#its about would they even partake in these kinks

[dashiellqvverty]

personally i think having strong opinions about which character tops is fine as long as you are conscious of like whether you are basing these things on stereotypes and stuff (which is why i DONT like when ppl have strong opinions (and i do mean OPINIONS as opposed to just reading preferences) about who tops in rpf because theyre not characters and you dont know them so like what are you basing that on). and sometimes these headcanons might adhere to stereotypes which is like fine whatever as long as thats not the REASON u know? i

also think its kind of not great to suggest that headcanoning characters as switches or having an even balance (or just not having an opinion on who would be a top) is the only way to "be normal" about gay characters like actually a lot of real life gay people are strict tops and bottoms! like yes more ppl switch than stereotypical depictions make you believe but its still a part of like gay culture and stuff.

like personally i USUALLY am less concerned about who is topping bc i mostly read d/s fic and i DO have very strong opinions about those headcanons like it is about accurate characterization to me. and sometimes who tops is part of that also but i am MORE concerned with who doms and what theyre into whether they're topping or not. but like you still gotta be aware of Why you headcanon things a certain way

[aerynwrites]

It's About The Chase

Halsin x Fem!Reader

A/N: FINALLY finished this halsin pic I've been working on for the past like month lmao. a huge shout out to @princessbatears @hdlynnslibraryand @maybegefor being the pushes I needed to finish it! I hope you all enjoy! <3

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT! Hunter/Prey Kink, halsin is chasing reader through the forest lol, P in V sex, cream pie, cock warming, marking, biting, rough sex, soft sex, fluff, slight aftercare, cuddling.

Summary: You and Halsin have been together for sometime now, so when Halsin approaches you and asks you to partake in a Ritual custom of his people to further your relationship...who are you to deny him?

Orange embers add to the number of stars in the night sky before flickering out of existence against the blanket of night.

The fire roars fierce before you; orange, yellow, and red tangling together in a dangerous dance to the euphony of songs around you.  Your heart races, blood thrumming through your veins like a raging river.  The heat from the flames only adds to the heat bubbling beneath your skin, making the fingers dragging across its surface seem startlingly cool in contrast. 

You look down at your friend, Avella, as she drags her fingers down the length of your arm in mesmerizing patterns, leaving a shimmering trail of golden paint in their wake. You watch in fascination as the liquid coats her finger tips, dripping in a glimmering trail down the back of her hand before she moves to retrieve more from the bowl at her feet. 

You’ve only ever bared witness to this ritual once, Halsin wanting you to see it before committing to it with him, and while you remember it being just as intriguing, it feels…different, now. 

Now that it’s happening to you. 

Avella, one of your closest friends, had helped you prepare for the ritual just earlier. The golden paths she is painting now, are a continuation of the ones that snake beneath the simple white dress adorning your body.  

You look across from you to see Halsin garnering the same treatment, except the paint adorning his skin is a crimson red, appropriately matching the tattoos inked into him. The only thing that separates you from one another are the flames, making him flicker in and out of view as the fire laps at each new log added to it. 

But even from this distance you can see the way he looks at you. See the way his eyes darken with hunger. The way his shoulders tense and his fists clench from where they rest at his sides. 

He’s ready to pounce. A predator with his prey in sight but just out of reach. 

At least for now. 

You can feel your breathing speed up,  becoming shallow, chest rising and falling quicker as Avella finishes her artwork and the harmony of songs and drums alike come to a complete stop around you.

One of the elders, a druid you’ve only met on occasion, comes to stand in front of the fire, between you and Halsin. He speaks in an old language, one you don’t understand before slipping back into common. Yet, even then, the words do not reach you. 

The elder speaks eloquently about tonight's ritual, describing everything Halsin had already prepared you for. 

This ritual is a sacred one, that you know. Halsin, like many druids, believed that life, like nature, is a fluid thing. Not to be bound to one person or place or thing in one's life. Yet, this very practice seemed to contradict that very principle. You still had lingering questions, one that Halsin promised would be answered come the end of tonight. 

Because, by the end of the night you would be Halsin’s, and he would be yours. Completely and wholly, under the watchful eye of Silvanus himself, you and Halsin would become one with the natural world he holds so dear, cementing one another as an inseparable part of each other's existence. 

You only realize the elder had ended his prayers by the low blow of a horn, and the steady reverberation of the drums picking up once more. Your eyes dart from where you had been staring off, to your partner across the fire, his brows drawn in slight concern at your hesitance. 

That’s right…you must run. 

And so you do.

Turning on your heel, you take off into the forest behind you, the moss and fallen leaves surprisingly springy beneath your bare feet as you dash deeper into the trees embrace. 

The singing grows louder behind you at the start of your retreat, but as you put distance between yourself and the others, the sounds grow softer, quieter – muffled by nature until the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, the blood rushing in your ears, and the rustle of foliage beneath your feet. 

Only then do you pause, not knowing how far you’ve gone or where you’re even going. It’s then that Halsin’s words echo in your mind, your eyes slipping close as you try to reign in in your excitement, your panic. 

“You mustn’t let your mind get the better of you. It will be dark, unfamiliar, but you know where to go. Find the tree.”

You wring your hands together nervously, worry evident in your features. “What if I can’t find it? What if – what if I fail?”

Halsin smiles softly, reaching out to take your hands in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

“You will not fail. Even if you cannot find the tree…the oak father will guide you.”

With a deep breath, you open your eyes once more, taking in your surroundings as quickly, but as efficiently as possible. Halsin was right, this place is utterly unfamiliar to you. A forest he’s lived in for most of his life, yet you have never truly seen before. Yet another advantage in his favor. 

Another breath. 

He believes in you, he trusts you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, with one last steadying breath you turn slowly in place – listening, looking, feeling…until you see it. 

It would have been almost impossible to see just moments ago, dark clouds shrouding the moon’s light. But just as you turn, there is a break in the sky, the celestial light making the silvery underbellies of oak leaves that sprout from branches that tower above the rest, glint at you.

“The heart of the forest. That is your goal,” Halsin’s voice rings in your ears again. 

You smile, heart leaping with triumph as you take off at a sprint once more, all while sending up a silent prayer to Silvanus for guiding your way. 

– – – – – – – – – – 

Despite seeming to know the way you need to go, you continuously doubt yourself. The forest all looks the same, the trees too similar, the sounds never changing, and it feels like you’ve not made any progress towards the heart of the forest. 

The branches whip past you, brushing against your face and arms, surely leaving behind evidence of their assault, but you couldn’t care less. Despite the rush of anxiety and primal flight coursing through you, there’s also...a thrill. A thrill like you’ve never felt before. A thrill that makes you giddy as you continue your race. And it only seems to intensify as you hear the distance sounds of a pursuer in the distance. 

The chase has begun.

Without thought, you move faster. Feet digging into the earth beneath you, arms pumping faster, breathing harder. You will succeed. You will not fail. Not tonight.

And once again, as if the Oak Father himself heard your earlier prayers, the forest around you changes for what feels like the first time. Endless trees give way to a small clearing; an iridescent, bubbling stream running through it, separating you from more forest on the other side. 

You come to a pause at the stream's edge, mind racing with what to do. But each second matters. Each breath matters. 

One. 

Your mind races with information that Halsin has told you about his hunts. 

Two.

A branch cracks in the distance as your eyes scan the water. 

Three.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step into the stream, the water splashing around your ankles. 

Four. 

Tracks…you have to leave tracks. 

Five.

The mud squishes between your toes as you emerge on the other side of the river. One step, another, and another -

Six. 

You hear footsteps now, clear as day as the massive bulk of your partner crashes through the woods. 

Seven. 

Quickly, you dart back into the stream, rushing in the opposite direction of the heart of the forest before moving to crouch behind a large boulder in the water, your dress tugging at you with the movement of the current. 

Eight.

This breath you don’t release, as Halsin burst from the tree line, pausing at the edge of the stream just as you had. 

You watch silently, blood rushing in your ears as you peer around the edge of your hiding place. Halsin is breathing just as hard as you were, and even from here you can see the sheen of sweat adoring his skin, the moonlight reflecting off him. His eyes scan the water before they pause. Quickly, he makes his way through the water, kneeling on the other side where you exited the water. He follows them with his gaze carefully until they disappear back into the water in the opposite direction. From this distance, you can’t be sure, but you think you catch him smiling. 

“Using the water to hide your tracks…” his voice is almost lost to the bubbling stream, but you manage to hear him. “Clever, girl.”

His words send a pang of arousal through you, and you have to cling to the boulder to fight the urge to reveal yourself, but you manage. You stay in place and watch as Halsin stands to his full height once more and takes off jogging upstream, until he’s out of sight within the trees. 

You wait a few moments longer, and then just a moment more before leaving your hiding place and darting out of the water and back into the forest’s sanctuary. You see the towering top of the sacred tree, closer now than you ever hoped, and you know - you know, you’re going to make it. 

And you do. 

Somehow this last push to the end feels quicker than the rest. The forest doesn’t feel endless, time doesn’t feel like it’s dragging on. In fact, the closer you get, it feels as if a warmth flows through you, a calm you haven’t felt since the night started. And as if on cue, you burst from the trees once more into an awe-inspiring sanctuary. 

You understand now, why this place is called the heart of the forest - a huge clearing cut naturally in the middle of this vast place. The air is cooler here, a light breeze rustling the fabric of your simple gown as you come to a stop at the edge of the trees, your breath coming in quick deep breaths as you are finally able to stop running. If just for a moment. 

Your eyes trail over the space, catching instantly on the fireflies dancing through the air, blinking in and out of existence as they fly. With slow reverent steps, you make your way closer to your goal, standing tall and unmoving at the center of the clearing. 

The Sacred Tree. 

It stands silhouetted against the night sky, a looming presence that towers hundreds of feet above you, its base thick and imposing as roots sprawl out in a vast network from its center. 

With as much care and reverence you are able, you pick your way over the roots, trying to memorize every detail of this magnificent place. After a moment you even notice another stream bubbling steadily into a small pool at the base of the tree, sparkling with moonlight and calling to you. 

Soon, you kneel next to the pool, hands dipping into the water, dissipating your reflection on the surface. You lean down, bringing your cupped hands up to your lips as you take small sips. You nearly moan at the cool liquid cascading over your tongue, quenching the intense thirst you didn’t even know you had. It even tastes…sweet, like fresh honeysuckles in spring, or the faint sweetness of honeydew. 

You stay at the edge of the pool for a long few moments, taking slow sips and deep breaths before finally standing back to your feet. As you do, your eyes trail over yourself, astonished to find that the paint adorning you has stayed intact, not even the dirt or branches rubbing it off.  

Your dress is another matter however, the garment showing clear evidence of your traipse through the woods. Tugging at the hem of the piece of cloth, you send a small smile to the tree above you. 

“I suppose it’s a reasonable sacrifice, a dress for…”

For what exactly?

While Halsin had told you the basics of the ritual, and the things that were to come, you can’t help but feel like you still don't understand the cultural importance of this sacred rite. 

And you don’t have time to wonder, for just as you step closer to the tree, the world around you spins uncontrollably as familiar strong arms wrap around you and rough bark meets your back as you are pressed up against the imposing trunk. 

You didn’t even hear him approach, his steps surprisingly silent for a man of his size. But he’s here now - he’s here and wasting no time as his lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, his hands gripping you wherever he can. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he presses you further into the tree behind you, fisting the delicate white fabric of your dress in his need to get impossibly closer to you.

“Halsin-” his name leaves your lips in a gasp, barely able to pull away from him before he’s dominating you once more. 

Your mind cannot even keep pace with what’s happening, Halsin’s presence cutting off any and all logical thought you may have. The only reprieve you get is when his lips leave your own only to leave a trail of messy kiss down your jaw and lower, one of his hands sliding up to cradle your jaw and expose the line of your neck to him as he continues to explore you. 

Blunt teeth nip at the delicate skin of your neck and you can’t stop the whimper that slips past your lips, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders as he continues his assault. You’re so absorbed in him, in the way he presses against you and mouths at your skin that you don’t even notice his hands as they move to take hold of the gauzy neckline of your dress.

You’re only able to utter a gasp of his name as he tears the thin fabric clean down the center. The threads rip easily under his grip, snapping and popping until it hands In tatter remains on your shoulders. You’re barely able to take in another breath, before calloused palms cradle your cheeks, and for the first time since he’s found you are you able to truly see him.

The sight nearly takes you to your knees. 

He towers over you, pupils blown wide with lust as he drinks you in. His shoulders heave with labored breaths, sweat damp skin glistening in the light of the moon. He looks like a god, cut and carved from stone before you. 

Halsin has always been an attentive lover, and at times you would even describe him as tame. Always doting on you, putting your pleasure first and handling you with the delicacy of a newly blossoming rose petal.

Not now. 

The man that stands before you, clutching you in his hands, fingers pressing into the base of your skull, is nothing more than the beast he always tries to contain. yet, even now you can sense a moment of hesitation in him, restraint. A moment you know won’t last - nor do you want it too. 

