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The Games (Fics), Stakes In This Casino (General TW & Fandoms), Place A Bet(Requests/Commissions)
Events! Kinktober + Goretober
First and foremost
I am Rxd (Red), 18+ I'm the owner of this casino and I am here to make sure you enjoy my games (writing). The casino also has a darker side, the @nxghtmarket for those who are more twisted and want to bet more than colourful chips
Now, formalities out of the way on with the house rules:
🃏DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES USE MY WORK FOR AI, WRITING IS MY PASSION AND I PUT MY SOUL INTO EVERY WORD, DO NOT SHOVE IT INTO A MACHINE AND DRAIN IT OF ME
♧Do not argue with the house; in this domain, the house has the final say
♢Do not argue with other patrons; they're here to have fun not have their mood spoiled
♡If you want to inquire about me or nxght or something else feel free! We are always happy to answer any questions; you may place a bet and wait for our answer. However, do not place bets just to trauma dump, vent or complain, there is no tolerance for that
♤You must be at least 18 years old to enter the casino, any patrons that do not have their age clearly stated will be banned, NO EXCEPTIONS AND NO APPEALS
♧Be civil, do not rush the house, do not complain about updates and do not complain if you do not like the games. You chose to ignore the stakes and you've lost, suck it up and move on
Stakes: Mentions of drinking, first time, PIV sex, cunnilingus, minimal aftercare, brief mention of self harm, she/her pronouns
Rxd's Notes: My first commission and it's from a dear friend! Love you <3 (Now I'm hooked on the game!) SPOILERS for Leander's route at the end of demo :PP
Game length: 4.3k
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
The stools stand so close to each other that their knees brush against one another. Subtle intimacy kept under the table. Leander's arm resting on the bar's counter moves close, fingers gently brushing over her cloak. Wanting nothing more than to feel the skin underneath. Every one of his honey-sweet words draws eyes to the pair, Adders eyeing their leader and the one he sits with. "You're no roach, the others at the bar though..." He trails off, and so do his eyes. Glancing back at the exit as Ais is leaving with the lowlife in tow.
Once she looks back, he's already looking at her. A stunning, sickening, pale green. "I'll keep a better eye on you." His smile is so warm, she feels like she's falling. "You deserve to see everything great that Eridia has to offer, Silas." "I'd like that." Not a single thought can form in her head, just the thought of good days and amazing ANYTHING is almost impossible, yet he gives her that. As if he- "You would? Then how would you feel being on a leash?" She's dead, right? This is heaven? But her body feels like hell.
A choked, baffled laugh escapes her, but those eyes hold true. "Just kidding!" A familiar grin spreading across his face. "Vere's the only one on a leash here." Her gaze drops with an amused laugh, though his eyes linger on her. Leander brought talk of food up, probably trying to salvage the Wet Wick's horrendous, barely edible tree bark of "appetizers". Once she mentions fried dough sticks, he immediately offers rosewater porridge. He might as well buy her a fancy home and a horse.
Tang of guilt stirs in her. "Or I could earn some money and buy it for you." Eyes meet once more. "Y'know... for the inn and everything." His brows raise before his eyes squint ever so slightly. "You don't owe me anything, Silas. Giving you a place to sleep is basic human decency." He turns on his stool to face her. "If there's anything I can do to keep you safe, I'll do it in a heartbeat." The words are so sweet, sweet enough to make her teeth tingle. How can he offer a delicacy back to back to back?
Silas searches his eyes, but he means every word. Every breath. As if doubt were a foreign concept to him, he ponders, "Is there something on my face?". Her gaze drops as she sighs. "I wish..." Amusement tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Oh? What were you looking for then?" He leans in, playful. "Honesty... Whatever the hell that could look like." His smile drops, voice getting ever so slightly quieter, warmer. "You don't believe me, Silas?" She considers her words briefly. "It's just... It's just you're saying all the right words."
Her lips stiffen, teeth chewing on her inner lip as she squeezes her hands for comfort. "Maybe I'm just skeptical that a person like you could exist. Someone willing to give and keep giving." Leander glances down at his bottle of rum, swirling it around and picking his words carefully. She hears a clink as he sets it down behind her. His hand on her knee, he gently pulls her to face him; it then moves to take her hand.
Green eyes once again meet her purple. Gently, he gives her hand a squeeze before speaking. "I can't change what happened in your past, Silas. I would if I could. Believe me." She wants to believe him, so fucking bad. "But you're here now, and I'll do my best to help you." A sheepish look settles on his face. "I'm grateful you're even giving me a chance!" Another soft squeeze draws her eyes down. Yesterday, she remembers how her heart raced, skin on skin, fingertips tracing the contours of his hand.
The sensation was unforgettable; everything tingled once it was over. A wave of melancholy washed over her, self-hatred crawled its way out of the pit in her stomach and up her throat. "If you've seen the things I've done... you might feel differently." Absentmindedly she rubs his knuckles through the gloves. Lingering on what's under those white binds. Leander lifts her chin with the crook of his finger, their faces so close they could share a breath. Her eyes cannot rip away from his.
Another squeeze, the leather now feeling rough and suffocating. "You're not dangerous, Silas. Trust me." Like a snare, she's hooked on his words. Trapped in his scalding, passionate embrace, it hurts. Borderline burns. A brilliant green gazing through lush eyelashes. Proximity undeniable, hand in hand, his hand under her chin. A single motion, and they'll collide— A flush blooms on his face once he notices the eyes on them both.
With a loud clearing of his throat, he's leaning back as the warmth of his hands leaves her. "We'll maybe a little dangerous, my manners disappear around you!" He rubs his neck. "You can really capture my attention." Now the blush blooms on Silas' face as she lets out a small cough and focuses on the bar counter instead. "Likewise, I wanted to talk to you again." As his attention shifts back to her, Leander's blush dissipates. "I wanted to talk to you as well."
Silas glances at the Adders chugging down drinks before speaking. "Is it okay that you're spending so much time with me? Do you have work with the Adderstone? Y'know, patching leaky roofs?" Leander smiles before answering. "You came at the right time, actually. There's always work to get done, but some days are slower than others. Tonight's definitely a slow night." Her fingertips found her cloak. "Sorry I kind of crashed your party, I didn't know you all knew each other." He smiled brightly. "I had no idea you've met them! How'd you manage that all in a day?"
"It just kind of happened, I guess. Like a whirlwind." Something flashes in Leander's eyes. "I'm kinda jealous. A part of me wants you all to myself." He shoots her a wink. "For your safety, of course." What a save. "They all might seem nice, but half are monsters and the other have their flaws." "You must know them really well, then." "More than they realize, got anyone on your mind you'd like to know more about?"
Something about the way he talked about others, starting off neutral and then planting doubt. Before she could ask, he enquires first. "Have you kept our little secret?" Her eyes narrow, searching for something. "Our secret?" He gives his fingers a little wiggle— Oh, that! "Only you know." As if the sun hugged him, he smiled so brightly. Beaming with happiness and, maybe, pride. Something that only those two share.
Butterflies take flight in her stomach— the feeling's so intense she feels nauseous. "I'm relieved to hear that! By the way, let me know if you have some time to talk privately. I've already gathered some relevant information that you might be interested in." Without skipping a beat, she blurts out. "I'm not busy!" He smiles "Perfect." "What did you manage to find? How did you manage it so fast?" "What can I say? I live to serve." He does a once-over the entire bar before leaning in. "I'll tell you the details, but not here; too many prying ears." She stands up after him. "Shall we head upstairs?" and she answers with an eager "Yes!" Unable to contain her excitement.
