#cnc weapon play

[dollsdesires]

What do I want to be for Halloween??

Violently fucked by someone in a ghostface mask; preferably at knifepoint 🔪

[plushiepup-princess]

I'm so needy and sticky (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

I'm willing to do anything just to be used by a total perv with a mask on while holding my knife to my throat, want him to shove my face into the pillows while he forcefully fucks me... *Daydreaming*

[pxrfqct]

concept: sitting in front of me on my back as you keep my legs spread with your knees, forcing the barrel of your gvn inside my cvnt with your knife against my throat.

[dollsdesires]

🖤 Welcome to my blog 🖤

If you’re under 18, please leave. I post NSFW content, so this is no place for minors.

CONSENT IS EVERYTHING. I do not condone any real-world harm or abuse.

Trigger warning: hard kinks (CNC, somno/intox, stalking/kidnapping, weapon play, bdsm, impact play, breath play, dd/lg and other dom/sub dynamics) This is not an exhaustive list, please take care of your mental health 🖤

DNI/GTFO: pedos, racists, homophobes, transphobes/TERFS, fatphobes, ableists, animal abusers/zoophiles, and anyone who’d be considered a hateful POS (I’ll probably add to this later)

ED blogs, I’m NOT your thinspo. I survive on pasta and burritos and eat more than some full grown men. Please seek professional help 💕

A little bit about me:

I’m a 5’5” bi girl in my late twenties and a masochistic sub with bratty tendencies. I’m fairly new to the BDSM community and I’m excited to continue exploring my kinks. Very much unavailable.

Animals, gaming, music, food, and spending time in nature are a few of the things that make me happy 🖤

As my bio states, all of my photos/videos are tagged #dollsdesires

If you’d like to see my writing, check the tag #dollsdesires text

DMs and Asks are always open 💕

However, life keeps me busy and I can’t check my messages often. Please don’t take it personally if I’m unable to respond to you. My personal life will always come first 💗

All of my posts will be queued, so I’m probably not online even if I’m posting

MAIN: @dollsdesires BACKUP: @dollsdesiresx

[plushiepup-princess]

I'm unbelievably horny for someone to hold a knife to my throat while i jerk them off ~♡

[dogboygirlthing]

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. welcum to my blog ;3

☆ jake * it/any * 20 * plural

☆ boydyke girlfag genderfuck puppything

☆ safe space for freaks and weirdos

☆ fat, transgender, and willing to bark

more info .˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚

exclusively t4t (if yr trans i'm giving u sloppy head <3)

i tag stuff occasionally when i feel like it

this blog is not my main!!!

˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. dni

minors, terfs/transphobes/exclusionists in general, detrans/ageplay/unsanitary/feeder blogs

my nos .˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚

scat/vomit, feederism/any weird shit w fat people (i am fat and it makes me uncomfy), ageplay

thanks fur visiting! .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

[muntitled]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Summary: "Kylo was nothing if not a sadist,"

Warnings: Language, WarPrisoner!Reader, Toxicity, Weaponizing Hux, Humiliation, God Complex, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smut +18 (Minors DNIA, DEAD DOVE FIC, Dark fic, Sadism, Masochism, Inexperienced!Kylo, Ownership Kink, Dry humping, Forced sex, Spitting, CNC, Dubious Consent, Massive Degradation Kink, Inappropriate Use of Force, Choking Kink, Size Kink, Impact Play, Groping, Breast Play, Premature Orgasm, Controlled Orgasm, Dom/Sub themes, Dom!Kylo, Sub!Reader, Brat Tamer!Kylo,;Bratty!Reader, Slight!Exhibition Kink, Humiliation Kink, Inappropriate Mind Reading, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Mentions of Rape, Fingering, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Gagging, Subspace.

Do not read this if you're incredibly sensitive to violent imagery. If this doesn't make sense don't say anything or i'll cry <3

As Hux walks diligently ahead of you, you could not tell by his tense shoulders and his palms clasped behind his back that he was following the duties of a madman.

While he escorts you, Hux thinks back to his slip-up with Ren.

The way he shouldn't have mentioned your name in a comprehensive report about the overall running of the Starkiller. The way he should've known how dangerous Kylo is when it comes to anyone taking even the vaguest of interest in playing with his toys.

"Despite having the accolades of an established pilot for the resistance," Hux had said moments earlier when Kylo was pacing up and down his private chamber, "Your prisoner refuses to put any of her skills to use aboard the Starkiller. She's essentially useless dark matter," He uttered his words rather clumsily. As if forgetting he was reporting to a beastly excuse of a man.

Hux only realises his mistake when Kylo stops his various pacing to turn slightly. His unmasked head tilts to the side as he advances on Hux in a low, large gait. Everything about the boy being so unnaturally large.

"My prisoner?" He steps closer, "Or the First Order's?"

Kylo's laugh appears unnatural without the mask. Not any less intimidating but certainly, frighteningly human.

"You act as if my will is not synonymous with that of the First Order, general," Kylo's blood runs fucking cold at the thought, "You insinuate that I keep her here out of my own free will,"

"Well, we all know how much a boy fancies his toys," Hux's degradation causes Kylo's Adam's apple to bob and a deep frown settles over the boy’s face. Whatever weakness Hux was accusing him of, it rattled the foundations of his already fragile ego and Hux smirked.

"Go tell her I wanna see her," the first command left Kylo's lips in a fairly controlled and monotonous manner. The second however... "FUCKING NOW!"

Robotic inclination bleeds from the mask of the stormtroopers “Yes Sir-”

Without sparing the stormtroopers so much as a single glance, Kylo spat, "Not you, fucking degenerates," Kylo stares Hux down as he steps towards him. His voice is ice cold. "I want you to summon her," he takes immense pleasure in the way Hux's smile drops.

Kylo has observed the glances Hux throws your way and it makes his fucking stomach turn. He's seen the uncomfortable leering and the lecherous thoughts. Kylo was nothing if not a sadist. Humiliating Hux using the object of his desires.

He wants you and that makes Kylo want you even more... Violently so

"Where are you taking me?"

You could feel the rest of the crew watching your every movement as you trailed behind General Hux like you were compelled to do so by some unseen leather leash. You cannot help but feel as though you have done something very bad and very naughty.

You try to rid yourself of these thoughts immediately.

Perhaps he was taking you to see the vermin underneath the mask.

That thought should not sprout such a deep desire within you. Kylo was your captor and yet, he fascinated you more than anything ever could.

