smutguardian-blog

[smutguardian-blog]

Jeremwood drabble

Listen, @ryanthepowerbottomguy posted this pic of Ryan, and things went inevitably down hill... It's late, Stage 5 is empty, the broadcast crew are long gone. But still there's the chance, the possibility that someone will return. The vast open space of the set, and the black, cold eyes of the cameras make Ryan shiver, exposed. He flexes his hands, testing the give in the cuffs around his wrists. There's no escaping.

Jeremy smirks at his fidgeting, drawing his hands across the high table, leaving his bare chest stretched over the cool varnished wood. Ryan's nipples peak, and he squirms again.

'You're not going to stay still unless I tie you there, are you?' Jeremy says.

'I want to be good,' Ryan protests, already knowing that he's going to move without meaning to.

Jeremy just nods. 'I know you do. You're always so good, but you squirm too much. I want you still.'

He loops a length of rope through the rings on Ryan's cuffs and pulls him tightly down against the table, tying him to the steel frame on the other side.

'Now you can let go and you won't go anywhere,' Jeremy says, stroking up the taut muscles of Ryan's outstretched arms.

He caresses Ryan's biceps, then ruffles over his hair and squeezes the back of his neck. Ryan goes limp, moaning slightly at the pressure, the strength in Jeremy's hands. He loves it when Jeremy foregoes the rope and holds him down, but Jeremy's hands are busy today.

'I think that camera is still on,' Jeremy notes casually, looking over at the close-up camera. He makes no move to go and check, or to turn it off, and Ryan shudders. 'Guess you better pose real pretty just in case.'

He steps back, sweeping his hands down Ryan's bent back to his bare ass, giving it a light slap. It stings, a sudden shock after the soft caress, and Ryan moans quietly.

'So pretty,' Jeremy murmurs, and Ryan feels the heat of his body move away slightly.

There's a creak of leather, the faint brush of the soft but unyielding crop just grazing his skin, the barest tease.

'I want you to count for me babe,' Jeremy orders.

Ryan holds his breath and turns his eyes to the camera, then the first strike sets his world on fire...

[smutguardian-blog]

Moonrise

Commission for @ryanthepowerbottomguy Wordcount: 2239 Tags: Jeremwood, Werewolves, Dom!Jeremy/Sub!Ryan, overstimulation, crying, blood, choking, knotting.

They keep a lunar calender pinned to the wall of the office, next to the GO! board, but none of them really need it. If they want to know how close they are to the next full moon, Ryan’s behaviour will tell them every time.

Jeremy shares the same wolfish blood as the gent, but he grew up in a city, and learned to control himself early as a result. Ryan spent his younger years running wild across half of Georgia, and sitting still at a desk when the moon is creeping towards full sets his skin to itching and his knees to bouncing.

Two days to the full moon, and his behaviour is bordering on wild. He snarls at Gavin when he loses at Towerfall (again), yips with laughter at Jack’s dismay when his carefully tended farm falls prey to creepers, and all but whines audibly if Jeremy ignores him for more than ten minutes at a time.

They finally get Minecraft finished at four thirty, and Geoff throws his controller down with relief.

‘For fuck’s sake, Jeremy, take him home and calm him down. I can’t stand the puppy eyes he’s giving you.’

Ryan grins unrepentantly, his tongue poking out between his teeth. He turns wide, begging eyes on Jeremy, and whines low in his throat when Jeremy bares his teeth in promise.

‘Bet you fifty bucks they don’t make it home before the pants come off,’ Michael predicts. He gets no takers – it doesn’t take a full moon to get Jeremy to strip on a dare.

Ryan shuts his station down in record time, twitching and wriggling in anticipation, the full body expression of his currently absent tail. He hauls Jeremy out of the office as soon as the lad is out of his seat, waving a careless goodbye to the rest of AH.

‘It’s a strong one, huh?’ Jeremy says conversationally, letting Ryan lead him to their car. ‘Supermoon months always get you going.’

Ryan has no idea how his mate is managing to sound so calm when he feels like bursting out of his ill-fitting human skin, but he supposes that Jeremy is in charge for a reason. One of them has to have some sense of decorum – at least until they’re alone. He thinks of how Jeremy’s behaviour changes when they’re behind closed doors, and shivers happily.

Jeremy rumbles approvingly as Ryan lets off a wave of excited pheromones.

‘Not long, love. Let’s get you home.’

With supernatural effort Ryan gets all the way into their bedroom – two closed doors away from the delicate eyes of the public – before he tears his shirt off and scrabbles at his pants, fingernails lengthening into short, hard claws as his rising instincts send him into a partial shift.

His tail, always the first thing to change, is cramped and painful in his jeans, and he whines in frustration when he can’t get rid of his hateful pants.

‘Silly puppy,’ Jeremy teases, when he finds himself defeated by the fiddly zipper. He steps in close, warmth and good smell and affection that makes Ryan huff happily, and with his help the offending clothes disappear.

Jeremy wastes no time in stripping himself down in turn, using the last of his human patience to set his crucifix carefully on the dresser, then he shakes himself, loosening his muscles and his iron control at once.

