#firearms for sell

[jeefyjett]

Stuff are available Dm or click the link in my bio

Tap in for great deals serious clients only

https://armorygunshops.com/

[mantradown]

[rainydaysie]

hadn’t that guy played an OUNCE of COD or some other fps?? all i’m saying is if it were ME

[cashforarms]

Our mission is to ensure that firearms are bought and sold through safe and legal routes.  Preventing illegal firearm transactions leads to fewer lives lost to illegal gun violence.  This idea leads to every decision we make

[mkarchin713]

Thanks to Danny’s connections in the Zone as well as to Clockwork, Jazz quickly becomes known as a purveyor of not only modern firearms but also antique firearms.

Jazz swiftly becomes very popular in the historically accurate LARPing communities. She even has period accurate ammo.

Not only that but thanks to her Fenton genes she is a pro at customization, and the creation of specialized non-lethal ammo. Her Fenton Foamer bullets are particularly popular.

Jazz still puts her psychoanalyzing to good use, and refuses to sell to those who don’t pass her vibe check or her gun safety course.

Short DPXDC Prompts #1032

Jazz has gotten far better in aim and weaponry over the years. She never expected to get into gun collecting but here she is, opening a gun store in the heart of Gotham. If you ask politely, she might just let you peruse her special collection in the back. It’s chalk full of Fenton weaponry and her own custom builds. It’s stuff that an ATF auditor would take one look at and shut down her entire store without a second thought. Lucky for Jazz, the local rogues gallery has long since scared the ATF from stepping foot in Gotham.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"NO DEVELOPMENTS IN KRAFCHENKO CASE TODAY," Winnipeg Tribune. December 12, 1913. Page 1. ---- Prisoner is Still Incarcerated at City Police Station - No Further Arrests ---- No new developments are forthcoming in the Krafchenko case today. The accused is still incarcerated in the cells at the city police station and so far as can be learned has not yet made any endeavor to retain counsel. Although every effort is being made to discover the remainder of the stolen money, no further sums have been found.

It is alleged today that Krafchenko had an acquaintance at Plum Coulee. This man, it is stated, was taken to police headquarters a few days ago and there he told what he knew and went with the provincial and local police to the house on College avenue. He pointed out the house.

The man who drove the automobile from Winnipeg is alleged to be a local chauffeur well known to the police. He is said to have taken a car on the day of the robbery and cached it in the bush about eighteen miles from Plum Coulee. This was to be the rendezvous. Krafchenko and a friend came there together and they were brought to Winnipeg by the chauffeur. The police departments were, it is said, made aware of Krafchenko's presence in the city on Thursday, when they got on his trail at William avenue.

[trinityauctiongallery]

One man's firearm collection

Part TWO – Online auction of one man’s firearm collection; get them before they are gone. Auction method – where you set the price you want to pay. Final auction sale of estate firearms collection Here at Asset Marketing Pros, we are listing the final auction for this one man’s firearm collection. It has been our pleasure to assist this family in liquidating this fabulous collection from…

[sparkdogfirearms]

TANFOGLIO FIREARM For Sale | Sparkdog Firearms

Tanfoglio is an Italian firearms manufacturer known for producing a wide range of handguns. These firearms are generally available in a variety of calibers, including 9mm, .45 ACP, .40 S&W, and others, making them suitable for different purposes, including self-defense, sport shooting, and competitive shooting.

Product Name: Tanfoglio TANFOGLIO LIMITED MASTER XTRME .45 4.75" 10RND CHROME/BLUED

Product Details:

Width: 11.9500 Finish: CHROME Height: 4.0000 Length: 19.2500 Caliber: 45acp Dimension: 4.00 X 11.95 X 19.25 Frame Color: CHROME Slide Color: BLUED Grip Material: ALUMINUM Frame Material: STEEL Other Features: SPCL FINISHING, BLUED SLIDE ,EXTENDED AMBI SAFETY, POLYGONAL RIFLING, BULL BBL, FIBER OPTIC FRONT SIGHT, ADJ REAR SIGHT, MAGWELL

Product Price: $2,333.99

[patricia-taxxon]

reverse house flipping, purchase a home for a million dollars, make it worse, shoot firearms at night from the patio, sell it again after the neighborhood is cheap and undesirable

[messenger-of-babel]

Coloured Red

Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx

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It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Never like this.

He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.

Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.

