#Well that's just kinky

[cheesomancer]

Riding a bull (literally this time) 🌻

[khaopybara]

❝What else there is to do at a bowling alley but play bowling.❞

FIRST KANAPHAN as KANT PATTANAWAT and KHAOTUNG THANAWAT as BISON episode 6 of THE HEART KILLERS

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: guns

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, gun kink, p in v sex, unprotected bc dont be fcking dumb!, hand kink as well kind of, f receiving oral and handjob, blowjob, being fucked by the gun (silencer), mild degradation but also praise, mentions of drug dealing, somehow still soft rafe idk yall im unable to write rafe being anything but a softie

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks

your eyes widen at the glint of black metal in the low lighting, watching the way rafe works the rag over the piece. you control your gasp when you realize what it is that you’re holding, but you can’t help but take a step back in shock. 

you stumble, not realizing how close you were to the hallway table that decorates your home. rafe looks up at the noise, his eyes meeting yours. you can’t tell what emotion crosses his face. he simply sets the handgun down on the coffee table, still partially disassembled.

“rafe-” you begin, but you don’t have the words to finish as he stands up, stalking over to you, his usually comforting figure suddenly imposing when shrouded in the darkness of night.

“baby.” rafe says softly, taking your face in his large hands. “what are you doing awake?” “i-i heard you come in, and i waited for you to come lay down and when you didn’t i came to check on you.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of your house, rafe hears you clear as day. he stands still, and you take the moment to apologize, “i’m sorry.”

rafe lets out a deep breath, his face reading the guilt of your apology. “it’s okay.” he presses his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he holds you to him. it takes you a beat, but you wrap your arms around his waist in a tight embrace.

“come here.” rafe says after a moment, sliding his hand down your back and leading you into the living room instead of hiding in the hallway. you take cautious steps, eyes on the disassembled gun on the table. 

“sit down.” rafe keeps his voice gentle, but it’s a command, not a request. you sit down on the couch, and rafe slides next to you. he gives you a moment to look at the pieces of metal on the table. 

you know why rafe has a gun. he tries to keep that part of his life silent, but you know he helps run the drug scene on the islands of the outer banks. you’ve never been exposed to the violent nature of what he does but you’ve helped him count money and sort packages. he protects you when it comes to the actual sale, you haven’t even met one of his clients, at least not that you know of.

“it’s okay rafe, i knew you had a gun.” you say. you’ve seen him discreetly tuck it into his waistband when you’ve been out, and did not fail to notice the way he keeps it on his bedside table when he thinks it’s too dark for you to see at night.

“but you haven’t really seen it before baby.” rafe picks up what looks to be the frame of the gun, and he turns it over, showing you all the different sides before placing it on your lap. he gives a nod of your head and you pick it up, surprised that the disassembled part is still so heavy.

“should i- should i learn how to…?” you ask, not having the heart to tell him that you want to, because if anything happens to rafe, you want to be able to protect him as well, even though he doesn’t need it.

“if you want to, i’ll teach you.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, taking the metal back out of your hand. he begins to explain the different pieces of the gun and what they do as he reassembles it. your eyes track the movements of his hands, his slender fingers moving each part into place. you bite your lip and press your thighs together, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by rafe.

“are you turned on, princess?” he asks, no judgment in his voice, rather fascination from how you, his sweet girlfriend, can be so turned on by his gun as he sets it back down on the table.

“no!” you squeal, which just gives you away even more. “pants off.” rafe commands, and you know better than to go against him. you stand up off the couch for a millisecond to shove your pants down to your ankles then sit back down, keeping your thighs locked closed together.

“that is not what i meant, and you know it.” rafe commands, placing his hands on your waist and twisting you so you’re facing him. “if you’re not going to be good, i’m just going to have to do this myself.” he guides you backwards so you’re laying your head against the arm of the couch. he takes one ankle and slides it off the edge of the cushion while moving the other one to rest against the back of the couch, spreading you open wide.