His dark chest hair thickens and spreads, his fingernails harden, and his posture drops into a low-slung fighting stance, ready to spring into a full shift at a moment’s notice. When he looks up to meet Ryan’s eager gaze, his eyes are gold and feral.

‘Mine,’ he growls, and Ryan inhales the intoxicating scent of Jeremy’s desire. His mate wants him, wants to fuck him, and he knows his own skin is echoing lust right back.

‘Mine,’ he agrees happily, his wagging tail smacking loudly against the side of the mattress.

Jeremy reaches out and drags him forward, tumbling them together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and tails and heat and YES, the rasp of Jeremy’s chest pelt against his own, the muted pain of blunt claws as Jeremy rakes his back, and Ryan wants to howl already.

They’ve barely touched and it’s already so much, so good to let go with the moon pulling and pulling at his body, telling him to change, telling him that human bodies are weak and dull and senseless.

He buries his face under Jeremy’s chin and inhales, gasping for every hint of the musky sweat and sugar cocktail that sends his head spinning. He licks at the base of Jeremy’s throat, drinking him in, and Jeremy growls at the danger of teeth at his jugular.

The smaller werewolf flips them with ease, landing Ryan on his back, Jeremy’s left hand around his throat, his right holding Ryan’s hands over his head.

Jeremy’s solid weight pinning him down sends a surge of want through Ryan’s body, and his cock twitches against Jeremy’s ass.

‘Challenge?’ Jeremy growls, flexing his hand around Ryan’s throat.

Ryan tilts his head back further, letting Jeremy do as he pleases, panting desperately at the promise of more.

‘No. Yours,’ he promises, staring up at Jeremy with naked adoration. Jeremy is his life, and his life belongs to Jeremy.

Jeremy flexes his fingers around Ryan’s throat again, and it might as well be a conduit straight to his dick. Ryan whines, cutting off into a rasp as Jeremy snarls and squeezes harder.

Blood roars in his ears, euphoria rising as his brain struggles for oxygen. White flashes in the corners of his eyes, and when Jeremy suddenly lets up, the rush of returning blood is like coming and dying all at once.

He goes boneless, limbs heavy and far off, moaning quietly with every delicious inhale.

Jeremy looks down at his submissive mate and rumbles his satisfaction, leaning down to rake his teeth over Ryan’s chest. The sharp incisors hurt more than his blunt claws, and Ryan cries out as he draws blood in shallow channels.

Jeremy’s tongue laves over the cuts, branding hot, and Ryan writhes under him, pushing his chest out in search of more contact and trying to burrow away through the mattress at once.

Jeremy bends and kisses him as he pants and wails, and the iron taste of Ryan’s blood is thick on his tongue.

He loses himself, letting Jeremy alternate kisses and bites that leave him bleeding and desperate, savouring the taste of his own blood and the salt-sweet scent of Jeremy’s arousal in the air.

It’s too much, and not enough, and eventually he can’t wait any longer.

‘Please, please, more,’ he begs, when Jeremy breaks away from another long, drugging kiss. His pupils are blown wide, blackness swallowing the gold of his eyes, and Ryan thinks wonderingly that he has the most beautiful mate in the world.

He lifts his hips, grinding against Jeremy’s ass, and they growl in unison at the contact.

‘More,’ Jeremy agrees, and grabs the pump-bottle of lube from the side table. He shifts down the bed and spreads Ryan’s legs with strong hands, pinning him wide open and kneeling in place.

He drizzles cool slick over Ryan’s hole, drawing a yip of surprise as the hot skin puckers in protest.

Clawed hands aren’t the safest option for fingering, but Jeremy has had practice, and Ryan opens easily at his touch, all but sucking his fingers inside as his body demands more. The slight drag and catch of Jeremy’s claws hurts in the best way, and Ryan shifts down the bed, groaning and tilting his hips up.

Jeremy huffs and bends close, licking a firm stripe up the underside of Ryan’s cock, lingering on the faint bulge of his knot.

Ryan howls, pressing his face into the pillow to muffle the sound, and Jeremy laughs and licks him again, setting his cock leaking and twitching with pleasure.

‘In, in, in,’ Ryan begs, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as a twist of Jeremy’s fingers sets his core on fire.

‘When I say,’ Jeremy counters with steel in his voice, and keeps stroking his insides without mercy.

Ryan shakes his head, grinding his face into the pillow, his whole body clenching and relaxing in time with the cruel, glorious strokes of Jeremy’s fingers. He’s on fire, he’s melting, and still Jeremy keeps stoking the flame, slowly and steadily driving him out of his mind.

He can’t keep his eyes open, can’t stand the predatory, pleased look on Jeremy’s face without feeling like he’s going to explode, and he can feel heat gathering under his eyelids as the torture drags on.

He’s whining with every stroke, breaking into desperate, pleading little howls as the stroke, stroke, stroke against his prostate banks the fire. His whole body is drawing up tight, rushing towards immolation, and his breath comes in short, sharp bursts that set fresh blood running in burning trickles down his chest. Hot tears leak from the corners of his eyes and soak the pillow with salt as Jeremy destroys him.

‘Come,’ Jeremy growls, pressing down hard inside him and holding, and Ryan howls aloud as he shatters.

Cum splatters across his chest, catching in his pelt, stinging in his wounds, and the roar of blood in his ears deafens him for long moments as he gasps through the wave of pleasure.