"At least slow the fuck down," You breath out, trying by all means to evade all eye contact with curious onlookers.While you walk you try to keep your head high and appear unaffected by their piercing glares. Every stormtrooper, navigator, pilot- even down to the measly technicians all keep their eyes trained on you and you glare back. Leering your head forward with narrowed eyes because being held captive on the Starkiller was punishment enough. You would never allow yourself to be intimidated by the judgemental stares.

"Do you ever plan on disclosing our destina-"

You're interrupted by a sharp and loud hiss before two doors part. Your eyebrows furrow before you're dragged into the chamber, quite literally against your will. You did not wish to get acquainted with any more rooms on the Starkiller. Hoping that one of your comrades in the resistance might have saved you long before you ever had to make this ship your dwelling place. But you've only crawled deeper into the Starkiller's core and you find yourself here, standing before him in his black cowl with his hands clasped behind his back.

The room is as lifeless as the rest of the vessel. The bed, colourless and hard. The only signs of vibrance is the east window depicting a slab of stars in hyperspace.

"I am told you've made yourself fiercely unlikable in the flight deck.” Kylo says, completely ignoring your slightly shocked experience at seeing him without his helmet.

“That's what this is then?” You turn briefly to make eye contact with Hux before turning to Kylo with one arched brow, “I'm being scolded now?”

“You're insolent when given any orders,” he oaces before you while Hux stands behind you by the door, “You disobey at every given turn and you're resistant. Vexingly so.”

“How clever of you, it seems as though you'd only just discovered a key characteristic from a member of the resistance.” You say with a smirk, “Clever, Clever boy."

“It's that mouth of yours that's gonna get your head slain from your very shoulders.” Kylo advances you like a midnight storm and you fight to stand your ground.

“I have grown terribly bored of this place,” You say, “Perhaps even death might be more eventful then whatever you are, Kylo.”

Before Hux is able to make his escape Kylo grabs at your throat, encircling his hand around your skin like a vice until he is forcing you to look at Hux ahead of you.

"This is what you want?" He isn't speaking to you but to Hux, pushing your cheeks together in a painful display of humiliation. "This is what's been plaguing that mind of yours-"

"I've no time for this-"

The very last thing Hux is able to see before he leaves Kylo's quarters, is your frightened eyes and Kylo looming behind you. A mere mouse being imprisoned by a God.

You make the mistake of thinking that Hux's absence might soften Kylo's resolve, but your time as his captive should have let you know that there was nothing soft about this man. Nothing at all.

"You should be grateful, you know that?" His lips graze your head and you're suddenly hyper aware of his proximity.

You're hyper aware of the closed metal doors that were probably being guarded by a pair of heavily armed stormtroopers. There is no escaping the clutches of this monster behind you.

And yet; you still find yourself scoffing, "I should be grateful?" You ask, hoping to assimilate every shred of confidence you had left, "I should be grateful to be your prisoner-" you wince when his grip on your jaw tightens and he's wrenching your face until you're craning your neck backwards to face him.

Large, looming, and completely fucking livid.

"You should be grateful that you're still fucking breathing, you brat-"

And then, a very strange thing occurs.

Since the moment Kylo had wrangled you off your home planet, you had sworn to be nothing but defiant. In honour of everything you stood for, you would never let him see you weak and yet here you are, carelessly allowing the faintest of whimpers to slip through quivering lips.

The sound confuses Kylo initially. In fact, he cranes your head back further, not caring whether you were comfortable or not as he bends down, appearing to inspect your mouth for that peculiar sound further. He squeezes your cheeks lightly, prodding the round tissues of fat as if fervently trying to search for whatever button might allow for that little sound to spill from your lips again.

"How completely and utterly curious-"

"You're fucking hurting my neck-" the fire returns and with it, comes your will to wrench your face out of his grip. You're only able to get free because he lets you and you know this.

"What..." Kylo bends even lower towards you and you turn your head to face the blank wall ahead of you. Evading eye contact with this man was nothing if not crucial. "What was that sound you just made-"

"It appears as though hearing nothing but the cries of utter doom and damnation has defamiliarized you to the sound of pleasure, Ren-"

Your breath is wiped clean from your throat not even a second later when you steal a look downwards at a gloved hand interlocking itself around your throat once more. Seemingly his favourite place.

"All the praises that could fall from your mouth..." Kylo drawls before pressing himself firmly against your backside, "All that you could say to worship the hand that feeds you and you still choose to be insolent-"

You try to escape his death grip but he doesn't let you out this time around. All you can do is be thankful that he had the decency to allow you to breathe.

"That's all you fucking know how to do right," Kylo's lips are at your ear and your knees buckle. "Insolence. Insolence. Insolence." Your legs give out, but before you're able to topple to the ground in a puddle of your own lustful perversions, his other hand curls around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his front.

“Today's the day you fucking obey," he whispers, "Understand?"

"I-I-”

Kylo is not sure how he does it, or why he does it, or where he got the understanding to do it, but his hand makes its very slow descent from your collarbone, to the spot right above your pillowy breasts. Clad in nothing but your knee length tunic, a garment stitched with fibres indigenous to your homeplanet, you suddenly feel incredibly naked and incredibly exposed. What was once an act of rebellion, is now your undoing.

"There is a way to make you disobey isn't there?" You can hear him becoming excited. "Every cattle has their price. What's yours?" Before you're able to turn and possibly beg for some sort of mercy, he's already in there. The stuff Kylo sees digging around in your mind, is enough to have him staring off into hyperspace. His eyes are trained on nothing at all as he rapes your most memories and most private desires. All while drawing you impossibly closer, until his mouth was buried in your hair and his hand was closing around your left breast. You squirm underneath him until finally, he's released from your stupor.

You did not dare turn around to look at him, in fear of seeing his dark eyes dilated with enlightenment.

"How barbaric." He whispers. "That's what I have to do in order to get you to listen to me,"

"I-I don't know what you're-"

"Open your mouth." Before you're ever able to interject even a single word, Kylo's hand is digging into the skin of your jaw, "Do I have to do it for you- open your mouth-" He wrenches your mouth open and cranes your neck back once more.

"That's it," You're absolutely frightened to see the violence that has darkened those irises. This is the look that's shielded behind the mask during times of battle. This is that look no one got to see.

Yet here you were.

