but they were in the same year BC Ent was held back a year after spending a consecutive year absent from school

He didn't need it tho boy was a gifted kid

Needless to say he burnt out hard and now resents the education system and everybody that puts value on intelligence as a good trait

Primarily listens to slipknot, Korn, deftones, in this moment, bring me the horizon and unfortunately Hollywood undead but ironically he tells himself

Tall, slender, sexy creepy chuckle, powerful evil villain but is actually a bottom bitch

doofenshmirtz I mean what

He has a dangerous temper and an out of control sex drive so Herobrine needless to say has been left with bitemarks and scratches more times than he can count

Entity is very self conscious and insecure but puts on the classic bad boy rebellious persona to protect himself

He's an ENTJ

Ok that's it lmk if you want more elaboration also can you tell he's a self insert

#minecraft #minecraft headcanons #herobrine headcanons #oc #minecraft fandom #literature #Oc lore #oc headcanons #entity 303 #Entity 303 headcanons #original character #Entity 303 Minecraft #Self insert #self insert oc #Herobrine x Entity #Hero303 #gay ships

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im-his-druidess · 2 years

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Okay but not my mind running wild at that Dean leto and professor Anselm. So like let’s say there two buds from colllege and they live with another professor friend of Theirs who is going through a nasty devoted and could use a some genuine love from a sweet cute girl like you and so you go to their home and meet him and it’s Jonathan Levy 🌚🌝

All the bears burn 😤 like yes hello sirs I am a hole

I SWEAR we are sharing a braincell because I was JUST thinking about Jonathan Levy in this scenario 🥵🥴

I’m a complete sucker for threesomes so this is right up my alley 🥴🥴

(Based on this post)

Like, you are their cute little fuck buddy turned serious lover who somehow finds yourself regularly bent over Professor Anselm’s desk as he rails you during your free class period or on your knees underneath Dean Leto’s desk sucking him as he goes through his paperwork. It turned into sweet dates and secret naughty love letters slipped into your bag, and waking up in an enormous bed nestled between the two or with them taking turns applying cream to the chafes left on your thighs and breasts left by their beards. So when they talk to you about their close friend, fellow Professor Jonathan Levy who is going through a nasty bitter divorce, it’s you who suggest maybe you could help. You’ve met the man in passing, seen his wild curls hiding sad eyes and you also seen the way those sad eyes lingered on your body on the rare occasions when you bumped into him in the halls, and the answering twin grins you received told you that you gave the correct answer.

That’s how you ended up spread on a coffee table, your clothes scattered around you and your panties hanging off one ankle, with the sad Professor devouring you like the world was ending. His beard scratching against your thighs in the most intoxicating way as his jaw worked against you and the sounds he made were downright obscene. He wasn’t shy and he was messy.

“Fuck, I missed eating pussy,” he groaned hoarsely against you, making you whimper at his words and at the way he dragged his tongue through your dripping folds as if he were savoring every single drop you gave him, “you taste so good, sweetheart.”

He dragged two orgasms from you with his mouth before he finally sank his cock inside you, the thick delicious stretch of him nearly making you delirious with pleasure, and then he’s moaning in your ear how good and sweet you feel wrapped around him as he drills into you. His beard scraps against your throat and breasts, his touch seeming to be everywhere at once, and you let yourself be swept away by the euphoria that hijacks your brain and overtakes your body. It isn’t until you are laying on the plush ornate rug with Jonathan curled around you, placing delicate kisses over your shoulder and neck, that you realize your other two lovers have joined the room. They are drinking from crystal tumblers and sitting in ornate chairs, talking amongst themselves quietly and completely at ease, and you realize that Jonathan’s body is utterly slack against yours. All the tension that he usually carried was gone and you couldn’t help but giggle at the thought that you helped him fuck the stress away.

“Looks like our darling is awake,” Anselm said, peering at you from over the rim of his glass as all eyes shot to you, and you felt warm fingers smooth your sweat damp hair back from your face.

“Glad you’re back. I was worried I was...too rough,” Jonathan murmured softly while pressing an almost apologetic kiss to a bruised bitemark on your shoulder and you cuddled back further into his warm embrace with a happy sound at the slight sting between your thighs.

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you, my friend. She may look sweet and delicate as a flower, but she can take quite a pounding,” Leto said simply, making your face heat at his words, and his dark eyes twinkled as he stared at you and you were positive he was reminiscing over the few times when he had pounded you.

You clenched your thighs together with a whimper, you exhausted body heating up once more, and you felt curious fingers trail down your waist and dip between your thighs. Jonathan hissed a breath when he found you already slick and ready.

“Oh, I know that look. Well then...let’s not keep her waiting,” Leto continued as he finished his drink, slinking down to the ground where you were still curled up with Jonathan who used his grip on your body to spread you open, and Anselm settled back in his chair and openly palmed himself with delight as he appeared to enjoy the show happening in front of him.