Jeremy waits, his fingers still, until Ryan’s muscles unlock and let him free.

‘Good boy,’ Jeremy praises, stroking his trembling thighs, and Ryan shudders. There is more to come, and he is already so broken that he can only lie and wait for Jeremy to do as he pleases.

He is still shaking, still sobbing quietly, when he feels hot, slick skin rubbing down below his balls, teasing at his entrance.

‘Please,’ he sobs, wanting to curl away, wanting to open himself wide, wanting the sensation to stop and to continue forever.

Jeremy rumbles soothingly and presses inexorably in, splitting Ryan open with his thick cock, driving the breath out of him all over again.

It’s so much, it’s so much, and Ryan feels fresh tears spill down his cheeks.

‘Such a good boy, so pretty,’ Jeremy murmurs, pushing in and in and in until Ryan thinks he can feel him in his throat, he’s so full.

He’s Jeremy’s to fuck, to use, and he clenches weakly around him, wanting to be as good as Jeremy deserves. He gasps aloud at the sensation and goes limp again, too sensitive to do anything but take what Jeremy gives him.

Jeremy rocks against him, rumbling and groaning in delight as Ryan’s fucked-out body strokes every inch of his cock.

He gradually speeds up, fucking in harder as he chases his own peak, and every thrust jolts through Ryan, pushing him up the bed and dragging him back as Jeremy digs his claws into Ryan’s hips and skewers him in place.

He is helpless prey, at Jeremy’s mercy, and the thought sends fresh lust curling through Ryan’s core. He’s hard again, aching and tender, and every brush of Jeremy’s body against his dick makes him cry out.

The base of Jeremy’s cock is thickening, spreading Ryan even wider as his knot forms, and it’s all Ryan can do to breathe when it pops in and out, teasing his stretched hole with every stroke.

‘Gonna knot, fill you up,’ Jeremy promises, and Ryan shudders.

‘So good for me. Gonna come for me?’ Jeremy asks, but Ryan has no idea if he can even manage that without losing his mind, and he makes a disbelieving noise between his teeth.

‘Yeah you can, Ryan, come for me,’ Jeremy orders, and presses his palm to Ryan’s dick as he grinds deep inside, his knot filling and locking against Ryan’s rim. He throws his head back, stutters his hips once more, and comes with a rumbling howl of triumph.

The first splash of Jeremy’s cum is like fire inside him, and Ryan cries out and comes, helpless against the pleasure-pain of over stimulation.

Jeremy collapses over him, chest to chest, hot cum still spilling inside Ryan’s body, and he feels like Jeremy is the only thing anchoring him to reality. His mind is gone, floating on a haze of endorphins, and he’s barely aware of Jeremy licking at the tears that are pouring down his cheeks.

They lie together, panting, almost steaming as their bodies cool, and Jeremy’s lazily wagging tail wafts fresher air over them both.

Ryan can’t move for a long time. He savours the fullness of Jeremy’s cum inside him, the pressure of his knot sending aftershocks through Ryan’s body as it pulses, the sting of the already-healing wounds where Jeremy has marked him. He is claimed, inside and out, and he wishes that werewolf healing weren’t quite so efficient. Carrying Jeremy’s marks might help keep him sane when the moon is calling too strongly.

Jeremy is sleepy and content after knotting his mate, and when Ryan finally comes back to himself enough to pet his shaggy head, he huffs quietly.

‘So good for me,’ he says, licking Ryan’s neck with possessive affection.

‘I love you,’ Ryan says, his voice wrecked with howling.

Jeremy’s tail wags even harder, and Ryan smiles.

[smutguardian-blog]

Silk Touch

Wordcount: 1642 Tags: Gents OT3, Trans man Jack, Dom Jack/Sub Ryan/Sub Geoff, bondage, panties.

'Look at him, Geoff,' Jack murmurs, his voice a hot brush against Geoff's ear that sends a shiver down his spine. 'Isn't he beautiful?'

Geoff nods, his throat thick with lust.

On the bed, Ryan moans, the pale blue silk of his panties darkening as his cock pulses. He's on his knees, his hips thrust obscenely forward towards them, begging wordlessly to be touched. He isn't gagged, but Jack has ordered him not to speak, and the desire to please his Dom is more effective than any gag. Soft black ropes pin his crossed arms behind his back, denying him the power to touch for himself.

He's quite the picture, and no matter how many times he's seen Ryan this way, Geoff always feels a little unreal at first. Ryan is gorgeous, and getting to look at him, getting to touch and tease and fuck him at Jack's direction is the greatest gift Geoff could have.

Geoff shivers again as Jack presses closer against his back, holding him up with ease, both of them stripped to their boxers in the middle of the thick rug. He can feel the heat of Jack's cunt against his ass, and it's that intimacy as much as Jack's fingers teasing at his cloth-covered dick that has him gasping.

'F-fuck,' Geoff chokes out, grinding back against Jack to hear him rumble in pleasure.

'Yeah? You want to fuck our boy?' Jack says. 'He's being very good, isn't he? Trussed up so pretty and making a filthy mess in his nice new panties. I think I'll make him lick them clean before I let him put his mouth to proper use.'