"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.

"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.

"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.

"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.

"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."

Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"

"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."

Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."

Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.

Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."

"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.

"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"

"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."

"For who though?" Tim asks.

"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."

Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.

"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.

They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.

"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.

"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.

"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.

"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.

"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.

"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.

"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.

Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.

But if he wasn't?

Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.

"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.

"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.

"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.

His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.

Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.

He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."

He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.

"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."

Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.

When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.

"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.

He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.

"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.

He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.

Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.

[jeefyjett]

The website link in bio tap in we are available and very reliable

[post-leffert]

For An Anarchist Radio Relay League

A free zine about amateur radio for anarchists.

For an Anarchist Radio Relay League (0.24.1.1)

For an Anarchist Radio Relay League (0.24.1.1) -booklet

However, in a time when the United States government is fighting tooth and nail for the preservation of its own legitimacy while simultaneously eviscerating community services by way of privatization (Health Care, Postal Service, Public Land, Public schools, you name it), it is as important for the anti-authoritarian Working Class to learn about the science and art of radio communication as it is to learn how to grow food and shoot straight. (read "Factories, Fields, and the Firearms to Defend Them" by Hybachi LeMar )

In fact, in October of 2020, Ajit Pai's* FCC** ordered amateur access to the 3.5GHz band to be "sunset" (http://www.arrl.org/news/fcc-orders-amateur-access-to-3-5-ghz-band-to-sunset ) so that the frequency space can be sold to private companies to expand the new 5G mobile network. While this isn't exactly disastrous for anyone other than a specific sub-set of Hams***, it is par for the course for this early half of the 21st Century that the government would sell off public property to the highest bidder so that private companies can sell it back to "Consumers" and lock poor people out of access to something as ubiquitous as air or water. Sound familiar? (https://iaffaiorg.wordpress.com/2020/10/11/skills-for-revolutionary-survival-5-communications-equipment-for-rebels/)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Pressure reader finding a gun and now can and will defend themself from monster or execute other people for doing something dumb

I'm sorry but I saw this and decided to run with how finding a gun might actually go for a Prisoner!Reader /lh

..................

"Wow...guess somebody forgot to pick this up. Or maybe Sebastian got tired of me dying to those monsters all the time.."

Staring down at the weapon that was just laying on the floor, you looked around to see if any cameras were currently watching you. Of course, there was a singular one with a red light in the corner above the next door, aimed directly at your position.

They were always watching.

From the comfort and safety of their headquarters, they watched you get maimed by the creatures here over and over again. Whether it's a Wall Dweller sneaking up on you or Pandemonium ramming into the locker you're hiding in nonstop....they've seen it all.

So at this point, you didn't care that they could see your clear interest in the object on the ground.

One you were forbidden to take.

But to hell with them and their rules.

After all you've suffered through down here, you deserved to have some kind of self-defense tool that wasn't just a light source you had to conserve.

Why shouldn't you be allowed to protect yourself? They were going to kill all the creatures who escaped containment, anyways, so if you could kill them now, why not?

Unfortunately, HQ begged to differ, as the moment you crouched down to pick up the pistol, a familiar voice came onto the intercom:

"Do not touch the weapon. Leave it alone and it will be collected by authorized personnel later."

"...figures." You glared at the camera, standing up. "Why don't you tell your "authorized personnel" to put down those sea monsters instead?! I think I'm allowed to defend myself if-"

*pop*

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Back here again, are we?"

"Yeah..I guess.." Grumbling, you rubbed your neck as you looked up at the familiar trio of glowing blue eyes and angler lure. Even now, you still had a killer headache from the PDG detonation.

Then again, that was your own fault.

You didn't need to read the same document twice.

"I don't recommend defying them again. At least..not until you find a way to scramble their connection." Sebastian advised, sighing as he shook his head. "You gotta remember you have no rights down here. Neither of us do. It sucks but, we gotta deal with it."

"The IDS has gone haywire..but they're worried about me shooting through a glass window.." You huffed. "What if it wasn't even loaded?"

"Well I'm not sure if you know this, but prisoners and guns don't exactly go together. Just use what you've learned in the past to avoid the threats. It doesn't matter to them how "badly" you think you needed a firearm. You'll never get your hands on one, and I'm certainly not gonna sell any to you. Period."

"....I guess that pistol would've been useless if it didn't any rounds..."

