❝ 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 ❞
◤ 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 . 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 . 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚞𝚜𝚎 . ◥
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Russia
seen from Russia

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Denmark

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Russia

seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
❝ 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 ❞
◤ 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 . 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 . 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚞𝚜𝚎 . ◥
blindfold, but reverse 🤔 ; @crimsontyrant 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; selectively accepting
He means the world to her, that much she can say for certain. She can say with every fragment of her inkwell heart, every drop of almost-not-quite-blot which flows through her veins. He, her dream, her wish made real. That is why she cradles his hands, why she holds him so close, resting tender kisses upon his lips with each hitch and gasp and shiver, with each tremor. When he lets her lead, when he is so willing to let her have him, control him, she can only make herself soft for him. Tender in a way she can be for no other. Whatever he asks of her, she willingly gives, surrendering all she has to him.
She is surprised when, as hands drift into comfortable routines, he stops her, not because he doesn’t want this, but because he wants something new. Something different. And she doesn’t mind waiting, listening to him. To his explanation for what he wanted, what he desired tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, but tonight.
Tonight he would be, for her, as Psyche was to Eros. To be blind to the love god who would turn her tears to stardust, and create Joy. And they wouldn’t use candles and darkness, because he wasn’t ready for that. A blindfold, that would suffice. The thick ribbon she often wore as part of her dorm uniform, a soft, worn, cotton, dark enough to keep out the light. She offered to cover his eyes, to block out the light for him, so long as he trusted her. And so long as she trusted herself. After two, nearly three years together, she wanted to believe that they had such a bond.
That love could not exist without trust, without joy.
When he agreed, turning away from her, she couldn’t help but watch the way he still tensed up like a rabbit. The way his hands balled into fists, how he sat ramrod straight. She whispered sweet words into his rose colored hair, offered him a thousand kisses upon the top of his head, his shoulders. She gently, lovingly, warmly rubbed his shoulders, his back, sparring no amount of constant comfort and reassurances. This was, after all, a big step for them. When she brought the ribbon up, their makeshift blindfold, she listened to his sharp inhale, felt her own heart clench with worry, with sympathy. Promised him a thousand times that they could stop, that they didn’t have to go this far. But he persuaded her with his shaky voice, and she couldn’t help but acquiesce to his request. She tied the ribbon tight enough that it would hold, should hold, but not enough to cause harm.
Only then did her hands fall to her lap. Only then did she sit back and listen and watch, watch the way his muscles jumped, how his chest rose and fell just a little faster. She was still there, she assured, voice gentle, kind, so obviously full of love. She waited and watched and let him find comfort. But his hands, they darted, grasping, yanking, jerking off the blindfold after only a few scarce minutes. He didn’t turn to face her, but she knew, knew without a doubt that he didn’t, wasn’t ready for her to touch him. Wasn’t ready for this.
❝ Why do you doubt so much, Riddle? ❞ She isn’t angry, not even a little bit upset. She’s curious, that much is true. But she reaches for the blindfold, laying it across her lap, warm where it had touched his skin, damp, where tears might have been soaked up or sweat. ❝ You can’t doubt so much, Riddle. ❞
What's up devilman? Eat any good demons lately?
“Most of my diet is demon flesh now~” He chuckles. “But yeah, yeah I have.”
👋 // if u want idk
Send 👋 for my muse to spank yours
Claws dug into the sand as his tail idly wagged. He starred at the distance in silence, mostly thinking of what came to pass. However, the other man’s voice stirred him back from reality. Though he didn’t hear what he has said exactly, Greg was standing in a fashion which woke mischief in the large demonic being and he ended up whipping his behind with a swift movement of his tail.
(๑♡3♡๑) from Charles-Henri~
send (๑♡3♡๑) and my muse will reveal how they would want to be seduced by your muse.
“Eeeh... he’s not really trying and it’s already working. Though... uh... lingerie would probably bring me on my knees.” He coughs awkwardly.
(๑♡⌓♡๑)
Send (๑♡⌓♡๑) and my muse will describe how they would seduce yours.
“Dick pics”
🔞
Send 🔞 for a NSFW headcanon.
Akira is solely a top but could switch for the right people. The only thing is that he’s hasn’t put so much as a finger in there so he would require a lot of training and lube for it to work and possibly do it in his demonform for it to be less painful.