"After you." The walk up the steps brings clarity to her mind. Embarrassment creeps as she looks around the small, dark box that her inn room is, the unmade bed from which she crawled off. Just her and him. Alone. In the dark. Her mind wanders, but not for long. A click of the lock quickens her heartbeat. "Peace and quiet." The loud chatter barely seeps through the floor, and the suspicious thumping a few doors down says otherwise. With a graceful flick of Leander's fingers, all the candles spark alight. Making his way to the bed and plopping on it with a sigh.
Her mind races as she awkwardly lingers by the door. The yearning for his touch, the thoughts that come with proximity. Noticing her awkward demeanour, he asks, "Is something wrong?" Pulled from her thoughts, she stutters out. "N-No! Nothing's wrong!" Her hands waving and panic rising in her. Leander's eyes narrowing on her face, taking in her expression. "You seem uncomfortable." Words stuck in her throat as Leander was thinking over the situation. Snapping the silence with a click of his tongue.
"Shit, I'm so inconsiderate, aren't I? This is your private space and I shouldn't be barging in like this." Panic unclogs her throat. "No! That's not-" Guilty eyes look up at her. "I'm sorry, Silas. You've been through so much these couple of days, let's talk about this tomorrow." Leander leans forward as he gets ready to get up. "You should rest." Her breath hitches. No! Not when the answer is on the tip of his tongue, not when the cure, or at least the possibility of it, is a few words away!
With swift steps, her hands land on his shoulders and firmly reseat him. The proximity is suffocating as his wide eyes stare up at her. What now?! He is sitting back down; what now?! The first words that come to mind spill out. "Don't leave. Please!" desperation lacing every word. "Silas... You're afraid." Is she? Is she desperate? Is she in pain? Is she loving every second? She can't tell anymore. In fight or flight, she always fights— yet her hands want to pull away. His hands catch her wrists. With a smile, he guides her hands back onto his shoulder. Her legs between his.
"I won't leave you, Silas." Fuck... FUCK! The air is hot and heavy— she can't take a breath. Words as thick and sweet as honey, sticking every thought together into an incomprehensible mess. It feels like a lie, all of it. A sweet-looking apple that's hollow on the inside. It stings her eyes; she wants every word he says to be true. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she asks for a covenant. "Do you promise?" He answers fast. "I promise." As if doubting the contract he signed before her. "What if I am paranoid about you being nice to me?" Tears prick her eyes, throat feeling tight.
"Then I'll keep being nice to you until you believe it." He seals the deal with a wax stamp as he promises. "I won't leave you, and you won't leave me." As if seeing her disconnection, he gently rubs circles on her wrists. Keeping her from flying away from him. "You're strong, Silas. I've never seen a curse like yours, yet you still rise above it. The way you're able to contain it..." His gaze wanders. "It's fascinating, and well, I- it's a bit embarrassing..." A blush creeps up on his face as his voice turns into a whisper.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you since I met you." Everything in her mind broke. What..? Her body heated up again, she wants to run. "What... did you say?" As if Leander were a little boy caught stealing candy. "Whaaaat? Who said that? Nothing! I mean— No one!" He tries to laugh off the embarrassment. "Just forget I said anything! I mean- who said that? I didn't say anything!" She must actually be dead, and this is heaven, or maybe hell. What is up and what is down anymore?
Silas is like ten steps behind, yet Leander keeps walking. "I might be getting carried away with this. Not every day I find something that challenges me." His gaze meets hers again. "But I'll do everything on your terms, at your pace. Anything you want." He's going to kill her. As if he can sense what she wants, what is written all over her face. It's clear he wants it too. All restraints snap. "I want to touch your face." Not expecting that, Leander's gaze quickly looks elsewhere. "Oh! You're more forward than I thought you'd be." Guilt creeping from her stomach once more.
"Is, is that okay?" More doubts creep up, but they're cast away by warm, yearning green eyes and a "It's better than okay, Silas." He takes her hands in his. An unknowing smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. He keeps saying her name; it's driving her crazy. A playful side peeks out. "Hurry up then!" Her smile bright, brighter than he'd ever seen it be. "Your wish is my command, Silas." She'll die here. Unwrapping her hands like unwrapping a present, a gift for both of them.
He steals glances from her every so often as he frees her hands. The bandages are put aside as he looks up expectedly. The drum of her heart is loud in her ears, in her head. Pads of her fingers trace the edge of his jaw, feeling him swallow, feeling him tense. His heart beat right under her pinky finger. She lets her palm rest on his cheek. It's warm, so warm. Feeling playful, Leander questions, "Well? Are you enjoying yourself?" Her thumb brushes over the raised keloid scar on his cheek, and he laughs.
Leander's whole body shudders as he laughs a little. His earring cold against the back of her hand. "Haha! That tickles!" She takes in his smiling face. "Yes, I'm enjoying myself." Too much, this is all too much. The way her name rolls off his tongue, her feeling his skin, his face. Her hands move lover, one settles on the side of his throat, the other lingers by his mouth. Gently, she swipes her thumb over his bottom lip. The room feels stuffy now. Clothes too restricting, tingling in the most intimate parts.
Leander's eyes spark with desire, passion— hunger. It burns. Everything shifts to something darker, something more personal, spiritual, maybe. His voice dark now, coaxing out an answer. "What else do you want?" She wants more. "I-" "I want more too, Silas." She wants this, craves this. Needs this, or she'll die. They're already alone, the door's locked. It's dark besides the pale moonlight and sconces. All she needs to do is just push him down. She's frozen, as if waiting for this cotton in her head to go.
He leans forward, he can feel her quick breaths. She can't take it anymore! Patience wears thin with proximity; and finally, finally she chooses fight. Chooses action. Her lips crash into his as if wanting the same he pulls her close by her waist. A primal feeling takes over, her kiss turns into a bite as she nips at his lips. The hold on his face turns tight. "I want you so bad." She cries it or whimpers it, maybe begs it. It's not clear anymore. "I want you, Silas." He'll kill her. Hands leave his face and brace against his chest before he's pushed backward.
The bed answers with squeaks as Silas straddles Leander. Her cursed hands find his face once more, shaking ever so slightly. Her swallow earring swinging as she hovers over Leander. His hands find her face, he runs a thumb over the scars on her lips. "You're beautiful." He's lying! He isn't! He means every damned word, and somehow it hurts more! Everything in her body screams to run, but her heart wants more. "More... please..." It's barely a whisper from her lips. Leander simply smiles and pulls her into a kiss. Her silver earring cold against his cheek.
Silas can taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue, it's strong and leaves an uncomfortable taste in her mouth. It's the least of her worries. She didn't think it would get this far, as if tracking a moose and then having no earthly idea what to do now as it stares back at her. His arms wrap around her and he rolls them over. Now he's hovering above her. Hands on either side of her, his knee between her legs. Air hangs thick, wet, hot. Leander pulls off her cloak, and everything sinks in.
She's never done this. Not even ever remotely anything close to this. Excitement fizzles out like a match in water; embarrassment sets in for nth time today— it twists her stomach uncomfortably. Sensing the mood change, Leander's face was full of concern. "Something wrong, Silas? Is this too much?" Chewing on her lip briefly. "I... I've never done this before..." He gives a small chuckle and a reassuring smile. "I could tell by your kiss." Her face flushes and hands shoot up to cover her humiliation.
Leander laughs more at this, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on each of her knuckles. Warmth and tingles linger. There is a blaze in his eyes, she can see it, feel it. "I'll guide you through it, yeah, Silas?" She'll be dead in bed by sunrise. Unable to muster up any words and simply replying with a nod. He leans back and pulls off his coat, the belts; he's so efficient and quick with it. Silas can only stare as more and more of him is exposed. All his muscles, his naked skin.
