Same energy
★
No title available
Cosmic Funnies
YOU ARE THE REASON
occasionally subtle

Kiana Khansmith

Product Placement
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Not today Justin
macklin celebrini has autism
NASA

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
RMH
noise dept.
taylor price

#extradirty

Origami Around
Cosimo Galluzzi
$LAYYYTER

PR's Tumblrdome

seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia

seen from Australia
seen from India
seen from Iraq
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from France

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@naughtynirnroot
Same energy
hey folks! i won’t be around tumblr as much now, but if you’d like to follow any new fic or my nsfw twitter, links are below!
ao3
nsfw twitter
hey folks! i won’t be around tumblr as much now, but if you’d like to follow any new fic or my nsfw twitter, links are below!
ao3
nsfw twitter
hey folks! i won’t be around tumblr as much now, but if you’d like to follow any new fic or my nsfw twitter, links are below!
ao3
nsfw twitter
hey folks! i won’t be around tumblr as much now, but if you’d like to follow any new fic or my nsfw twitter, links are below!
ao3
nsfw twitter
Getting this in while I can
Commissions || Redbubble || Ko-fi
Is suggestive still okay on Tumblr or is my robo-sona playing with his power button also illegal?
Commissions || Redbubble || Ko-fi
kisses
Kinktober Day 7 - Praise Kink
Zaan (Skydancer)/Muroc (Imperial)
Muroc has barely managed to hang his jacket on the door before eager arms encircle his waist, followed quickly by Zaan’s little kisses against his cheek. He’s saying something but the words are garbled by his lips pressed against Muroc’s skin, and Muroc tries to tell him as much but as soon as he opens his mouth Zaan covers it with his own. It’s playful, as Zaan’s kisses always are, his tongue flicking against Muroc’s to coax him into deepening it, parting his lips so pliantly to practically beg his imperial to kiss him harder. It’s rare that Muroc resists such an invitation, but this time he gracefully pulls away enough that he can speak.
“You sure missed me, huh sweetheart?” Muroc says. He brushes a bit of red hair behind Zaan’s ear, his thumb tracing the skeletal design over his cheekbone. As much as he loves Zaan’s eager affection, it’s hard for him to tell the difference between that and blind devotion or dependence. He doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice. “I missed you too. Did you… just sit around here waiting for me to come home?”
“Nope!” Zaan chirps, and Muroc immediately feels his heart lightening. It can be wonderful to have someone’s whole life revolve around only you, but Muroc is doing everything he can to leave that life behind him - and his new boyfriend is surprisingly independent. “I just got back a couple minutes ago actually! Nil got lost so I spent like all day looking for him.” Zaan laughs, a sound that’s so bright Muroc swears it fills his very heart with glee. What have I done to deserve such a pure soul in my life? “Turns out he was in the cafe playing chess with Elskah the whole time. Not that I knew that until after dinner - I totally got lost too and ended up in some closet that locked behind me and I only got out ‘cause Zahkrii and the Captain were looking for a place to hook up.” Zaan giggles again, and Muroc carefully takes his face in his hands so he can hold that electric blue gaze. There’s nothing in his eyes but pure delight, no ulterior motives or plots or a hopeless dependency that makes cold guilt settle in Muroc’s stomach like lead. Just joy, pure and simple. It’s so refreshing. “So you can imagine how awkward that conversation was! Oh, damn, here I am talking about me - how was your day Muroc? Did you do anything fun? Talk to anyone cool?”
“I talked to the sweetest, most wonderful boy in the world, actually,” Muroc says softly, and leans in for a gentle kiss. Zaan makes a happy noise against his lips and hugs him tighter, trying to talk again instead of pulling away first so he can be understood. Luckily, Muroc is pretty adept at translating Zaan’s frequent kiss-chats.
“Oh, he sounds fun! Do I know him?” Zaan mumbles against his lips, and though his voice is still upbeat Muroc can see his feathers droop slightly. He’s never been very good at hiding his feelings, a flaw Muroc is actually quite grateful for.
“It’s you, silly,” Muroc hums, smiling into their kiss when he feels Zaan’s crests perk back up again. “Don’t you agree? Are you a good boy, Zaan?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Zaan says with utmost seriousness, his brows knit together as he thinks. “Am I?”
“You sure are. The best boy.” Muroc smiles, feeling very much like he is talking to a puppy. The way Zaan’s eyes light up at the praise, he can almost imagine his tail wagging.
“Am I really?!” The excitement in Zaan’s voice is absolutely adorable, and the way he starts to bounce on the balls of his feet is really too much for Muroc. How is this boy so cute and innocent?
“Yes, the sweetest, most handsome boy I have ever seen.”
“Ever?”
“Ever, Zaan.” Muroc presses another soft kiss to Zaan’s lips, each little delighted giggle his skydancer lets escape making his heart so much warmer. Zaan really has the most adorable laugh. His eager bouncing, though, makes it a bit difficult to keep up their kiss, so Muroc gently walks him backwards to the couch. When the backs of his knees hit the cushion Zaan makes a surprised little purr.
