[peachykindaok]

☆—peachy

☆—21

☆—fixations are dol

☆—writes the randomest and possibly worst scenarios

☆—ask box open ‘kay? Bye.

☆—DNI as a minor or a blank account, I swear to fuck I will eat you alive dude, DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT CREATING ANOTHER ACCOUNT AND FOLLOWING OR REBLOGGING BECAUSE I WILL KNOW RAHHHHH😭😭😭😡😡 YOU ARE NOT AS SMART AS YOU THINK YOU ARE!!!

[peachykindaok]

Quick Whitney design update that I don’t feel like finishing..🥲

[peachykindaok]

☆ KINKTOBER DAY 1; Incest…

CONTEXT; Traditional harassment.

TW; F!KylarxM!Whitney(no actual smut with F!PC), bullying, dub con, mentions of abuse, kinda angsty honestly.

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Halloween was Kylar’s favorite time of year.

The small joy of picking out a costume, getting all pretty even if it’s just for herself is one of the fondest memories she had as a kid and now? It was another one of those days being used to cater to Whitney’s sick deeds. He knows that she’s lonely and the only one pathetic enough to not care what it’s about. As long as he’s not hitting or insulting her, she’ll do anything.

She’s wearing your stolen costume, Whitney stating you were staying inside for the night since your friends were mostly grounded and his friends are idiots to appease any annoying concerns. He was already pissed at Kylar’s reluctance to wear it in the first place, sending her a nasty glare and flinching at her just to feel the satisfaction of making the skittish girl scramble with the fabric.

You decided to go as a witch this year, that oversized hat with a short black dress from his dreams and your wand poked his chest earlier as you playfully casted a fake spell on him that had him gritting his teeth. It may sag a little but to him it looks perfect. Kylar’s skin has been losing that ghostly appearance lately, those sad green eyes looking sharper since she’s been (forcefully) hanging around him. It’s easier to see you in her. Easier to get what he truly wants.

His blue eyes are always dark and blank in these moments once it’s on. No teasing or remarks about her appearance because he’d eat her raw and smothered or sweetened with syrup. He just pushes himself off the wall of the room to dump some ashes on the ground, embracing her quietly. It’s more intimidating this way as it would be easier to know if she were getting beat up or mocked but he always tells her to close her eyes; it’s a caring gesture that makes Kylar wonder if this is what he’d do to you if he grew the courage to push that moral boundary.

“I want to hear you…” He huffed out, the cigarette butt leaving a neatly sized burn on her lower back to get her head back on as she choked on her sounds at every dig of his member leaving a memorable shock of pleasure through her abdomen, “Louder.” His gruff voice strictly commending alone made a tinge of pleasure from a burst of heat, her once shy whimpers blooming into deeper moans as his hips angled down to witness her soft cunt sucking him in, not even caring about the creamy excess sticking to his blonde trail of hair.

Kylar had always sounded like you, those cracks in between the drawn out cries a trait you two share when you’re feeling so good but can’t explain it. Whitney hears it through those thin walls when you forget he’s home for once, every whimper being memorized closely as he talks you through it in his head. Every time he brings that thought with him when he can get a chance to seek out some resembling person to you.

His dark brown lashes lower to take in Kylar’s back, the hat being knocked off a long time ago from a small tussle to the creaky floor. Her hairstyle looking similar to yours when you’re asking his opinion for a night out. His favorite one. It looks fucking amazing…the blunt nails of his hand dig into her hair to tug her up, tongue lapping at the saccharin flesh of her body and his teeth linger longingly in hesitation over her skin. Kylar subtly held onto his poorly thrown together costume in a silent protest even though she would let him if he really wanted to because that’s how little she cared about consequences of whatever this was anymore.

It’s shameful to admit she likes it. That she’d be devastated if it ever stopped. To like the cheap watch against her skin when he forgets to take it off and how he unconsciously flexes when he thinks she’s looking at him. It’s so easy to forget that he’s thinking of you when he’s with her and Kylar used to think she had far more self respect than this; had she been so lonely that she’s just accepting any feeling of want from anyone? Her shaggy hair being tugged around, every time his rough palms press into the back of her neck and against the imprint poking out her stomach, the soft grunts he can’t control traveling out that had her brain mashed. Her heart flutters when his hands dip between her legs to use his two roughest fingers to apply stimulation to her already bruised bud, successfully washing out any doubts all over again.