The scar on his wrist travels up and up to his cheek. It looks like a burn of some sort. A brief moment of confusion flashes on Leander's face before he leans down in front of her. "Should I undress you too?" He smiles, teasing her. She opens her mouth only for words to cram themselves and get stuck in her throat. Instantly she begins pulling off her top, only for her sleeve to get stuck in her silver armbands. Quietly cursing to herself as she fumbles with them. Amused, Leander helps her out.
His eyes wander over her scars, some burns, more cuts from animals or such— others too neat for accidents or attacks. His eyes narrow at her ribs before travelling up to her face. "Is this okay?" He confirms, she parrots back what he said earlier. "It's better than okay." He laughs to himself. He takes her dagger and places it aside before he tugs at her pants, her boots dropping onto the floor. One last bit of clothing left covering her most intimate parts. Opting to make her more comfortable, Leander pulls off his pants first. It's too much! Silas can't help but look away, her teeth pinching her lips.
The tips of his fingers glide up her exposed thighs, over her torso, around the curve of her breasts, earning a shudder from her. They land on her face, cupping her cheeks and making her look at him. "Silas." He breathes. She doesn't. "We can stop at any moment, just let me know." He takes one of her hands and places a kiss on her palm. "I won't be upset, I promise." Pressing more kisses on her knuckles takes any leftover edge off.
"Understand?" "Yes." His hand leaves her face and moves down to her underwear. "May I?" Words get stuck once more, and she nods. "Use your words." Silas musters up and forces out a choked "Yes." Her underwear is gently tugged off. Both are now exposed, eyes shamelessly wandering, taking each other in. Once her Silas' eyes move all the way down, a bit of fear stirs in her. "Um... Is that actually supposed to fit inside me..?" Despite her voice being little more than a whisper, Leander sheepishly not too sure how to explain. "Well, yes, but don't worry, I'll prepare you."
He steps off the bed and kneels down; before she could ask what he was doing, he pulls her by her hips to the edge. "L-Leander?" His tongue licks a gentle experimental stripe. "You're wet already, I must be doing everything right." Throwing her legs over his shoulders, he dips his head down again. The wet, hot muscle flicks over her clit and sends a light shock up her body; her thighs tense around his head.
Slowly, his licks become faster— a bit harsher. Noises Silas didn't even know she could produce escaped her. They filled the room, bounced off the walls, echoed in Leander's head. A finger prodded her entrance, making her jolt. "I'll loosen you up, alright?" Leander looks up at her, his eyes full of fire and desire. Hunger overwhelming him, restraint holding on by a thread. "Alright." She answers as she feels it inside her, it's odd. It feels full, yet not quite. Overthinking what's happening doesn't let her body relax.
Leander gently shakes her hips, giving her thigh a few pats. "Relax, I'm taking care of you. Let yourself go, Silas." His voice soothed, coaxing her body to relax so that a finger could gently push itself in. His lips nip at her thighs, pressing kisses and leaving hickeys. Not wanting to overstimulate her clit, he focuses on her labia, giving it gentle lip pinches and licks. Before she knows, a third finger is in. Now it feels full, foreign, and a bit uncomfortable. The wet sounds get louder as Leander laps at her leaking entrance, watching his fingers prune.
Stars begin poking her eyes, thinking becomes harder. Every one of Leander's moves sends electricity up her spine. Something is building up in her stomach. A knot tying itself as it's fraying at the seams. "Silas." He moans her name, the vibration and his voice finally sends her over the edge. Stars so bright in her vision, needing to squeeze her eyes shut. Everything is tingling, thighs clamped around Leander's head.
He simply presses kisses into her thighs, watching the hickeys bloom. Pulling out his pruned fingers out of her and using the wetness to stroke himself gently as she comes down from her high. Once she comes to, he climbs back onto the bed and props her up on pillows. "Leander... That was amazing..." Barely able to catch her breath as a smile forms on her face. "We haven't gotten to the best part yet."
They kiss once more as Leander intertwines their fingers, putting her thighs on his. Moving closer, too close. He's hot, both in temperature and looks. Slowly, he pushes the tip in. Silas moans into the kiss, and Leander deepens it. She squeezes his hand and cups his cheek with the other. Words fumble over each other, unable to articulate what exactly she's feeling. Fully pushing himself in, he lets out a satisfied sigh. "You doing okay?" Her thumb brushes over his scar. "Yes, Leander." He nuzzles her palm. "Good."
Slowly he falls into a rhythm, the bed creaks as if in protest. The closeness, the intertwined hands, his face in her hands. All those feelings are overwhelming. Firelight illuminating half his face as he watches hers. She wants to express her feelings, but the words get jumbled in her throat and turn into a mess. Her whole being craved this— this intimacy with another person. Now that she has it, it's more than overwhelming. "Leander, I..." Barely able to croak it out— tears stinging her eyes. Leander immediately stops, concern and worry radiating off his face. "Silas? Does it hurt? Do you not like it?" His wide, worried eyes lock onto hers.
"I feel so loved. I love you." She breathes out, trying to blink away the tears. Leander watches, stunned, something unfamiliar swims under the surface of his irises. It's replaced with a smile and a kiss on her forehead. "You're perfect." He picks up his pace once again, the smile not leaving his face. Once the pace becomes faster, her hand moves from his face to his shoulder; holding onto him as if she'll fall.
Purple eyes lingering on the large scar before finding his eyes. Something in him is hungry—violent. He wants to bite down, bite hard, and never let her go. His hand grips the bedsheet so tightly his knuckles turn white. Unknowingly speeding up, craving her. The moans drive him crazy, the way she grips his shoulder harder, the way her hand squeezes his back. He squeezes her hand back, sweat beading on his skin, his breath becoming short. Something about the way she looks captivates him, gets a hold of him. Makes him go crazy.
A knot building in his stomach, smoke clouding his thoughts, his body twitching. He feels close, so close, but he wants to stay inside her longer, feel her warmth. Her body. A dangerous yet forbiddingly exciting thought flashes in his mind. It makes him go a little mad and scares him at the same time. Pulling his hips out and finishing all over her pelvic area. Coating her dewy skin in a milky white. The sound of them catching their breaths was the only thing heard.
Leander looks down at her and presses a kiss on her cheek. Leaning back and feeling inconsiderate again. "Oh, do you want me to make you finish again?" Silas quickly interrupts him as he moves his hands down. "Oh! No no! I think this is already enough for me." Doing her best to sit up, but her limbs feel like pudding, unable to hold herself up. He helps her sit up before grabbing a clean rag and wiping away the sweat and other fluids.
His touch lingers on her before he sits beside her and lets her lean on him. "Did you like it?" Silas can't contain her smile. "Yes." Putting his hand on hers, he gives her head a kiss. "That's good. You should go to the washroom and get cleaned up. I need to get back to the Adders." He picks up his clothes and places her on the bed beside her. Leander seems like he already bounced back and is about to leave. "Wait, Leander!" He hums and turns to her. "Thank you."
Leander smiles. "Of course." Then the door shuts behind him.
I apologize for my sudden hiatus! After the wrap up of my semester I really needed a break from everything. I have brainstormed ideas but only have started on one, Nxght also needed a break from everything.
We both ended up coming up with a multi-part long stories! Here is a snippet of mine!
-
"Let's get going back for real." He takes your hand, his discoloured skin and rotten veins. Somehow you're both blessed and cursed by it. Giyuu wasn't taken from you but he's always suffering. Some days fully lucid, other days he fights his twisted instincts. Salivating and scratching at the walls. Living in the present is the best thing you can do, only looking a few feet ahead rather than planning for a hike. His hand is cold, most of his body is.
-
A friend of mine allowed me to reuse her old fanfic to create this one! This is a zombie AU with Giyuu! Probably going to be heavy lore focused and not much smut BUTTT I'll do my best to supplement that with other smut stories!