“You want me to sit or lay down?” he trills, his bright blue eyes a little darker with interest. Even as amorous as Zaan gets, Muroc has never seen him consumed by lust - his eyes always had the brightness of his affection no matter what Muroc did. Did he really deserve to be loved like this? So purely and deeply?
“Muroc? You want me to sit?” Zaan’s voice breaks Muroc from his musing, blinking as he looks up and meets Zaan’s soft eyes again. His head is cocked to the side, brows furrowed as he tries to understand why his imperial won’t respond. Muroc smiles as gently as he can, apologetic.
“No, I’d like my handsome boy to lay next to me. I want you close, feel how warm you are, see your cute smile... “ Muroc slowly lowers himself to the couch, languidly lounging on his side and gesturing to the space next to him. He must be giving Zaan damn good bedroom eyes because the skydancer is positively riveted, frozen in place with a besotted grin on his face. Muroc gives him a couple moments before murmuring, “lay next to me, sweet one”, which seems to snap Zaan from his trance. Even though he’s sure his enchantments don’t work on Lightning dragons, Muroc can feel a curl of anxiety in his stomach - I’m not using magic to trick him into this am I?
As though reading his thoughts, Zaan laughs to himself before saying, “You don’t even need magic to leave me enamored, huh babe?” Shaking his head and dropping heavily to the couch, Zaan giggles again as he cuddles in close and squirms until Muroc wraps his arms securely around his waist. He gives a pleased little sigh at that, a sound that tugs another smile at Muroc’s lips. “You felt a little worried for a sec… is everything okay?” Zaan tips his head to the side quizzically before leaning in for a soft kiss. He isn’t very skilled at interpreting the sensations his skydancer senses pick up, mostly just getting a lot of random signals that don’t translate to an emotion, but he’s getting more sensitive to the little bursts of concern and anxiety Muroc is prone to having.
“Oh, yes, sorry, just a passing thought,” Muroc assures him, already feeling the little pang of guilt when Zaan looks at him with those big, trusting eyes. What was the point in worrying his sweet skydancer with the truth? It would just stress him out and it wasn’t something he needed to bother with anyway. “Don’t worry about it angel, let’s get you nice and comfortable shall we?”
While Zaan nods earnestly Muroc leads his skydancer’s arms to loop around his neck, smiling as Zaan reflexively pulls himself closer, close enough to share breath. Must have gotten a snack at Shiraav’s shop, Muroc thinks, allowing himself to enjoy the citrusy sweetness on Zaan’s warm breath. He sure loves those little lemon candies... For a moment, Muroc is lost in the memory of their last trip to the sweet shop, how Zaan eagerly pointed out all his favorites and chirped about how fun sour candies are - I make the best faces when I eat them and the hatchlings love it!
He probably would have reminisced much longer, but Zaan’s needy little gasp breaks him from his musing. Muroc’s brows furrow, confused what had provoked the sound before realizing that at some point during Zaan’s determined squirming to get closer Muroc’s knee had slipped gently between his legs - and now Zaan’s instinctive wriggling had him grinding against Muroc’s thigh.
“Oh, did that feel good sweet one?” Muroc murmurs, letting his hands drop from Zaan’s waist to slide over the rise of his ass instead. Zaan reflexively jerks forward at the touch, a soft little whine of pleasure escaping his lips as Muroc raises his thigh in time with the movement. “You’re not just sweet my dear, you’re positively saccharine, among other wonderful things.” As Muroc speaks, he punctuates each word with a light kiss and squeeze of Zaan’s ass, enjoying the little pleased gasps he provokes and the needy way Zaan’s hips move against him. “Kind… thoughtful… helpful… selfless…” The material of Zaan’s pants is damp, dark with precome as his breath picks up and his arms looped around Muroc’s neck tighten.
“Am I… am I really all those things?” Zaan breathes. He leans in for another kiss but has to break away on a loud moan, each uneven shift of his hips against Muroc eliciting another eager whine.
“Yes,” Muroc says emphatically, gently bringing a hand up from Zaan’s ass to rest on his cheek and guide him back for more kisses. Zaan can’t do much more than moan into them, but Muroc is happy to swallow up his delicious sounds between murmurs of praise. “Not just all that, but you’re so sexy too Zaan. I love the way you whine for me, so happy to let me know I’m making you feel good. I love when you look at me with your warm blue eyes. I love your smile, your little giggle, the way you tell stories like each one of them is the next great epic. I love how gentle you are with everyone, no matter if they’re a hatchling or some rude tourist just passing through - my heart just gets so full when I watch you talk to someone. I love you, my perfect, handsome, sweet Zaan.”
Muroc can feel Zaan’s body tense against his own, a high-pitched whine of his name on Zaan’s lips as his hips jerk sharply forward once more before his body falls slack. He pants against Muroc’s lips, eyes so hazy with pleasure and a hot blush of exertion coloring his dark skin. His cheeks are almost as red as those cherry markings, Muroc thinks fondly, brushing over the one lining Zaan’s jaw.
“Sweetheart, did you…?” Muroc murmurs, nudging his thigh up against Zaan’s much damper pants. Zaan lets out a little whine.
“Yeah I totally came,” he admits breathlessly, and a blush creeps up in Muroc’s cheeks at his response. “You were saying such nice things and that you love me… I couldn’t help myself!”