Ryan's eyes slide shut and he moans again, his hips jerking involuntarily at the suggestion.

Jack chuckles. 'I think our lovely boy likes that idea.'

'I like that idea,' Geoff mumbles, blood rushing south until he's lightheaded with it.

Jack laughs. 'Any excuse to watch Ryan suck on something. I swear your oral fixation is as bad as his is, you slut.' He punctuates the word with a sudden squeeze around Geoff's dick, punching a strangled, desperate noise out of him.

'Please, Jack,' Geoff begs, bucking his hips forward involuntarily. 'Tell me what to do and I'll do it, I swear.'

'I know you will, sweetie,' Jack soothes, wrapping his thick arms around Geoff and squeezing tight enough that Geoff melts into the embrace. 'Lovely as he is, I think it's time we got Ryan out of those panties, don't you?'

Ryan makes a wordless noise of enthusiastic agreement, and Jack shushes him.

'Be good, Ryan. You're doing so well, don't spoil it.'

Ryan stays silent, dipping his chin in submission, his breathing evening out as he willingly sinks deeper into his headspace. What Jack wants, Jack gets.

Jack guides Geoff to help Ryan gently onto his back, his knees obscenely spread, and between them they peel off Ryan's damp silk panties. His cock bobs urgently, slapping against his soft stomach and drawing a tiny gasp and a roll of his hips.

'Open your mouth, pet,' Jack commands, his voice low but implacable.

Ryan keeps his eyes closed and opens his mouth, pink tongue poking out just a little, seeking his prize.

Jack leans down and presses the wet patch of silk to Ryan's lips, watching with burning eyes as Ryan sucks hard on the fabric, tasting his own pre-cum.

Geoff palms himself desperately, leaking in his own boxers at the broken, needy noise Ryan makes.

'You taste so good, sweetheart,' Jack praises. 'It's only fair that you get to taste yourself too.'

Geoff rocks on his knees on the bed, grinding the heel of his hand down against his cock and panting, lost in the sight of Ryan, bound and pliant, sucking at his own mess like a starving man.

'Jack, please, please let me fuck him. God, look at him!'

Jack turns his hungry eyes on Geoff and nods. 'Take off your boxers and get the lube. Don't rush - we don't want to hurt him. This time.'

Ryan shudders at that last, and Geoff freezes for a moment, enjoying an instant memory replay of their rougher evenings. Ryan is so pale that the slightest blow will mark him, and he loves every stripe that Jack is kind enough to grant him.

His cock throbs and he shakes himself, slipping off the bed to shuck his boxers and grab the lube from the bedside table.

Jack is kneeling at Ryan’s side, his thumb rubbing slowly and tortuously over Ryan’s pebbled nipple, drawing muffled moans and beads of pre-cum from their prisoner.

Geoff slicks his fingers and strokes Ryan’s inner thigh in warning before he slides one in, relishing the way Ryan opens up, still loose and relaxed from their lazy afternoon fuck on the couch.

It’s not going to take much prep, the way Ryan is all but dragging his fingers inside, but Geoff still takes it slow, spreading lube generously around Ryan’s pink hole.

It’s worth it for the way Ryan’s breathing speeds up, the silk over his face fluttering, his head tossing against the pillows as though he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

‘I think that’s enough,’ Jack says, when Ryan is whining between his teeth on every exhale. ‘Give it to him hard, I want you to rock him into me.’

Jack stands up long enough to shed his boxers, and returns to kneel beside Ryan’s shoulder. He peels the wet silk away from Ryan’s face and finds him hazy-eyed and almost insensible, his pupils round as pennies.

‘So beautiful,’ Jack murmurs, caressing Ryan’s cheek. ‘Are you going to be good and take care of me while Geoff fucks you?’

Ryan doesn’t answer, still maintaining his vow of silence, but his tongue darts out and he licks his lips, looking eagerly to the slight mound between Jack’s thighs.

‘Such a lovely boy,’ Jack praises, stroking Ryan’s hair. He kneels up and straddles Ryan’s face, sinking down slowly, rocking his hips and sighing when Ryan’s eager tongue finds his folds.

‘Fuck him, Geoff. Make us both feel it.’

Geoff tears his gaze away from the gorgeous sight of Jack riding Ryan’s face for long enough to guide his cock inside, moaning at the scorching heat of Ryan’s body.

‘God, you’re a furnace,’ he grinds out, focusing with all his might on not cumming immediately. It’s been a long tease, and the clutch of Ryan’s body is almost too much.

He fights back from the edge and starts a rhythm, sliding in deep and grinding his hips against Ryan, panting as sparks explode behind his eyes.

Jack leans back and moans, pinching his nipples, and Geoff leans forward to meet him, planting open-mouthed kisses along his broad shoulder.

‘So good, Ryan,’ Jack praises. ‘That’s it, right there!’

Ryan shudders at the praise, and Geoff feels it right to the base of his spine, an electric tremor that he desperately wants again.

He pushes harder, speeding up his pace, lifting Ryan’s knees so he can slide in deep and hard, and Ryan’s body goes taut, his cock jumping between them.

He clenches down around Geoff, and Geoff swears.

‘I can’t, I can’t,’ he warns, wanting Jack to cum first.