I apologize for my sudden hiatus! After the wrap up of my semester I really needed a break from everything. I have brainstormed ideas but only have started on one, Nxght also needed a break from everything.
We both ended up coming up with a multi-part long stories! Here is a snippet of mine!
-
"Let's get going back for real." He takes your hand, his discoloured skin and rotten veins. Somehow you're both blessed and cursed by it. Giyuu wasn't taken from you but he's always suffering. Some days fully lucid, other days he fights his twisted instincts. Salivating and scratching at the walls. Living in the present is the best thing you can do, only looking a few feet ahead rather than planning for a hike. His hand is cold, most of his body is.
-
A friend of mine allowed me to reuse her old fanfic to create this one! This is a zombie AU with Giyuu! Probably going to be heavy lore focused and not much smut BUTTT I'll do my best to supplement that with other smut stories!
Stakes: Closet hook-up, name calling, no one actually likes Derek, overstimulation, top reader, light spanking, coming inside, jacking off, minimal prep
Game Length: 0.6K
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event! Choose Your Own Adventure! (Kind of) Starting Point!
Grabbing Derek by his shoulders, before turning him around. You press his face against the wall as he strains against you. "Let's see this billion-dollar ass, Goffard." Peppering kisses on his nape as you pull down his pants. Hugging his waist, you push him down to all fours; he can feel you get hard and press against him. Reaching forward and finding Derek's face; you put two fingers to his mouth.
He isn't letting your fingers in. "I need to loosen you…" Still not budging. What a bitch. "Or else it will hurt." Derek tenses before opening his mouth for you. Smiling as he coats your fingers in his saliva. He must have a low pain tolerance, by the way he is almost desperately sucking on your fingers. Now you want to make it hurt, make him squirm, beg. Cry. You remove your fingers and glide your hand down his body.
He shivers. You squeeze his butt, and you hear his breath quicken. You press your fingers to his hole; as soon as one fingertip goes in, his hips jerk forward and away. An ass virgin, not surprised. Now you get to take it from him. Giving his thigh a harsh smack, earning a stifled groan from him before pulling him back. You press your finger back inside; his body tenses, not used to this intrusion.
Spending almost no time prepping him, scissoring him open for a few seconds. You'd be here all night trying to really work him open. He's tense as fuck. Positioning yourself above him, slowly pushing your tip in. Leaning over him and holding him by his neck when he tries to move forward. "Ah-ah!" Swiftly you bottom out and let out a groan along with him. Running a hand over his back, you feel bumps.
Scars, probably from when he was younger. The property is huge, maybe he ran too much and hurt himself. Though some seem more recent than others— he probably hooked up with a woman with stiletto nails and fucked her too good. Pressing your lips to his nape and shoulders, sucking hickeys onto his skin. He squeezes hard around you, it's almost painful. Beginning a fast rhythm, hands holding Derek's hips.
At first he cries out, pleasured moans escaping his mouth till he stifles them. Punishing that with a harsh thrust that makes him arch his back and moan into the wall his face is pressed up against. He's hot. Hotter than you've imagined. You want more of his moans, his cries. Leaning over him once more and thrusting deeper into him. Tangling your fingers in his silky hair, it feels just like silk. Messing with his hair and hearing how he protests with jerking his head away.
It smells nice too. It must be from the beauty company sisters. They need gossip like they need air, of course they'll suck up to Derek for connections. You feel close. Thrusts become sloppy— you're breathless. Reaching down to Derek's sopping cock and wrapping your fingers around it. He protests by grabbing your wrist, but you jerk him off, regardless. He's hard as rock, pre-cum dripping down.
You barely got a few pumps in before he burst. His back arches against you as he goes soft in your hand. Derek came so fast you're almost dumbfounded. He probably gets overstimulated just as fast. Hands back on his hips as you pick up pace, driving yourself to your climax. Loud moans escape his mouth, unable to stop himself. Your nails digging into his skin, making him squirm. The moans turn into whimpers.
The knot builds in your stomach, hanging over the edge. You bottom out and hit your climax, moaning at the ceiling. Filling him with your semen. Derek's legs give out as soon as you go soft and slip out. After catching your breath and pulling up your pants, you get up. "Bitch boy." You scoff before leaving the room.
Stakes: Closet hook-up, name calling, no one actually likes Derek, overstimulation, piv sex, pet names (use of "good girl"), degradation, cunnilingus, jacking off, light asphyxiation, minimal prep
Game Length: 0.6k
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event! Choose Your Own Adventure! (Kind of) Starting Point!
Arms around his neck, you lean back against the wall. Lifting a leg and pressing against him. Desperate for friction, skin to skin. A good fuck. "Fucking whore." He purrs before kissing you once more. Unbuckling his belt before pushing his pants and underwear down. You undress and begin peeling away your already soaked underwear. Grabbing onto his shoulders for perches as he holds up your lifted leg.
His other hand guiding his tip into your dripping entrance. Unable to focus on anything but him. Penetration was uncomfortable at most, satisfying at best. Derek definitely isn't small; you feel the way he pushes your bumpy walls back. Oh, and his veins, so prominent, they can drive you crazy right here and now. "Oh, you're good, Derek." Derek's breath is hot on your shoulder as his hand snakes up to your neck. Other hand gripping your thigh as he bottoms out.
Light pressure on your jugular is enough to make you just a little lightheaded. It gets your heart going, and it snowballs from there. His hips begin a rhythm, rough from the get-go. Clearly only chasing his own high. A hot tongue runs up your neck, sucking in sensitive spots. Or maybe he isn't all greedy; he's making you feel good. Hand moving higher and making you lean your head back.
"Good girl." He breathes to your skin. He begins sucking on your neck, trying and failing to satisfy you and successfully leave a hickey. Briefly recalling how a few girls were talking about all the hickeys they could place on Derek. It happened at a New Year's party from what you remember overhearing. He opted to bite instead; nipping at your neck and gnawing on your collarbone.
It wasn't for pleasure after all. He probably gets off on people being hurt, seeing how his hips moved faster and rougher when he heard your pained grunts sprinkled in-between the moans. Derek lifts your leg higher. Now being able to reach deeper inside you. In this position, he was ramming into a tender part, your g-spot firing off your nerves. Your spine was electric. Fireworks flashing in your eyes.
A warm hand cups your breast and squeezes it, feeling it up and playing with it like a toy. He licked the irritated skin on your neck and collarbone, hot breath warming you. His thrusts are now sloppy, out of rhythm. He's close. Pulling out and letting his semen coat your legs. Warm and sticky. Letting go of your leg, you hear him shuffle a bit. He's just going to leave? You haven't cum yet. You weren't even close.
Hands on his shoulders as you push him backward. "The fuck?!" His pants effectively tie his feet together, which causes him to fall back on his butt. Before he can protest, your hand tangles in his hair. Messing up his perfect image. You tilt his face up and press your lower lips to his. "Eat it, dog." His tongue runs through your folds, nose just barely bumping your clit. Finally, some stimulation there.
Derek's lips all over yours, tongue prodding around and pushing into your entrance. He has definitely never done this before. Moaning against your skin as you hear a fap fap fap, in a rhythm of his tongue. Your smile grew when you heard whimpers from him, doing his best to stifle them. Every motion of his tongue brought you closer and closer to the edge. If only he kept this type of tempo with his dick, maybe you'd come.
It builds in your stomach and crashes over you. Eyes rolling back as your grip on his hair tightened. Once the brain fuzz clears, you can hear Derek whimpering, hissing in pain. You let go of his hair and feel around the floor for your clothes. "Bitch boy." You sneer as you leave him in the room, still panting.
