#fire kink

[endlessarms]

trans high priestess looking for cuties who's skin I can put out burning sticks on in intricate rituals

[finefeatheredfabler]

Come On Baby, Light My Fire

Why Can’t We Be Friends Chapter 49

1900 words.

Most of this is John/Sharky smut, there is very little plot so you can skip it if that pairing is not your thing.

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               It was like an itch burning in his soul, haunting and pushing his tender grasp on sanity to its breaking point, a Stygian urge that would devour his mind if he couldn’t act on it, if he couldn’t sooth the restless craving that threatened to overwhelm his very being. Well, that’s not how Sharky himself would have described it. His version would sound something more like “it’s like when your asshole really itches and you aren’t supposed to scratch it because you’re in public.” Flames. Fire. He wanted it, no – he needed it. He flicked his fingers together rapidly, snapping thumb against middle finger over and over in a popsnappopsnappopsnap of nervous movement, hoping against hope that the flick of flesh against flesh might somehow prompt a spark.

               “Come here, Sharky,” Rook said in a beleaguered tone. “I have something for you, but you have to promise me you won’t let it get out of control. You can watch it, and you can play with it, but it stays on the table, understood?” Sharky nodded enthusiastically. He hadn’t gotten to interact with his first love – fire – in over a month and he knew they would be down here for years. Bunkers were not a place for fire.

               “I promise,” Sharky blurted, not really paying attention to what he had just agreed to, instead hopping happily in place as they stepped into the abandoned art studio to see a lit candle sitting innocently on a table.

               “How’d you light it, Dep?”

               “Don’t worry about that,” Rook said dryly. “If you blow it out before you’re done, let me know. I’ll arrange to have it relit.”

               “What, Dep, don’t trust me?”

               “Do I not trust a pyromaniac arsonist who burned down a trailer park, half a state park and parboiled at least forty Eden’s Gate soldiers in front of me? No, Sharky, I don’t trust you with a source of flame.” Sharky gave her sad puppy dog eyes, but she had no patience for it, was grouchy. Her back hurt and she needed to take a piss for the fiftieth time that afternoon. She was hungry and Jacob Junior was dancing on her bladder and punching her intestines. Rook turned toward the door. “I gotta pee and I’m going to grab some food. Don’t, er, try not to do anything stupid, please?”

               “You got it, Dep,” Sharky told her, but his eyes weren’t on her. They were instead focused on the dancing flame in front of him. He watched it with fascination, hands on the table, chin resting on his hands, his gray blue eyes lit merrily by the tiny warm flame.

               Sharky really did try not to do anything stupid. He tried. Very hard. But he didn’t see the harm in feeding the little flame a sheet of paper. It licked at the paper hungrily, tearing through it like a starving dog given a steak. The paper blackened, cooled to gray and the little portion of flame that had left the candle to consume the paper died with a trickle of black smoke. What harm, Sharky reasoned, could another piece of paper be? Or better yet, a few pieces of paper? Or what about that smelly flammable liquid they were trying to get rid of bit by bit?

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               “You can stay a little longer and eat with me, pup,” Jacob objected as Rook started to pull away. She had an MRE in her hand.

               “No, I really can’t. I left Sharky with an open flame.” Jacob chuckled.

               “I didn’t know you wanted to make sure we all got slow roasted in the bunker, pup.” Rook shot him a look.

               “I was trying to be nice. The guy has a…thing about fire. I think he had an erection by the time I left the room.” Jacob growled deep and low at that, a jealous look crossing his features. It was Rook’s turn to laugh.

               “The erection was for the fire, dear. And I’m not interested in it, regardless.”

               “Stop talking about my boyfriend’s dick,” John ordered as he walked by with an MRE open on his tray, his lip curled in disgust at the contents.

               “Well, then maybe you should go do something about it,” Rook replied sassily, still making her way toward the exit to go check on Sharky.

               Too late.

               The fire alarm went off with a piercing scream followed shortly by a resounding BOOM.

