#does this need a tw/cw? idk

[newrochellechallenger2019]

spitroasting with art and patrick...

drunkenly stumbling into their hotel room after a night of celebrating a tennis win. kissing patrick hungrily while art unzips your dress. the three of you tumbling onto the pushed together single beds. patrick unzips his trousers, pulling out his half hard dick and slapping it across your cheeks before pushing it into your desperate mouth, so sudden you almost gag on it and he groans in delight. art's spreading your legs open, sliding two fingers into your dripping cunt, pressing them to the hilt, prepping you for his own cock. 'yeah- fucking take it-' moans patrick, your cheeks hollow and your drool coating his dick as you suck it fervently. art's fingering you faster now, hitting the spot inside you that makes your vision go white, and suddenly you're squirting on his fingers, coating them in your juices. 'good girl', the praise falls all too easily from art's mouth as he uses your squirt to lube up his dick, erection prominent from just the sight of patrick's cock filling your mouth. art's pushing into you before you even realise, his balls slapping against your ass as he bottoms out in you. 'so fucking tight' they moan in unison, you've never felt so full. your eyes glaze over as your fucked relentlessly by them both, going dumb from overstimulation. it isn't long before patrick's movements in your mouth are becoming more jerky and you feel his hot white sperm coat your throat as he lets out a shuddering moan, 'yes- yes- yes-' and you nod along dumbly, tongue swirling his tip to make sure you coax every last drop out of him before he pulls out. you swallow patrick's seed and that action alone causes you to clench around art's cock, whimpering as a second orgasm washes over you, 'yeah that's it-' art grunts, 'dumb on our cocks, want my cum too? want to be filled up?' and you nod, hardly able to form words as your juices soak the bed. art grunts, bottoming out in your for the last time as he shakes, spurting seed into your pussy and you let out a burbled moan at the feeling, art pulling out of you gently. 'good girl' they croon all evening as the two of them clean you up.

[koszmarnybudyn]

So this song fits them so very well right?

[theythemmer]

who up thinking abt the implications of dnp being controlled by and sacrificing themselves for demons

[dr-jingles]

I gotta know (if you want to answer, that is): How was Huche immediately after the break up?

Not very well! Emotions play a heavy role in the stability of Obectum cores, and with the break up being as sudden and abrupt as it was (Cen and Huche had been together for 12 years up till that point) it was a, uh, lot for him. Funny enough I've actually been working on a little comic for it here and there for fun so here's a little preview WIP!

[cupofdirtandworms]

Yalls I just need to report that we were drawing a Four and X / ENA thing (cuz we love Dream BBQ and we're autism) and someone said "that's me btw" and now we have THIS THING

WHO THE HELL ARE YOU- /lh

[flurry-bace]

HELLO??? WHY THE HELL DO MY NEIGHBOURS HAVE THIS??? I WAS JUST?? WALKING BY AND????

[newrochellechallenger2019]

thinking about art dropping hints that he wants to be in puppyspace...

it starts off tame, he sits by the door like an obedient dog and greets you when you come home from work and eventually you start patting him on the head as a greeting and it drives him crazy.

when you cook and hand him his plate, he more and more frequently starts putting his plate on the floor, dropping to his knees, his eyes trained on you the whole time, the picture of a submissive puppy and eats like one too, nose buried in the food and licking his lips exaggeratedly too.

he follows you constantly, even sneaking into the bathroom beside you and getting in your way when you work in the study, sitting at your feet and jumping at you.

he starts crawling into your lap when the two of you watch a movie, burying his head into the crook of your neck and you're sure you can hear faint whimpers and whines in your ear and sometimes when you rubbed his belly, he'd start to get turned on and you can feel his erection pressing into your waist.

the other night he'd brought a teddy bear into bed with the two of you, holding it in his mouth and gnawing it till he fell asleep, you could only assume this was one of the many packages that had arrived at your door recently.

things came to a head when you'd come into the house to find art sat waiting for you, as usual, but this time he was wearing a collar, had 'paw' mitts on, a leash between his teeth and only dressed in his boxers.

you still, blinking rapidly, 'art i- i called you pup once offhandedly-', watching as art blushes furiously, 'i mean- are you sure?' you continue, softening as you see the earnest expression on his face.

art nods rapidly, crawling over to you and rubbing against your legs, before pausing and dropping the leash at your feet and panting, tongue lolling as he looks at you pleadingly.

you sigh, bending down and clipping the leash to the collar, and your fingers brush over the dog tag attached to his collar, 'mommy's boy' and your breath grows short.

as soon as you give into him, his brain goes fuzzy and he can feel himself slipping. he starts to whine insistantly, tugging at the leash and you find it all too easy to give him a sharp reprimand and he halts, looking up at you in total submission.

the words 'good boy' slip from your tongue and art practically melts, eager for praise from you. you begin to lead him to the bedroom and art perks up, trotting after you obediently.

you tie his leash to the bedpost as you turn to grab the toybox out the dresser and he just sits beside the bed. you turn to look back at him and he looks up at you expectantly. he's waiting for permission.

you shrug, patting the bed 'hup hup' and he complies immediately, hopping onto the bed and sitting pretty just like a dog again, staring at you.

you undress and his eyes widen, his mouth practically drooling just at the sight of your body. you attach the strap on to your hips and move to kneel on the bed.

art whimpers and immediately gets into position, the tied leash making it a little difficult but he's on all fours, ass presented to you, just how you like him and you can see his erection straining against his boxers.

you run your hands along his clothed ass and he whimpers, 'r-rip them...mommy...please' he croaks, voice breathy. you raise your eyebrows at 'mommy' but are quick to obey his request, digging your nails in and tearing his boxers off, leaving him bare and submissive.

you nudge his thighs further open, revealing his waiting hole. you spread some lube on your finger and push it in and he whines, squeezing around the digit. 'hungry boy' you cluck and he bucks his hips in response

you add another finger, stretching him out. he whimpers a soft 'mommy' and you grow hot. 'you ready pup?' you breathe and he nods vigorously 'please- fuck me- mommy please- need-' you remove your fingers and push your strap into his wanton hole, his babbles ceasing as you bottom out in him.

'good boy' you praise and he moans loudly, his head dropping down. his hips buck against your strap, the tip bumping his prostate and he almost cums there and then. you notice. 'is that the spot pup?' you coo patronisingly, hitting his prostate again.

he goes dumb, unable to form words and starts to let out a whimper every time you bump his prostate, his mitts gripping the sheets as best as he can and you can see the tip of his penis rutting against the bed, dribbling precum.

you can always tell when art wants to needs to cum, his body starts to tense up as you ram into him repeatedly, and his whimpers and whines will get louder and louder. 'you wanna make cummies for mommy pup? you coo and art nods furiously, whimpering. 'can't hear you' you taunt and to art's surprise, he lets out a bark in response.

you still, bottoming out in him in shock and that tips him over the edge. he comes with a shudder, coating the sheets in his milk and panting, tongue lolling like a dog.

you pull out of him and he crumples, chest heaving. you rub his back 'you did so good pup, it's okay'. you remove some of the pup gear and he whines weakly but doesn't protest. you soothe him for a little longer till his voice croaks out, 'lud u mommy' and you smile, 'i love you too pup'

[mosspapi]

(I know all of this is technically just game mechanics, but I like to think too deeply abt in-universe explanations for things so let me have my moment lmao)

The lore implications of dead crewmates in Lethal Company being able to contact the autopilot ship is WILD btw. Like. I know technically revival is a thing in-universe bcuz u can respawn, which arguably should be more impressive, but that could pretty easily just be some advanced tech from the future. I can see lots of theoretical scientific/technological explanations for it. What I wanna know is how dead crewmates can contact the ship while dead (PT: while dead).