Stakes: Closet hook-up, name calling, no one actually likes Derek, overstimulation, blowjob, degradation
Game Length: 0.6k
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event! Choose Your Own Adventure! (Kind of) Starting Point!
You sink to your knees, as if recreating the gap between statuses and wealth. Hands on his hips, patting around for his belt. A loud, slightly raspy chuckle escapes him. "Right where you belong too…" He breathes, music no longer drowning out his voice. His hand finding your head, threading his fingers in your hair, tugging impatiently as your hands unzip him.
Like unwrapping a present. His pants pool at his feet as you press kisses on his already growing hard bulge, his boxers straining. Derek's breath becomes quicker, deeper. Hotter. Pressing your sopping tongue against the fabric and creating a wet spot. "Get on with it." Hissing like a snake. What a bitch. "If I get bored, I'll just find another bitch to fuck." God, does he ever shut up?
Hands pull down his boxers, and his cock bumps your lip as it bobs. It's almost painfully warm. No bush, a shaver from what you can feel. "Quit feeling me up and fucking suck me." He is so slappable, holy shit. Taking the tip into your mouth, pressing your tongue against it. A moan escapes him; drowning fast in the background noise. Taking him further. Deeper. Warming him in your mouth.
His hips move, rutting in your mouth. He quickly becomes rough. Pulling your hair, hitting his balls on your chin, bottoming out and clogging your throat for longer than you're comfortable with. Hand tangles your hair, making knots. It's hard to get comfortable; his erratic pace leaves him unpredictable.
Soon though, he matches pace with your bobbing. Falling into a satisfying rhythm that doesn't suffocate you. Holding onto his thighs, smooth. He must shave everything that isn't on his head. Moans become louder, more gruff. "Fuck… you're as good as you look." You raise a brow, unsure if he's being sarcastic or not; though soon you roll your eyes in the dark. Quickly, his thrusts become sloppy. No way he is gonna cum this soon?
Right? Just as that thought pops into your mind, a splash of salty liquid hits your tongue. The tiny room fills with his groans; soon they fizzle out into stifled whimpers. He softens in your mouth and slips out of your mouth. "Swallow it… All of it…" He demands. What a brat. Debating for a few moments whether to actually do it. Eh, you only live once. It leaves a bitter aftertaste.
That's… it? Really? Mr.Can-Only-Last-Two-Minutes. "You're pretty good." You hear him shuffle. No way, you're not satisfied. Not yet. Hands on his hips, you push him back. His back hits the wall. "The fuck?" His voice. Irritating, grating even. You need to shut him up, make him whine, moan. Cry. Taking him in your mouth again, feeling the way he hardened again. Derek's composure slipped through his fingers, unable to grasp it. "H-hah! That's right, keep sucking, slut."
Such a fragile facade. You can hear it in his shaking voice. His head leaning back, breath growing unsteady. Derek tries steadying himself, leaning back against the wall for support from his shaking legs. His groans turn to desperate whines; like a fucking dog. He hunches over, hands tangled in your hair. "F-Fuck…" Whines turn to desperate groans as he comes in your mouth. Salty liquid fills your mouth; then a smile tugs at your lips.
Hearing him sit down as he catches his breath. "Fffffuck…" Hands reach out and touch his body, bringing yourself closer until your lips meet his. Holding his face to yours as you let him taste himself, smiling brighter as he cringes and tries to move his head back. Once he regains his strength, he pushes you back by your shoulder.
You stand up, rolling the glob of saliva-cum mixture on your tongue before spitting it somewhere in his direction. "Bitch boy." You hiss. Fucking spoiled brat. Wiping your chin and lips with the back of your hand before stepping out of the room.
Rxd's Notes: Not really a "Choose Your Own Adventure" per ce, more like "choose your body parts" but I hope everyone still enjoys it! Sprinkled in some Derek lore too!
Game Length: 0.8k
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event! Choose Your Own Adventure! (Kind of) The Start
A party hosted by the Goffards themselves. All the heirs were told it was a “networking” gathering, but everyone knew it was an opportunity for them to get black out drunk in a ballroom. The parents will be upstairs, unknowing and passing on stale conversations, while you and the other scions will enjoy the premium catering of overly expensive alcohol and delicacies you’ll most likely throw up later. Your family is new to this food chain, you must make your stand or risk being eaten alive.
In this “network”, the Goffards rank pretty high on the ladder. Rumours that the oldest son is the only beneficiary intrigued you. “Maybe he’s the only child conceived through wedlock. The others must be from one-night stands.” The beauty company daughters whispered behind you. Of course, that’s the case. Some of the Goffard children are so close in age and look noticeably different from each other. You assume they’ll also be attending the party, though you don’t think you’ll see them anywhere near the oldest.
Derek is his name. He has a nasty attitude, chin so high he could be staring into heaven itself. A son of a Supreme Court judge who comes from old money once told you that Derek’s father paid them to cover up his misdemeanours. “Illegally loud exhausts, driving triple the speed limit, swerving, street racing, running red lights. That’s not even an eighth.” Even though most of the scions hate this nerd, he has good gossip. You still remember how he adjusted his glasses while listing off Derek’s crimes.
Rather than going upstairs to the fancy ballroom, the heirs give each other slight glances while heading downstairs. Heavy doors being held open for you. Butlers, they’re greeting and welcoming you. Watching the maids do last-minute preparations, such as bringing out the sweets, following them to another ballroom. This mansion is fucking huge. Here it’s more modern, something from a nightclub. Someone is already sitting at a bar table.
That fake blond hair slicked back and a shit-eating grin, sipping on what you can assume is a blue fireball. You aren’t surprised that he has his own bartender; you would too if your parents were any stricter. This is going to be fun. DJ welcomes everyone with an upbeat song, one that gets people to raise their hands and pull their friends to the dance floor. The bar gets stormed, hands reaching for drinks. Sip into the atmosphere.
Shoulders finally dropping, no more of that annoying polite smile from you. The bartender is very efficient, must be the best of the best. Pouring shots, mixing drinks, decorating cocktails. After reaching the bottom of your glass, the dance floor calls to you. Bodies swaying, hands in the air, lights dimming and allow the disco lights to bounce off the walls. It’s hypnotising, from the songs to the lights. Drawing you in. It feels like a chain on your neck, pulling you in.
A siren song lulling you to drown. Eyes focus on one thing. Derek. Cocky smirk as he is eyeing people, clearly judging bodies and outfits. He too is swaying to the music, looking like he’s almost stumbling but hiding it. Polished jade meets your gaze, and it lingers on you. Someone new at his party. Snaking through the bodies toward each other. His hands on your hips as he leans in. Breath tickles your ear. “Haven’t seen you before, sweetie.”
Fingers creep lower, digits squeezing at the mound of your butt, a few more words you couldn’t make amidst the blasting song, but from the way he pressed into you told everything. He wants to fuck. Fuck hard. Fuck now. Patience of a feisty, spoiled toddler. Greedy twat. If he weren’t rich and didn’t directly aid your company, you wouldn’t even spare him a glance. You’re glad he is. The way he talks, walks and carries himself is hot. Sexy. His attitude is fucking vile though.
Alcohol liquidated your judgement, might as well, right? From what you feel, it might not be a shrimp. He doesn’t look bad, at least not when his hair is messy. No longer slicked back. Letting lose. Teeth nipping at your neck, hands foaming freely on your body. Slowly, he began pulling you out and away from the dance floor, hand resting on your lower back. He guided you to a door. Looks like storage for the ballroom.
The disco ball briefly shines into the room where chairs are kept. It’s cramped with little walking space. As soon as the door closes, his lips are on yours. The room was pitch black except the brief flashes of light under the door. Music, nothing but a muffled boom. Lips rough but not dry, not much plump to them either. Hands rough against your body, feeling you up, squeezing painfully. Kiss so rough and dizzying, once he pulls away, you’re both panting.