"Anyway, here's what your overseer had to say on the matter. It's..kinda funny." Sebastian showed you another file, documenting your time and cause of death, along with a comment.

"The EXR-P stumbled across a small firearm that was left behind during the lockdown and defied direct orders to drop it, thinking they were an exception to the rule. This cannot happen again."

"Okay, that's bullshit. They're making it sound like I was an entitled asshole." You pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I can see why. Backtalking them is funny and all until your head pops. If you want them to take you seriously, you'll have to reach that crystal."

"Fine. I'll be a good little expendable and just focus on that." Putting a ferryman token on the table, you looked up at Sebastian. "Tell the guy downstairs I wanna continue where I was."

"Alright. Better not waste it." He swiped the coin, fading back into the darkness.

In the blink of an eye, you returned to the Blacksite, in the same room that you died in. It was clear of any blood that was left behind after your PDG went off, and of course..the pistol wasn't anywhere to be found.

It would have been useless anyways.

On the bright side, you did find a blacklight and some batteries in the drawers that you didn't check before, and you realized it's wiser to just use them to protect yourself.

'Okay. Let's just play it safe and keep going.'

[missouri-and-woe]

if sears had really wanted to save themselves from bankruptcy they would have started selling firearms straight to our doors again

[acciotaitlynn]

⋆｡˚꒰sharp desires꒱˚｡⋆

You hand Zayne a list, each bullet point revealing your most secret desires. Instead, he devises something infinitely better than anything you could have imagined.

⤵

⟢ zayne⌇fem!reader

⟢ 18+ graphic sexual content. unprotected sex/no pulling out. p in da v. oral. fingering. light bondage. knife play. teasing. slight sub/dom dynamic. triggering situations such as depictions of cutting, staged assault, and a staged break-in. teensy bit of blood. i don’t normally write themes like this bc i feel i can’t do them justice, but this man and his scalpel been on my mind for a whileee now

* i know that last part is probably unrealistic but i think it’s hot sue me 🙈

⟢ 4,008 words

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You woke with a start, your senses immediately on high alert despite the grogginess of sleep. The dark room, bathed in eerie moonlight, sent shivers racing down your spine while fluttering curtains and an unsettling silence prickled your skin with goosebumps.

The digital clocks glow, flashing 2:44am, seemed unnaturally bright, amplifying the sudden creeping fear tingling through your body.

Gripping your firearm tightly, you moved with cautious steps to the kitchen, systematically checking the bathroom and closets for any signs of intrusions. Finding nothing, the unease settled deeper in your gut as you poured a glass of water and headed back to bed.

You were halfway down the hall when powerful arms wrapped around you from behind, a hand clamping over your mouth to suppress your screams. The glass shattered on impact as you struggled fervently, but the grip remained unyielding.

In all black attire, a hood masking their face, the intruder exuded a possessive aura that felt unnervingly familiar. Thrown onto the bed, you were pinned down with a roughness tempered by gentle caresses. Bright hazel eyes, burning with an intensity you'd never seen before, met yours.

Recognizing the intruder was Zayne brought an initial wave of relief that quickly dissolved under his predatory gaze. His eyes traced your form with an unfamiliar hunger as he held your arms over your head, watching raptly as your breath hitched in an intoxicating blend of fear and arousal. 

Despite your angelic demeanor, you had often shared desires for darker, more intense experiences, even recently presenting Zayne with a list that truly challenged his boundaries.

He had grappled with the idea of inflicting pain without mutual arousal, ending up in a struggle to align your fantasies with his own pleasure. Thankfully, a realization had dawned on him, igniting a surprising, twisted excitement that fueled a resolute plan.

In the midst of trying to persuade him to explore some of the acts you had listed, your main selling point was the notion that letting go in such a way could potentially alleviate the intense work-related stress he habitually bottled up. Zayne, however, failed to grasp this perspective—in his view, causing you pain would likely only escalate his stress levels. Yet, the night he had endured was nothing short of harrowing, and it was thoughts of indulging in precisely that release that saw him through the ordeal.

Apart from the moments he was forced to focus solely on a surgical procedure, visions of you beneath him—just as you lay now, eyes swirling with an utterly captivating blend of fear and desire—danced persistently in his thoughts, gradually consuming his mind entirely. Abandoning his unfinished paperwork on the desk, with plans to return to the hospital once his encounter with you concluded, he hastily made his way home.

