The fruits have ripened, and I welcome you— feast...
You can call me Keres. This is my sideblog. I use she/her exclusively, and you will find this blog to be horny, as sideblogs so often are (lust of the blood variety; be warned). I maintain that I do not have a DNI, but while you're here, I certainly hope you will respect the host and her guests. However, I do not like racists, transphobes, radfems, misogynists, the ill-informed and otherwise poorly behaved. This is not a place where you will be welcome. Additionally, while here, I ask you to be accountable. You are responsible for what you consume, and if you cannot handle your food and maintain your manners, then I would prefer we not acquaint ourselves. See yourself out, or an escort will be provided. I'd also ask, at a base, for your understanding that this blog is adult-only, and so likewise, I'd prefer to host an age appropriate table—and not only in attitude. I cannot stop you; I cannot protect you; I say this for myself because I'm not comfortable with it, although I remember what it was like to be young, and so at most I ask, "do not follow; use your own discretion; and above all, stay safe. No one needs to know what you read online". I think kids ought to hear these things more, instead of just a "KEEP OUT", which can be unsafe in and of itself, especially if no one ever tells you why it's there. You're a person! You deserve respect! 18+ please is my MDNI. And finally, if you are a man, or male-aligned, you may be seated, though you are certainly not exempt from the rules. Feast if you wish, but maintain your composure. No unsolicited... behaviors. I post for myself, above all. I am not flirting, nor will I flirt. I do not know you, and I'm not interested in getting to know you. Provided that's all fine, sit down, and dig in!
I do not tag well. I tag... barely at all, sometimes. I want to get better, but... There is blood, there will be guts, sharp things, revelry, et al (#eroguro). This is a blog for the depraved and the deprived. Expect things of that nature, and note that while I don't consider myself to be too extreme, what that means to you may be different than it is to me. Occasionally, I use #keres consumes for music, formatted as such, and #keres consumes: series for specific properties, and sometimes characters, although I try to use #main course: character and #appetizer: character more consistently. They may not all be tagged yet, but I post and reblog various media, mostly selfship (I do so love to share my food; please tell me about him). Off the top of my head, my F/Os are Stein (Soul Eater), Ace (One Piece), Sebastian (Stardew), Simon Blackquill (Ace Attorney), Spamton (DELTARUNE), Astarion Ancunin (BG3 — kind of a lesser interest now), Mithrun Kerensil (Dunmeshi), and Belphegor (OM). There may be more? I'll add those if or when I remember them. TBD.
not that you’re complaining — how could you? especially since something has changed in recent months. something has become sticky, mushy, needy.
feelings. there are new feelings, but you both ignore the aforementioned sticky, mushy, needy feelings because you’re best friends, and best friends don’t have sticky, mushy, needy feelings for one another.
portgas d. ace is always hanging off you. his arm, freckled and strong, is always slung around your shoulders. he leans and slouches, pressing the full length of his body against your side whenever he can. he’s always there, in your orbit, tangling himself up in your space.
the crew knows that you, a vice-lieutenant shipwright, and the division commander are two peas in a pod; inseparable, indivisible, and integral. where his voice carries, your laughter is soon to follow. ace burns bright, like a star streaking across the sky, and you’re the moon he dances for. you call his name from high up on the mast, and he always calls yours back.
no one pities the fool portgas d. ace makes himself for the sake of your smile. no one pretends there isn’t something else there, either. marco thinks it’s gonna kill him — ace, with his longing looks, and you with your lingering smiles. always when the other isn’t looking, but for fuck’s sake, marco is looking. marco sees it. marco can’t unsee it.
feelings! sticky, mushy, needy feelings!
portgas d. ace, whose threshold for appropriate touching is quickly diminishing despite the whole best friend title. his newest, baddest habit is a sturdy kiss to your temple in passing — always paired with a murmured hey you. he’s recently started to tangle his fingers in yours during quiet moments up on deck. always during the setting sun, always when you’re off shift, and he’s avoiding whatever new responsibility pops throws him.
portgas d. ace, who starts sleeping in your bed — he blames the barracks. they’re too crowded. marco, his bunkmate, snores. you’re lucky, he says, you’ve got a tiny little cabin, with a tiny little bed, and a tiny little water room. a perk of being one of the few female crewmembers. the perk is stolen by ace, who starfishes out and runs hot. you start sleeping with less and less clothing, and ace chases the feeling of your skin against his in his sleep.