It's not like their life support going offline immediately notifies the ship, bcuz it doesn't happen automatically. You have to CHOOSE to notify the ship. This implies not only that they have technology that proves the existence of an afterlife and can detect or contact spirits/ghosts/souls/whatever, but also that said entities can reach out first. My initial thought was that it's smth on the other crewmates suits, since you don't have to be near the ship to vote but you always need to be spectating a living crewmate, so they aren't making direct communication with the ship itself. Maybe something like a spirit-box on the other crewmates' suits that the ghosts can interact with, which will send a signal back to the ship. This IS an option. However it would have to be smth that wouldn't get interference from other sources, and I also don't think that flickering thru radio stations is what's happening in outer space on abandoned moons, some of which don't even have telephone lines. Could be some futuristic "radio stations" that aren't actually using our current understanding of how those work, but that still wouldn't account for interference imo. Which leads me to my next thought, which is that it's something directly on the ghosts that they can use to communicate. I have NO idea how this would work, maybe the life support on the suit leaves like an electromagnetic/spiritual/whatever imprint on the ghost as they leave the body, but I have no idea how that could be used to contact the ship, if for lack of better words, it's just an energetic fingerprint or scar. Maybe if it's causing a different or specific frequency/energy field/etc, the ship could detect that, but how the ghosts would be able to change it themselves in order to tell the ship to leave is beyond me. They'd have to be able to mess with their own electromagnetic signals, which sounds like a recipe for accidentally destroying ur entire consciousness or mutating urself into a new species or smth by mistake.

Side note, it also implies the company trains people on how to use whatever this technology is, which is both hilarious and terrifying. Do they just give u a verbal explanation and hope u figure it out the first time you die? Or do they actually make you practice by repeatedly killing you and having you notify the ship, and therefore there may be ghosts of crewmates who couldn't figure it out or who's technology malfunctioned or something just floating around in space.

There's so much to think abt here I could be here for days. I wanna come up with a feasible explanation. It's fascinating to me. I love it.

[isobug]

I was sent something which was, quiet honestly, a pretty bad faith reading of what I meant when I said "Intersexism within Trans- spaces" and here and I wanted to just slap this note on that I used that language to refer to how, in multiple Trans- focused private communities ( "Trans spaces" meaning mainly Discords and forums if i'm being honest. Though some irl spaces as well but those have been much nicer recently. )

I've had to tell multiple other Trans people that it's just not appropriate to call me a Hermaphrodite or a "Herm" off the bat. Or that it's not appropriate to ask me for pictures of my body or genitalia. Or that it is painful for me when I discuss my medical abuse or trauma to have another Trans person go "but i would just KILL to have your experiences / body though!"

These were Trans spaces ( marketed and labeled as "Trans spaces / Safe Trans Spaces " ) I entered because I am Trans and because I want to talk to other Trans people about being Trans. I want medical advice as well. I cannot discuss my Trans experiences without also discussing my Intersex experiences because I am both and they medically brush up against each other pretty frequently.

I have constantly come up against blatant Intersexism and the fetishization of my body, and while I am so lucky and fortunate to have ( both perisex and intersex ) Trans friends who have stood up for me or helped me work through these feelings, I still feel a sense of alienation and hurt.

That is what I mean by "Trans spaces" and that is what I mean by "intersexism". End of. I have no idea HOW externalizing that experience into a term which I and maybe 5 other people use ( somewhat inconsistently TBH ) has ANYTHING to do with transmedicalists or anyone being white or not ??

( I put "Trans-" with the hyphen because I have experienced this in both Transgender and Transsexual labeled spaces BTW. Maybe the asterisk ( Trans* ) would have been more clear for that but IDK. I've seen both around. These are things that have happened to me regardless of specific labels being used at the time !! )

Anyways please stop sending this post to me. I am tired and it is completely incoherent to the experiences behind this because none of this intersexism came from other intersex people and none of it has to do with anyone being white or not ( ??????? )

But if you couldn't tell from the tone this isn't even about that post fully. This is about intersex people needing to drag out a whole essays about our trauma with multiple explanations of what we exactly mean and who we are exactly talking about so we can go "this was actually traumatic for me, this is a real issue, and no, I don't think intersex people are the source of intersexism, actually".

It's a microlabel at the end of the day. Maybe we would be less of a "little society" on edge if random intersex bloggers didn't have to be playing the defense 24/7 for our trauma. God forbid you just asked me what I meant by "Trans spaces", not like I love to clarify and add long post edits and additions or anything ( <- this is sarcasm. )

Caedulter and Caedipso

( Image 1 ID: A five striped flag, the colors going as follows from top to bottom, purple, yellow, white, yellow, purple. From the left side, there are blocks on each stripe incrementally increasing in length and becoming lighter gray prior to the center stripe, then decreasing in length and becoming darker gray after the center stripe. End ID. )

( Image 2 ID: A mostly purple flag with a yellow circle with a plus inside of it. There are also blocks on the left side of the flag, incrementally increasing in length and becoming lighter gray prior to the circle, and then decreasing in length and becoming darker gray after the circle. End ID. )

Caedulter: An intersex individual who at one point, was Transgender, but due to trauma ( from their own Intersex experiences, Intersexism within Trans- spaces, etc. ) is now Ultergender. May also be spelled Caedoulter.

Caedipso: An intersex individual who at one point, was Cisgender, but due to trauma ( from their own Intersex experiences, Intersexism from Perisex Cisgender individuals, etc. ) is now Ipsogender. May also be spelled Caedoipso.

Any other Intersex people may use these if you feel like you connect with them! Similar to other Caed- / Caedo- terms, you do not need to be specific or open about your trauma at all.

These are terms that are roughly based on the other existing Caed- / Caedo- terms but with slightly modified language. They are based off of my personal experiences ( Caedulter) and one of my friend's ( Caedipso ) so please be respectful.

( Perisex people do not be weird, these aren't for you. )

Taglist - @interarchive, @radiomogai, @revenant-coining

[quantum1mmortality]

i apologize for this.. BUT what about curly sobbing when he's overstimulated during sex because it feels too good.. and he can barely talk, most of the words leaving his mouth too quiet or unintelligible to decipher :3

ʷʰʸ ⁱˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ

Tw/cw; OVERSTIMULATING CURLY!!!, he cries, no specific genitalia mentioned so gn ig????

Not proofread

I feel as though Curly would only get overstimulated if he wasn't topping. Like, in missionary, he knows his own limits because he's so used to the position. That's not at all saying he's bored, he enjoys it a lot, but because it's your default position, he knows when to stop before he gets overstimulated.

The first time you ever overstimulated him was when you were riding him. It was your first time being on top, and yeah, Curly was practically doing all of the work, but that's besides the point.

Anyway, because it was a new position he hadn't tried before, he didn't know his limits just yet. So imagine his surprise when he started to get overstimulated after the first time he came, and you were STILL going, just adding to it.

It was a new experience, a new feeling, he didn't know how to handle it. So what does he do? Cries. He cries. Yeah, I said it, he'd cry when being overstimulated BOOM I JUST DROPPED A BOMB ON YOU GUYS!!!

No but in all seriousness, he would cry. Like I said, it's a new experience for him and he's just not used to it yet, the extreme pleasure he's feeling is catching up to him, badly.

His grip on your waist would loosen and his head would be thrown back, maybe even a little back arching action idk lololollollllol 🤭🤭

You have this man seeing legitimate STARS. He'd try to praise you, tell you how good you're making him feel, but everything coming out of his mouth is either incoherent or whispered.

You can make out some of the words though, but he's just repeating 'i love you' and other random praises and pet names, practically anything that comes to his mind in those moments. But most of the words he's trying to say get drowned out by his loud whimpers and moans.

I really hope you don't need aftercare, because he canNOT feel his legs.

A/N; chat should I start adding memes as dividers again I feel like I lost a lot of whimsy by doing away with them

[kiyo-cant-write]

Same Cinderella-anon, just with more ideas I forgot to add in the first ask! maybe with reader being Trein's grandchild, having to go to NRC because he needs something and asked reader to bring it to him and Silver and reader being surprised at seeing each other again idk. anyways, have a good day and thanks in advance again!

cinderella!reader is trein's grandchild ✧･ﾟ

Summary: The reader is actually Trein's grandchild. They visit NRC campus at their grandfather's instruction and run into Silver again.

