#*suprasternal

[brambeag]

Drawing can be just personalised dressup game

[crxwes]

make some noise for the guitarist

😊🌷

[paleiido]

🕵️‍♀️wots all dis...

[ferritins]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE (HOT TO GO!) | J. TODD

“I don't care how many years I've known you and how goddamn hot it is; we have not been friends for long enough to excuse you wearing short shorts in my home.”

“Short shorts?” Jason splutters. “They’re not fucking Daisy Dukes! These are US Army issue nylon tricot weave PT shorts! The Marines wear these!”

Yeah, you think, but I strongly doubt the Marines make them look borderline obscene.

Your eyes keep tracking to the thick, corded muscle of thighs, the ochre-gold of tanned skin cut through with dusk-rose scarring, the way the hems of his shorts strain against the sheer bulk of him.

(You’re ogling him. Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to look away.)

“Actually, they phased silkies out of Marine PT uniform issue in 2011.” You say, mouth dry. “The US Armed Forces is responsible for many atrocities, but your slutty choice in shorts is not one of them.”

Realisation of what you've said strikes like a meteor through marzipan. You start throwing silent prayers to every god you can think of that Jason doesn’t pick up on a particular detail of your response.

You can practically see the moment that any divinity that exists in the universe decides to spite you, and the second half of your comment registers in Jason’s head.

He blinks hard, mouth dropping into a comedic little ‘o’.

“Wait a minute. You think my shorts are slutty?”

"...I think that if you can look me in the eye and tell me that three inch inseam shorts aren't a questionable choice when you're packing heat like that, you're lying to both me and yourself.” You reply diplomatically, tearing your eyes away from those delectable thighs.

Jason's ears flush crimson.

“Oh, like your shirt is so much better with that many buttons undone.”

You start, glancing down at yourself. Sure, there's more décolletage on show than you'd perhaps feel strictly comfortable with in public, but your shirt is hardly indecent. You look back up to find Jason's eyes trained on the hook of your collarbone, right at the point where it dips into the suprasternal notch; his eyes flit up to meet yours, pupils blown, as a patchy flush floods his cheeks.

“Wha— are you a bloody Victorian? Is showing a little bit of collarbone in my own apartment really scandalous enough to make you blush?” You ask, laughing a little with incredulity.

“Nothing Victorian about either of us, if the way you were staring at my legs is any indication about how your mind works. ”Jason retorts. Your jaw drops, and Jason snickers. “Yeah, sweetheart, I noticed.”

You feel your blood rush to your face at a frankly mortifying speed, Jason's smirk turning distinctly wolfish at your clear embarrassment.

“Okay, so we're both godless slatterns. Good chat. Glad we can end this here before I die of embarrassment.” You mutter.

Jason quirks an eyebrow.

“Slattern? Why, was ogling my thighs doing it for you, sweetheart? Thinking about how one of them would feel between your own?”

Jason's voice tips into a baritenor rumble at the end of the sentence, the sound sending heat dripping into the pit of your belly.

You can see that goddamn smirk on his face, caught somewhere between teasing and a flash of teeth, clearly enjoying every second of your fluster.

You've got to get your lick back.

“Depends. What was it you were thinking about, Jay? How pretty my collarbone might bruise after you sink your teeth into it? Or is touch more your thing, huh? Wondering about my skin under your fingers?”

The sound that leaves Jason is punched-out, his pupils blowing out to the size of dinner plates.

Your lips quirk up, something like victory in the corners of your smile.

Before you can gloat, you find yourself pressed up into the back of your sofa, Jason we'll and truly in your personal space.

Hovered over you, he’s all supposition; unyielding muscle and sharp lines, hard planes to your soft curves, flooding your nose with the scent of cologne and gunpowder.

You find yourself blinking up into a pair of ink-black pupils, ringed ever so faintly by teal.

“You are playing,” Jason murmurs, “a very dangerous game.”

“Am I winning?” You laugh.

“Fuck.” Jason mutters, husky and emphatic, then; “if you knew how long I’ve wanted—“

He breaks off, a savage huff of breath leaving him.

“Look, if you’re just teasing, I need you to say something now, before—“

With a roll of your eyes, you press your lips to his in a brief, close-mouthed kiss. When you pull back, Jason looks sun-stunned, hope and disbelief warring in his eyes.

“Idiot.” You snark fondly. “You didn’t answer my question. Am I winning?”

A moment, then two, then he’s brushing butterfly kisses to your cheeks, temple, the tip of your nose and the soft hinge of your jaw before, finally, finally, his lips press to yours, close-mouthed and chaste.

The two of you trade slow, shy kisses, soft and sweet until you catch Jason’s full bottom lip between your teeth, tugging slightly.

You hear his breath catch, and the kisses abruptly turn filthy; Jason licking at the seam of your lips until you open up for him, the electric pressure of his tongue against yours, sharp, incisors nipping sharply at your bottom lip.

You could die happily like this, you think; Jason’s hands rucking up your shirt, his mouth on yours, the knowledge of how he tastes burned into your synapses.

When you part, your chest is burning with air hunger, and your lips are spit-slick and puffy.

As much as you’d like to continue, you’re desperate for a cold drink, and only some of the sweat at your hairline is courtesy of your marathon make out.

You say as much to Jason, who groans, full throated, and sucks a savage mark into the side of your neck.

