Dacryphilia - Blog Posts

Ive had my pink vibrator on my clit for the past hour AND I’m a little tipsy but I can’t cum :( send me threats please, I’ll do anything :). I can’t cum if I’m not being forced :(

if you're interested in the idea, i'd love to make a request! >:3

bottom/sub! shanks x male reader with watersports (whatever interpretation you like) and/or dacryphilia. maybe w some mixed praise/humiliation directed towards shanks, but winding it up with a little bit of fluffy aftercare?

Sorry this took so long, tbh it was actually hot ass but I had to use my special method of just writing it even if it was trash and then just coming back to fix it later. Ngl first draft was so bad I had to do sm, but it's good to just get the basic outline out so I could do it once I had some motivation. Like oh my god it was so bad, it was physically hurting me but i did it.

Pretty When You're Mine

Shanks x Male Reader. Straight smut with some fluff at the end. It has watersports but nothing insanely crazy (though i don't actually know what's considered crazy.) 2626 words.

Shanks is relaxing, holding his mug while he talks to Yasopp when you walk into the room. Once he spots you his expression immediately brightens. “Baby! You’re not busy anymore?” You walk over to him and he sets down his mug to hug you.

“I finished not too long ago, actually, though shouldn’t you be busy?” You ask and he huffs before smiling with a carefree expression.

“It’s fine~ I’m busy often, let me take a little break, okay?” He looks at you with pleading eyes and you sigh.

“Okay, have fun.” His smile brightens as he grabs his mug and clinks it with Yasopp, in a better mood now that his boyfriend has also approved of his break; even if he technically didn’t need your permission. You sit down and he continues to chat as more crewmates come in to drink, everyone quickly taking this “break” as an excuse to get drunk. Not that your crewmates are boring, but you can only take so much when you’re already tired from working on things the whole day. Your eyes trail to your boyfriend, then down at his ass. Not being shy, you reach out and touch his butt, making him flinch. “Sorry, just an accident.” You stand and hug his side.

“A welcome one~” He winks at you while chuckling, continuing his conversation. You think a bit more, everyone is starting to get rather drunk at this point and your backs are both facing near the wall. It’s a big chance no one would notice anything if you got a bit bold. Your hand creeps from his waist down to his butt, slowly massaging it. Shanks keeps his expression normal but he can’t hide his reactions as well when he’s tipsy.

“You’re already drunk, Captain? Your face is getting flushed.” Hongo points out while you shamelessly continue.

“Haha, maybe my tolerance is getting lower as I age.” He’s trying to make up excuses while feeling your hand pressing against his soft ass.

“Or you drank earlier without us.” Another crewmate says and he bites his lip, panicking slightly when your hand slips under the hem of his pants.

“Hmm~” Shanks disguises a hum of pleasure as one of thinking when your finger teases his entrance through his boxers. “Captain’s privilege getting the first taste.” He shifts in place a bit, gripping his mug tightly as you slip under his boxers to touch him bare. You’ve already trained his body to be responsive to your touch and to keep himself ready. It’s cute, feeling him tense and react even if he’d truly wanted to hang out with friends, only making things worse when you slip a finger inside of him. Shanks lowers his head a bit, gritting his teeth to keep sounds in as your finger moves inside him.

“He did have a lot to drink before you guys got here ” You tell them, covering for your poor boyfriend. “You feeling sick, hun?” Your tone is worried but you’re relentless when you add another finger, if the crew weren’t drunk themselves this would be obvious; though it wouldn’t be surprising if a few more observant ones still caught something being off.

“I-I- nnGh~” He grunts when his tight, wet walls and prostate are teased.

“Geez, already about to vomit then.” They poke fun at him while you take the mug from his hand and set it down. Shanks immediately clings to you and you take your fingers out of him, then pick him up.

“Captain’s retiring for the night then, c’mon.” Shanks hides his face in your shoulder as you speak, not trusting himself not to give it away with his expression. Once you both are at his quarters you set him down, then immediately pin him to the door by the neck. “So cute, did you want everyone to know?”