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jiubilant · 2 years

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despite attending the doyle school of traveling war wounds i try to keep track of my characters' scars...shortlist of the important ones below

ayo has lots of scars due to various occupational hazards but the most obvious ones are on her left arm—mirmulnir (weakly) bit it and shook her. they're long messy scrapes rather than punctures. when she's upset she'll rub or scratch them (one of her only tells). a draugr once hit her helm hard enough to dent it and the resulting scar on the left side of her head is visible when she's shaved her hair short enough

ravi has a scar on his left side—a dying morokei stabbed him with an ice spike—and a matching one on his back where it went through him. it's roughly where a kidney transplant scar would be. his right knee is the one that he broke in his youth and has been using a cane to support ever since

finna's missing her last two fingers on her left hand. she changes the story of how she lost them every time she tells it

duls met a werebear once

kur's hands are covered in little bitemarks from when her cliff racer urtur was too tiny to distinguish fingers from breakfast sausages

#oc tag #ayo #ravi #finna and gleeb #duls #kur #most of this has already shown up in a piece or will at some point

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ophernelia · 1 year

Note

could u talk about lou and his mom more

! Long post. TW: Abuse, Neglect, Horrible Parents

Lou’s relationship with Melissa is complicated.

Melissa was afraid of Lou. She knew what he was pretty early on. As a child, Lou had intense tantrums. Usually leaving Melissa with a few bloody scratches and bitemarks. Most of her solutions to try to control whatever demon inhabited his small body meant physical harm. She’d hit him, she’d throw things at him, she’d lock him the hallway closet for hours, and she’d cut his hair. Lou loves his long hair, so Melissa cutting it often broke his spirit. Sometimes she’d be nice to him and take him to the park or out for ice cream. She wanted to love him, but she just really couldn’t. And as Lou got less angry and cried a lot more, Melissa just became a lot more neglectful.

Any excuse to be away from him, she’d take. There were plenty of times she wanted to just give him up for adoption. Let him be someone else’s problem, but her family usually threatened to cut ties with her. Not because they loved Lou. (They hated him honestly) but because it was against their beliefs. So, Melissa spent less time at home and more time wherever he wasn’t. She would spend days on end away from him. When she was home she’d often lock him out. The morning after Lou turned for the first time, that was it. He had to go. Not long after she put him out, she left too.

Whenever he recounts his experiences with his mom, Imogen just stares at him with teary eyes. And Lou always says it doesn’t bother him. Sure, he was sad to see she left when he visited his home but- that was because she just threw out all his stuff. He got over it once they left Copperdale. It’s a new start for him, remember?

Well, maybe sometimes he’d get really angry about his relationship with his mom. Maybe a few things would end up broken around the apartment. Maybe he’d be on the verge of a full blown rampage. And maybe Imogen would have to wrap herself around him to get him to calm down. And just maybe that would make him cry and ask Imogen what’s so wrong with him.

But yeah, no. Lou doesn’t care. He got over all of that once they moved to San Sequoia.

#it’s the lore #lykaia #asks

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blue-velvet-valentina · 2 years

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A well-deserved Night Pt2: the morning after

CW: Nudity, Cheating (not him and OC), MILD swearing, nonsexual intimacy, tough modern topics

Solas felt the pull from the fade knowing the rift was opening. He groaned in dissatisfaction at the inquisitor for toying with the mark again.

He used to have feelings for the Inquisitor to the point he was questioning if those feelings were love. He even removed her marking from her and kissed her, but those feelings rotted away the moment he caught her with Cullen on his desk naked as the day they were born in the throws of lust. He didn’t interrupt them; he ran until his feet couldn’t run anymore when he found old unfamiliar ruins. Flashes of them in his mind and the sounds of her moans fresh as he threw the strongest blast he physically could. When he did it for the 3rd for 4th time, he opened a false wall finding a staircase to nowhere. He went near it and was amazed to see the staircase wasn’t like the ruins, they were ornate and carved from wood that never rotted compared to the stone rubble. He climbed it until he fell on the other side in a forest with other staircases around him. He made note of which one and wandered until he found…her.

He snapped away from his memory of their meeting with the smell of food and her crawling on the bed, gently tracing his arm. “Solas, I know your awake…” she said with a sweet, deep voice fallowed with a kiss on his ear. He smiled as he stirred, the bad memory of his old heartache bled away to the memory of meeting her, and the memory of last night still fresh as a too large shirt was off her shoulder showing the birthmark he kissed so many times, the bitemarks he left all over her flesh and a slightly discolored bruise around her neck.