“Okay, you absolute menace. I’ll go grab you a coke, and as soon it gets below 95 in the shade, I’ll show you just how much of a winner you are.”

wallahi england is a godforsaken nation and not just because of r*shi s*nak and k*ir st*rmer. how is the humidity 81% at 11pm at night??? “marley aren’t u african and from desert country” YES. WHERE HOT ALSO MEANS DRY, AS GOD INTENDED.

at least desert country is arid heat.

anyway: Jason Todd good hot, England bad hot (and also a failed state run by cartoonishly corrupt devils, but enough abt britpol).

this one goes out to my fellow Jason Todd apologists @sems-diarie and @stars-n-sweets !!!

[austinslounge]

This Esquire photo 📸 does things to me 😩

🔥

The Chest Hair

The Neck Chain

The Neck Dip (aka The Suprasternal Notch)

🥵

[meidui]

stevetony but the genre is "friends have sex like this, right?"

Picture This by @stovetuna

“What if—” Steve doesn’t clear his throat this time. He swallows. And oh, Tony watches like it’s happening in slow motion, the tensing of tendons, the roll of Steve’s Adam's apple, the way his suprasternal notch collapses and fills as his esophagus works to, what, keep words down? Saliva? A moan? Steve blinks and the glassiness clears. The blush all but vanishes. “Never mind,” he mutters.

And that…that just won’t do.

Tony leans forward ever so slightly over the foot of the bed, further into Steve’s space by a fraction of an inch. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Steve does. He stares at Tony from up near the headboard, a plaintive expression deep behind his eyes, a problem that Tony can’t help but want to fix.

“Would you like my help, Steve?”

***

Steve gets caught attempting to take his first-ever dick pics. It's a struggle, he explains, because it brings up a whole host of lingering body image issues. Tony, very gallantly and not at all because he is in love with Steve, offers to take the photos for him.

dick drunk by @stovetuna

“I’m going to fuck you stupid,” Steve says, pulling away only a fraction of an inch to say it, a promise as deep and certain as the look in his eyes, “and you’re going to take it. Aren’t you, Tony.”

Tony wants a drink. Steve gives him something else.

Thrust Issues by @sineala

A battle gone wrong leads Tony to the unexpected and pleasant discovery that Steve is much more well-endowed than he could ever have imagined. But when Tony learns that Steve has never actually been able to sleep with anyone because of his size, Tony does what any good friend would do: he offers to relieve Steve of his virginity. Personally. Tony's determined, Tony's methodical, and Tony has a plan. He's going to get Steve laid. Tony just needs to make sure Steve never finds out that Tony's in love with him.

The Least Difficult of Men by @isozyme

It isn’t until Tony watches Steve lean into the punch that he thinks oh, this is going to be a problem.

━━━

Steve’s taking hits on purpose in the field, so Tony suggests a safer option. It's simple: Tony smacks Steve around, Steve gets the pain fix he’s looking for, everyone leaves happy. Things do not stay simple.

The one with repressed masochist Steve and sadist Tony and everyone getting off on pain a whole bunch.

Not a Breakup by @no-gorms

Tony knew it was a bad idea to start sleeping with Steve. It could mess up team dynamics, make things even more awkward between them in the future, or just plain get in the way of their trying to save the world. Tony foresaw all of the above but not the advent of feelings, and at the most inopportune moment.

Hard Knock Life by @kandisheek

Since the serum Steve hasn't been able to make himself come. His stamina is so unbelievably high that he can't find a partner who can keep up with him either. Lucky for him Tony is just stubborn enough to try.

any other way of loving by @brandnewfashion

In which Steve is bad at dating, Tony isn’t, and neither of them are as subtle as they think.

[laudaddysmitten]

You had me at

"Crowley In a Lab Coat"

by LaudaddySmitten

(GOAD Writer's Guild presents!)

I continue my theme of writing Good Omens fanfiction - WITH SCIENCE! 🥼 ♥️ 🔬🧪 ♥️ 🥼

I teased the artwork on this baby a bit in the past while (hint, amazing photo from the BAFTA's), see below the AO3 info for more on that!

Summary

Aziraphale's eyes were immediately drawn to the triangle of bare skin at the base of Crowley's throat, and all queries died before reaching his tongue. Crowley's deliciously deep v-neck henleys, which he always made even more enticing by undoing more buttons, fit just out of sight under the lab coat's lapels, showing off the curve of his clavicles and the deep suprasternal notch between them. With a start, Aziraphale realized he’d been blatantly staring at Crowley's throat and upper chest for heaven knows how long. Mortified, he snapped his eyes to Crowley's, which, uncovered, only further fueled his lust for the enticing botanist. Aziraphale was surprised to see that Crowley was sporting a smirk that looked…pleased. “Enjoying the view?” He arched an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh my, I er…..” Aziraphale gulped and looked down at his wringing hands. “How rude of me. I'm…ah, terribly sorry…” “Angel. Don’t apologize. I was actually…hoping you would.” Hands instantly stilled, Aziraphale looked up quickly. Had he heard that right?

CW: Rated E for Explicit sexual content. Read the tags on AO3!

Continue Reading on AO3:

This photo was the artwork tease/ clue:

Now that you've seen the artwork you probably know why. But just in case...

David Tennant (Crowley, ofc) + Jeff Goldblum's most iconic movie pose (from Jurassic Park):

Equals: Crowley In a Lab Coat by @lexarturo (She killed it!)

My original post/ tease on the matter:

Thank you betas of awesomeness, especially @ladybracknellssherry !! Also thanks to you and @riverstyx125 for the very last-minute help!

And help ages ago from other awesome people: @unapologetic-apathy @gingerhaole (for reference/inspiration art) and a couple other betas whose usernames I will find and add b/c tumblr hates me rn! lol @ezomind-the-other-one

And of course thanks to the Writer's Guild of @goodomensafterdark !

