![[[Original Art @ Kelaruj]]
[[Color Edit @ K-13]]
“It seems you are at the end of your plateau phase now, Jake. Your heartbeat’s cadence is very elevated. As is your core temperature. My sensors can discern the increase of the contraction of the muscles at the base of your penis. Also on the digits currently inserted in your rectum. Your breathing pattern is one I could easily correlate with panic. Are you panicked, Jake. You shouldn’t be.”
It tastes like metal, far from cold on his tongue by now, but smooth, soft against the muscle. That doesn’t prevent it from moving though, enthusiastically slicking the metal digits that keep thrusting between his lips - perfect in sync and number to the one’s stretching him. He can almost hear the wet sounds in the midst of his lonely ragged breaths, of his own heart beat echoing in his ears. The slurping sound around metal makes him blush further, but it is nothing due to embarrassment now: he is too far gone to be properly ashamed. Maybe later.
“Your vocalizations are becoming more urgent, Jake. Out of control. Can you control them Jake, I am so very curious. Your seminal fluid keeps leaking profusely. Is it a desirable feeling, Jake. Should I go faster.”
But now, as the synthesized voice spouts weirdly clinical terms and observations, so close to his ear, he can’t do much but pant and slurp and moan in such an utterly honest and primal way he barely recognizes his own voice.
His hazed mind clings to the robotic version of Dirk’s voice, void of inflection - and still so very alluring, in ways he doesn’t even want - is able - to dwell on.
His cock pulses, his hips kept still by unyielding hands, he can’t move, he can’t thrust into the robotic hand that strokes his cock, he can’t push back and down into pistoning fingers. He can’t move his head without the stinging on his scalp, he can’t swallow the saliva that keeps flooding his mouth. He’s trapped in a metal cage of an embrace, totally at the mercy of the robotic representation of his best bro, and he just can’t doesn’t want to think.
He can’t do anything else but feel and pulse, pant and twitch. Grunt and moan.
So he does.
“I will take the rumbling modulation of your voice as a yes then.”](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m89a63n99a1ql5odeo1_500.png)
[[Original Art @ Kelaruj]]
[[Color Edit @ K-13]]
“It seems you are at the end of your plateau phase now, Jake. Your heartbeat’s cadence is very elevated. As is your core temperature. My sensors can discern the increase of the contraction of the muscles at the base of your penis. Also on the digits currently inserted in your rectum. Your breathing pattern is one I could easily correlate with panic. Are you panicked, Jake. You shouldn’t be.”
It tastes like metal, far from cold on his tongue by now, but smooth, soft against the muscle. That doesn’t prevent it from moving though, enthusiastically slicking the metal digits that keep thrusting between his lips - perfect in sync and number to the one’s stretching him. He can almost hear the wet sounds in the midst of his lonely ragged breaths, of his own heart beat echoing in his ears. The slurping sound around metal makes him blush further, but it is nothing due to embarrassment now: he is too far gone to be properly ashamed. Maybe later.
“Your vocalizations are becoming more urgent, Jake. Out of control. Can you control them Jake, I am so very curious. Your seminal fluid keeps leaking profusely. Is it a desirable feeling, Jake. Should I go faster.”
But now, as the synthesized voice spouts weirdly clinical terms and observations, so close to his ear, he can’t do much but pant and slurp and moan in such an utterly honest and primal way he barely recognizes his own voice.
His hazed mind clings to the robotic version of Dirk’s voice, void of inflection - and still so very alluring, in ways he doesn’t even want - is able - to dwell on.
His cock pulses, his hips kept still by unyielding hands, he can’t move, he can’t thrust into the robotic hand that strokes his cock, he can’t push back and down into pistoning fingers. He can’t move his head without the stinging on his scalp, he can’t swallow the saliva that keeps flooding his mouth. He’s trapped in a metal cage of an embrace, totally at the mercy of the robotic representation of his best bro, and he just can’t doesn’t want to think.
He can’t do anything else but feel and pulse, pant and twitch. Grunt and moan.
So he does.
“I will take the rumbling modulation of your voice as a yes then.”
![||Original Art @ BuffDaddyJohn||
||Color Edit @ K-13||
“The sink’s not going to hold.”
“I’m not settin’ you on the sink, asswipe.”
“Why are we even doing it in here, Bro. The bathroom is too small, what even - is this a christening all the rooms in the apartment thing, is the crawl space next?”
“…Dave.”
“We have a perfectly good bed to bounce on. And the futon, even if last time I almost rolled off it -this is like, canned sardines sex. That’s the reason for the oil in there. For them to grind together and have slick fishy orgies. That’s kinda disturbing. I legit grossed myself out now.”