“I did not mean to be too rough Venhen.” He groggily said touching the bruise softly, wanting to heal them right away. “it’s okay love, leave them. I like it, I just need to be careful about the welts you left on my ass though. Your hands were made to punish and spoil me.” She kissed his palm, leaving a tiny lick in the pit of it. “But it’s you whom spoils me Vehnen, I would never expect you to feed me after such a night.” He chuckled a bit sitting up the cool air chilling him, he hungered for her again, but this time food won the argument inside him as he stretched his sore muscles before standing up in his naked glory his back decorated with scratch marks some had once bled and since healed a bit leaving tiny dots of dried blood. “If you want me to not heal your bruises, I won’t heal the marks you left me.” Solas said cheekily before grabbing his clothes.

She luckily taught him how plumbing works and he can enjoy a scalding hot bath he only enjoyed in his past life. He sighed as the water washed over him. As he washed his body, she got him some food to eat now and some to take with him back to Theadas along with a sweater she got him to keep warm on those cold nights in Skyhold. She was finishing up as she turned on the radio, it was playing global news as they talked about the newest threats of nuclear war. She wanted Solas to only have good memories of her if these leaders keep on the path they are on. Solas promised her peace will be achieved if he is successful in bringing the veil down, but she still worries. He maybe too late to save her if things keep up the way it is. What he knew concerned him about her safety and if all else fails, he secretly planned to take her to Theadas to lead the mages at his side. Now they have had sex, now a random thought popped in both of their minds…

“What if I/she can get pregnant by me/him?”

#solasmance #solas dread wolf #solas x oc #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #dread wolf #dragon age smut #fanfic #fan fiction #fandom

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fantasmalforces · 2 years

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@ineffablemuses SAID: “ i want you to stay, here, with me. “ -> Roman and Flotsam 🥺

💜 Saying I Love You Without Saying It // CLOSED💜

It’s that voice - that damn, sweet little voice that has Flotsam pausing as he moves to rise from the bed. Roman’s arm is still draped around his bare waist, fingers weakly digging in to tender, pink flesh, thumb idly caressing over the forming bruise that falls right over his hipbone. Roman’s brown eyes are warm for once, shining with a hopefulness that he’ll listen this time. His voice is soft and weak from sleep, and his arm is moving to fully encircle Sam’s waist and pull him back in. For once, the Axie relents. He hangs his head, sighing out a gruff, “fine.” He swears he hears the man mumble a quiet ‘yay’ as he pulls him back in under the cover.

He settles back in against the Russian’s chest, relishing the warmth and the heat of his physical form enveloping his own. Calloused fingers are brushing all over his skin, tracing all the scratches and bitemarks, the bruises and the handprints left on his skin from the last few nights of “catching up.” Despite all of its flaws, despite the patchy texture of his miscolored, despite the missing fins and tail and the fluttering gills along his ribs, despite all the old scars from beatings and stabbings and jobs gone wrong, Roman still loves this body. It still belongs to his first love. And he still loves his first love. Enough that he’s nuzzled into Sam’s neck, kissing the curve of his shoulder just the same way he had the first time they’d snuggled up together in the vibrant afterglow of their lovemaking. It feels... nice. There is comfort in that familiarity. A comfort he is abruptly jolted out of when he feels one of those hands traveling south again.

“Fuuuck... don’t you ever stop?” For fuck’s sake, he swears he just heard Roman giggle. Actually giggle. He rumbles something in Russian about how they have so much lost time to make up for while idly teasing his partner with gentle strokes of his hand.

“You know you love me.~” Roman coos in his ear, mouthing at his jaw as he continues with his torment. And Sam can’t argue.

He does love Roman. As much now as he always did.

#ask : is this what you wanted #mutual : all of my best friends #ineffablemuses #( m : flotsam gilligan // the axolotan assassin )#roman and flotsam : save your tears for another day [ineffablemuses]#usfw #usfw : won’t you get me off #suggestive : pull me back in with a kiss

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dreydreydreydrey · 7 days

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Howdy!

Disclaimer, this is an 18+ blog, if you're a minor get the fuck out, respectfully yet please don't interact with adult blogs. I'm not your parent, yet think with your mind and not your dick/clit. That can end up in either you being manipulated by someone, or someone just feeling disgusted by inappropriatly interacting with a minor unbeknowst to them. I will block minors and suspicious accounts without hesitation.

For the rest my dm's and asks are open :)). Yet do some unconsensual or disgusting things. Or demand me to dominate you or any other of those things and you'll get blocked too :)).

Me as a person:

My name's Drey, 21yo, male, probably have C-PTSD, on the asexual/demisexual spectrum or just haven't figured out what arouses me? Still searching on that front tho. I study psychology, people consider me as a smartass, old soul, childish, a genius, unpredictable and multiple people have already told me that I'm somehow one of the most interesting people they know of? That makes me hella uncomfortable tho. Idolisation gives me the ickies, although maybe I should be more confident on that front? Anyway I have an interest in nerdy things:

-music (we can make a spotify blend if you ask :)): The Strokes, Jpegmafia, Daft Punk, King Krule, Radiohead, Jeff Buckley... and that doesn't even scratch the surface

-classical literature (I should do this more tho): Dostoevsky, trying to get into Murakami, Kafka...