“Oh, Zaan, angel…” Muroc brushes back some of the sweaty red hair from Zaan’s face, leaning in for a much deeper kiss. Zaan pliantly lets his lips part, trilling happily as Muroc’s tongue slides so sweetly against his own. Though there is still that nagging sense that Zaan’s pure affection is undeserved, Muroc can’t help losing himself to the moment - the way Zaan sleepily tries to pull him closer, muscles weakened by the afterglow; the way he mumbles how much he loves Muroc, how happy he is that they’re together. His heart has never felt so light.
“Zaan, my love, you’re perfect.” Muroc can feel Zaan’s smirk against his lips, the mischievous way his crests flick - he’s really terrible with his poker face.
“Almost perfect… didn’t get you off yet.”
the-four-humors replied to your post “writing some little ficlets for kinktober y’all! some flight rising...”
i was peepin at your nsfw blog the other day and ����good shit
ahh thank!! prompts are such a blessing or else i never write anything lmao
hmm I need some music for my cult leader and her girlfriend
thank you for this gift spotify
Kinktober Day 6 - Biting
Senkar (half-Elf)/Saxxon (Tiefling)
Another whine escapes Saxxon’s throat, high-pitched and needy before it breaks on a gasp. Everything is so hot he can barely think, can barely breathe. His fingers scrabble over Senkar’s sweaty back, desperate to find something to hold onto and ground him, but they slip over the slick skin and he lets out a soft, pained whimper.
“You okay cutie?” Senkar murmurs, pausing the rough rock of his hips to give Saxxon a chance to catch his breath. “Did I hurt you? Is this too much?” He starts to lever his weight off Saxxon’s chest but the tiefling digs in his fingernails, Senkar moaning lowly at the feeling. Saxxon nuzzles into the crook of Senkar’s neck, arms shaking as he works to slow his ragged breathing. It takes a few moments, Senkar occasionally turning his head to press a soothing kiss to Saxxon’s neck, but eventually he can feel Saxxon’s tired little smile against his skin.
“I’m okay,” Saxxon says breathlessly. “I just want… I want you closer. And then I get overwhelmed and I need to…” Senkar can feel Saxxon’s hot blush warm his skin, and pulls back slightly so he can look down on Saxxon’s dark navy face. His violet eyes slide off to the side, embarrassed to have Senkar looking at him, but Senkar is quick to dip down for a nibbly kiss to get his attention again.
“You need to what, cutie?” Senkar purrs, a sound that’s at the same time inviting and dangerous. Saxxon shivers, the motion tingling along Senkar’s body where they’re connected and making him groan. He can’t help a careful thrust forward, absolutely thriving off Saxxon’s needy whines as he’s filled again. Ignoring Saxxon’s pleas of “faster Senkar, fuck me harder, please!” Senkar keeps his pace slow, leaning down to murmur in Saxxon’s ear again. “What do you need to do?”
Still hot with embarrassment, Saxxon clutches Senkar close and buries his face in his neck, desperately hoping the half-Elf will just forget what he’d said. He tries to few more sultry moans, begging him to go faster, but Senkar is frustratingly steadfast and keeps his infuriatingly slow pace. Finally, Saxxon mumbles something against Senkar’s neck, and cries out as a particularly hard thrust sinks deep into him.
“Say it out loud for me, yeah? Can you do that sweetie? You wanna do that for me?” Senkar’s toothy grin makes Saxxon smile despite himself, unexpectedly charmed. He glances up to try to meet Senkar’s eyes but their intensity makes him look away again, which just makes Senkar smile even more.
“I need… I need to taste you,” Saxxon mumbles, the last couple words almost unintelligible. Senkar immediately grins even brighter, leaning down and tilting his head so the crux of his neck brushes teasingly against Saxxon’s kiss-swollen lips.
“That right? You maybe wanna bite me with those fangs? That what you want little guy?” Senkar says, voice so silky and playful. Slowly, Saxxon nods, mewling in pleasure as Senkar’s hips snap forward to drive into him at a harder pace. “You like it a little rough, don’t you cutie? Not enough to hurt, just enough to be felt, to make you babble and whine while I make you see stars. Cyrus spoils you, he’ll fill you up good for free.” Senkar rolls his eyes then slides his hands to Saxxon’s hips, tilting him upward slightly until he tenses and cries out a breathy, “there!” Senkar focuses on that spot, savoring the slick sound of Saxxon’s ass slapping against his thighs and the warmth of Saxxon’s arms hugging tight around his chest. “Not me though… I’ll make you work for it. You wanna bite me? Bite me hard. Make me feel it. You do that, and I’ll make you so full cutie.”
It’s so easy for Saxxon to match Senkar’s quick pace, so eager and desperate Senkar hardly has to move at all with how his tiefling is squirming to pull him deeper, harder. Senkar can feel the little nick of piercings over his skin before Saxxon finally parts his lips, at first just dropping soft kisses on Senkar’s neck before a particularly well-angled thrust makes him gasp and nip the skin. Pleased with that reaction, Senkar bucks against that spot again, hard enough this time to make Saxxon whine and bite down on his shoulder. His sharp fangs dig in, just enough to make Senkar cry out but not enough to break the skin. Saxxon almost immediately pulls away, a babbled apology on his lips, but Senkar is quick to give him a reassuring kiss before offering his neck up again.