“are you still going to deny being turned on?” he asks, eyes on your underwear sticking to your pussy, wet patch clearly visible.

you smartly decide to stay quiet, and rafe gives a little hum of approval at your choice to no longer continue to deny, knowing the amounts of pleasure he can bring you as he pushes his thumb over where he knows your clit is, not wasting any time as he rubs it over the material.

you let out a moan, back arching off the couch as he touches you. all tiredness you previously felt from suddenly waking up in the middle of the night is going.

rafe smiles down at you, seeing his girl so easily and quickly thrown into pleasure just with one of his fingers. he moves faster, watching the wet patch grow even bigger. he drags his thumb down, pressing against the spot until his thumb presses slightly into your hole, the fabric of your underwear still acting as a barrier.

“n-no, let me take them off, please.” you beg, but it doesn’t dissuade from doing exactly what you expected, gripping your underwear with both hands and literally tearing them straight down the center like the material was tissue paper. 

you grumble something about liking that pair, and rafe calms you by pressing a kiss to your knee that’s hooked over the side of the couch. “i’ll buy you another pair.”

he kisses down your thigh, occasionally nipping at your skin until he reaches your cunt, taking a deep inhale of your scent before sticking his tongue out, lapping at your slickness as he gathers it all onto his tongue.

you try your best to keep your hips still, thighs already burning slightly from being spread so wide. you moan rafes name as his tongue slides up away from your hole and over your clit, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive bud before pulling back far too early.

you watch as rafe picks the gun up off the table, making your eyes go wide.

“my sweet princess, turned on by my gun.” he turns it over in his hand, and you don’t fail to notice that he’s left several parts on the table, probably whatever interior mechanism that makes it actually fire so his toying with it remains safe.

“who would have known that the innocent good girl i first starting dating would turn into such a slut?” he grabs the silencer off the table, slotting it onto the end of the gun. your eyes watch in fascination at his movements.

“my own personal whore. you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” rafe questions, running the tip of the silencer against your thigh, slowly dragging it closer to your center.

“you’d even let me fuck you with my gun.” his words make you gasp, coupled by the smooth metal of the silencer coming into contact with your dripping folds. it’s so cold that you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body.

rafe continues to move the silencer against you, partly to tease, partly to get it covered in your juices. “you’re gonna let me, right princess?”

rafe looks to you as you silently nod, worried if you open your mouth you’ll start to beg, beg for him to put the gun inside of you. rafe presses it against your hole, and your eyes widen at how big it feels, like two of his fingers are trying to enter you, but you’re slick enough that when you take a breath to relax, he’s able to push in, breaking the ring of your hole.

“fuck!” you whine, rafe not giving you any time to get used to the sensation as he continues pushing it inside of you, until the entire silencer is buried in your pussy, the barrel of the gun far too large to fit inside.

“just breathe.” rafe mumbles softly, wanting to continue but not wanting to hurt you. you follow his instructions, sliding your eyes closed as you get used to the foreign object.

when rafe can tell your body has calmed down, he pulls the gun out slightly, watching the way your wetness sticks to the metal before pushing it back inside of your body.

you lift your hips slightly to give some reprieve to your thigh muscles, as well as give rafe a better angle as he moves quicker, starting to thrust the gun against you.

his thumb comes back to your clit, now able to touch your bare skin and the pad of his finger feels burning hot compared to the coldness spreading from within you. rafe presses his thumb against you, keeping the intensity constant instead of rubbing. 

“there you go.” rafe smirks, “my good fucking slut.” 

his praise makes you glow, especially as your high starts to build from the way the silencer is pressing inside of you. the dirtiness of the action just pushes you even farther.

“gonna-” you warn, when suddenly rafes thumb is off your clit, the silencer halting all movement, lodged deep inside of you. 

“you ask permission to cum, slut.” rafe tells you, deciding to push you even harder.