‘You can, you’re ok, you’re so good,’ Jack pants, grinding down on Ryan’s face, rocking with Geoff’s motion, his thighs going tense.

‘So close,’ Jack moans. ‘Ryan, make me cum.’

Whatever Ryan does with his talented tongue, it does the trick. Jack arches and cries out, his solid muscles flexing and twitching as he cums on Ryan’s face.

Ryan moans, muffled and desperate, glorying in the taste of him, and it barely takes another thrust before he’s cumming in response, clenching around Geoff and drawing him in.

‘Fuck, fuck!’ Geoff grits out, circling his hips once more, and then the iron heat of Ryan’s muscles drags the orgasm out of him in a rush. He cums hot and hard into Ryan, white flashing behind his eyes, almost helpless with the sudden pleasure.

It’s a long moment of quiet as they pant and shudder together, muscles finally relaxing, and as always it’s Jack who recovers first.

He slides off onto the mattress, revealing Ryan’s blissed out, soaked face, and a sudden, stunning aftershock hits Geoff at the sight.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he gasps out. ‘So good.’

Jack hums in agreement, running his hand through Ryan’s hair.

‘Come up here and lick him clean,’ he orders, and Geoff can barely wait to slide free before he’s crawling up Ryan’s sticky, sweat-slick body.

He licks and sucks desperately at Ryan’s pleasure-slack face, lost in the salt-sweet musk of Jack’s slick, locking lips with Ryan and kissing him, sharing the taste between their mouths like an offering.

‘My boys, my gorgeous boys,’ Jack sighs, caressing the back of Geoff’s neck. ‘You’re so good to me.’

Geoff kisses Ryan until the taste of Jack is almost gone, slowing down to lazy tongue tangling and shared breaths as the frenzy of arousal recedes.

Jack lies beside them, his body an anchoring line of heat, his hand heavy in Geoff’s hair, reminding them both who they belong to.

Ryan eventually shifts and stretches under him, blinking as he begins to return from the depths of his headspace.

Jack props him up for a moment, shifting both of them with an ease that Geoff will never not find hopelessly sexy. He deftly undoes the quick-release knots around Ryan’s wrists and elbows, sliding the ropes gently away and helping Ryan bring his arms forward to hold Geoff close.

They lie back down together, Geoff half on top of both of them, and despite the wet spots and the prickle of cooling sweat, Geoff knows that this is a perfect moment.

[smutguardian-blog]

Freefall

Wordcount: 1844 Tags/Warnings: Jeremwood, Dom Jeremy/Sub Ryan, Trans!Ryan, bondage, painplay, overstimulation, choking.

He’s lying, blindfolded and helpless, his hands bound above his head, his legs spread and tethered to the corners of the mattress, and he can’t help but turn his head and listen, tracking Jeremy by the faint rustle of his clothes as he strips.

The wide leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles are soft against his skin, but even the slightest attempt at movement proves their strength. He’s not going anywhere until Jeremy sets him free, and that knowledge makes him shiver.

Wet heat pools between his legs, and he wants to squeeze his thighs together, to get some relief and to hide himself. He is pinned and spread like a butterfly, his secrets open to the world, and he knows Jeremy will be able to see how ready he is, how much he already wants him. He is so used to hiding that the exposed position is almost unbearable.

The room is cool, or perhaps his skin is feverish with anticipation. He can’t have been waiting more than a minute, but it feels like hours already. The cuffs help to ground him, but without his sight he feels himself slipping. He needs something more, or he’s going to get lost.

‘Touch me,’ he pleads, tugging at his cuffs to feel them dig into his limbs. ‘Jeremy, please touch me, I need it.’

Jeremy huffs, the ghost of a laugh. ‘It’s been thirty seconds, babe. I haven’t even got my socks off.’

Ryan lies and listens to him scrambling out of his clothes, hands flexing almost without his direction, ankles straining at his cuffs as he tries to close his legs.

Just as he’s about to start begging, the mattress dips, and he can feel the warmth of Jeremy’s skin as he kneels between Ryan’s legs.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ Jeremy murmurs, running one hand up the inside of Ryan’s thigh. The soft skin tingles at his touch, rough hands moving so carefully, and Ryan whines between his teeth.

‘Shh, I’ve got you,’ Jeremy promises. He shifts up the bed, planting his hands on either side of Ryan’s head and holding his weight effortlessly, keeping the heat of his skin maddeningly close and yet not touching Ryan at all.

His face is so close that Ryan can feel the hot puff of his breath, making him shiver and crane his face upwards. Jeremy moves with him, always staying just an inch out of reach, humming with amusement as Ryan blindly seeks him.

‘Touch me, please, please,’ Ryan begs, and breaks off into a moan when Jeremy relents and leans down to kiss him. The slow, wet slide of their lips is a lifeline, and Ryan opens his mouth and chases Jeremy’s tongue, determined to catch him, to keep him close.

Jeremy lets him, willingly deepening the kiss, and for long minutes Ryan lets his entire world narrow down to that breathless contact, his lips tingling as he runs short of air, heat spreading and pooling in his core. His limbs tremble as he strains against his bonds, trying to wrap his arms and legs around Jeremy and keep him.