“I don’t - oh fuck, oh gods - I don’t wanna hurt you!” Saxxon babbles between moans.
“It feels amazing cutie, I promise. Those fangs feel so good I could come just thinking about you nibbling me,” Senkar gasps, voice breathy with restraint but determined to reassure his very concerned tiefling. “Come on, your noises are so cute but your teeth are even better. Bite me hard. Gimme some bruises to brag to Cyrus about, yeah? Make him jealous of all the fun we’re having without him?”
Saxxon whimpers, imagining Cyrus’ annoyed rumbling and how much he’d want to “punish” them for excluding him. Senkar’s pace is erratic, punching near constant mewls from his trembling tiefling until Saxxon finally bites down on his shoulder again. Immediately, Senkar’s moans fill the room instead, high pitched as the sharp point of a fang breaks the skin. As soon as it does Senkar’s whole body tenses, pressing in one hard, final thrust as he spills into Saxxon. He lets himself catch his breath for a moment, but Saxxon’s desperate whine spurs him on, arching his back to rub his belly against Saxxon’s dick. The piercing is odd, smooth and cooler than Saxxon’s hot, sweaty skin, but he loves the way it makes his tiefling writhe and moan.
“There you go cutie, you gonna come for me?” Senkar purrs. “Can already feel the bruise you gave me, gods… gonna be thinking about you all week when I see those little fang marks on my neck. That what you want? Me, touching myself, thinking about you…” Saxxon’s head falls back as he moans, so loud Senkar is grateful for the bards playing their “music” downstairs. Saxxon’s body shakes, cycling between tense and relaxed for much longer than Senkar would have thought. The space between them is far far stickier than before, and Senkar can’t help a satisfied smirk when Saxxon’s body finally falls slack for the last time.
“That… looked pretty intense,” Senkar says, breaking into a low chuckle when Saxxon gives him a besotted smile in response.
“I think I came twice,” Saxxon mumbles. He tilts his head but he’s too tired to raise it up. Thankfully, his sad whine is enough to get Senkar to lean down for a kiss. It’s soft, far more tender than Senkar is used to, but the way it makes Saxxon purr happily is too much to resist.
“That’s real hot. Got a lot to brag to Cyrus about,” Senkar laughs, and twists his neck to try to get a look at the bite Saxxon gave him. It’s already dark and a bit swollen, and a satisfied grin tugs Senkar’s lips. “I love this Saxx. You give the best presents.” Though Saxxon still doesn’t really understand the appeal of getting hurt, it felt damn good to not worry about being careful with his fangs, and he gives Senkar a soft smile.
“I’m glad I could make you happy.”
cute threesome idea:
Person A holding person C’s head in their lap, as person B absolutely fucking pounds person C. Person C holds on for dear life and moans as Person A showers them with affection and praise.
Kinktober Day 5 - Sadism/Masochism
Sosdothur (Imperial)/Viidost (Imperial)
The sting. The lingering burn.
Each sharp crack of the leather across Viidost’s ass makes warm tears spill down her cheeks. Her pulse pounds in her ears, the force of each snap jolting her body forward into the wall’s damp concrete. Her cheek feels raw and wet, whether from the fetid stone or her blood dragging against it she isn’t sure.
“You’re such a delicate thing, am I going to break you? Would you like me to tear your flesh, bare your bones so I can see what’s really inside you? Something more than a my simple little pet?”
The voice is low, gravelly, almost inhuman. It scrapes in Viidost’s ears like a jagged blade.
“Yes, oh mistress please, I want you to wreck me,” Viidost pleads, crying out as another sharp crack of the belt leaves a hot line across her ass. It aches like nothing she’s ever felt, each slap more painful than the last instead of growing numb. The welts would take weeks to heal, her immunity to magic making the usual healing method unavailable. The thought makes her smile. “Ravage me, destroy me, make me beg you to stop.”
For a moment, the sting of the leather pauses and Viidost seizes the opportunity to draw in a shaky breath. Her muscles ache from tensing in anticipation of another lash. She’s almost giddy with the euphoria pulsing in her veins, but bites her lip against a hysterical sound that threatens to bubble up.
A cool hand runs over the hot skin of Viidost’s ass, and she instinctively tries to flinch away as it traces the tender flesh. It’s gentle - too gentle - and the softness of the gesture makes her shiver. Sosdothur being gentle is never a good thing.
“Make you beg me?” Sosdothur’s gravelly, inhuman voice echoes. She sounds amused, almost playful, and Viidost can feel her blood turn to ice. “You will grovel at the feet of your queen, plead for my mercy even though you know I will never give it. You do not need such pathetic favor - you’re stronger than that. You are my deputy… you will worship at my feet because you are the only one worthy of being so close to me.”