"You're so fucking filthy, you know that?" You're nodding before your brain is aware of it, "You're a filthy, perverted little creature," one by one, your inhibitions slipped away from you until you could feel yourself become completely and utterly dumb for him. Your mind becomes a tabula rasa as Kylo bends his heavy frame downwards, spitting directly into your open mouth. There it is. That whimper he wanted to hear so badly.

You're not even aware of his hand reaching around your front until he's parting your legs with determination. "Is this where you want me?" Your mouth hangs open and you look up at him glassy doe eyes as he cups your drenched heat. Kylo locks his full lips and presses his front impossibly closer to your backside. "This whole time I've needed to get you in line, and the answers been here this whole fucking time?" A gloved hand swipes your underwear to the side and the wind is completely knocked out of you when Kylo pushes his fingers in immediately. He fucks his fingers into you with zero restraint and zero preparation, and the roughness has your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your skull as you grow limp in his grip. Lucky for you he's so large, lucky for you he might as well be a stone wall behind you, letting you lean against him with your long legs spread wide for his absolute assault.

"Look at me." He says, holding you against him by your throat while his index and middle finger violate your soaking cunt. Despite his orders you're still a drunken, blundering mess with half lidded eyes, promising to keep you locked away in your pleasure.

"If you don't fucking look at me, I'll stop and you'll suffer." He squeezes your clit quite painfully, immediately bringing you out of hedonistic stupor-

"FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks, with a note of cockiness that had your brows furrowing.

"Are you stupid?! Of course I don-" before the curse could even escape your mouth in its entirety, Kylo's blocking out your airways. You fight to scratch at his gloved grip around your throat but his grip is fucking metallic.

"Look at how docile you look when you're not running your mouth,"

Your insides were screaming for oxygen, yet your hips rut against his hand. Kylo slyly adds a third finger inside your slippery cunt. "What a whore," he whispers, causing you to fuck forward against his hand, nearly humping yourself to completion as the blood flow to your brain seems to stop completely. You need oxygen and you need to cum. You just don't know which you need more.

"You're nothing but fucking filth-"

Your mouth opens to let a moan escape but it never does, and Kylo watches your struggle with a pained expression of his own.

"F-Fuck, I've never seen anything so vile-"

You were slipping. Whether it was into unconsciousness or an orgasm you couldn't tell. "If you pass out I will fuck you," he whispers, "There's not fucking escaping me-"

And in that very moment, Kylo unlocks the invisible grip on your airways and suddenly you can breathe and cum. Almost immediately you're slipping into a violent, damn near supernatural orgasm that has you seeing every star in the known galaxy.

"F-FUCK- oh my-" You're rutting against his hand, tongue lolling out all while Kylo continues to fuck his fingers into your cunt.

"That's it," He whispers, "Cum for me, you useless fucking whore-" Every vile sliver of degradation causes a fresh wave of pleasure to roll through you until the first droplets of tears are rolling down your cheek.

"Don't fucking do that," he whispers, pulling you closer than ever, "Don't fucking do that unless you want me to fuck you right now-"

He watches the tears roll down your face and absolutely loses it. Now suddenly aware of his own cock aching in his pants.

"K-Kylo please-" You try to push his hand out of you but to no avail. "It's too much-"

But his eyes are shut, and your body is overcome by wave after wave of electrifying shivers. The pleasure quickly bleeds into the pain of being so heavily overstimulated but Kylo is lost in his own world now. He clutches you impossibly closer, mumering obscenities into your hair as he ruts against your ass and you fucking pray for it to be over. Your pussy is fucking spent and yet he's still keeping his hand there, as if driven by his own need to cum.

"You stupid fucking slut- look what you made me do-" He's rutting against your ass, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stutter, "F-Fuck-" the whimper that breaks his voice is utterly intoxicating and you find yourself slipping into another dry orgasm as Kylo pushes against you, cumming in his pants with various expletives falling from his pillowy lips. When your orgasm falls you beg him to let go of you and when he does, you topple to the floor.

Never in your life have you felt so weak. So spent. So utterly used.

Kylo does not spare you a glance when he turns around. "This is where you will reside from now on," he says with finality. Careful to let his voice relay how utterly broken he feels. Just as broken as you.

[rainrot4me]

Kinktober 2024 (Creepypasta)

Once characters have been decided, I’ll label accordingly!

- In the Shower/Anal (Jeff the Killer)

- Dirty Talk/Over the Phone (Ben Drowned)

- Mirror/Overstimulation (Eyeless Jack)

- In the Car/Road Head (Masky)

- Jealousy/Friends with Benefits (Clockwork)

- Thigh Riding/Sex on Film (Hoodie)

- Clothed Sex/First Time (Ticci Toby)

- Public/Hidden Vibrator (Habit)

- Striptease/Orgasm Denial (Nina the Killer)

- Creampie/Ritualistic Sex (Bloody Painter)

- Wet Dream/Somnophilia (Laughing Jack)

- Cockwarming/Formalwear (Jason the Toymaker)

- Late Night/Secret Relationship (Jane the Killer)

- Stalking/CNC (Hoodie)

- Wall Sex/Marking (Eyeless Jack)

- Spanking/Restraints (X-Virus)

- Hair Pulling/Pegging (Jeff the Killer)

- Masquerade/Brat Tamer (Ben Drowned)

- Age Gap/Desk Sex (Slenderman)

- Weapon Play/Prisoner (Masky)

- Halloween Special! You choose the character!

Here’s the lineup! There are 21 prompts (because if I did 31 I think I might actually pass away), so I’m going to try and post them as evenly spread out as possible!

For the Halloween special, you all get to choose the lucky creep!!! Choose wisely!

If you have any recommendations or requests for specific characters with specific prompts, comment them! October’s going to be here soon!!!!

As always thanks for reading!

[dollsdesires]

You're tied up and blindfolded on top of your bed, what do you think is happening first?

That’d be up to my captor or whoever put me in restraints, but I’d like to think I’d hear a voice as they’d begin to remove articles of clothing 🙈💕. Ideally, said clothing would be strategically cut off with a sharp blade 🔪🥵🤤

[kittytiddycommittee]

Hello there 💜

I'm Miss Lena, though I also accept "ma'am" and sometimes "mommy." Formerly kittytittycommittee

I'm just a petite, lonely MILF here to take advantage of all the psychosexual issues you don't want to talk about in therapy. If you need praise/cuddles and also have a lingering fear of la chancla (or your culture's equivalent), you've come to the right place.

House rules:

Behave yourselves. Being disrespectful will get you blocked.

If you're here, it means you're willing to see NSFT content.