Kneel down(Gn Ver) - Turn Him Around(Masc Ver) - Press Against Him(Fem Ver)
Me and Nxght are on AO3! We will slowly add all our fics in there! Night is fuming figuring out how to do the whole choose your own adventure thing on there (I'll have to face that wraith as well(ᵕ—ᗜ—)) so her fics will arrive a bit later after she sorts it out.
In the mean time! Enjoy my fav fic so far! House of Balloons - Derek Goffard!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Kinktober and Goretober schedule turned out to be too ambitious for me and Nxght. We thought we'd have more time but studying really snuffs out your creativity and some of the days we just dumped in whatever just to fill an overhead quota. We didn't expect our midterms and projects to pile up so fast! Next year we will definitely prepare in advance and have fewer days.
Apologies to everyone who was looking forward to the second half of Kinktober/Goretober! However, me and Nxght can finally work on our wips! Such as Seven Minutes In Heaven with our fav whiny spoiled brat Derek!(,,♡ᵕ♡,,) Nxght doesn't really like doing teasers but I got permission to spoil.`⎚⩊⎚´ -✧ Strade sticking his stick in places sticks shouldn't go, it's vile and nasty and oh so hot!!(˶˃ ᗜ ˂˶)
Once again, we apologize to those who were looking forward to the second half of our October event, but if you were really looking forward to one of the prompt days, please feel free to Place a bet!
Stakes: Mentions of physical abuse, abuse of alcohol, dub-con (captive Reader, drunk Derek), no prep sex, daddy issues, family issues, mention of slurs
Rxd's Notes: This fanfic is inspired partially by one of @totallynormalaudio's audios about drunk Derek but I also love the idea of a pathetic crying Derek who can't last more than 2 mins in bed
Game Length: 1.7k
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Washing your face wakes you up, but you wish the water could take away your bruises too. Wash away all the pain. It's not fair. The rain cleans up the earth, renews it. But it doesn't do the same for you. Pointless thought to bitch over. All your thoughts are redundant. Pointless ideas that can't go further than the perimeter of your confinement. They just circle around you. Taunting.
"Fucking hell…" followed by a slurred string of more curses with slurs peppered in. He's back and clearly intoxicated. Or well, he never left. He just left the room you're trapped in. This time is different from his usual drunken spurts— his voice is shaky. Sucking in a breath you walk out. He's a mess. The usual slicked back hair is messy on his face, worse than what it was in the dessert. Shirt undone and stained with the drink half empty in his hand.
Tears wet his face, barely able to walk straight. "I do fucking… everything for your fucking… old hag bitch ass…" He slurs. You're more worried about that bottle in his hand, last time he tried to hit you with one it never broke. The bruises were there for weeks. A plum purple, maroon red on the edges for a long time.
His eyes meet yours. Washroom light illuminating your barely clothed body. Lacey underwear. It's what he likes. It's what he forces you to wear. He chokes, unable to stifle his sobs. "What the fuck- are you? An… angel?" The moon's blind gaze seeps through the large windows, it illuminates his face. It's a slap mark, red. Blooming into a bruise. Derek takes a swig. It burns his throat, leathers his tongue. Stumbling till he sits on the bed.
You want to laugh, he's wailing over a slap when the shit he inflicts on you— he calls your name. It startles you. Usually he calls you over by using mutt, toy or any other insult that comes to mind. Gently you run your fingers over the bruise on your wrist. Despite the ache in your back and reluctance to move, you approach him. Heart aching, the shrivel of humanity in you empathises with him.
Awkwardly standing beside him, he reeks of alcohol. It's probably his third bottle. The bottle lifts to his lips, rather than just a swig he takes multiple gulps of the liquid. A part of his drunken self wishing for a croquembouche, something sweet to make him feel better. Haphazardly he puts the bottle on the night stand, dissociating ever so slightly before wrapping an arm around your waist.
His cheek pressed against your belly, like a small child clinging to their parent. "I'm a perfect… fucking son for him… I go to events, I smile, I laugh." His words are choked, speaking through gritted teeth and using derogatory slurs on the other heirs. "I'm fucking perfect, yet why the fuck…" He hiccups, tears wetting your navel. His other arm wraps around you, bringing you even closer.
"Fucking hell 'Derek don't do that!' 'Derek don't drive one-twenty on a fifty road' 'Derek go talk to that pharmaceuticals bitch, tie that lose end for me' 'Derek be on your best… FUCKING behaviour'" He squeezes you, his voice cracking. "I AM on my best behaviour." The tight hold relaxes, one arm drops and the other lazily holding you. Thumb gently rubbing your skin. "I do everythin'… right… I…" The dropped arm suddenly comes up to grip your shoulder, pulling you down to sit.
Your eyes meet his when you sit. Tourmaline. He showed you a ring he bought not long ago; the stone in the middle was called tourmaline. Specifically Paraíba tourmaline, from Brazil. A green-ish blue, like the coast it's from. Maybe he bought it because he thought it matched his eyes. You think it does. As if his eyes were the gem.
He looks at you with such… child-like pain, desperation. Like a child forced to bare a heavy weight, an image. A legacy. With a head held high and a bright smile. "I do every fuckin' thin' he says… But…" He looks at you as if you'll solve it. Like if he cries and begs enough you'll fix everything wrong in his life. Clinging to you. "As soon as I ask a single. Fucking. Question." The distance in his eyes.
"I get punished…" An exasperated puff of air leaves his lips before it tugs into a smile. He laughs, only for a moment. Head dipping as he feels the room spin. Eventually it rests on your shoulder. "I… have no friends… they're all fuckin' leeches… my own- my…" Struggling to suck in a breath. "My own family hates me… so I hate them back… But FUCK!" His head jerks back and he nearly falls backward.
"They don't get a… ffffuckin' beating!" You slowly lean back, nervous. "BUT I DO!" Rough grip on your wrist as he pulls you closer, his gaze on his lap. "B-But… I… I do…" His grip relaxes as his head raises again, looking at you through his hair. It's sticking to his face from the sweat. "Every mistake, every fucking action or question he didn't like is etched into my skin. In to my back!"
"Y-You…" He breathes, almost wheezing. You don't know what to make of this. He seems so human right now, not a sadistic monster who kicks you for his own pleasure. "You always listen to me… whenever I talk about my father…" Using his sleeve he wipes his face then resorting to taking off his shirt and using that to clean his face. Maybe he's calming down.
He takes a deep breath in and lets it out reluctantly. You think he's calmed down but his lip wobbles. Taking in a sharp breath before whining. Crying again. He reaches back and grabs the bottle by the throat. Gripping it so hard his knuckles turn white. Bringing the rim to his lips. The liquid pours down his chin and streams down his body.
The bottle shatters when it hits the wall, shards playing a brief symphony on the mahogany hardwood. He sucks in a breath again before pushing you down, knees on either side of your hips. Hands beside your head as he looms over you, no longer crying; just sniffling. "S-Save me…" It was almost laughable, the man who hunted you in a desert, uses you as a punching bag, put a tracker in your arm, is begging YOU to save him?
You feel your lips tug into a smile, you can't fight it. Like a yawn you're unable to stifle. His head dips lower till his lips are hovering above yours. All you smell is alcohol. "Please…" Your lips connect. Your body freezes. Derek never kisses you, ever, he never shows you any care. No love. This feels passionate, like he means it. A hand moves down your body, it tickles as it glides over your skin.
The hand goes straight for your underwear. The kiss breaks as he pulls the lace off, followed by his own pants and boxers. He's already half hard, it bobs every so slightly as he wipes his eyes. Shit he's going to go in dry. It burns. Your entrance straining, trying to accommodate him. A sharp sting jolts your body. You definitely ripped.