“…Dave.”
“What.”
“…yer hard.”
“…”
“And twitchin’.”
“…”
“And blushin’.”
“…Shut up.”
[[Obvious statements are an excellent distraction maneuver. ]]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m81u6gI7Hx1ql5odeo1_500.png)
||Original Art @ BuffDaddyJohn||
||Color Edit @ K-13||
“The sink’s not going to hold.”
“I’m not settin’ you on the sink, asswipe.”
“Why are we even doing it in here, Bro. The bathroom is too small, what even - is this a christening all the rooms in the apartment thing, is the crawl space next?”
“…Dave.”
“We have a perfectly good bed to bounce on. And the futon, even if last time I almost rolled off it -this is like, canned sardines sex. That’s the reason for the oil in there. For them to grind together and have slick fishy orgies. That’s kinda disturbing. I legit grossed myself out now.”
“…Dave.”
“What.”
“…yer hard.”
“…”
“And twitchin’.”
“…”
“And blushin’.”
“…Shut up.”
[[Obvious statements are an excellent distraction maneuver. ]]
![[Original Art] by BuffDaddyJohn
[Color Edit] by K-13
It’s as though you reached into the mirror - it’s as if the cold smooth surface gave way and let you met skin that is your own but isn’t.
The rush of touch, when you have been alone in this state of not really being, fuels a longing you didn’t even knew you harbored.
And in a way you’re still alone.
But you aren’t.
There is no need for words as you allow your mind to cease its endless analysis, tired of grasping for answers and coming up with nothing but hands full of nothingness.
Inquiries and answers that give you no peace in its truthfulness.
There is no need to question because you are too thirsty for some kind of companionship that you can touch - even if only a trick.
Maybe you’re going mad.
But as noses brush, as fingers touch the side of your neck, as gentle as they are rough skinned, you really don’t mind the lack of sanity.
The breath that tickles your lips makes them tingle - your mind chimes in saying there is no need to hide because you cannot hide from yourself - the metronome of your heart picks up, pace runs high in cadence, strong in nature - you can feel the blood you do not have rushing through your veins and you grasp this feeling because it seems like ages have passed since you last felt anything at all.
You feel alive in your death - so fuck everything.
There are words whispered against your moist lips - condensation from your combined breaths, hot and real because reality is a matter of perception.
You’re not alone because you have yourself - there is no need to stone your expression, to rule in your breaths, and you heart and your hands that come to a solid waist, gripping the fabric that gives way to your grasping fingers, as a tongue slides softly on the corner of your mouth.
‘No one knows you better than I do.’](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m6v6gmuWof1ql5odeo1_500.png)
[Original Art] by BuffDaddyJohn
[Color Edit] by K-13
It’s as though you reached into the mirror - it’s as if the cold smooth surface gave way and let you met skin that is your own but isn’t.
The rush of touch, when you have been alone in this state of not really being, fuels a longing you didn’t even knew you harbored.
And in a way you’re still alone.
But you aren’t.
There is no need for words as you allow your mind to cease its endless analysis, tired of grasping for answers and coming up with nothing but hands full of nothingness.
Inquiries and answers that give you no peace in its truthfulness.
There is no need to question because you are too thirsty for some kind of companionship that you can touch - even if only a trick.
Maybe you’re going mad.
But as noses brush, as fingers touch the side of your neck, as gentle as they are rough skinned, you really don’t mind the lack of sanity.
The breath that tickles your lips makes them tingle - your mind chimes in saying there is no need to hide because you cannot hide from yourself - the metronome of your heart picks up, pace runs high in cadence, strong in nature - you can feel the blood you do not have rushing through your veins and you grasp this feeling because it seems like ages have passed since you last felt anything at all.
You feel alive in your death - so fuck everything.
There are words whispered against your moist lips - condensation from your combined breaths, hot and real because reality is a matter of perception.
You’re not alone because you have yourself - there is no need to stone your expression, to rule in your breaths, and you heart and your hands that come to a solid waist, gripping the fabric that gives way to your grasping fingers, as a tongue slides softly on the corner of your mouth.
‘No one knows you better than I do.’
In which Stridercest musings get outta hand
[[language, sexual content, blueballs - and typos. hella typos]]
Amee: You had too much angst in your fics
you need to read of happy striders who can’t get enough of each other.