[lowkeyrobin]

HANDSOME BROS ; paint me with your love

summary ; touching your soulmate leaves a temporary mark that fades after a few hours.

includes ; tommy, badlinu, & ranboo

warnings ; none

for context how I interpret how this works, only you can see it clearly, outsiders see it very faintly, and your soulmate can't see it at all until you get together. That goes for both parties as well! Sometimes they have two or even three colors (a little more uncommon ofc) so cute cute

masterlist

FREDDIE BADLINU leaves pacific blue smears on your shoulders, face, and hands.

--> He's silly and goofy, he kinda just reaches out to you on instinct. He also likes grabbing your hand when you're out walking somewhere and swing your hands dramatically. He's done the "omg were gonna kiss!!" bit a trillion times and it's still somehow funny, to which is why there's constantly little blue fingerprints on your jaw, cheeks and shoulders. When you get together though, hes fairly touchy but not over the top, just likes the way you feel under his fingers.

TOMMYINNIT paints your hands, suprasternal notch, cheeks, jawline, and hairline with cherry red and off-white streaks.

--> He's one of those people who loves just holding onto you when he kisses you/jokes around with you etc. He also likes outlining your hairline when you're cuddling or just chilling out, he finds it fun for some reason. He likes placing his hands at the bottom of your neck where it meets your chest and shoulders when he gives you kisses or shakes you around for a bit. He likes his hands all over you, you're just that person who understands his physical affection the way he shows it you know? He likes pressing his finger pad onto your skin to show off his fingerprint, and sometimes he does it twice at different angles to make a little heart.

RANBOO spreads royal purple and black streaks across your neck, scalp, shoulders, and hands.

--> He likes patting your head and using your head and shoulders as an arm rest. Like his whole forearm causes purple stains on the nape of your neck and upper back area. He sometimes leaves a hand on your upper back sometimes so there's just a large purple hand somewhere on your back. He likes holding onto/fidgeting with your hands, and sometimes likes to play around with your hair as well.

[lenjaysdp]

i hit you with my WOKE LASER BEAM and you drop to the floor as your hair turns blue and you feel pronouns forming in your suprasternal notch

[konigbabe]

mornings like these (don't last forever)

Pairing: pre!RE2! Leon Kennedy x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: domestic fluff; established relationship; implied and mentioned smut; kissing; slightly sub!Leon; canon compliant; pre-canon; 2nd POV; no y/n; purely self-indulgent; leon being written by hozier Summary: It's mornings like these, bathing in the warm golden glow of the rising sun, his hands wrapped tightly around you, that you cherish the most. or; you and Leon spend the last morning together.

A/N: Partly inspired by @creativepromptsforwriting's Twenty-Four Touches; prompt 8: An arm sneaking around a waist, holding them close. Divider by @benkeibear [source]

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

Beneath you, he’s a masterpiece. A work of art. Canvas to be explored. And you, the artist, the only one with the privilege to appreciate the beauty before you. It’s moments like these that make your heart bleed with longing, the knowledge that this can't last forever. But for now, you let yourself sink deeper into his embrace, savoring every touch and caress, every kiss and nip.

The feeling never fades, no matter how hard you try to bury it. It lingers in the recesses of your mind like a relentless drumbeat. Every step you take, every choice you make, brings you back to the same gnawing question – is this what you truly want from life?

It's been haunting you for as long as you can remember, from the days when you had to choose which school to attend. The urge to explore, to roam the world like a restless spirit, has been with you since childhood. You long to escape, to be no one and nothing, but a wandering soul, free to roam wherever your heart desires.

The crossroads stretch endlessly, a maze of choices and uncertainties. Days blur together in a monotonous routine, each one a carbon copy of the last. The worst part is leaving him behind, the one person who makes you feel alive in a world that can feel suffocating. You long to tell him everything, to unburden your soul and share your deepest fears. But the words stick in your throat, choked back by the fear of rejection.

His heart beats slow and steady against your ear. You trace the soft tissue of his breastplate with your fingertips, committing every detail of him to memory. For now, this is where you belong – in his arms, in this moment of fleeting bliss. His naked skin nuzzled into your side; you feel like you could easily live like that forever.

With him by your side.

Young and reckless.

As the first rays of dawn break through the window, casting a warm golden glow across the room, you stir from your slumber. Sitting up, you let the covers slip past your bare chest; shivering momentarily as the morning air dances across your naked flesh. Leon stirs beside you, his eyes still closed as he reaches out, his hand resting on your thigh. Fingers digging into the skin there, thumb tracing lazy shapes over your hip bone.

Leon’s hand continues its ascent, moving up your body like a serpent, coiling tightly around its prey. He tugs backwards, his chest a soft cushion against your back.

"Good morning," he rasps, his voice still heavy with sleep. You turn in his embrace, hands sneaking into the mess on top of his head as he reciprocates the embrace, both hands sneaking around your hips to secure you closer.

A wave of contentment washes over you as you feel the softness of his hair beneath your fingers. You can't help but let out a contented sigh as his lips explore your neck, his teeth playfully grazing the sensitive skin. Every touch feels like a spark of electricity, igniting your senses and filling you with a sense of bliss.

"How did you sleep?" he murmurs against your skin. Wet lips trailing a path along the curve of your suprasternal notch, leaving a glistening trail of warmth that tickles your senses. Fingertips as gentle as a feather dance over your spine.

You chuckle softly, the sound rumbling in your chest. "Like a baby, with you by my side."

The rough texture of his jawline presses into the softness of your palm as you cup his face, tilting it towards you. Leon's eyes are half-lidded, still drowsy from sleep, yet there's a glint of affection in them; love even. Beneath the pad of your thumb, his lips curve into a sleepy smile, plump and inviting like a ripe peach. Memories of last night flood your mind, and you can't help but let your thumb trace the outline of his mouth, savoring the feel of his skin against your fingertips.