“Does it feel good?” His voice sounds like it was made for her ears, her jolts must be not as noticeable when she’s arched like this because his arm hooks around her ribs to press her closer against him. Whitney’s heart seems in tune with hers, that red face full of an unsureness that she most likely is supposed to ignore.

“It…feels…good…” Kylar’s confirmation came between the tremble of her thighs and Whitney forcing the last inch into her just to be a reminder that only he makes her feel this way. Every unhinged thought in her head can be fucked out of her, he wants her to think a little more like you would at these times.

You’re a touch starved slut in your own right, those mindless touches to his back or lingering eyes in curiosity that feed into his delusions don’t go unnoticed by him. This is where the scenario usually falls apart, crumbling through his fingers and leaving him to stare at the remains in disgust because Kylar couldn’t be you even if she tries. This body isn’t yours, those needy green eyes that are expecting something more are being rejected by his body now that he’s thinking too much.

Damn…he’s getting soft. This is why he tells her to close her stupid eyes.

“I can’t cum if I’m looking at you…” He muttered harshly, almost making her cry when he shoves her head straight back into the musked up wood along with her romanticization of his constantly changing behavior. She tightens to appease him, knowing she messed up but she can fix his attraction again. Her voice reverts back to shuddered whimpers while hiding her chipped black nails that may have also been the culprit to his sudden loss in mood. Everything about herself is hidden for this, if this is all he wants then she can do it…

“Please…” ‘don’t pull out’ was what her voice wanted to croak out. Her huffy breath began to fade into cries; Some of pleasure, some of pain from her bruising nose, but she can’t think anymore. Kylar can’t come without looking at him. What she wants doesn’t exactly matter though since he finally grunted loud enough for a pull out to follow, his breath shallow enough for her to feel the regret seeping into his skin as he quickly fell back in his kneeling position.

His blonde head lolled, staring at the ceiling blankly to catch his breath before finding his fingers back in her, Whitney expertly pressing into the used pussy he accidentally made his. It’s a lazy quick fix to take responsibility for it, but in a minute or two she’s writhing and whining and creaming over his fingers like she would his cock. A scoff, wiping the mess on her body while standing up to ignore the mushy feeling that unwillingly took place in his stomach at the sight. It makes him uneasy to know she caused it.

“Take that off and I’ll take you home.” Whitney tossed her clothes back to her, knowing you’d want your costume back for ‘memories’ even though you probably took a min of thirty photos out and about on your own earlier. You were pretty selfish like that.

—

“It’s only 3AM. Were the bars closed?” You pick at him after opening the door wide enough for him to scan for any parent around; Whitney only entering when your shoes are the only ones he sees by the door. He places them next to yours, wishing it would stay like that for a long time from now.

Kylar wasn’t very talkative on the way to her house, which is the usual with her. He could train her to be a little more chatty…he already trained her to unconsciously open her legs whenever he looks at her long enough after all. You sometimes do that.

“Was out with a girl.” He confirms casually, just wanting the pleasure of your annoyed reaction since dad would beat you black and blue if you ever got a boyfriend. Your eyes went blank, half lidded and dull before you restart back with a more teasing smile to lure him into your presence unknowingly.

“Was she prettier than me?” You inquire carefully, looking up at him with batted lashes to make yourself cuter to him like you always did to hear the correct answer. You’re wearing a push up bra…he can spot it when you press your chest against him like this. It has polka dots. Whitney closes his eyes to ignore it.

‘You’re just playing around…I’m just a fucking creep.’, he reminds himself.

“No, of course not.” He rolls his eyes, plays it off by shoving you away gently and your whine makes him readjust his mental state as that urge he just rid himself of starts building up again.

“I knew so. You’ll never meet anyone that compares.” You laugh, but Whitney’s heart sinks at the ever unacceptable doom that may be the truth.

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A/N; It’s been so long since I wrote like full smut so if’s bad just ignore it. This is the day after the first but like I was busy :( I wrote this to focus on PC indirectly because I got too flustered imagining myself in the situation(which is how I usually write PC).

[peachykindaok]

☆—hand in hand…TW; F!Younger!Avery x F!PC, hyper sexualization, non con, unresolved trauma, internalized homophobia.

context; You’re Avery’s only friend.

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There’s something so naughty about holding hands with you.

Of course, she knows it’s mere handholding. That she’s done it plenty of times with older guys who promised her everything that she already had. But when you get closer and your fingers unconsciously lock with hers it’s so filthily romantic that it makes her forget that you’re both in some prestigious school where you laugh at people like her.