If you're a minor, scram.

I'm not answering DM's right now. Yes, even you. I'll let y'all know if that changes.

Asks are open and questions are welcome, but always refer back to rule #1.

Bigotry is not tolerated.

My kinks:

Femdom & gentle femdom

Pegging/prostate play

Edging & teasing/denial

Praise & pet names

Breastfeeding & breast worship

Bondage & collars

Toys

Domestic discipline

Spanking & light/moderate impact play

Lingerie

Glory holes

Creampies

Mild exhibitionism/voyeurism

My limits:

Weapons

Blood, piss, scat, etc

Diapers

Incest

CNC (receiving)

Cuckqueaning

Age play younger than teenage

Fisting/extreme insertions

Extreme impact, roughness, & humiliation

General about me:

In my thirties

Bisexual. Switch-y for women only. Yes, even you.

Single and firmly off the market

I have nothing but love for bisexual men, short kings, uncut cocks, bottom boys, and butch women. Y'all are perfect and we should make out.

Catholic school survivor

Love reading, gardening, cooking, DIY, textile arts, history, spooky shit, & theme parks

Emo, motown, 90's/early 2000's pop, showtunes, 80's new wave, & some metal

So come by and say hello 😘

[wickedlvst]

the faintest hint of blush colored her cheeks pink, both hating and loving how easily he'd figured out how wet it made her to hear him call her a good girl, how eager she was for another word of praise to leave his lips. "i mean", blair drawled, gaze lowering just slightly as she found herself incapable of meeting his gaze any longer without blushing even harder, a little embarrassed by just how shy she grew at the mental image involuntarily popping up in her mind, refusing to be pushed away. after all, it wasn't like she was usually a prude, but then again, nobody had ever suggested something like this before either. "i guess i could be convinced by the promise of a new bag and some matching shoes", she finally added - needing to at least pretend to not do it only to hear him call her a good girl once more - as the hint of a smirk played around the corners of her plump lips, finally managing to meet his gaze once more. "how would it even work?" one perfectly arched eyebrow perked up, a hint of eagerness underlying her words that couldn't be denied. "you want to try it out tonight, right?"

OPEN TO: f. BASED ON: somewhat inspired by this. pick some k*nks from my list in the source and we can go wild with what he wants her to do. alternatively, if you're stuck for ideas, we could take it in this sort of direction instead. CONNECTION: l.over, s.ugar baby, employee / assistant, babysitter, student, daughter's best friend or best friend's daughter, son's girlfriend. t.aboo connections such as daughter, niece, and sister are very much welcomed. DO NOT LIKE THIS STARTER.

IT WAS JUST A SUGGESTION. at least that's how aiden nonchalantly voiced it to the smaller, passively shrugging his strong shoulders to suggest no threat of expectation. though the man desperately craved to explore every dirty fantasy that consumed his mind in her company, he was equipped with the experience to know that when obedience came naturally to a partner, he would no doubt c*m harder from being the one to exploit it. ❝ it's just an idea. we don't have to do it. ❞ as he angled his head down at the other, tease tugged at his lips, mischief sparking in the blue of his eyes as they met hers. ❝ i just figured that a good girl like you would want to do it. ❞

[throneofsapphics]

a/n: this year I'm doing kinktober a bit differently, I'll have one longer kink and angst riddled fic with shorter drabbles/oneshots sprinkled in between. I'll keep this masterlist updated as it goes on. for some of the days I'll be opening up a vote for which character to pair our lovely reader with <3

if anyone wants to be added to a taglist, either for the series, kinks, or both please let me know! you can comment under here or send me an ask/message :)

against the contract - poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare.

first post 10/1, updating weekly

kinks drabbles/fics list (dates subject to change)

10/3 one for the party - orgy with aelin’s court | posted 10/6 experiments - toys with aelin | posted 10/9 special plans - punishment with poly!neris 10/12 (not very) patient - impact play with lorcan 10/15 throne pet - exhibitionism with poly!manorian  10/18 pretty girl - dacryphilia with poly!cazriel 10/21 give me more - throat-training with lucien 10/24 chase me baby - cnc/primal with cassian 10/27 weapons - gun play with poly!ruhnlidia  10/30 kittens - pet play with manon, nesta, & elide

bonus content

to be added

[whorrorbellee]

Beautiful Boy Three.

chapter one chapter two

Dark!aemond x strong! reader

Warnings: violence, fingering?afab reader, only description is long dark hair, Starvation. Stockholm syndrome(eventual)cnc,dub con, ptsd flashbacks

“You look better like this," he says, his voice low and raspy.You flinch, swatting his hand away from your face. He runs his hand over your cheek and then suddenly your head is knocked back into another direction, your cheeks swells. Without warning, he grabs a fist full of your hair, your chin rises upwards

You're perched on a chaise lounge, new gown, hair clean and braided, ankle bandaged. Aemond's head is in your lap and a book perched on his chest as he reads to you. Something about a war. You haven't been listening, you're too busy staring at the fire, Aegon's face melting and melting into heavy armour.  

You're starting to view Aemond as two different people, he's teetering over the edge of a coin. The prince regent, angered. Nostrils flared. His hands grip your hair tugging you further down his cock, unbothered whether you breathe or not. He uses you like he uses a weapon, flung about without care but precious. You've learnt to relax your mouth, letting drool pool out the sides. Sometimes when you tear up you feel him pulse within you, pressing the salty tears into your face harshly. Staining your cheeks. He tells you to ‘take it’ , take what, exactly? He only pushes your face further into the sheets. You’re half wept by the heat of his cock and the strangle of breaths that arise from your chest as he pistons inside you. He likes it when you whine. Likes it when you moan. Likes the power he holds over your head in the evening. The way his anger tears through your body like a violent sob. Pulling more and more from you every time. He can take it, he can take what he pleases.

And then he's Aemond, soft Aemond, his hands trail against you tentatively, like an instrument, hands running down you to see you hum, watch you sing. Voice like heaven, throat like sex. Brushing loose hairs, kissing sides of mouths. Thumb swiping over tears. His head nestled in the nape of your neck, pressed against your chest. When he comes he only buries himself further into your body like he's trying to part your bones, like he wants to stay there, entombed in muscle and bone. 

And sometimes he's balanced over the edge, smiling softly at you while he drives into you with such force, your hiccuping between sobs, he traces your jaw with kisses “my filthy girl” his girl, His thing. He plays you for a fool, wrapped up in this gilded cage you can barely remember the war cry in your head. 