-poetry: Edgar Allen Poe, Rumi, Mary Oliver, Rudyard Kipling...

-philosophy: Kant, Nietzche, Spinoza,...

-cinematography: Wes Anderson, Andrej Tarkovsky, Stanley Kubrick, Quentin Tarantino, ...

-photography

-gym (or wel just started again)

-urbex -A loooot of scientific unneeded shit: -I know how to find Exo-planets with Python

-I may or may not have made some explosive substances and rockets (sugar rocket on yt)

-I read complex psychological, philosophical, engineering, astrophysical, biological, historical,... literature for... wel... fun

-... (just ask ;))

Me in the BDSM/Kink community:

Finally last but certainly not least (since my whole blog will probably be about this) destroying pretty little things untill theres nothing left except for my little dumb cumdumpster blissfully laying in a puddle of her own grool, spit, squirt, tears and A LOOOT some of my cum... bruised, covered in bitemarks, ropeburns,... etc you know the usual stuff like, primarily for me:

-impactplay

-shibari (or any other form of bondage)

-primal play

-switching (Yet idk about my sub side still tbh...) I've been in BDSM communities for some time now. Been to my fair share of dungeons (not the dnd kind...), been lurking in some online communities in the past and decided to make something out of my "passions"... Kinda all started when my friends started to get laid, yet it confused me why I wasn't able to enjoy it? For some reason just hooking up with a girl didn't interest me at all. Even after doing it a couple of times it felt as if I would've been better of just jerking off. I don't get aroused by physical appearances (although they still are important, yet clearly not enough). I get aroused by the mind and soul that are attached to it? (and maybe tears, tears make me hard...)

#bd/sm community #bd/sm kink #shibari #d/s community #ropeplay #free use kink #bd/sm brat

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no-sp4g-4-b4by · 3 months

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Me to the administration of the catsitting company that employs me: Hey could you guys help, I literally have six pills to give to this elderly cat everyday and it's extremely challenging cause he fights back so much, my left arm is absolutely covered in scratches and bitemarks, it's very upsetting and stressful for both me and the cat?

Them: no :(

Me: ok :(

#literally they were like huumm it's complicated to send someone :((#like come on there's no one available??#i legit cried this morning cause i was so upset #the cat kept spitting one of the pill out and scratched me so bad #i feel so bad for him too #i feel so guilty that i cant do it more efficiently it must be really stressful for him #im super worried i might accidentally hurt him while manhandling him #cause he fights me back so much #im not qualified enough for this shit and they wont help me out fml #spag talking #vent #girlblogging

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night-garden-fic · 8 months

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Chapter One: All Colors Combine Down to Black

(Read on AO3)

"If you're painting, all the colors combine down to black, and there's no getting them apart again."

Part One

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Sleep will not come to this tired body now

Peace will not come to this lonely heart

There are some things I'll live without

But I want you to know that I need you right now"

-"In the Arms of Sleep," Smashing Pumpkins

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Chapter One: All Colors Combine Down to Black

"Okay, just a minute here..."

Russell drifted; lost in the sound of a dark, smiling voice, in the feeling of smooth, supple rope working over his already raw wrist.

Before he knew it, he felt his right hand slide down the bedpost, limp and unmoored. He stretched his arm, clenched his fist a few times, and let the tired limb drape across his chest, listening to the creak of the bedsprings as Lady Ann got to work freeing his other hand.

Trying, in turn, not to listen to his own ragged, uneven breathing.

It went better than expected. You're all right.

The thought encouraged him. Underneath that breathless exhaustion, he was already feeling the return of his usual vitality, such as it was.

Then the second rope loosened. With both arms free, Russell wrapped them around himself; warming his hands beneath his crossed arms for a moment, then beginning the usual semi-conscious, informal inspection. Rediscovering, with a reverent caution, the evening's assortment of marks and bruises, reigniting each one with a faint, sweet echo of pain.

The long scratches criss-crossing his shoulder blades, faintly stinging like the summer sun. The bitemarks running up and down his soft flanks. His wrists, braceleted with red and the beginnings of milky indigo. His throat—already slightly hoarse when he showed up on her doorstep—raw and parched from countless cries of ecstasy. The tension in his head and chest...

...Noticeably absent.

(For now.)

Everything that could be wrung out of him had been thoroughly wrung; passionately, painfully, completely, leaving nothing but a pleasant empty buzz, like the subtle breath of a gaslamp.

It really had been too long.