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               “Well,” Rook said dryly, surveying the scorched metal walls and Sharky’s singed eyebrows, “At least we don’t have to worry about getting rid of the rest of the formaldehyde.” Sharky let out a little cough and patted himself to check for injury. “Are you alright?” she asked, sounding annoyed, at the same time as John said the same, his tone concerned.

               “I’m good, amigos.”

               “You do realize you could have died, right?” Rook asked him. “And you could have killed a bunch of us too?” Sharky looked down sheepishly, scuffing his feet across the ground. John stepped in front of him, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

               “And who’s the one who gave him access to fire? Oh yes, that was you, Dep-you-tee,” he drawled, looking over at Sharky protectively.

               “I was trying to be nice,” Rook told him with a long-suffering tone. John scoffed.

               “Why don’t you leave the flames, and Sharky, to me in future?” he griped.

               “Fine,” Rook told him, beginning to lose her temper, “I will.” In a fit of rage, she threw something at John, who caught it easily. He opened his hand to reveal a shiny silver zippo lighter sitting in his palm. “It’s your responsibility now,” she griped, storming off. “Try not to let him kill us all, John.”

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               “Just be patient,” John told a blindfolded and naked Sharky who was lying on his back on their bed, torso propped up on his elbows, wrists tied to the bedframe to prevent him from getting up. There was the flick of a lighter and Sharky’s erection twitched at the sound, at the scent of lighter fluid, at the soft flickering noise of a tiny flame. He heard movement rustling and then the lighter shutting. Then, abruptly, he felt something liquid and very, very hot dribbling down his chest. Sharky groaned.

               “Oh, oh fuck, what the fuck is that?” he asked, shuddering as John’s hand brushed his cock. John tugged the blindfold off, revealing that he was holding a lit candle in one hand. Sharky immediately tried to reach for it but was caught by the bonds on his wrists. He let out a little noise of frustration.

               “Ah, ah, ah,” John chided him with a mischievous smile. “You get to enjoy it, but you don’t get to control it. That’s my job.” Sharky let out an almost angry-sounding growl from deep in his throat and John’s eyebrows arced upwards. That sound was hot.

               “John, you better give me that fuckin’ candle right now,” Sharky ordered, cock dribbling precum in his excitement.

               “This candle?” John asked, tipping it and pouring more hot wax over Sharky’s chest.

               “I – oh fuck,” Sharky purred out as the hot liquid crawled down his skin and hardened. “John, please, please, I need it.”

               “You need the heat?” John prompted.

               “Yes,” Sharky told him, eyes pleading.

               “The warmth,” John narrated, eyes meeting Sharky’s as he dripped a little more wax onto him.

               “Yes!”

               “The burn,” he flicked the candle’s flame briefly across Sharky’s chest. The pyromaniac’s hips snapped up in arousal, his mouth open and panting for the flame. John couldn’t find it in himself to be jealous of flames because the lust on Sharky’s face was satisfying enough for them both. Careful to keep control of the candle and not tip it, John held the flickering flame close to Sharky’s lap as he leaned down and swallowed Sharky’s cock in one smooth motion. Sharky cried out hoarsely, pumping his hips up into John’s mouth. John had plenty of experience sucking guys off, but Sharky’s rambunctious jabbing was too much even for him. He backed off with a little gag, the candle tipping to the side, dumping more hot wax on Sharky’s belly, running down around the base of his cock and making him groan.

               “Fuck it,” John muttered, and he reached for the bottle of cheap whiskey he had found just for this. He had intended for this session to last longer, but Sharky was already getting out of control, was already leaking rivulets of precum all over himself now that John had pulled his mouth off his cock. John poured the whiskey into a wide metal bowl and extinguished the candle in it. The effect, of course, was that the bowl lit merrily on fire, burning slowly and brightly. Sharky let out another wild growl, hips snapping up into air as he stared at the purple-blue flames. John dumped lube into his hand and stroked his own erect cock, pushing Sharky’s legs up so his ankles were at his ears, sinking in with a little pleasured gasp.