“Whatever pleases you, my queen,” Viidost breathes, tensing again as Sosdothur’s hands slide away and she hears the stretch of the belt’s leather behind her. It whistles through the air to snap across her back, dragging a sharp cry from her throat and leaving a thin line of blood in its wake. “Please… suffering brings me closer to you, mistress. Let me feel your pain. There is no ecstasy like shedding blood for my liege.” Viidost shakes, so far into agony that hysteria turns it to pleasure. There is no where else in all the world she wants to be than in this dark basement spilling red drops of devotion for Sosdothur.
“Then do not beg me to stop, my pet. Beg me for more.”
Kinktober Day 4 - Mirror Sex
Saxxon (Tiefling)/Teagan (High Elf)
It had taken some negotiating and the assurance that Saxxon wouldn’t have to look at himself, but eventually he agreed to have a mirror behind them in the bedroom. “I want to see my beautiful boy from every angle,” Teagan had sad, and blushed when Saxxon added, “And you want to be able to watch yourself, exhibitionist.” Teagan couldn’t deny the appeal of that, and Saxxon had smirked confidently and said he would be happy to try it. The thought made him nervous, not at all comfortable with being watched by someone other than Teagan even when it was his own eyes, but he knew it was something Teagan had always fantasized about and he wanted more than anything to do something special for his birthday. He’d always given Saxxon amazing gifts, and this was the least he could do.
It didn’t take long for Cyrus and Quinn to find out their plans - Saxxon’s chattiness made it hard for him to keep secrets, especially when they were about things he was stressing over. He really wanted to do this for Teagan, wanted to help his fantasy come to life, but the thought of accidentally glancing over his shoulder and seeing himself reflected in the mirror made his blood turn to ice. I only want Teagan looking at me, no one else… especially not me. The older men assured Saxxon that Teagan would have all his attention, he wouldn’t have to watch himself even once because his sweet blushing Elf would be very distracting, but a gnawing uneasiness kept clawing in Saxxon’s stomach.
Cyrus had found them a mirror and volunteered to set it up, taking special care to be sure that the reflection wouldn’t bounce off any other shiny objects and accidentally give Saxxon a view of himself. When Cyrus was satisfied with the angle he gave both boys a reassuring kiss on the forehead before reminding them that he and Quinn would be just down the hall if they had any trouble. Teagan had blushed, embarrassed that their “Dads” knew their plans for Teagan’s birthday, but Saxxon was grateful to know they were concerned about him getting too stressed. If it ended up being too much for him to handle, they could go cuddle in with Quinn and Cyrus and talk about it. With that reassurance, they’d headed to bed.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Teagan says, his voice so soft in the quiet room. A lot of the bards that usually played late at night were performing at the park to enjoy the summer heat, leaving the bar almost eerily silent. Saxxon’s breath is quick, whether due to his excitement or nervousness neither one of them is quite sure, but it’s so loud and almost panicked it makes Teagan’s heart ache. Even without the sound of his breathing it’s easy to tell his tiefling is nervous - blushing and quiet instead of being his usual smirking, chatty self - and Teagan carefully takes Saxxon’s face in his hands to try to ground him. “We can do something else - you know how weak I am for you sweetheart, anything we do will be perfect. If you’re scared -”
“I’m not scared,” Saxxon says quickly. His hand reaches up to rest on one of Teagan’s, tilting his head into the touch and trying to give a reassuring smile. Teagan still looks unsure, eyebrows pulling together in that cute way that makes a little crease in his forehead, and Saxxon leans down to press a soft kiss to that spot. “Really, I want to do this for you. I’m a little nervous, yeah, but…” His breath catches, a lump in his throat making his words shaky. “...I love you so much Teagan, and I trust you. I know I’m safe and that you love me too, and I want to do something special for you.” Tears prick his eyes, for a moment overwhelmed by his feelings for his wonderful, patient Elf, and the shininess he can see in Teagan’s eyes is nearly enough for him to cry but he manages to hold himself back.
“Oh Saxx, I love you…”
They take their time getting undressed, the usual urgency tempered by their warm affection rather than the raging lust. Teagan’s shirt gets caught on one of his Elfy ears and Saxxon laughs, the sound alone like bursting a dam and letting Saxxon’s wariness start to flow away. Teagan giggles too, loving the sound of Saxxon’s voice and how much less tense he looks just from that one laugh. He’s talking now too - “Gods Teagan, you’re so hot” - and that even more than the occasional smirk and chuckle assures Teagan that his skittish tiefling is starting to feel comfortable.
Warm hands brush over flushed skin, sensual as much as soothing. While Saxxon’s eyes are closed with pleasure Teagan sneaks a look at the mirror behind them, keening softly at what he sees - they both look so wrecked, hair stuck up at odd angles and Saxxon blushing a dark navy all the way down his back. His tattoos are stark against his skin, and Teagan can’t help massaging down his back and tracing each one that he can see in their reflection. Each kiss over hot, flushed skin and light scrape of Saxxon’s fangs makes them moan as much as it slows Saxxon’s panicky breathing, settling him down until he’s relaxed enough to push Teagan to the mattress and slide into his lap.