Dave trying to be assertive with his kisses but flushing as soon as he feels bros tongue dragging across his lips
Kat: It could be a thing that happens
ever since Dave kissed Bro the first time on a spur of the moment, fuck the police, yolo moment
Cause that time, Dave pulled back all, yeah, you only live once, mine’s over now, but fuck it was worth it.
Waiting for a beating or a call for strife, or a disgusted face.
But Bro just smiles, grabs his chin and licks his lips vertically.
Before walking away.
It’s all good lil’man
Dave is frozen in place.
Like, was that a yes this is cool if it happens thing or
fuck
So he keeps trying little things, see how Bro reacts at them
But always get flustered and absconds when shit gets hot.
#Kat says stuff
#Stridercest
#should I tag this as rp?
#Probably
#Normal convo turned roleplay
#Amee giving me boners
#nsfw
#mywords
![:[[Original Lineart by Kilehye]]:
:[[Color Edit by K-13]]:
He holds it devotedly, face mere inches away - orange eyes not shielded by shades drinking in the sight presented to him. An undeniable warmth spreads beyond the confines of his chest, gliding down his spine, shimmering fire, making him adjust his position minimally. Closer, rubbing his own half hard dick against him, his own breath itching in his throat with the moan that never comes.
Carmine eyes dart around - to the dark floor riddled with vines, to his own ruffle of feathers, but the moment he feels warm breath on his erection his eyes snap to it - his lips part in a quick intake of air as his eyebrows scrunch together and up - it pulses, Dirk cradles it closer as his lips make the rest of the journey to place an almost chaste kiss on the throbbing cock.
Again, reverent, almost innocent, jaw moving leisurely, smoothly, for lips to caress the heated flesh - bright yellow cum leaking from the member, soiling his glove, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. The kiss ends as he moves back slightly (orange orbs meet red), but it’s not the last one he dotes upon it. It’s merely a prelude to a barrage of them.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m57m5cVMD51ql5odeo1_500.png)
:[[Original Lineart by Kilehye]]:
:[[Color Edit by K-13]]:
He holds it devotedly, face mere inches away - orange eyes not shielded by shades drinking in the sight presented to him. An undeniable warmth spreads beyond the confines of his chest, gliding down his spine, shimmering fire, making him adjust his position minimally. Closer, rubbing his own half hard dick against him, his own breath itching in his throat with the moan that never comes.Carmine eyes dart around - to the dark floor riddled with vines, to his own ruffle of feathers, but the moment he feels warm breath on his erection his eyes snap to it - his lips part in a quick intake of air as his eyebrows scrunch together and up - it pulses, Dirk cradles it closer as his lips make the rest of the journey to place an almost chaste kiss on the throbbing cock.
Again, reverent, almost innocent, jaw moving leisurely, smoothly, for lips to caress the heated flesh - bright yellow cum leaking from the member, soiling his glove, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. The kiss ends as he moves back slightly (orange orbs meet red), but it’s not the last one he dotes upon it. It’s merely a prelude to a barrage of them.
[[Switch]] ::a Durarara drabble:: - for Rukawagf
Fandom: Durarara
Word Count: 1.227
Izaya/Random Businessman
Warnings: dubcon/language/sexual situations/mind games
God, I hope this makes sense. I was gonna go for the pwp drabble and look what the hell happened. This is why I don’t write regularly. XD
This is for Ruka. Happy B-day girl. <3 You are welcome to ask for another ‘cause damn, what the fuck happened here, Jesus Christ.
His mind is an intricate maze, labyrinthine logic, paradoxical wants and needs.
His mind is his own ultimate riddle, ever in evolution – and he watches others with love because this way, he can love parts of himself.
Stacks of gameboards, bind together, working under various sets of rules.
Izaya Orihara is everyone, and thus no one at all. And this multitude of masks is what makes him himself. And this, for him, is a God.
[[Voyeur]] ::a Homestuck Drabble::
It’s creepy. You know it’s creepy, you know you’re creepy - but currently you don’t care.
You just cannot stop staring, as stealthy as you can, pressed against the wall that leads to the corridor.
It’s a transfixing image, and like a sailor seduced by a siren’s song, it ensnares you.
You watch, with morbid fascination as Bro’s hands slide down John’s arched back, you hear the itch on the younger one’s breath as Bro’s feet shift on the ground, creating space between his legs for his hands to move down swiftly and cup that — well, marvelously round choice ass, applying pressure in a nice firm grope that makes the redness in John’s cheeks kick up a notch in the deepness department.
“Plush…” You swear you hear, in the deep baritone voice of the blonde, and you know that tone, you’ve heard it before, but you’re not jealous per se.