there’s a line. always. you’re best friends. best friends who touch and roughhouse and laugh. best friends who fall asleep in one another’s arms, best friends who knock foreheads together when they hug, best friends who daydream about kissing one another—
portgas d. ace is your best friend. best friends don’t kiss.
sure, fine, he’s in his cups. sure, fine, so is the rest of the division. crammed shoulder to shoulder in this port’s small tavern — the crow’s nest — he’s fighting for his damn life. you and the other shipwrights have parked yourselves at a table in the back. old man weller is reliving a tall tale about a whale and a boy, but ace knows you’re not listenin’.
he knows, ‘cause you’re lookin’ at him.
and he’s lookin’ at you.
portgas d. ace smiles like he’s in love. your smile breaks over the crest of your cup, and ace’s world spins a little, and he almost topples off his barstool.
he disappears into the crowd of the crew, only to appear at your side. he slides into the booth, slick and smooth. his thigh presses to yours and his arm curls around your shoulder and his breath is soft against your cheek.
“is this th’ whale story?” he whispers into your ear, a touch slurred and a touch deep, “again?”
he doesn’t pull back when you turn your cheek, your nose to his as you nod and whisper back: “he’s embellishing.”
this close, you can count each and every one of portgas d. ace’s freckles. this close, you can see the faint reminder of a sunburn. this close, you can admire the deep, deep brown of his eyes. you don’t have to be this close to know he’s beautiful — but it doesn’t hurt.
sure, fine, you’re in your cups. sure, fine, so are the other shipwrights — and they are none the wiser to whatever tension is crawling between you and the second division command in your little corner. between the music and the laughter and the chatter and the tall tales, this moment is sacred and secret.
ace’s chuckle is delayed and a little rough. he’s first to pull away — only enough to sneak his ale to his lips and swig. you turn your cheek, look at weller, and listen cheek to cheek with ace.
“how would you know?” he asks in an incredulous whisper, nose dragging across your temple. he’s a beat from laughing, and you smack his thigh. it’s light. you keep your hand there. the arm around your shoulder twitches, and you let him rough-house. he shakes you gently. he pulls you into his chest and tucks you under his chin.
you don’t pull away.
“i’ve heard it a thousand times,” you whisper back, lifting your chin to look up at him with a rum-kissed smile, “same as you.”
something flickers across his face, then. something you see. something that stays, and you blink — your eyes dart from his gaze to his mouth. ace’s fingers still where they draw a lazy circle across the skin of your arm. he can’t look away from you, not when you’re curled up in his arms and smiling. you can’t look away, not when he looks at you like that — like you are more than just best friends.
portgas d. ace is your best friend. best friends don’t kiss.
there’s a line. a boundary. an invisible promise that the way you two touch each other is nothing more than friendship. he tries to remember the boundary, he tries to remember how things where before — before things changed, before he knew he was in love with his best friend. ace smiles, because he can’t remember it.
his other hand engages in its newest habit — he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
you’re lookin’ at him.
and he’s lookin’ at you.
“…what are we doing?” he murmurs. his voice is so low and gentle, it feels like he’s dragged his blunt nails up your spine with reverence.
“i dunno, what are we doing?” you breathe. you’re drunk enough that you stumble over your words; your face is close to his again. he’s craned his neck down, his hat hiding you both from the tavern. from his division, from your shipwrights.
“i know what i want to be doing,” he mumbles, so close his mouth brushes yours. his eyes stare, intensely devoted to the moment.
you don’t pull away. your fingers tense against his thigh, and ace wets his lips. you ask, already knowing the answer:
omg birbs..... portgas d ace and his spit kink..... walk with me?? 👀
PORTGAS D. ACE drags himself halfway out of you — achingly slow. His dark eyes flick between your face and the mess between you, his jaw hanging half open and his voice husky.
“It’s a damn shame you can’t see yourself right now, angel,” he rasps, clearly enamored with the sight. His hands are braced against your waist. He kneads the soft flesh there and holds you steady as he continues to pull out. Too slow. He’s staring. Just like all things Ace does, it’s done with a fiery intensity.
The thick, swollen head of his cock stretches you, just enough to ache, before he pops out with a satisfied laugh. The Second Division commander whistles, and you’re too far gone to give a shit about the objectification.
…Is it hot in here? It feels hot in here.
He can’t get enough of this view — god damn. Ace knows that if he doesn’t slow down, if he doesn’t pace himself, he’s gonna come quick. Too quick. And that?
That would ruin the fun.