The bag, meticulously prepared and awaiting its moment ever since he first conceived this plan, beckoned him from the edge of the bed.

“You’ve haunted my every thought today,” he confessed in a low voice laced with longing, his eyes fixed on yours, fervently searching for a response that mirrored his own tumultuous emotions. “Perhaps your theory was correct—it's as if the weight of the day is beginning to melt away… It’s intoxicating.” 

Zayne found it intriguing to see the way your eyes had flickered with relief upon seeing him, only to quickly morph into anxiety as you realized the darker intent lurking behind his gaze. There was a faint question lingering in the recesses of his mind—what was happening to him? Never could he have imagined that witnessing your struggle against him, and the realization sinking in that he had no intention of releasing you, would stir such a potent, almost primal arousal within him.

His breath brushed lightly against your skin as he drew close. His voice, low and teasing, carried a startlingly cold edge as his lips ghosted over your jaw. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Number 5 on the list, correct? ‘Use force to use me, Zayniee. Even better if u break into the apartment and scare the ever-loving shit out of me when u do this,’ in squiggly brackets with a smiley face—technically, I’m just following orders.”  You glared at him, irritation flashing in your eyes, which only earned you a cocky smirk before his lips crashed onto yours.

There was nothing gentle or tender about the kiss—something you had come to expect from Zayne. It was bruising, possessive, and all-encompassing, his mouth devouring yours as your body instinctively stiffened under his touch.

While you had indeed asked for this, the intensity of his actions caught you off guard—the thrill he was exuding from instilling fear in you left you feeling a bit queasy. His entire demeanor was different—charged with an excitement that was both unsettling and exhilarating. But mostly, it was just incredibly hot.

His dark hair framed mocking, sultry eyes, which gleamed beneath the hood of his sweatshirt as they roved over you. Dressed casually in sweats and a hoodie, with giddy eyes and tousled hair, Zayne exuded a youthful energy that starkly contrasted with his usual professional appearance.

For so long, you had wondered if it was even possible for Zayne to let go like this. Now, seeing him so unrestrained filled you with a happiness that you could barely contain.

Fear and arousal simmered within you, battling for dominance—but the fear was a relentless force churning in your stomach, no matter how hard you tried to push it away.

Your mind scrambled to remember why you ever thought this was a good idea. The notion of someone breaking into your home to assault you had quickly lost its appeal, even if the intruder was your fiance. He kept your arms pinned above your head, his weight still pressing you into the bed. You hadn’t even noticed the black bag resting there until he reached over and rummaged through it.

Your eyes widened as he pulled out a length of rope, a smile curling his lips as he caught your hesitant expression. “Zayne?” you whispered, uncertainty threading through your voice. He stayed silent, skillfully binding your hands to the headboard before you could fully comprehend what was happening. In a blur, your loose tank top and snowflake-print pajama shorts were pulled down the length of your body, a startled squeak escaping you as the fabric was roughly yanked down your legs.

Zayne’s full weight returned to settle beneath your knees, giving him an unobstructed view as his warm finger traced your folds. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and you looked away, unable to bear the sight of his finger glistening with your arousal, which he then licked clean with a grin. “It seems like you’re enjoying this more than you’re letting on, love,” he mocked, his voice dripping with amusement.

His fingers continued their exploration, sliding deep inside you, stretching you with a steady rhythm. Your hips began to grind against his hand, seemingly of their own volition. Zayne groaned lowly, his teeth closing over his lip as he watched your body’s eager reaction to him. Suddenly, he was consumed with the desire to help you push past your fear.

He captured your breast with his lips and teeth, eagerly sucking, licking and biting every inch of skin he could find. When your eyes met again, he was pleased to see that fear was slowly giving way to arousal.

His touches grew gentler, his fingers tracing soft patterns along your stomach and sides, drawing out those adorable giggles he cherished so much. His kisses became tender and lingering, no longer bruising. Hands cradled your face lovingly as his tongue danced passionately with yours. The room filled with a symphony of soft groans, gentle whimpers, and the cool night air, creating a beautiful, intimate melody. “Let’s see if we can’t make this everything you dreamed of,” he murmured against your lips, his voice softening with his touches.

The more he thought about it as his fingers traced your breasts, the more Zayne wanted this experience to be free of fear—at least for the first time. At first, he worried that his newfound tenderness wouldn’t be enough for you—but when your body relaxed beneath him, going almost limp in his hands after you released a deep sigh of pleasure and relief, his worries melted away.

