Writer After Dark

I’m a 22 year old freak

[writer-after-dark]

Horny questionably active side blog. I LOVE submissive men and have a few other kinks I pick and chose from as well. Free to interact with but won’t message or send non anon asks as this is a side blog. I use they/them pronouns so if you wanna talk to me you’ll make that work same with titles.

[arizuume]

[roysflowers]

no more daddy. in 2026 all men whimper on floor pathetic

[deadn0w]

🗣️📢 PUT THAT MAN IN LACE UNDERWEAR.

[begaylickrocks]

When you touch a boy’s face and he leans into it like a cat, reblog if you agree

[greelin]

“why’s he whimpering like that” do you ask why the sun shines? why birds sing? why you can simply pick a grape off of a vine and eat it?

[invincifishhh-deactivated202605]

I think I burnt myself out today but I try drawing a little everyday😭 the beard warmed up to me

[writer-after-dark]

Finding out you’re probably aromantic but not asexual is kinda hot. Like I’m here to have friends and fuck hard let’s go

[karlamybeloved]

Hiii!! I love your work could you please make a submissive bottom main timeline Mark Grayson fanfic!!!!!! I would really really appreciate it and could it be around season 3?

mark needed a new bed anyways, with how it rocked against his bedroom walls and creaked every time you pushed forward against his body. his hands gripped the bedsheets, eyes watery and the way you kept making his body more overwhelmed with the movement of your hips. if anything, marks amazed that he’s still conscious enough to look at your face.

“wait, please no. please, fuck..” mark mumbled as he tried to pull away, but the weight of your body forced him to stay in place. “no what? weren’t you the one who was trying to get into my pants? now you’re backing out?” you scoffed and looked down at mark, analyzing his face. you knew you were pushing him to the edge, all you wanted was to see how much more stimulating your alien boyfriend could take. he had more then enough cum to fill you to the brim with his babies, so why waste it. mark gave up trying to push his cock deeper inside of you long ago, growing more weak as you continued riding and edging him. the soft whimpers and whines that fell from his lips were heavenly, like music in the background.

the amount of cum you dragged out of mark could populate an entire country. there was so much pouring out of you, spilling on to the sheets you’d might as well replace entirely tomorrow. he ruined other men for you, the way mark listened without needing to repeat yourself, or how he’d claim he couldn’t go for another round then releases ten times more cum then the last round. the best part of seeing him beneath you was the way he slowly lost himself inside of you, how his eyes would grow more and more big throughout the session. you had to gently hit his chest, checking to see if he was even alive. “hey, hey you still breathing grayson?” smacking his cheek gently, he turned back over to face you, a goofy smile on his face. “hi, hi?” mark was breathing heavily as he tried to lift his head up, “i love you.” was all that came out of his lips as he rested his head back down, failing to lift it up enough to give you a small kiss. you smile and leaned down to place a gently kiss on his lips, before bouncing once more, moans leaving his mouth.

“almost there, i can’t do it. i can’t do it anymore.” you roll your eyes, marks pleading wasn’t going to make you stop milking every last drop. “yes you can and you will, now be a good boy for me, okay? can you do that for me?” you gently lifted up his chin, forcing mark to look into your eyes as he nodded. his hands weakly made their way to your hips, looking for something, anything to keep his grip on. you brushed a few stray hairs out of his face, the sweat leaking down his forehead made his hair stick to his face. marks back hurt, he couldn’t even feel his lower body besides his cock that pulsed deep inside you. he felt the twitch inside your warmth, how he desperately wanted to keep stuffing you full, but felt like he couldn’t or he’d die.

you laid down next to mark, he was so out of it he could only giggle and breath heavily. he would buck his hips at the slightest wind that blew through his window. mark would shiver at every touch you’d leave on his body, the hickies stained his neck and chest. the purple and yellow markings plastered all over him made it clear to others, he’s spoken for.

…

“do i really act like that? i could never!”

a/n: first mark smut pls don’t hit me

[vendetta06]

they invented Leon Kennedy so we can all be perverts together

[vendetta06]

[maybutter]

Haiii, can i request a really lazy reader and a sub Ysn who’s love language is acts of service? I LOVE your depiction of yanderes btw <333

Awww, this is so adorable, anon!!

Yandere! Chef x lazy! Fem! Reader

CW : fluff, worship, so much love, cunnilingus, riding, p in v.

- So... You're one lazy bastard. You work, go home, and just lay on the bed after changing into your pajamas before letting the cushions swallow you whole.