“I… Dirk… oh my god...” John’s voice is but a whisper, and he seems torn between surprise and embarrassment - and for as soft as it is, you can clearly hear the undertone that laces his words, that one that says so much more than the words he barely utters.
Even the tips of his ears acquire a beautiful red tint and if you hadn’t been staring so hard you might have missed the way his hips move ever so slightly towards the gloved hands still palming his ass, groping it to the point that there are indentations on his jeans where the fingers squeeze.
He wants it. Oh, it’s so clear, he wants it so bad, and that motion is clearly caught by Bro - his lips twist into a satisfied grin, teasing and if his eyes were not covered by his trademark shades, you know you would see the flaring of desire and amusement, all at once, in them.
You’re not jealous per se, you’re not, because this is far too hot for you to care. You don’t want Bro just for yourself, you don’t want John that way either - you just want them both, like that, just how they are right now.
And then again… you want Bro to manhandle you into touching John, into making little moans leave his lips. ‘Use me.’ Or screams. ‘Bro, use me, I want this too.’ Keens that will bounce off the walls and come back to you, auditory simulation as efficient as its tactile counterpart - rousing, stirring up the fire of lust in all the participants of this devious activity.
You want in on the action. Oh, fuck, yes. But… maybe not this time. You’re content to watch, just this time.
Just this time, this is enough.
But you cannot help the word that echoes in a deviant little tease, as your eyes cannot avert the scene that unfolds before you. That word that is just as much of a promise as it is a desire…
#nsfw
#nsfw just in case
#BroJohn
#DirkJohn
#Dear God what am I doing
#+ollies out into the sun+
#mywords
[Drabble Time] Shizaya
Fandom: Durarara
Pairing: Shizaya
Warnings: dubcon?/language/sexual situations
Part 1/1
This was done for Sagta. <3
Constricted. Hot. Panting.
Calculating. Manipulative.
Teased.
Happy B-day Izaya!
- No setting, no explanation, no regrets.
#mywords
#Shizaya
#There Amee
#It's all Ruka's fault
#cause she was the one that talked about spanking
Kat wrote me a quick Eames x Arthur Drabble on Gchat
-sob sob-she really loves me -SOB- it’s just so good ;__________;
#Kat writes stuff
#EamesXArthur
#DrabbleGift
#For Kisu
#Cause I can
#And I do
#mywords
k-13 asked: +touches inappropriately+ <3
The fact that you can’t see a palm in front of your nose is not a problem, at least not for me. If much, it only adds to the whole lewdness of the situation, like a blindfold of wispy white, preventing you from seeing your own hands, adding to the illusion of this whole ordeal.
“Won’t your circuits get all moist?” You whisper, almost mockingly, lines of text following the words 0.3 nanoseconds before they leave your lips. I can ‘see’ you looking down, for seconds, at the expanse of your chest - at the rivulets of water that stream down your naked form - before the lines of a bright color, stuck somewhere between orange and red, catch your attention.
“Eyes up here, you’re not allowed to look down. Read every single line I am about to deliver, don’t you fucking dare do anything I won’t describe exactly. Act the play I will write, provoke the sensations that I command, feel the pleasure that I can’t. Masturbate for me.”
#replies
#personal
#Amee
#24hours of I'm glasses
#shameless Kat
#I don't even have an excuse for this
#mywords
==>Kat and Ruri: bastardize Homestuck
- TG:
- CG:
- CG:
- TG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- CG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- TG:
- CG:
- CG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- TG:
- CG:
- CG:
- CG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- CG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- CG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- CG:
- CG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
- TG:
Kisu’s B-day Present~~ Hunt :: a Durarara Drabble
Here it is - The first part of your present Kisu.
God, I wish this isn’t as confusing as I think it to be. XD
Pairing: ShizuoXIzaya
Fandom: Durarara
Word Count: 1040
Warnings: Double C [Cursing and Cockblock]
Food chain 101:: Drabble
Incubus!Izaya X Shizuo - Tama-chan
Based on Kisu’s sketches~~ WHAT YOU DO TO ME GURL!!!!1!!!
Izaya and Tama-chan don’t really see eye to eye… XD
I had to write it to get it out of my freaking system.
Warnings: Mild Cursing.
Drabble Time
The following piece has mature concepts, is short in length and a total cockblock.
Also: do not expect IC behaviour.
What? Plot? I know nothing of this plot madness you speak of.
Pairing: EarthwormXKadota.
Inspired by: This
[Warning: There is a crack pairing under this cut. Proceed at own risk]