The sound of your name escaping from his lips was like a reverent hymn. His fingers digging into your thighs, leaving marks that you could feel for hours afterwards. The way he held you tightly, pressing his body against yours, and whispered hot breath onto your neck. The kisses he planted on your lips; passionate, almost violent, fuelled by a primal desire that consumed you both. The scent of sweat and sex filling the air, a heady aroma that made your heart race. Your body on fire, completely consumed by the passion and lust that Leon had ignited within you.

Leon’s teeth bite into your fingernail. A playful gesture that makes your lips turn upwards. His hand sneaks around the back of your neck to bring you closer. You can feel his warmth radiating against you, and you can’t resist burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin; the warm musk of his skin.

Beneath you, he’s a masterpiece. A work of art. Canvas to be explored. The gentle curve of his spine, the sharp lines of his collarbone, the delicate slope of his shoulder blades, all begging to be traced by your fingertips. The morning light illuminates his skin, casting a soft, tender glow over his form. And you, the artist, the only one with the privilege to appreciate the beauty before you.

It’s moments like these that make your heart bleed with longing, the knowledge that this can't last forever. But for now, you let yourself sink deeper into his embrace, savoring every touch and caress, every kiss and nip.

Leon’s lips move to capture yours, only to be stopped by the palm of your hand. Eyes wide and questioning, the bright blue of his eyes was like the dazzling sunlight on a clear day.

“Not until you brush your teeth,” you mumble, the words a playful jab. Gently pushing your naked form forward, your lips press a soft kiss onto his forehead, leaving behind a trail of warmth.

His hand, strong and calloused, catches yours in a tender grasp. The light dances in his eyes as he watches you move, admiring every curve and line of your body. It's as if he's seeing you for the first time, and he can't get enough.

Fingers intertwining, you flash a loving smile before slipping away towards the bathroom. The cool floorboards a shock against your warm skin. His touch lingers on your skin; a trail of stardust, each particle a memory of the sparks that flew between you.

His arms sneak around you, tight as a bear hug, while his chin rests on your shoulder, hot breath tickling your cheek. Leon’s embrace a warm blanket on a cold winter night, safe and comforting. Something you could definitely get used to.

“Do I get a kiss now,” he murmurs against the side of your face, his voice a soft caress.

“Did you brush your teeth,” you tease, turning to face him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, scratching lightly and eliciting a contented moan from deep within his chest.

“Two minutes; thirty seconds for each quarter,” he responds. Eyes moving to meet yours, a gentle squeeze of your side as his gaze flickers to your lips like a puppy waiting for its treat after completing a new command.

“Good boy,” you respond with a smile, the hand tangled in his now brushed hair pushing his face towards yours. A playful glint dances in his eyes as he leans into your invitation. Lips brushing against his, you can feel him smile as his hand reaches up to cup your cheek. The taste of mint floods your mouth, a refreshing burst of flavor that mixes with the warmth of his lips.

Your body responds almost instinctively, drawn to Leon's presence like a magnet. Feeling the cool surface of the kitchen island, you let him back you into the edge. Leon's lips continue their tender exploration of your mouth, his tongue a velvet brush that sets every nerve in your body alight with a fierce intensity. The soft caress of his hands on your exposed thighs rewarding him with a content moan; blissful and idyllic.

Losing yourself in his presence, the back of your legs up in the air as he sits you onto the counter. The gentle strokes of his tongue ignite a fire within you. Head filled with dizziness, you let yourself get lost in the moment; succumbing to Leon’s assault. The warmth of his hands seeps into your flesh, rendering you powerless to resist his every touch. The kiss like a languid river. Lazy, leisurely and deliberate. No rush. Only content as both of you bathe in each other’s embrace.

The moment is only ripped away with a chime of your phone. Momentarily vibrations pull Leon’s lips away like strings. His smile mischievous, playful as he reaches over to grab the strawberries you’ve been cutting. Putting one in his mouth, he lets you reach for the phone to read the incoming text.

“When’re you leaving,” he looks behind his shoulder onto the few suitcases sitting in the hallway.

Finishing responding to the text, you look back at the man before you. Curious eyes stare back at you, fingers dancing along the soft skin of your knee while he continues to nibble on your breakfast.

“In fifteen minutes, it seems,” you respond. Sneaking one hand onto his jaw, you turn his face towards you; this time to be stopped by him for change – his hand steadily grasping your ribcage, a squeeze indicating you to stop.

“Fifteen minutes,” he looks between you, at the exposed flesh of your legs, “and you’re still in pjs,” shaking his head disapprovingly as he finishes the fruit bowl and adds, “No distractions. You need to change.”

“Hey,” you scold him playfully, “don’t use my lines. I said that last night.”

Leon smiles in exchange, pulling away from in between your legs, “I’ll be in Raccoon City next week. Then we’ll have all the time in the world,” he kisses you for the last time before leaving the kitchen to help you pack the last necessities.

If only both of you had known that it would be the last time you saw each other.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Just A Scratch

Jack Mojave X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 2: Knife Play

Summary: Turns out being tied to a chair with his own knife at his throat is exactly where Jack wants to be.

A/N: I have not proof read this properly, I know I haven't.

Warnings: Is Jack a warning all on his own?, knife play, blood (not too much), cum eating, a little degradation, hand job, tied up, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 1796

You press the sharp edge of the blade against Jack’s neck, trailing it along the edge of his jugular vein. His heartbeat jumps under the touch. But he stays still as you glide the point of the knife over his Adam’s apple.