His lips roamed over the marks from his earlier roughness, soothing them gently with every touch. He continued to straddle you, but his weight eased off, and his gaze sought yours with a sudden intensity.

The idea Zayne wanted to try tonight wasn’t on your lengthy list of fantasies, and he wasn’t even sure if you’d be interested—but he found himself hoping with all his heart that you would be; letting this go would be surprisingly difficult for him. A blush began to spread across his ears and cheeks as he began to speak, a faint hint of nervousness and hopefulness beneath his words. “I’ve wanted to try something new with you for as long as you’ve asked it of me,” he admitted, returning your soft smile as his hand brushed your cheek. “But I’ve struggled immensely to find something that would be pleasurable for both of us—I’m simply incapable of hurting you if it’s not appealing to me too.” Slowly, he reached for his bag and removed two small, identical items that glinted in the moonlight. Your eyes widened, locking onto him with curiosity and a tinge of returning fear as you realized what they were.

Zayne removed the protective cap from one of the scalpels, balancing it on his fingers as he turned it over slowly. His eyes, brimming with longing, drifted back to you. “If at any moment you want me to stop, I will,” he said softly, his tone unwavering. He searched your face, and the vulnerability in his expression struck you deeply. Zayne, always selfless, was rarely ever selfish, and more rarely did he ask for anything for himself. The hope in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings, and despite the fear once again coursing through you, you nodded softly, granting him the permission he sought.

His eyes sparkled with a mix of disbelief and adoration as he processed your answer, finally rewarding your trust with another passionate kiss. His lips moved to your cheeks and eyelids, pressing soft, thankful kisses as your eyes fluttered shut. He kissed you until you were breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your breasts swaying with every movement, practically begging for his attention.

“This first blade is very dull. I’ll use it to get you accustomed to the sensation before switching to the sharper one,” he explained, his calm, professional tone instantly reassuring. You nodded again, too anxious to speak, your mind racing as the metal inched closer. Your body tensed at the scalpel's cool touch, but you quickly relaxed as you realized it was merely the backside tracing a slow circle around your nipple. A groan escaped you when the dulled edge took its place, moving gently over the sensitive bud before gliding down your stomach. His hand eagerly replaced the scalpel on your breast, kneading it firmly as he continued to explore your skin; the dull blade traveling over spots you assumed the sharper one would later revisit.

As your body relaxed, you began to surrender to its unfamiliar, tantalizing sensations—the slow, deliberate dragging and tapping motions Zayne was applying with just the right amount of pressure brought you more pleasure than you'd anticipated. “How does it feel?” he whispered. “It’s… different,” you managed, your voice barely above a murmur. “But good. Really good.” A satisfied smile spread across his face as he continued his careful ministrations.

He was absolutely drunk on your reactions, and the two of you had barely even begun. Your eyes had long since drifted shut, soft sounds of ecstasy filling his ears as the blade danced across your skin. He could see it—you had completely surrendered to the pleasure he and the blade were bringing you. Setting the scalpel aside, he captured your lips in a fervent kiss, greedily devouring the beautiful noises spilling from you.

When he finally pulled back, your lips were swollen and glistening, eyes bright with excitement as you beamed up at him. The joy he felt at your newfound eagerness was overwhelming. He couldn’t decide whose excitement was greater—yours or his—as he reached for the second scalpel, a small smile playing on his lips. You couldn’t help but burst into a wide grin at the look on his face. His smile didn’t waver as he met your eyes, raising an amused eyebrow. “What?” he asked. “Nothing, it’s just… you literally look like a giddy schoolboy right now, Zayne—it’s adorable,” you teased. He huffed a gentle laugh. “Truthfully? I feel like one.” He paused. “Would you like me to untie the restraints?” You gave him an affronted look, as if he’d just asked the stupidest question of the day. “Absolutely not,” you answered firmly. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he chuckled and moved closer, the sharper scalpel glinting in the dim light. “Alright then,” he murmured. “Let’s continue.”