Hands on your hips as he gets off the bed and pulls you to the edge. Immediately he starts moving, sloppy rhythmless thrusts. Bedsheet crumpled in your hands, pained groans filled the room. Back arched to do anything to alleviate this torturous intrusion. All you can do is hope he barely lasts two minutes and falls asleep.
His fingers roam your body, as if blind and trying to study your body. Something about his touches are intimate, as if he is trying to map out your soul. Savour this. You want to savour this, it may be the only time he is somewhat gentle with you. You bet he won't even remember walking into his room come tomorrow. Feeling the familiar twitch and moans of his when he comes. It never fails to make you feel disgusting.
Panting fills the room, as he softens and slips out of your entrance. The sticky milky white follows. He bends down over you, using his hands as support. Mattress sinking beside your head as his head dips low, to your neck. Soft kisses are peppered on your skin. "You're… the only one who can't lie to me… can't avoid me… you listen to me." He laughs to himself, more raspy than usual. "Well, it's not like you have a choice…"
Lifting his head and gazing down at you. For a handful of moments he just stares. Your eyes dare to wander, to his shoulders. A dusting of small scars, most have faded enough to not be noticeable. Your hand moves up to his shoulder, running your finger tips over the minute bumps. "My father gave them to me…" He sniffs, eyes moving to the window.
"He beat me a lot, still does but it's not as bad now… but fuck… a twenty seven year old getting fucking beat by his father…" He lets out a pained laugh. "It was so bad I got a tattoo… to cover that shit up…" The scorpion. You remember his awful pain tolerance, despite it— he got the tattoo. A large one too. Right over his scars.
The blood, the anger. It drips down from his father's knuckles onto his, now it's staining you. Pain and fake faces is probably the only thing he knows, he must feel like prey in his own home. The vultures living with him that want a slice of his inheritance. "I probably won't even remember this…" Tourmaline gaze shines back on you. Hands moving to grip you under your armpits and he pushes you up properly onto the bed.
His head rests on your chest as he settles down. Hesitantly you wrap your arms around him as his hand rests on the side of your ribs. Gentle fingers rubbing your skin. Gentle and Derek in the same sentence is comical, like a cold fire. "I appreciate that… you listen to me… no one else, ever does…" It takes a few seconds to prosses his words, but you can't respond as he's already asleep in your arms.
Hi :3 can you do 7 minutes in heaven with Derek??? Pretty pleaseeeeeeeeeee
Oh myyyy~
Darling Anon, that's already in the works
I still have to catch up with Kinktober thooo (ᵕ—ᗜ—)
But since you asked so nicely, I'll give you a sneak peek (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
A party hosted by the Goffards themselves. All the heirs were told it was a “networking” gathering, but everyone knew it was an opportunity for them to get black out drunk in a ballroom. The parents will be upstairs, unknowing and passing on stale conversations, while you and the other scions will enjoy the premium catering of overly expensive alcohol and delicacies you’ll most likely throw up later.
In this “network”, the Goffards rank pretty high on the ladder. Rumours that the oldest son is the only beneficiary intrigued you. “Maybe he’s the only child conceived through wedlock. The others must be from one-night stands.” The beauty company daughters whispered behind you. Of course, that’s the case. Some of the Goffard children are so close in age and look noticeably different from each other. You assume they’ll also be attending the party, though you don’t think you’ll see them anywhere near the oldest.
Derek is his name. He has a nasty attitude, chin so high he could be staring into heaven itself. A son of a Supreme Court judge who comes from old money once told you that Derek’s father paid them to cover up his misdemeanours. “Illegally loud exhausts, driving triple the speed limit, swerving, street racing, running red lights. That’s not even an eighth.” Even though most of the scions hate this nerd, he has good gossip. You still remember how he adjusted his glasses while listing off Derek’s crimes.
Rxd's Notes: This is a translated Renga called "Cracks in a dry bulb". Huge inspo from Blue eye samurai! 50% of this fic is dialogue lol
Game Length: ~500
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event! Kinktober Day 16 - Poetry(Renga)
Incense floated around the room, wisps of smoke flying through like dragons. Curving and turning. Soft floral scent swirled around you and Hanzo. Candle light enough to illuminate the both of you. The spa in the mountains has no light pollution, stars bright and plentiful in the sky. Doors open to the night sky view. Both nude and toasty, fresh out of the hot springs.
Hands begin wandering. "Cracks in a dry bulb…" He speaks to your skin, pressing kisses on your neck. "… The tulip tucks through the mulch…" Slowly laying you down. "… After rains, buds show…" Callus hands rub your sides. "… Inspiring in me feelings." You answer. "Surely spring has finally come." Hands find the string holding his bun up, letting his hair spill down.
"I lay in the fields, Insects dance on blades of grass…" Both your breaths hitch. He's pressing into your entrance. "… Birds fly and tumble." His tip squeezes in. "The alarm’s shrill birdsong…" You run your fingers through his hair. "… Pulls me from the grassy sheets." Pressing a kiss on his forehead. Once Hanzo bottoms out, you both let out a pleasured breath. "Startled awake, Moon sitting high in the sky…" You both look to the side and out the open doors.
Moon, her beautiful blind gaze. Stars sprinkled densely in the sky. "… No longer can I sleep." His voice gruff. "Autumn winds have chased storm clouds away…" You feel him begin moving, turning to face him once more. "… Deer still hiding… in bare woods." Reciting is becoming harder, head filling with petals. Thinking is becoming harder as pleasure fills your brain like soda. Fizzy and sweet.
"A red leaf clinging, To a branch; wind knocks it down…" He dips his face down to yours. Breaths mixing. Lips a mere inch away from each other. "… Crunchingly deer step." He lets your lips meet. Tongues tangling like woven strings, tying this moment in your lives. He picks up his pace, rubbing against your most sensitive spots. Hands on yours. "Enshrouded, I rest my head…" Whispering you cup his cheek.
"… My mind wandering the trees." Then you move your hand to the back of his neck. Hanzo's pace picks up, faster, deeper. Closer. Knot fraying in your stomach, mind becoming fuzzy. "Years since I last saw, Her hair matted at noontime…" He speaks as he leans his head back. "… Like glorious birds." Pressing a kiss on your forehead, taking in your scent.
Barely able to catch your breath, his thrusts were so powerful they force the air out of your lungs. "Though I yearn to hear her song…" So close, nearing the edge, approaching your climax. "… A cage would not allow flight." He's close too, stuttering as he is trying to recite. Your hands tangle in his hair, seeing his grey hair twirled with inky black.
"Somber canary, retaining her sullen silence…" You both are approaching your climax, so close. Almost over the edge. "… I open the door." He whispers and it leads you both over the edge. Loud satisfied moans fill the room along with desperate breaths.
Stakes: First time, gentle sex, talking you through it, nicknames, plenty of reassurance
Rxd's Notes: All midterm tests are done so I'll be catching up on Kinktober and Nxght will be catching up Goretober, we will be posting as soon as we're done writing!
Game Length: ~500
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event! Kinktober Day 13 - First Time
"You feeling okay, Bua?" His gaze locked on your face, gently asking you. Niran barely got his tip inside. It's weird, so weird. Foreign but also good? Basic missionary, your legs overtop of his as he looms above you like a beautiful lush canopy. His silky white hair spilling over his shoulder. "Yeah, I think so." You answer and give his hand a squeeze. He leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead. "Anything, anything wrong — tell me immediately." He repeated for the eighth time.
Beyond considerate as always. He moved his hips forward, slowly. Inch by inch. The stretch wasn't painful, Niran made sure of that. Making sure to prepare the lube and relax you nicely. His long fingers scissored you open gently, as if he was handling the flowers in his garden. Pouring a generous amount of slick on himself as well. Despite his constant reassurance and dotting, you were still tense from nervousness.