“please, let me cum.” you beg, hands fisting the material of the couch.

“no.” rafe simply says, moving the gun again. “no, because my girl isn’t going to cum for some piece of metal. you’re going to wait until i’m done having my fun and then cum on my cock, understood?” “y-yes.” you nod, flopping your head against the couch as it repeatedly presses inside of you, your clit pulsating at the need to release everything you have inside.

“please.” you sob, feeling tears slide down your cheeks, unable to hold back your impending orgasm much longer.

rafe pulls the gun out of your, making your cry out, missing the sensation instantly. “no, no, rafe please.” you beg.

“shush!” he says, delivering a slap to your inner thigh. “if you were patient at all you’d realize i’m going to fuck you now.” you sit up, blinking your eyes open in the low lighting as rafe tugs his shirt over his head. you take the moment to unbutton your pajama top as you watch him stand, unbuttoning and sliding off his jeans and underwear at the same time.

your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, unable to control yourself as you sit up, giving your legs a reprieve from the stretch as you take him into your mouth, sucking the head of rafes cock as your eyes roll back in your head, tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue.

“can’t resist, can you?” rafe laughs, knowing how much of an oral fixation you have.

you hum around his cock, bobbing your head but not taking him anywhere near fully into your mouth, enjoying playing with the head of his cock with your tongue.

you kitten lick at his tip repetitively, waiting for rafe to inevitably pull you off to fuck you. he lets you have your fun for a bit longer before tapping the back of your head. 

you pull off with a satisfied smile, laying back and resuming the same position on the couch, spreading your cunt wide to show him that you’ve gotten even wetter from sucking him off.

“my pretty slut.” rafe smiles, kneeling on the couch between your legs. he grabs a throw pillow that was discarded onto the floor at some point, shoving it under your hips to raise your cunt up to the perfect angle to fuck.

rafe rubs his cock against you before jutting his hips forward, sinking fully into you in one fluid motion. you let out a curse, boobs bouncing as he immediately starts up a rhythm.

your cunt clenches tightly around him, rafes moans coming to match your own as he moves within you, feeling your tight walls, remembering that his gun was just where his cock currently is. 

he picks the gun up off the table, still gleaming with your slick. he sticks his tongue out, licking up the side. “you taste so good.” he moans, keeping his free hand on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts.

“want to taste yourself?” he asks, but doesn’t even give you a moment to respond before pressing the silencer against your tongue, mouth already open from moaning.

you wrap your lips around the metal, indeed tasting yourself on it. you suck at the gun, keeping your eyes on rafe as you do.

rafe moans, feeling his cock swell inside of you. he would keep fucking you all night, but he can’t hold himself back any longer as he moves faster, plunging as deep inside of you as he possibly can.

“fuck, please let me cum!” you cry out, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, your fingers not feeling as good as rafes, but doing the job.

“wait for me.” is all rafe can gasp out, watching you immediately take the gun back into your mouth after asking.

rafe lasts a few more hard thrusts before he’s releasing inside of you, and you follow quickly, rubbing yourself to completion as you feel your cunt flooding with cum.

rafe continues to gently thrust throughout your orgasms, both coming down together as he sets the gun back on the table. he collapses forward, his naked body pressing against your bare one.

“god, you really are the most perfect slut.” rafe mumbles, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he slowly pulls out, knowing his cum is going to leak all over the decorative pillow you’re sat on, liking the idea of ruining another piece of furniture from his insatiable need for you.

“love you.” you whisper, tilting your head to the side to give his hair a kiss.

rafe leans up, pressing his lips against yours in a fierce kiss, saying the words for him.

“why don’t you go upstairs and wait for me, sweetheart?” he asks, sitting up and giving you a hand to help you sit as well, your body burning as the exhaustion sets back in. “i’ll be up in a minute, i have to clean my gun again because someone got it all dirty.”