His fingers brushed the soft skin of your neck as he gently tilted your head to the side. His mind wandered, imagining how that first cut would feel against your flesh, and what delicious sounds you might make in response. Leaning close, his lips grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I need you to stay very still for me,” he murmured, his voice a blend of calm and command. “If you feel the need to move, let me know so I can pull back the knife first. Do you remember your safe word?” You beamed up at him, eyes sparkling with excitement as you whispered, “Yes! Now come onnn.” A note of amusement crept into his tone. “I’m not convinced you were listening,” he taunted, noticing your barely-contained squirming. “I’m not coming near you with this until you calm down.” He ran the back end of the scalpel along your arm, sending shivers through your body.

Suppressing a giggle, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to relax. The sight of Zayne holding the scalpel was insanely arousing, but you focused on your breathing, trying to ignore the hard press of his body against yours. Gradually, your muscles loosened, and your breaths evened out. Tilting your head to the side once more, he brought the scalpel near the nape of your neck. As the blade lightly traced your skin, you let out a soft sigh of pleasure. Zayne's eyes widened, fixated on the faint line forming beneath his touch. Awestruck, his fingers brushed over the mark, gaze flickering up to meet yours. Seeing your happy, aroused smile, he knew you were okay, but you didn’t give him a chance to ask. “Keep going, please,” you softly begged.

With newfound confidence, he moved the blade with precision. His focus was intense, almost trance-like, and you couldn’t help but wonder aloud if this was what he looked like during a medical procedure. Breaking your thoughts, his low voice responded, “Such a situation would be missing two crucial elements—my arousal and you. So no.” Before you could reply, your nipple was in his mouth, tongue eagerly lapping at the bud as he ground against your core. He pulled back, his fingers pinching the opposite nipple as he methodically slid the the knife across your breast. “Holy shit,” you whispered, the mix of pleasure and pain sending shivers down your spine and heat pooling between your thighs.

“More,” you breathed, heated eyes locked on the scalpel. Zayne’s hand traveled downward, and with deliberate precision, he made a cut on your lower abdomen. The sting of the pain mingled with a faint soothing sensation, causing your body to relax deeper into the comforter on a deep sigh. “You have such soft skin here,” he murmured, admiring your body beneath him. He added a few more cuts there, each one followed by gentle kisses that felt like a balm to your burning skin. Pausing, his fingers glided through your folds, playing messily in the gathering wetness. You whimpered as he circled your sensitive clit, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “You’re so wet for me,” he whispered, resting his head against yours as two long fingers slipped deep inside you, wiggling to press that sweet spot that made your back arch off the bed in sheer ecstasy. A soft laugh escaped him as he moved to kneel between your thighs, spreading them wide, his mouth replacing his hand as he devoured you like a man starved.

Tiny kisses and licks punctuated by quick, light cuts along your sensitive inner thighs intensified the experience beyond words. The initial pain was almost overwhelming, the safe word dancing on the tip of your tongue with the second cut. But then, it transformed—pain melting seamlessly into a pleasure even more intense than the last.

Zayne relished your response, pausing to savor your taste in between each pull of the blade, feeling you grow wetter and wetter on his tongue with every cut. He lingered between your thighs, mouth working fervently, fingers brushing over the shallow marks scattered across your skin. Peering up, his blissed-out gaze met yours, sending a sharp pain of need through your core. “Go ahead and come for me, love,” he commanded, his voice low and sultry, a caress in itself. His mouth found you again, hands squeezing your increasingly sensitive thighs as your hips moved eagerly against him. Whispers of his name filled the air as your walls throbbed around his tongue, your entire body succumbing to pure ecstasy. You were still floating in your high when Zayne’s cock pushed into you. Taking his time, he stretched you slowly, filling you completely, his low groans intertwining with your soft whimpers as he watched your bodies meld together.

You became a teary mess under the intensity of his thrusts, your breasts bouncing in his face as your love-drunk voice whined, “Feels so gooood when you fill me up," on a giggle. Without warning, his cock slipped out of you, and he reached above to untie the restraints. A protest was forming on your lips, but it died when he plunged back into you, stilling once he bottomed out. He took your wrist in his hand, guiding the knife just below the inside of your elbow. “Don’t look away,” he murmured. The pain in this spot was sharp, yet fleeting, replaced quickly by the throb of pleasure as his cock twitched eagerly inside you.

He'd made this cut the faintest bit deeper. Tiny beads of blood bubbled to the surface, and Zayne groaned, hips pumping into you before stopping to choose another spot. Again, the cut was controlled, precise, just deep enough to bring the smallest amount of red to the surface.

