#Elden ring x reader

[linkwho1]

you’re telling me dark souls a VERY famous game BARELY has any fanfics..?? This is absolute insanity I did not simp for men in armor to only watch them from afar YOU NEED TO START WORKING THOSE IN THE FANDOM

[totallynotpochacco]

Me and that one guy that’s not real

(I’ll be the knight if I have too.)

[mydadleft471]

👁️ think that messmer is a sap and if his spouse/consort ever had to leave the shadow keep for more than a week he’d be like i am downing in mine own misery i wish to see their face. and you come back and there’s this massive portrait hanging in the keep of you. he refuses to acknowledge it beyond the fact it’s there (no he didn’t get it bc he missed you, this was here from the start)

No anon, literally this. If you have to leave, he’s trying to talk you out of it. He begs you and abandons whatever pride he has left and gets on his KNEES for you, pitifully clinging onto your hands and using the “don’t you love me” with the puppy eyes and you explain to him that you have urgent business and you don’t wanna leave either, but you have to. He offers to come with you, but you tell him no, he has an entire Keep to look after. He hates when you’re right smh.

But fine, he can’t go with you, but you know who can? Half of his army. It doesn’t matter if you’re going down the road to Castle Ensis to visit Rellana, half his army is going with you :) he will not budge on this.

While you’re gone, he’s miserable. He’s tucked away in his room smelling the sheets that still smell like you and aimlessly wandering the halls that you two would walk through together. He stares at your portrait for extended periods of time. His serpents miss you too and they’re just as sad, curling around Messmer and barely moving. Everyone is sad.

But when you’re back? CELEBRATION. Messmer will not let you go for like three days, maybe longer depending on how long you were away. He’s so happy to have you back. He’s crying, he’s telling you how much he missed you and he sounds like a fucking POET. This man is so clingy. Poor baby just wants to be loved and he was terrified you’d leave him alone, just like his mother 😭

I wrote an essay lmao. But thank you anon!

[aeragan]

ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴍᴇʀ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): messmer x gn reader

✧ a/n: chat is it like financially acceptable to buy a $260 collectors edition when you already have the game just for a statue of a guy You Like Too Much (do i have a thing for redheads?) also before anyone says "you can do anything you put your mind to" i can but also all i imagine is him splitting me in half so penetration... i know that he's messmer the impaler but not of this boypussy he aint

🗒 cw: SMUT, SHADOW OF THE ERDTREE SPOILERS, gn reader, tarnished reader, size difference, a little ooc, frotting, thigh jobs, handjobs, oral, accidental manhandling, hair pulling, praise, pesudo-bondage(?), not proofread

✎ wc: 1.1k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Intimacy is a long abandoned thought within the lands between. Long gone are the days of tenderness, and in their wake, only blood and steel remain. That is to say, MESSMER is a virgin. Painfully so.

Sex is quite the foreign concept for someone who’s being is steeped within the flames of war. The most love he had known was his mother’s coddling before she had disappeared, and in his rage, he had never sought out another form of love. Torn between the want for his mother to look down upon him once more, and the need to kill, to earn her approval once more, the thought of loving another, of trusting another with his body, his mind, his heart, it is near unfathomable.

And yet, here you were. Someone who stirred such benevolent (and more) feelings within him. How so utterly kind of you to share with him your heart, your mind, your body. He must repay you in kind, of course.

Now, let’s talk about the elephant in the room, or the snakes in the room, if you will. He feels quite embarrassed to have them there when you two… engage. While they understand and know his feelings– and they were the very obvious sign of his interest in you– to him, it’s the equivalent of having your pet in the room while you have sex. He makes them look away, since that is about all he can do. It is quite awkward your first time. But, they’ll come into play, later.

Due to MESSMER’s size, he is quite nervous about entering you, even with his fingers. It takes him a little while to get used to it. He trims his nails just for you, and he draws the line at two fingers, one is almost enough as it is. He gets accustomed to fingering you quickly, to have you sit in his lap while he presses his fingers into you, his free hand resting on your thigh and pushing it open, it is his own little piece of heaven.

Oral is another option for him, of course. Something that is much more easy on his mind, he doesn’t have to worry about delving too deep, nor about hurting you. He can just settle his head between your thighs and take what he wishes as you writhe above him. Pull his hair and praise him, and he’ll cum untouched. I promise.

He excels at oral, though. Put that practiced tongue to use. He maintains contact all the while, even though his face is quite red. He gives you this beautiful look that speaks volumes, ‘touch me, I beg’, it says. ‘Please’. And if you answer that plea, even simply by stroking his cheek, he lets out an audible shiver. Even his snakes shake a little, letting out a soft hiss as he continues.

On that note, however, good lord does this man enjoy a good frotting session. He is afraid to enter you, like I said, due to his size. Frotting is a good way to atleast feel you, while also granting himself pleasure, without hurting you. He could go on for days and nights just rutting against you, whimpering into your skin, simply basking in the (rather lewd) intimacy of it all.

MESSMER also quite enjoys thigh jobs. He loves them, actually. He sits you in his lap, fucking his cock up into the plush of your thighs, head buried in the crook of your neck as he guides your own rhythm. Of course, he could let you grind by yourself, but he prefers to take matters into his own hands (literally). It’s the least he can offer you (less of a workout) while he lets go of all his sexual frustrations between your thighs. He doesn’t mean to jostle you around as much as he does, he can’t help it.

Speaking of sexual frustrations, this man is PACKED FULL OF THEM. I’m not saying he could be fixed by jacking off, but he could at least feel a little better afterwards. With you, good lord has he calmed down. He’s a lot less tense, happier, perhaps even jubilant. You cannot wash away the fact that his mother is strung up and imprisoned by a god, but perhaps all MESSMER needed was to feel the warmth of another, rather than simmer in the ever-burning flame that he has come to know, and despise.

Now, about his snakes… it takes a long while for him to open up to the idea of them being incorporated into sex. Having them simply turn away makes it feel awkward, of course, but perhaps they could do more…? They do adore you, after all. Perhaps a little impromptu bondage? Keeping your hands tied as he feasts upon you, or perhaps keeping your legs parted as his cock glides against your own sex.