He swallows, his throat bobbing with an audible click. You coast the tip down lower until you reach his suprasternal notch between his collar bones and press firmly.

His breathing hitches as he hisses, moving back as much as the wooden chair he’s tied to will allow as the blade starts to bite into his skin. 

You tut a little disapprovingly at him and his dark eyes snap back to yours.

“I thought you liked knives, Jack?” You say in a quiet sing-song voice. 

The corner of his lip twitches up briefly, but he says nothing. 

You can tell from how his arm muscles are tensing that he’s trying to undo the tight ropes that bind his wrist and forearms to the chair behind his back. Not that he’s succeeding. And even if he did, it would be impossible for him to reach the ropes around his biceps that pulled his back flush to the seat. If he tried the rope around his neck would tighten and he’d choke himself out long before he got anywhere. It would be fun to watch though. 

He’d probably get up tipping the chair over and cracking his head open on your titled floor, his legs in the air still bound to the chair. 

You press the tip of the knife firmer, just starting to cut his skin. “Or are you just pissed off I’m making you bleed with your own blade?” A ruby red drop of blood beads before running down and disappearing underneath his shirt. 

“Having fun are we, girlie?” 

You grin and slide the knife down, scratching an inch-long red line down his skin. It only takes a split second before blood begins to well. 

Jack clenches his jaw, breathing sharply through his nose. “Fucking bitch.” He mutters, hardly more than a whispered grunt and certainly not intended for your ears. 

You hear it anyway. 

Slowly you let out a small chuckle and ease the blade off his skin. “Wanna repeat that, Jacky boy?” 

He glares at you for a second before you smack him hard across the cheek with the back of your hand. 

His head snaps to the side, his jaw hanging open with the force of your hit. You don’t give him a second to recover before you're pressing the tip of the knife under his chin and tilting him back up to look at you. 

“Wanna repeat that, Jacky boy?” 

He bites his lip and groans, his eyes dark and clouded over with lust. He squirms in the seat, trying to rub his thighs together but he’s spread too wide. His cock straining against his trousers painfully. “Fuck, baby, please,” he moans and shifts and your expression softens instantly. “I’m sorry old Jack has to break the scene, but...” He stares up at you desperately, his chest heaving. 

You smile and lean down to kiss the red handprint you left on his cheek before pressing your lips to his. “It’s okay baby,” you soothe, lightly pressing the flat of the blade against his heavy cock. 

It jumps under your attention and he gasps against you. 

“You okay?” You ask sweetly. 

He nods rapidly. “I’m just; I don’t think I can take it. Gonna cum in my pants.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, keeping your lips hovering just over his but moving back every time he tries to needily kiss you. 

He nods, swallowing again. 

You tap his erection with the dull side of the blade, smacking it a little harder than most would appreciate.

Jack groans low in his throat, his eyes rolling back. You give him a second to compose himself and trail the knife along his jean’s stitching. 

“Maybe I want you to cum in your pants... maybe I’ll just leave you here, tied up. All wet and uncomfortable until you’re begging for me to come back and start the whole thing up again?” 

He whimpers, pressing his forehead into your chest and you let him. “Whatever you want baby, what,” he swallows heavily, his voice thick with his arousal. “Whatever you want to do with me.” 

You smile and kiss the top of his forehead before softly tilting his head back up to you again by his chin with the tip of your finger this time. 

“Whatever I want.” You echo and kiss him roughly, sliding your tongue into his mouth. 

Jack moans loudly into you, straining against the ropes to press against you harder, urging your tongue deeper. You indulge him for a moment, keeping his chin pinched between your fingers as you pillage his mouth and claim him as yours. 

You break the kiss suddenly, shoving him away and pushing his chin back and up with the heel of your hand so that his neck is taut and exposed. 

“Fuck, baby, yes.” He groans, gasping as you suck and bite at the spot below his ear. 

With enough pressure to just slice into his skin, but no deeper than a paper cut, you run the blade’s edge down his neck, along his chest and to the fourth button on his shirt. The first one that is closed. 

Slowly, but firmly, you slip the knife further down cutting the buttons free and open his shirt with every inch. 

He gasps as you let the cool metal just kiss under his navel and trace his happy trail. Jack licks his lips, breathing heavily, eyes glued to your actions. 

You hook your forefinger under the waistband of his jeans and boxers, giving you just enough room to slip the blade underneath. There is a satisfying shredding sound as the denim and cotton give way under the knife’s edge, slicing cleanly in two as you apply a minimal pressure. 

Jack hisses, biting his bottom lip between his teeth to stop himself from moaning out loud as you expose part of his inner thigh and lower abdomen to the cool air. 

You chuckle softly and slap the exposed skin with the flat edge of the knife, he jumps and whimpers so sweetly, before you dip the very tip under the remaining material and push it aside carefully. 

It hardly takes any movement until his cock is free, jumping out and to attention like a well-behaved dog. 

Leisurely you run the flat edge along his hard length, the touch light and fleeting. 

Jack gasps, breathing hard, his chest heaving as he fights every urge to stay still. His dick twitches as you near the tip, precum building and smearing along the head. 

Softly you run the blunt side of the metal along his slit. The coolness of it makes him shiver and moan, his eyes close and balls tighten as the heady sensation builds in his belly. 

You tap the flat edge against his chin as you take his jaw in hand. “Here.” 

He opens his eyes quickly and looks down to see his precum against the blade. 

“Clean it.” 

Without question he opens his mouth, his tongue darting out to the flat part of the metal to lick it clean, moaning wantonly at the taste and swallowing. 

Swiftly you press the sharp edge to his neck and hold up your left hand. “Spit.” 

