#III my love | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stonedstargazer666 · 5 months ago

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What if stoned iii edging

Ok so reading this, my first immediate thought was III getting YOU high, and edging/teasing you. Hear me out here... That's right you know what time it isssss!

this one took a lot longer and i'm sorry. but rest assured I was very much stoned while writing this. hope you enjoy the word vom.

TW for this one: use of a drug (Weed), knife, blood, cutting into skin with said knife. not sure what else lemme know

banner by @arminsumi bottom banner by @xxbimbobunnyxx

It would started off as usual, the two of you lounging on his bed. Both of you shirtless, cause it was just the two of you. Watching TV, "Passing" a joint back and forth. He's not smoking at all, he just takes the joint for a moment then passes it back. You're too engrossed in the movie to even pay attention. You start feeling a pleasant heavy feeling, tapping out of the session. III encourages you to take a few more hits, which you do. Cause why not?

So you do, III can see how blood shot your eyes are. The small ever present smile that graces your features whenever you get stoned, the familiar glaze your eyes get when you start getting horny. Yeah, he knows you inside and out. A little touch, a gentle graze of his fingers is enough to pull a soft whine from you. He plays it dumb, whispering in your ear. Asking if you're ok, all the while trailing his fingers up and down your arm. He smirks while you try playing it off, trying to act like nothing is wrong. He knows you better though, and he can feel every little shudder and twitch as you start responding to his touch.

He mentions wanting to try something, his voice low, conspiratorial. The timbre of his voice vibrating through your body. Lighting every nerve aflame, suddenly his touch feels heavy against your arm, his palm almost too hot against your skin. Then it's gone, leaving you cold and slightly disoriented. Your head spins as you look back at your lover, seeing him put in eye drops.

His typical routine while smoking, you had no clue he was completely sober. So sober, that it almost hurt to be around you. You miss the way III takes a breath to steady himself, and you definitely miss the way his eyes rake over your form. He tells you to lay fully on your back, sweetly but still with an air of command. Of course you comply, your head too fuzzy not too. Not when his voice bounces in your hazy mind, making you feel warm and safe.

You have your eyes closed, relaxing into the mattress. you can feel his gaze on you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. It felt like he was almost studying you, but again this was a normal occurrence. Sometimes III would get so baked with you that he would just zone out for a little bit, he'd usually snap out of it after a few minutes and then would be really touchy.

But with your eyes closed, you don't see the methodical look in the bassists eyes. III slowly reaches over to his nightstand, his icy calculating gaze never leaving your body. His fingers curl around the (slightly) dulled pocket knife there, his deft fingers flicking it open. The sharp metallic click seems to echo in the room, III is quick to cover your eyes when he sees them fluttering.

He coaxes you to relax for him, placing the knife on your stomach. Relishing in the way you shudder, and relax under him. III keeps you pressed against the bed, he tells you that he's not going to restrain you this time. Much to your dismay, you jut your bottom lip out in a pout. But he smooths it with his thumb, his voice seeping into your bones as he whispers into your ear. Explaining to you that he wanted to try a different type of teasing this time.

The idea of a different kind of teasing ignites a molten feeling in your core, III's hand still covering your eyes, the knife perfectly balanced on the slight pudge of your stomach. He tells you to be a good pet, and stay still and keep those pretty eyes shut. you nod, a small whimper escaping your throat. Causing the man you love to chuckle darkly at your response, his free hand gently stroking your hip. He's amused by how eager you seem to be for this new type of teasing.

As he speaks, he leans closer to your ear, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. He tells you that tonight, instead of restraining you physically, he wants to challenge you mentally. He wants to see how well you can stay still for him, his low voice sends your stomach into a frenzy. You can't help the shuddering gasp that comes out, as he starts tracing intricate patterns onto your skin with the tip of the blade. Each swipe of the knife creates delicate lines that catch the light in different ways, casting shadows across the exposed flesh.