He isn't the most kinkiest guy, of course. Although, “kinky” in the Lands Between and Land of Shadow might be totally different to our description. The most he does is overstimulate you, but never on purpose. Sometimes MESSMER gets too ahead of himself, too wanting. And he takes what he wants, what he needs. Though he always apologizes afterwards, not that you mind. He never takes it too far anyways. He's got quite the stamina, yet still falls short due to his experience (i.e, zero).

Perhaps the two of you cannot be as close as you wish during sex, but that doesn't make the act any less intimate. Especially to him, a life so devoid of such love, only consumed by hate and longing, but never yearning. He's the kind of guy to cry during sex. Partially because it feels so good to him, but also because he has never understood this intimacy. Not until now. All sorts of proclamations of love spill from his lips as he guides your thighs along his lanky cock, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sobbing even softer words. Stroke his hair, whisper even sweeter words to him, and return the sentiment. He’ll cum harder, cry a little bit more, and reward you in kind. He’ll lift his head from your neck and look upon you with a teary-eyed, soft expression, and then kiss you oh so sweetly despite his cum coating your thighs.

MESSMER also likes a little balance in your guys’ sex life. He wants– needs to please you as much as you do him. He lets no deed go unrewarded, if you were to jack him off, he'd return by fingering you. And if you allow him to fuck your thighs, he’ll go down on you with a fervor that is unmatched. He makes sure you cum as much as he does, and vice versa. He’s a very fair man, in that aspect.

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog

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[trulyumai]

Blinded by the Flame

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler x Reader

Warnings: Blood, Death.

Synopsis: Left bloodied and blinded, Messmer searched. Not for revenge, but for his wife.

A/N: So, this fucking sunflower boss is kicking my ass. Im cooked.

Enjoy the story!

“Ah! Mother, please!” In the middle of the room, sat the legend of the flames. 

He balled up in agony, his fingers covered his face— his eyes entirely. 

Blood seeped between the crevices of his digits, his eyes burned with an itch, a feeling he wanted to tear out.

“For how could I— your spawn, be subjected to such a monstrosity of an ending?” The man cried out, his deep wails echoed throughout the chambers around his being. 

Messmer mumbled incessantly, begging and twitching as his vision blackened. 

He had to gain control— before the chaotic numb feeling goes too far, before his mind slips away completely. 

Think of the throne 

Think of the order 

Think of… 

“Wife,” 

He called out, saliva dripped down in a reddened  pace between his lips. 

Messmer reached out to nothing, to the blackness that surrounded him. 

“Wife!” He wailed

“Don’t— don’t leave me alone!” 

The lanky man keeled over, his hands beat against the wooden floor with fury. 

“A-Answer me! Your husband— your Lord demands it!” 

With a slurred speech, he crawled, began to move toward where he thought the door might be. 

His hand met with a stone wall, it stood firm against his blood covered palms. 

He couldn’t think- couldn’t remember the size of the room, the chamber at all for that matter. 

The  pain was piercing his mind, it left fire in its wake. 

“Augh—“ 

The knight continued his mission, persisted onto finding the exit, the way to his home- his love. 

Knees now scratched and molded over with scabs, he stopped his movement, as something cold came into contact with his dirtied palm.

Shakily a pale arm reached down once more and with his posture bent, he leered over the object. 

It was fleshy, wet with a warming substance and–

“No,” 

Firm hands acted, looked for proof that could refuse the perverse thoughts invading his mind. 

“No, no, no!” 

Shaky fingers guided their way to a hand, it was soft, so small that he could cover it whole with his own. 

He came into contact with a cold metal, a band that had been wrapped around the person's finger. 

His darling wife’s finger. 

“—Ah! No, this— this is a warning- a vision, it's a farce!” 

Not bothering to stop the blood from pouring down his chin, it fell atop of the bloodied woman. 

Her eyes remained closed, the middle of her person laid into a deep maroon color. 

As best as the weakened knight could, the woman was pulled towards him. She rested upon his lap like a deity. 

Her head was angled towards him, it sagged into the man’s chest instantly. 

He smelled the apples— the Elder flowers that clung onto her stilled skin.

There was no denying, it was his love that lay crumpled in his arms like a wilted lily. 

Only his cries were heard through the chamber, bouncing off the walls with ease as his wails got louder and louder. 

The cries were wet, uneven hiccups accompanied the tears. 

As if nature mourned her loss; thunder boomed, rain seeped down to drench the land and the wind howled beneath the winking stars. 

The man’s shoulders shook, he howled— it was too much, too far beneath the golden rays he was promised. 

Burying his head into her neck the man refused to move. 

His kin could walk through the gates now— with a cure for his blindness yet he would say put. 

For his protective reign is over. 

Now that his purpose lay still and quiet. 

His grip tightened, wide knuckles turned white with pressure. 

“Thy will bury it all in flame,” 

His voice but a whisper among the pelting rain. 

“I will offer it all; and join thee with the heads of the filthy accusers, who dare put thy to rest.” 

Biting down on his cheeks, more crimson seeped down with unwanted reign. 

“Rest, my wife,” his forehead met with hers, the surface sticky and wet. 

“My love will hold me here—“

“—nnnghh,” 

Thin red brows raised, with his mouth agape he let out a noise like no other. 

“Darling, love, please!” He didn’t know what he was begging for, but it came out in unseen repetition

Her mind was foggy, vision even more so as her arm raised above her being. 

It felt as if daggers pierced through her chest, and needles laid about her arms like unseen birthmarks. 

“–mer, Messm—“ 

“I’m here! Gods, I’m— lovely, hear thy cries, please!” 

The voice sounded like it was under rubble, or even perhaps miles of sand and dirt. 

She felt the light touches, how they guided their way on her cheeks, her jaw. 

It was a loving, soft touch made by roughened hands. 

Familiar hands. 

Tears struck her bloodied cheeks, a sloppy smile graced her expression. 

He hadn’t left her afterall— after the fall, the oncoming of soldiers, he was here, by her side. 

Grunting out a low groan, words fled her cut lips in a rush. 

The woman’s words slurred together, and the man tried to make sense of them.

“Slow down, my wife, slow—“

“Es, mess, yo— your eyes!”