All too soon, Jeremy retreats, and Ryan whines, wordless in his desperation.

‘Shh, Ryan, be good,’ Jeremy chides, and Ryan shudders.

‘I’ll be good, I’ll be so good,’ he promises. ‘Please fuck me, I’ll be so good.’

Jeremy growls, shifting down to press his face against Ryan’s chest. ‘I know you will, you always feel perfect. I love how hot you are inside, how eager you are to get fucked.’

He rubs his face against Ryan’s chest, his short beard prickling and burning against Ryan’s skin, and Ryan strains upwards, arching against his cuffs, chasing the sensation.

Jeremy runs his tongue along the sensitive scars on Ryan’s chest, and Ryan’s voice cracks on a moan. It hurts, the scar tissue quickly overstimulated, and he bucks and whines, not sure if he wants it to stop or go on forever.

‘Jeremy, it hurts!’ he gasps, and Jeremy chuckles.

‘You’re gorgeous when you’re in pain,’ he says, and presses his tongue even harder against the left-hand scar, lapping his way along it.

Ryan cries out, writhing against his cuffs, electric shocks of sensation radiating through his body.

‘Please, oh please!’ he begs, when Jeremy reaches the end of the scar and stops for a moment. Ryan pants, the rush of pleasure after pain making him weak, and he’s grateful for the soft mattress that cradles his bones.

‘Please what?’ Jeremy asks, running his fingertips up Ryan’s ribs. The delicate touch is ticklish, and it lights up Ryan’s nerves all over again.

‘Please hurt me, please fuck me,’ Ryan pants, not sure which he wants more, or if there’s even a difference.

‘You’re so good to me,’ Jeremy growls, and then he’s lapping along the right-hand scar and Ryan is drowning in the pain.

Ryan gasps and whines, squirming under Jeremy’s solid weight, torn between pressing upwards and trying helplessly to get away. He tracks Jeremy’s progress, knowing the scar isn’t more than a few inches long, knowing it can’t last forever, but it still feels like forever.

Jeremy pauses for an instant at the end of the scar, and Ryan thinks it’s over, but Jeremy quickly kisses his way up to Ryan’s nipple and latches his teeth over the tight bud.

Ryan howls, the sudden shock of pain tearing through him, and he feels a fresh wave of heat between his legs. God, he must be soaking the sheet, he’s so desperate.

‘No more, please, I can’t,’ he sobs, and Jeremy leans close and kisses him, little butterfly kisses against his panting mouth.

‘I’ve got you baby, you’re doing so well.’

He shifts down the bed, kneeling up between Ryan’s legs, and ghosts his fingers up the insides of Ryan’s trembling thighs.

‘You’re so wet, Ryan,’ he says, his voice full of wonder, and Ryan flushes, turning his head to try and hide his face under his arm. He’s never trusted anyone else enough to be exposed and restrained like this, and Jeremy’s wonder still feels like a dream.

‘No, don’t hide from me,’ Jeremy says, and a strong hand tilts his chin, holding his face where Jeremy can see it. Jeremy’s thumb presses under his jaw, and Ryan can feel his pulse beating against the pressure.

Jeremy tightens his grip, and Ryan’s head tilts back instinctively, inviting, craving the rush of euphoria.

‘Fuck, you’re perfect,’ Jeremy growls, and he presses down, squeezing just enough to set the blood roaring in Ryan’s ears.

Ryan lies suspended, mouth open and panting for breath, his brain crying out for oxygen, and the darkness behind the blindfold flashes with colour.

Jeremy relents just as Ryan begins to twitch and jerk, his body fighting without his permission.

The sudden rush of blood into his brain feels like falling, like the ecstatic moment of freefall before opening a parachute, and he pants helplessly, moaning quietly with every exhale.

‘So fucking beautiful. God, I wish I could see your eyes, I bet your pupils are so wide right now. You love dying so much, don’t you?’ Jeremy says, sounding breathless himself.

Ryan is limp and weak, body flooded with endorphins, and even if he wasn’t tied down he wouldn’t be able to do anything but let Jeremy do as he pleases. The knowledge only heightens his anticipation.

Jeremy kneels up again, and Ryan hears the faint rush of skin on skin as he touches himself, stroking his cock and gasping quietly at the relief.

‘Fuck me,’ he begs, his voice rasping, and Jeremy strokes his belly soothingly.

‘I’ve got you,’ he promises, and there’s sudden heat against Ryan’s neglected cunt. The head of Jeremy’s cock is burning hot and velvety as he rubs himself against Ryan’s lips, setting both of them gasping at the tease.

Ryan’s core throbs, slick spilling in anticipation, and he tilts his hips as much as he can, trying to guide Jeremy where he desperately wants him.

‘God, so eager for me,’ Jeremy says, keeping up his teasing strokes around the edges of Ryan’s cunt. ‘Tell me what you want, baby.’

Ryan throws his head back and moans, almost beyond words, lost in the slick slide of Jeremy’s cock against him.

‘Talk to me, Ryan,’ Jeremy orders, and Ryan gathers himself.

‘Please fuck me, fill me up. I need you so much. I’m so ready, look, look how much I want you,’ he babbles, trying to find the words that will make Jeremy give him what he needs.