TW/CW: This is a continuation of THIS POST, minor B7 spoilers

Notes: The reader is NOT Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, they/them pronouns for the reader, pre-relationship, familial headcanons as well

Guest Stars: Divus Crewel, Sebek Zigvolt

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It would seem Professor Trein needs some help that only his dearest grandchild can assist with. They attend Royal Sword Academy, and Professor Trein, or rather, Grandpa Mozus, would like access to some historical documents from the RSA library.

Can [Name] help him?

Surely they can. They love their grandfather.

And it would mean getting to visit the school across the island again.

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Mozus Trein

Trein is very protective of his grandchild.

If he seems stern in class, it doubles when his grandchild is there.

He has a complex relationship with [Name]'s parents due to the strained relationship he had with his daughter towards her entry into adulthood. They do not hate each other, though.

He loves them, but his love is firm and strict at times.

Gawking at his grandchild earns you detention.

The other staff are all familiar with [Name].

Trein talks about them and how one of the reasons he had looked into teaching at RSA was to be closer to them.

He was worried about them.

They are an innocent spirit who is too trusting, too accepting.

He is strict with them because he thinks they will get hurt.

The outside world is a scary place where grandpa can't protect them from the monsters out there, the bad apples...

When his grandchild visits, which happens sporadically but more often than one might imagine, Crewel is also tasked with looking over them. As per Trein's request (read: instruction).

Trein believes that his grandchild would be less embarrassed if it were not him at every turn checking on them. He trusts Crewel.

Sometimes, Trein thinks about leaving NRC to be with his grandchild, but he always decides to stay for his students.

Trein wishes that [Name] went to NRC, but they aren't the type the Dark Mirror would choose; they are a might magic user with a pure soul, after all. The very image of an RSA student.

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Silver

Silver continued to think about [Name]. Who were they?

A student, but not from NRC. From RSA, then?

Why couldn't he forget them? What was this?

He chooses not to trouble his family with it.

He is nearly an adult; he can figure this out for himself.

That said, he didn't expect them to be related to Professor Trein.

Silver was not aware of the professor's personal life.

Why would he be?

It doesn't change his opinion of [Name] as a friendly person.

But he is more wary now. He has heard that Professor Trein is... protective. And he doesn't blame the professor.

But Silver does not want to bring any trouble to his Master.

Silver wonders if it is worth pursuing such a curiosity.

And then it happens, all because of the narrative.

Silver and [Name] have their SECOND Meet-Cute.

Silver can't say he expected things to turn out like this!

Silver was trying his best to ignore Sebek's words echoing in his head. He should focus instead of daydream about a stranger. Sebek was right about that much, but that didn't mean ignoring every other living person on his island. He was his Master's guard, but he was also a student, and students should engage with the community or something like that.

He sighed softly, and he continued down the hall, making the mistake of not looking ahead of him and crashing into the person ahead of him. While no one was injured, it did leave the load they were carrying scattered across the hallway floor.

"I'm sorry..." Silver said, "Let me help with that."

He reached down to pick up one of the large textbooks from the floor, hand brushing against theirs. Silver looked toward them to see... [Name]? The same person from before? The very person he had been thinking of. Was this some kind of fateful encounter? Others had mentioned these to him... He could think about that later.

"Hello again. I am sorry to... cause this."

He looked almost sheepish as they waved it off, trying to tell him that there wasn't any harm done to them or their books. Regardless, Silver helped them gather the books into their arms again, taking a few to carry himself so that [Name] could see what was ahead of them.

"It's really alright. I couldn't see over the books either."

They look a bit embarrassed.

"[Name]... Why do you have," Silver paused to count them, "...twelve textbooks?"

Their embarrassment grew as an awkward smile graced their lips.

"My Granpa Mozus wanted me to bring these over from Royal Sword," they explained, "So I came here with the Headmage's permission to deliver... all of these."

Though their arms were still filled with books, they managed to make a gesture toward the books Silver carried for them.

He nodded.

"I understand. I will help you take these to your grandfather."

[Name] wondered if Silver was aware of what their grandfather was. If he knew, he certainly didn't act that way. He said nothing. It was almost refreshing to them to not have a grand reaction about it all.

That said, [Name] noted that the louder boy who was with Silver the last time was not here. He seemed as though he might react if [Name] told him their lineage. What was his name again? Sebastian?

They brushed the thought away and continued to walk down the hallway with Silver, headed toward the classroom their grandfather had said was his. He was a history teacher.

Stopping at the door, Silver knocked instead of [Name] simply due to the fact that he could support his stack of books with one arm. This was something that [Name] was trying not to gawk at. This boy sure was strong, then and again, his arms were rather strong-looking.

Did he not say he worked for his "master" the last time?

They were thinking about it again. There wasn't anyone like that at Royal Sword. Sure, some students helped the dorm leaders... But that wasn't... master and servant? Right? [Name] felt their head spin.

A voice came from inside the room, but it was not their grandfather's. It was a masculine one, slightly teasing as if testing them...

"Whatever might you need from us now?"

[Name] recognized it as Divus' voice, the younger man, though he was still older than them, who worked with their grandfather. He was a teacher, too. Alchemy?

Wait.

Were they interrupting something?

"It's [Name]!" they called back to Divus, "Oh, and Silver is helping me."

"Alright then, pups. You may enter~"

[Name] walked into the room as Silver opened the door for them with his free hand. Instantly [Name] was greeted with the classroom their grandfather used, wooden desks, a chalk board, books on a shelf, and her dear grandpa sitting at his own desk front and center.

Divus had stepped back to let them get to the desk.

"Grandpa Mozus!" [Name] called, walking forward to set the books on his desk, "I got all the things you sent for!"

They smiled, an expression that Trein returned.

Silver's face paled slightly at the sudden realization; the boy always was a bit slow on the uptake with human relations that Professor Trein was "Grandpa." But he recovered quickly as he presented the rest of the books to Trein.

"Here you go, sir."

"Ah, the books. Thank you, [Name]," Trein told his beloved grandchild, "And you as well, Silver, for helping them."

[Name] grinned, proud of the fact they had accomplished the task. The look on their face made Silver smile as well. This earned him a sharp glare from Trein, much sharper than his usual expression.

They stared at each other for a moment as [Name] looked between them, unsure if they were supposed to intervene given their grandpa was his teacher... It was well within his jurisdiction.

"I trust you would never do anything untoward to my grandchild, Silver?" Trein asked the light-haired boy.

"Of course not, sir."

Silver shook his head and ignored the chuckle from Professor Crewel.

"That is good to hear."

Trein's expression softened as he turned back to [Name].

"I hope this was not too arduous a task for my youngest?"

"No, this was alright. I hope the books help," [Name] told him, "Thank you for... trusting me."

They smiled yet again, and Trein returned it, just slightly.

Silver felt as though he was intruding on a personal moment. And maybe he was. He had been thinking about [Name], but he couldn't speak about that in front of Professor Trein.... [Name] was heading back to Royal Sword after this... What a mess.

He held back the urge to sigh.

Footsteps could be heard approaching.

Oh no... Silver knew that sound anywhere.

"SILVER!"

He sighed this time, and those in the room turned to look at the doorway. [Name] was startled, whereas the professors just seemed... tired. Perhaps a bit annoyed.

There stood Sebek, out of breath slightly with furrowed brows.

"Hello, Sebek..." Silver attempted to greet but was cut off.

"WHAT HAS YOU SO BUSY? WHAT IF OUR MASTER NEEDS US?"

Silver tried to explain it.

"I was helping... a friend."

Sebek glared at [Name], recognizing them.

"THIS HUMAN AGAIN?"

[Name] flinched at the volume, and Trein decided to step in.

"Sebek Zigvolt, you will not address my grandchild that way."

Sebel was startled at the address from his professor.

"Ah, my... my apologies, professor," Sebek stammered.

There really is never a peaceful day at Night Raven College.