On queue, the blackened holes throbbed. Dark pits of ash wobbled down the crevices and met the material of his armor. 

“Shhh, Darling, it will be alright, it will be alright.” 

Her lips shook with a new level of fear, of total shock. 

“I will take care of it— mother will help. I— it will be alright.” 

“She is the cause of such damnation, how will she help?” Taking her hand in his larger one, Messmer placed kisses upon each finger.

The woman gaped up at him. 

“Why are you so calm, aren’t you angry— hurt?”  

“I… was,” He replied. Still distracted by the kisses he laid upon her skin. 

“But thy are here to calm such a flame, hm?” 

The red knight pushed his woman closer, till the cheek of her face mushed against his dirtied armor.

“Let us get fixed, then such a discussion can be demanded.” 

Ignoring the woman's constant worried touches, a smile adorned his face. 

He wasn't alone, his wife lay huddled between his arms. The unspoken horror lay hushed beneath his heel, stomped and winded. 

Although he was blinded, left to die on his own, he could continue his push to the capital.

For the prophecy has already been foretold. 

The kingdom will be left in ash; with only his wife and him to huddle in the flames of ambition. 

[wxnheart]

Domestic Radahn headcanons! How he is with his partner! What he does in his personal downtime! ANYTHING! 😳🫣

Starscourge Radahn, Domestic Headcanons:

Despite his immense popularity, Radahn is very selective about his inner circle and doubly so about his potential consort.

He is not one for dalliances. His relationship is meant for the long haul. To Radahn, marriage isn't a suggestion, it's an expectation.

Once Radahn finds his other half, however, he's absolutely obsessed with them.

Is the demigod who is almost always under his consort. If Radahn doesn't have other obligations to attend to, you two are inseparable.

He's very much a scholar at heart, too. It's not out of the ordinary to find you two in the personal study or library together, you busy with your devices and his nose in a scroll or book.

Of course, he also likes to keep you occupied in... other places, too. 👀

He's incredibly protective of you, too. Rennala and his siblings were the first to meet you. It was some time before you met the rest of the demigods. You can count on one hand the amount of times you've even stepped foot on Leyndell.

A hopeless romantic through and through. Once, when you two were watching the stars, he always told you to look to them whenever he's away because he'll be doing the same, looking to the sky and thinking of you.

Your first kiss happened under the stars as well.

He enlisted the help of the Redmanes to help propose marriage to you. Jerren officiated your wedding. It wasn't a large affair, just enough that all present could celebrate your love.

Your transition to married life with Radahn is pretty damn smooth (one of the smoothest among the demigods actually). Nothing really changes other than the titles you inherit and Radahn's increasing pride in the fact that he's your husband now.

An aside, but Radahn thinks you're cute when you're angry. You could be arguing your little head off and your giant of a husband is looking down, a serene smile on his face because he's absolutely besotted with his little firecracker consort. Has also kissed you mid-argument, too, because, again, you're so cute.

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

Hmm...what about a list of what kind of kisser would any characters would be like and how they taste like? 🤔

Hueheuheuheue. Without further ado:

Gentle pecks, light brushes, soft kisses:

Radagon (the poster boy; you're more likely to dominate the kiss than he is) - tastes sweet with a subtle, spicy undercurrent.

Rennala - tastes rather sweet and... floral. She tastes like love.

Rogier - tastes like... sorrow. sweet, hidden sorrow.

Diallos - tastes like roses.

D (Devin) - tastes like despair and loss.

Ranni - tastes like fruit.

Fia - tastes like mystery and leaves you feeling more discontent than anything. It's like death looms near...

Firm, thorough, and leaves you breathless:

Morgott - tastes like pastries and the earth.

Kalé - tastes like comfort and the seasoned meat he just cooked.

D (Darian) - tastes like... bitter conviction.

Godwyn - of course, he tastes good. of course. like... like sweet wine.

Radahn - oh sweetie, that was some good ass ale.

Nepheli Loux - she tastes like strength and devotion.

You call that a kiss? Let them show you how it's done:

Patches - tastes like trickery and some exotic food he's learned to cook.

Varré - oh, lambkin need you really ask?

Gideon - surprisingly like really sweet tea. smug bastard.

Mohg - *smirks in Nihil*

Godfrey - tastes like war and grit. Mulled ale, too.

Godrick - tastes like a closet submissive. I don't know who the hell he's fooling with this kiss.

[salemwasnteverhere]

༒︎𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢 ℜ𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔨𝔞! 𝔵 𝔉𝔢𝔪!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯༒︎

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑅𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑎 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑝 (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

Ps this is kinda shitty since I just had an edible

SFW

Ever since you were a young girl, you had this effect on people.

Family were more protective of you and friends didn't want to be far from you for long

Turning into a young woman only made it worse.

While you didn't live with family anymore, your neighbors were too nosy and your friends would argue over who hung out with you that day

Of course, you were oblivious to this. You were oblivious to everything.

You left your village at age 23 when a giant ran through and killed nearly everyone.

It's the lands in between what did you expect?

But you got on a horse with all your belongings in a bag and made your way to the erdtree.

You didn't have a goal, hell you didn't even have a map, but it seemed as if the erdtree beckoned you to it.

You got to Limgrave and explored, making friends with a few tarnished. Such nice people if you ignore the smell of death.

Do they wash? Apparently not.

Then you got to Stormveil Castle untouched.

Margit stopped you, of course, thinking you were another tarnished. But when he saw you it was like someone spoke to him.

So he stepped aside and let you pass. You walked right through the front gate, no one looked at you and they didn't dare touch you.

You were confused but grateful to get through the castle quicker.

Liurnia was so big you kinda got dizzy.

Things here were more hostile than you thought and sneaking past them was harder. But you managed.

I would get into the nitty-gritty of how you got to the capital but would you read all of that?

Let's say you finally got to the capital.

At first, you think it's beautiful and you're so excited to explore.

Next thing you know your running from foot soldiers yelling about Marika and Radagons consort.

After that, you hid in an alleyway to catch your breath when you got the shit knocked out of you.

Well good news cause you woke up in a plush bed wearing clothing that covered what it needed.

A white dress that had leg slits, the top connected to a gold clasp around your neck.