‘That’s it, good boy,’ Jeremy praises, and finally buries himself inside Ryan.

Ryan moans and clenches, so wet that Jeremy sinks to the root in one thrust, lighting up every nerve inside.

They’re beyond teasing now, both of them wound to a hair trigger, and every rock of Jeremy’s hips drives him deep and hard, stroking every inch of Ryan.

Ryan cries out with every thrust, lost in pleasure, tugging at his bonds as he tries to clutch Jeremy closer. He clenches down, trying to hold Jeremy inside himself, and Jeremy groans at the tight heat.

‘I’m so close, you feel so good,’ Jeremy pants, and he reaches between them to slide slick fingers over Ryan’s clit.

The first hard press sends Ryan over the edge, shaking and sobbing as pleasure burns him from the inside out.

‘So beautiful, so good,’ Jeremy moans, his fingers still stroking back and forth, and Ryan cums again, light flashing behind his eyelids.

Jeremy buries himself deep as Ryan’s body shudders and clenches, hips jerking, and heat floods inside Ryan as he cums.

Jeremy keeps stroking his clit, slow and steady, even as Ryan whines and shudders at the stimulation.

‘One more, baby. Give it to me,’ Jeremy coaxes breathlessly, fingers teasing over the hood, and Ryan throws his head back and wails.

‘Cum for me,’ Jeremy orders, and Ryan is helpless against him.

Pleasure rises up and sweeps him away, his whole body jerking. It feels like dying all over again, and Ryan floats for a long time, his head full of white noise, his body a distant flood of shuddering sensation.

He comes back to himself with Jeremy curled against him, rubbing gently at the marks on Ryan’s freed wrists.

‘You okay?’ Jeremy asks, when Ryan stirs, curling closer to him.

Ryan has to swallow several times before his voice will work.

‘So okay,’ he says, still feeling vague and floaty. The blindfold is still on, but that’s good. He doesn’t think he’s ready for light just yet.

‘You were so good for me,’ Jeremy praises, and Ryan shivers happily at the words. He touches the edge of the blindfold, and Ryan turns his face away.

‘You want this on for a while?’

Ryan nods, glad that he understands.

‘Okay, I’ve got you,’ Jeremy promises.

Ryan gladly lets himself drift, knowing that Jeremy is keeping watch.

[smutguardian-blog]

The Promise and the Pain

Wordcount: 1530

Tags/Warnings: Dom Miles/Sub Ryan, Demon!Miles, Immortal!Ryan, GTA AU, Graphic Violence, Torture, Bloodplay, Asphyxiation, Deathplay, seriously messed up people with seriously messed up kinks.

No matter how he craves it, needs it, there is always a moment when Ryan wants to run. There is some small, vestigial human instinct that tells him to fight or flee, to do anything but let the pain and horror come.

Somewhere between stripping, kneeling, and Miles restraining him beyond all hope of escape, there is a moment of panic at what is about to happen. Miles sees it, every time, and Ryan is sure the demon relishes that moment more than any other.

‘Your hands were shaking this time, Vagabond,’ Miles says silkily, circling Ryan’s helpless body, brushing the sharp end of a bamboo switch teasingly over his skin.

Ryan shudders. He is hanging by his wrists in thick leather cuffs, his toes barely reaching the floor, but the growing strain in his shoulders is nothing compared to the promise of pain from the switch.

‘One of these days, you should try to run. I’d love to show you just how useless it would be. As soon as you step through my door, it’s over,’ Miles reminds him. ‘You’re already dead, Vagabond. It’s entirely up to me to decide when you stop breathing.’

Ryan sucks in a sharp breath, dizzy with lust, and loses it in a cry as Miles brings the switch down savagely across his ass.

The bamboo cuts cruelly, leaving a bloody welt across his skin, and heat roars through Ryan’s core.

Miles lets him pant for a minute, relishing the moans that slip past his lips. They are only just beginning their session, still in the realm of the tame and survivable, but Ryan in pain is a treat to be savoured.

‘I’m thinking of buying us a little place in the country,’ Miles informs him, returning to his maddening circling. Ryan isn’t blindfolded this time, but even so he can’t keep track of Miles, can’t predict his next strike.

‘Somewhere so far from the city that we could play outside and no one would hear your screams,’ Miles says, whispering close to his ear, and Ryan is groaning with want when the cut of the switch on his back turns the sound to a gasp.

‘Nature, red in tooth and claw,’ Miles recites, as the blood rushes in Ryan’s ears. ‘And oh, there are so many ways she could hurt you. If I stake you down tight enough, slit you open nice and wide, the vultures and the crows will pull your guts out before they even realise their carrion isn’t quite dead. The coyotes won’t care if you struggle, Vagabond. They’ll tear chunks from your living flesh and relish the hot blood in their mouths. There’s nothing better than fresh meat, even if it begs for mercy. Especially if it begs for mercy.’

Ryan shudders again, tensing, expecting a blow at that poetic pause, but Miles is too clever for him. The blow doesn’t come, and the tension only ratchets higher.

Ryan has begged before, for more pain, to be touched, for a swift death when the horror is too much, but outside those moments of desperation it grates to remember it. There is shame in begging, even when he has endured more than any man could, even if the shame is tangled with lust. Miles knows exactly how to break him in the sweetest way, and there is more to it than brute violence.