It’s stupid too. Obviously you don’t find it as hard to tug your hand away when spotting a cute pair of shoes on sale through the window at the mall or your heart doesn’t melt and muddle over sharing your lipgloss with Avery like hers does. The way your hands rake ‘lovingly’ through fluffy layers to make sure she’s not cramping your style at a party you both agreed to sneak out to, that you don’t know when she asks how she looks that it’s not out of concern for anybody’s eyes but yours.

Avery’s sure you don’t know she’s a freak who justifies her fingers trailing over herself while lying in your bed, almost horrified that merely being in your space is enough to cause her head to get hazy. Has displayed her weakest moments around you, imagining what good your hands are for other than playing pc games. That soft tongue lapping over ice cream cones, lower back exposed by fold over flared yoga pants, the way your neck stretched to smell test sample perfumes.

Why does she keep imagining stupid scenarios with you? That small inkling of hope that when you cage her in to force her to tell you something that you’d keep her there for longer- to make her scream it. When you lean over her shoulder to look at her work, do you notice her push up her chest for you? The way her heart flutters when you casually sit your head between her thighs; she hopes you can’t tell when she’s that unusually shifty and her subtle movements to get some kind of stimulation from you unknowingly.

Why couldn’t she be normal again? Why’re you making her act so dirty?

Her thoughts were ruined at the puppy thumping against the glass, the pet store smelling cleaner than usual and she suspects it’s because it was recently used for the mayor’s daughter to do some promotion thing she mindlessly watched. The puppy looked lonely, almost reflecting the thin girl in a sense as she presses her hand longingly against the plastic cover that contained it. It has friends it seems. But the puppy seemed to long for a more intimate human contact that only certain people could provide.

Avery sighs. And as she turns away in order to follow after you again, she’s caught off guard when seeing you hold onto a leash and collar while jokingly smiling at her.

“What’s wrong? You wanna take its place?” You mockingly nudge her while swinging around the leash, unknowingly making her consider the nefarious consequences of being used as a lapdog for your amusement.

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[peachykindaok]

My lighter came!!😭💕 it’s so cute!

[peachykindaok]

☆—filthy…TW; Fem!PC x M!Wren, age/role swap, degradation, mentions of abuse.

Context; Wren’s chipped tooth.

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Wren keeps licking at his chipped tooth.

It’s tucked in a safe space on the bottom row in the back of his mouth nestled in between a cavity riddled one from taste testing Sam’s new recipes and a slightly yellowed one from his hesitation to push his toothbrush that far in his mouth. He gained it from being his usual slick mouthed self when your name is mentioned amongst the streets at random by the freaks that still have evidence of your existence there.

You tell him to stop. But how could he?

They don’t know you like he does. They never even tried to see beyond your body like he’s gotten the chance to, yet those cumrags are saying whatever fits their narrative of a younger you surviving in your circumstances. Even his classmates have said a few things, especially Remy who he’s gotten into a few scuffles with alone for spitting some choice words after school about what you’re ‘good for’. Wren doesn’t think you’re bad for him like they all think, they don’t know you like he does.

He wishes it would stop…and you wish he would stop.

“I told you to stop licking the damn thing before you accidentally infect it..” You scold roughly as you huff smoke through your nose, the nineteen year old quickly pulling the tip of his tongue away from the familiar spot with a stubborn huff of his own.

The dirty blonde is back after another bang in with his parents; your small and shaggy adobe far more comfortable to hang around in than the habitat those old bags confine him to. His fresh bandages still sting, yet he feels like he’s been trained for the subtle pain to turn him on when your tits are right there as a nice distraction. God…why can’t he just sit here with you forever?

“I told you to stop worrying over me. You don’t have to play pretend…” His soft protest slowing to a mutter when you put out the cigarette to come closer to him. Obviously you weren’t going to hurt him but it doesn’t stop the skip in his heart from the previous experiences of silent authority approaching never ending well.

“Relax.” You remind him in your usually strict way that’s enough to keep the tense shoulders slumped, brushing his hair back with a dissatisfied expression at his overall condition. You can’t tell if he’s beat up worse from home or school at this point…,”Who got you this bad?”

Those green eyes advert to conjure up some lie but his cock told him to tell the truth since he knows nothing turns you off faster than a lying man and Wren was already planning to use his half beaten state to try his hand at some extra love before going back to that bleak town of his.