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Imagine the rest yourself~

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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[kurokawaia]

THERE GOES MY BABY~ 彡 Feitan Portor

WC; 500+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW : x fem!reader

REQUEST :: HIIIII! I was wondering if you could write a Feitan x reader where every time he leaves for to long to do a mission or something she becomes that usher meme where he’s sliding in the floor with the song there goes my baby it doesn’t have to be long or anything I just want something funny I really like your work I hope you have a good day (btw idk if a specified it a lot but if you could can you make the reader fem) ❤️- ANON

m.list | hxh m.list

Every time Feitan leaves on a mission, you tell yourself, "This time, I am going to be normal." And every time, without failure, you manage to prove yourself completely wrong. You have always greeted him with the same gesture ever since you saw that one Usher clip. You have decided to do this for a while now; this is your first shot.

Feitan has been gone for a couple of days and he should be back soon, today hopefully. YOu'll be able to detect his presence before he enters your shared apartment. One of your favourite things about you and Feitan's relationship is that you're the sunshine and he's the big grump, and he also doesn't know what you're going to do next.

You go crazy when Fei isn't home for too long, you need him in more ways than one, in bed and just for the daily comforts, and you love snuggling up to him (he says he hates it but he's effectively lying). 

There goes my baby You don't know how, good, it Feels to call you my girl

You're on the verge of slamming your head onto the coffee table, you so desperately wanted the song out of your head but you only. And you wouldn't, not until you get to slide on the floor to your man. 

Go ahead and play the tune in your head; it's always that song. "There goes my baby… Oooooh, girl, look at you…" You sing out as you fall to your knees, sliding on the waxed floor like some movie star in a music video, arms outstretched as you could feel seitan playing and unlocking the lock at the door.  And then on cue, the door opens. Feitan stands there, wrapped in his dark cloak, one eyebrow arched higher than it has ever been. For a moment, he's silent, his brain processing the utter sight of it all, his hard assassin's mind almost short-circuiting at the absurdity. "You.... are... so... strange," he finally mutters, his lips twitching as if in a fight against a smirk. You freeze, looking up from his torso, your eyes meeting with his own, your chin placed up against his cloak, a smile wide on your lips. Your cheeks are flushed pink. God, you missed him so much. 

"Took you long enough to realise, Fei," you tease while hugging him tighter.

He shakes his head, "I always known," he scoffs, "You make it obvious now."

Your jaw drops agasint him as you loosen your hold around his torso. "You love me!" you pout.\

"That I do," he says quietly with a sigh because he knows that no matter how odd you are he won't ever leave you because he does love you 🥺

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[forest-hashira]

cw: mentions of abuse, implied sa, blood, character death.

being in an arranged marriage with naoya. you're young when it happens, much younger than him, and at first you're too meek, too afraid to say anything, to argue with your parents. you convince yourself it won't be so bad, because how else will you survive it?

it's horrible, obviously. you have very little cursed energy, and no technique of your own. that, on top of being a woman, makes you subhuman in your husband's eyes. in the eyes of practically his entire family, in fact. he treats you terribly from the very beginning, and it only gets worse over the years when you continuously fail to give him any children - what use is a woman who can't even produce an heir?

his abuse isn't limited to his open hand striking your face, and he never holds back. he could not care less if the evidence of the abuse he inflicts upon you is written plain as day across your skin. what would anyone ever say to him about it, anyways? no one would ever dare to step in and attempt to stop his violence.

even through the pain he causes - mental, physical, and emotional alike - you are expected to attend to him every waking moment. you should be able to intuit what he wants or needs even before he does, and provide it before he has to demand it of you. rebelling against him is pointless, you know this from experience. if he decides he wants something, nothing will stop him, least of all you. it doesn't matter if that something is your body.

you put up with this for years, though time becomes a bit fuzzy, a bit unclear, with only the seasons and your husband's birthday to mark the passage of time. you become numb to his abuses, pliant to his will at every turn; it's easier that way, and generally incurs less pain.

then something in you snaps one day. you're not entirely certain what brings it about, but it feels out of your control. he starts to drag you to bed with him, just as he does every night, and instead of allowing yourself to be violated again, an almost animal rage takes over you.

what happens after is a blur, the details lost in the frenzy of your altercation, but the end result could not be any clearer to you: your husband, heir to the zenin clan, lies dead on your marriage bed, and you are covered in his blood, your body practically vibrating with cursed energy.

you should probably be scared when you hear the sound of footsteps racing to your bedroom, but you don't. for the first time since your wedding, you feel alive.

labour by paris paloma making me a little insane rn

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Benevolent Hand

Khonshu x Fem!Moon Knight!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, masturbation (Fem), fingering, dirty talking, degradation(?), Khonshu wants to actually fuck you but won't admit it because he's a prideful shithead

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: did I stay up until ten last 4am to spit this shit out? Enjoy whatever horny poetry my sleep deprived brain supplies you. Be free, my horny little doves *yeets y'all into a field*

Also idk why but this gif does things to me

🌑🌑���🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑

It was a dull, dead night. There were no evildoers to stop, no killers to send to the sands of the Duat.

Even Badr told you to go home and rest, you deserved it after your diligent work and devotion to your god.

But, of course... "settling in" for the night wasn't something you know how to do anymore.

You've been Moon Knight for so long you weren't even sure what normal people did during quiet nights at home, anymore.

You ate, showered, exercised in the cramped space of your seedy apartment, before sitting on the couch to idly flip through channels, clicking your tongue and reminding yourself to sign up for some streaming services or pirate some stuff at the local library.

You were so bored you settled on an old corny horror film from the 80s, R-Rated and strangely enough, uncensored. But then again, adult channels were still a thing apparently, so you settled in for some cheap blood and guts, stupid busty camp counselors and a masked killer.

But of course, the sex scenes were there, as well. It didn't show anything like porn would, but the actors did a good job of "having" sex beneath the covers, their bodies flushed and sweaty as they went at it like rabbits, panting and saying things to each other in shared breaths.

They were gonna die, that's how these things went. You have sex in a horror movie, you die. The psychos from Scream got that part right about the ole cliché.

But... The way they acted with each other, playing out the part of a couple very much in love and very horny had you... bothered.

You craved that kind of intimacy. Sure, you can go out and find someone to hook up with, have a forgettable one night stand with some idiot at a bar... but it didn't have the physical closeness that was acted out on the cheap flat screen in front of you.

Being a Fist of Khonshu was often lonely life. You couldn't engage in the seeming frivolity of a relationship that was seen every day you walked down the street. No bed warmed by another body, no good morning kisses, no... love?

You shoved those melancholy feelings aside for now, deciding to focus on the throbbing heat blossoming between your legs.

You bit your lip and slid your hand down your front, slipping it beneath the waistband of your pajamas and beneath your underwear, touching the slick wetness that began to coat and soak through the fabric covering you as the movie droned on.

Your fingers slowly started circling your clit as you breathed out a hot puff of air, eyes closing momentarily as you imagined it.

You, with a man who was head over heels with you, tangled up in the sheets.

Sweaty, groping hands pawing at slick skin, tongues dancing as you kissed like you were all the two of you needed to breathe--

Your fingers began to increase their movements, gathering your sweet juices on your fingers to lubricate your clit as you circled with more need.

You dropped your head onto the back of your couch with a pathetic groan, eyes closing as you let the mental image take a better shape, using the sounds from the TV to help mold the scene for you and your faceless, imaginary lover.

You grunted and kicked off your bottoms and underwear, discarding them on the floor as you spread your legs, one foot resting on the cushion to allow better access as your other hand groped at your breast over the fabric of your threadbare tank top.

"Fuck." You cursed aloud to yourself, falling back into your fantasy as your fingers played with your wet, puffed folds.

Your lover would slowly slink down your body, his lips and tongue pressing on your skin until his mouth reached your hip bones.

He would kiss your clit before licking up your slit, his tongue teasing your entrance, tracing it before he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves at the top.

You let out a heady moan, your toes curling as you held back the urge to plunge your fingers inside of you; for now settling on focusing your attention on your twitching clit.

You roll your hips in time with your hand, sliding your hand beneath your top to squeeze your breasts and roll your nipple between your fingertips.

Your lover would lick, kiss, nip, and tease you. He would rut his nose against your clit as his tongue--

Your mental fantasy bubble popped when you felt a very large, very warm, and very real hand slide down your torso, leaving a blazing trail beneath your skin in its wake.