‘I think you like the idea, don’t you?’ Miles purrs. ‘My dungeon is familiar, predictable, but nature is cruel without forethought. You would never know how or when you were about to die.’

Ryan thinks there is very little that is predictable here, in Miles’ personal chamber of anguish, even if the racks of sharp tools and electric wires and unbreakable restraints are all things Ryan has suffered under before. Miles himself cannot be predicted.

‘It may take time to find the right place, but in the meantime, I could bring some new friends here,’ Miles muses, pausing in his circling to rake his nails down Ryan’s chest. They’re sharp, scraping red trails across his muscles, digging into the soft belly that even a life of active crime hasn’t melted away.

Ryan drops his head and pants, skin crawling with tendrils of pain, watching the scratched lines on his chest bloom with pinpricks of blood. Miles stopped above his dick, but god how Ryan wishes he hadn’t. He’s so hard that even the promise of a rough touch seems sweet.

‘Nothing predatory, nothing that would need much care, but oh, the things I could do to you with a few dozen fire ants,’ Miles promises. He leans close and pinches repeatedly at Ryan’s skin, leaving tiny, burning marks all over his up-stretched arms. ‘A hundred crawling, biting, stinging creatures, sinking their poison into your flesh, heedless of your screams. The more you struggle, the more they hurt you.’

Ryan shakes his head, squirming instinctively at the very thought.

Miles chuckles. ‘Oh, but they would only be the beginning, dear Vagabond. You have never known pain until you’ve felt carrion beetles crawling under your skin, burrowing into your muscles. I could sit here for days and watch you die by inches, push my fingers against the crawling lumps under your skin and incite them to tunnel deeper.’

‘Please…’ Ryan gasps, and even he isn’t sure what he’s asking for. Miles has a boundless imagination for torture, and hearing his ideas while bound and helpless to his whims seems almost as bad as actually enduring the agony. Until, of course, the pain truly begins.

‘So impatient today,’ Miles chides, fisting a hand in his hair and pulling his head back. ‘You’re nothing but tension, aren’t you? Too much work, not enough play.’

He presses close, grinding the rough denim of his jeans against Ryan’s cock, making him gasp, and bites savagely at Ryan’s pale throat, worrying at the skin like a dog trying to tear out his jugular. Ryan whines, high and desperate, the only sound he can make with Miles constricting his airway.

Miles’ mouth is bloody when he pulls away, and he sighs, licking his lips with obvious enjoyment.

‘Don’t worry, dear Vagabond, I can give you what you need,’ Miles promises. He steps back, circles behind Ryan, and there’s only a second for Ryan to be grateful that this will be a quick session before the savage strike of the switch cuts open his thigh.

Ryan has spent entire days down here, dying and returning over and over. Miles has nothing but patience when it comes to breaking him. It hardly seems possible to kill someone with nothing but a soft, pathetically vanilla sex-shop flogger, but Miles has done it, slowly stripping Ryan down to bare muscle and fat with thousands of blows, watching him sob and writhe and die from dehydration and exposure. The bamboo switch is merciful in comparison, its sharp edge promising instant, hot pain and swift bleeding.

Ryan probably won’t last more than an hour, but in the moment, screaming as Miles cuts him open over and over, it feels eternal. Ryan comes, at some point in the immeasurable pain, Miles’ hand curled roughly around his dick, coaxing an orgasm from his battered body before the shock and blood loss make it impossible. The rush of endorphins only heightens the agony, every inch of his skin stinging and tingling as blood pours from a hundred bruising welts. Sometimes, Miles likes to leave him hanging for a while, letting the bruises turn purple and black, admiring his own terrible artwork, but there won’t be time today.

‘Please, please, please,’ Ryan sobs, trembling, his head spinning as the blood loss begins to take its toll. His shoulders are on fire, the strength in his legs long since gone, leaving him dangling, and his mind is white with pain.

‘Shh, shh,’ Miles says, caressing his face. The long line of a savage welt disfigures his cheek, and Miles can’t resist digging his nails into it. Ryan only groans, trying weakly to move his head away, but Miles hold him firm.

‘It’s alright, it’s almost over,’ Miles promises, lifting Ryan’s chin to look him in the eye.

Ryan struggles to focus, to see the care and the savage enjoyment in Miles’ eyes, but he’s already slipping. Even if Miles stops now, he’ll die eventually.

‘You’ve been so good for me, screamed so beautifully,’ Miles praises. ‘Let me take care of you.’

He shifts his grip, bringing both hands down to Ryan’s throat, and slowly, lovingly, he begins to squeeze.

Ryan’s breath rasps, catches, then cuts off entirely. His lungs begin to burn, and he thrashes weakly against Miles’ strangling grip, keeping his eyes fixed on Miles, his anchor, as everything else slips away.

‘Let it happen, dear Vagabond,’ Miles purrs, over the roar of blood in his head. ‘Give in, give your life to me. Let me see those beautiful blue eyes go dim.’

Ryan is growing weaker, the sound of his own struggling heartbeat fading in and out of hearing, and the last thing he feels is Miles’ lips pressed against his own.