- thankfully you have yan! Chef around! He's a very devoted man, really. A famous head chef, but a sweetheart to you. He's mean with everyone else! But at home, he's as affectionate as a kitten begging for neck scratches.

- yan! Chef is a head cook in a five star hotel. He works precisely from 8 AM to 4 PM, specializing in western food, but he's good with anything.

- yan! Chef, who comes to the bedroom wearing an apron and holding a glass of fresh vegetable and fruit juice he always made for you. He mixed them with some milk to elevate the taste without adding sugar, and it's always a hit because you always drink it all up.

- He'll be petting your hair, cooing about how perfect you are and that you're allowed to be tired when he's around. He'll always take care of you. He told you to take a bath first, because the beef stew he's making is still simmering.

- Once you're out of the bathroom, the smell of delicious stew, green beans, and cauliflower rice.

- He's already waiting with the cutest smile ever. When you came over, you cupped his cheek and gives him one, soft kiss. He feels like he's flying, and he insists on you eating first.

- He works very hard to get into his position. He received praises, money, or even criticism, but at the end of the day, only your opinion matters. Especially when you eat and thank him for everything that he has done to help you.

- It's not like you don't help him. You do. You go grocery shopping with him, gym, or even cook with him when it's weekends and the two of you have nothing to do.

- He just wants to make your life easier. He doesn't come from a rich family, so he knows how complicated it is to have a tight-scheduled job. He can now be lenient on himself because he has all the experience as a head cook now.

- even during sex, he's still as gentle as he can be. He'll do anything you say. If you feel horny while gaming, you don't even need to stop playing, just tell him, and he'll be there worshipping you and trapping his head between your thighs.

- He's always seeking your approval. Occasionally looking up and rubbing your inner thigh, hoping to hear your soft moans or pets on his head. While his tongue is doing its best to pleasure you.

- And if you ever decide he's doing anything too slow or not adequate enough as you wanted, you can always dominate him. Just pull him up to the bed and pull down his pants. He has his dick already wet and weeping, but he's not prioritising himself, not when he has a beautiful angel like you.

- riding him is the easiest task ever. He'll be letting out the cutest moans ever. His large, calloused hands gripping on your hips. His lips all over yours as you pulled him into a kiss.

- he's a certified good boy. Despite everything, he'll be the one doing aftercare and wiping everything with baby wipes. He'll bring you some dessert, perhaps tiramisu or cut fruit, before joining you back to bed to watch the TV together with you.

A/N : sorry for the late response anon! Hope this is good enough huhu....

[writer-after-dark]

I’m feeling icky and I need this

[dizzyhunger]

i need boy blood

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hottest thing a man can be is infertile

[b100dym0ntague-deactivated20260]

the taste of blood must have a nice flavor when the odds are in your favor

[sphingidaes]

"hurt people hurt people" yes mistress. anything for you mistress.

[sphingidaes]

I Will Die In Combat For You Mistress

[satorussugarbaby]

can you do a submissive toji fanfic where he gets overstimulated as FUCK <33......

omg yes 🤤

smut mdni

you have no idea how you convinced toji of all people to let you handcuff him to the bed. but you did. and here he was, wrists held together and stuck around the headboard with fuzzy black handcuffs he usually uses on you.

and fuck did he underestimate your ability to dominate.

“you okay baby?” you coo at him, trying not to smile too wide at his expression. he just looked so desperate with his head thrown back and his cock leaking on his stomach.

“‘m fine baby…” he rasped, eyes screwing shut when your pussy envelopes his aching cock for the nth time tonight. he’s already finished 4 times tonight, how much longer were you planning on doing this to him?

you raise a brow, amused but not convinced “hmm you don’t look fine,” you roll your hips once, teasing, and his cock twitches inside you.

“i’m fine mama, just tired,” he mumbles, head lolling to the side from exhaustion, “you said you’d uncuff me when you cum.”

“and i will. but i haven’t came yet, have i toji?”

“that’s because you’ve been edging yourself.”

you grin, wide and wicked, “yesss,” you drawl, rolling your hips again, twice this time which spurs a broken moan from him, “fuck toji, you always feel so good. cum for me one more time and i’ll finish.”

your hips move steadily now, savoring every sound and twitch you get from him. his hips jerk up as his body seeks more stimulation. “fu- fuck–” he moans low, “baby…please mama, i can’t– shit–” his hands clench into fists, metal chain of the cuffs straining against the bed.

gods he looks perfect like this. your big, strong boyfriend a total fucking mess under you. your pretty sure you can make him whimper if you tried hard enough. you keep riding him. lazy, but enough to make toji moan.