"I sometimes forget how often mortals have these urges." The deep, raspy voice that the hand belonged to sighed out, his tone dripping with... disappointment? Boredom?

You snatch your hand away from your core and instinctively try to close your legs, to conceal your shame as the ancient being crowded around you, the dry smell of sand and spices assaulting your nose as his heat threatened to overwhelm you as he leaned over the back of the couch.

"K-Khonshu--!" You sputter, almost gawking as his bare hand slides to replace yours, his large, thick fingers spreading your lips and gathering your wetness on his digits.

"A rather needy thing, aren't you?" His voice murmured, almost a humored huff coming from him as his thumb circled your clit, sending bolts of pleasure jolt up your spine.

You bite your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to come out; shame blending in an intoxicating cocktail as your very ethereal and otherworldly benefactor began to pick up where you left off.

"You were being so loud a moment ago." He chastised, his fingers moving very quickly over your clit, his mind focused on how the little nub was swollen and twitched beneath his grasp.

"Don't bother concealing it from me, now, you needy little thing. You're like a cat in heat, right now." You could feel his voice rumble through your, your bones trembling and the deep baritone vibrating your clit as your hand gripped weakly at his forearm.

Your stubborn pride told you not to, not to give in, that this was probably one of the most shameful things a god could catch their follower doing, but...

Most gods wouldn't participate, now would they? Surely, they would chastise you, or walk away and leave you alone to tend to yourself.

When you didn't comply, he grunted and pulled his hand away, your dripping cunt lamenting the loss of his warm touch; hips chasing him for more.

The characters in the movie long moved past the intense love-making between the protagonists. One of them screamed as they found the dead body of one of their friends.

"Disobedient little runt. I will not give you what you want so easily, especially not if you defy me."

The threat was cold, and... oh, fuck it.

"I--I'm sorry." You whimpered, your head dropping back once more, this time hitting the stiff bicep of his other arm he used to brace himself on the couch.

"Good girl." He purred, his hand once more resuming his cruel, blissful torture.

You hiccuped and moaned, rolling your hips once more, this time into the touch of another as heat bloomed low in your belly; molten lava creeping through your veins like thick molasses.

Your chest heaved as his other arm curled around you, his hand taking the soft weight of your breast into his palm, kneading the mound of flesh and pulling your nipple in perfect synchronicity with his other.

"Oh, ffuuuh--" You panted, your body caged from behind as the ancient deity whose age was beyond counting helped you rub one out on your dingey, shitty couch in the dead of night.

You felt your womb throb, wanting desperately to have something inside--

"Poor thing." Khonshu tsk'd. "Could you not find someone--something--to satisfy you? Here you are, rutting against my hand like it is all you know how to do. Pathetic."

You moaned louder this time, arching your back at the words he spat at you. You weren't one for this kind of dirty talk... but having it come from him had your head spinning like you had just gotten off of the tilt-a-whirl on Coney Island--but in a sinfully delicious way.

"Perhaps I should have left you alone. You seemed quite consumed by your little fantasy." He mused, his thumb pressing so hard against your clit that it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

"What were you imagining, little dove?" He rasped lowly, the dry, smooth side of his beak sweeping against you, feeling almost cool to your blazing cheek as you leaned into it.

"A nobody? Playing house with you? Laying you down in bed and devouring you like a banquet, perhaps?"

Oh, little did he know how close to the truth he actually was.

Or maybe he did know, and was using it to merely drive you over that mind-numbing precipice you wanted so desperately to fling yourself off of?

You could never tell with him, not when he was playing his mind games.

"I... Uh--ah--" You whine.

Khonshu's fingers pull up enough to slap your clit, the sudden feeling making your body jerk against him as the sound of your went cunt was heard even over the volume of your forgotten movie.

"I am reciting rhetoric. I will talk, and you will listen." He growls, his hand sliding down, his palm grinding against your clit as his fingers toy with your fluttering entrance.

Oh, you were so close, so fucking close. If he would just--

"I don't understand how mortals can function when urges like these are so strong." He sighed boredly, as if he wasn't currently fucking you with his hand, teasing your needy hole but not giving what you were truly craving...

"You are destined for more than a pathetic little house with a yard and a garden. You were meant to carry out my will."

That irked you, deep down. Yes, you knew attaining that very thing was highly unlikely for you, but he didn't have to insult you for fantasizing about being normal.

"F-fuck you." You managed to spit out, eyes crossing as they rolled back into your skull, your voice lacking the conviction and venom you wanted it to.

"You seem to be doing just that, my dear." He tipped his head to the side in a jerking motion.

He gave you not a moment to ponder his words as he hooked a thick finger inside of you, curving upwards and pressing hard against that textured spot inside your spongy walls, making you cry out and lift your hips off of the couch

"...In a manner of speaking." He sighed, pumping his finger in and out, paying extra attention to that oh so delicious spot within you, mapping out your very insides with methodical precision, quickly finding the method to get the best reactions out of you as your walls clenched down around him.

"Look at you, so desperate that you are letting me do this to you." Khonshu mocked softly, a chuckle coming from him as his fingers plucked your nipple and his palm ground hard onto your clit.

"Do you like this? Your god giving you such special attention?"

You keened, panting hard as your orgasm began to swell, each pulsing wave battering down the shores of pride and resolve you had struggled to build over the years of serving out the will of this... god.

"Ah... You are close, are you not?" He teased you, "Let's see..."

He managed to slip another finger inside of you, a groan actually rumbling out of him. You never thought you'd heard a sound like that from him.

But then again, you never expected him to finger-fuck you in your own couch before, either.

"You're tight, little bird." He growled, his voice strained as he scissored his fingers in and out of you, shoving you forcefully to the edge of the shores of your oblivion.

"When was the last time you bedded anyone other than your own hand? Months? Years?" He huffed, pumping them in and out of you rapidly, now.

You were so close you could feel the waters of sybaritism that you could taste the very petals of a lotus on the tip of your tongue.

"No wonder you have been so testy as of late."

Almost.

So close.

Just a bit more!

He leaned over, holding you to him almost like a child clutching a beloved toy; only it was far from something so innocent as you ride his hand like your life depended on it.

Your mouth open, your tongue just barely peaking over your bottom lip as you finally dove into the warm waters, silently waiting for the petals of a lotus to fall onto the wet, writhing muscle; drowning in each drop as your orgasm dragged you out to tide, drowning you as your god dabbled with your most intimate parts in such hedonistic fashion.

You were so lost in your post-coital haze that you didn't even register his hand leaving you until his body retracted; leaving you bereft of his warmth.

You turned your head in time, your eyes bleary, blood-shot and faraway as you watched him turn, toying with the sticky wetness coating his skin.

"Don't fall into this trap again, little dove." The god of the moon tells you over his shoulder, before disappearing in a cloud of mist.

But most certainly not before you had taken notice of the prominent bulge beneath his bandages and robes...

[moethh]

dashboard simulator but with saints

⚔ knight--lover Follow

I ASKED FOR ROMANCE BOOKS AND THIS IS WHAT THEY GAVE ME???!?!??? WHAT AM I LOOKING AT????? 💀💀💀

♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow

nvm this stuffs good 💀

#like actually??? #gonna keep reading these while my leg is still healing #recovery update

15 notes

🌹 littlefl0wer Follow

cosplay!

♻️ ⚜ born-to-do-this Follow

Oh this is incredible! I love it!

♻️ 🌹 littlefl0wer Follow

oh my goodness?! thank you so much!! ❤️❤️❤️

#wow! i didn't know you would actually see this! #i'm so happy you like it!! #<3 #edit: we're mutuals now!!!

442 notes

🌟 host-prince Follow

EVERYONE‼ Below is a list of users who are ACTUAL DEMONS. PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM. Just block and report. Stay safe everyone.

Keep reading

#I am not going to add trigger or content warnings to this post as I want people to see it. #However #you are obviously free to add them to your own reblogs if you wish to do so.

15,837 notes

🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

🤔

♻️ 💧 locustman Follow

???? Uncle???????? What is this????? What does this Mean????????

♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

👍

♻️ 💧 locustman Follow

???????????????????????????????????? @'mom? Can you explain? Please????