“Dad. He found out I got suspended again…” He whispered, careful not to move even as you lightly poke at some nasty looking bruises along his back; each one making you more surprised you don’t have to take him to his weird friend Harper who’s still questionable in his intentions as a medical student. Your eyes roll in the frustration that comes with dealing with a person who you semi love that only causes themself to be in harms way. He keeps fighting for you, getting suspended, and in turn getting beaten and you don’t understand why. If people say stupid things about, it’s whatever; you don’t even live in the damn town anymore for godsake.

“I told you hiding here wasn’t going to work forever..”

“How was I supposed to know the headmaster was going to report me to the police of all people? Why do they care so much if someone doesn’t go to that crappy school? If they can see me in the street then they know I’m not dead.” His argument is as simple as his mind works and you feel like chipping another tooth in his mouth for it.

Instead you sit beside him after taking a deep breath; watching him side eye you reluctantly before moving to meet you halfway when he starts to see that look in your eyes. Wren’s not being stubborn, he’s not.

“I don’t want you fighting anymore. I know you have your feelings about me but those people obviously don’t want to know about me like you do, okay?” Your voice is bland in a genuine way that’s so you. It makes him flustered so his hands shyly reach out to hold onto yours to ground himself in the midst of his wild raging head. Everything feels so much more real…he would never find another you so he wants to experience you as much as he can until he can’t anymore. This is true love, right?? He’s doing something right for you to love him, why doesn’t he get to show you how much he loves you?

His blazing red face feels even hotter while watching your lips move, your fingers moving to intertwine his softer than any girl at his school does. He’s an adult now. Grown a few inches above and below from his last growth spurt when you two met. Gained more street smarts than common sense but he’s becoming slick like you like them. You’re so pretty…he loves you…

“If I say yes, would you have sex with me?” He blurts out abruptly in the middle of your light scolding, his heartbeat in his throat while he trembles in your hands like always as if attempting to stop himself from melting like putty at admitting his love like this…through the only way he knows how. You sigh quietly, not expecting much else from this filthy loser.

He’s only a few houses down from the rest…

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A/N; I wrote a short blurb about this on AO3(which I no longer use) like a year ago so I thought I should extend the idea a bit. I usually don’t like writing about dark angst but I made an exception for this.

[peachykindaok]

☆—cologne…TW; fem!PC x M!Whitney, incest, scent kink.

Context; Something was wanted and something was had.

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“Was it bad?”

You huff in annoyance at the sleazy question, not able to deny such a claim as you kick off your heels and turn your head to the lingering man you give a soft sneer to. You hate a lot of things about your life but one thing you hate the most is that subtly smug look on Whitney’s face when you get home from a bad date. He warned you beforehand that a guy with frosted tips would be ‘the wrong tree’ for you to piss on and you being you were determined to force it to work in order to not see it…but you never knew sex could become annoying with the wrong person.

“He’s a good guy..” You mutter stubbornly as you toss off the heels and land face first onto his bed like usual; too soon to miss that smirk fall into a flat look at your defense against him. Whitney knew this guy wasn’t going nowhere so he didn’t even feel like finding him to scare him off…but it doesn’t mean he wants you defending that goofball like he meant something to you.

“Not good enough for a second one though..” He mocks, flopping in a similar fashion next to you on his side so hazardously that your eyes widen to make sure you didn’t hear anything break again. This wooden bed frame couldn’t take much more than it already does every weekend…

“Stop doing that! If it breaks again I’m not buying the tape.” The scolding only makes the blonde bastard roll his eyes, leaning over to smother you and your brows furrow when you smell the cologne you complimented him on a long time ago. He never wears it because it was ‘too expensive for a one night pull’ but he always wears it when he’s wanting something from you. It’s almost like a cheat code at times so it doesn’t explain why he’s suddenly wearing it at 6PM on a Friday.

“I’ll buy the tape this time…” He mutters half heartedly yet fully serious as his teeth cup your neck instinctively, Whitney’s eyes almost blank as he gives a ghost of a mark to your body. You were gone for only five hours, his gaze was still glued to your dress when you left earlier. How could you want a wet diaper like him when Whitney’s here for you? He’s bitter. Angry. A little sense of betrayal hidden in it with the thought of revenge lingering over everything.