Having hastily coiled the ropes and set them aside, Lady Ann now coiled her own body—lank and ropelike in its own right—around Russell, as he stared up towards the rafters in a numb, blissful haze and absent-mindedly prodded his bruised sides. In his reverie, he let his eyes wander over her ivory back and towards the window, taking note of the snow that had begun piling on the balcony beyond.

It was the first of the season, a shimmering harbinger of all the long, bone-freezing nights to come.

Not for us, though. Not here.

Russell basked in the warm lamplight, leaning into the summery glow of the blazing marks on his back. Lady Ann—who seemed to be feeling as light and satisfied as her grateful conquest—sighed to herself contentedly and purred into his flushed, sensitive skin.

"Looks like you had no trouble getting back in the swing of things, hmm?"

Russell, still breathing heavily and somewhat adrift, ran a hand through his sweaty hair. Another strange, incongruous sense of having discovered his own personal summer in the midst of the chill.

"I mean... I had no choice. I felt like I was about to go crazy."

It's just something people say.

(She probably doesn't know I might be telling the truth.)

Lady Ann snaked one hand beneath him, gently squeezing the back of his neck. Gently, yes, but digging in her nails just enough to make it interesting.

"That makes two of us."

Russell shivered. The way things were going, they'd have to start all over again, and he honestly didn't know if he could take it.

So what if I can't?

(Gods, just finish me.)

He flushed slightly at her touch, at the delicious thought of allowing himself to be worked over until there was nothing left. But, even as his mind grew over-warmed and hectic with blood-hot, quivering thoughts, the calm thankfully remained. Lady Ann had both arms wrapped around him now, holding him tight.

Holding me together.

And, if he was honest with himself, that was the true, secret reason he did all this.

The release, the pain, the total surrender... All exquisite, all essential. Some days, it was the only thing that could remind him he was, really and truly, alive; not just theoretically, but in a vital, almost bestial sense that couldn't be ignored, no matter how far back he'd allowed himself to slip into the dark, dank vault of his skull. He trembled, he gasped, and, at times, he bled.

Her hands didn't slip right through him, and—irrational as it seemed—he sometimes needed the reminder.

But, as surely as he knew that the right kind of touch could almost always bring him back to life, Russell also knew one simple, sad fact: every night he didn't have to spend alone in his own bed, lying awake, trying in vain to hold himself in the absence of anyone else to hold him...

...Well, that was one more long, dark, velvet expanse between him and another kind of darkness; a darkness much less restful than the one currently fuzzing the edges of his vision, a darkness that constantly threatened to swallow him whole.

(Again.)

For now, though, Russell was safe for another night; lying in a warm pool of lamplight as though it were a golden summer sunbeam that had escaped into the dark winter just to meet him, with warm, delicate hands mindlessly traveling along the planes and contours of his body, like water. He almost felt himself slowly drifting down into a heavy, much-needed sleep.

And then he felt her fingers graze across his chest; gently, but just a little too carelessly.

The pain was like a slight electric shock, and Russell inhaled sharply through his teeth, turning on his side and curling in on himself. It was over as soon as she pulled her hand away, but it always somehow managed to catch him off guard.

Lady Ann seemed equally startled, and, in an instant, she was sitting nearly upright, gently stroking his hair.

"Dammit... Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

Russell exhaled slowly.

Breathe. You're still here

(It's all right.)

"...Don't worry about it. Not your fault."

She brushed a few sweaty locks away from his dazed, stricken face.

"I didn't say it was my fault, I said I was sorry. Are you going to be all right?"

Gradually, with a bit of mental coaxing, his body relaxed itself, growing limp and content again.

"...Yeah. Yeah."

Lady Ann sighed as she looked up and down the slack wreck of his body.

Russell knew that look; the "pity's sake, it's always something with you" look, the "honestly, you're a bit of a mess" look. It was that familiar "you're lucky I like you so much" look, which—though he knew she didn't mean anything by it—he always experienced as the prick of a tiny, dull needle in his swollen, aching heart.

He had come to know the look well; a peculiar paradox of soft liquid eyes and a hard tense jaw. And something a bit more immaterial, as though he could watch her mysterious, flinty soul moving behind her face, taking three steps back to get some air. Though it often stung, Russell understood it as a silent refusal to be brought down with him, and could only respect her for that.

In a way, it made him feel safe, not to mention somewhat absolved.

She was willing to sit up with him on the nights that his nightmares woke them both; leaving him perched shivering on the edge of the bed, breathing shallowly and watching the horizon for the first sign of light. And, when they went out drinking, she would subtly keep a handle on things, making sure he wouldn't get too maudlin, or too carried away.

When she failed, she stood holding your glasses while you knelt in the gutter, trying to cry and heave at the same time without choking yourself. Remember that?

Russell did, indeed, remember that. And all the other times she bravely waded into the mire with him, delicately—and somewhat pointedly—holding her heart above all his muck and murk.

I'm so sorry.