He pauses for one second and you frown.

“I’m not wasting my spit on you.”

He groans again and quickly spits into your palm, the disdain in your tone making him grow impossibly harder. 

You take him in your hand roughly as you press the knife more firmly into his neck. 

Jack moans loudly, no longer trying to fight it, his eyes glazed over and desperate as he tries to trust up into your hand. You pump him harshly, pulling on his velvety skin and squeezing in a way that would have most shying away from your touch. Jack hopelessly tries to get closer. Little grunts and whimpered, ‘ah, ah, ah’s escaping his mouth with every breath. 

“Gonna cum like a fucking whore?” You ask, purposefully injecting a bored tone into your words. 

Jack sobs. “Yes, yes, ah! Feels so good, please, please!”

The chair starts scooting under his frantic attempts to fuck your hand, pleasure burning out every other thought in his head. 

You pick up your pace, delighting in how wrecked he looks, how his sliced up clothing sticks to his skin with sweat. “Next time,” you keep that bored tone to your voice. “ I should just stab the knife into the floor and make you fuck yourself open with the handle, shouldn’t I?” 

Jack moans so loudly, crying out and screwing up his eyes at the thought. 

“Bet you’d cum after one thrust wouldn’t you?” 

“I would!” He snivels. The chair legs smack, smack, smack against the floor. “I would cum so hard,” he presses his neck closer to the knife, purposefully cutting his out skin. “I would cum so much, please- oh fuck!”

He cums violently, shooting hot thick ropes all over his stomach and ruined clothes, coating your fingers with sticky white. 

You quickly move the knife away from his neck, putting it on the side before kissing his lips softly as his breathing calms. 

Jack nuzzles into your gentle touch, tears in his eyelashes. 

“You okay baby?” You sooth, running your right, clean, hand over his face and shoulders. 

He nods, gesturing to your left. “Let Jack clean that up for you.” His voice is soft and small, almost timid as he pokes his tongue out.  

“Uh uh uh,” you kiss his cheek and grab a towel on the side to wipe your hand before you start to undo the ropes and rub his skin, massaging the tired muscle. “You’ve done enough, you need to rest now sweet thing.” 

His face crumples as he presses his forehead into your neck, trying to hide from your praise and breathing hard. You know how much he tries to reject your kind words, even though they are exactly what he needs right now. 

“Hey,” you tilt his chin up, your hands soft and gentle. 

He blinks heavily as he looks at you, his eyes glassy. 

“You wanna make me happy right?” 

He nods quickly, the idea of disappointing you cutting into his heart like a vice. 

“Then tell me you’re my lovely, sweet boy.” You stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. “Who I love very much.”

He swallows, biting his lip and nods. “I’m you’re lovely, sweet boy.” He says earnestly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Who loves you very much too.” 

You smile and kiss him gently, savouring his little whimpers into your mouth. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! (Using a different tag list for kinktober so I don't overwhelm anyone.)

@flightlessangelwings @steven-grants-world @lonelyisamyw-0love @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[a-s-levynn]

How i do stuff | Part 2

Okay so i'm kinda doing this backwards going from the shading back to the sketching but not like i did anything logically ever.

THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE A LINE FOR LINE PROCESS because i am not that insane. Yet.

To be honest the entire sketching process is very intuitive on my part so i don't think i can provide much insight here but i'll try to make it make sense.

It is really not as conscious as the shading.

So first: have an idea to work with

Find a concept i like and go from there.

I decided that i want Vessel to look upwards and a little bit to the side and add some other details (which you are not going to see here yet. We are talking about sketching people here not background or whatever.)

Next step: i try to find a reference image that is as close to the desired pose as possible. It could either be made by a posing tool or actual reference image. Whichever is at hand.

(For whatever mysterious reasons i have a small catalog of IV pics in my head rent free so i actually knew what i was looking for.)

I use reference pictures for a few reasons. For one, they make it so much easier to figure out poses and movements. But more importantly by looking at them i can figure out the flow of the body much more faster than just from memory. They also help with understanding how cloth is draping or the way light hits certain shapes and surfaces. There are a lot of benefits.

Anyway so we have our reference picture:

But i wanted Vessel to look the other way so flipped it. (Zoom in not mandatory but we don't need the rest of IV for this.)

Ye okay i can now kind of figure out where goes what in relation to one and other.

Okay okay okay i know: draw a circle than finish the fucking owl.. no bear with me. I need something on the page to talk about what i do. Lemme explain:

So first i'm starting with the traditional x or cross (blue on the pic below). I usually i orient it in my head that the meeting point of the line is the part of your nose dips right above the nosebridge. Because that is usually in the same level as the eyes. At least how i start, they could be moved up or down later.

So the horizontal line for me is the middle of the middle pair of eyes/eyeholes for Vessel or if there is only one set of eyes than it is the middle line for the eyes. I found it most comfortable in proportion wise for me to start with. (This horizontal line would be the tip of the ears as well if i had ears on here.)

Than i pick where the tip of the nose and the mouth is going to be roughly. Doesn't have to be more than a little dot or line, it is going to be changed later anyway.(pink lines below)

I also pick a comfortable spot on the vertical line where the point of the chin is going to be, where throat starts and pick a spot for the addam's apple.(pink lines below)

Than i make the whole head into somewhat head like shape (pink egg like shape below), because where that ends is basically what i'm connecting with the chin point to find the jawline. (green lines below)

Maybe even add to a line or two for where i imagine the hood to go just for funsies.

What else i do simultaniously with this is finding the flow of the face because where his adam's apple is, will tell me where the neck bends in the movement, the neck curving point will show where the shoulder connects, but also where the tendons are going towards the suprasternal hollow and then where the collarbones start and angle back up towards the shoulders etc. Everything connects to the next thing.