“can’t what baby?” you breath out, hypnotized by the way his bottom lip trembles when he opens his mouth to speak and he almost immediately closes it when that sound you’ve been waiting for threatened to slip out.

you ride him harder, faster. “no,” you pant, “no don’t you dare try to stop that shit.”

“ba– baby, please–” his voice cuts off into a filthy whimper as you speed up. “please….please what ‘ji?” you slide your hands to his chest, leaning down to kiss his neck as your pace gets sloppier.

“o–ohh fuck” his hips jerk up once, twice before spilling inside you for the 5th time tonight, “fuckfuckfuck.”

you grin wide, reaching down to rub your clit, “good fuckin’ boy,” you moan, cumming hard not even 30 seconds after.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

sonar x fem!reader - dispatch

warnings: 18+ mdni, coworker!reader, just pure smut, knotting, surprise knotting in fact (for both parties), couch sex, semi-public sex, hint of orgasm control, sonar's not yours, creampie, begging, unprotected sex, piv, cuddling after sex but you're really emotionally constipated about it

wc: 1.6k

summary: in which you and sonar have been hooking up after work for long enough now that you're pretty sure there aren't anymore surprises to be expected. you're very wrong.

"Oh shit," he gasps, the fur on his neck brushing against the sensitive skin inside your thighs.

Legs propped up on his shoulders like this, you can feel every thick inch of him press inside. Your knees nearly hit your chest with each roll of his hips. He's still got the stupid tie on, knot tugged loose and pooling in the dip between your breasts.

It's maddening how good he is.

"Dude, I'm so fucking close," Sonar groans, face all slack and open and fucked out.

He's frustratingly handsome like this, with his ears drooping and eyes glazed over in pleasure. The pink skin of his muzzle is flushed brighter red. Makes you want to dig your teeth in and suck.

"You'd better be, Mal is going to be back soon," you try not to moan--you're already stroking his cock in a way, his ego doesn't need to be getting any too--but it's hard when his tip bullies against that spot inside on every thrust. He's not even trying. That's the worst part. "And don't call me 'dude' while we're fucking."

You're close too, but you won't say it. He gets you off every time without fail. You won't tell him that either. It's easy to hear the response in his droning voice, "Harvard grads always finish the job."

But you keep coming over to his place after shifts anyway because it's true. That doesn't mean you need anyone else knowing though. Whether that's out of sheer embarrassment or something deeper, more possessive, you choose not to examine.

No need to think about him any further than just good dick. Certainly it's got nothing to do with how the fur at the corners of his milky eyes is softer than the rest. How it trails down his bare chest that's dusted in finer hair. How his shoulders are freckled and he only finishes coffee if you've made him the cup. How his ears flush pinker when he sneaks a glance your way on patrol--

"Uh oh," the low streak of panic in his voice rockets you back to reality.

"What?!" you ask, but right as the word leaves your lips in a puff of air, you feel it.

There's something firm pushing up against your folds, wider than his cock and throbbing against you. Sonar's hips stutter on the next thrust and there's a wet pop as your walls are stretched further than you've ever thought possible. If you weren't already soaking his couch you would never have been able to take it, but with another shaky rut forward, he's locked inside.

It's an almost nauseating feeling. Fuller than ever before. Drool pools in your mouth and he lets your legs fall, notching on waist, to lean forward and lick the trail from your lips.

"Don't freak out," he mumbles, tongue sliding against the backs of your teeth.

He tries to pull out once more and the knot--your brain so helpfully supplies the word--tugs at your entrance.

A hiss escapes you both simultaneously. The bulbous base of his cock pulses. You can feel it in your belly, how deep he's stuck inside.

"What is that?" you bite at his tongue softly until he pulls back.

And if you thought he looked pussy drunk before, holy fuck--

Sonar's jaw is hanging slack, the tip of his pink tongue lolling out past those fangs. His ears twitch every time you tighten up on him and his breath comes in pants. Hands stroke and grab at your sides, your hips, work their way up to your tits and back down.

"Sorry," he huffs, wincing when you wriggle under him. "This hasn't happened since like high school."

He's making intoxicating little noises. High pitched bursts of sound that trail off into whimpers you'd sooner expect out of fucking Waterboy. Your clit gets stiffer, burns with every moan that leaves him.

"Victor," you burry your fingers in the fur between his ears and pull. "Did you just knot me?"