Get out

You push his hair back from his face, eyepatch off. The sapphire eye glints at you. He hums in delight. Soft Aemond. His free hand runs against your arm. You feel so malleable beneath him. What was it he had said? Like clay, free to mould you however he wanted too. Pliable. My malleable girl. My sweet girl. How long has it been since you paced seven steps back and forth? Since your fingers traced the cracked brickwork. Since you prayed. You don't remember. Why does your back hurt? You hand shifts reaching out to prod the nape of your neck. 

“Please it hurts” You whimper, you’re bare, pressed to the floor, cheek wet. Diritied on the mudded ground. Something slashes you from behind. Once then thrice. “Please stop!” you shout as you turn around. Hands pressed against your face. 

“Are you alright my sweet girl?”a whisper. You hum in return. You stand near the fire, hand on the mantelpiece. Aemond pulls your body into his, he can see it in your eyes now, this emptiness. A hopelessness he brought about. It reminds him of his sister. “How was your day? Did you read?”

Ah yes, reading. Aemond seems to have a library's supply of books. You haven't found yourself in the reading mood lately, you remember your old copy of ‘The loves of Queen Nymira’ hidden away under floorboards from your brother at Harrenhal, how he would ridiculous you over giddy words. Aemond tends to read history and philosophy, you feel you might go mad under the writings of men. It is all war and great kings' deaths, You dare’nt say it. You nod and smile. “Had a bath”  

“Did you eat?” he knows what you're like, you forget. He thinks you're used to hunger now, but he's noticed your face looking brighter recently, finding you grazing on fruits as you keep watch out the window. You nod, smiling up at him. He continues to hold you, his fingers tracing small circles on your arms. He feels his heart flutter. The room has darkened now, and the glow of the fire encumbers both of you. Painting shadows across the walls. He pours a chalice of wine, sweet and sickly. It makes you feel all giggly inside. You wonder if you’ll ever slip past the gates of the RedKeep again. 

Get out.

His hand slides around your waist keeping his grip on you close, you lean into his body, sipping at the wine. It's spiced, different from how you remember. “Is this new?”

“Imported from Dorne” his hand slides higher up your back until he brushes your hair off your shoulder, moments like this that make you never want to leave. Your head leans back and he sticks his nose in the nape of your neck, breathing in the smell of roses, it reminds him of those sugar coated sweets from sunspear, Lokum. He kisses you softly, placing his cup on the small table before throwing himself back into the comfort of your skin. Soft Aemond. Your sweet Aemond. 

You sigh into his touch, finger pads running down your neck, tracing the bones. Your own hand grips his shoulder and you feel yourself fall into his embrace, neck falling, back arching as he pulls your waist into his own. He watches you melt into his arms. Lips brushing against your sweet soft skin. “You taste so sweet” he hums against your skin. Fingers planted against your throat loosely. 

You smile, his lips making his way slowly down your throat, licking and sucking, they find themselves at the hem of your dress, he knees before you, running his hands down your sides planting his face in your stomach. Tucking you tighter into his grip. You stumble slightly, hands smoothing hair away from his face and you unbuckle his eyepatch. You let it fall to the floor. You don't know why he keeps it covered, not really, part of you thinks it beautiful. Your hand reaches out, tracing the line that runs through his brow. Sometimes he flinches away in panic, other times he holds your hand to it. It hurts sometimes, he says. Phantom pain. As if his eye was being slashed through all over again. 

You understand, sometimes your back aches like it's raw. The maester had said the scars were at least a month old when he found them. They bled when you stretched. Milk of the Poppy had only let you succumb to sleep easier. It did nothing for the panic in your head. 

His eye closes and he rises slowly, standing taller before you. His hands reach out and touch you as if you’re made of silk, and he pulls your face in closer, his lip brush against yours  Teasingly, you approach and he only smirks in return, pulling away. He does this until you're whining, smothering you in kisses as quick apologies. gorging himself on your lips. 

“You're always so needy for me” 

Your head nods in tandem with his words, Needy that's what he calls it. Deny it all you want the heat of your arousal pools anyway. You remember those nights you spent with your hands pressed into yourself, cheek still flushed from his touch, It had burnt into you like hot iron had seared your flesh, half expecting it to scar. He's touched you all over now, every inch claimed by touch, lips, eyes. 

You wonder if you have the same impression, if during those nights he had spent at the whore house while you were held in the depths of darkness. That he drank in the skin of another woman and thought of you. That if she had given him the right look he could see you lying underneath him. You wonder if this is what he wanted. The undeniable way you crave his touch even at your worst. A saviour and a captor. How easy is it to save someone from the very thing you had put them in? 

He drinks you in, hurried out of clothes you had pressed to your body in the mirror mere hours ago. Hands under your shift, and then you're both naked, a tangled set of limbs as he hums at the sight of your body. It’s as if he hasn't seen it before, you watch his eye flicker with adoration and then ownership. Emotions plummeting through him like a quick wave of danger. You await from them to be dashed on the ground. Wait for the hardship. Wasn't that what Grand-Uncle had said? Wait for the hardship and let it pass? Did he ever fight for anything? 

You're pulled to bed, lips pressed to yours, Dizzy with spit. Sweet ambrosia. Your body is pulled towards his groin. He's hard, hand stroking down the length of himself, your hand traces at his jaw, sitting up on an elbow. You watch his face as he pushes into you, eye blissed out. It's as if he's found god between your legs, or in your sweat when he's pressed against you, breathing in your scent, A heavenly sight to behold. You feel so full, the pad of his thumb runs along the expanse of your cheek as he finds rhythm. Lips parting, silent moans, strangled breaths. Hair brushed out of your face. Blown pupils. 

“Sweet, sweet thing.”

He’s faster, slapping fills the air and you close your eyes as he hits that sweet spot inside of you, your hands find his shoulders smoothing the skin over as you find yourself closer to relief. The sound of cracking slides through the air, you swallow. Your neck curls in protest, hands gripping at the air, tighter and tighter until you feel something wet. Hand clasping round your wrist. You're back there all over again. Eyes closed tighter, you cry out. The lashing continues. Head thumping against something hard. Someones too close to you, too close to your back. Too close to your skin, sweat, alcohol and damp stone encumbers your body. The scent is heavy in the air. Your eyebrows furrow. Teeth gritting.