His abs tense as he leans back, his eyes drifting to the sight of your sex. His thumb swipes roughly across the slick gathered around your folds, and he toys with you. All the while, his eyes are trained on your face — he’s hunting for any and all reactions. He rubs your clit in a slow, slow, slow circle and stares as your entire body locks up, and a breathy version of his name rushes out.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” is his response.
It’s your turn to stare as he lines himself up, gathers a wad of spit in his mouth, and lets it drop lazily onto your clit. The string of saliva connects you for a moment, and you gasp. It’s warm and wet, and Ace wastes no time dragging the head of his cock through it before pushing in again. Wet. Sloppy. Messy.
“Oh, you tightened up—”
He’s buried to the hilt again, and your thighs tremble as he reaches up to secure a hold on your jaw. It’s rough enough to make your submission immediate. His hands are hot. His forehead knocks against yours as he rocks his hips and grins.
“Does my pretty angel like it when I make a mess of her? Yea? She does?” he’s nodding his head, his expression keen, and you’re nodding along — you’re half aware, somewhere in your mind, that Ace could convince you to agree to anything in this moment. Then:
“Open.”
His fingertips are warm, and they press into the muscles of your jaw. It feels good — and your mouth lolls open. Ace’s pace is hitching, getting a bit quick. Doesn’t help that you’re staring up at him, tongue laid flat, mouth open, with a blissed-out look in your eyes.
He gathers another wad of spit, and you actually moan when it falls onto your tongue. Saliva bridges the gap between your mouths and Ace actually huffs. You swear the hand on your waist gets hot — real hot — while Ace stares at the act.
thinking, ruminating (stewing, if you will) on portgas d. ace / best friend!reader mutual masturbation under the guide of "this is normal we're both stressed it's totally fine ahaha anyways can i kiss you on the mouth while i cum?"
god I really love angry helpless subs. frustrated clenched jaw tied up glaring and growling, trying to keep a hard look but slipping as they're taken by pleasure. wound up by teasing and praise alike and unable to do a damn thing but try to stifle their moans and look tough. just wait, baby, I'll unwind all that tension and the embarrassment you feel from the pathetic sounds you'll make will have it feeling even better for it. awh, go on and curse and glower all you like. I see that brow curving, feel your hips bucking, feel your muscles trembling. I can practically taste the plea trapped in your chest. go on, sweet thing. beg for it. I'll get you so worked up all that toughness will melt right away. come on, doll. you want more? say please.
togame jo makes me feel crazy cuckoo nuts bananas every time like have you genuinely ever seen a guy look so boyfriend. droopy eyes and messy ruffly hair and sweatpants. and a giant cock
The room was dark, only one stream of light coming in through the door. The ropes held your wrists and ankles to the chair tightly. Tied in a way that had you self conscious of how open your legs were. The room echoed with the sound of Jude’s footsteps as he slowly paced. Ellis stood behind you.
Your heart hammered in your chest. You knew it was just roleplay but the adrenaline pumped through you and your chest felt tight, like you were actually in danger.
Ellis leaned in. “I hope I didn’t tie them too tight,” he whispered.
You turned to give and gave a smile while shaking your head.
Your attention was jerked away when Jude grabbed your chin. He stared down at you. His eyes cut into you like he was dissecting you.
“Ya best tell us what cha know, or else.”
Smoke from his cigarette wafted up. Around his face, partially obscuring it.
You opened your mouth but no sounds would come out. You swallowed. “I-I don't have to tell you anything.” Your voice came out less confident than you'd hoped.
“Hah! Ya think ye can hold out with a response like that?”
Within an instant, his hand snatched the back of the chair and pulled. The chair tipped forward with you, forcing you to look into his eyes and smell the smoke in his breath. His face was so close to yours. The chair felt so unsteady. His hand was the only thing keeping you from falling. He examined you. His amethyst felt like they were tearing into you.
He smirked. You rocked as he adjusted to hold the chair with only one finger. “I could let cha fall flat on yer face. Bet it would look real cute an’ pathetic.”
You gulped. The heat between your legs got worse, but the ropes held you down.
He pushed it back. The balance tipped and you landed on all four legs again with a bam. It rocked back with so much force it tipped backwards.
Your heart nearly dropped until you felt something soft and firm and warm on the back of your head, stopping you. You turned your gaze up to see Ellis smiling down at you. You sheepishly smiled back. He felt so much bigger than you when looking down at you like that.
He set your chair back down.
Jude’s voice suddenly snapped you out of it. “Ellis, wanna rough the birdie up?”
Ellis glanced to you and you nodded. He smiled.
“Sure.”