[fisheito]

rereading the nuca pink doujin and seeing yakumo tear himself apart re: his snake form vs his human form all this agony and self-doubt and silent suffering and fear of rejection like "if i looked less human would u hate me" , "if u saw me in my true form wouldn't that be horrible. terrifying. disgusting" , "if i admitted i want to swallow you whole would you think worse of me"

and i imagine him asking something like this to the crowd of clan members , who are , undeniably,, a group of Kinky Fuckers

they all smile with the serenity and carefully masked excitement of a horny olivine. masterful beautiful reassuring expressions (errr..... masked to different degrees depending on the clan member)

[quiet-admirer]

Friendly reminder: just because someone participates in a kink space doesn't mean they want kink directed at them personally. Just because you've talked with someone before, whether about kink or not, doesn't mean they want kink directed at them personally or that they want to get kinky with you. Even with someone who you've had kinky interactions with in the past, it's always a good idea to ask first if they're in the mood for a kinky chat or want to receive belly pics or hear about your boner.

Because maybe they do! And then you're interacting with someone who's on the same wavelength as you and you're more likely to get the actual interaction you're looking for! And if they're not into it then you can skip over the awkward conversation or being left on read and you can keep it moving and keep reaching out to find people who actually are into it and interested :)

[mooshkat]

thinking abt buck's new hobby of baking and him making tommy So Much Food when they get back together that tommy starts putting on a lil weight and he gets self conscious about it, has to go buy some pants in a size up, maybe wants to hide his body away and resolves to hit the gym more. but then he sees the way buck looks at him, all soft around the edges and a little squish in his belly, fucking domesticated, and huh.

buck is obsessed with tommy like this. he can't stop touching tommy, hanfd kneading plump thighs and biting at his stomach. holding his face in his hands and looking at tommy in absolute adoration when his cheeks squish.

[zagreuses-art]

Chapter 1: Putting the commander to bed (also posted here on AO3)

I am starting a series of sketches based on scenes from "Putting the Commander to Bed" by Judin on AO3, which is a fantastic fic that I have been rotating in my head since I first read it. I hope to do one for each chapter, and maybe a full illustration for my favorite chapter. We'll see how it goes!

[ID: a pencil sketch that had been digitally colored showing Vetinari leaning over a sleeping Vimes and resting a hand on his neck. Vetinari sits on the edge of the bed, Vimes is turned away from him and looks troubled, the room is in shades of blue with highlights of orange from the light coming in from a crack under the door. Vimes's armor is discarded on the floor. End ID]

[transsextual]

had a really incredible moment this evening. went to my campus art market where one of my friends was selling the tank top i'm wearing - another friend bought it for me and i'm so overjoyed to have it. usually a fit that leans more Traditionally Masculine feels like a costume but tonight it just felt deeply correct and honest and warm. took the opportunity to take some indulgent little pictures because i do not think i have Ever looked more like myself. so happy.

[cobra-creampuff]

tell me what you think the sex is like between my karate dilfs

the blond one is a big crybaby brat but he doesn't know it because he's repressed and bedeviled by machismo, and the other one is not actually a brat tamer and finds The Behavior baffling. however, he is familiar with it and makes it work by uncompromisingly pinning him down to make beautiful missionary love to him. the blond (j-johnny? is it johnny?) cries in both sentimentalism and frustration, screaming I HATE YOOOUUUUU!!! in the style of anakin to obi wan on mustafar the whole time.