“Look at me” 

You shake your head, your eyes only shut tighter. Body sweating, you feel beads of blood rolling down your back. You’re turned. Back pressed into the dirt, eyes shut. Someone closes around you, your legs kick upwards but they are flung to the side and with no warning something enters you. You wail at the intrusion. White hot heat enters you. Your hand swings out in a fist.

“Stop!” you breath out dryly, heavy wails following you. Eyes opening, white hair brushing over you. Mouth opened in a dry scream. Your hand hits his shoulder again. “Please, please stop.” You hyperventilate, heavy laboured breaths, hand against your chest as Aemond comes to a stop, you don't look at him as tears well in your eyes.

“Look at me, please look at me” he grabs at your face, but you dig your head into the nape of his neck and breathe him in as he closes in on you. Sandalwood, books and dragonfire. You're okay. You're fine. You're in Aemond’s bed, in his arms. You soften. “I just want to know who hurt you.” he whispers.

You sigh, jaw moving from side to side.“It's just all fuzzy”, you slump, you can feel the weight of your tongue in your mouth, your head dives into the pillow. He pulls out from you and rolls onto your side. Hand reaching for your face, you turn to look at him. 

“I’d kill for you, you know that?” 

You nod, chewing on your lips, eyes fluttering shut as they try to keep the tears at bay. He pulls you closer to him, your head rests on his chest. You play with his hair, looking up at him, he smirks under you, you know he wants more. His thumb plays with your lip. Smearing spit all over it, You're on the fence with this. Make him mad or make yourself crazy. You decide on the latter. What another push forward to the top?

‘You're involved with the wrong prince miss’

Your body turns facing the bookcase, you take his hand and push it against your chest as an invitation. You feel his lips on your shoulder immediately and then he pushes back into you from behind, your hand rests on his hip. You whimper. He’s softer this time, hips rocking slower and more calculated. You try not to cry, but your face wettens anyway. “Fuck, my sweet girl” he pulls at your chin to kiss you. Eyes running over the wetness of face. You fake a moan as his hand dips down to your wetness. He swallows it between his teeth and smiles at you. Lips curling up. Kissing at your cheeks. “Why are you crying?” he grunts. Hand stroking at your slick pearl.

“Too good aem”,you whine against his hand, cheeks flushed. Your hand digs into his hip as he hits all the tight spots inside of you, turning your brain to mush. “So good,” you repeat, your head turns, back arching, your hands take his own, running them down the valley of your breasts, you let him grope, fingers digging into your flesh. You stare at the bookcase and imagine it setting on fire. He tucks his head into your neck when he comes, he's gonna break his nose one day. You're so sure of it. 

“So good, so good fo’me”, he wipes you with a clothe and then tucks his face right into your chest, falling asleep, hes curled up like a child. You thank the seven he wasn't angry. You thank the seven you get to see the sun. You thank the seven for…

Get out now

The words whisper in your head, but you fall asleep , hair around you like a halo. What's one more day? The glass hasn't even cracked yet.

Aemonds back turns, he reaches out hand grabbing for your own to pull towards his body, Comfort that's what he was begging for, his hands thumbles around on the sheets, emptiness. His eye opens and he turns in the darkness of the room, rain beating down on the stained windows. The white sheets lay crumbled where you had slept, your shift gone from the floor. Where he had seen it land after your night together. 

His eye searching the darkness of the room, for a figure in the night. Thunder cracks and more rain sprays against the window.lightning striking outside, the room lights up quickly. Empty. You hadn't? Had you? He was so sure you wouldn't run from him, he pulls himself from the sheets, dressing quickly. He hesitates at the eyepatch,but  he shoves it over his empty eye socket. He looks at his sheath, dagger gone. His heart thumps. Have you done something stupid? Has he fucked you up that bad? He heads out of  his chambers, the knight is gone.

 The castle is big. But you barely know your way around anyway, he's not expecting you to have gone far, the sheets were still warm when you left. There's only two options, the gardens or the throne room, both of which you have frequented many times. He makes haste, walking quickly down corridors and the flight of stairs, nodding to guards who have stood by their posts. He looks down the corridor, the throne room door wide open. He steps in slowly, eyes locking onto your form. You hum to yourself. Head rolling slightly back and forth.

You're glowing under the moonlight, white shift billowing in the air, dark hair dancing across your back. You begin your ascent up the steps slowly, bare feet dancing across the iron steps. He sees the dagger in your hand behind your back but remains confused. You clench it in your grip, When you finally get to the throne. His eyebrows furrow. You don't sit, instead your hand reaches out, appearing to stroke something. He hears a soft whisper, head bobbing down for a second, you pull your arm away. Head tilting to the side. And suddenly the hand with the dagger flings out, Hilt level with your neck. You hand snaps, arm making a cutting motion.Aemond walks up to you slowly, Footsteps clicking on the castle floor. But you remain staring at the throne. Then he hears it, thick sobs as you sway, He feels himself crack under the noise. You stifle a scream, hair brushing against your shoulder.

Your eyes are empty as your head turns, looking past him, dropping the dagger onto the floor in your outstretched hand, you scrunch up into a ball on the steps, weeping into your hands, “Im so sorry, Im sorry Aemond” 

“Sorry for what” he hushes, he climbs the steps cautiously. Hands reaching out to grab at your arms, they are cut all over, as if someone had put up a struggle. What have you done? Your fingers flex. 

“I killed him, I killed him” you whimper against your palms, rocking back and forth. He tries to pull you away but you are relentless in your efforts, keeping your limbs closer to your body, like you've nailed them into yourself.

“Killed who?” he questions, his hands brush against your soft hair.

You sniff, head snapping back, you look him in the eye,“Aemond” you smile, eyes softening. Your hands run down your hair and you stand. Stepping down the forged steps, hands brushing your shift. You begin to walk back to his champers as if nothing had happened. He picks his dagger up avoiding the swords that shoot out of the ground. Watching you, as it was merely all a dream. He follows you back, moving in calculated steps. Eyes staring straight ahead even in his efforts to get your attention. 

Then you slip back into bed, eyes closing as they pull the covers back up to your neck. You hum. There's a beat as you shift under the covers, hand smoothing. Searching. He watches your eyes snap open and your hand digs round for something under the covers, you sit up and look at him.

 “Why are you dressed?” you clench your teeth. Looking down at yourself, you notice the shift, and then the marks all over your arms, you panic. Hands clutching at your body, Chest rising. You look at Aemond, his dagger in his hand. “What have you done?” you lip trembles. Aemond approaches, you flinch back. 