He pulled out his knife. He quickly flipped it so the back, non-sharp side faced you. He pressed the back of it into your flesh and pushed down. Enough so you could feel the pressure and a bit of pain as he dragged it down your body. But you could tell he was being very careful not to accidentally cut you.
Heat flared up between your legs. Your chest began to heave. He pushed harder and you couldn’t suppress the moan.
“Hah,” Jude laughed, “yer turned on by this ain’t cha?”
He lifted his shoe and pressed it between your legs. He rocked it into you and you squirmed in the ropes. Moans ripped from your throat.
Jude pulled his foot back and stepped back.
He took a drag from his cigarette. He held it between his fingers as he leaned in closer to you. The heat from it made your skin tingle as he hovered it close. For a brief moment he looked you directly in the eyes. A question in his usual harsh gaze.
You nodded. He pushed the burning end of the cigarette into your arm. Your face twisted in pain and you screamed. You tried to press your thighs together. The ache only grew worse.
Jude removed the cigarette and flicked it to the ground. Ellis swept in with an ointment and rubbed it into your skin where the circular burn was. You bit your lip and whimpered softly at the sensation.
His hands slowly wandered and caressed all over your body. You sighed and leaned into him. Your body melted into a puddle.
Next thing you knew, the ropes were pulled undone and you were pulled off the chair and onto your knees. You hesitantly stared up at Jude.
A smirk formed on his face that sent shivers down your spin. “Since ya ain't usin’ yer mouth fer anything good…”
You got a chill down your spine. He grabbed your chin before changing his mind and grabbing your hair. He yanked your head towards his groin. Your eyes widened as you stared at it, wondering if he was really going to do it. His free hand went to his belt. It clicked as he undid it. You licked your lips.
“Lookin’ a little too eager there. Makes me wonder if this ‘s even a punishment fer ya.” He smirked, just about to pull it out, until his eyes turned up to Ellis. His face quickly turned to annoyance. “Look away.”
You almost laughed, until he pushed/forced your mouth onto his member.
He immediately started at a brutal pace as he fucked your face. Tears pricked at your eyes and you almost gagged. You could feel him deep in your throat. You desperately tried to relax it.
You felt Ellis soothingly stroke your back. Your skin tingled at his touch. Your muscles actually relaxed and you could take Jude better. You tried your best to run your tongue along him.
“No peeking,” Jude said to Ellis.
“Okay.”
You did your best to glance over at Ellis and you saw him covering his eyes with his free hand to follow Jude’s order. Jude yanked you back down on him harder.
Ellis’s hand went down to your rear and squeezed gently before sliding between your legs. You gasped and nearly gagged as you felt him start to rub you. You saw a flash of his knife reflexing in the small amount of light. Your heart leaped to your throat.
He moved the hilt of it between your legs and pressed it in. Slowly rocking it against your clothed sex. Moving it just right. Pressing up against the spot that made it throb.
You moaned around Jude.
After a moment Ellis pulled the knife back. Then you heard and felt a rip. Air suddenly hit your sex and his fingers went back to work. You choked out a moan and pressure coiled in your stomach.
Between Ellis’s fingers and knife and Jude hitting the back of your throat, you couldn’t hold it back. You cried out around Jude’s cock as you came.
Jude’s hips stuttered and he twitched in your throat. He grunted and let out a guttural groan as he spurted down your throat. His hands pulled your hair tight as he finished.
After a moment he sucked a big breath in and pulled back. He left your mouth with a string of saliva still connecting you. He pulled back so quickly you would have fallen over had Ellis not wrapped his arms around you.
He sat you up against him on the floor and stroked you as your limp body came down.
Ellis hummed as he held you in his arms. He pressed his face into your neck and ear.
“I lied earlier,” he said softly. “I looked through the cracks in my fingers. I couldn’t help it. You looked so cute.” His smile faded a bit. “I just wished it was me who made you look like that.”
Jude’s head whipped back around to Ellis. He scowled. “Gonna be workin’ ya to the bone fer a month fer that.”
The Spamdick situation really gets me, you know? Soft, muscular, so so flexible. Trying to hold it in your hands and it just pushes past that with a mind of its own, less like a blowjob and more like a kiss, one tentacle tangling with your tongue, pulling, blissed out, the other brushing along your incisors, brain fuzzing as it pushes into your mouth...
Remember last year when I started on this? Well, it's in the notes again, so I'm certainly recalling. Spamton G Spamton. Favorite since his first appearance in 2021! I, uh, didn't really expect this back then, but hey...