This tormenting rhythm continued—a few thrusts, then the gentle drag of the knife. It was exhilarating, made even more so by Zayne’s intense focus. His hazel eyes were bright and enchanting, a stark contrast to the rise and fall of his chest and the steadiness of his hands.

Feeling his orgasm approaching too fast, he pulled out, capturing your lips with his. “You are everything to me. You know that, right?” Your hands tangled in his hair as you nodded, deepening the kiss with a smile against his lips. He sat back on the bed, motioning for you to join him. As he lowered you onto his cock, he pushed you hard against him, your back flush with his chest. “Good girl,” he murmured, grinning when your body tightened around him in response. You began to grind softly on top of him, squeaking when you felt the backside of the knife trace the area around your shoulder blade. “Be still,” he reminded, flipping the knife to trace your skin with the edge. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before making a cut directly beneath the first one, then moving to the area between your shoulder blades.

Even as your body trembled and silent tears streamed down your cheeks, your blissed-out, dreamy expression never faltered. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, setting the blade aside to hold your hips tightly. He moved inside you, the sensation of your warm, tight cunt wrapped around his length and your ass clapping against him with each movement driving Zayne absolutely wild. Breathless utterances of his name escaped your lips, enough to ruin him completely.

He stilled within you, his hand keeping its grip on your hip to keep you from moving. The scalpel traced a delicate line down your spine, your body immediately tensing with a nauseating mix of anxiety and tension. But when Zayne removed the knife and continued to grind against you, cock pressing deeper with each movement, that tension transformed into sheer pleasure.

He kissed the fresh marks along your back. His hands wandering from your hips to your slick folds, each languid circle of his fingers promising to drive you mad. “Would it be okay if I finish inside tonight?” he murmured in your ear. You smiled, nodding eagerly—he knew the answer would always be yes, but ever the gentleman, he never stopped asking. His fingers and lips softly traced the marks left by the knife as he moved inside you, gently rubbing your swollen clit while you moved over him.

Suddenly, his hands dimpled your ass, holding you just high enough for his hips to pound into you harder. You glanced down, practically drooling at the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. When he sat you back down, you pressed hard again, forcing him deep inside as you wiggled around him. He held you close, pressing worshipful kisses along your neck and shoulders as his fingers glided through your heat with more deliberate strokes, lifting you higher and higher until you were utterly drunk on him.

Zayne's own release was approaching fast, and this time, he didn’t want to hold back. As you came undone above him, your walls pulsing wildly around his cock, he watched with rapt fascination as you gripped his thighs tightly, your release trickling around his length. Holding you open with one hand, he reached for the scalpel with the other. Neither of you breathed as the blade hovered over your glistening skin. His fingers grazed the sensitive area around your opening lightly. “This is where a group of veins drains blood from this perfect cunt,” he whispered, his voice low and controlled. Gently, he made a tiny cut, just enough to part your skin and bring the pretty beads of red to the surface. You whimpered and gripped him tight as his cock pulsed inside you, coating you with his warm essence. His thumb idly played with the little cut until you had milked him dry.

Leaning against him, you both tried to calm down, his arm holding you tight as he rocked you gently. “Well, was our first time trying something new everything you thought it would be?” he teased. You nodded enthusiastically. “And more. Your idea was far better than anything I came up with.” His breath was a warm puff against your hair as he chuckled softly. Lifting you off him, he stood before scooping you up in his arms. Meeting your quizzical stare with an amused one, he explained, “We need to get cleaned up so I can treat your wounds before bed.” Your eyes turned imploring, using that voice you always did when trying to get your way. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed his cheek and grinned. “Maybe after we clean up, you could show me how to do some of that to you…” Zayne’s response was immediate, his tone leaving no room for negotiation—“Absolutely not.”

[lulu-nightbon]

alright, i... didn't want to do this. i didn't want to have to do this. especially with all the hate ive been getting in my inbox recently. but i don't have a choice.

hi. im lulu. im a 21-year-old autistic immunocompromised queer person. i currently live with my mother (senior) and my little sister (10 years old). i need your help to get out.