“Please Aemond, I'm sorry, I haven't done anything, I swear’ you hiss at him as he approaches. Head shaking, He drops the knife quickly and it clangs against the floor. Hand reaching out to your leg. He watches your hands come up to cover your face, blood running down your arms. You cry against them, “I don't wanna go back”, it almost breaks his heart. 

“Shh, it's okay” He smooths his hands over your legs, and then he stands heading for the door to call for something, he keeps his distance as he waits.

[sapphic-supernova6]

hola queers~

welcome to the horny side of tumblr (or at least my horny sideblog)

I'm Mal, 25, femme from the UK

curvy, femme for all

claimed by my gorgeous girl @sapphicd0ve 💜

switch💋

I do tend to lean more towards femmes however

this is a transfriendly horny sideblog!! trans women ily!!!

terfs and homophobes/racists can fuck off.

this is a SAPPHIC blog, so men and minors, and ageless accounts DNI or you will be blocked.

accepting flirty asks, but nothing more 🫶🏽

my kinks will be under the cut🔞

CONSENT IS KEY. if I do not want to interact with you or I am not vibing I will simply just not respond. don't get shitty about it or you'll be blocked.

my kinks:

-praise (g/r)

-dildos/vibrators/strap (g/r)

-light biting/spanking (g/r)

-dirty talk (g/r)

-moaning audios (g/r)

-light degradation (g/r)

-breeding (r/g)

-overstimulation (g/r)

-guided masterbation (g/r)

-mommy title (g/r)

some kinks I'm willing to try/dabbling in:

🚫HARD NO'S🚫:

questioning ?

anal/scat/piss/age play/food play/feeder/violence/CNC/weapon play/furry/ddlg/rape/incest

i'm still exploring my kinks so if something is unlisted please ask consent first before attempting it💋

[redcoralpot]

Stu!! I love seeing ppl love him. Would I be able to request some roleswap ish au, where reader is a slasher, and stu is the "final girl". He gets caught ofc, and reader unmasks, smut ensues (maybe stu had a crush or smth, maybe dubcon if u accept it).

Unrelated: Loved seeing Matthew lillard as william Afton, he did so good.

Ruined Man - Stu Macher X M!Reader

Summary: Stu Macher was a classic rich boy; arrogant, eccentric, and an asshole. He was known for playing cruel pranks on others, and earlier in the weak, he pranked Sidney by scaring her as the infamous Ghostface Killer. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved a taste of his own medicine. Trick or treat, right?

Warnings: NSFW, non-fatal violence, weapons.

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I don't write anything with SA, CNC, or dub-con; Stu plainly consents to the activities described. He has implied feelings for the Reader, and other implied activities as well... but I'll let you discover that part.

-

-

Crickets chirped in the grass, the crescent moon high in the sky. Finally, the noise from the Macher’s Halloween party had died down, and most people had left already, causing a blanket of peace to float down on the street. Any stragglers were drunkenly slumped against the curb, blacked out or calling for a sober ride. Your mask stuck out from the shadows, exaggerated and white, as you watched the property slowly become empty. Well, empty except for the host, of course. Stu Macher.

You could see him through one of the many windows, lounging on the first floor’s living room couch, still moving. Your fingers fumbled against the phone’s dial– god, how do killers run in this shit– pulling the black fabric further up your arm to position the voice changer closer to your mouth. Now, you patiently waited for the other man to pick up, seeing him jolt out of his position. Stu rubbed his eyes, and stumbled to the kitchen.

“Yo?”

Your lips curled into a nasty sneer, “Do you like scary movies, Stu?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Don’t make me choose, you know I’ve watched too many good ones!”

…

Huh? There was no way he knew your identity already. You’ll give him credit, he’s smart, but most definitely not that smart. Stu always visits the rental store Randy works at, and he always rented horror movies with Sidney’s boyfriend, Billy Loomis; that much you knew. He could not have seen you through the window before he ran into the kitchen, and even if he managed to, your mask was still securely strapped on.

“You still there? I haven’t dropped off Hellraiser yet, you could've just asked if you wanna watch it again.”

You hung up, breath quickening. Stu wasn’t scared, even though you were using the same voice changer as the loose, prank-calling murderer running around the streets of Woodsboro. You dumped the phone on the ground, hidden behind a bush. If he wasn’t scared by a little sound-a-like, that was fine, you came prepared. Stu’s garage door had been left open, and you jogged over. Frankly, it didn’t matter how much the rich boy had it coming, you were never doing this again. The costume’s long fringes caught on your feet, almost causing you to trip as you avoided the windows; less silent than you had hoped. Your shoes shuffled against the concrete, and you jiggled the handle of the only door, praying it would open. It creaked as you slipped inside, your shoes surely creasing when you tiptoed into the living room. From behind the couch, you could see that Stu was still in his kitchen, but he was looking around.

He grinned, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Nobody else’s here, Billy. You don’t gotta sneak into my house, you know that!”

 Sighing, you watch him leave the room to wander about the hallways, stopping by the door you had snuck through– and forgot to close. He squinted, looking at the mistake, and back at the living room. Your cheeks burned, adrenaline starting to pump in your veins as he took a few steps closer. 

“C’mon, you wanna have a movie marathon? It’s kinda late for that, but whatever. I have plenty of snacks left from the party, and a whole lot more puke!”

Stu turned away at the last second, choosing instead to sprint down into the bathroom. You could hear a muffled, “Gotcha… nope,” over rustling cloth as you crawled on your hands and knees into the kitchen. The freezing tile shocked any distraction from your system, and you stood up, settling into the darkest part of the kitchen. One of your hands held a dull knife, while the other held the little voice changer machine. However, your position left you without visuals on your victim. You were tempted to pull down your hood, but that would be too reckless, especially since he seemed to think you were his dearest friend. Oh, man, he didn’t know what was coming. 

“Y’know I love pranks, man, but time’s up,” He probed, leaning on the marbled island, just out of reach.

Stu visibly flinched as he turned around and found you staring at him, the mask’s empty eyes giving nothing away. It took him but a second to recover, yet, and a smile accompanied his wild eyes, “Billy!”

You tilted your head, slowly raising your left hand, “Incorrect.”

He didn’t have time to respond; you lunged. You gripped his collar in a fist and slammed him into the countertop– he winced. Stu tried pushing you back, but it was in vain, your knife already threatening to pierce his throat.

Your full weight was on the man, and he raised his hands in defeat. Stu’s chest rose and fell in hefty patterns; you snickered at his obedience. His head slumped back as you released his shirt, in favor of wrenching your mask off to face him.