You can feel the familiar heat of arousal pooling in your stomach, the fresh sting from the blade heavy on your mind. You fist at the bed sheets in an attempt to ground yourself from the already overwhelming sensation, and the high you're feeling. Which seems more intense, but you don't have time to dwell on the thought. Because you feel the hot, wet muscle of III's tongue against the shallow cuts. His feverish groans send tidal waves of heat to your core.

III feels your hips bucking, and smirks against your heated skin. He can feel your heated gaze on him, he knows that he could get you close just by this, your beautiful hazy gaze meets his. He sees the exact second your pupils fully dilate, he sets the knife gently on your chest. your breath hitching at the cool weight. As the knife is placed gently onto your chest, your reaction sends a thrill of pleasure shooting straight to his groin. He knows he has hit on something incredibly erotic, watching the way your eyes seem to dance with desire, and your mouth parting slightly in anticipation. Your hips buck involuntarily as he pulls back, revealing his red-stained tongue and the fervor of his desire.

He runs a finger along one of the thin cuts before he speaks, his voice hoarse and gravelly. He tells you that he loves it when you let him take control, that he loves when you look at him with those wild, yet vulnerable eyes. Your gaze follows him, as he pushes your legs open. Slotting himself perfectly between your thighs, your heart flutters. The dim light behind him framing his lithe frame, you desperately want to reach up to touch him. Your fingers twitch at the thought of running your hands down his torso, or clawing his back until his blood is under your nails. But you vaguely remember that you're supposed to be good, and stay still for your partner.

Said partner can see every nuance look, and flicker of your eyes. He can see the mental battle you are having, and he loves it. He slowly starts grinding against you, smiling devilishly at the small cry that comes from you. You are already so sensitive, and he's barely done anything. III slows his movements, until he stops completely. Keeping himself firmly pressed against your aching arousal, reaching for the knife. III doesn't know how much longer he can control himself, not when you're laying so still and being so good for him. He trails the tip of it over your nipple, down your stomach. With every twitch that courses through you, the blade nicks you. Leaving a dotted crimson line down to your thigh, III stops in the middle of your thigh. The sharp tip digging into the plush flesh, he can see the pleading look in your eyes.

He can feel your body already pulled tight. aching for release. Much like his, it takes everything in him not to shake. Not to completely take you, he turns his focus to your thigh. The two of you have talked about him carving his name into your thigh multiple times, so many times he can see it perfectly in his minds eye. He looks up at you, pressing just slightly harder before letting up tentatively. He sees the answer in your eyes, and on your lips. You give him a breathy yes, and he gets to work. Dutifully carving his name into your thigh, making quick work as to not cause too much pain. But just enough to keep you needy, and trembling beneath him.

He can tell from your moans, and gasps that you're close to your limit. He can feel you throbbing against him, so he pulls away completely once he's done carving your thigh. His mouth waters at the sinful whimpers, and begging coming from you. He leans down to lap at the small trail of blood running down the inside of your quivering thigh. Choosing to ignore your pleas for him, and his need for you. He presses his tongue flat against the fresh cuts, groaning heavily at the metallic and slightly salty taste. Your hips buck involuntarily, getting no friction. You groan in frustration, feeling the knot in your stomach loosen. His gaze locking onto yours, the look in his eyes sending a violent shiver down your spine. Vaguely realizing that he looked completely sober, but the thought vanished as III wraps his hand around your throat.

Your body instantly melting against the weight, little whimpers falling from your lips as he bites his way up. Leaving small already forming bruises, in his wake. His hand moves from around your throat to grasping the back of your neck. Angling your head back, baring the soft flesh of your throat to his mouth. He finally decides to reveal his plan to you, telling you that he's going to see how far he push you, before you break and beg him to make you come undone beneath him. He groans into your neck as he sinks his teeth in breaking the skin, nearly coming in his pants at the cry you let out. Your body convulsing as you climax nearly untouched. He coos at you, lazily dragging his tongue over the bite.

"It's ok baby, we can try again." His knuckles running up and down the length of your now dripping pulsing arousal.