Even with their hearts pounding and their eagerness making the space between them slick with sweat and precome, they go slow, letting Saxxon tremble and moan for a while before Teagan presses in another inch of his cock. “Gods, Saxx, you’re so tight…” Teagan pants, his words almost lost under Saxxon’s loud whine of pleasure, his ass finally meeting Teagan’s hips. They stay still a moment, Saxxon trying to catch his breath while Teagan runs his hands over his tiefling’s sweaty thighs. “You’re beautiful, so gorgeous for me, look at you…”
Saxxon grins down at him, his laugh breathless as he registers the besotted admiration in Teagan’s eyes. Bracing his hands on Teagan’s chest, Saxxon raises himself up slightly before sinking back down again, punching twin moans from them as the pleasure courses hot in their veins. Saxxon’s eyes fall closed a moment before he forces them open again, determined to drink in every one of Teagan’s delicious expressions. He rocks quicker, letting Teagan’s cock slide out almost all the way before dropping his hips back down at a rapid pace. Teagan can’t do much more than pant his name with every free breath, jerky thrusts upward hardly able to keep pace with Saxxon’s skilled grinding.
“How - ah fuck - how do I look? In the mirror?” It takes a moment for Saxxon’s question to register, Teagan’s mind so foggy with need it’s hard to think. He blinks, realizing he was so enraptured by Saxxon’s expression he forgot to even glance at the mirror behind them. Saxxon tilts his hips back for a better angle, crying out as his rhythm starts to get more uneven and his dick dribbles a slick trail of precome over Teagan’s stomach. Knowing Saxxon is close, Teagan reflexively reaches up to stroke him and play with that cute piercing at the tip of his dick, but Saxxon gently bats his hand away. “N-Not yet, tell me how I look… I wanna come with you telling me cute shit.”
Despite the needy desire pounding in his chest, Teagan can’t help an endeared smile before dutifully tilting his head to look behind his eagerly bouncing tiefling. Gods, what a view. It’s easy to see Saxxon’s pleasure of course, always above him and giving him a show when they fuck, but in the mirror he can see his own pleasure too - the way his legs tense to thrust up as Saxxon sinks down, the dark blush that extends from the tips of his ears to the head of his cock, sinking into his tiefling at a quicker and quicker pace.
“S-Saxx, I can’t -” Teagan cries, the sudden heat in his belly so strong it releases almost as soon as he feels it, moaning as his hips jerk up to grind in deeper and make Saxxon whine at the feeling. Though his eyes fell closed as he came, Teagan quickly flicks them back to the mirror, trained hungrily on his shaking tiefling. He’s absolutely captivated watching Saxxon’s slicked rim stretch to accommodate him, come starting to dribble down Teagan’s length and let Saxxon ride him even harder.
“Oh fuck, oh Teagan, you’re so hot and deep,” Saxxon babbles, and though Teagan is starting to tip into oversensitive, listening to his sweet tiefling’s delighted chattering makes another curl of pleasure settle in his belly. As wonderful as this feels - and gods does this feel amazing - it feels even better to know Saxxon is genuinely enjoying himself and not feeling nervous. Belatedly, Teagan remembers that Saxxon had another request.
“You’re beautiful Saxxon, stunning and sexy and handsome… gods, I could watch you like this every day for the rest of my life and never think that was enough.” Teagan’s words make Saxxon beam, grinning even as he leans further back and the new angle makes him gasp. “Your tattoos are so cute, and your shoulders are so nice, and fuck your ass is to die for babe, looks so good bouncing on my… my…” Teagan swallows nervously, surprised his eagerness to do what Saxxon asked had carried him this far, but dirty talk is really not his forte. “My… cock.”
With a loud cry Saxxon feels his muscles tense sharply, come splattering over Teagan’s stomach in warm drops. He rocks a couple more times to ride out the high before collapsing on Teagan’s chest, breathing hard and blindly nuzzling against his neck and jaw until Teagan tilts his head properly for a kiss. Their kisses are breathless and sloppy but so affectionate that neither of them care about the finesse, just enjoying sharing breath and soft murmurs of praise. They shiver as their bodies start to cool, wholly unwilling to pull away from each other to clean up. Saxxon reaches for a blanket that got flung off the mattress and pulls it over them, cuddling in close and dropping a chaste kiss on Teagan’s nose to make him smile sleepily.
“Happy birthday, my muse. Here’s to another year of your enchanting music.”
Kinktober Day 3 - Knife Play
Cyrus (Human)/Senkar (half-Elf)
“You need to stop?” Senkar’s voice is sultry but firm, cutting through the dark haze Cyrus has lost himself in. He shudders as he takes slow breaths to steady himself, that tight panic in his chest starting to subside and let him think more clearly.
“No, I…” Cyrus swallows thickly. He startles at the feeling of Senkar’s warm hand on his cheek, having expected the cold edge of the blade again but grateful to lean into his palm instead. “...just, slower. That was a bit more than I was expecting.” He flinches again as lips brush carefully down his neck, tracing a thin rivulet of blood trickling from his cheek. Teeth graze his skin but don’t bite down, a little shiver shaking Cyrus as soon as the teeth pull away again.