“Surprise, Macher.”

Stu chuckled, chewing on his bottom lip, “Didn’t know you were in on it too.”

“In on what– aren’t you scared?” You growled, pressing the knife into the flesh of his neck, but not enough to draw blood.

“Dunno,” his back arched, causing a drop of blood to drip down his shirt, “I think you could’ve done better!”

You flipped him over, slicing a fringe off of your costume to tie his hands with. Your hips were in between his thighs, leaving him trapped, and the robe itself fell on the floor beside its mask. Stu giggled, hoisting up his torso with his elbows.

“It’s payback; you could use some.”

He winced as you pulled his hair, “Hngh, it was Billy’s idea.”

“Don’t act innocent.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it, tough guy?”

You rasped, moving to step back, “Nothing you don’t want; I think the prank’s done enough.”

Stu seemed to freeze, albeit briefly, but he wrapped his ankles around your hips– preventing you from running. Your hands brushed against them, tense, as his shoulders shook.

“I wanna.” A smile laced his tone.

“You sure?”

“I’m pose-itive,” he joked, “get it?”

You wrenched his mouth open, pressing down on his tongue with your thumb, “Shut it.”

He nodded, trying his best to close his lips around your finger. Your other hand trailed down his side, taking its sweet time, before landing on his waist. Saliva still connected your fingers to his mouth as you removed them, all in favor of lifting his hips. Underneath, you unzipped his jeans, taking extra care to avoid giving any friction. When you stepped back to slide them off of Stu, he whined, his hips still chasing your touch. His jeans were thrown aside, and you slid back in your place. You knew he could feel your breath on his neck.

Your crotch ground against his ass, a shiver spreading across his spine. Stu was audibly panting; his head was hanging low and he pushed his hips to meet your thrusts. You hummed, choosing to drag the knife in soft strokes down his back, the cool metal only just piercing his skin. Red oozed in thick droplets out of the wounds, some getting big enough to trickle down his back. The pain seemed to follow it down, as Stu made quite the pathetic noise. 

“We’ve barely even gotten started, Macher, and you’re this desperate already?” You teased.

“Mm, show me what ‘cha got!”

You chuckle and suck a bruise onto the back of his neck. From that position, you could hear a groan rumble in his throat, but it wasn’t strong enough to escape. Hm, you could change that. You sunk the edge of your teeth into a different spot, holding on for a second before soothing the bite with your tongue. If the bruise didn’t make what happened obvious, well, this would. Stu would just have to deal with it. Though, you doubt he’d mind.

The knife clattered onto the marble counter after you dropped it, Stu’s thighs twitching, “Where’s the lube?”

Stu didn’t answer, but only whined.

“Use your words, pretty boy.”

His voice shook, trying to form words past used lips, “Bathroom.”

“Louder, I didn’t hear you the first time.”

Stu wiggled against your weight, “C’mon, man– f-fuck, it’s in the bathroom, please!”

You tutted, a cruel grin on your face, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You didn’t need directions, and as soon as you were out of his view, you practically ran there. Hell, you weren’t gonna miss out on this chance, were you? Stu, the eccentric boy that played downright evil pranks on anybody that breathed around him, reduced to a perverted degenerate. Perhaps he was already like that, and you wouldn’t be surprised. 

The lube was in a small, portable bottle that was half empty when you found it. Back in the kitchen, you poured the majority of what was left in your palm and fingers. Using just two, for the moment, you spread it over his hole; a finger may have dipped in every once and a while, in the process. 

“I wanna, I wanna do it already,” Stu shuddered, his fidgeting acting up again.

A finger eased its way inside, a little too easily, much to your surprise, “Not yet.”

“I really wanna.” Another, just as simply.

“That’s too bad;” you mused, “have you been fingering yourself?”

He bit down on his bottom lip, the taste of iron filling his mouth, “Uhuh, uhuh.”

“To what?”

“Y-you, and me.” 

You spread the final bit over your dick, before pressing your hand into the sides of his neck, “You little pervert. Bet you loved getting a glimpse of me in the locker room, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, yes– oh, shit.” Stu’s little tangent was interrupted by you slamming inside; the sting melted in with pleasure as you brushed his prostate.

Only for a moment did you stop to let him adjust, before pulling out and thrusting again. You found a rhythm, and the counter rubbed against his cock as you continued, smearing precum over the wood. His hands, still bound, scrabbled for anything to hold onto, but in vain. His nails just slid off of the smooth stone, his drool making it even slippier. Stu squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a knot grow in his gut. 

He clenched around you, causing you to grunt, “‘M gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please… ah!”

“We’re not done yet,” you hissed, firmly slapping his thigh.

“I can’t hold it, man, I really can’t,” he sobbed out, eyelashes wet from unreleased tears.

A sharp pain on his shoulder burned through any restraint the guy had, the knot unraveling as quickly as it had formed. Stu thrashed, the fringe snapping, and his vision whited out. His brain was all fuzzy; the only thing he could focus on was gripping the edge of the counter. Stu’s face was smushed against the counter, crimson mixing with the white surface. He shivered, eyes heavy, feeling a little floaty when a thick liquid dripped down his thighs. You pulled out of him, rubbing his waist as you did so.

“Good job, Macher. That was one hell of a show you put on, ” you sighed.

“Hhn.”

His body was limp as you turned him over, using the oven towel to start to clean him up, “How’re you feeling?”

Stu finally opened his eyes, using all of his strength to grin up at you, “Dude… that was like, awesome.”

“Pfft, you sound out of it.”

“Eh, what makes you say that? I want a big glass of water!”

You cackled, leaving his side to shuffle through a cabinet full of fancy cups, finally choosing a sturdy looking mug. He grabbed it as soon as it was in arms reach, taking huge gulps from it, like he had been starved. Or, more so dying of thirst. 

When he finished, you softly said, “Do you need help getting into bed?”

Stu shrugged, so you took that as a yes. You heaved him over your shoulder, supporting him up the stairs as he giggled the whole way. As you tucked him in, you swore you could hear something from down in the kitchen.

A phone’s ring.

-

Taglist: @jaspeywasy89 , @cannabrisano , @fandomz-brainrot

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[dollsdesires]

Odly enough I'd love to see you in my...

I mean someone's trunk.

This is a (potential) piece of one of my biggest fantasies. I’d love to find myself bound in someone’s trunk 🙈🥵😮‍💨