His heart thumps louder when his arms wraps around you, leaning onto you without a care in his world other than you. His sister who’s still learning so many things…Whitney’s large hand reaches under your stomach, biting the back of your neck while ignoring your familiar squirms. Consuming, controlling…his teeth is addicted to the soft skin you own. That perfume you only wear when getting his attention is so sickly sometimes, total package of hard candied bad karma that tastes of caramel and any other kind of tempting flavor that only manages to attract idiotic big brothers like him…

“Do you want something…?” Your breathless tone ringing out from under him is the only thing that manages to make him realize who he’s actually contemplating eating alive right now and he sighs deeply; rolling onto his back as he stares blankly at the ceiling to scold himself in his own head about those thoughts that could get him killed.

“No.”

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A/N; if this is wonky, sorry, wine 💔💕

[peachykindaok]

Obsessed with @moneyonahole pc Esther lately.

[peachykindaok]

IT FOLLOWED ME!!

[peachykindaok]

☆—married guy…TW; touches on the effect of grooming, cheating, kinda angst, PC and Avery are garbage people, ALT verse(in which Robin is the adoptive child of Avery).

A/N; short blabber

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You’re messing around with some married guy that’s twice your age. So what? You weren’t seduced by him- it was the money. Right. You wanted the money.

Those hands holding onto your waist that made you feel so fragile didn’t mean anything. That stupid flutter in your insides when he’s the first face you see when looking up as you stand soaked in rain was just a coincidence. Those long nights at a hotel drinking both of your problems away with a good laugh, both of your phones on do not disturb when he comes closer to give you those passionate kisses. Nothing.

He told you that before you were allowed to step into his home after your longtime friend invited you over. Both of you were standing stun locked when the sunny ginger shouted a cheery ‘hi dad!’, not even noticing the drop in atmosphere as he walked past and began to speak about his day like normal. Avery had a shimmer of fiery anger hidden in a vein as he gave you a threatening gaze while dumping info on you as he pretends to show you where to sit your shoes as you already knew. The only thing that was new was the homey family made atmosphere instead of the usual cut and dry sleek interior.

This is the first time he’s looked…panicked. He knows he’s caught up by an unlucky acquaintance. He just so happened to start an affair with the childhood friend of a kid he adopted ten years ago. How fucking lucky is he. He takes a deep breath; introducing you to his wife and makes sure to not act on instinct with his usual possessive grips.

His wife has the audacity to be a sweetheart. Made you seem like the bitter hag in comparison as your eyes narrow at her every time her eyes close with that beautiful smile. Why? It’s an irritating feeling of jealousy and a shameful pride that follows it when you realize that you could ruin her life right here if you wanted to. That face would look rotten with grief if you told her how much Avery splurges on you every week, if you explained that the asshole standing beside you and not her let’s you sit on it before and after school.

But, you give a small smile instead. You’re well trained by Avery; much more restrained by the side you’re shown when you’re around. He smiles so brightly like her and it’s so annoying how hard it is to tell what’s real. Sadly, you know what is real. That diamond on her finger is one of the same kinds that you see when you’re shopping with Avery. Those pictures on the wall that were far easier to ignore when your head is buried in Avery’s crotch. Your friend obviously has love for his adoptive mother and father, you feel angry that you can finally put faces to the experiences he shared with you.

He’s just some married guy. Why’re you so angry?

[peachykindaok]

☆—desire, devour, delicious…TW; aged up!Sydney 4 F!PC, bondage, denial, slight degradation, fake dom Syd.

—context; short blurb about Sydney because he’s been firing me up lately.

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“Well, what’s a good ‘D’ word that you know..?” Sydney gently scratched his head with the eraser of a pencil, tilting his head as a gentle sigh leaves his lips just to feel your hips twitch up towards his mouth in that needy way that had him feeling as cocky as ever. He made sure to tie your thighs back tighter this time yet you still wrangle around in what little way you can as if your body is screaming for him…you can wait a bit longer.

“Tell me…” He gently pecks your clit, running his tongue through as his cheeks flush out at that taste he’s so obsessed with; testing his own self restraint when eyeing that tremble in your thighs he wanted to bury his head between,”Hurry up so I can taste you…”

“Try….d-desire…” Sydney rests his chin on your pelvic area with a hum at your answer, the fact that you can’t even tell if he’s lying or not because you can’t see and blindly trusting his words makes his hips rut into the bed. But he’s an honest guy as he sticks to the game by giving a quick slap to your ass with a displeased huff at his own frustration building.