“Always wanting to go slow, old man.” Senkar’s voice is almost mocking, but there’s still that soft note of concern that keeps an instinctive panic from tightening Cyrus’ chest again. “You’re too excited for it to be because you’re lazy, though…” A hand rubs roughly over the coarse material of his pants, Cyrus’ hips chasing the sensation even as Senkar pulls away with a chuckle. “No, not you being lazy… worried about this scruffy mug, maybe?” This time Senkar’s lips are at his cheek, kissing the little nick he’d left with his blade. It’s a superficial wound, would take just a day or two to heal, but it still bled enough to run down Cyrus’ neck - and cause him to stop responding long enough to provoke Senkar checking in on him.
“Not worried about my face, kitten,” Cyrus mumbles, shifting his position in the chair so there’s less pressure on his arms bound behind his back. He groans as blood starts to fill his tingling limbs, turning into a low grunt as Senkar’s weight settles into his lap.
“Would taking off the blindfold help, big guy?” Senkar’s fingers delicately slide along the soft material at his temples, finally resting under Cyrus’ jaw to tip his head up when he doesn’t respond. “I’m putting us in ‘red’ instead of ‘yellow’ unless you talk to me, Cyrus.”
“Sorry sorry, just thinking,” Cyrus murmurs, carefully leaning forward until he’s met by warm lips against his own. Senkar is quick to tug Cyrus’ bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling the already kiss-swollen skin until he groans so low and needy in his throat. “Trying to think, you viper.” Senkar relents, but not before smirking against Cyrus’ lips. “Thank you. I think we’ll quit the blindfold for now. Not being able to see you is messing with my head in… not a good way.” Even before he finishes his sentence Senkar’s fingers are deftly untying the knot at the back of his head, easily letting the material fall away. Cyrus blinks, fuzzy shapes snapping back into focus after a few seconds of squinting against the sudden brightness. Their room is dark, just a few candles flickering in the corner, but it still takes a couple moments for Cyrus’ eyes to adjust to the light.
As his eyes regain focus he’s met with Senkar’s snarky but still very relieved smirk, clearly grateful Cyrus is talking again. Cyrus’ instinct is to pull him in close for an all-encompassing hug, but the bonds looped around his arms and the back of the chair hold tight. “Plus,” Cyrus continues, “how can I appreciate your showboating if I can’t see you?”
“Showboating?” Senkar scoffs, raising the steel stiletto in his hand to eye level and expertly twirling it between his fingers. Cyrus is captured by every glint of light the blade catches in the dim room, riding that delicious line between sexy and dangerous. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not a show off.” After another impressive spin of the knife Senkar suddenly catches the hilt, tilting the blade back toward Cyrus and grinning at his reflexive shiver.
“All good to keep going, old man?”
“Yes, though if you call me an old man one more time you’re going to wish you had more than that little stiletto to defend yourself.”
Senkar presses the edge of the blade to Cyrus’ cheek again, but it’s just a light tap of the steel, a soft kiss against his skin far gentler than any from Senkar. It could hurt him so easily, just a fumble from Senkar and he could be bleeding out on the floor, but that risk just makes the gentle way it glides across his cheek that much sweeter.
Kinktober Day 2 - Ass Worship
Cyrus (Human)/Quinn (half-Elf)
It takes Cyrus most of the morning and a lot of annoyed groaning, but eventually he manages to roll himself out of bed and stumble downstairs. He’s greeted by the smell of fresh baked bread, and follows the enchanting aroma to the kitchen. Rounding the corner, he finds Quinn standing at the sink, humming one of Saxxon’s old songs and swaying to the beat.
Cyrus allows himself a moment to enjoy the sight - Quinn’s messy ponytail, the soft pants hanging low on his hips, the cute way he pushes his glasses back up his nose when they slip down - but it doesn’t take long for him to get impatient. Quinn is just too beautiful and too perfect - how can he be expected to keep his hands off him for very long?
“You’re up early,” Cyrus says, voice still husky with sleep. Quinn tilts his head to acknowledge him but doesn’t turn away from the dishes. “You make those fancy muffins too? The blueberry ones that Saxx and Teagan love?” Cyrus walks the handful of steps to slide his arms around Quinn’s waist, pressing a soft kiss to where he can reach on his neck.
“Saxxon looked a bit down last night so I wanted to make them something special,” Quinn says thoughtfully, tilting his head a bit more to briefly press his cheek to Cyrus’ in greeting. “And I’m not up early, you just sleep like you’re paid to do it.”
Cyrus can’t help a soft chuckle, remarking, “maybe if someone didn’t keep me up all night I wouldn’t be so tired,” and laughs again at Quinn’s clipped, “maybe someone shouldn’t take two hours to get someone else’s pants off.”
“Cut me some slack love, you look so damn sexy in these…” Cyrus’ hands drop to the loose waistband, tracing along the edge and making Quinn shiver. “Can’t blame me for wanting you to keep them on. You know I can get clothes off fast when it counts.”
“Can you?” Quinn teases, looking over his shoulder to give Cyrus a playful smirk. “I think the fastest was still about… twenty minutes, I believe.”
Cyrus snorts, mock offended as he grumbles, “Nothing wrong with taking your time with a man you love”. He frowns for a moment before a smile starts to tug his lips.
“Are you plotting something naughty?” Quinn says, eyebrow quirking in challenge.