(I also do this for half or full body figures as well, only there i'm trying to find the flow of the entire body. Or more accurately the curve of the spine in a natural or close to natural shape first and then figure out the smaller parts.)

Look i'm not gonna lie, for this to be eyeballed off of even a pretty close reference picture in a way that looks close to natural or makes sense, you have to have a basic understanding of anatomy.

It doesn't have to be a conscious understanding but it has to be there. There are endless tutorials out there to help with this and i highly recommend looking up a few because i know not everyone can learn it just by looking at dancers and anatomy lab videos.

Next step: find a reference for the mask and preferably for the mouth because i'm bad at drawing mouths and i want to learn. If it is moving make it not moving, it helps a lot. Kill it with a screenshot, put it in Paint, bury it in a jpeg. Simple as that.

When i have my mask reference, i'm just trying to find a sweet spot that matches it in a way that feels good. First i'm going for the rough outline of it, details can be added later. It is not going to be a one-to-one to the reference because it is not the exact same angle, but it still helps.

And from here it is mostly just trial end error of putting lines and details in and than erasing them until i reach a state where i can say: yup this is look decent enough and can refine it into a lineart and start shading.

Not much else i could share here about this part of the process because as i've said most of it is pretty intuitive and based on a certain level of anatomical understanding.

(Hopefully you'll see the end result in a couple of days but we'll see how much time i'm going to have.)

Love you all and i'm sorry i can't provide more than this ♥

[randomabiling]

NaNoWriMo Entry #2

Pearl

July, 1891

“Robert, I don’t know what was so important-”.

His lips were upon hers and the rest of her words were swallowed into the depths of his soul as he covered her mouth so completely she gasped for air. Hands, greedy to feel every inch of her, pressed into the tender places that made her squirm with pleasure. Eyes closed, pops of light burst behind her lids as he pinched and caressed and pulled. Her mind spiraled into a dizzying freefall, all thoughts of seating charts and flower arrangements interrupted. There was no longer thinking, just a frenzy of feelings and impulses as her own hands instinctively responded, manipulating him in the ways he liked, making him groan and pant as he backed her into the wall.

She felt the absence of his hand and heard the small click of the lock, the knob secured against intrusion. It was like the release of a dam, both of them becoming more frantic in their movements, tearing at skirts and clasps and buttons. The loss of clothing made her hot skin prickle with gooseflesh and her shiver only fueled Robert’s need as he pushed her onto their bed and topped her. Finally finding the friction she craved as his body filled every blank space on hers, Cora rocked against him, taking him deep and holding him tightly. Their undulating rhythms quickened, and their release crested at the same time, both of them crashing against each other with each pleasurable and delicious wave.

When they’d both stilled, Robert collapsed beside her, his head resting on her sweaty shoulder, is finger tracing patterns above her breast. The tip touched the string of pearls still roped around her neck. She could feel one of the beads cradled in the hollow between her collar bones and that was the one he played with, pushing it back and forth lazily. The jewelry had been a gift from him after Mary’s birth and had quickly become one of her favorite pieces. 

“I should have thought on this more, when I bought it.” Robert leaned upward on his elbow, his face hovering over hers and his eyes directed onto the pearls.

“Hmm?” Cora felt drowsy suddenly, the carnal exertion adding to the almost constant fatigue she felt as the mother of an infant. 

“It covers my favorite spot!” Robert’s pout made her chuckle, and slowly his head dipped lower and he suckled the spot the pearl had occupied. The attention, the lingering kisses that grew more passionate, set her flesh tingling once again. 

“The suprasternal notch.” Cora’s voice cracked as his hand slid up the length of her body, as it cradled the slope of her breast. 

“Whatever it is, it’s glorious.It’s mine.” Robert’s mouth covered hers and her hips lifted in response, the pearls forgotten as they sailed towards release for a second time. 

[ughgoaway]

Oh yeah for sure his neck/ clavicle area is one of his best features. When he screams into the mic and you can see the muscles🥵 And when he takes a drag of his cigarette or takes a deep breath in and the space between his collarbones dips in (I guess it’s called the Suprasternal notch lol thanks google) it literally makes me insane. This is oddly specific but I feel like you’d get it :’) oh and when he throws his head back and his adams apple shows more

He just makes me so ajskdhksbd I need him bad

I really need him to shave and buy more hair gel, something about the slicked back hair and slightly oversized suit is so sleazy and slutty but I LOVE IT

-🌻

when he's slightly sweaty and his collarbones and neck are just glowing... I need to lick him. I'm so sorry. shiny collarbone was inspired by him after coming off stage, actually.

OHMYGOD YES WHEN HE DOES THE EXTENDED "COOL" IN ROBBERS AND HIS VEINS COME OUT AHRHHRHSHWHW

omg, who knew that tumblr could be so educational??? I LOVE his suprasternal notch lmao, its something so small, but so good. god, I want to mark him up so badly.

NO, THE ODDLY SPECIFIC STUFF IS MY FAVVVVVV. I SO GET IT. i love it when he has a cig in his mouth and puffs the smoke out with it still between his lips, and I love it when he holds the cig between his teeth.

Adams apples remain incredibly hot to me omgggggg. LIKE WHEN HE THROWS HIS HEAD BACK AND BREATHES HEAVY, AND YOU CAN SEE IT??? KILL. ME. NOW.

imagining his adams apple bobbing as he gulps nervously if you're dominating him... the red flush creeping up his neck as you edge him again and again. it spreads to his chest and cheeks, a pink glow covering his whole body as you bring him to the brink over and over but you dont let him cum...