(context and avenues to help below the cut)

as some of you may know, my stepfather died on august sixth from a heart attack. we lived in his parents basement, as it was all we could afford, and we depended on his income. he had a stable job, and mom decided to become a housewife and sell some things from the buisness they created together. when he died, the buisness was dissolved, as it was an llc partnership. his parents are extremely controlling, and as such, he was only able to finally start building up credit when mom came along, and we were almost at the point where he could qualify for a home loan so we could get out and get away from his parents.

that's gone now.

mom cannot qualify for a home loan because of her student loan payments and the credit card payments. we do not have the money to pay these off, and mom is trying desperately to get a job. we need the money to get out, as my stepfather's parents have been trying to get my sister away from my mom and shove both her and i out of the family for years. things are only getting worse now as we have reason to believe they are spying on our conversations and even going so far as tracking us (for example, they found a spare key to the car and went and took it and "cleaned it out" without mom's knowledge or permission, as it's her car now). they have been trying to circumvent mom and go behind her back during the entire process with the funeral home, coroner's office, all the legal documentation, and they are extremely infuriated that they cannot decide anything or push mom out because they are not the next of kin and have been trying to circumvent this. we have reason to believe that they're going to attempt to sell the cars that are still in my stepfather's name to collect on the money and never give us a dime, like they had with almost all of the money my little sister received as part of the college fund we set up at my stepfather's funeral as well as any money that my little sister had won in the past. we will never see a dime of it, and it's extremely upsetting that they are doing this. they have been running scams for years, and they have been nothing but hellish towards my mother, claiming she's withholding information from them when she has offered more than they've asked for and they have done nothing but take my little sister out and about without ever telling mom anything (for example- they screamed that mom was withholding information when she said she didn't copy the tox report for them because it was empty and claimed they needed to know his cholesterol levels [which doesn't even show up on a tox report- they didn't run his blood, either, and they didn't check his cholesterol levels anyway because they know that's what killed him, they could see it] and would not provide reasoning why [it does not affect them anyway just by nature of it being cholesterol], while on sunday they took my little sister out the whole day and failed to communicate with my mother that she would be with them and would be home after dinner).

they have been screaming at mom for collecting social security as though she was stealing their money and demanded that she doesn't get a job, and we have more than enough reason to believe that they are trying to get her to default on the bills so they finally have legal grounds to take my little sister and kick us out, leaving us with nowhere to go and no options. they have even gone as far as to threaten to take my sister away using force in the past, and, as they have firearms, that is a terrifying threat. they are unhinged and extremely upset that they cannot control us and make us do what they want, how they want, when they want, and they are up in arms over it.

when we move out, all hell is going to break loose, but the longer we wait, the worse it's going to get.

my stepfather, being 37 when he died, did not like thinking about his own mortality, so he didn't have a life insurance policy, a 401K, a will, nothing. we have been left high and dry by his death, and that is pushing aside the grief. we do not have the money to pay off the bills, pay for a lawyer, pay to have the car re-keyed to keep them from stealing it again, or to even flat-out buy a house to circumvent needing a loan, and on top of it all we have to deal with stepfather's parents not allowing us to grieve and implying that mom is a tramp and a heartless bitch that will blow any money given to her when she is more financially responsible than them. we also have to worry about them stealing our things, especially with how much they complain about how messy the basement is when most of the things here are theirs (stepfather's parents are hoarders- more specifically, his father hoards cars, and his mother hoards everything else, going out and shopping frivolously almost every day).

we need help with money, and i hate to ask, especially with the requirement of revealing my legal name and in light of the harassment i have been receiving for over a month now, but we need to get out of here, and we need to get out of here soon. it's only going to get worse the longer we stay. we need money to help with the bills, my mom's student loans, getting a lawyer, and getting a place to move into.

im posting this because im the only one my stepfather's parents won't find on any platform that i choose to use. my current goal is $9,000 USD, if only just to get enough money to get a cheap plot of land to move into, or one of the really cheap houses out here. this won't cover the loans or bills in addition, or the cost of getting a lawyer or anything else we need, but it is enough to get us a cheap place to live. i know it's a lot of money, but we are in a dangerous situation and need the money to escape. if we were to pay for everything, the goal would be in the hundreds of thousands, and i feel horrible just asking for this much. if you can't donate, please reblog, even the visibility might help and please do not spread my legal name. please remember to put "payment" or something generic in the reasoning box if it's required so that i will actually receive the funds instead of having my account purged from the site. i didn't want to ask for this, but i have no other options. please help.

c*sh*pp: $lulunightbon

v*nm*: @Lulilial

Goal: $0/$9,000