“I’ve found you, my heart,” he says, voice nothing but a low rumble in his chest. “I’ve found you, and I intend to make you mine. Wholly and completely with no one but Silvanus as witness and I…I cannot promise gentleness. Not tonight.”

He didn’t ask, not out right - but you know he’s asking. As much as he wants this - wants you - you know he would back down if you so much as hesitated. He would take his hands from you and walk away and never hold any ill-intent towards you. 

But you want this. You want this more than you ever could have imagined. Halsin unrestrained and untempered…

You want him to devour you.

You nod resolutely, hands sliding up his arms to rest upon his wrists. 

“You’ve found me,” you tell him, voice but a whisper as you squeeze his wrists, inviting him imperceptibly closer. “So, claim your prize.”

The only response Halsin offers is a growl as he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours in a mess of teeth and tongue and you don’t dare refuse him when he pushes past the seam of your lips to explore you further. 

Halsin makes quick work of the remnants of your dress, tugging the tattered fabric from your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Once free from it, you reach up and cling to his shoulders as he divests himself of his own clothing before his hands come to grip at your thighs lifting you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. 

From this position, you can feel the heat of him against your inner thigh, hard and just as eager as you are. A fact he is more than aware of as he brushes up against you, groaning into your mouth as he feels your wetness against him. 

“I knew you would be ready for me,” Halsin says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves to press faint kisses to the skin there. “I could smell you even back at the stream.”

You pause at his words, surprise coloring your pleasure and Halsin laughs, breath warm against your sweat damp skin. 

“Oh, yes,” he whispers, “I knew you were there. placing fake tracks, hiding…”

He presses you further back into the tree, the bark bringing a pleasant sting of pain to the pleasure building in your belly as he lines himself up. 

“Why…” you trail off, words choked out into a whimper as he finally - finally - presses into you, inch by agonizing inch.

Halsin lets out sinful sounds of his own, grunts and sighs that make you quiver in his hold as he continues to fill you until his hips are flush against you own and you feel so full that you might burst. 

“Because,” he breaths, nipping quickly at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, “It’s about the chase. The hunter and his prey-” he grinds his hips into you, eliciting a moan from you that would have made yo blush in any other circumstance. “It’s the catch that makes it worth it.”

Halsin emphasizes his words with one swift movement, pulling out of you before thrusting forward to the hilt once more, as stars burst behind your eyelids. No more words are said as he sets a devastating pace. Anything you do try to say slipping from your mind like warm honey as he drives into you. 

With Halsin, there’s usually build up. He’s a man who loves to play with you, wring out your pleasure in the most torturously pleasurable way he knows how. Tonight, however, there is none of that. And you thank the gods above that you found the chase itself so exhilarating, because even with how ready you were, how eager you are for him - the size of him is bordering on overwhelming. 

Yet you can’t find it in you to truly care. 

All you can do is clutch helplessly at his shoulders and back, nails digging into taut skin as your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to pull him even deeper inside you. 

It feels as if he just started touching you and you can already feel that familiar tug deep in your belly, arousal burning bright as he continues his furious pace. But you also notice a falter in his rhythm, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you assume his own end approaches. 

“Halsin-” his name falls from your lips in a whimper, hands moving to tangle in his hair as he comes back up to claim your lips once more. 

You expect him to acknowledge your silent plea or agree and tell you he’s close too, but you should know to not expect anything tonight. instead, your surroundings blur around you. Your back leaves the rough bark of the tree in a blink and soon, up becomes down and cool moss meets your knees as warm hands meet your back and before you can even take another breath Halsin has you on your hands and knees before him as he presses into you once more. 

You can’t stop the cry that falls from your lips, this position letting Halsin even deeper into you, allowing him to touch places that make it feel like magma runs through your veins. 

“Oh, gods…”  you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your fingers dig helplessly into the soft ground beneath you. 

“No,” Halsin growls, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair as he moves to lean over you, surrounding you in him. “There are no gods here, not now.”

His words and the combination of his cock buried so deep inside you at this new angle catapults you over the edge. You come with a cry of Halsin’s name on your tongue. 

Your lover helps you through your high, his thrusts growing more erratic until he too finishes with animalistic grunts as he spills himself inside of you. 

You still struggle for air beneath him, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm, that it takes you a moment too long to realize that warm hands are tugging at your hips. A small whine slips past your lips when Halsin pulls himself from you, and it’s then as he rolls you onto your back and leans down to capture your lips in a much more tender kiss than before, that you realize he’s still hard. His release doing nothing to satiate the need coursing through him. 

“I love you, my heart,” Halsin says as he pulls away from you to nose at your temple. “You have given me a gift, this night - a gift I do not think I will ever have words enough to repay you.”

Then, for the first time tonight do you truly seem him. He’s pull away from you slightly, just enough so he is able to look upon your face, and you can seem him clearly. His eyes glisten with emotion, vulnerability and utter devotion swimming in pools of hazel. You take this instant to take your lover in, commit this reverent moment to memory as your eyes flit over his face and lower. From the scars cutting through his brow to his tousled hair. To the paint that adorns him - the paint that now lies muddled against his bronze skin, red mixing with your gold. A visual representation to anyone who sees that you two are bound to one another. 

Your hands slide up his arms, fingers dancing across his shoulder before finally coming to cradle his face - your heart fluttering when he leans into your touch. 

“Then show me,” you whisper, puling him into another searing kiss.

His lips are hot against your own, yet despite the sureness of his movements there’s just a hint of tenderness there. A familiar warmth that encompasses you as he touches you once more. 

His hands are firm against your skin, squeezing and gripping and pulling you tighter to him, but gone is the pure urgency that was just moments ago.  Halsin is all consuming - he always is - but now it’s as if he is taking up every part of your existence. 

Solid arms wrap around you, holding you to him as he slots himself in the cradle of your hips. The familiar scent of him seems to envelop you whole as he presses himself further against you - sandalwood, sage and  moist earth after a spring rain. He breaks away from your lips only to nose at your temple, and you take this moment to breath him in, your hands sliding up his back in an effort to pull him closer. 

Halsin sighs against you, warm breath ghosting over your ear as he shifts his hips, pressing into you once more. He moves to kiss you once again as you take him, swallowing the moans that bubble from your chest until his hips meet yours.

He stops, then, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your own, as he allows you both pauses to bask in one another completely. You, for one, are grateful for the small reprieve, the moment becoming completely overwhelming in a new way. 

You and Halsin have lain together more times than you’re able to count, each time never ceasing to take you to new heights, but this…this feels as if you’re seeing him for the first time - being with him for the first time. 

He holds you to him in a reverence you never thought possible from a man, cradling you with a delicacy that makes your chest tight with emotion. He presses featherlight kisses to your brow and then your lips once more before he finally moves. 

And it’s as if the heavens open up above you. 

Ecstasy burns through your veins with each push and pull of his hips, as if you can feel every vein and ridge of him inside you. He sets a steady pace, but nothing like the hurried fucking he gave you earlier. No…this was slower, more measured, as if he never wants this night to end. 

“I love you.”

The words are a mere whisper against your cheek as Halsin moves, his hips pressing deep into you forcing you into the soft moss beneath you as he tries to mold himself further into you. 

“I love you, my heart,” he says again, voice strained. “I have never felt…” he trails off voice going soft before he picks up again. “I am bound to you, body and soul. And by the Oak Fathers grace I will never be parted from you. Not if…If you’ll have me.”

His words make your heart flutter, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn your head to look at him, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair once more. 

“I would have no one else,” you tell him solemnly, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”

At your acceptance, your reciprocation of his vow, Halsin shudders in pleasure above you. With one arm still wrapped snugly around you, his other hand trails down, over your hip coming to rest at the back of your knee only to tug it quickly over his hip, changing the angle and allowing him to slide deeper inside you. 

The cry that falls from your lips in nothing short of erotic, his name falling from your lips in a jumbled prayer as his pace speeds up, bring you both closer to the climax you feel burning in your belly. 

Gone are the sounds of nature that greeted you when you first entered this sacred place. Now the only sounds that meet your ears are your lovers groans of pleasure in your ear and the blood raring in your veins. His skin slides against your own, damp with sweat and swirled in gold and red as the paint so delicately applied to you both now mixes together. 

Halsin’s thrusts become erratic, and a wave of golden light washes over him as he ruts against you. He pulls your hips closer to him, and you wrap your legs around him obediently as the hand that was supporting you comes up to cup your jaw, titling your head up and away, presenting the delicate expanse of your throat to him.

You catch the familiar flash of druidic magic in his eyes through your lashes, and you know he’s fighting the beast, holding it back as he lowers his head down, lips brushing the underside of your jaw as he thrusts into you again, harsher this time. 

“You are mine,” he growls, voice octaves lower than his usual deep timbre. 

“Yours,” You relent, voice a whispered plea into the night air. 

The only warning you receive is another harsh thrust of his hips, this one making him reach so deep inside of you that you see stars as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, breaking skin and sending you to another plane of euphoria you’ve never experienced before. Moans and cry of pleasure spill from your lips as you come, nearly sobbing as Halsin follows you over the precipice once again, pressing himself into you fully as he fills you. 

With ears ringing and heart racing, you almost don’t hear the soft call of your name, Halsin’s lips placing delicate kisses to your cheeks and lips, drawing you closer to coherency as gently as he can. 

He has not separated from you - the forest floor still at your back as he presses his weight comfortingly against your front, brushing errant strands of hair from your face.

“I love you,” you finally say, voice raw. 

When you speak, Halsin lifts himself from you slightly, bringing one hadn’t up to stroke at your hair affectionately, eyes brimming with emotions you can’t yet place. 

“And I you,” he says, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. 

After a few quiet moments, Halsin takes you into his arms once more and rolls so he is on his back with you resting against his chest, never separating himself from you in the process. 

His heart beats strong beneath your ear, his chest rising and falling in long even breaths, and if it weren’t for his fingers tracing patterns up and down your spine, you’d think he’d fallen asleep. 

Neither of you speak for a long while, using the silence to bask in one another’s presence, your mind still reeling from your experience. the silence is only broken when you hear the faint call of song birds and you see the barely there streaks of grey tinting the horizon beyond the trees. 

You sit up turning your head and wincing at the tinge of pain that accompanies the movement. a hand comes up to touch the spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and your suddenly reminded of the mark Halsin left behind. 

His hand comes up to cover your own, calloused fingertips tracing over the bite gently, and you look down to see concern tugging as his brow. 

“I’m sorry, my heart, I lost myself-”

“Will it scar?” You cut him off, turning your hand to lace your fingers with his own. 

Halsin pauses at your question, lips tugging downward. “I can make sure it will not-”

You shake your head, leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, pulling back to stare into familiar hazel eyes. 

“Don’t.” you say. “Leave it. I…like the idea of it. But I…” you trail off, your courage waning. 

Halsin’s other hand comes up to card through your hair, urging you to face him again.

“Speak freely here,” he encourages. 

You nod, sliding one hand up to run your fingers over the spot on his neck that mirrors your own.

“I’d like you to bear a similar mark.”

Halsin smiles, pulling you down to him so your lips are a mere hairsbreadth away.

“You are mine just as much as I am yours, my heart.”

You smile.

You could get used to that. 

[bradshawsweetheart]

Baby Come Close | college!Bradley Bradshaw x virgin!Reader |

turn the lights down low, baby come close

put your trust in me, let this love be

SUMMARY: On the last night of spring break of junior year at UVA, you decided that this was the perfect time to lose your virginity to none other than Bradley Bradshaw. WORD COUNT: ~4.9k WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. this is just pure smut. barely a plot. p in v. corruption kink if you squint. praise kink if you squint more. fluff. swears. no use of y/n. A/N: this is my first time writing publicly, especially smut, in a very long time, and my first fic for TGM! I’m so nervous to post this, please be gentle :')

It was the last day of spring break, and the college town of Charlottesville, Virginia was a bit quieter than usual, due to most of its population being who knows where doing who knows what with their time off. Your parents were out of town in Boston, but you much rather would have spent time with Bradley at his apartment than go back to your empty childhood home anyway, exchanging pleasantries with former high school classmates who you would undoubtedly run into in public. You and Bradley, instead, decided that spring break would be much better spent in the privacy of his empty dwelling, partaking in day trips to Virginia Beach in his Bronco and a staycation of movie-watching-turned-heated-groping sessions… And maybe even more if you decided to finally take it there. What better time than tonight, before the first day of the final stretch of junior year at the University of Virginia?

“What did he say?” Bradley whispered, snapping you out of your thoughts. Usually, the two of you would try to watch the movie until around the thirty-minute mark, and then one wandering hand or a lingering kiss later and it would be completely ignored. For you, however, tonight’s movie was long forgotten the moment he had turned it on.

“Hm? Oh, I didn’t hear him. Sorry…” You smiled at him sheepishly.

“You good, angel?” He cocked his eyebrow as he turned to face you. The warm amber of his irises bore into your face with adoration and slight concern. “You’re not thinking about breaking up with me, are you?” He feigned worry, clutching over his heart. You swatted his arm playfully with an eye roll.

