#love writing these

[nahoyasboyfriend]

thinking about collaring James. it would be so pretty, black leather with a silver nameplate that's shaped like a dog bone. the name tag jolts forward with every thrust of his hips. he fucks you with carnal need, a desperateness that filters through with every harsh thrust. his body covered in a thin layer of sweat. it's exhilarating to see James so pent up, pathetically humping into you. he's donning the mask he usually wears when he murdering someone. it makes him unrecognizable, and in a sick way, you enjoyed how horrifying he looked. his grunts are distorted by the leather, making him sound animalistic. inhuman, even. feral and unhinged, driven by need and nothing else. and if you didn't have his leash clutched in your hand, it would've been scary.

his hips stuttered, and you tugged his leash hard, "Don't. cum."

he lets out a pitiful whine, and it makes your cunt flutter around his cock. he sounds so needy. you can feel his pace faltering, probably in an attempt to keep himself from teetering over the edge.

you frown, "don't slow down."

you can fill the way his cock twitches inside of you. he's so close, close enough that if you told him to cum, he could. he could just snatch it, cum deep inside of warm, wet pussy. but James had promised, assured you that he'd play by your rules. that was before he had known that your rules would be so deliciously cruel. he doesn't know how long you have kept him on edge, pent up with no release, but he was certain it had been at least half an hour. he was so hard it hurt, his only motive was to cum as soon as possible. it repeated in his head like a broken record. and you looked so beautiful for such a devilish girl, you mouth agape from the pleasure, your boobs bouncing everywhere time his hips met yours, but the view only tortured him further. it was utterly infuriating.

sifting through ways he could convince you to take mercy on him, he searched for things he hadn't tried before. James was never one to beg for anything he wanted, he was above it. if he wanted something he'd earn it or if it was within his reach he'd simply take it. however with neither of those options available, he realized he'd have to swallow his pride, just this once, and only to you.

"dearest, let me cum. I'm asking," he paused, rethinking his word choice. "no, I'm begging you, please."

and with the sweetest smile he'd ever seen. you reply with a curt, "no."

his voice may have been warped by the mask, but the neediness was so distinct, dripping from every syllable. it was addicting. James, who's usually so calm and collected, was falling apart at the seams.

at this realization, your orgasm rushed at you like a bullet. unexpectedly and unrelenting. your back arched off the bed, "keep going, James" and "don't stop" were the only words that left your mouth. the band in your tummy snaps, and you're already gushing around him. it's mesmerizing to James, you're so pretty when you unravel beneath him, but he can't help but be annoyed that he isn't cumming with you.

when you catch your breath, you mumble, "make me cum again, and I'll let you cum."

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.

[sleeplessv0id]

what doesn't kill you makes you weird at intimacy

[kawareo]

screaming, crying, throwing up, as I force myself to write a story i'm very passionate about and love writing and have no obligation to write except that i want to

[two-bees-poetry]

twenty years across the sea

[soul-from-another-era]

Unconditional love isn't a free pass to hurt me.

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories

[flowrrs4u]

I am good. I am loved.

[ptimepoet]

- Clementine Von Radics

[evidently-endless]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

[palatial-monstrosity]

the self care industry will sell you face masks and teas and whatnot so i'm here to remind you not to forget the most important self care activity which is masturbation

[daughterofchaosstuff]

done healing my inner child. next up is my inner teen. her highness demands a sword.

[almondpiglet]

ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!

[abreathlessplace]

"i wonder if we ever think of each other at the same time."

[authenticity2025]