[swiftfootedachilles]

im just gonna be honest gang obviously its gonna be easy for you to say youre in love with a character and theyre an angel when anytime they do something you don't like you brush it off as out of character

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @daffi-990 for fuck it Friday and I finally have a little bit of something I can share. Uh oops its not any of my other wips i just had an idea for a pwp yesterday and so here’s the start of that

They’ve only been at this for a few weeks but already Eddie is starting to think of the time they spend in the loft as mini, sexy vacations. He hasn’t said this out loud because he’s pretty sure Buck would make fun of him for it, but there’s something not altogether like regular life about making out on a nice big bed who’s sheets he didn’t have to change. Also — and this he knows Buck would turn bright pink about — Eddie had kind of been thinking of his house as their house even before they’d taken that last step towards each other and kissed in the kitchen. He’s just biding time at this point, because asking someone to move in not even a month into a relationship is probably embarrassingly over-eager, and Buck’s lease isn’t up till June anyway. He hasn’t actually circled mid May on the calendar, but if he spends his spare time daydreaming about taking Buck out to a nice dinner and asking him to come home for good, that's nobody’s business but his own.

Tagging @shitouttabuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @bigfootsmom @rewritetheending @buckactuallys @butchdiaz @lover-of-mine @thewolvesof1998 if you haven’t shared already!

[transyashiro]

Thank you for answering the question about fat characters, and sorry for the wording. I keep finding artists who can draw fat chars, while also posting on their side blog which they directly label as kink art, the char fully clothed in a normal position just. Fatter. and I dont know how to articulate it, but its just really interesting seeing how some people see a limit? and I don't know why or what makes it a limit

no worries, i get what you mean. for what it's worth, i've drawn fat characters on this blog and i don't view or label it as kink art because in my mind it's not in any way different from all the other art i've made

[charmac]

This is probably a goofy question but I'm curious why your macden sugar daddy au isn't tagged w/ daddy kink. Since it's kinda so prevalent

Hahaha I guess cos Mac doesn't really have a daddy kink? Eventually.. maybe probably definitely, but at least at this point in the story he doesn't necessarily have a daddy kink at all.. I guess Dennis has the daddy kink if one exists where we are (but as I see Dennis, the kink is not really so much about the daddy aspect but the control he has over making Mac submit in that way, even then.. kink might be a stretch..)

I add the tags as they pop up in the story and since that's the underlying theme of the fic, the tag never occurred to me. I guess it should be there, lmfao, since tags are for the reader and not the characters. Literally just never considered it!

[singsweetmelodies]

mehehehe.....piarles + 25 or 45 🫶

25 = Green Card Marriage

45 = Vampire and Hunter

hehehehehehehe... let's see about 25 and 45 🤭👀

"It's brilliant, Charlito!" Pierre insists, spreading his arms like he's saying, come on. "I'm a hunter, so I'm allowed to settle in any country I want. If you're married to me, you'll be allowed to settle there too, and you can get that position at Rutgers like you have always wanted."

Charles folds his arms. "I'm a vampire, Pierre," he reminds him, pointedly. "Or have you forgotten?"

Pierre folds his arms, too, mirroring Charles' own pose. "Of course I haven't forgotten, calamar."

Calamar. As always, the nickname takes Charles right back - to that day in the back of his parents' garden, when Pierre had decided to come over for a surprise visit and he'd found Charles. Drinking. It had only been from a blood bag, of course (Charles would never kill a person, and he'd been too young then to know about charming someone to let him drink just a few sips) but it had still been more than enough for Pierre to understand what was going on. Pierre had frozen where he stood, eyes blown wide.

And Charles had thought, no no no, and he'd thrown himself at Pierre before he could think better of it. "Please don't leave, Pierrot, please, I promise I'm not evil and we're not evil, I don't care what they say on the news because it's not true, we don't hurt people, we don't hurt anyone, just... please don't go. You're my best friend, please -"

Pierre had stopped him there, putting a gentle hand over Charles' mouth. "I don't care that you're a vampire, Charles," he'd said with surprising firmness for a ten-year-old. "You're my best friend too. And, anyway, you're less of scary vampire and more like... a clingy little squid."

"I'm not!" Charles had shrieked, but of course Pierre had taken to calling him that every day from that moment on. (Charles never protested too much, because the nickname always felt like Pierre's way of saying I know what you are and you're my best friend anyway; I'm not going anywhere.)