“s-sorry.” Shanks pants, gulping as your grip tightens around the sides of his throat. His face is flushed, eyes unfocused as he pants. So tame, so weak, so different from everything he shows outside. You put your knee between his thighs and grind up, making him gasp. “Ah~!” He whines as you continue to grind up roughly, your hand staying on his neck while you lean in to give him a soft kiss. Your other hand undoes your pants.

“Open for me.” He opens his mouth and you spit in it before pushing him down on his knees, shoving your dick in his mouth before he could catch his breath. You let it sit in his warm throat, cutting off his air, until tears form in his eyes. Once you finally pull back to let him breathe he struggles a bit to catch his breath. “Good boy.” It’s satisfying to give him a little praise, watching the way he shivers at the name before you walk over to the bed and sit “Come here~” Shanks nods then crawls over to you to rest his head on your lap. Even despite the rough treatment he can barely keep himself still from arousal, squirming a bit with the sight of your bare cock in front of his face. “Feeling needy, yeah?”

“Fuck, yes.” He leans in and kisses the tip of your dick, then parts his lips again so you can play with his tongue, sensitive. He lets out a whine when your thumb presses on it while your pointer finger rubs against the roof of his mouth.

“I know, you loved every second of my touch out here.” You lightly tug on his tongue and he softly moans, pleading with you with his eyes. “Don’t know how you manage to talk when your mouth is always desperate for me.” He’s panting again, your words only serving to egg him on.

“Please..” He needily sticks his tongue out of his open mouth so you can grab your length, slap your tip on it a few times before grabbing his hair and smoothly moving his head down to take it all at once.

“No gagging, like you were made for me.” You brush his hair back so he can look up at you while you move him on your dick down his throat, using the roof of his mouth to stimulate yourself like he’s a fleshlight. Like he’s your fleshlight. When you grind his face down onto your pelvis you see his eyes roll back for a moment from the feeling. You’re starting to get close, but something’s bothering you. ‘I need to piss.’ You think as you continue to move your lover’s head to please yourself. An idea pops into your mind and you pull Shanks’s head off, much to his dismay clear when he looks up at you with a small pout.

“What happened? I like swallowing.” He thinks that’s the issue but you shake your head.

“I have to pee.” You tell him and he’s about to move back to let you get up when you stop him. “You don’t need to move, actually. Stay right there and look pretty.” He flushes slightly, staying where he is but in a better mood from the praise. “Good boy, stick out your tongue, just how I like it.” Shanks processes this then turns bright red with his eyes widening.

“You…” He thinks about it and then takes a shaky breath, a smile forming on his face as his dick twitches. It only takes a second after that for him to follow, opening his mouth with his tongue out while he watches the way you stroke yourself then aim at his face. He’s expectant, his eyes already dark with lust while he waits. The emperor is on his knees as you start to empty your bladder on his scarred face and all over that red hair everyone knows until it’s dripping with urine, stroking your cock while you feel the pressure in your body relax. It’s beautiful seeing him let you do this, to enjoy it. The pleasure that was building in your body while his mouth was on you bursts and you end it with tilting his head up to cum ropes onto his tongue and lips. By the end of it Shanks is shaking, the humiliation of having your boyfriend and subordinate piss on you like you’re a whore arousing him.

“Sexy like this, found a new use for you, yeah?” You close his mouth so he can taste the mixture of cum and urine on his palette. Fuck, this is too much for him, Shanks bends down and whimpers, his eyes rolling back as he spasms and shoots into his now soiled pants. You grab his wet hair and pull him up, already hard again. “Came from that..” He’s out of it. “I’m not done yet, though.” You lift him up onto the bed, pull his pants and boxer up enough, then thrust into him. Your pace is for you, but you’re aiming directly at his prostate despite Shanks just cumming, making his brain overload with pleasure. He can’t speak, his head swimming as he starts to sob with each thrust. “Taking it so well for me, huh, Captain?” Calling him Captain only heightens this situation, being a feared and powerful Captain and Emperor of the sea, yet getting dicked down on the bed like it’s all he’s good for. He’d almost be ashamed, but it’s too good and tears run down his face as he gets close to another climax despite his body not being ready. You realize this and lean down to press against his lower stomach, making him gasp. He drank a lot earlier, and hasn’t gotten the chance to go to the bathroom yet. “Feeling full?” No worries though, you’ll help him as his loving and caring boyfriend. Your hands go to his waist and pull him up onto you, lifting him up with your dick still inside. He lets out a confused noise as you bring him to the bathroom and set him down in front of the toilet, gripping his hips to start fucking into him quickly again.