Once he bottomed out, he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. "How does it feel?" voice soft as silk. "Weird." You answer, it's foreign, tight, filling, good, close. He chucked. "Once the tightness goes away…" A hand shakes your thigh gently, as if trying to make it relax. You recall nurses doing that when giving shots. "… meaning when you let yourself relax, I'll start to move." His hands begin massaging your hips, thighs and a bit of your pelvis.
His eyes were so soft, patient. It's still nerve-racking; sex is always portrayed as a fast pace thing, intense, mind numbing thing. Though now, it's different from what you've seen, what you've been told. A whole other idea. "I'm still nervous, I don't know why." Niran smiled and took your hands in his. "If you're worried about what will happen, I'll talk you though it alright?" Warm thumbs rubbing the back of your hand.
You nod. "Once you're relaxed, I'll start moving. Back and forth, as we're both in the zone, I can speed up or slow down." He placed a kiss on your knuckles. "All up to you!" You want to, you want to feel him. "Okay, I think you can start moving." He lets go of your hands and puts them down on the bed. Slowly, he moves back, feeling how his veins rub against your tender flesh. You exhale — it's amazing.
"Now I'm going to move back in." And he did so. Softly moaning and closing his eyes to enhance the feeling. It felt way better this time. You felt yourself relax and get lost in the feeling. Get lost in him. With him. The pace is steady, slow, intimate. Needy hands unable to stop touching him, his arms, neck, shoulders, face. Everything. He pressed a kiss on your palm when you cupped his cheek. You want him. Forever.
Desire burned in his eyes. Passionate. One of his hands went down and stroked at your sensitive flesh. "Go faster, Niran."
Rxd's Notes: Mid Term is eating me out hard so expect a lot of delays this week! Sorry everyone :<
Game Length: ~500
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event! Kinktober Day 10 - Clothed Sex
Kento presses his lips to yours, a feverish and desperate kiss. He pulls on his tie and tosses it when it unfurls. "I need you, darling." He breathes. Needs you. You're air itself. Kisses travelling down to your neck as his hands wander your body. "Is it alright?" You missed him too, hands in his hair, massaging his scalp. "Of course, love." A new excitement sparks in him.
His giddy, boy-ish crush on you gives him a high when you give him permission. Kisses become more feverish, desperate. So needy for you. A clinking metal catches your attention. Peeking down and seeing Kento open up his belt— such a needy man. "Here, Kento? In the hallway?" Your hand finds his face. "I need you." He whispers.
Pulling off your bottoms and underwear as Kento kneels down. He presses kisses on your inner thighs before maneuvering you so he can eat you out. Breath hot on you, his tongue pressing into the best spots. You could tell he wanted to rush but also wanted to make sure you're well prepared. Pleasurable moans mixed with his desperate ones.
Now you couldn't take it anymore, you wanted him. Bad. "I'm ready." You tell. Reassure. Beg. Desperate for him. Instantly he's up and holding you up against the wall; pulling down his underwear just enough to free his length. He then begins pressing into your entrance. Going slowly despite what his desire begs. Moving steadily but slowly before he bottoms out. Pure euphoria.
Full of him, body and mind. The way he looks at you, with overflowing love. Hands warm against your skin. Lips back on lips. Hands find each other. Holding tight. Just the closeness is amazing, being one. Seconds that felt like years passed, and then his hips began moving. It sent shivers down your spine. Hands around his neck, lips crashing. He never ceases to satisfy you.
Nerves on fire, bursting at the seams with pleasure. Closeness making your brain fuzzy, feeling a knot begin to fray. Endless kisses, breaking for mere moments before going back in for more. "I missed you… so much, darling." And he was only away for a few hours. "I… I need more." Kento's hands travel down and cup your butt before lifting you up. Now he can reach deeper. Reach his high, the closeness and pleasure of it.
Wet noises mixed with both your moans. You hold on to Kento like your life depends on it. Thrusts became sloppy, desperate to get himself and you to your climax. He reached it first with a loud groan and staggered thrusts. With the help of his hand, he got you to yours shortly after. A handful of moments passed before he slowly let you down.
"You feeling okay, darling? Did I go too hard?" He asked, voice gruff but so sexy. Gentle hands cupping your face as you catch your breath. "Yes, I'm okay." You answer and kiss his palm. "Let's get cleaned up." You suggest, and he nods.
Kinktober/Goretober day 10 will be delayed by 2 days!
Mid-terms mean a lot of deadlines and stuff to cram! So me and nxght are going to be behind on our fics! We apologize and we will make sure the rest of the days are on time!
In the mean time please give Nxght some love and check out Fox Hunt! a choose your own adventure with Ren hana!
And my Derek fic House Of Ballons! And if you enjoyed that fic and would like a more twisted and not drunk Derek check out Goretober Day 1 once again by nxght!
Stakes: Pet play, pet names, riding, light dick sucking
Rxd's Notes: Woof woof!~ <3
Game Length: ~500
ID Checks! Must be 18+ to play or be banned!
Special Event!: Kinktober Day 7 - Pet Play
A piece of a biscuit was held in front of your mouth. Gently, you take it with your lips. "Good Hondje." His other hand pets your head, scratching the back of it as well. Crawling closer and nuzzling his thigh. You lick a long stripe up his throbbing cock— it sends shivers down his spine. His breath becoming deeper, uneven. "Good… Good…" He moans your name right after; Ice-blue eyes cracking, wavering, filling with pleasure.
High off power, he puts the tip in your mouth. Obeying and dipping your head. His gaze floats up to the ceiling, leaning back in ecstasy. Lip between his teeth as your head moves up and down. Humming and pressing your tongue against him. "Fuck…" He breathes before lifting your face. "Down." You lower your body. "Sit." You kneel. "Paw." He holds out his hand. You lift yours and place it on his.
Theo pulls your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss atop your knuckles. "Good Hondje~" His voice is gruff and oozing with desire. He seems in a good mood. Disobey. Push his buttons. Nip at his fingers and bark. Letting go of your hand, he lowers his hand to your face. "Chin." You lean in and hastily put your teeth on his fingers. A noise of surprise leaves him as he watches you roll his digits on your tongue.
Sinister and playful smile etches itself onto his face. "Bad Hondje." He pulls his hand out of your mouth. "Bad dogs must be punished." All too eagerly, you climb onto his lap. Metaphorical tail wagging. Excitement in your veins. Wanting him to spank you. Flip you over and mount you. Bite your shoulder and lap up the blood. Like a dog.
But he knows you all too well. An owner knows their Hondje inside and out. Mental notes of your behaviour, what you like and don't like. His hands run up your sides, feeling you. Mapping you out. Eyes not looking into your confused ones. He isn't touching you where you want him to touch you. Hands avoiding all the tender sensitive spots.
Smiling like he is doing nothing wrong. Hands down at your thighs, massaging the fat. Moving to the inner thighs only to pull away as your breath hitched. Fuck. "Touch me." You demand. Desire. Plead. Beg. All at once. Theo doesn't even bat an eye. He runs a hand up and down your belly, tickling you a bit. "Doesn't my Hondje like belly rubs?" Skipping your eyes as he looks at your hair, scratching behind your ear.
"Or ear scratches?" You need him. So. Fucking. Bad. Hands on his shoulders and you push him backward on the bed. His face turns into a surprise. You move a hand behind you and press his tip to your entrance. "So high maintenance." He laughs and grips your hips. Helping you take him, all of him. Immediately, hips got to work, rutting on top of him.
"Good fucking Hondje." His hips buck to meet yours and a wild smile spreads across his face.