*gasp* not the shaving mention... I can feel @think0fmehigh dying rn at the suggestion. every time someone brings up matty shaving, she loses part of her soul

I personally LOVE the stache but I do go through phases of missing the clean shaven look. maybe it's my love for more effeminate men coming out lmao!! like I saw some roxy videos today and FUCK. he looked immaculate that night.

no bc the slicked back hair and the oversized suits is giving laid back son of a mobster who would kill for his gf or just kill in general... very wattpad fic of him, and I eat it up every time.

sleazy and sexy just IS matty healy. Those are the two most perfect words to describe him.

[whisperedfromthevoid]

The feeling of Enoch's fingers against his suprasternal notch sent a cascade of warmth through his body. Enoch was denied the look or surprise on the familiar's features.

"You're so keen!" Spidery long fingers wrapped around the scholar's wrist, giving the gentlest squeeze. But, he was soon speaking softly once more.

"Now, where do you feel it?" His left hand traveled up from Enoch's heart, hovering near his cheek, then his temple. "Like feeling breath against your skin. You can do it."

Enoch’s breath caught as Olek’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, the warmth of that touch grounding him in the moment. His mind raced, trying to keep up with the sensations he was being guided through.

He could feel it—something subtle, a presence beneath his skin that was just out of reach. But as Olek’s hand hovered near his cheek, then his temple, the young professor struggled to pinpoint it, to give this feeling a name or place.

“I feel…”

It was there, elusive, like trying to catch a breeze in his hands. But to locate it, to define it, was like chasing a shadow. His brow furrowed in concentration, the familiar weight of frustration pressing in. “It’s…just there, but I can’t…” His words trailed off, his focus slipping.

[mcclainwilla]

Writing Fight Scenes Part 8 - Illegal Strikes

Sorry this took a while to get out, school has been kicking my ass (but what's new) and I couldn't think of a topic to tackle, until I had a vision in my grocery store parking lot. Up until this point, I've been talking about 'honorable' martial arts/fighting techniques. But what happens if your character is just a cunt?

I'm going to talk about types of illegal hits (learned from my time in martial arts/watching UFC fighting, not from my own exploits) and when/why your character would ever want to do such a sucky thing

TW: injury mention, death mention, brief eye horror mention.

Please tread carefully if you're sensitive to violence! I fully anticipate having a personal case of the heebie jeebies by the time I'm done writing this post

Types of Illegal Hits

When I was still actively practicing martial arts, my instructor would sing (to the tune of 'head, shoulders, knees and toes') "eyes, ears nose throat and groin, throat and groin" which, honestly, is most of what you need to know. But I'm going to expand on that a little bit

Back of the head

Specifically, the junction between your character's spine and your neck. If you poke around, you'll find a little divot there. That is where the brain stem is, which connects the spinal cord to the rest of the brain. As opposed to the rest of the head, especially the forehead/frontal bone, the back of the head is kinda squishy/not well-protected by the skull. This is a magnificent design flaw, because the brain stem controls most involuntary vital functions like breathing and heart rate, which means that a hit to the back of the head could send a character to meet their maker

Throat

Throat strikes can also be life-threatening because, as you might've guessed, it will impact a character's breathing (or, in the worst cases, the neck bones). The larynx is at the top of the throat column, whereas the trachea is at the bottom. Ultimately, the terminology doesn't matter too much, because both are very bad places for your character to be hit. The suprasternal notch, which is the divot between the collarbones, at the very base of the neck, is not a fun place to be hit, but it won't kill your character (Rio, one of my characters, motherfucker unlimited, hits one of his classmates here and nearly gets suspended)

Eyes

Explains itself. A character would probably want to use their thumbs

Ears

There are a couple here. Right behind the ears/corners of the jaw are some particularly nasty soft spots. I used to think it was the eustachian tubes, but I could be wrong, maybe it's actually the lymph nodes, or something else entirely. Either way, I was once hit here with an oven mitt that was tossed at my face, and it brought me to the ground

Also, there's something called a 'thunderclap' which is basically a character clapping their palms over an opponent's ears (less of a cupping/holding motion and more of a simultaneous smack). The sudden change in pressure will rupture their opponent's eardrums, which 1. Hurts like a bitch and 2. Will at least temporarily deafen them

Knees

This one is kinda tricky because some strikes aimed at the knees are okay (kicking out the backs of the knees isn't fun, but it won't ruin a character's year), and some are not. It's not cool to aim at the front and top of the knee, because that's how dislocations happen. Your character ought to stomp, rather than kick - gravity gives some assistance and even if the opponent bends their knee in preparation, it still has a good chance of breaking

Why would a character throw illegal hits?

Because, clearly, they can be pretty devastating. I'm not going to tell you that a character can't throw these kinds of hits during a sparring match, but they really shouldn't, unless you're trying to prove that they are a bitch (like my kid, Rio). That's because friendly/instructional sparring matches are defined by a sense of mutual respect and good sportsmanship - the goal is to improve the skills of one or both parties, not to maim. But, on the other hand, it could be a pretty powerful characterization moment if a character gets worked up and smashes their sparring partner's knee in. Any character who disregards combat etiquette, whether intentionally or impulsively, is bound to build a reputation for themselves both within the narrative and among the fandom

Primarily, however, these underhanded hits are best utilized in a self-defense scenario, especially when your character is otherwise at a steep physical disadvantage (shorter/lighter/weaker/etc.) It's also okay to pull these out during a serious, but more evenly-matched, fight between two characters. Just, again, remember that it's really not nice, and that the victim character would probably be well within their rights to seek revenge at the next available opportunity