"...Hey. Don't you be sorry now."

For a moment, he genuinely feared Lady Ann was reading his thoughts, figuring that, if anyone could, it would be her; the cold, glistening diamond blade of her mind calmly piercing his scattered brain like a honed spear through a rotten apple.

The more likely explanation, of course, was that he'd simply been muttering to himself in half-sleep; eyes closed, glasses sitting crooked against the mattress, mind wandering straight off his tongue without him even noticing. Russell hadn't realized how quickly he'd been fading, and now found himself seemingly sinking into the bed, and barely in control of his faculties.

"I'm sorr-"

Figuring he'd better just quit while he was ahead, he fell silent and allowed himself to sink further. Russell felt his breath slow, watching as the vague images of clouds and figures bloomed behind his eyelids in smudgy, painterly color. The livid beginnings of dreams.

Stay like this.

(Don't turn against me tonight.)

The images, to their credit, didn't make the usual slide towards the bloody and sinister. Instead, they simply scattered almost as soon as they'd arrived; vanishing into the dull red of his closed eyes, giving way to a sudden leaden heaviness in his chest.

Just as Lady Ann had begun to gently remove his glasses and let him sleep, Russell stirred and cleared his throat harshly.

"...Think we could sit up for a while?"

He felt her carefully push the frames back up on the bridge of his nose, then quietly shift on the bed as she propped the strewn pillows against the headboard.

"Sure. Go ahead and get yourself comfortable."

With a bit of effort, Russell pulled himself up, leaned back against the pillows, and let out a rattling cough.

It didn't sound too bad, at least by comparison, but it was still a reminder of the bad cold that he had struggled to shake off, which was the reason for their not having met in over two weeks.

As they giddily ascended the stairs earlier that evening, Russell had reassured Lady Ann that he was now, technically, fully recovered, then warned her that his lungs still weren't completely back to normal. Which, of course, he followed up with another reassurance: that he was probably ready for their usual pastimes, as long as they took it a little slowly. Which, to their credit, they had; at least at first.

Russell cleared his throat again, then sighed, sounding almost defeated.

"...Sorry. I really am okay. It can just take me a while."

Lady Ann put her arm around his shoulders, gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"I know. You really put those lungs to good use tonight."

Sometimes, Lady Ann also had to keep Russell from getting maudlin while he was dead sober.

And, mercifully for both of them, the solution was simple. She ruffled his hair affectionately, slid off the bed to stand at her dressing table, produced an aged bottle from the top drawer, and poured each of them two fingers of whiskey in heavy cut-glass cups.

Handing Russell his glass, she repositioned herself on the bed, draping her arm back around his shoulders with a gratified sigh. She, too, had a taste for the quiet aftermath. Enjoying the way the tranquil glow of the room seemed to match the glow of their spent, satiated bodies, the pair sat in silence.

Between small, warming sips of his drink, Russell held the sharply-hewn glass up to the guttering lamp, watching in fascination as it scattered faint rainbows in the dim room. Finally, when the glass was at last empty, he simply held it there, turning the crystal lazily, watching the colored shards dancing across the floor.

After some indeterminate length of slow, sticky, mesmerized time, he woke from his trance to find Lady Ann gently nudging his face.

"...Hmm?"

He only realized how baffled he probably looked when he heard her laugh.

"Nothing. It just seems like we lost you for a minute there."

With a slight shrug, Russell returned to studying the glass. And the lamp, and the dancing rainbows at their bedside.

"Oh... I was just thinking. Did you know that white light is just every color piled together? And all a prism does is bend the light just right, so they can spread out a little?"

The underside of that idea, of course, was how terribly he wished he could hold a glass up to his white-hot mind; untangle the scrambled spectrum of his thoughts so everything could finally breathe. Still deeply transfixed, he briefly entertained a strange, whimsical thought: that every night he refilled his cup a few times too many, this was exactly what he thought he could accomplish.

But Russell didn't want to bring down the night—not again—so he kept the conversation to the comfortably theoretical and rotated the cup a little faster, as if to demonstrate.

Lady Ann propped her chin in her hands and watched the colors skitter wildly, like bright-winged beetles.

"I've heard something like that, but I don't think they described it like you did... And the light from this lamp isn't exactly white."

Russell sat the cup on the nightstand, stopping the rainbows in their place. The dim, warm, yellowish glow lit up the frames of his glasses, making him squint as he turned to face his endearingly pedantic lover.

"...No, I guess it isn't. And anyway, that's just light. If you're painting, all the colors combine down to black, and there's no getting them apart again."

Another idea with a dark underside for Russell to studiously dismiss. Thankfully, Lady Ann was ready to change the subject.

Colors are only colors to her.

"Interesting... Well, seeing as we have no paint here, and a whole night ahead of us... Think you're up for another round?"