♻️ 👑 mom Follow

Idk

♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

👍

1,118 notes

⚔ knight--lover Follow

PH M

OH MY GOSH. Ok. Rant incoming.

So there's this guy I'm traveling with and GET THIS: HE DOESN'T BELIEVE IN @/mom's PERPETUAL VIRGINITY?!?!??!?!

I'm thinking of killing him. Like. Actually. I'm not even kidding. I genuinely can't decide whether or not I should kill him.

So you guys should decide:

#rant #my polls #tw antidicomarian #cw antidicomarian #please vote or else i'll just let my horse decide for goodness' sake

216 notes

👑 mom Follow

Alright, someone tagged me on @knight--lover's poll so this is my response to it:

♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow

Hm. I'll think about it.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

♻️ 👑 mom Follow

YOUNG MAN.

#Ignatius. Come on.

523 notes

🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

Wow! I've just found a ton of these little guys in a part of the monastery I've never been in before!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

seems like your monastery needs one of these

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

NO!!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

what? don't like cats?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

I LIKE THE MICE!!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

if you could save all the mice in the world, would you if all the cats starved to death?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

??? What?????? I am so confused.

Are you implying that cats only eat mice, and if they couldn't, then they would just. Die? What is happening.

♻️ ��� claaaaaare Follow

Hey, @fraaaaaancis. Just curious how you would solve this.

♻️ 🐺 fraaaaaancis Follow

Hm. Well, it seems that St. Gertrude's situation is implying that you could only save either all cats or all mice with no survivors on the other side. To me, she is just asking which animal you like more.

There is really nothing to solve? This whole situation is very strange.

♻️ 🐱 gertie-the-kitty Follow

THATS NOT EVEN ME??? WHO IS THAT THAT IS NOT ME

@host-prince @host-prince @host-prince??????

♻️ 🌟 host-prince Follow

purrtrude is definitely Not You.

♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow

OP is this your post?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

#wghhhhghghhh #i just wanted to show off the mice...... #they're living happily by the way! i bring them food!

374 notes

🎨 luke-the-artpostle Follow

#my art #artists on christblr

1,852,658 notes

🐲 marthamartha Follow

look at this Thing. with that look you would probably think that the man just so happened to crawl in its mouth. what a Creature.

anyways does anyone have a sword

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

WILL PEOPLE IN THE NOTES STOP TELLING ME TO KEEP IT??? AS IF IT HASN'T KILLED PEOPLE?????

in case anyone forgot, this is a literal DRAGON

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

@turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side???????????? what??????????

♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow

I fail to see what needs explaining. Where did it live?

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

I-

Ok. It lived in the water.

♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow

hm. Maybe it would taste like fish?

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

Maybe. I honestly don't know what the townspeople did with the body. They just asked me for help 🤷‍♀️

♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow

#??????????????? #I am somewhat concerned for you two #(for all of my mutuals actually but as of seeing this post right now I am very concerned for Lawrence especially) #But I shan't say that I'm surprised considering that Lawrence told jokes while he was burning alive #and now that's his username for some reason #As a fellow joke-maker I suppose I admire that? #But as a human being I am concerned

563 notes

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Obey Me

♡ featuring: kaeya x f!reader

♡ summary: you learn your lesson for disrespecting the calvary captain wc: 4.1k+ (i am so sorry)

♡ cw/tw: wax play, humiliation, degradation, sex toys, dacryphilia, rough sex, hard dom, overstim, orgasm torture, edging, bondage, squirting, pet play if you squint, kaeya is kind of an asshole, pet names (dove, pretty girl, sweetie)

notes: idk how the word count did that I'm too silly. feral kaeya does something to me tbh. n e way I promise a shorter one next time hehe. art by ttalby_ on ig <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Kaeya isn’t used to feeling like this.  

The interesting days of tasks and adventitious missions superseded his need for activities outside of the Knights of Favonius. He often stumbled—more so, needlessly interjected—into petty situations. He lived for theatrics, an audience to indulge emotion and intimacy in its most vulnerable state. A man who solves the problems of the public before his own knew neither authentic nor genuine connection. Kaeya was well aware of how easily he made hearts swoon, with a silver tongue and attractive timbre, a mask imperceptible. When you arrived as an apprentice for the 6th Company, he assumed you’d be just as easy, just as captivated. You were anything but. You barely acknowledged his existence for the first year, and he’d be wrong to say your lack of dalliance didn’t chip away at his self-esteem. 

Something egotistical in him wanted your attention. Romantic prospects were dispensable to him, but you had to know who he was. After all, who doesn’t love the Calvary Captain?  

Just for fun he told himself, as you became the first person to turn him flushed and sow seeds of doubt surrounding love in his heart. Kaeya finally managed to achieve your regard and all you asked for was his name. The audacity of you, to ask the captain who he is? He nearly busted out laughing. He gently held your hand and kneeled to kiss it, maintaining eye contact throughout. 

“Kaeya, my dear.” 

You were surprised to find him waiting for you outside the headquarters one day, handsome navy strands haloed in confidence, a delicate flower and perfumed letter in hand. Kaeya watched you read it in silence, his poem dedicated to you, requesting a date. You couldn’t help but smile at his charm, despite his sweaty palms as he awaited your answer. An accumulation of the little things; the bouquet of roses he bought you weekly, so you’d always have a fresh one, making sure you were always hydrated, his ability to make you laugh in trying times. You were both full of adoration, though he wouldn’t admit how invested he was. The only person who glimpsed the truth was Diluc. Kaeya rambled in his drunken stupor at the tavern, and Diluc sighed at the overdramatic sonnet. “My heart beats for her like no other. Will this be my fate? My Greek tragedy?” he mumbled through hiccups. 

As your relationship blossomed, work withered. An emerging problem reared its ugly head. Your assignments consumed your daily life and dwindled the moments spent with Kaeya. In the beginning stages of dating he understood, exuding nothing but patience and encouraging words. He didn’t expect you to drop work for him, and he was willing to accommodate the hectic schedule. Romantic gestures were limited to light caresses or kisses, clandestine sessions in abandoned alleyways. Frequent dates reduced to a couple a week, then a month, then none. The worst instances were when you assured Kaeya you’d arrive, only to call him a couple hours later with a tired apology, still stuck at your office. You promised him you’d make time for yourself and practice self-care, but it was evident you weren’t listening to his advice. You were no stranger to quickies, kindly offering them to Kaeya if he ever needed “destressing”. But the captain was never a fan of rushed affairs. He wanted desperately to share extended time with you, and you had none to give. It became easier to lie than to admit how overworked you were. 

Kaeya didn’t come to headquarters today, but you recall the conversation from the previous night. 

“Mm, I’m missing my little dove. Think you can come see me?” he said, tilting your chin up to meet his loving gaze. 

“Of course. I don’t have a lot of work tomorrow so I should be done early.” 

“Great. I’ll make dinner for us. Be at my place by 8, okay?” You agreed to the timeframe. 

Now that you’re comprehending the incomplete documents strewn across your desk, you regret your conviction. You shouldered the weight of everyone in your division. It’s getting close to the date, and you’ve barely scratched the surface. You fumble for concentration, anchoring down to finish the rest of the list. You make haste and shove the papers at Hertha. I still have time to get there you thought. Glancing up at the clock as you dart out the building, your eyes widen at what it reads. 10:15 pm. 

Fuck. You’re running now, skirt bouncing and bag rustling, navigating busy streets with an uneasy mind. Once again you promised, and once again you broke it. How could you be so careless? You catch your breath when your hand contacts the door. You relax before giving a few light knocks. The door swings open.  

Kaeya’s hair is free from its usual constraints, draping down his back and shoulders, wispy bangs hugging his sharp features. He’s clearly pissed reclining against the doorframe. He stares at you with his arms folded in front of the parted button down that peaks into the muscular, scarred chest underneath. 

“Kaeya, I-” 

“Get inside.” He turns and walks to the kitchen. You follow him inside and take note of the cold portion of a beautiful plate—presumably your meal—sitting on the table. He swishes the nearly finished red wine before taking a sip. You search aimlessly for an acceptable excuse while he leans against the table with his hand, glass in the other, eyes trained to the floor. Each second of silence simmering makes your stomach knot tighter, and he lets you stand uncomfortably.  