“I’m just a little thirsty… Do you want anything from the kitchen?” You offered, feeling a little silly as he simultaneously took a swig from his bottle of beer. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Yeah, get me a glass of you.” He grinned, leaning down to catch your lips in his, stifling your giggle as you cringed with an exaggerated scoff at his cheesy remark. Bradley Bradshaw, dad joke supreme.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll decide to break up with you when I get back, Dadshaw.” You teased, pushing his curls from his forehead, earning you a perfect pout from his plump lips to which you gave a lingering kiss. There it was.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were growing restless with the over-the-clothes grope sessions that regularly took place the last few months. While they were exciting and enjoyable, there was a particular itch that you just couldn’t scratch, even on your own. Your thoughts would drift to him at night as you imagined what being with him would be like, and any time your unskilled fingers fumbled to bring an unfamiliar feeling to that place deep inside you, you would immediately withdraw your hand. The longer things continued on like this, the antsier you were getting and if Bradley was feeling the same way, you would have been none the wiser. He was aware of your predicament and he, ever the gentleman, always let you set the pace and never asked anything of you that you were not comfortable with. His mother raised him better than being any other way. “I promise I’m not some bible-thumping prude.” You would promise him from time to time during these exchanges. He never asked you for your reasoning, but he knew it was just a matter of trust. He would just simply smile and assure you there was no rush, that he would never pressure you to go further than you wanted.

In truth, however, the idea of being your first anything excited him. He felt a little guilty for having that thought in the first place but he couldn’t help it. Any time he tried to get any information from you about what you had done before, just out of sheer curiosity, you would quickly skirt around the subject and bring up anything else. He would never press you on the matter, but he could tell when you were hesitant and very intentional with your movements during impromptu make out sessions behind the bookshelves in the library during study breaks. But he also noticed when something changed inside of you: the time he pulled you into the office of the professor he was TA-ing for when they were out for a few days. When he decided to be spontaneous and clear the professor’s desk of clutter to push you onto the surface, you didn’t exasperatedly scold him or get flushed and embarrassed like you normally would. You simply continued on, pulling him into you, your kisses and touches… hungrier, but he continued to let you set the pace, and while it didn’t go much further, he could feel the desperation growing there with you. That was a week ago, right before midterms, and neither of you had talked about it since.

He tilted his head at you as you winked and sauntered away, making your way out of his room and down the hall toward the kitchen. After nervously gulping down half of the water in your glass in an attempt to slow your heart rate, you stepped into the bathroom off the side of the galley. You gripped either side of the sink as you bent over the counter to face yourself in the mirror, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. “You can do this. It’s not a big deal. Everyone has done it… Just not you,” you furrowed your brow at your failed pep talk. You had been in your head about this for a couple months, and especially all week as he made a habit of sweetly coaxing you into staying over every night of spring break with him to cuddle every time you would start gathering your belongings to leave. You worried that you wouldn’t be nearly as good as the other women Bradley had already been with, and you often wondered why he was even waiting around with you in the first place, especially when other girls on campus would throw themselves at him had they been given the chance. You had even brought this up to him a couple times before, how he was wasting formative college experience time with you, which was always met with, “Baby, I don’t want anyone else,” or, “Sex isn’t the only important thing in the world.” Sure, not the only thing, but surely still pretty important to someone like Bradley Bradshaw.

“No, you’re not backing out of it. Get it over with. Everything will only get easier from here on out.” You told your reflection definitively. You reached up under your skirt, hooking your panties with your thumbs before tugging them down your legs. You had hoped this bold of a move would spur you on to go through with this, either by your own actions or even by Bradley discovering you bare, as you knew he would often absentmindedly run his thumb against the underwear lines at your hip when he cuddled you. After giving yourself one last look-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom.

Bradley snapped his head up when you reentered his bedroom, giving you a cheeky grin. “Are you back to break up with me, angel?” He has no idea what he’s in for tonight, you thought, but then quickly humbled yourself by the fact that, well, neither did you.You sauntered over to turn off the television with the remote before tossing it away to his textbook-ridden desk. The sudden silence and the way he was looking at you was making you lose your nerve, so you walked over to his stereo to pop one of his CDs in the player, Smokey Robinson’s Smokey, pressing the repeat button and then skipping until the player display read the number 9. Baby Come Close started softly through the speakers, and you remembered the first time he had you listen to it with him.

“This right here… is lovemaking music,” he proclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at you, only half-joking. Your eyes widened as you playfully swatted his arm, causing him to bellow with laughter. “But make no mistake, it sounds so much better on vinyl.”

“Then why aren’t we listening to it on vinyl?” You teased, prodding his chest with your finger.

“The thought of keeping my collection here with me at school when I live with these idiots makes me shudder, honey. Get real.”

Bradley’s expression was puzzled as you crawled across the bed to straddle his lap, cupping his face and running your thumbs over his smooth skin. He beamed at you nonetheless. “What are you –” You cut him off by gently tilting his chin upward and placing a slow, sensual kiss on his lips. Your lips moved perfectly in sync as he sat up a little straighter, placing his hands on your hips. You shakily reached for one of his hands before setting your discarded lace panties in his palm. He pulled away to look at the delicate fabric and blinked a few times before slowly sliding his other hand under your skirt to grip your bare behind. He softly drew a circle on the skin there with his thumb. His touch felt like static and left goosebumps in its wake, making you shiver. It suddenly clicked in Bradley’s mind as he remembered what he told you about this song, it made his chest constrict. You nervously bit your lip as you watched him short circuit in real time. Bradley took pause as he met your eyes, full of both lust and uncertainty. “Are you saying…”

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like, how you feel, for a while,” you admitted softly, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Bradley swallowed hard, his heartbeat in his ears as he hung on every word you said. Your gaze shifted to focus on your hands as you nervously stated, “I don’t want to wait any longer, Bradley. I think I’m ready.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he hesitantly caught your lips again. He grinned into the kiss and pushed your shirt up slightly to rub his calloused thumbs along the soft skin of your waist. You sighed into his mouth as your lips parted, which Bradley took advantage of by sliding his tongue to massage against yours in your mouth.

“We’ll take it slow. I’ll take care of you,” He promised after a long moment with a heavy breath, slowly inching a hand further up your tee to palm your breast and pinching your nipple through your bra, enough for your breath to catch in your throat. “Is this okay?” His eyes snapped to yours expectantly, and he smiled softly when you nodded. Bradley pulled your shirt upward over your head and tossed the material to the floor. He took a moment to marvel at the lacey red bra that matched the underwear in his hand before attaching his lips to your neck and flinging your panties aside. You sighed, bringing your arms up loosely around the back of his neck to run your fingers through the curls at his nape. He raised a hand to cradle your jaw, his thumb gently nudging it to angle your chin to give him more access, and his other expertly sliding up your back to unhook your bra with ease. You sighed in relief as the restrictive material fell down your arms and tried to fight the bashful feeling that washed over you. You felt your face flush as you realized Bradley was the first person to see you this way, all hot and flushed on top of him. He blinked as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “Absolutely perfect, angel.”

You experimentally ground your hips down onto his and the friction of his denim jeans against your bare core made you whimper. You could feel his hard cock through the stiff material separating you, and you desperately wanted more. Your shaky hands fumbled with the button of his pants as you kissed down his jaw and along his neck, placing hot, lingering kisses on the somewhat-fresh scars that stretched across his skin. He chuckled softly, placing his hands over yours to steady them as he guided the button out of the loop.

“Relax, baby. We can take it nice and slow,” Bradley reassured you before lifting you from him to shimmy out of his jeans. But before you could touch him again, he wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you over, gently placing you underneath him. He rubbed your sides as he shifted his weight on top of you, pushing you into the plush of his mattress. He supported himself on his forearm as mouth latched onto your right nipple, his free hand massaging your other breast. You moaned softly, you felt him smile against your soft skin. Bradley’s tongue swirled around the bud, and he released it with a pop before moving to the left one. When you arched your back, instinctively pushing up against his mouth, he groaned, His hand wandered to your thighs, rubbing them each for a while before slipping between them when you opened them slightly. He nudged your thigh to open wider with his knee. “Am I going too fast?” He asked, stopping his mouth on your skin to look up at you. You shook your head with a nervous smile and he placed a kiss on your sternum. “Tell me what you like.”

“I — I don’t know.” He furrowed his eyebrows at this confession.

“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself,” He requested, and stopped his movements when you opened your mouth to speak… and then closed it. “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“I have! Well, kind of. I either got bored, or whenever I felt anything building I just… stopped.”

“So… You’ve never came before, even on your own?” He prodded delicately, and you sheepishly shook your head. Bradley suppressed the moan at the back of his throat. He wet his lips with his tongue. “Oh, honey. I can’t believe you’re this innocent,” he said more to himself than to you, which made you feel a bit self-conscious. He noticed you tense. “No, baby, no, that isn’t what I mean. You’ve just been so… I never would have guessed.”

“I would understand if you didn’t want to keep going.” You offered, shifting uncomfortably. Bradley’s expression turned incredulous as he rapidly shook his head.

“No way is that deterring me from you. How about we find out what feels good together, okay?” You nodded and let out a shaky breath as his middle finger slowly slid through your slick and ghosted over your clit. An unexpected sound squeaked from your chest and you flushed when he met your eyes. “Soaked already. Is this all for me?” He shot you a lopsided grin, and smirked when you whimpered and nodded. You bucked your hips against his hand, a silent plea for any type of friction, and he obliged by rubbing your bundle of nerves in slow circles. This felt so much beyond anything you could have possibly done on your own, the unanticipated movements of his touches. You felt like your body was on fire.

“Bradley,” you pleaded, your legs starting to scramble. He held your hips down with one hand and slid his middle finger into you with the other, wordlessly obliging, slowly pumping it a few times before curling it upward and hitting a spot that had you arching your back and letting out a sharp gasp. “Oh!”

“How’s that?” He asked smugly, chuckling slightly as you could do nothing but dumbly nod and blink up at him, not exactly answering his question but it was definitely an answer all the same. He watches you with an amused grin as he repeated the motion with his skilled digit, eliciting a strangled moan from somewhere deep in your sternum.

The rumors you always heard about him before you got together were true, he certainly had magic fingers. The sounds he was pulling for you made him thank the high heavens that he had ears, and that his roommates had left town for the week. He kissed down your stomach and your breath hitched as he continued down, down, down. Bradley raised his eyes to meet yours, immediately softening at your slightly panicked expression. “May I?”

“I… Yes.”

“If you don’t like it, we can move on,” He beamed his reassurance at you earnestly. “But I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make you feel so good, baby.” He teasingly kissed along the outside of your thighs, chuckling when you squirmed, desperate for any kind of contact. Suddenly, feeling his hot breath against your core, he placed a slow, delicate kiss against you before spreading you with his fingers, then licking a thick stripe upward.

“Oh, my fucking –” Bradley attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking. You could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter. His tongue dipped down to your weeping hole, teasingly plunging into you every so often. You didn’t know what to do with your hands as they scrambled to find purchase in the sheets. He guided one of your hands to his hair, your other following suit, and when your fingers tangled into his tresses, he groaned at the tug.

“You taste so good, honey,” Bradley breathed, and his voice was so raspy and full of lust it caused you to buck your hips slightly against his mouth. The comment made your cheeks heat up, almost embarrassed. He hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the immense pleasure he was already giving you. He pulled his mouth away and brought up two digits two your wetness, slowly teasing your entrance, making you whimper pathetically. “I love the little sounds that you make when I’m teasing you.” It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. He pushed his fingers into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to the slightly uncomfortable stretch, before curling upward against your walls and moving them into you at a steady pace. You felt that unfamiliar feeling start to rise in your stomach and your legs began to shake.

“Bradley – I can’t – I think I’m gonna –”

“Come for me, baby,” He growled against you, harshly sucking your clit as his fingers sped up a bit. You cried out in complete ecstasy as you came undone under him, tugging his face impossibly closer into your core. He rutted his hips into the mattress as he watched you, desperate for friction, and continued to work you through it. You would have felt embarrassed about the way you convulsed if you hadn’t heard through the cotton filling your head, “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot.” As you came down from your high, you hissed from the overstimulation as he kept at you. You pushed his head back involuntarily and he chuckled before kissing the inside of your thigh apologetically. You tried to take a moment to catch your breath as he continued to kiss your thighs and around your heat. “Was that alright?”

You heaved a laugh at the question, you felt him grinning against your belly. “Something like that,” you quipped, meeting his eyes. He looked so in love, just watching your already fucked out expression as you tried to find your way back down to Earth. You ran your fingers through his hair, he pressed his cheek into your thigh. “I want that all the time.”

“I am so, so happy to oblige.” He suggested, experimentally going back down to kitten lick at your soaked cunt. You giggled, shaking your head.