Her mouth was set in a familiar, tantalizing smirk. Russell inhaled thoughtfully, as though testing his own capacities. Then exhaled, somewhat sadly, finding them lacking. He was still having trouble catching his breath.

"...Honestly? I am, truly. But I'm... Not. That took a lot out of me."

Lady Ann's smirk gave way to a playful smile, as one hand moved to gently cup Russell's face. He cleaved to her touch, and felt himself flushing red-hot even through his profound weariness.

"Right! You're exhausted. How about you just lie back, relax, and let me take care of things this time?"

Russell settled back on the pillows, returned her smile with a wry smirk.

"Sounds like an acceptable compromise."

Before he had even finished his sentence, Lady Ann had pushed Russell into the mattress and was clutching his hips in an iron grasp, her dark hair obscuring her features as she readied herself to take him in her mouth.

(Gods, just finish me.)

~*~

I wake in the trenches, the cold mud sucking at my aching body.

(Don't you wake somewhere else now?)

(Maybe. But I always come back.)

It's dark down here where I lie; the overcast sky a distant strip of grey roiling overhead. I watch the clouds roll by, and wonder who the hell dug this trench, anyway. It's not quite deep enough, and so narrow that it can hold only me. It's a tight fit, too; the loamy damp walls squeezing at my shoulders and pinning my arms.

No sword, no bow, no knife, no bedroll between me and the soil. Though the earthen walls loom over me, I feel strangely vulnerable and exposed. I want to curl up, assume the defensive posture. Tuck my head, hide my belly, draw in my limbs.

But something is wrong.

My body won't move.

There's a strange distance between me and myself, and I really should have put it all together the instant my hands didn't obey me. But it isn't until I'm suddenly pelted with cold, heavy dirt that the realization hits me; with all the weight and chill of so much leaden clay.

I'm lying in my grave.

For a second or two, I wait for a rush of panic that never comes.

It's sad, I suppose, but I always feel a little better once I understand things. And, in all honesty, having no more delicate brain or entrails left to protect comes as a relief. I'm so tired, and now I can rest. Simple as that.

(And you have someone waiting for you, remember?)

I do remember. And, for the first time in a long time, it almost makes me smile.

Only almost.

(This body is no longer my own.)

And, since it isn't my own, I relinquish it; focusing my dwindling awareness on my last view of the world, of the sky. The grey clouds are a little depressing, but I want to remember them, want to take them to wherever I'm headed next, along with everything else.

(It really wasn't a bad life.)

(It's the only one I got. It can't have been. I won't accept it.)

More wet earth tumbles down. My eyes follow those damp clods up to a rusty shovel, and the old shovel up to a young man. Wiry scarecrow arms, stooped melancholic shoulders, stringy grown-out hair falling into his face and catching the harsh wind. He could be any one of us.

Then the clouds part for a moment.

And, in that eerie yellow light, recognition hits me.

I know this boy; from mirrors and mud puddles and the rippling murky surface of cheap tea in a tin cup. The sun lights his eyes and ricochets off his glasses, and I realize he knows me, too.

More than that, he knows I'm looking right back.

We lock eyes for a moment, in silent shock at the impossibility of it all.

Then a heartbreakingly familiar cry rings out in the distance, and he drops the shovel and rushes toward it, leaving me half-buried. At first, I want to rise from the grave and throttle him.

That cry was meant for me. I'm the one who answers it.

But then, one last thought; as soothing as a cool hand on my head:

"You will."

It's all taken care of, and I can rest.

The clouds roll in again, and a hard rain begins to fall.

It brings the sodden earth down to swallow me whole.

~*~

Russell crashed back to consciousness; in a room as dark as the grave, tangled in sweaty sheets as damp and heavy as waterlogged soil.

For a panicky moment, he believed himself to be lying in the ground, in that terrifying living-dead state, but his racing heart soon proved otherwise. As did the sound of Lady Ann's peaceful breath, and the warm weight of her slender arm draped across his heaving chest.

Just a bad dream. You're okay.

Even if only one of those things was true, it was better than being buried half-alive. Heart still pounding, Russell took in a deep breath and let it out as slowly as he could, lacing Lady Ann's delicate fingers with his own. She didn't wake, even as he pulled her arm tighter around him, holding onto her like a drowning man.

He lay like that until the light in the window faded from starry indigo to ethereal grey-blue that lit the room in soft, chilly winter tones, until he was sure he'd really survived another night. Then he quietly cleared his throat and whispered hoarsely into the sunrise hush of the bedroom.

"Hey... I have to go."

Russell gently rubbed Lady Ann's knuckles as he spoke, and felt her stir at least partially awake.

"Mmm... 'Kay."

With that, she pulled her hand away and rolled over, dragging the sheets with her. Russell shivered, alone within himself once more. His body was stiff, his lungs were clogged, and, as he dragged himself to sit on the edge of the bed, it really did feel like crawling out of a grave.