An uncomfortably maniacal giggle bubbles up from his chest at the use of his real name, but it quickly devolves into a series of hisses and gasps as you bear down on him, nudging his ass forward with your heels to feel him that much deeper.

You want to be mad about it, furious and unaffected but this is quite possibly the hottest thing that's ever happened to you.

"You gotta stop doing that shit," he gasps, forehead resting on yours. Glassy eyes on your face. "It's gonna make me cum, ah, and I can't pull out--"

"So don't cum then," the grin on your face is not as sweet as you meant it to be, though Sonar's too far gone to tell. "But I'm going to."

Your fingers drop down, drawing tight, fast circles on your clit. It's number three of the night, and the two of you are on a time crunch, so this can't take very long.

Bummer, but you're definitely going to get him to do this again without contemplating the consequences or meaning of it at all. Not going to think about how your blood feels thick in your veins, how his throbbing length is so perfect stuck inside that you'd let him lock you on his cock in front of the whole fucking team rather than feel him pull out.

Heat starts to build immediately, beginning where your hand rubs at your pussy and radiating out in waves. Above you, Sonar is reduced to a furry, whining mess, but by the way his belly flutters and tenses against you, the panting in your ear, you can tell he's trying to listen.

Trying to be good.

It's that thought that really gets you.

Has you squeezing his length and shaking under his weight. It's getting unbearably wet between your thighs as your orgasm washes over you. Your slick must be bleeding permanent stains into his trousers. It's the best high you've ever had in your life.

You'll never be able to live without it again.

Sonar sounds like he's in fucking tears, growling in your neck with the whites of his fangs pressed up to the skin there. Underneath the stuttering breaths and feral whimpering you can hear him mumble.

"Fuck, please, I gotta--let me, please."

You're pretty sure this man has never asked nicely for a single thing in his entire life. Probably has never asked for a single thing in his entire life. Just used to taking and taking and taking whatever strikes his fucked up fancy.

It's good practice, you think, to encourage this kind of behavior. That it's also a convenient excuse to get pumped full against your better judgment is neither here nor there.

"Go on then," you whisper back, nudging him till you can get his mouth back on yours, trace your tongue over his incisors. "Fill me up, Victor."

You can feel it when he lets go, the pulsing of his cock stretches you even further. His hips grind up against your pussy, the thick, coarse hair between his legs ghosts over your clit and sends little aftershocks of pleasure through oversensitive skin. He's making those pretty, desperate sounds again, and you suspect some in a frequency you can't even hear.

It's intoxicating. Your fucking cross faded on him all around you, painting you inside with ropes of searing cum that sits warm and heavy in your belly.

With one last surge of strength, the world turns as he yanks you up towards his chest, gets his knees up under himself and flops back. The springs creak as he settles, your chest pressed up against the hastily undone buttons of his shirt and blazer. Sweat slicked fur peaks through and tickles your breasts.

"Holy shit," you swear this time and a rumble of agreement reverberates from him through your ribs.

Neatly manicured nails scratch softly down your bare back and his wet muzzle noses against the top of your head. You're sure if you could look up, his ears would be cocked at opposite angles and flicking happily.

It's not something you've done before together. This whole after bit. Usually you're quick to give yourself a cursory wipe down and suit back up for the walk home with not much more said than, 'thanks' and when you're feeling especially generous a 'see ya tomorrow.'

But this...is nice.

Nicer than you've ever let yourself think it would be.

Not that you think about doing this.

Or him. After. When he's not around.

It's easier too. Your muscles are lax and soupy, so you seem to melt into him. Sonar's scent is stronger with your nose buried in his pelt. All salt and night air. It's dreamy in the sense that you feel it must be a fantasy.

"Hey," he mumbles against your ear and it's the simplest thing in the world to follow the hand guiding your head up.

Lean into his lips, kissing lazily as the steady throb of his length still locked inside washes over you. He's softened too--not between his legs--but everywhere else. You hum at the way he lets you move him, guiding his head to tilt further so you can lick your way down his throat. Once you work through the fur, you can run your teeth against the soft pink skin underneath.

Sonar shivers in your arms.

"So," you start, giving a little experimental roll of your hips that has him groaning all over again. "When exactly is this going to go down?"

"Uh, not sure," he has the decency to look a little sheepish, nose and ears growing a darker shade of pink. "Last time it took like an hour or so--"

"An hour?!"

Your hands stop in mid air, halfway to wringing the neck you were just tonguing at. Both your eyes shoot towards the door on the opposite wall.

The metal sound of a key in the lock echoes through the room.