“Too full, aH~ t-too full..!” Shanks can’t handle, grabbing onto your thigh to try to focus to no avail. He can barely realize what’s happening, you only hear mumbling and moaning repeatedly as you aim his dick at the water while stroking it, your other hand pressing down on his lower stomach again. His bladder presses against his prostate from the inside while pushing your dick harder against the outside, soft walls pressing against your tip and length. Shanks keens and he arches his back with his head on your shoulder, unable to hold it in as piss squirts into the water along with his cum. You’re unrelenting as you fuck into his tight heat while he lets out broken cries, then burying yourself into his tight heat before filling him up with your seed. He’s pulsing around you, milking your cock while he whines and shakes, piss continuing to stream from his dick. Once he’s emptied he goes limp and you catch him before he falls, your boyfriend panting while his head spins from dizziness.

“You alright?” Your demeanor changes once your high is gone, going from a little mean to caring. You even ignore the wetness of his cheek from tears and pee to kiss it lovingly. Shanks brain feels empty though, he can’t even nod yet as he catches his breath. Pulling out, you admire the view of your cum seeping from his hole and hand marks on his hips for a bit before setting him down onto the toilet to rest and let it drip out. “I’ll wash you up so just relax, mkay?” He hums and you turn on the water, rubbing his neck and hips where you gripped earlier while the water warms up. Once it's ready you set him on a stool in the shower and start to clean him gently, feeling him lean into whatever touch you give. You’re washing his hair off when you speak. “Your hair is so pretty, like the rest of you.”

“You pissed on it so I don’t know how ‘pretty’ it is to you.” He’s regained more of his senses as you start to clean his body.

“I think you’re more beautiful than before actually.” This makes him chuckle a little.

“Marked your territory on me, my pretty little head is for you without claiming it, don’t have to worry.” He winks and laughs at his own joke, but starts to cough from a sore throat while you pat his back.

“Want me to get you some water?” You ask him after rinsing shampoo from his hair. Shanks hums in thought then shakes his head.

“Get it after, the steam can help my throat just fine for now.” He puts his hand on his chest and looks up at you with a sad expression. “Unless you want to leave? Use me how you like like i’m a toy then leave me to fend for myself…” He looks away dramatically, wiping a tear that isn’t there.

“You’re never a toy to me, no matter what I do when we’re having sex.” You state with a determined tone, making him flush a bit.

“Just a joke..” He mumbles as you smooch him, then undress to get in the shower yourself. Your boyfriend whistles “Hello, handsome~”

“You’re not seeing anything new, even if I was clothed before.”

“I enjoy the view no matter how many times I get it.” Well that makes two of you, letting Shanks admire your body as you clean yourself off. Once you’re done you run a bath and dip your boyfriend inside, letting his muscles relax while you can go change the sheets. “Nooooo…” He grabs your wrist.

“I’m not gonna be gone forever, do you want to sleep on dirty sheets?” You have a point, but he doesn’t like it, letting you go and looking at you like an abandoned puppy. “I’ll be back soon you big baby.”

“Promise?”

“Shanks I’m gonna be right here, you’re acting like I’m leaving the ship when your bathroom is connected to your quarters.” He stares at you until you sigh. “Yes I promise.” That satisfies him and he beams at you, now you can go change the sheets. Dirty, but thankfully nothing seeped into the mattress itself. Kind of a last minute decision to do watersports, next time you’ll set something down. Once you’re done you go back to the bathroom to find Shanks leaning back while splashing softly at the water to entertain himself.