No. You're alive.

Russell examined the rope burns on his wrists. They glowed almost magenta against the soft morning blue of the room, and had become mottled with a deeper purple in the night. Just under the skin, he was bleeding. A heartbeat, a pulse. Russell coughed, swayed to his feet, and began to dress for the day. He stepped into his boots, shrugged on his coat, and bent to kiss his Lady on the forehead.

"Thanks for last night. I had a good time."

She gently pulled him down to press his lips to hers for a lazy morning-breath kiss; slightly stale but not at all unpleasant.

"Me too. Come see me again soon, okay?"

Russell straightened up and squeezed her hand again.

"Of course. Already looking forward to it."

And then they parted ways; Lady Ann into the deep blue velvet of early-morning sleep, and Russell into the frosty stillness outside.

The previous night's powdery snow had stuck; along with the previous night's shadows, the previous night's chill. Russell shivered and drew up his collar, burying his icy hands in his pockets and minding his step on the slick cobbles. Already, the flush and heat of the evening was beginning to feel surreal, which made him sad. He didn't want to forget what it was to be warm.

Russell blew a puff of humid air into his hands and rubbed them together as he approached the Library, finding someone waiting there for him.

"Oh, hello... My, this is convenient. I was just going to leave this on the doorstep, but since you're here..."

It was Ivan. Who, with his heavy poncho and vapor-white breath, somehow looked right at home in the cold; as though he were meant to be herding Monsters on a tundra somewhere, instead of propping up an unwieldy parcel on Russell's front porch.

"...Hey, Ivan. Yes, I can take it from here. Thanks."

Russell steadied the narrow package as Ivan adjusted his cozy layers of drab wool.

"Just doing my job. You take care now."

Ivan turned briskly on his heel, waving casually as he walked off to wherever it was he went. Behind him, Russell mumbled a quiet goodbye.

"Yeah. Take care."

Then he opened the Library's door and laboriously dragged the package—taller than he was, and rather heavy for its size—inside. Russell propped it against the wall and leaned heavily beside it to catch his breath, starting slightly as a cheery little voice rang out from somewhere behind the stacks.

"...Daddy!"

For a moment, he was reminded of the cry from his dream, and nearly lost his bearings. But then his daughter barrelled towards him and encircled his waist with small, welcoming arms. He placed his hand on the top of her head, gently ruffling her silky peach-colored hair.

"Heya, Ceci... You're up early."

With no question as to where her father had been at this odd hour, Cecilia nodded into Russell's coat, then took his hand and led him to the kitchen.

"Uh-huh! I made breakfast! Do you want some?"

Russell saw that she'd been carrying around a sticky knife, and wordlessly took off his coat.

"Sure. Just get a clean knife if you've been using butter, okay? We don't want to hurt my stomach."

He examined the back of his coat as Cecilia popped two slices of bread in the oven to toast.

"Don't worry, I just used jam... What kinda jam you want?"

Cecilia triumphantly held up the gooey knife. Russell smiled fondly, even as he noticed the sticky smear she'd left on his coat.

"Well... I see you're having strawberry. That sounds pretty good to me, too."

He playfully held up the stain for her to see before he turned on the tap and held it under the hot water. Cecilia giggled.

"The best kind!"

She made a show of crunching into her jam-heavy toast. Having gotten the stain out, Russell wrung the wet splotch as well as he could, then laid the coat over the back of his chair to dry.

"You have impeccable taste... But go a little lighter on the jam for mine, okay? I'm a tired old man. I don't have your sweet tooth."

Cecilia nodded, then knelt by the oven to check the toast's progress. Russell sat down at the table and observed her with interest. He hadn't yet taught her to use the stove, even for something as uncomplicated as toast, so he imagined she must have just picked it up by watching him. And, though he'd almost wanted to scold her for turning on the oven without his permission or supervision, it felt like a moot issue upon seeing how competently she was managing.

Cecilia, it seemed, could now make breakfast.

Gods, she's growing up fast.

He watched her delicately pull the toast out of the oven, carefully coat it with a thin layer of jam, and toss it onto a small plate, which she proudly placed in front of him.

"Here ya go, daddy!"

Russell took a bite, nodding approvingly.

"It's just right! When did you get to be such a good cook, hmm?"

Cecilia grinned with pride.

"Yesterday! I got hungry while you were sleeping, so I made toast!"

Russell paused mid-bite as he remembered the previous morning. He'd tossed and turned all night, and only managed a few fitful hours of sleep after the sun had already risen.

"Well, you're on your way to being a toast master, that's for sure... Tell you what. Since you're being so grown-up, maybe you can help me out after breakfast? Ivan brought the screen for our room today, and we can go set it up together when we're done here."

Cecilia nodded brightly and started eating her toast in big hearty bites, eager for the day to begin.

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