“Desire…doesn’t fit.” He wishes it did though. Would’ve been perfect for the moment. No doubt he’d see it written in those pretty eyes if he removed the blindfold. The blonde ponders after brushing his hair back with his fingers while the other goes to rub the pad of his thumb against you so you’re reminded why you’re doing this. You’ve always been a little scramble brained when it comes to this kind of stuff.

“De…vour…?” You cut into his thoughts, a shy offer of your own spilling out but he only smiled in the act of putting his glasses off to the side as his hands travel over you.

“You’re such a silly girl. If I just said desire wasn’t right, why would you guess one that’s the exact same in length..?” He laughs softly before giving a even harsher spank to add to your collection of marks, biting into your thigh which causes a high pitched noise to release from your lips. He traces his lips back down, tracing, kissing, his tongue leaving a nice strips over you that has your hole twitching in need. So cute.

“Let’s try…D…E…L…I…” His cloudy eyes watch you closely, literally spelling it out for you as his tongue piercing dances around you in a mocking way that’s so him; it’s painful. You try not to squirm and to not scream, you know he can’t stand having to tame a brat but he’s been dragging this out for so long that you feel the sheets getting sticky.

You know he wants you too…his tongue keeps dipping down even more and you can tell that ‘restraint’ is cracking each time he tries to tease you. The shuffling of the sheets is a familiar sound as he seems to forget about the game all together, slipping in you causing that little persona of his to complete collapse when a soft moan leaves his lips at finally getting your taste. What a desperate top…he sucks at it.

“What’s the point of being the top if you’re not going to stay the top?” You chastise him since this was his idea. You’re starting to think he just wanted an excuse to eat at you undisturbed. Either way, you’re brows furrow at the greediness you’re used to with him by now as your bound hands reach down to tug on the head that was once pitch black; that pleased groan being followed by a sweeter sound of your own.

“Delicious. The last word was delicious, by the way…” Sydney murmurs against you, fully gripping your hips to finally enjoy you how he feels he deserves.

————————————☆———————————

A/N; I forgot to do an assignment that was split into five parts throughout the week because of my job needing me for five days straight and my A dropped to a D…pls shoot me.

[drain-purge-purify]

Daisy the Heifer... I really like her, I should talk about her more.🐄

[peachykindaok]

Lore accurate Kylar

[peachykindaok]

☆—ink…or whatever…M!TATTOOARTIST!Whitney

TW; rambling idea about aged up Whitney that’s not well orchestrated…sorry.

—Whitney always thought it was satisfying when he gave people tattoos. Not because it shows off some of his learned and natural skill, but because he thinks the entire experience is just begging for a porn scene to be made of it. Some of that shit beats some of the newest amateurs out today, the sole reasons he began wearing baggier pants during sessions.

It’s all so sweet, an innocently sexy thing that shouldn’t make him that down bad but it’s almost therapeutic. His low voice speaking in a mocking way that isn’t caught onto by the people feeling too nervous. His hands wandering on smoothed, freshly shaved skin as he touches places he might not have to but they don’t exactly seem to be opposed to his gloved fingers dipping into places. Whitney especially loves when he gets to tat up some interesting spots; the soft gasps, the squeezing of the faux leather seat, the cute pleading eyes they give him when he’s barely at the midway point…he has a hard time not saying something that could give them a peek into his own little brain full of carnality.

His own instincts are telling him to take advantage of the laxed position of more experienced clients by sitting his hand around their neck and finally getting to mark up their skin in a different way. He wants that scenario of them knowing what they want; he knows he would show them something other than that art book when he’s glazing the newly tatted ass properly instead of just getting in a few squeezes. In his head he’s actually just sloppily fucking the mouth of the client who’s attempting to show him that poorly drawn reference and knowing they’re unaware that they’re getting creamed in his head makes him able to endure that torture a bit longer.

Of course some do allow for something more, if they’re not a pussy. He appreciates a gentle rubbing over him as they curiously rock their hips against his fingers; him pausing every once in awhile to give them a passionate kiss, his tongue lapping over theirs eagerly as he moves the tools away for the moment. Whitney thinks of those moments where he can quickly slip it in on a particularly slow day as the noises and quick movements are allowed to be slower and deeper with him able to really feel every inch with more control. And yes, receiving head in his car after an appointment does count as a proper token of gratitude.