You noticed your head was laid on something hard and warm.

Sitting up you see Lord Radagon himself laying next to you.

He was asleep and his long red hair was spread on the pillows.

One of his arms was wrapped around your waist and the other hand was under his head.

You, being the oblivious dumbass you are, saw nothing of the situation and laid back down.

:3 <==== you

And when you woke up it was Marika.

You tried to be polite. Called her 'my queen', tried bowing, but she shushed you and pulled you close.

She explained how she and Radagon were both there, sharing a body, sharing you.

And who would say no to riches, safety, mind-blowing sex, and basically anything you want?

NSFW

Didn't take long for them to get handy with you.

I mean your first day with them Marika had already cupped your breasts while sleeping. An accident she said.

But it's not like you were against it. The two of them were so attractive, so attending and so teasing that you found yourself dripping just by talking to one of them.

Now who had you first? Trick question it was both.

There you were on the bed, naked and sprawled out with Radagon eating you out.

His mouth was skilled and he knew every spot to suck and flick.

Marika was the one whose hand caressed your breasts, squeezing and kneading them with a tender touch.

It was only after you came twice on his tongue that Radagon finished slid into you.

His cock was perfect, practically made for you.

It hit every spot and his tip pressed to your cervix.

His thrusts were gentle and intense at first, easing you in and stretching you out.

Marika spoke from him, praising you and coddling you.

"Our angel."

"Just like that, lift your hips up pretty."

"Don't hold back, let us hear you."

"Yes. Say our names just like that..."

Radagon groaned when you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his chest.

His thrusts got harder, faster, his movement more primal that anything else.

He wouldn't break you, but he would destroy you.

He practically lifted you off the bed, driving into you.

The room was filled with skin slapping and your cries of ecstasy, not to mention Marika cooing when you clawed at Radagons back and did like 2 damage.

Your orgasm came first, blinding white light clouded your vision as you squirt all over Radagons cock, your head falling back.

Radagon groaned as he came, stuffing your cunt full of his cum.

If you get pregnant then they'll have to expand the family tree.

Marika has too many damn kids.

Anyways :3

This was your first time with them so they didn't want to push you too far.

[emptymasks]

Uh oh new fandom activated! Elden Ring (and Shadow of the Erdtree) stickers, badges and keychains are done and up on Etsy! I'm really happy with how these little guys turned out.

I just wanted to draw Messmer and then maybe a couple others and then all of this happened. Come find me fellow people who want to comfort Messmer and give him a little kiss!

Offering keychains is scary. I make the badges and stickers myself, but the keychains I have to commit to ordering from a manufacturer and have to order a set amount and hope I sell enough. This is probably going to be my last time risking selling keychains due to the loss of money if I only sell a couple. So I hope these do well! Reblogging and sharing always helps so much, if you can't or don't want to purchase, just getting the listings in front of more eyes is super helpful towards possibly getting sales.

I can’t link to my Etsy without risking Tumblr hiding the post from tag search results, but the link is in my pinned post, my carrd, I’m emptymasks on Etsy. Reblogs help support artists more than likes ❤️

[ID: Individual pixel art chibi drawings of 11 characters from the video game 'Elden Ring' and it's new DLC 'Shadow of the Erdtree' that are available as stickers. These drawings are also available as badges where they are placed inside circles to show what they will look like as physical button badges, some of them with plain colour backgrounds and some with 1-3 different pride flags as examples of how you can customise the backgrounds. 5 of the designs are also available as keychains.]

[lxvvie]

Being in a relationship with Starscourge Radahn consists of:

Out of all the demigods, Radahn (and Godwyn) experiences the easiest transition into a romantic relationship.

Despite this transition, Radahn is incredibly selective about his choice of partner. Watching the way his parents' relationship crashed and burned brutally has had a profound impact on him. He's in it for the long haul, and has that expectation of you, too.

Not if but when it gets to that point, you two will marry. The engagement period will be fairly short because as soon as you say yes, it's off to the altar for him.

Stargazing together and your beloved General sometimes showing you the extent of his magic. You see firsthand why he's called the Starscourge.

Being paraded around. Radahn is very proud to have you as his consort and yes, all of the Lands Between will know of your existence.

Riding on Leonard. Also spoiling Leonard alongside Radahn.

Watching Radahn and his men train because the eye candy is hard to ignore. He knows this and you're convinced he makes every effort to get you flustered.

Alongside Jerren, being one of the few who wholly has his ear. Sometimes you two even team up against Radahn and it's an amusing sight to behold.

Having the privilege of experiencing Radahn the man. He's an open, jovial, and honest fellow to his men but even they don't get to see the Radahn that you see.

Having your own personal body pillow in the form of Radahn. He also doubles as your bed and your throne because... he's massive, okay?

Being subject to his gravity magic sometimes because he's a prankster like that. It's not uncommon to look up and the next thing you know, you're floating midair.

And speaking of gravity magic, he puts it to, uh... good use in the comfort of your bedchamber. 👀

Realizing that Radahn is essentially a cat because it's almost as if he's purring whenever you run your hands through his hair.

And speaking of hair, styling and/or playing with it when you're relatively bored or just... out of habit.

[freyito]

ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʜ ʙᴇᴀᴛꜱ

✭ pairing(s): messmer x gn reader

★ 'hearth' /härTH/ ✱ used as a symbol of one's home.

✩ in which: messmer understands the meaning of home. or you had a bad day. (as is common in the lands between)

✧ a/n: messmerrrrrr i missss yewwww (writing this while i stare at my messmer statue)

🗒 cw: gn reader, tarnished reader, comfort, proofread

✎ wc: 1.3k

Comfort is a lost art on Messmer. Long gone are the days of being cradled in his mothers arms when he had a bad dream, or her soft words when he had a bad day. What he was left with now was an emptiness that he never could seem to fill, one that clawed its way through his heart. No matter how many times he had raised his spear, how many times he had repeated those words, over and over, nothing made home there.