“You’re finally bac-” You smooch him to shut him up, then drain the bath and dry him off before wrapping him in a towel burrito style to carry him off to bed while he hums in delight from the nice treatment. You’re both too lazy to dress so it’s decided you'll both sleep naked, it’s comfortable anyway having your skin touching. Even if Shanks was the one getting railed you’re also a bit tuckered out, closing your eyes to let your body relax. Before you can fall asleep you feel shuffling from next to you, Shanks cuddles into your side, cute. You pull him close, cuddling back and kissing his forehead.

“Goodnight.” You say softly, but don’t get a response. You look at his face and realize he’s already fast asleep. Well, that’s enough of a good night for you and your eyes close.

_________________

The crew loots a pirate ship from enemy pirates, finding barrels of alcohol. There’s excitement at first but when the Shanks tastes it, captain privilege, he makes a face. “Not good?” Beckman asks.

“Cheap, makes sense considering how weak they were, just tastes like piss.” His gaze trails to you with a sparkle in his eye, he’s hilarious.

××××

this is my first time writing watersports/dacriphilia so be nice i tried my best./hj now i just need to do the same thing with the other one...

HE’S SWEET WHEN HE’S SLEEPY ⍣₊˚｡ ( 僕のヒーローアカデミア )

◜◝ "he's warm beneath your hands, hazy with exhaustion and pleasure. half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, breath hitching when you touch him into blissful stupidity."♡ ᯓft. pro hero!shinsou hitoshi x afab!reader ✦ synopsis — shinsou has been out on an overseas mission for too long, you help him fall apart before he falls asleep. ✦ content tags — mdni. somnophilia (consensual question mark??). sleepy sex. handjob. (m. recieving). oral (m. recieving). overstimulation. dumbification (if you squint). whimpering. soft!dom reader. sleepy!needy!shinsou.

﹙紫藤 ひとし : shinsou hitoshi

Shinsou stumbles through the door as if he’s been dragged to hell and back, sweat clinging to his skin like a second layer. His breathing is shallow, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts, and those half-lidded, sleep-heavy eyes can barely stay open. He looks ruined—utterly wrecked—and yet, somehow, still unreal in how good he looks.

You don’t even try to hide how your gaze drinks him in. He’s shaky, barely keeping upright, but still so fucking pretty. You’d been so cruel to him all week—sending him videos just to ruin his focus, soft moans and pretty words meant only for his ears. You know he watched them over and over, probably came untouched just listening to your voice. He missed you so much it hurt, all need and no relief. And now? He’s finally here, looking worn down and perfect.

He collapses onto the couch, as if the weight of the world finally let him fall. A low groan escapes him, and his head lolls back against the cushions. You know he’s out cold—or close—but that doesn’t stop you. How could it?

You crawl up beside him, draping a leg over his thigh, fingers gently slipping into the messy strands of his lavender hair. It’s meant to be comforting. Just a little reward for making it home in one piece. But you’re not exactly innocent either—not when your own thighs are pressed together and aching. He smells like smoke and sweat and something distinctly him—warm, sharp, a little bit wild. It clings to his skin, seeps into your lungs, makes you dizzy in the best way. You bury your face in his neck, breathing him in like you've been starved. Then you drag your teeth along the curve of his throat, slow and reverent, like you’re trying to carve the taste of him into your memory.

He shifts, and the thick muscle of his thigh brushes right between your legs, catching your soaked panties just right. You freeze. Breath hitching.

Fuck. You can't help yourself.

Your lip is between your teeth in seconds. Your pulse jumps. You glance down at him—still asleep, still soft and slack with exhaustion—but when his hips twitch ever so slightly, something low in your gut tightens.

Poor thing's still in his hero suit. Sticky with sweat, too warm, probably stiff and uncomfortable. You tell yourself you're just helping by taking it off. You're a good girlfriend, right?