“I’m sorry, I... There were a few roads closed in the area. I had to take a different route.” you fib. He gazes at you, panning up and down before forcing a sarcastic smile. 

“How unfortunate. Are these the same roads that made you three hours late?" His jaw tightens. 

“It was pretty busy today-”  

“I’m feeling generous tonight, so I'll give you one more chance to be honest.”  

You sighed. “I’m so sorry. There’s been a lot of work lately. It’s not fair to you to deal with my problems.” He scoffs deeply, downing the rest of the glass and sets it on the table. 

“If this isn’t working for you, I understand.” 

“Oh? Are you suggesting a separation? Not even the gall to try and make it up to me?” he sneers. 

“You’re handsome and people like you. It’s not hard to find other options.” 

“If it’s not hard, why is the one thing I truly desire so difficult to hold? A petal drifting unpredictable wind, too quick to grasp.” He starts stalking towards you, relaxed but seemingly irritated. The contrast between his words and actions unnerves you. 

“How many times must I tell you to take care of yourself, to not let them walk over you, to come to me if you need help?” He gets to you and snakes his calloused hand behind your neck, a firm grip. Yearning lips are inches from yours, his hair tickles your eyelashes. 

“Why can’t you just listen to me, (Y/N)? Hmm?” He’s lenient, but you feel a shiver up your back and heat pooling in your stomach, nonetheless. 

“I’ll try harder. I promise.” you say, barely above a whisper. The pad of his thumb swirls your cheek. 

“I won’t entertain promises. Show me your dedication.” 

“What do I do to prove it?” A sadistic grin grows across his face, and lips graze your ear, sultry voice coiling around the shell. Your breath stalls. 

“Tonight, I’ll eat you up slowly-” Kaeya peppers soft kisses between the words against your jaw. “-savoring every. Little. Bite.” He trails down to your neck. You're melting in his hold, grabbing his robust arms for anything to stabilize you. "And when I’m picking you apart, and there’s tears in your eyes and you’re begging and you can’t take it anymore-” He drinks up your anticipation, an amused chuckle from the shudder prickling your skin.  

“-you’ll sit there and obey me until I'm done. Like a good pet.” 

You’re stripped of everything besides your underwear in front of the restlessly eager man. Standing in the center of this candlelit room, you feel miles away from him as he sits fully clothed on the edge of the bed. He’s lax, legs spread with a nonchalant posture; they invite you to kneel between them. Sex with Kaeya was never like this. Though infrequent, your back-alley blowjobs were done with kindness and haste. It was one thing for Kaeya to ogle your mouthwatering figure, another in the humiliating state he constrains you to. Your hands are bound by leather handcuffs that clip to a chunky black collar on both sides, limiting the movement of your wrists to just centimeters away from your face. You could move if you tried to, but the collar locked and tightened around your neck the harder you struggled. In the middle was attached a dangling leash, empty of its owner.  

The vibrating lace panties he put you in buzz agonizingly low against your clit, sending gentle bursts to the butt plug filling deep, foreign space in your body. You’re glutted, chafing your thighs together to numb the sweet ache dotting your core. 

“C’mere dove.” Kaeya orders, his finger curls in a guiding motion. You take one step assuming his entreat, and he retorts with a tut. 

“Aht aht, dogs don’t walk. Get on your knees and crawl to me.” Embarrassment overcomes you as you drop to your knees from the filthy demand. It’s degrading, having to crawl without the use of your arms. You scuffle with balance, and he takes pleasure in playing with the controller. Your rocking rear and wobbly legs find rhythm on the floor through the violent highs and lows of vibration. It was harder due to the position you stumbled in; the bullet teases you in the right spots. You finally reach him, resting your head on his knee, exhausted for what’s to come. He merely pats your head and uses the other to stifle the smug smirk. 

“Good puppy. Look at me.” Suddenly, he wraps the leash around his hand and pulls in taut. It snaps your eyes to his lustful expression, a thick aura that encapsulates you, suffocates you in his command. Kaeya zips his pants down to spring his throbbing cock free, a dark brown gradient to the mushroom tip.  

“Suck. If you let anything spill, I’ll punish you” he cooes. You lick the pre come away, fixating on the sensitive tip. His breathy sighs show appreciation. You lick in circular motions around it before lolling your tongue and taking all of him between your lips. His girth makes space in your mouth impossible until the head presses the back of your throat. “Ugh, fuck” he groans. Kaeya stands and pulls the leash towards him, enough to nuzzle your nose against his pubes. You gag and slobber over his balls from the constant pressure in your throat, and he keeps you there, watching the tears ball in your eyes, unfazed by your retching pleas. He keeps a firm grip on the back of your head.  

“Can you take it?” It’s almost mocking, as if he can’t see the mascara that smears your cheeks and your sweaty, breathless figure. You nod anyway, eager to please. He hums approval before pulling out completely and hammering his length down your throat. His heavy balls smack your chin at a savage pace, and strings of spit connect your puffy lips to his shaft. It’s barbaric and your throat is raw from the impact, but he chases his high. You’re absolutely powerless, your hands can’t even push his thighs back. However, subconsciously it felt nice, to be out of control, at the mercy of someone else using you for their impulse. The whir in your soaking panties feels richer now, tangling in your lower back and clouding your senses. All you smell and feel is him, it was like you never worked a day in your life. Like you were made for this, and this alone. Obscene noises come from your squelching mouth and Kaeya’s broken moans. Fuck and yes are all he can handle through constant whimpers, and you feel him trembling toward his release. He tilts your head to get a better view of you, spit and tears mixed with strands of hair stuck to your skin. You were a mess. But his eyes are solely on you, drenched in adoration and pure love for your trust in him.  

“I want this pretty face on me when I come” he whines and speeds up his thrusts before spurting hot, creamy ropes down your throat, painting your mouth white. He twitches wildly on your tongue till rest, and his guttural moans echo in your ears as you hollow your cheeks to suck him clean. A satisfying pop emerges when you free his tip, and he recollects himself. He somehow looks completely untouched, besides the sheen of sweat; the poise of a prince. 

Once Kaeya comes to his senses, he eyes the evidence of wetness that soaks through your panties, along with drops of pre come you failed to notice. Truthfully, you tried hard to avoid spilling anything, but the sensations in both your back and front were dizzying. He drawls a dramatic sigh, and loosely fiddles with the leash. 

“Didn’t I say not to spill anything?” His words are methodical, weaving enough vitriol to make your blood still at the upcoming punishment. “I’m sorr-” 

“You made a mess. Clean it.” He drops the leash and waits. What you assumed to be a towel clean-up was quickly refuted as you felt the tension of his boot press on your upper back. With just enough weight, he forces your body down towards the fluids, arms crossed. You lick it up without complaint. “Good puppy” he praises. 

Kaeya picks you up as if you’re featherlight and sets you on the edge of the bed on your stomach. You can’t see what he’s doing, and the silence frightens you. Immediately, the judder of the bullet increases significantly—not enough to make you come, but just enough to torment. You attempt to sway from undying heat between your legs, yet the static overtakes. Unbeknownst to you, the butt plug begins to vibrate, as well. You whine and arch your back involuntarily. You finally hear a deep chuckle from Kaeya. His fingers graze your sopping underwear. 

“So naughty, you got like this just from sucking me off?” He pushes the bullet harshly against you. You mewl from the feeling. “Please Kaeya, it’s too much.” 

“Shh, I know, I know. We still have a long way to go.” he soothes. He spreads your ass to reveal more area, and he’s hushed to an alluring whisper in your ear. “(Y/N). I’m going to spank you. And each time I do, you’ll count. One, thank you. Two, thank you. Up to sixteen. Understand?” 

“Yes” you rasped. 

“Good girl.” 

Kaeya massages your backside and prepares a slap. His palm crashes sharply on one with a resounding crack. Blazing surge sprawls across the whole cheek, but you manage to stay afloat. “One, thank you.” He promptly delivers another, a staggering strike to match the other cheek. “Two, thank you” you hissed. He kneads the smoldering dough in his hands and smiles at the juices stuck to your inner thighs. 