Aside from now, at least. He could wallow as much as he wanted to, mourn what he wanted with his mother, and that wouldn’t change the fact that he had a Tarnished curled up on his chest, sobbing. You were the first Tarnished to not raise your weapon when faced with him, and in a moment of weakness, he was compelled to take you in. ‘Like a pet’ he rationalized in his head. He didn’t expect to get so attached, but within you, he saw something more. Stripped of your light, yet still standing. For once, to him, it was honorable. And so, here you were, head pressed against his chest, heaving softly as you tried to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes.

He is so very warm, akin to the warmest blanket you’ve known against the cold that had gradually seeped into your very bones. The cold that persisted within the Lands Between. It was a bitter feeling you were rather intimate with, the way your fingers stung no matter the padding of your armor, your bones weary and tired. You had grown so used to the abuse thrown your way, the way the world piled its own weight against you every step of the way. You were familiar with just how deep the world cut into you, and always prided yourself on just how much you could withstand. The scorn others cast upon you, the reminder that Tarnished were lesser, it was crammed into your head. And yet, you persevered. All you could do was wipe the blood, spit, and rain off your face and continue on.

But it wore you down. The Lands Between could not suffer sensitivity, and all you could ever do was keep walking forward. You could not rest, no, for it felt as if the entire world was against you. All you could do was kill, push forward, and kill again. It has inevitably taken its toll, as all things do. You could care less about the Grace of Marika now, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of something. Preferably your partner. And yet, even as you curled up against Messmer’s chest, his warmth does nothing to dull the biting cold that’s made its home within your very bones. You wanted nothing more than to be swaddled and coddled like a babe, sang to sleep, even. You wanted your cries to be heard, not pushed aside in favor of battle.

And Messmer knew that feeling all too well. To be shunned yet still borderline worshiped, somehow honored despite being such a wretched thing. And yet, he fell short. All he could do was simply breathe, too afraid to do anything with his hands or console you with his words. Despite how much he longed for the same treatment you crave so desperately at this moment, he had never thought of how he would go about it. And yet, he couldn’t just let you wallow alone, he wouldn’t let you suffer another minute, not alone, at least.

You take a deep shuddering breath, unable to quell the uncertainty and fear that ails you. Even the thought of resting was horrifying, all your body had known was strife and to take a break was as if you were asking yourself to die. The creeping dread intertwined with the pain spreading through your chest, which only made for a worse reaction.

Tentatively, Messmer’s fingers stroke through your hair, his nails scratching ever so lightly at your scalp. He is careful not to be too rough, quite aware of his size compared to yours. His other hand is placed firmly on the small of your back, shuffling beneath you, readjusting your body so your ear lay against his chest. His breathing is steady, chest rising and falling calmly as you whine. His heart beats against your ear, even, yet it stutters every now and then. Whether it’s his nerves or just how flustered he is to be so close to you, you are unsure. But it’s a gentle lullaby, something that stills your racing mind, yet doesn’t stop the tears that flow.

His serpents tense ever so slightly, unsure of what to do as is Messmer. Yet, they relax as your sobs slow, resting over your tired limbs. All Messmer can do is offer soft shushes, in the same way his mother had offered when he was a fussy babe. Yet, he feels as if he is lacking, missing something. All he wants is to quell your fears and calm you down, and yet he knows he cannot tell you that everything will be okay. He knows that is a lie. But he does not deny you the catharsis of bawling until your throat is raw. He can do more, he tells himself, but he freezes in his own fluster, unable to act on what he wishes to do. At least for the time being. He simply stares down at you as you sob helplessly against him.

What follows is a painful silence in the hollow chamber, wracked with your sniffles and heaves. Messmer shifts near uncomfortably beneath you, not because he is embarrassed, but simply because he doesn’t know what to do. Or if what he’s about to do would be seen as okay. He feels rather bold, yet anxious as his hands drift to your waist, pushing you up until your face is level with his. Close, so very close, is all he can think as he looks upon your crying face, wet, puffy, and vulnerable. You watch as his face softens quickly, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, his eye glossy, as if he, too, is feeling your pain.

He presses his lips to your cheekbone, just under your eye, a gentle kiss to ward away your fear. You can feel his entire body heat up by this simple act, and even in your blurred vision you can tell just how bright his cheeks burned. He had kissed you a million times before, and yet he could never dull the awkwardness or rush he felt. Yet, he presses another kiss to your cheek, and another. He continues to kiss away your tears, and in doing so, turns your harsh shuddering into light laughs. His kisses are ticklish, and while you were almost content to wallow in your misery, you couldn’t help but laugh. Which has Messmer beaming.

A warmth spreads through him that was just once kindling, now a blazing flame. One that is imperceptible to you, but means the world and more to Messmer. It quells the ever-burning flame within, the one he had learned to hate and yet wield as a weapon. Replaced by something that was just simply warm. Like a summers day, one that has long since faded from the Land of Shadow, yet akin nonetheless. He can’t put his finger on it. When he looks at you, however, that warmth grows hotter, and hotter, and then dulls into the comforting embrace of a blanket, or the fur of a kitten underneath his fingers. It is not like the love that he sought and begged for all these years, no, it is something different. He knows it is different. And as he looks upon your tear streaked face, still slightly red, but graced with a smile nonetheless, he himself cannot help but smile. A gentle look that he has not shared in ages.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[mydadleft471]

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Summary: Messmer decides to surprise you in more ways than one.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings tho, just me loving my fiery redhead.

MESSMER LOVERS COME EAT!

I finally got the courage to upload the fic I was working on! Everyone was so nice (and starving for Messmer content) so I folded lmao. Please enjoy and understand that I have never written anything like this, especially with ye olde English. It's a pain.

“I have something I wish to show thee.” Messmer’s low voice cut through the silence reverberating in his chamber.

“What is it?” You look up from patching a hole in one of his cloaks.

“I cannot say. It is a surprise.” His eye twinkled with something akin to mischief. You put down your needle and gently fold his cloak, putting it on your chair to finish later.

“A surprise for me? Are you feeling alright, My Lord?” You smile at him from where he towers above you. 

“Shush. Wilt thou follow?” 

“Always,” you say.

He leads you down countless flights of stairs and through the castle’s corridors. Down a hallway, you follow him as he steps into a lift that takes you to a part of the castle that is unfamiliar to you. You assumed you had explored everything by now, but it seems you were wrong. Messmer had given you permission to freely roam the castle, and you had spent a lot of time exploring the various rooms. You had gotten lost many times within the many twisting and confusing hallways, but the castle staff always led you back to your quarters. 