"... Charles? Earth to Charles?" Pierre is asking, waving his hand in front of Charles' face. "Ah. Hello again. Did you go to vampire-planet?"

"You know we're from the same planet as you," Charles says immediately, rolling his eyes. "Or didn't they teach you that at hunter school?"

"Mmm, no, I think I skipped that module," Pierre says, and then he grins cheekily, tongue between his teeth.

Charles swats at him, and Pierre catches his wrist easily, his Hunter-trained reflexes quick as ever. Charles' breath catches.

It shouldn't be hot. It should be the opposite of hot, for fuck's sake - those kinds of reflexes are trained to kill people like Charles.

Except, Pierre didn't become a hunter to kill vampires. No - he did it for Charles. Not to hunt him, but to learn how to protect him from other hunters.

So, yeah. It's seriously hot when Pierre shows off some of those skills of his.

"Are you going to let go of me?" Charles asks, swallowing thickly. He can't help the way his gaze flickers to Pierre's fingers wrapped around his wrist, still holding him tightly in place.

You could hold me like that any time you want, Charles thinks, and fights against his blush. It shouldn't even be possible for vampires to blush, for fuck's sake, but Pierre manages to get Charles to do it anyway.

Pierre, thankfully, seems oblivious to Charles' spiralling thoughts. He winks at Charles, playful and cheeky as he always is. "Nope," he says, popping the p. "Not until you agree that my idea is brilliant."

And, right. Right. Charles had almost forgotten the reason why they're even here - Pierre's stupid, hair-brained scheme to get Charles his dream job at Rutgers.

Rutgers, which still does not allow any supernaturals onto its teaching staff, let alone Monégasque vampires.

"It's a terrible idea," Charles says flatly. "They'll never let me teach there if they suspect I'm a vampire."

"But if you're married to a hunter, nobody will ever suspect you're a vampire," Pierre points out, triumphantly. "See? It's genius."

Charles has to admit that it's... clever. Absolutely insane, yes, but clever.

Pierre must be able to read it on his face, because his eyes light up like his favourite F1 team has just won a race. "See! You do think it'll work!" he crows.

"I don't think -" Charles tries, but Pierre cuts him off with a dramatic sigh.

"I've done all the research, Cha. Trust me, there's no way that this can go wrong."

There is, Charles thinks, only a little despairingly. It's not so much that he's worried about getting caught - no, Charles is pretty good at charming officers by now. Half of the time, he doesn't even have to use his hypnotism.

What he's far more worried about is the fact that he'll be married. To Pierre.

Pierre, who he's only been in love with since the first time he called Charles "calamar" and stayed when anyone else would have left.

Pierre, who Charles knows would taste sweeter than anyone else in the world. Because that's the thing about being a vampire and being in love with someone: even one tiny sip of their blood will sustain you sixteen times longer than a random person's would.

It's bad enough just like this, when they're just friends, and Pierre throws his head back to laugh or slides his arm around Charles' waist, and Charles has to fight with himself to keep his fangs tucked away - because even though Pierre is so close and smells so good, he is not Charles' to taste or Charles' to have.

It's hard enough to hold himself back when they're just friends. Charles has no idea how the hell he'll be able to do it if they're fucking married.

But as always when Pierre suggests a hare-brained scheme, Charles is helpless in the face of his sparkling blue eyes and half-cheeky, half-pleading smile.

"Okay, calamar," he agrees, and even though he might just have signed the warrant for his own death-by-slow-torture-of-wanting-his-best-friend-too-much, it's worth it a thousand times over for the way Pierre beams at him and uses the wrist he's still holding to tug Charles into a tight hug.

"Rutgers, here we come!"

(50 Romance Prompts Ask Meme)

[strigital]

Mornings After 🚬☕

[imogenkol]

screw it. like/comment on this post if you’d like to be tagged in future nsft oc content ❤️‍🔥