CRISPUS @maluscrisp - Tumblr Blog

25/09/19

I didn’t want to stay in uni today so I’m home, wrapped up in blankets, going through physical textbooks and adding the notes to my class notes

nakamotens

ten :: superm behind album photoshoot

minuty

“Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant?”

— Henry David Thoreau, Walden (via minuty)

fieldtomatoes

happy fall

bbylangdon

I will never fully get over this look

crimsonkook

The coven when Stevie showed up

averylangdonchristmas

cody fern at the HFPA press conference for “American Horror Story: Apocalypse”

lvngdvns

Holy Trinity of Michael Langdon Concepts™️ that get me going: 1. breeding kink I said what I said 2. Michael likes when reader cries while he’s fucking her 3. Michael likes to dress reader in all white to remind her of how pure she is and to accentuate how’s he’s corrupted her

I think I may love you. The only thing I’d add is religion kink and knife/blood play.

But otherwise? Spot on. You get me. 👌

(And now I’m imagining combining dressing her in white with religion kink, Michael calling her an angel and yet making all kinds of comments about her purity and her innocence as he fucks her, telling her that he’s defiling her and that she’s a sinner........ oof.

"Not so holy now, are you, angel?")

cherryberryann

same energy

lvngdvns

There is a serial killer in town, so Reader is a bit nervous when she accepts to follow the man she met in a bar, Duncan. She doesn't know what to think when another man is on the bed, waiting for them, but she thinks that since this Michael (who is even more sexy than Duncan) is here, she didn't follow a killer to his lair. Too bad nobody thought there could be two. If she survives, it will only be because they will decide it, and that will not really be good news for her.

Oof, this is dark. And I’m here for it. 👀

Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you find yourself enveloped on the bed between the two men.

The brunette—Duncan, you remember; the charming one with the alluring smile and the cheerful laughter who’d plied you with drinks (”are you trying to seduce me?” you’d teased him, to which Duncan had simply quirked an eyebrow and asked, “why, is it working?”) back at the bar—holds you pressed back against his chest with the blade of a dagger pressed against your throat, while the other (Michael, you think) kisses his way down your body, his long golden hair fanning out over your skin.

“You chose well, Duncan,” Michael murmurs as he looks up at him through hooded eyes, the two of them sharing a secret sort of smile. Michael slips his hands between your thighs and pries them apart, ignoring your whimpers and attempts to squirm away, brushing his thumb over your soft skin, marveling the sensation of being able to feel your pulse thunder beneath his touch.

“Don’t worry, pet,” he coos at you as he ducks his head to nip at your hipbone. “We won’t hurt you.” A pregnant pause ensues. “At least, not yet.”

“Or perhaps we won’t hurt you at all,” Duncan breathes into your ear, his hot breath making you shudder. “It all depends on you.”

“Mm, but I think she thinks to be hurt, Duncan,” Michael muses as he moves further down the bed, closing his eyes as he inhales the scent of your growing arousal. “You should see how wet she is already, and we’ve barely even touched her.”

“Is that true, pet?” Duncan drawls. “Do you like being here with us? Completely at our mercy?”

“Yes,” you murmur shyly, unsure if lying or honesty would be the better option for you.

Michael’s grins, sharp and feral, as he ducks his head in between your thighs, licking a flat, broad stroke up the length of your cunt. You tremble in Duncan’s arms, quietly gasping out Michael’s name, and Duncan simply shushes you, increasing the pressure of the dagger against your throat. “He’s good, isn’t he?” Duncan whispers to you, watching with heated eyes as Michael laps at your cunt, making you moan and whimper. “See, that’s his trick. How he gets the girls to fall for him.”

“Worked on you, too,” Michael snaps as he lifts his head to address Duncan, his mouth all shiny with your arousal. “And Duncan is the charmer, as I’m sure you discovered. Mr. silver tongue.”

Fear creeps down the base of your spine and ice settles in your belly as you listen to them, creating an odd, twined sensation of arousal and anxiety. “But you’re something different, pet,” Michael muses as he flicks his tongue against your clit. “You’re tough. I like that.”

Duncan nips at the lobe of your ear as he begins to trail his free hand down your body, brushing the tips of his fingers against your clit as Michael continues to eagerly eat you out. “If you play nice, if you’re a good girl for us, we might even keep you around.”

You swallow around you dry throat, trying to find your voice. “And if you don’t?” you ask hoarsely, your eyes wide with fright as you glance between the two of them.

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Duncan coos as the blade of his dagger creates a small nick on your throat. As his fingers continue to work between your thighs, he ducks his head and licks up the small beads of blood, a low groan reverberating in your chest. “After all, I do like you.”

“She’s sweet,” Michael breathes against your skin, delving his tongue between your folds. You cry out and rock your hips against his face, all traces of your panic momentarily overshadowed by the pleasure that’s beginning to crash over you in waves.

“What do you think, hm?” Duncan asks as he continues to mouth at your throat. “Would you like to be ours? Our sweet little pet?”

His question comes at the same moment your orgasm slams into you, and the only response you can muster is a sharp cry of: “yes!”

You don’t quite know what you’re agreeing to—to Duncan’s proposition, or to the way your body responds when they call you that, their pet, or to orgasm that tears through you, or to Michael’s pleased grunt as he laps up your cum, or your chance at possible survival—but in that moment, you want it all. To not only live, but to belong to them. To recieve more of what they’re offering you.

It feels like eating forbidden fruit, like selling your soul to the devil, but when Michael raises his head and grins at you, leaning over you to exchange a heated kiss with Duncan, that icy fear in your belly begins to turn to fire, and all you can think of is more.

“I repeat,” Michael murmurs against Duncan’s mouth, their lips connected by a thin trail of saliva, “you did choose well.”

Duncan smirks as he turns your head towards them, drawing you into the kiss as well. You moan softly as you taste yourself on both of their tongues, and Michael’s fingers curl possessively around your thigh. “Don’t worry, pet,” Michael grunts. “We’re not letting you go anywhere.”

Duncan hums in agreement. “You’re ours.”