The path from the lift leads out to a part of the castle almost entirely flooded. This seems like a place that hasn’t been occupied in many years. Some of the buildings you can see appear to be collapsing and debris litters the area. The water churns uneasily below you, as if something lurks in the depths. Taking a few steps away from the ledge, you stare out into the water that swallows surrounding buildings.

“What is it?” Messmer asks. He senses your trepidation in going any further, though you don’t think you have much to worry about with a powerful demigod at your side. Still, this place sets your nerves alight and has you on high alert.

“I’ve never seen this place before. Where are we?”

He speaks as if it’s common knowledge. “The Church District.”

“What happened here?”

He takes a second before he responds in a flat tone. “It does not matter.” Noticing your face falling slightly, he gives you a small smile. “Thy surprise is near. Come.”

You continue to follow him, your footfalls mere echoes of his much heavier ones. You wonder where he is taking you, and why he decided to surprise you. Though you have gotten much closer to him throughout your time in the Realm of Shadow, you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he wants to show you something himself. So many unanswered questions, though Messmer brings about many of those. Still, you cannot complain about how well he treats you now after you’ve earned some of his trust. You are safe within his walls, and you are welcome.

Though you wish he’d let you into his heart and mind more often, you take what you can get.

Finally, he stops in a room with a large, and complete, statue of Queen Marika. Many throughout the Realm of Shadow have been beheaded, sending icy chills through you when you first arrived, but this one is intact. The only signs of damage have been from the apparent age of the statue.

“Dost thou trust me?”

His question catches you off guard. Looking up at him, he looks vulnerable and almost uncomfortable. 

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have followed if I didn’t.” You smile at him to ease his tension.

He relaxes slightly. “Of course. I will ask thee to trust me again.”

You shoot him a puzzled look. How could you trust him any more than you already have?

“Close thine eyes. I shall lead thee, hand in hand.”

The prospect of him holding your hand makes heat rush to your cheeks, but you comply. Closing your eyes, you hold out your hands, and a few seconds later, he grabs them in his much larger ones. He holds them delicately, as if you might break if he dares to squeeze your hands. His skin is surprisingly smooth and warm. 

“I will ensure thou dost not fall and injure thyself..” 

“I’d appreciate that.”

He chuckles at your comment, a sound so rare and pleasant you want to hear it again and again. He begins walking, gently guiding you down a hill and you soon feel sunlight on your skin. The air feels lighter and there is a pleasant smell of lavender and fresh grass in the air. You wonder where you could possibly be. You haven’t seen much greenery in the Realm of Shadow.

After a few minutes he stops and lets go of your hands. You instantly miss his warmth, but you soon feel the heat of him behind you. You keep your eyes closed out of obedience and trust; you know he would not harm you.

His hands gently find your waist and he moves you a few steps to the left. Satisfied, he lowers a hand over your eyes to ensure you will not open them prematurely.

“This place is sacred. Inviting thee here was not a spontaneous act.” His voice is a mere whisper in your ear. You can’t tell whether to be scared or excited for what he will soon allow you to see.

He moves his hand away from your eyes, but they remain closed. You will not sully his trust. 

You can hear the smile in his voice. He’s pleased by your obedience. 

“Open thine eyes.”

You do, and you are immediately greeted with a grassy field speckled with vibrant flowers. You’ve never seen so many in one place. You think it would take all day to identify them. Trickles of gold sit suspended in the air like shattered stained glass and the sunlight kisses your skin sweetly. Not far up a hill is a small village made up of a few wooden houses. They look old and mostly abandoned. You take in the beauty before you. Not even Leyendell was this spectacular.

“Thou’rt pleased, I take it?” His voice wavers slightly with uncertainty.

“This is a most wonderful surprise, My Lord. Thank you for bringing me here.” You look up at Messmer, whose golden eye seems to shine brighter in the sanctity of this place.

“Forget formalities here.” He sits down in the soft grass and you are soon to join him. He looks relaxed, even happy, here.

“May I ask where we are now?” You idly skim your fingertips over the silky petals of the flowers swaying in the breeze around your skirt.

“Mother’s home. Her village before she became a God.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. It takes you a few moments to gather yourself enough to speak. “Queen Marika lived here?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Long ago.”

You wonder if Marika wanted Messmer to guard her old home, or if he does it out of love for her. You’ve seen the state of other Shamans within his infirmary, his medics working day and night to try and reverse the torture they’d went through. You knew Marika was a Shaman herself, but you’d never realized this place was originally her home. Your heart hurts for the God-Queen. Behind all her power was a girl who wanted her people safe.

You sigh, and Messmer shoots you a curious look. “This is the first time I’ve seen Marika as a person. Knowing she lived here, knowing she suffered… I understand now.”

Messmer reaches up and takes his helmet off, gently placing it to his side. “Mother desired revenge for her peoples’ suffering, and I became her instrument to do so here, in the Land of Shadow.”

“Did you want this?” 

He closes his eye. “Mother has endured what a thousand people could not. I will ensure she receives her long-awaited deliverance.” He dodged the question. He does not want this, but he desires to avenge Marika.

“I know you won’t answer me truthfully, and we don’t have to talk about this anymore. But know this: you are not ‘The Impaler’ to me.”

“Thank you.” His response is so quiet you almost can’t hear it, despite being right next to him.

As promised, you change the subject. “Have you brought others here?”

He looks away and you can see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I have not. The first to lay eyes on this place is thee.” He admits.

“Why?”

“I-“ he begins. “Surely thou must know thy importance to me, yes?” 

The realization hits you. 

This is his way of saying he loves you.

You scoot closer to him and lay your head against his arm. You feel him tense, then slowly begin to relax. One of his snakes gently perches itself on your shoulder. You smile.

“You can touch me, you know.” You reassure him. “You won’t break me.”

Silence hangs in the breeze as you wait for him to respond.

“Dost thou understand my reason for bringing thee here?”

You nod against him. “I think so.”