“I wanna touch you too,” you stated breathlessly. Bradley cocked an eyebrow at you as you sat up and pushed him to lay backward to sit between his knees, reattaching your lips to his collarbone and eagerly kissing down his chest and abdomen. He chuckled, bringing a hand up to gently hold your hair out of your face. His finger lovingly swept a circle over your cheek. You boldly and playfully licked a thick stripe up his torso, causing a strained groan to bubble from his throat, before returning nip down to the waistband of his boxers. Your sudden confidence had quickly dissipated as you looked up at him with wide eyes. This was the first time you’d seen him this way, in this position. Bradley was so beautiful. He had been hitting the gym pretty hard in preparation for his hopeful, second-round acceptance into flight school come graduation next year and it was definitely paying off, though you admit you still liked it when he was a bit softer in the middle. He gave you an encouraging grin as you began to pull the material downward, his cock sprung free and slapped up against his abdomen. You blinked, dumbfounded, as you took in the sight of him. “I…”

“You don’t have to do anything.” He stated firmly with a soft smile, bringing a hand to brush the hair from your face once more. You furrowed your brows and shook your head.

“Teach me?” You gazed at him expectantly. “Show me how to touch you. Teach me how to make you feel good, too.” Fuck. He nodded, swallowing hard. He took your hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss before guiding it down to secure gently around his length. He tightened his hand over yours slightly, signaling you to tighten your grip a little. Taking his cock in your hand, you hesitantly pumped it a few times before surprising the both of you by boldly licking the precum from his tip. It was surprisingly pleasant but maybe it was because a soft, strangled moan bubbled from Bradley’s lips, which was enough to make you squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to do everything you could to hear that sound again. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, humming in approval as you hesitantly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged but recovered smoothly as he guided you to bob your head. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on his length and pumped what you couldn’t fit with your hand, just like you saw in the videos you sometimes watched in preparation for this moment.

“Are you sure this is your first time?” Bradley chuckled and sighed as his head fell back against the headboard. You couldn’t keep the cocky grin off your face as you repeated your motions. You figured he was exaggerating your skill for your benefit, but you didn’t care. The sounds leaving him were deliciously filthy, reassuring you that you were doing all the right things. “That’s it baby, just like that. So fucking good for me,” His hand gripped a fistful of your hair as he thrusted his hips toward your face slightly. You gagged but recovered immediately, though you could feel your embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “Shit, sorry, is that okay?” You hummed in response, the vibrations adding to Bradley’s pleasure so much so that he huffed out a string of curses. You could feel your wetness begin to drip down the side of your thigh, and you were getting a little antsy.

“Bradley…” You whined as you pulled back for air. Your body stiffened as nerves consumed you once more. “I want… I need…”

“What do you need, honey?” He questioned gently, pulling you up to him to catch your lips. He expertly flipped you back onto your back, slotting his body between your legs. You could feel him over your heat, causing you to experimentally buck your hips upward to grind against him. “Tell me what you need.” Bradley hissed as you whimpered. He fumbled to pull a condom from the box of his bedside drawer, planting wet kisses on your outstretched arm on his way back to you.

“Please fuck me,” you requested boldly. The filthy words from your lips made him throw his head back with a groan. “Bradley, please.” He tore the foil packet open with his teeth and pumped himself a few times before rolling the condom down onto his length. He kissed up your neck back to your lips as he positioned himself at your entrance, running the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” He kissed you sweetly. You smiled at him with a hesitant nod. You figured you would feel a lot more embarrassed than you did, feeling pathetically naive and innocent to be experiencing this for the first time at your age, but he never put the thought that he felt that way in your mind. Bradley was never condescending, he never talked down to you or made you feel like something too pure or too delicate to touch. He slowly pushed his tip into you, causing your eyes to water and screw shut. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders and your body went rigid.

“Angel, I need you to relax your muscles. I don’t want it to hurt,” He bit back a moan as he continued to fill you once you relaxed. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” You stated firmly. It didn’t hurt as bad as you were told it would, it was more uncomfortable than anything. He waited for you to adjust to him, idly planting wet kisses over the length of your neck and collarbone as he whispered sweet praises in your ear.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Bradley cooed. “You’re taking me so well,” After several minutes, you shifted your hips slightly in attempts to ease the discomfort, and… Oh. You moaned slightly at the new electricity inducing feeling that coursed through your body. Bradley picked up his head to reattach his lips to yours and pulled his hips back slightly before slowly thrusting back into you. You gasped, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. His dilated pupils fixated on your own as he found his rhythm, pushing deeper into you while increasing his pace. His sweet moans were music to your ears, and yours to his. You were a whimpering mess underneath him, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as he ran a hand down your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist. “You’re so tight.” A deep-seated groan emitted from the back of his throat as his thrusts became sloppy, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. He took one of your hands in his, interlocking your fingers and bringing them to rest on the mattress above your head.

“You feel so…” You moaned before your lips latched onto his neck. “Fuck.”

“I love listening to you,” He admitted blissfully. “I never could have imagined the sweet noises you make.” You whimpered at his words. He hastily snaked a hand down between the two of you and started rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. The added sensation with him thrusting into your dripping core at a dizzying pace, repeatedly hitting just the right spot, was almost too much but so perfect. His praises kept stoking that building fire in the pit of your belly, and watching him watch you sent you over the edge once more. Your vision went white as a string of curses fell from your mouth. Your legs began to shake and the rest of your body stiffened.

“Bradley, oh my – fuck!”

“That’s it, good girl,” He groaned at the sight of you writhing underneath him. He sucked a mark into your collarbone to contain the melodies escaping him. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” Bradley rasped as he buried his face further into your neck. You brought up your other leg to tighten them both around him, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts as he came undone on top of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You had never seen such a beautiful sight, watching the muscles of his bicep contract as he held himself over you while he fell apart. He lazily peppered your neck with hot kisses, sucking marks into your skin, and after a few moments, he begrudgingly lifted himself off you with a huge grin plastered on his face. He would have stayed there forever if you let him. “How are you? Was that okay?” You giggled at his concern, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It was perfect,” you hummed in contentment. Definitely worth the wait, and now I know what I’ve been missing. Bradley’s phone began to ring, and when he lifted it to check the caller I.D., his smile faltered for a split second.

Mav

He hastily declined the call. Maverick was continuing to not get the hint of months’ worth of rejected calls and Bradley refused to let him ruin another perfect moment in his life right now.

“Who’s calling so late?” You joked. Fucking Maverick on his fucking Pacific Standard Time.

“Telemarketer, probably,” Bradley lied, cupping your face and kissing your lips sweetly. “What do you say we just skip the first day back tomorrow and stay in bed all day instead?” His grin was anything but angelic, borderline shit-eating, as he began to kiss his way down your neck to your chest. You erupted into giggles, pretending to push him away.

“Bradley!”

Baby Come Close was still thrumming through the speakers on repeat as you held each other, and neither of you were in any rush to end the perfect night. You both desperately wished that you could have stayed here forever.

[eldritch-nightmare]

Dom / switch / sub headcanons for all the creeps? (like who’s a Dom, who’s a sub, yada yada)

a/n: i'm honestly not sure if i explained any of these properly because they sorta just make sense in my mind but here u guys go i hope u can see my vision. second time writing nsfw content teehee hope i did a good job <3

dom/sub/switch headcanons.

includes: slenderman, jeff the killer, eyeless jack, laughing jack, jane the killer, nina the killer, the bloody painter, candy pop, the doll maker, jason the toymaker, dr smiley, nurse ann, the puppeteer, clockwork, zalgo, hobo heart, ticci toby, zero, kagekao, nathan the nobody, homicidal liu + sully, and laughing jill.

warnings: minors dni, nsfw discussion, inconsistent word length, mentions of the following: praise, degradation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, overstimulation, dumbification, fingering, very brief mention of a corruption kink in sully's part.

SLENDERMAN is none. it isn't interested in sex whatsoever. the thought never even crosses its mind, and it will turn down any and all advances. it has no desire to partake in sexual acts with anyone.

JEFF THE KILLER is a dom but that's not a surprise. he prefers being the one in control, and will more than likely never be willing to sub during sex. it also feeds his ego a bit, seeing you squirming underneath him, begging him to fuck you until his name is the only thing on your mind. he likes having this type of power over you.

EYELESS JACK is a switch. he doesn't really have a preference. if you want him to dom you, he'll make it to where you can't walk in the morning. if you want him to sub, he'll be a whining, moaning mess underneath you as he comes undone.

LAUGHING JACK is a switch. he has fun doing both! he's always willing to mix it up. whatever you want, he's willing to be. i actually kinda imagine sex with him will be a little difficult?? y'know, pointed nose, long nails that he can't clip. i'm not entirely sure how certain aspects of sex will work with him but... i imagine you guys figure something out.

JANE THE KILLER is a sub. you would think that she would be a dom but hell no she needs to be treated like a princess during sex. definitely a bratty sub for sure. she's the type to say make me when you tell her to behave.

NINA THE KILLER is a switch. she's definitely a softer dom, always so gentle and praising you so sweetly as she cares for your needs. and when she's the sub? then she is the sub. she becomes a whining, needy mess as she begs you to use her, wanting to be good just for you.

THE BLOODY PAINTER is a switch. honestly, i think he's a virgin so in the beginning of your sexual relationship with him, you would definitely have to take the lead more often than not. he comes to learn that he doesn't really care if he's a dom or sub.

CANDY POP is a dom. through and through. he's a hard dom, at that. he'll deny you orgasms and he'll have you fucked stupid before he finally lets you cum. he degrades you as well. look at you, taking his length so well. it's almost like you were made to be fucked like a slut.

THE DOLL MAKER is sex repulsed. for a variety of reasons, vine is repulsed by the mere thought of sex and will vehemently avoid and turn down any advances made toward him.

JASON THE TOYMAKER is a dom. this also probably isn't a shock, given his nature. he definitely leans more towards being a soft dom, but if you want him to degrade you and use you as a toy then all you have to do is ask. he's eager to please you.

DR SMILEY is a dom. i haven't written much about him but he definitely doesn't seem like a sub or switch. i think he enjoys being in control, and he definitely likes having you at his mercy.

NURSE ANN is a dom. you couldn't get her to sub for you even if you tried, i'm sorry. ann is like a fucking animal when it comes to sex man her stamina and endurance are crazy. she'll have you forgetting your own name.

THE PUPPETEER is a non-partaking dom. he doesn't feel sexual attraction but he's not against helping you get off if you beg him to. he directs you on how to please yourself all while praising you for being a good listener. and maybe he'll end up degrading you a bit too, who knows.

CLOCKWORK is a switch that doms more often than not. she rarely ever subs, finding that she derives more pleasure when she's dominating you and making you scream her name. when she does sub, she's a lot more needy than you'd expect. she's a brat too.

ZALGO is a dom. he's also a hard dom, though i don't think that's shocking to anyone. he's the type to praise you while he degrades you. he'll leave marks on your skin as well, and he'll fuck you until you're in tears because you just look so adorable when you cry. he's an aftercare king tho don't worry.

HOBO HEART is a sub. trust me guys he's a desperate and needy sub. he's so so so sensitive and he'll be coming undone even if you don't touch him. he'll be a crying and drooling mess by the time you're done with him, and the praise you give him for being so good just makes him feel so, well, good.

TOBY is a switch. he just wants to please you in any way he can. if that means pinning you down and filling you up until you're both exhausted or letting you use him to satisfy your needs, then so be it. he doesn't really care as long as he gets to please you.

ZERO is a dom. she absolutely lives for the control she has over you in the bedroom. she'll probably manhandle you, to be honest, she loves how easy you fold to her touch alone. she's also the type to praise you while degrading you. and if you're into it, she'll probably choke you.

KAGEKAO is a switch that doms more often than not. sex is really just another way for him to tease and play with you. he likes having you beg for release, and he loves overstimulating you. but sometimes the tables may turn. it'll be rare, but you very well can get kagekao on his knees begging to worship you.

NATHAN THE NOBODY is sex repulsed. it's just not something he's interested in, and the thought alone tends to make him feel nauseous, to be honest. if you want, you can go and fulfill your sexual desires through someone else.

HOMICIDAL LIU is a switch that subs more often than not. and trust me when i say that he will worship you. his only goal is to fulfill your every need in any way that he can. most of the time, it's him begging you to let him fuck you while you tease him. however, sometimes, when he's the dom, he will fuck you so hard that you end up a dazed, babbling mess only able to get out a jumbled mess of please and don't stop. AND HE'S SO SWEET ABOUT IT TOO god he praises you the entire time, acting as if he literally isn't rearranging your insides right now.

SULLY is a switch. sully just goes with the flow, to be honest. he doesn't lean towards being a dom or a sub, he just is. one moment you could be fucking him until the only thing he can think about is you, and then the next he could be fingering you while marking your body up and making you beg for him to fuck you senseless. and honestly, he probably has a corruption kink tbh.