               Sharky jerked his wrist out of one of the soft restraints and, to John’s horror, dipped his fingers into the whiskey. Unfazed, Sharky let the liquid and flame dance along his hand, dripping down to his tattoo, engulfing inked fire with real flame. John kept up a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of Sharky while also keeping a very close eye on the extremely flammable bedsheets just inches beneath Sharky’s flame-covered arm.

               “Don’t worry, Johnny boy,” Sharky told him, voice husky and low, eyes dilated with pleasure, “I’ve got it,” he whispered roughly, watching the fire reflected in John’s eyes and finding sudden revelation in blue irises the same color and intensity as the flames dancing merrily on his arm. John stroked Sharky in time to his own thrusts and in only a few minutes, just as the flames on Sharky’s arm were beginning to flicker out as the alcohol was consumed, they came together, Sharky with a tearing cry, head thrown back as he looked desperately at John’s face. “Thank you,” he ground out, “thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said over and over, a litany as he watched the bowl of flames slowly flicker away.

               John leaned down and kissed Sharky passionately, their tongues battling as he slid from inside the pyromaniac, reveling in their joint warmth.

               “Now that was more fun that nearly burning the bunker down, right?” Sharky chuckled.

               “Usually when I cum around fire I’m flying solo, so yes, that was…yes.” John laughed quietly, kissing Sharky again and undoing the restraint from his other wrist. “We can’t do that often…but…I figured it was better than no access to fire at all.”

               “What are you talkin’ about, babe?” Sharky murmured, pulling John back to him and cupping his jaw with a hand that still smelled vaguely of whiskey. “I’ve got all the fire I need in your eyes,” he told John, who smiled, reddening a bit at the sudden and uncharacteristic affection. Sharky was usually more reserved about his feelings toward John. “You really, uh,” Sharky grinned, showing white teeth and a mischievous look, “You really light my fire.” They both laughed at the terrible pun and laid down side by side watching the last of the flames in the bowl consume the whiskey and flicker to nothing.

[ilickswords]

I want to do more with fleshing, both for normal flow artist “setting myself on fire is really cool” reasons,

But also for far more insidious reason

I want to use the flames along my body to hypnotize someone.

“Look at my hand” I’d say and force them to stare deep into the fire flicking across the palm of my hand. I’d have them look just close enough to feel the heat floating off of the fire. Let the flames dance across their mind, warm, gentle, and calm. I’d have them keep staring at the flames as they spread up my arm onto my shoulder. As the flames keep spreading, my pet would become less and less focused on the outside world. There would only be me and my flame. Eventually, their gaze would be pulled up into my eyes where the flames are reflected. They’d feel the warmth of fire that had at that points spread across my whole body. Their focus would be pulled down into the flames as they just go fuzzy, nothing else matters, nothing else even exist to them. The fire is all they need.

Warmer

Softer

They won’t be able to feel if it’s me or the flame tracing along their cheek.

It doesn’t matter

All that matters is that it’s there.

[exo-rated-fics]

Do you have any temperature kink fics? Love yah! Thanks!

Thank you! <3 We love you too!

Ice (Taohun)

I know there was also one that involved two toys (a red and blue one) that heated up or cooled down. I scoured the internet trying to find it, but I had no luck! I’m sorry that this one was the only one I could find. Do any of you guys know of any others or the one I’m talking about?

-Admin K

Here’s one!!

You’re Hot Then You’re Cold (Kaixing)

~Admin Q

This is all I could find:

Final. - (TaoHun)

~Admin Haley

We do have a tag for wax play, so you can try that. Also A Bicycle Isn’t Just for Riding (Because Sometimes, It Rides You Too) (Luhan/Everyone) has fireplay, and quick on the shoot (lukai) apparently has temp. play, though I haven’t read.

~Admin Squelch