He moves away from you, earning himself a confused look, then he slowly grabs your hands and pulls you closer until you are comfortably sitting between his legs. You look up at him and see that his face is almost as red as his hair. He is adorable when he blushes.

You could get used to this.

“You will forgive me if I am too presumptuous. I am… not accustomed to touch, yet I want thee closer.” His soft, silky voice makes your heart melt.

“I want you closer too. It’s okay.” You cup his face with both hands, and though it’s a simple gesture, he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. His eye closes and you try to memorize the look of peace etched on his face.

“With thee, I am content.” He whispers to you.

“Then I’ll see to it that we’re never separated.” 

His eye flutters open and he hazily looks down at your lips. His hand engulfs your cheek and you feel the warmth radiating from his palm.

So many have met their demise from the man sitting in front of you now, content and complacent, and that thought sends shivers down your spine.

“No man nor God could tear thee away from me. That is a promise.” 

He leans forward and kisses you. His lips are soft and he pulls you closer to him and his hands are splayed possessively over your face and back. You don’t want to pull away, and you get the feeling he doesn’t want to either.

You are his as he is yours.

[moodymisty]

Author's Note: I was originally going to pair this with a drawing I had been working on, but I don't think I'll have the gusto or confidence to finish it. I didn't hate the snippet though, So I figured I would just post it. If you want the rest of the idea, I guess say? I don't know who here enjoys Elden Ring besides myself and one or two others.

Relationships: Messmer (Pre shattering)/Fem!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Excessive verbosity, Elizabethan pronouns

The flowers lay against the red fabric of her dress, bright like freshly spilled blood against a sea of gentle greens, pinks, blues. The flower held plucked between her fingertips now bereft of the roots that gave it life is a gentle orange, flowing into yellow like the hottest part of a flame. She simply examines it, as if there's something within it's simple nature that she finds interesting.

Messmer stands in silence watching petals of the flower field flow in a gentle breeze, hair red like fire sticking to his lips.

He approaches, feeling the brush of soft velvety petals against exposed skin. He doesn't know how long he's stood here, but his curiosity about such a peculiar mortal doing quite honestly nothing at all; It has inspired him to take a more keen interest.

“Thou hast remained raptured by such a boring flower for quite a time.”

She turns, looking up towards him. Her shift in movement alters her body, showing the flowers and grass that has molded to the ground underneath her body. She has been here for a bit- the flowers make no effort to defy the position she has crushed them into.

“Lord Messmer, I am so sorry, should I not be here?”

He stares downward, singular eye slightly hooded. This field is nothing; If there are plans for it none have come to fruition, and still now it remains as another sunlight extravagance of Queen Marika. There is barely even a path, only a small winding remnant of one being overtaken by more flowers.

She looks up at him, awaiting the answer that will send her away. The way she looks up at him is unfamiliar; He is the hideous nest of the abyssal serpent, and yet her gaze isn't wavered.

“No. Thine with is thy own,” The bottom head of his eternal woven snakes drifts close in its monotonous swaying, though she pays no mind. Perhaps she doesn’t notice, or simply doesn’t care. “If thou wants to play with flowers, I needn’t care.”

She looks away, her fingers twirling the flower stem between them. Adrift in thought but for only a moment.

“Though... I should go; I am sure he wonders where I am by now.” She rises to her feet, the flower falling from her hand and getting forever lost among the sea of so many others. He wonders who she's referring to, but not for long.

Messmer leans over and holds her shoulder firm for a moment, stopping her walk. He leans down further, takes another flower of the same color, and plucks it from its life to wilt in her hands as he gently places it there.

How cruel he is, even to things so simple as flowers.

“Take one with thee. A reminder to return.”

[trulyumai]

care for me?

pairing: Messmer the Impaler / Wife! Reader

synopsis: exhausted, you try to stay up for the arrival of your husband. only he doesn’t come back the same man.

wk: 1.1k

warnings: mention of death, violence. mostly fluff

A/N: EJ come, water! (no seriously enjoy Messmer lovers) this was a request, thank you for the suggestion anonymous!

Enjoy!

It was so cold.

Dreary winds busted across the little home, invading the shack with freezing temperatures that nipped at one’s bones.

The girl of said residence could not battle such a feat alone; so she lay bundled up in many cottons and wools that cascaded her form just in front of the fire pit.

With her teeth clanking together, she drew in a particular large blanket that seemed to swallow her whole being.

She was trying— attempting, to stay away for her husbands arrival.

“He— he will be here soon,” giving herself words of comfort, little fingers smoothed over the skin of her arm.

Back and forth they went, seeking any form of warmth they could gather.

But, she was getting tired. It had been hours since his departure.

So, with a defeated huff, her lashes fluttered.

Eyes now shut, her form slumped against the wooden boards.

Maybe she could greet her doting husband upon the fields of dreams

Everything went wrong.

His mother… his own mother…

A cry, weak and low left Messmers lips as he shuddered in pain—agony.

Instead of telling the citizens, the people what had been done of the shadow lands of between, his mother lied.

She blamed the knight of flames for his part in the destruction. Blamed him for the plans, the deaths, the innocent lives gone—

“O, Mother!” Just outside the home, Messmer sat. His head tilted towards the ground in shame as his long nails twisted and pulled at his cheeks.

Blood seeped down almost instantly, yet he couldn’t find the energy to care.

Tears streamed down his face in waves, meeting the bloody patches along the way.

His nails tore and scratched at any skin that came in contact, only making his wounds worse.

“Does thou… not perceive mine own consciousness?” A yellowed Iris glanced forth upon the house.

His home.

Only now realizing he made it back, a shudder ran through him.

“Wife,” he whimpered. “Please… forgive me.”

Only the sound of wind greeted his ears, as his now bloody and weakened form pushed against the stone. Slowly making his way to the wooden door merely a foot away.

The flowers lay dormant, the fields around him lay bare and dead. Much like the lands he left behind his wake.

With bodies, upon bodies—

“Augh! No more!” With a slam, the door receded against his strength, banging out against the wall behind.

The ball of blankets jumped up in surprise, a head peeked out from the warm egg shaped cocoon the girl placed herself in.

Messmers eyes softened upon such a sight, he couldn’t help but let out a little smile seeing the girls attempt to warm herself.