LAUGHING JILL is a sub. she is so desperate and needy, eager to please you and do whatever you want her to do. she'll cry, she'll beg, she'll be a brat, she'll do anything and everything to get you to touch her. she loves it when you praise her. she just wants to be a good girl for you <3

[hoppingonjim]

Venturing- Holland March

summary: with a suddenly boring sex life, holland decides to spice it up with anal!

cw: i forgot about the cast first of all. other than that there's anal, lube, afab!reader, cum kink (?) , mocking/degrading it's very soft, teasing, spanking, praising and implied that holland eats the reader out after. (not the ass!!!)

all of it had begun with a quick tap to your ass. the newspaper consumed you that morning and the detective could feel jealousy writhe within him. a heart pierced and a cock needy. o forgetting the suppleness of your curves and flesh. all of it had begun when he slammed himself with the realization he couldn’t withdraw from the sweet saccharine of your pleasure.

boredom had seeped through the gates of your relationship. the moat once shielding you two from sighs and wandering eyes suddenly blunt. level to the ground. making love to you, although ravishing, had become routine. holland was never a man for routines and he expected you to be educated on that matter.

experimental. the word thrilled him as his eyes ventured towards the curvature of your clothed ass. hips protected by cheaply sewn denim with embroidered silver pockets. the swirls stamped his mind and served his cock with ideas. the routine of slamming himself into you, reeling in your mewls and screams, all of it remained exciting. your tightness never faltered for his cock. the warmth and compactness of your pussy satisfying as ever to the detective. change was needed to keep staleness only something out of an imagination.

magazines fell into his possession. hot pink words plastered on creamy paper, educating him on expeditions to embark on in the seclusion of his bedroom. your bedroom. ideas sprung into his mind, a hand falling to relieve the sudden spring in his crotch. was this it? had he finally found the cure to boredom?

the bedroom that night became a jungle. the adventure he’d partake in new territory for you and him. again, he’d be stealing your virginity for his own possession. the way he liked it.

all these ideas came into conversation when you were lulled by humming in his arms. the melancholic tattoo adorning his hand becoming a tracer for the daintiness of your fingertip. the voice speaking was one that climbed towards persuasive, falling into its clutz shape. with a politician's lip he articulated his desires. the blandness of your intimacy was dulling him. there needed to be a liveliness again, he recommended. for him the apex of the discussion drew when you could nod your head, eyes directing him to the nightstand. carefully placing you aside, he'd reach for the silver curved handle, pulling it out softly. the contents inside were enough to satisfy him, a hand proudly obtaining the lube. the pop of the cap rang throughout the room and a cheeky grin was thrown your way. you could've swooned.

crawling towards him from your once fetal position, your fingers curled over the hem of his sweatpants. only a tug would suffice to bring the thick cloth to the root of his leg. which, he'd kick away to the floor below. it the span of seconds you were able to note how the topic of anal aroused him already- you two had barely even begun. the only starting point was him holding the lube mischievously in his fingers.

the world seemed to halt when he witnessed you slide down your thick white gown. the milky fabric slinking off to collet in the swamp of clothing beneath. the breath he needed was lodged in his throat, his hardness speaking speeches for him. upon seeing him desperate your tongue would swipe over your bottom lip. wetting the once dry surface, eyes stayed pasted to him.

the squirting of the bottle lingered in the room. the nodding of his head escorting you to arrange on all fours. there was no thong blocking his view nor a bra to hold your breasts, it was a sight he knew would play in his mind for ages. you, so obedient, patiently exposing yourself to him. waiting. surely in agony- at least he hoped so. his hand adorned his cock in strokes, applying the slick substance. the leftover liquid on his fingertips was used for another purpose, you. his index finger, oiled in lube, traced your puckered asshole. the timid hole he was so excited to ruin.

“can you handle it, princess? me inside your ass?”

you can only answer with a nod.

the position you're in remains too upright for his liking. a hand swoops down, slamming your back flat (as flat as it could go), relishing in new arch your stature provides, with your pussy glistening in need, he can only put those thoughts on the backburner in his mind, “looks like you like the idea a lot, huh baby?”

with a grip jailing your hips, he works to prevent tiring squirming. your wiggling, although arousing, would chip away his concentration. indentations of fingernails were already littered deep into your gentle skin as his free hand circled his tip over your asshole. it's annoying, the tedium lurking in his actions. the all knowing grin you can hear through his little tsks.

but your jaw drops when you finally can feel his tip inside of you. a groan erupts from his lips within seconds. you're tight, clenching around his hard cock, “how's it feel, princess? can i keep going?”

“y-yeah.” your words are chopped and thrown out. loops swarm your head as you already feel dazed with the new sensation. a quarter filled with cock, and half full of lube, you're already aching for more. the assurance you gift is brought with a seemingly pauperized nod.

more of him is slid inside of you. his thrusts are choppy, the groans mirroring the ruggedness. your tightness isn't comparable to your pussy, it's beyond that. the sensations already begin to seclude him. losing himself in your clenched ass, his thrusts grow harder. pleasure conceives restless strings of rubble groans. savagely he makes sure you feel all of him. the pain transcends into something enjoyable, at least for you. the adventure of a puckered entrance seeps into your own conscience. finally you can understand the craze. the mad man behind you bottoms himself out, heavy balls slapping your weeping slit below. each time moans slide from your lips. whines follow when he pulls himself out- he teases you, “you need it baby? beg for it sweetie, c'mon.” and like the good girl you are, you oblige. obliging means he slams himself into you again. ramming his cock as far as he can in pure desperation. sweat drips from his dusted gold tresses that grow tousled with every energized plunge. his words harmonize a sweet melody for you, having your edge creep closer and closer. in the frenzy, the hand keeping your back down migrates to land a coarse blow onto your ass.

a squeal rips from your mouth. the smirk tugging his lips only stretches, “yeah? does my dirty girl like that? fuckin nasty, say it. you love me spanking you.” his demands reign true.

“fuck yeah, holland, keep spanking me- please . need it, need you so bad-” you're cut off by another smack. the print plastered on your ass screams in rouge while the abdomen of his fingers scream in slight pain. your words only egg him on further. the animalistic thrusts only grow increasingly coarse, you feel his fat cock twitch in your ass. it's too much, for both of you. another thrust, your eyes squeeze shut. your pussy welcomes another wreck of his balls, hitting your sopping hole hard.

it's only a few more seconds until you can feel his hot load shoot into you. just not the familiar way. your own release follows suit and of course holland notices. the cracked moans you mewl, the way your body flinches and almost falls limp. yet once he pulls out, you finally give in to complete limpness. he's slow in his movements, eyes glued to the way his cum leaks from the security of your forbidden hole. proudly, he still watches. his chest puffed outwards in complete confidence. the mattress sucks him in once he decides to fall beside you, tapping your ass for good measure. except the tap is soft and gentle.

“how was that baby, i can clean you up, if you want.” the scorching thought of his mouth lapping up your own cum, swallowing it all, is one that pleases you.

again, you give him a nod. the words are too late to arrive.

“i'll go gentle sweetheart, i promise.”

[quietwingsinthesky]

oh goddd now I'm thinking abt vampires in the context of doctor who (not the vampire-fish things from Vampires in Venice but what you think of when people say vampire) and Time Lords being vampires/having vampiric tendencies. I think regular Gallifreyans would have the tendencies to a lesser degree.

Which also leads me to thinking about Vampire!Doctor and how that impacts the relationship they have with their companions. Do they need to drink blood? Or is it just the iron they need? If they Do drink blood why is that? And fangs! I love the hc of Time Lords having fangs so this just goes hand in hand with that.

Do they have the whole "if bitten by a vampire you turn into one" thing going on or is it just like a food source or smthing? Or!!! Would a person have to be bitten a certain amount to turn? Would Vampire!Doctor be able to consciously control if they can turn people?

Gods.... this just proves that Doctor Who is always on my mind, I wasn't even thinking about it but then I saw your post and my brain went straight to Doctor Who.

-🌺 Anon

alsjkfjgksk yeah <3

no no no see ive thought about this before i have, because the easiest way to sexy blood drinking scenarios is through the route of ‘make them a vampire’ and its sooo. ouguh. the Doctor feeding on his companions 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 the way trust transforms harm into intimacy. and it’s the doctor, so you just Know there’s got to be times he won’t let himself partake, that he’ll starve himself out rather than give in, but that’s just gonna make him need More when he eventually has to.

and. and. 🥴 thinks about a companion dizzy with blood loss and the doctor, finally full, licking at the fang wounds as an apology for taking so much.

i imagine interspecies vampirism might not be an easy transfer to make but maybe if you get fed on long enough, you do pick up some traits. ough companions leaving the tardis with sharper teeth and worse sleep schedules and all new blood kinks. total coincidence! probably!

[ccscocoapuffs]

Bill Williamson NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Bill isn't really big on aftercare, he just likes to pull you close to his chest and rub your head as he kisses you and talks to you about his day.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Bill likes his arms the most, he takes pride in the muscle he has built up from all the hard work he does around the camp. Bill loves his partners hips, he loves to have something to hold onto. If you can talk him into dancing while Dutch and Molly have a record on then he's gonna hold onto you hips and sway with you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Bill is a very simple man, he likes to cum deep inside of his partner, given the time period as well this is considered the most normal approach as sex was usually to procreate.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Bill likes to be praised, he would never admit this though. Bill secretly always feels the need for approval and when you praise him it makes the man feel things he can't quite explain.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Bill doesn't have a drastic amount of experience in his life he's had about 3 or 4 partners. He relies alot on his prior experience when it comes to having sex with you but with practice he's a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Bill is a die hard cowgirl kinda guy, he loves for you to ride him so he can grab your hips and set the pace to whatever speed he wants or so he can thrust up into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Bill is kinda in the middle, he's serious enough to keep the moment alive but he can for sure make you laugh if he wants to. Especially will his reactions when you kiss him in front of the other men in camp or causally sit in his lap at the fire and softly grind without the others noticing.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Bill has a damn bush to say the least, it's the same color as his regular hair but its very thick. He doesn't see the need to shave down there and won't be convinced other wise. Bill claims its his "Manhood" (John would be willing to make a bet with you that Micah convinced him of this)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Bill can be a little awkward at romance, so you'll have to make the first move, Not because he's shy but because he simply isn't that good with words. He does like to sneak you a flower every now and then that he may find while he's out doing who only knows what and if you wanna repay him for his kindness he will gladly head to y'alls tent together for a much deserved reward. On special occasions he likes to take you to the hotels in town for a private night just the two of you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Bill doesn't really masturbate because he stays busy with orders from Dutch, however he has you so he doesn't really see the need either. If you wanna partake in mutual masturbation though during some of your free time he for sure would be down.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Bill is more on the vanilla side but he has a few softer kinks like, praise, body worship, and on occasion he likes to lay you over his knee and give you a few spanks.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Bill likes the privacy of you tent, however if you two wanna head out to one of the nicer hotels in Valentine or even out in Strawberry he takes advantage of the complete privacy you two have and will keep you up all night long making sure you have one hell of a night together.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) He loves when you walk up to him while he's sitting by the fire and you start to slowly rub up and down his back before you slide into his lap and whisper all the thing dirty things you want him to do to you in his ear. Nothing turns him on quite like that, he also loves showing the others in camp that you are his, whether this be by him coming up to you and slapping your ass or by lifting u up and walking straight to the tent with you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Bill doesn't like the thought of anybody seeing what's his, so he prefers to keep you all to himself in the bedroom and if any of the other men walk in he may just kill them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Bill prefers receiving to giving. When you suck Bill's dick he loves to occasionally thrust his his into your mouth and here you gag. As for giving Bill likes to sit you up on the table and get down on his knees before diving in. Bill tends to get a little carried away and can over stim you very easy so you may have to be prepared to push his head away if you get to overstimulated.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Bill likes to keep it on the more medium side of pace, Making sure his thrusts are long and deep. Bill also likes sensuality during sex but he keeps that by making sure to kiss up and down your neck leaving a few hickeys while he ravishes you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Bill is always down for a quickie, he loves to sneak you away to some places he finds throughout his adventures and fuck you there before anyone comes looking for you two or before someone passes by.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Bill likes risk but he keeps it minimal, as previously mentioned he wants no one else to see what's all his, so he keeps that in mind when he takes risk's, Bill also takes into account the thing's you say yes and no to before any risks are taken.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Bill can usually go for about 2 rounds before he's done, he loves to use one round just for oral and the second round for absolutely railing you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) shirt answer is no, Toys weren't really big in his time let alone a thing all that much. So no bill doesn't use them, However, if you're going for modern AU Bill then you could probably talk him into using a vibrator while he fucks you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Bill actually can be quite the tease, He likes to make you blush in front of the other girls, which usually ends up with Mrs. Grimshaw yelling at him to leave you alone and go do something else where,

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Bill is loud to say the least, he likes to moan and grunt so you know not only he is feeling good but so the other guys on camp know your all his and you both love each other enough to fuck each other so good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Bill acts like he is a hard-ass and takes no shit, while that's true in some sense he's a big teddy bear deep down especially with you and he has a soft spot for animals.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Bill is about 5 1/2 inches in length, what he lacks in length he makes up for in girth, he's so thick you're still able to see a tummy bulge when you two fuck.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) High, Bill would never admit it but he longs for you all the time, sometimes he has to go away from camp for a few days on a job and while he's away that yearning gets stronger and stronger leading to hi going straight to you as soon as he gets back home.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Fairly quick, he likes to snuggle you and talk to you for a minute first before he gets cozy with you under the blankets and falls asleep, however if he's drunk and you two fuck, he goes to bed almost instantly afterwards.