“I should thank you for breakfast,” Cyrus rumbles, that husky edge to his voice now completely intentional instead of just from being tired. “Would that be… acceptable to you?” Cyrus’ hands slip carefully over the material of Quinn’s soft pants, brushing down his thighs and back up until Quinn sighs quietly.
“Yes, I don’t really feel appreciated for all the work I do in this house,” Quinn says, a touch breathlessly. He carefully sets down the dish he was washing so his hands are free to shadow Cyrus’, guiding them to rub softly at his inner thighs.
“I appreciate you so much babe,” Cyrus murmurs, pressing a line of kisses down Quinn’s neck, the fabric of his shirt, sinking lower until he’s on his knees. Quinn automatically moves to brace his hands on the counter, hips instinctively tilting up as Cyrus’s warm breath ghosts over the strip of exposed skin on his lower back. Cyrus makes a low, delighted noise as Quinn’s body falls into the familiar position, loving how second nature it is to offer his ass up for Cyrus’ appreciation. He brushes that sliver of skin at Quinn’s back before hooking his fingers in the hem of his pants, taking his time to tug it over the rise of Quinn’s ass.
As each inch is exposed, Cyrus pauses to press a wet kiss to the warm skin. Each pass of his lips makes Quinn shiver, gripping the edge of the counter tight even as the rest of his body relaxes under Cyrus’ touch. As soon as the hem of Quinn’s pants reach his thighs they drop away, too loose to stay up without a voluptuous ass in the way. Feeling Cyrus’ eager breath against his skin is so delicious, and Quinn is quick to tilt his hips up even more sharply - an irresistible offer.
After a low, appreciative groan Cyrus kneads his hands up Quinn’s thighs and over his hips to finally squeeze his ass. They both moan at the feeling, Cyrus immediately leaning in to drop hot, open-mouth kisses wherever his hands aren’t. His fingers press in firmly, massaging as much as simply appreciating, and coaxes soft whines of pleasure from the man above him. A particularly deep press into the muscle makes Quinn cry out, followed quickly by his gasped plea of “Cyrus, more”.
“Gotta give this beautiful ass the attention it deserves,” Cyrus growls, though it’s so excited it’s almost a purr. “Look at it... absolutely perfect. Could bounce a coin off this thing.” He gives it another hard squeeze until Quinn cries out again, arms starting to shake enough he has to cross them on the counter instead. “Just a little pink from where I was pounding against it last night…” Cyrus smirks into his kiss against the reddened skin, cutting off Quinn’s scoffed, “It barely hurts at all” with a light nip that provokes a much louder moan from Quinn.
“Cyrus, more,” Quinn says again, much more breathy this time. “I believe my ass has been properly worshiped. If you would please -“ He loses his words in a startled cry, arms so weak he has to pillow them underneath his head and lay his chest on the counter. Cyrus’ tongue laps again over his hole, drawing a long, wet line up from his perineum and back down again. It’s a slow torture, so hot and wet yet barely satisfying, and it isn’t long until Quinn breathes his “Cyrus“ again.
Knowing that tone means business, Cyrus teases the tip of his tongue at Quinn’s hole, pressing in just slightly before twirling around the rim again. Quinn breathes hard, rocking backward a bit to encourage Cyrus deeper, but his tongue just dances on the edge of unsatisfying. Insufferably patient, Cyrus slowly unravels his trembling half-Elf bit by bit until he’s a gasping puddle of goo under his skilled attentions. Every flick, every curl of his slick tongue makes Quinn moan for more, but it’s the reverent way Cyrus runs his hands over the curves of his ass that makes Quinn blush.
“Cyrus…” Quinn manages between harsh breaths. His voice is still wrecked, but it’s softer, less needy. The change in tone makes Cyrus pause, pulling away from his tongue’s eager teasing to press a kiss to the base of Quinn’s spine instead. “Did you… just want to appreciate my ass, sweetheart? You have an incredible tongue but if all you wanted was to worship on your knees for me…” Quinn tilts his head to look over his shoulder down at Cyrus, giving him a very hazy but genuine smile. Cyrus’ icy blue eyes are soft with his affection, making Quinn’s heart flutter happily in his chest.
“I want you to feel good and appreciated, love,” Cyrus murmurs simply. Even as he says it his hands start massaging up the backs of Quinn’s thighs to cup his ass, mirroring the half-Elf’s soft exhale as his fingers press in more firmly. “If you’d let me, I’d be the most pious soul you ever met - praying at this altar every waking moment of my day.” Quinn laughs, trying to imagine Cyrus in any religious context and quite unable to do so. His big rugged man, reserved and chaste?
“You are certainly devoted, I will give you that,” Quinn hums. “And you’ve never once disappointed me, my sweet angel… but I should still test your devotion. Perhaps you will demonstrate again how you would like to worship at my altar?”
A smile threatens to curl Cyrus’ lips but he bites it back, simply nodding as his hands slide so slowly over the reddened rise of Quinn’s ass and back down again, a careful knead of the muscle punctuated occasionally by a wet kiss. Quinn’s head falls back as he lets his eyes slip shut in pleasure, soft noises that are almost a whimper accompanying the new tremble in his legs. Cyrus’s voice is low, almost lost under Quinn’s higher-pitched cries.
“Anything for you Quinn, my heart, my soul, my life.”