[fraternum-momentum]

based on @peachykindaok 's post that you can find here !

[peachykindaok]

HOLY SHIT???

[peachykindaok]

☆ cum + mouth w/ randomly assorted M!dol…;

☆ Niki will be a hard one to even get into it. He’s not small but definitely not the biggest ever either…or maybe it’s because he’s merely sporting a half chub right now with you mindlessly suckling on him from under the desk between his shamelessly spread legs. He doesn’t blush, only huffing every once in awhile as he pats your head, the sign you’re making him feel something amongst the clicking of the mouse as he edits. It’s neat work. His patience admirable when you take notice of his nose scrunching just a bit as you teasingly slide your tongue under his foreskin, a muffled moan sounding from your throat when he grips your hair to tug you forward; a series of breathless huffs leaving his lips while he finally looks down at you as his non responsive half hardened cock finally gives you that sweet and salty taste you desired, both of you staring at each other as he mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’.

☆ Robin’s sweeter about it, chest bumping a little when you give an experimental lick over him. He’s a cute little mouthful that’s twitching all over the place while trying to keep it down by biting his hand; not even able to look down in case he explodes right then, but even then he shuts his eyes to prevent an embarrassing fate. He’s so easily flustered, insists on holding your hand with his free one while the hot feeling of such a mouth on him has him feeling like he’s never been touched right before. You try to take it easy on him, sticking to gentle rubs of your tongue and a light handjob but even that has him whining about it being too much, moving to push your head away as he cracks out a light whimper in a stuttering stupor as he spills his precious ropes onto himself instead of your mouth; you only giving an annoyed glare at the waste of work…

☆ Sam deserves love too, okay?? I need a good chunky boy in my life. He’s bigger than you expected, a good tilt in it that you use to hook it in your cheek for support when your tongue moves over his tip. He’s not forceful, handing out lots of praises of your magic muscle; his thumbs curiously digging into the inside of your cheeks just so you could look up at him like some cock whore as you can’t decide when to let your drooly little lips get a break. He doesn’t like tugging or shoving; merely rubbing the tip of him over your parted mouth whenever you needed to catch your breath, furiously jerking off to just watch the way your pupils dilate as you sit so impatient yet pliant. He does, however, encourage you to entertain his balls; giving a deep grumble as you sloppily french kiss his sack with some needy whines. His load comes endlessly, holding your head by your neck as you open wide for him; your heart fluttering slightly when he gently pats your head.

Bye-☆

[peachykindaok]

It’s been awhile….let’s get straight to it. TW; drugs, dark, non-con (duh), Kylar’s really scummy but I like scummy :)

☆ I saw a post on twitter about this guy spreading coke on his gums because he thought it’d make a girl addicted to him and that was very much Kylar coded.

☆ Kylar would definitely drug you at any given chance, snapped or not.

☆ Kylar is the type of guy that convinces you to let him hold your drink at a party after watching you all night so he could stick three roofies in it- just to be ‘safe’. He even helps you try to find the guy who did it the day after with a knowing smile, taking full opportunity to spend more time with you.

☆ Kylar would feed you edibles disguised as a cute treat before class for the hell of it, watching your spaced out expression as he corners your seat by the window and happily gives lazy rubs across your slit while filling out both of your worksheets.

☆ Kylar is thrilled to find that xanax zombies you the fuck out, he himself even a little scared when you completely slump against the bed and debates actually taking you to the hospital…but not before a grope or two just to make sure.

☆ Kylar contemplates some harder material but isn’t looking forward to actually killing you anytime soon(that’s literally the only thing stopping him).

☆ Kylar eventually convinces you to try some stuff that he refuses to say how, when, or where he got it; his eyes watches carefully as you strip it on your tongue and the effects lasts long enough for him to be not so careful with your body as he roughly thrusts inside of you, hunched over with his face smothered in your neck to muffle the soft, huffy sounds that leave his lips.

☆ Kylar sometimes imagines that you know he does these things, a false hope that one day you’d be into his delusional fantasies about just getting blasted and sloppily making out in the middle of the park or something. He jerks off to the thought of it.

☆ Kylar is a literal criminal, he doesn’t care about the consequences of the hundreds of pictures downloaded to his laptop of his multiple findings and ‘experiments’ with you. All types of angles of your body and face, whether you’re completely faded or just nearing so, he just doesn’t care(it’s also good jerk it material when you’re surrounded by too many LI’s for that day).

Bye-☆