[spicybylerpolls]

I mean... people act differently in the bedroom. Just point blank, if you look at your friend and go "she would never do that nah." Its possible, she could be a closet freak. No one acts like themselves in the bedroom. So nothing is really out of character unless there is canon material for how they act in such situations.

i just found this on a reddit thread that complains about smut being out of character in fandom in general and it seems like these debates we have re: byler (esp top and bottom, sub and dom) happen everywhere, and tbh, that fact alone speaks volumes? the above argument has been used for byler on this very blog! while it is technically true, it also seems to me to be a bit too obvious and a crutch/excuse for bad writing. for example, the duffers could have said 'mike has never been in a mall before s3, who knows how he'll react?' and then he's opening s3 just twerking on the mall fountain while waving his top around cos he's so excited about all the new shops and the free cinema trips and ice cream. i mean, technically its possible, but is that really mike?

thats a very infantile example because sexuality is complex. but my point is: I KNOW people do act differently in the bedroom, because it brings out another side of people, but the point stands about what 'out of character' actually means, and in writing you need a set of rules decreeing the boundaries of a fictional character - a personality outline - because otherwise their edges blur and they become everyone and no one. and i think this is the problem with lots of smut, as this user wrote:

It's sex scenes where characters stop being themselves and just start being people who are having sex. The sex scenes that feel very could-be-in-any-fandom. Like, for example, when people stop talking like themselves, and not because it's dirty talk or kink or whatever.

THIS! the amount of smut i've read where mike and will could suddenly be interchangeable with any character from any story anywhere, because theyre just two bodies doing sex acts. there are carbon copy phrases and buzzwords (apparently there's even a famous essay on this, says one user: 'you may enjoy ariaste's one finger/two fingers/three fingers/cock rant...')

this is what i mean when i say bad writing. someone on the thread explained that 'A lot of fanfiction is wish-fulfillment, and many of us want to believe the characters we're attracted to are sex gods, even if there's no canonical evidence of it.' the idea of mike and will being sex gods made me laugh and i think very few people who discuss byler seriously here believe they would be, but the operative phrase here is 'characters we are attracted to.' i think this is an unspoken part of fandom, and what divides fans who create fanworks, and original creators. the argument 'the duffers aren't creeps for writing teen sex so why are we?' does hold much water, not because writing smutfic makes you a creep, but because fans are infatuated with characters in a way that original creators usually aren't.

but why not? i dont think it's weird or bad to fall in love with a character. but this still doesnt answer the question of why many writers choose to lean towards this tried-and-typical smut style rather than aiming to emulate the characterisation or writing style of the original creators. so....

why do people think this might be? here are some of my suggestions, and i would love if some of the people who respond are also people who have written/thought about writing their own smut and answer honestly about their thought processes! choose the best that applies to you. thanks to all who partake!

A) the only access to erotic literature i've had in general is via fanfiction, so i can't see any other way of writing it.

B) i've read published erotic fiction and i end up emulating that rather than fanfiction, so i dont think my work is tropey or fanfic-typical.

C) i've read published novels that include sex written in a way i like, so i try to take inspiration from that instead.

D) i write sex the way I have sex/think about sex i've had in real life.

E) i write sex the way I imagine/want to have sex in real life, and this is mostly influenced by porn/fanfiction fantasies.

F) i write sex the way i imagine/want to have it in real life, and this is mostly influenced by my own individual imagination/life experience rather than porn/fanfiction.

G) i prefer the writing style in much of smut fanfiction (e.g. tropes and well-used phrases) because i find them genuinely realistic to character.

H) i prefer the writing style in much of smut fanfiction (e.g. tropes and well-used phrases) because i find them hottest and i typically prioritise this over realistic characterisation.

I) i worry that if my smut is too personal or doesnt read as familiar, people won't like it and i typically (but not always) prioritise audience response over artistic expression or experimentation. i want to add to the canon of byler smut in a familiar way.

J) i try to prioritise what i genuinely think the characters would do during sex rather than my own fantasies/projections/aspirations for either the characters or for myself.

K) i don't usually think this hard about smut.

L) i believe that smut fanfiction, including tropes and well-used buzzwords, does make genuinely compelling and wonderful reading, and i'm happy with the state of smut in general.

Please note that the purpose of this blog is not to be creepy or to make anyone uncomfortable. That's why I created the #spicy byler tag (I will tag all polls with this). If you don't want to see this blog or anything related to it on your feed, please block that tag. Not everyone is comfortable with this sorta stuff, and that's okay.

[luesmainblog]

i'm not gonna reply directly to the post because i don't wanna get into a bunch of shit, but i was surprised to see a mutual i respect reblog it, so i'll say this much. the reason people in bdsm didn't like 50 shades of grey was not as simple as "this is harmful". they didn't like it because it was an innaccurate portrayal of bdsm - or, more accurately, a portrayal of how bsdm can be used as an excuse to abuse - that was CLAIMING to be ACCURATE, GOOD BSDM. the problem wasn't the content itself, the problem was that anytime a criticism was brought up, you were accused of not being able to handle the spice, and the author was CONSTANTLY insisting that what her character did was totally fine and he definitely wasn't Like That. yes, we SHOULD have bare minimum standards of kink, but that doesn't mean "fictional depictions of abuse as kink are automatically harmful". it's about the context and attitude you're entering with, just like any other media. what matters is the conversation around it, not the content itself. Let's all remember that Lolita's biggest problem was readers viewing it as a romance, when the author was certain any sane reader would know how awful the situation was. and i've said it before but it bears repeating until this becomes common sense again: equating fictional abuse, even romanticized, to real abuse causes more harm than its existance does. equating lolicon to actual fucking child molestation is a massive disservice to CSA victims. equating anime twincest to the actual real life abuse of incest lessens the impact the word has for real situations. and i REALLY shouldn't have to say this, but telling a black person that they can't partake in raceplay is SIGNIFICANTLY more racist than anything they're gonna be agreeing to.

and whenever someone tries to give praise to weird and problematic kinks, or talks about how fictional darkness can't hurt you any further than you can hurt yourself with it, or anything remotely related, somebody always comes in with "um okay i agree unless its pedo shit", and we KNOW you mean the fictional stuff. you ALWAYS mean the fictional stuff. and i'm sorry, but no. if nobody was harmed unconsentually in the making of this god damn fanfic then you can just walk away. any argument you try to make for why it's actually Too Harmful To Be Allowed is going to use the same logic that christian moms use to say that pokemon is DEFINITELY going to make your child a satanist. yes, some people can use fiction to cause or perpetuate harm. authors can convince their fans that some fucked up shit is okay, abusers can use ANYTHING to build trust and convince their victims that what they're doing is fine, and people with little self-control can use things that trigger them to emotionally self-harm. all of this is true, and deserves to be talked about and considered. but if you can handle the idea that the majority of people playing violent video games every day are not actually violent people and will react negatively to real world violence, and can enjoy the mayhem they cause in-game while also being aware of how bad it is in real life, and SOME people being inspired to violence does not mean we should ban those games entirely, you can apply the same to kink. even the shit you find abhorrent. to be very frank, we shouldn't HAVE to bring up the therapeutic benefits to victims of real crimes for you to be consistent in your beliefs on censorship. edit: also pointed out to me and extremely important: "pedo shit" is EXACTLY how queer stuff is painted by conservative censors. it is one of the oldest arguments they have. so YES, the best way to immunize ourselves from allowing gays to be censored because too many people find them gross and immoral, is to get used to there being fictional csa depictions even if you find them gross and immoral. your disgust and fear that somebody MIGHT be hurt by it or MIGHT be taking it the wrong way is not, and has never been, a good reason to remove it. again: if no actual people have been harmed in its creation, then it should be allowed. we're obviously not defending actual CSEM here, that is irrefutable harm. we're defending the stupid fetishized anime shit that helps the people who went through that process and move forward.

[anabsolutefreak]

Chapter 14: How Far She Fell

This is a canon adjacent full campaign based story involving my original TAV character, the full BG3 crew and, of course, our favorite undead high elf. I created this story to help me get through an exceptionally difficult time in my life and so, you might notice Tav's story is a little more atypical than some. Be advised that the story I have created has some mature themes including violence, kink, mental health and self harm. I will be placing warnings on each individual chapter when any of these themes are included so please be aware. I hope you enjoy. Summary: It's the night of the Tiefling party. Embrae has been drinking and dancing as Astarion watched, definitely not jealous at all... Need I say more? MATURE CONTENT: SMUT! FINALLY. Mentions of trauma.

Embrae laughed and Wyll twirled her expertly across the dirt, passing her off to a young tielfing with dancing blue eyes. She had no idea how to participate in this group dance, she realized quickly as she tried to follow all of its rhythms and the movements of the other participants. When Alfira and the other musicians had started playing, it had started out with some sort of organization, she thought. However, as the music had become wilder she and the others partook in more wine it had dissolved into a sort of free-for-all There was an air of joy, relaxation, and relief as the party continued. Even Lae’zel, she noted with surprise was watching the festivities from a log with a glass of wine in hand. Even more surprising, given that they had tried to kill each other just nights ago, was Shadowheart sitting next to the Gith with her own glass, eyes sparkling in a way that was most unlike her. The only one she hadn’t seen partaking in the festivities was Astarion. Was he off hunting, she wondered?

Alfira tried, without luck to get Embrae to sing with her at one point. “Just one song!” She whined. “Come now, I know you’ve got it in you!”

“Perhaps,” admitted Embrae with a wine-relaxed grin. “But within me is where it shall stay for now… besides, I think you’ve got the entertainment under control.

By about glass three, Embrae realized that she had overestimated her tolerance for alcohol and waved away Gale’s request for another dance in favor of finding water. 

She walked up the hill towards her tent focusing hard on her feet so she wouldn’t stumble. When she reached the tent, she began searching through her things. “Where the hell is my waterskin?” She grumbled to herself. 

“Looking for this?” Asked a smooth voice behind her. 

She whirled, looking up at the elf. Astarion held a bottle of wine in one hand and her waterskin in the other. She got unsteadily to her feet and took the water from him, drinking deeply. “Thanks,” she sighed happily.

He lifted the bottle of wine to his lips and took a swig, grimacing. Then he looked down at her, eyebrow raised. “Having fun out there, are you?” His eyes glanced over her flushed face thoughtfully. 

“Mmm,” she said hazily. “Just— um, forgot what a lightweight I was.” 

He snorted delicately, staring out at the partygoers below.

“What about you?” She asked. “Don’t you dance?”

“Oh is that what you all were doing?” He asked rolling his eyes. “I thought perhaps you were in the midst of a demonic summoning ritual. I— didn’t want to get involved.”

She giggled. “Oh come on, we can’t be that bad.”

He looked at her and grinned. “Darling, I almost feel I need a new pair of eyes watching you. Wyll is the only one there who shows a modicum of talent— but then, he would.” He almost spat the last part. 

“But you did watch me,” she said smiling back. 

“Someone had to make sure you didn’t go rolling down the hill and into the river darling.”

“And what exactly planning on doing about it from way up here if I did.”

“Laughing mostly,” he snapped. She realized through a light haze that his eyes were narrowed, focused on the Warlock below, who had begun dancing with a pretty tiefling woman. 

She stared at him, shocked. “Are you— jealous?”

He whirled around, his eyes widening. “Of course not!”

“Good,” she said. “Because you know, I wasn’t dancing with him exclusively. Just, dancing— or summoning demonic entities, apparently.” His lips twitched. 

“And why shouldn’t you dance with the tall dark and handsome hero, darling? He is, after all, every woman’s and likely many men’s dream— even I might look twice if I was still a lightheaded adolescent.”

“Not into the hero types are you?”

He rounded on her. “Embrae, heroes are part of the problem. They see everything in black and white, good and evil. Shades of grey like myself tend to be— eradicated around them.” His eyes became far away as he continued. “Heros didn’t save me from Cazador. Mind Flayers did… and I might add that they didn’t save you when you needed it either darling.” He took another drink from his bottle.

Well, what the hell could she say to that? He wasn’t wrong. She sighed. “We’re just friends, you know.”

“Yes, well, you might want to tell him that— and Gale.”

“Gale?” She gasped.

He gave her one of his were-you-born-this-dimwitted-or-did-you-have-to-work-at-it looks. “Yes, darling. Did you think she shows just anyone his so-called “magic tricks?”

Embrae flushed, remembering Gale showing her the weave as it flowed around them, explaining how to connect to it— control it. 

“Exactly,” he said smugly. 

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, watching the scene before them as Gale tripped, almost landing in an angry gythyanki lap. 