“little wife,” he called. Already on his way to the girl sitting about the floor.

“husband!” she cried, reaching out her hands to signal for the man’s embrace.

He gladly accepted, sweeping her into his arms and cradling her head soothingly.

“I’ve missed you,” little sweet kisses dotted across his neck, to his jaw and up the face.

“What— what happened?” Her lips met with a red and open wound, to which the flame winced at.

He had forgotten about such a display.

“It’s nothing, dear wife,” big palms rubbed along her sides. “an accident, nothing more.”

Fear began to corrode his mind, it crumbled and tore at the seams of sanity.

People will come for him.

For his betrayal, his slaughter.

His wife— gods what has he done?

A hand pulled him back, it was soft and careful as it cradled the man’s left cheek.

“It’s okay,”

She didn’t know what was wrong, only that something was amiss.

For the man was troubled, that much was clear.

“I… listen closely, my heart.” Setting her upon the ground he looked down at her form, so much smaller than his own.

His back had to bend uncomfortably to meet her gaze but he ignored such pain.

Big palms surrounded her face, angling her eyes to meet with his.

“We need to go, does thou need anything before our leave?”

“Leave?” She shrieked. “This is our home… why would we leave so—“

“Please, please wife understand me so. I cannot dote on such a matter yet but please.” A desperate yellowed eye looked upon both of hers

“I will protect thee. With mine own blade, with mine own body. But we need to leave, most ardently”

Confused and somewhat scared, the girl could do nothing but nod her head. Even when he placed a mirage of kisses upon her, she did nothing but look upon the man.

Almost as if to study him— understand him.

Soon, she was lightly pushed into the direction of their room.

“Grab what thy can carry and need.” Messmer had said.

So she did.

She grabbed her favorite blanket, the one that had been with her since birth.

She grabbed her jewelry box that lay full of gifts from the knight.

And finally, she grabbed the last vials of homemade oils. Lavender scented, which always seemed to calm her husband down whenever it graced her soft skin.

Seeing his wife’s hands full, Messmer acted. Gently picking her up, the objects shifted about as a bridal style posture was given upon her.

Head now bumping with his armor with every movement, she decided to speak.

“Are you alright, husband?”

This was an opening.

A pristine opportunity to tell her of his forthcomings.

Of his tidings with his mother.

Of the burning lands.

Even of the soon to be castle that will be there home for god knows how long.

Messmer only looked down, peacefully admiring his wife so.

“Everything will be fine, my wife. Thou can sleep while the travel begins.”

He was a coward. Biting down upon his cheeks blood ran across his tongue, to the back of his throat.

Past all the lies and short comings, two thing stay true; he adored his wife

and he would do anything to protect her.

[wxnheart]

yandere!messmer x reader.

Messmer who encounters his mongrel intruder time and time again, and time and time again, they fall only to come back and challenge him. And time and time again, he finds himself fixated on you and your determination to see your journey through. The same journey put upon you by his mother. The same mother who doomed him to hell.

Messmer who figures he could kill two birds with one stone. If Marika could deny him the tranquility of life, he would deny her and her purpose the freedom that came with death. And he would do so with you by his side. And so Messmer waits for your return, his tainted love bereft of light.

Messmer who sits and contemplates your end goal. What could you possibly hope to achieve on this journey? What could you possibly hope to gain from Marika's ambitions? No matter. What you want, what you seek, the Light couldn't possibly give, but his flame would provide you with warmth.

Messmer who almost contemplates pursuing you himself rather than letting you come to him again. What an interesting turn of events. Initially, you were met with faint incredulity. Faint incredulity became annoyance, annoyance became anticipation, and anticipation became impatience for who else could fall and rise back up again to challenge him but his determined love? He loves and hates you for it.

Messmer who begins to obsessively track your whereabouts from the comfort of his hold. He has eyes and ears everywhere in this shadowed land. Nothing goes unnoticed under his watch. Messmer who feels this... exhilaration when he learns you're near. And so he prepares to strike.

Messmer who's never fully embraced the excitement of battle until now as his plan comes to fruition. Messmer whose strikes are hard-hitting, his evades frustrating, and his anger and desire clear for all to see. Except, perhaps, for you.

Messmer who defeats you yet again, but instead of dealing the finishing blow, long fingers grab your chin and—wait, he's kissing you. Messmer who tightens his grip as you try to pull away. It's firm, overwhelming, and harsh.

Messmer whose smile is small and serene compared to your confused countenance, singular eye glowing ominously in the half-lit room. Messmer whose smile remains intact even as you question and try to pull away. Messmer who simply murmurs, "My consort..." and your blood runs cold.

Messmer, he who was denied peace, finds his own, and it comes at your expense. If he could not be free of the abyss, you cannot run toward the light. All is as it should be: his mother's dream and your ambition reduced to ashes by his flame. And peace comes at last.

[abyssal-maiden]

NSFW Messmer Mumblings 2 (MDNI: 18+)

Wake up babe that bitch is horny posting about Messmer again 😭Sorry loves I missed the first train after class😘 here is your dessert ✨

Touchstarved Messmer: Who’s large hands coil around each thigh every time his tongues writes a sweet tune atop that sensitive little nub. Every time you cum on his lips he digs his tongue in, stimulating the nerves as they contract against his hot breath.

Touchstarved Messmer: Who pushes your legs apart when you face each other, he loves to watch the outline of his demigod girth pumping into your tight little cunt and tummy. slapping your tits softly as they bounce against the impact.

Touchstarved Messmer: Who picks you up like a toy, holding you by the hips and bucking his throbbing length straight into your cervix too hard. He’s sorry baby he’ll be more gentle next time.

Touchstarved Messmer: Who’s fingers slip into your mouth whenever you bounce on his cock. He loves to feel your tongue swirling around his nail while he spills that lava like cum into your core.

Touchstarved Messmer: Who uses your neck as a grip handle when he’s feeling extra generous with his length, thrusting up into your fluttering slit like a mad man as he whimpers in ecstasy how he loves the way you wrap around him.

Touchstarved messmer: Who’s index breaches your little asshole with a heated grip, ramming his cock into the depths of your slippery hole while he begs you to coat his shaft with all your love.