“Such a pervert. You’re not enjoying this, are you?” he teases. The lines of pleasure and pain blurred for you long before. The crackling fire of his hand swatting your ass makes you cry out. He’s brutal, and the grip you have on his sheets colors your knuckles white. You endure delicious thwacks with a tender bottom all the way through thirteen. Your malleable mind forgets to count past that, forgets your place. Kaeya feigns hurt. “Am I that forgettable? Should we start over?” A shudder trails down your back. 

“M’no, Kaeya ple-ase. ‘M sorry.” you stammer. He swipes your tears with his thumb and licks it. “I’m touched by your tears” he groans. He moves back to your searing bottom, digging crescent shaped indents into the welted flesh with his nails. 

“Do you know why I had you count to sixteen?” 

“N-no...” 

A low hmph. “That’s the number of dates you missed.” You go pale for a second. “It won’t happen again, Kaeya. Please!” you beg. The need for release ruins your rational thoughts, and he can taste your desperation. “Please what, dove?” He plays ignorance. “Tell me exactly what you want.” He caresses your face lovingly, despite his cruelty. 

“Wanna come, I need it so bad, Kaeya.” His name rolling off your tongue in lewd fervor makes his length constrict in his pants. You’re putty in his presence, and he delights in molding you to his wishes. 

"Are you worthy of it?" he taunts. Fresh tears brim your eyes, and he can’t fight back the snicker in his throat. He walks away from you, and you’re left alone until you feel the mattress give way under his knee. What little sight you had in front of you is robbed by the silky black blindfold pulling stiff on your eyes. “Too tight?” 

“A little.” He loosens it a bit and kisses your temple. Suddenly, a sphere makes contact with your lips, and you open. The ball gag secures around the back of your head, and you’re already salivating from the stretch of your jaw. 

“You know what, I’ll let you come.” he lulled. You can’t hear the malicious tinge in his words, and he swiftly turns both vibrators up to a harrowing speed at the same time. A strangled moan gets caught in your throat and you quiver and lurch over. He spanks your sore behind in response. 

“Keep your back arched. I want a perfect view” he husks. You use the stamina you have left to stay in that position. Your hips are unconsciously rutting against the bullet, and the ecstasy lapping at your swollen clit sends trails of fire up your stomach. Kaeya watches the saturated outline of your convulsing vulva, the honeyed, muffled moans unending and palms his erection.  

“I’m sorry, this must be so hard for you” he soothes. “Almost as hard as it was for me to hear you lie so blatantly.” Kaeya wasn’t a man that held grudges, but he took amusement in your reactions. All he can think about is breaking you, with each touch and kiss; so that you travel through heaven and hell, drowning in desire until he carries you out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you come hard, hole fluttering around nothing with electricity squirming in your bones. However, the pressure doesn’t stop, it seems to vibrate faster as you buck and cry. “Oops, wrong setting.” He turns it up higher, the bastard. It rips through your orgasm, already approaching another and you can’t take the sting. “Tell me if it’s too much” he sneers. Your hands jolt and snap back to the collar.  

“I’ll turn it off later, I’m kind of busy right now. You know, work and stuff.” What? He wouldn’t leave you like this, right? Undecipherable noises bounce around the gag, but none persuade him. Footsteps get quieter, then the door shuts.  

You can’t look or beg for Kaeya, and tears begin to stain the blindfold. Buzzing roars in your ears, your limbs are too weak to hold up and you can barely breathe. Your thighs shake from sick passion, and you come undone again over the persistent toys. The twenty minutes he was gone felt like hours. Your muffled sobs are uncontrollable, come cascading down your legs and spit dribbles from your lips. You aren’t sure how many times you came before he got back.  

The Archons must have shown mercy; the vibrations stopped. You hear that suave voice resounding in your brain. 

“I think you’ve earned a break.” he says, freeing the panties from you. The plug steadily glides out of your pulsing ring, and he removes the blindfold. Kaeya is the first thing you see, and for a moment he shines like royalty. The gag comes off and you’re babbling Kaeya’s name over and over like a chant, a devoted disciple. He cradles your face and hushes you. 

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He flips you on your back. You’re in a daze gazing at him but his attention is lowered to your spread legs, slabbering at the slippery aftermath of his abandonment. 

“Beautiful. A living work of art” he whispered. His mask dissolves before you. He reaches for one of the red candles glowing vividly on his nightstand and returns with the wax-leaking stick. You share a soft kiss, warm and pure while he tilts the candle over your chest. He’s careful with the course and allows it to dance across your breasts, down your sternum and above your pelvis. Each crimson plop and fleck are its own singing thrill, but your awareness is diverted to his wanton kisses, the nips on your bottom lip. Heat reignites your core. Once he blows out the candle, he smudges French kisses down your neck, tracing the pattern of the wax to subdue the burn. “You’re flawless” he breaths against your nipple. He sucks one while pinching the other, the occasional bite on your slightly bruising skin makes you wince. He slides off the bed and starts stripping with an insatiable thirst that longed to be inside you, shirt and pants thrown about. In one swoop, he grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge.  

“If I uncuff you, will you behave?” You nod frantically with the clinking metal, and he detaches the restraints. He brings your legs over his shoulder, and you feel the cockhead prodding your slit. Kaeya sinks his tip into you, and you’re suddenly overcome with frenetic throbbing that ripples through your hypersensitive clit. “W-wait, Kaeya-” You don’t have nearly enough strength to protest when you grab his wrists settled on your waist—he’s determined to fuck it out of you. “Mm, just a little more” He’s craving, his veins rub your walls all the way to the base. With his balls flush, he pulls out and drives into you. The first pump sends a flaming shock through your body, an abyssal fall you succumb to. You can’t register the erotic screams or pleasant shock of Kaeya as a stream of liquid coats your bodies and drenches the sheets. Your hysterical sobs and innocent sorry’s are music to his ears, better than any melody in Teyvat. He rubs circles on your lower belly and starts again at an unrelenting pace. “I-I can’t Kaeya, ‘m coming so hard.” you wail, writhing from the deep strokes coaxing your g-spot. Your stomach quakes and you grip him like a vice, he can’t stop the feral urge. “Fuck- aww, sweetie. I know, I know. Can you do another one, for me?” He tries to keep his composure, but his voice is bordering unhinged, dying to see you squirt again. Kaeya's chest pins yours and he pummels your cunt with your shaky legs locked around him. Your nails latch onto his back and you weep into his shoulder. The emotion is too intense; your heart thrums viciously in your ears.  

“You’re my pretty little fuck toy, hmm?” he stutters through thrusts. “Just lay here and take my cock. Quit your job. Be mine entirely.” Loud plap’s accompany his silent plea, and you feel another orgasm boiling. His palm pressing on your womb makes you incoherent and he chuckles. “Aw sweetie, it feels too good?” he mocks. You touch foreheads. You’re both teeming, waiting for each other. “Give it to me. Come on my cock like a good slut” he demands. Wave after relentless wave splinters you, and the gushing sprinkler covers him exactly like he wanted. Kaeya moans at the sight. “Shit, ‘m coming.” He pursues his sputtering hips, shooting thick globs that greedily crowd your sex.  

Kaeya breathes heavily as he comes down from his peak twitching inside. You still tremble sporadically in his arms. He rubs your back, placing calming kisses all over your face. “You alright, pretty girl?” You’re edging on unconsciousness. He stays with you until you gather responsiveness.  

When you wake, the collar is off, and you identify concern in his eyes. “You weren't this scared when you were killing me” you murmur quietly. Kaeya flashes a genuine smile. “If you died from good sex, that’d be quite the compliment on my part.” He props you into his lap facing him, and you're reposed on his chest. He pats your hair, staring off into nothing and everything. 

“I’d much rather have you in pieces. Because I’m the only one that can put you back together.” It was a passing thought, one that shouldn’t be said out loud. It churns in your gut, and you aren’t sure why. 

“You worked so hard today. Let’s take a bath, okay?”