“You know, I never fancied myself a hero,” Astarion said smoothly. “I never imagined I’d be responsible for helping save so many lives— and now that I’m here…” He grimaced. “I hate it. This is awful.”

Embrae smiled up at him. “Oh come on, you got to kill a bunch of goblins, didn’t you?”

“True,” he mused, perking up. “That was fun. Still, I’d like more for my trouble than I pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” He scowled at the offending bottle. 

She held out her hand for the bottle. He passed it to her and she took a drink. It was a rich, heavy red. She didn’t think it was bad at all. 

“See?” pouted the elf. “Awful. Is it too much to ask for a little— excitement?”

“I dread to think what that might mean to you?”

“Oh come now darling, I like a good time as much as anyone!” His eyes locked on hers. “We could leave you know— together. Find a nice spot and try spending some time alone again.”

Her heart sped, her body humming pleasantly with wine and thoughts of “alone time” with Astarion.

“Might I deduce by your delectable blush that you might be interested in trying again?”

“I think— I think I’d like that.” 

“Well then,” he said taking her hand. “Let’s go find someplace we can— indulge.” 

***

He led her behind him to a spot downriver, far enough from camp that they’d be able to have some privacy. He could hear her heart beating an almost frantic rhythm as she followed him. He himself was feeling rather relaxed. He was well fed after the battle and the wine, rank as it was, had done an adequate job loosening him up. And she was also relaxed, he thought, but not so inebriated that he would be making the decision for her. He found a nice little cluster of trees near the water and stopped, turning to her. 

Her eyes were warm, her face as relaxed as he had ever seen it and she looked— beautiful. A fresh cut, already sealed over by the cleric’s magic, ran down from her cheekbone, courtesy of a vicious goblin scimitar earlier that day. He ran a finger over it, gently. She trembled at his touch and turned her lips laying tender kisses on each of his fingers. He closed his eyes, trying to drink in the sensation. It was nice, he realized— having her here with him. He felt, different when he was with her, more present perhaps than he usually did during intimacy. He bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. They were warm and they tasted of wine and of her. He allowed his hands to roam, moving slowly down her body until it found the bottom of her dress, a simple but lovely green gown the bard, Alfira had loaned her for the party. He allowed his hand to pause there, playing with the soft subtle flesh of her inner thigh and he smiled a little when she held her breath. Then, with slow precision, he began to lift the fabric, bringing it up over her hips, her abdomen, and her breasts. He took in her naked form, covered only by the skimpy fabric of her underwear. Her olive skin looked so smooth and soft in the moonlight, he thought. Her breasts were small but full and the darkened nipples were already stiff with anticipation as she looked at him, her hazel eyes wide and full of want— of need. His heart gave a little ache almost as though it had skipped a beat and he wondered what it might be like to feel that need for her, for her body. 

He pulled her close to her, savoring her smell, her warmth. Then, lifting his arms so that she could help him out of his own shirt, he pressed harder against her, allowing his mouth to consume hers. Then he bent to pay some attention to her stiffened nipples, gently sucking and rolling his tongue against each as she squirmed in front of him and as he elicited little gasps of pleasure from her. “Eager are you?” He asked her in an almost whisper. 

She didn’t answer but began to allow her own hands to explore his face, his neck, his shoulders. When they reached his back, he willed himself not to react, but he must have stiffened because her hands paused, then retracted. She pushed him back enough to look at him, a gentle smile on her full lips. “You know,” she said, “if you don’t like something, you can just tell me.”

The simple statement threw him. Could he do that? Really? It hadn’t been part of his playbook for the last 200 years. His marks scarcely seemed to notice anything besides the carnal lust on offer. Then again, he had become very good at feeling nothing, pushing through. Only, he didn’t feel nothing now. Why did she make him feel, gods dammit? He felt almost timid, afraid. He sighed, “I— guess I don’t know that.” He whispered. 

She frowned a little, her eyebrows creasing in concern. She saw too much, he realized— saw more than he wanted her to see. “Let’s try this,” she suggested. She drew him to the ground with her and she pushed herself gently onto his lap. Then, she placed her hands in his. “I want to feel you,” she said, “But I want you to lead my hands.” She kissed him on the forehead. “Show me where you want to be touched.”

He looked at her hazel eyes, searching. What did this woman want from him? He wondered, not for the first time. He had been ready to give her what she wanted, what she needed to bring her pleasure, to make her cry out in ecstasy and bliss. And yet she seemed to be almost as concerned, if not more, with his. He sighed. His own was a lost cause, he knew— lost to two centuries of defensive numbness. Still, he thought, he did like when— He grasped the offered hands gently and guided them back to his face, allowing her to caress and stroke his face with gentle movements. Then he guided them slowly to his lips, where he took one of them and began to suck gently, earning him another lovely little groan. He smiled and moved the other hand to his ear which she began to stroke slowly. The sensation caused his own arousal to grow beneath her and she pulled back again to smile, continuing to stroke. “I didn’t know that was— sensitive,” she said.

“No?” He asked closing his eyes at the sensation. He had forgotten she said she—changed when she left her world. He released her hands and moved his own to her own ears, less pronounced than his own but still decidedly elven. He smiled when she gasped in surprised delight as he took the tip of one between his lips. “See?” He purred against her. He bucked his hips into her as she returned the favor and began kissing, tasting, and caressing slowly down each of her ears as he continued to stroke and kiss the places she knew to be safe. As his own urgency built, he realized, it wasn’t enough. 

He took her hands and placed them on his chest. “Anywhere—” he gasped, his voice harsh. “Touch me anywhere but my back,” he breathed, falling back onto the grass. He wouldn’t lay on top of her— he still remembered how she had reacted when he did so in her tent. She grinned, her eyes shining as she bent to kiss him deeply again as she moved her hips against his throbbing arousal and her hands delicately around his ears. She began to move down then, trailing kisses where she went, and warmth. She kissed down his neck, his chest, and then down to his abdomen where she paused, hands gripping his waistband, as though asking permission. He lifted his hips, allowing her to free his now-aching arousal from the leather trousers. He heard his own groan as she delicately took him into the warmth of her mouth, lavishing attention on him with her tongue. It was all he could do not to buck underneath her, not to pull her off and have her then and there— but he resisted, letting her continue. She pulled away and the second she did, he pulled her completely on top of him, kissing her with an increased urgency as she moaned against his mouth. He felt himself driving against her entrance, still blocked by her undergarments, now wet with her own arousal. 

“I’m going to turn you over,” he whispered. “Tell me if you need me to stop.” It was only fair— she had done so for him. She complied with no hesitation, allowing him to roll her onto her back. She writhed and moaned as he began to trail his own kisses up her inner thigh, against the fabric covering her sensitive mound. He looped his fingers around the fabric and pulled it away exposing her completely. He moved his fingers up against her first, feeling the smooth velvet of her folds as he worked around her entrance, teasing. Then, moving slowly, languidly, he began to move his tongue against her, tasting her arousal as he began to press his fingers into her. Her vocalizations became higher then, more desperate and keening as he began circling and teasing her swollen clit with his tongue. She moved desperately underneath him as she whined and panted. “Astarion—” she gasped. “Oh please.”

He drew up slightly, continuing to move two fingers slowly inside her. “Tell me what you want, little love” he purred. 

“I want— I want you. All of you, Astarion— please.”

“All in good time my love,” he said. “But I think I’ll finish up here first.” He pressed his mouth down again pulling a series of delicious cries from the half-elf as he began to move his mouth and tongue in a steady rhythm against her. Her cries grew in volume as he continued, until finally, she cried out, arching her back and spasming around his fingers as she found her release. He continued slowly as she rode the final waves of her orgasm, then withdrew. Then he crawled on top of her, slowly, making sure not to crush her as he nudged one of his knees under hers. “Are you ready my sweet?” He crooned, kissing her on the forehead. “Can you come again for me?”

She nodded frantically as she pulled him closer as if seeking as much contact as she could with him. He shuddered, his own desire throbbing almost unbearably as he pressed his arousal against the sweet slickness of hers. He hissed as he entered her, savoring the tight warmth as he moved slowly inside her. She gasped so loudly as he pressed farther that he looked down at her, concerned he might have hurt her. She shook her head. “Don’t stop, please.” He began to move deeper, more rhythmically inside her as she keened and shuddered around him. He kept his movements purposefully slow for several aching minutes, trying to allow her time to warm to the pressure, and allow himself time to feel all of her. Even as the pleasure built though, he felt himself drifting. No, he thought, pleadingly, Let me stay here with her, completely. But he could feel those old shadows beckoning, subduing his own involvement in the act.  Will I kill this one too?

“Astarion,” she groaned as her hands grasped his hips, begging. 

His name on her lips was almost enough to bring him back, to make him come undone. He began to move quicker, harder against her. “Yes?” The question came out hoarse. 

She craned her beautiful neck, allowing him to see the healed-over scars he had already left. “Take it,” she purred. He growled and leaned forward, his teeth sinking into her as he continued to move with increasing desperation against her. Her blood flowed like the sweetest of wine against his tongue, down his throat, making him feel warm— making him feel happy. She cried out as she came undone around him once again, shuddering and gasping as waves of pleasure crashed around her. He released her neck, clapping a hand to the fresh wound as his own release overtook him and his thrusts became desperate and less coordinated. He groaned and bucked against her, all thoughts of control gone as the pleasure roared through him, his seed spilling into her as they both moved against one another through the remainder of their collective ecstasy. 

***

Astarion moved his hand away from the fresh wound in her neck and began to lay tender kisses against the sensitive skin. “You are— exquisite.” He sighed into her ear. Then pulling himself out of her completely, he rolled off of her, laying on his side with his head against her chest. 

“Mmmm,” she said against the still-present haze of the wine and the afterglow of their union. “I think I should say the same about you.”

“Yes,” he said contentedly. “You should.” He laughed sleepily.

She smiled, looking down at his silver curls as they danced gently in the breeze. She raised her hand, stroking his soft hair there, then gently rubbing his head. 

He sighed. “That feels— nice.” 

She smiled at the surprise in his voice as she continued to massage gently. She wondered when the last time someone had bothered to do something as simple as massage his head before. He had seemed perfectly comfortable, she noted, when it came to sex, but uncomfortable— or unfamiliar with any touch beyond that. She understood, or at least she thought she did to a point. She hadn’t been touched or even wanted to be touched since she had woken up two years ago. It had only changed when she met him. Perhaps not love at first sight, she thought wryly as she remembered the knife against her throat and her own teeth biting into his hand. Still, it hadn’t taken long, at least not for her. Love? She tossed the word around in her mind, wondering if that’s what this was. She felt herself drawn to him, constantly. Not to his looks (although she had to admit he was gorgeous) or even to his overtly flirtatious interactions. No. He used those as a shield, she’d realized. She was drawn to those rare vulnerable moments when the mask lifted and she could see—well— him. But did she really love this irreverent, bloodthirsty, sweet-at-times, chaotic-always elf?

A sigh left the lips of the man in question and she realized he had fallen into a trance. His face, completely relaxed and free of worry, fear, or anger, made her heart throb almost painfully. She closed her eyes as the tears threatened to fall. 

The answer came easily as she realized at that moment how deeply she had already fallen. 

[benevolentgodloki]

L O K I and G for the A-Z dirty asks uwu

Dirty A-Z headcanon game

L - Lighting (are the lights on? off? do they have some kind of mood lighting set up?) 

// Loki's a showy mofo. He very much likes mood lighting, though he's more likely to indulge in creating it with magic if he wants to impress someone and/or likes them a lot. Otherwise he's happy to make do with the light of the moment. He does lean toward preferring the dark, despite liking the attention of being seen, and adores the clandestine feeling of the darkness and its intimacy. It lends him a feeling of power, whether he's in control or not.

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

// Absolutely. Loki likes the thrill of being just a little out of sight but with a chance to be easily caught. Fields of long grass; up against trees at the edge of a forest; on the banks of a lake; on balconies; on outdoor tables of a tavern after dark; up on rooftops. That thrill aside, he has been on plenty of excursions with Thor and his friends where they would bring back companions to their camp. Now and then Loki would find someone or a few someones he hadn't managed to scare off and weren't favouring his brother. Especially if he snuck off and found them by himself.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

// Pretty basic really but he loves being kissed at his neck, jaw, chest, forehead, and waist. He secretly very much likes the idea of being kissed at the small of his back, which would require trust or masking that he doesn't care. He likes to kiss a partner's neck, shoulders, lips, forehead, thighs, waist and hips. Forehead kisses in both instances are less for sexual instances and more for affection. Marks may be verse dependent but by default he doesn't care for giving or receiving them. He does like to playfully bite but isn't interested in inflicting the bruise that makes a mark. Any ownership he takes is preferred through subtler, invisible means. He does not like to feel owned himself and would resent marks at his throat. Fortunately, human partners are very unlikely to be able to make them on his skin. He would quietly enjoy bruises from rough sex/a battle beforehand, but they would ideally be incidental and not possessive in origin.

I - Impact play (talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.) 

//Ok, so he's practically the god of kink so I feel weird having my Loki not be super into certain things, but I guess it's more like he's pro kink even if he personally doesn't go for everything. I suppose impact play he'd be down with if his partner specifically wanted it doing to them and were clear about what they wanted. He would enjoy playful spanking but not when it's in the classification of impact play. Either he wants it light and silly or he wants a full on rough and tumble fight that turns into sex. Smacking a partner with a paddle or whip isn't really his bag, though in female form she might enjoy a messaround with a riding crop or flogger, inflicting not receiving. Ehh, I think again it's situation dependent. I could see him enjoying having a male partner tied face down while he spanked them XD it's just likely the sub requested it rather than something Loki would invite people to have done to them.

G - Group sex (would they have a threeway? four? an orgy? do they put on a show for spectators? or do they like to keep it just between them and their partner?)

// Asgardians aren't unknown for their partaking in group experiences, even if Loki was supposed to somewhat behave with his princely status. Obviously he didn't, and neither did Thor. He has attended a few orgies in his time. Loki likes attention, especially when he's drunk, so he will draw it upon himself, but it's only when he's exceptionally drunk that he'll do so fully naked. The rest of the time he likes to remain mostly clothed and participate in a more controlled fashion. He ranges from refined to completely wild. In no-strings relationships, he's very open to this. If he's attached, which is a rare thing, he has the potential to become insecure and needs assurance and love from all parties involved that he's not going to be discarded out of distrust.

[seoness]

Writing Schedule

To get some structure, and for you to know what's coming since I figure that some follow this page due to a certain project, be it More Than Our Servitude, Tales of the Reborn, Kinktober or waiting for a request to be written. The release order isn't etched in stone, but a general pointer. I'll also explain a side project I've been cooking on the side.

Release order

Tales of the Reborn: Last chapter of the three-chapter-batch (goal is to have it out before the end of this week).

Kinktober - Praise Kink

More Than our Servitude part IV

Tales of the Reborn: Weekly chapter

Kinktober - Mirror Sex

...and so on

(Please note that you are always welcomed to leave requests. Requests of oneshots might be worked into kinktober. Asking questions are always welcomed and I treat them more casual so they usually don't get a long wait-time if you don't spark my craving to write an imagine 😂 I see answering questions as a treat. It's one of my ways of relaxation.)

✨ Side project ✨

Now right of the batch, this project isn't becoming the main one. Tales of the Reborn and having fun with ya'll is my main priority regarding this page and Ao3. I also want to preface that this project might never see the light of day and die in its cradle. I'm only putting it out there into the universe to see if it is even something anyone would ever want.

But I love fanfiction and games, so why not combine the two? A version of interactive fiction. (NOW I AIN'T SAYING SOME TRIPLE A SHIT, SO SLOW YOUR HORSES) The holy rule of fanfiction is that no money is ever made from it, and that's something I'd never break because I love that about fanfiction, it takes no money for you, the reader, to partake in it. Except for the investment in some type of screen and internet connection... but you know what I mean.

I just want to make something, make it free to download, and try to give the reader as much power to influence the story as possible. You want to spend your time by the Hound's side? Go for it. You want to try and assassinate Littlefinger? Off you go. Want to kill Tywin Lannister, but in the end become attracted to him and wanna fuck him? Well, you do you. As I said, I'll attempt the challenge in my spare time and if it takes years to complete, it will take years to complete. People have been fans of LOTR for a lifetime and I'm pretty sure ASOIAF is going to be mine.

[watching-pictures-move]

Put On Your Raincoats | Ape Over Love (Sear, 1974)

When you first see the gorilla suit in this movie, you probably won't be impressed. For one thing, you can see the actor's neck. Not a terribly convincing gorilla. But that's the thing, it's not supposed to be. For the gorilla takes his mask off, and it's revealed to be none other than the great mustachioed thespian-fornicator Harry Reems. In the universe of this movie, the gorilla suit is not used to represent a real gorilla, but a man who desires to be one. Some could take issue with the movie's halfhearted commitment to the gorilla suit gimmick and its lampshading of the suit's inadequacies, but most of these pornos depict erotic fantasies, and I appreciate this one being upfront about it.

Reems plays a dog walker who also fantasizes about being a gorilla. He goes to the zoo, watches the gorillas (who conveniently are nowhere to be seen as it's supposed to be too cold out, likely to avoid visual comparisons between the suit and the real thing) and does some facial gorilla acting in attentive close-ups, raising his eyebrows and jutting out his jaw. He dreams about making love to his employer, a hideously be-wigged but otherwise quite agreeable Mary Stuart, and eventually meets Bree Anthony, a woman who shares his...proclivities. "What were you doing?" she asks, to which he responds, "I was being a gorilla." He eventually opens up further: "I'd like to be a gorilla someday. Lotta power." The movie interrogates the fantasy, but offers hope that even those with outre desires can find happiness with a like-minded individual. The soundtrack compounds the theme, with "King Kong" and "I'm an Apeman" by the Kinks being featured prominently. (We also get "A Whole Lotta Love" and a funky cover of "Come Together".)

That the two make love is no surprise, but the fact that both of them partake in some breathy and enthusiastic gorilla-themed dirty talk might be. References to "your fur", doing it "like an animal", and "as the monkeys do it" as well as a genuine compliment: "What a great ape you turned out to be." Gotta respect the movie for letting Anthony be as freaky as Reems. I must sadly report however that the movie cops out to an extent, in that Reems is never depicted having actual sex in the gorilla suit. He usually approaches his partner with the suit on at first, but inevitably takes it off as things heat up. I suspect this is for one of two reasons. Either the suit was too hot for Reems to comfortably perform in, or the suit was a rental and the filmmakers couldn't risk getting any jism on it. In any case, art did not triumph over banal practical concerns, and to get your gorilla-related jollies, I would instead recommend Carlos Tobalina's Jungle Blue, which is a less consistent affair but bravely makes good on the promise of its poster.

I will say that while the sex scenes are otherwise unremarkable and in line with early '70s porno filmmaking, after the crude construction of Wet Wilderness, the scenes here felt positively dynamic with their changing camera setups and variety of positions, and I was not immune to the charms of Stuart or Anthony during the proceedings. But I was paying less attention to the sexual fireworks than the eccentric decor of the rooms they took place in. In both bedrooms we visit in this movie, there are two large big-cat-themed prints adorned on the boldly coloured walls, one a feline landscape of sorts filled with portraits of tigers, lions, leopards and the like in pointillistic proximity, the other an admiring profile of a leopard. Sorry my attention went to these, but it's true that all men think about is pussy.

Okay that was terrible, but the movie is not. It certainly makes a difference when the performers exude some semblance of likability, and as the saying goes, any movie with a gorilla suit is automatically a good movie.

[dhobiliteservice]

What is Tumbledry, and how could it be unique in relation to Line-Drying?

At the point when you put your fair washed garments in the dryer for comfort, that is the very thing Tumbledry is. While Line-Dry is allowing your newly washed garments to hold tight the fabric line to normally dry. Tumbledry is a result of present day innovation and one of the brilliant machines that countless individuals have decided to make their life simpler.

dry cleaning shop near me is it truly making things simpler for you? Have you at any point thought about what could be the aftereffect of Tumbledrying your garments? On the off chance that not, then, at that point, we should examine the reason why a dryer isn't exactly a guiltless home machine.

Tumbledry isn't Great now and again

Despite the fact that Tumbledrying is a latest possible moment rescuer for some as it evaporates your garments in essentially less time, yet are you prepared to put your dear garments under the coercion of all the fake intensity that would bring about possible harm. Perhaps not! Line-Drying would permit your garments to dry with the assistance of the sun and the air passing on your garments to feel new and splendid.

Tumbledry is Costly

Doing your clothing causes all in all a cost as of now, be it for the clothes washers, power bills, and the cleansers or solvents. Drying your garments in the dryer presents to you a few extra expenses, and that is not even negligible in light of the fact that a dryer machine and dryer sheet are costly, and you are likewise troubled with the higher energy bills brought about by it. However, you can decide to cut the gigantic cost by simply returning to the regular method of line-drying your garments that isn't just eco-accommodating yet additionally an invigorating outside action.

Tumbledry may not be Delicate

The persistent tumbling and throwing of the garments in the dryer joined by high intensity and steam pressure brings about irreversible harm to your textures. The cycle that your garments go through in the dryer abbreviates their lives. Difficult to accept, isn't that so? You should rest assured about the harm by simply cleaning the build up trap after each cycle, and the build up that you see on it is only your garments' destroyed fragile strands. Conversely, line-drying your garments is without all that thrash around as your garments evaporate in the swinging development brought about by the regular breeze.

Tumbledry implies more Mechanical Activity and Fabric Harm

Tumbledry is a totally mechanical cycle that can prompt not-super great outcomes, like the contracting of garments and wearing off the textures. Washing in the chilly temperature and moving it to the dryer's hot setting causes unsettling on the garments. The outcome is every one of the minute tears that we can't see, obviously. A review uncovers a towel washed and afterward dried in the dryer multiple times loses around half of its sturdiness and elasticity.

Tumbledrying implies Badly creased Garments

Tumbledry makes your garments move in vast circles in the dryer, packaging them generally together, which causes wrinkles on the garments. Albeit the garments emerge from the dryer as delicate and smooth, after all that diversion, they don't look fit to be worn except if you iron them, yet when you pick line-drying, the garments normally gets their unique shape and, surprisingly, the current kinks because of washing scatters.

Staying away from the utilization of a dryer would bring back your garments' life span, and it would be an invigorating open air time spent hanging the new and just washed garments while partaking in the warm daylight. We leave you with this idea as a definitive decision is consistently yours.

For more info. visit us:

[zorosdimples]

i associate your blog with piss kinks!! i mean.... kinda obvious. tbh i didn't even have one until i saw your post explaining why you had one😭

like i get it now. its the warmth and the yeah yeah yeah🫣 safe and warm and filled???? ugdhshjs would probs never do that irl cuz i am SO prone to utis but... the thought of it... its nice

also breeding? not sure why but thats a kink i also associate w your blog. love it. your blog is so fun i love just coming on here and looking thru your blog to see what i've missed. so unhinged sometimes i love it SO MUCH

i love it when my writing helps people see things—kinks especially—in a different light! it’s easy to turn your nose up at something you’ve never tried or don’t understand, but many of us have discovered kinks through reading and writing about them. and sometimes we just enjoy fantasizing about acts that we’d never partake in irl; that’s the beauty of fiction!

it tickles me to hear that you enjoy visiting my blog! it’s crazy to wrap my mind around the fact that people enjoy my silly posts. i feel like i haven’t posted anything super out of pocket lately—maybe i should change that ;-) thank you so much for your kind words! they mean the world to me 🫶🏻

what kink(s) do you associate my blog with?

[depravedsafehaven]

Bodyshaming kink goes hand-in-hand with... body positivity?

TW: this post will mention restricting eating disorders

Yeah, I'm not kidding. If any of you reading this know my blog a little, you know I'm into bodyshaming. And if you're new, well. Hi there, I'm depravedsafehaven, I'm fat, and I have a bodyshaming kink. My bodyshaming kink only extends to my own body, not to anyone else. I also don't have a kink for becoming fatter (although I don't judge anyone for having that kink).

But what do I mean with the title? Well, most people aren't 100% happy with their body. In fact, I think a lot of people are actually unhappy with their body. Before I was fat, I was suffering from EDNOS. My ED specifically was restricting and purging. I wasn't skinny, but I definitely wasn't fat, although I believed I was. At that time, even though the idea of bodyshaming definitely turnt me on, I didn't partake in it. Why? It would only damage me.

Bodyshaming kink can be incredibly fun, but its also a very sensitive kink for a lot of people. And you need to be in the right headspace for it. Just because you may not like your body, can't be a reason to partake in it. You have to be absolutely sure it won't cause any psychological damage to you.

Like I said, I'm fat now. Without going in too many details on the how, it was out of my control due to disability and medication. Losing weight is also impossible at this exact time for the same reasons. I've been at this weight for 2 years now, and at the start I was devastated. I could barely look myself in the mirror. I would not be in any condition to participate in the kink.

But I forgave myself (which is very silly I had to do in the first place), accepted myself. I'm still not happy with my body, but I'm owning it. This won't be my body forever. And even if it is, its not the end of the world. I still have enough amazing qualities about myself that I love. So what if I don't have the best body (according to me)? Thats how I knew I was ready to try out the kink. And I'm enjoying it! It's not making me feel worse about myself!

So please, if you're thinking about trying the kink out, keep all of that in mind. Are you accepting about the thing that you want to have degraded? Will you be damaged by having it degraded? Will you even enjoy it? Don't use the kink as a way to 'motivate' yourself. That's not what it's about. It's about enjoyment. Be clear about your limits. If you think you're ready to try, ease into it. Discuss afterwards what you liked, what you didn't like. Never be afraid to safeword if it goes too far (but that's always a given).

Stay safe, sane and Consensual.