You press in closer, your palm gliding down the hard lines of his torso, dragging slowly over his body. The heat radiating off him makes your skin burn.

Another tiny movement. A flex of his thigh. This time the friction is sharper, deliciously unintentional. And fuck, you feel it now—the firm outline beneath the fabric, already swelling from your touch. Even in sleep, his cock twitches, begging for your touch.

One hand drifts lower, ghosting over the bulge pressing against his boxers. He shivers. The smallest sound slips past his lips—a breathy whine.

He doesn’t open his eyes.

Doesn’t need to.

His body’s already telling you everything.

His thigh is solid beneath you, flexing with each breath, and the friction has your head spinning. You roll your hips again, slower this time, and god—his touch is addicting. A quiet whimper slips from his throat, the sound making you clench around his leg.

Your hand dips lower, tracing the shape of his cock through the fabric, and he twitches again—hips jerking just a little, like his body’s stuck somewhere between a dream and submission. Your hand slips under his boxers, just to feel him.

At this point, he’s rocking his hips upward without thinking, working in slow, clumsy thrusts. He's fucking your fist like it’s instinct—slack-jawed, brainless, cock twitching with every rut. He’s so far gone, he doesn’t even realise he’s humping like an animal in heat. You press your mouth to his ear, a smile curling your lips as you whisper, "You like that, baby? Like being used in your sleep?"

“Mmh—nghh…” he slurrs out, "feels—hnnh—feels good." His hips give a pitiful little thrust into your palm, head lolling to the side like he’s chasing your voice in his dream. He's not really asleep anymore, his body's too responsive, too needy. His brows twitch, lips parted, whispering out broken sounds.

You tighten your grip.

That earns you a sharper gasp—still quiet, still sleepy, but ragged now, like it’s scraping out of his chest. “Ah—h-hnnn...” His mouth's slack, spit glistening at the corner like he’s too far gone to care. So fucking helpless. So fucking easy.

“Bet you’ve been thinking about this all week,” you murmur, dragging your thumb over his swollen tip, smearing the mess he’s already made. “Wearing that earpiece listening to me moan like a pervert… jerking yourself off in some shitty hotel bathroom, huh?”

He twitches hard. “Mmh—yes...ngh—” Just noise now, nonsense. His thighs tremble beneath you, and his breathing stutters. His head tips toward you like he’s trying to respond, back arching into your touch. His body caught on the edge.

“You couldn’t even touch me, baby,” you coo, sweet and cruel. “Couldn’t have me, couldn’t cum for me—not really. You need me to do it, don’t you?”

“Y...yeah…” he breathes out, voice mumbled and distant, so soft you barely catch it. “Need... need you—mmmph—”

His whole body tenses—then melts, collapsing into you with a broken moan as he spills over your fingers. He curls in on himself as he cums, your name slipping from his lips like a prayer, "hahh… feels s'nice—'m cumming—m'sorry—"

He falls out of sheer exhaustion, breath shallow and shaky as he sinks into the cushions like he’s boneless. But you’re not done. Not even close.

You shift in his lap, fingers curled around the base of his softening cock—still messy, still leaking. The head is flushed pink, angry and overstimulated, and you can’t resist.

You lower your head, tongue dragging a slow, wet stripe up his shaft—cleaning him up, sure, but savouring it too. You moan as the taste hits your tongue, and he jolts under you, a broken whimper punching out of him. His hips twitch, helpless. "Nnh—d-don't," he whines, voice hoarse, but there's no real protest in it. His thighs are trembling.

You just smile against him, licking up the rest, slow and warm and too much. His whole body shudders. “Hhmmph—’s too much—c-can’t—I can’t…”

“Shhh, I’m just cleaning you up, baby,” you coo, but your voice is all honey and poison. “You made such a mess. Let me take care of you.” He's warm beneath your hands, hazy with exhaustion and pleasure as you ease him into blissful stupidity.

He’s trying not to cry now. His chest is rising too fast, soft little gasps tumbling out of his mouth every time your tongue flicks over his tip. You don’t stop. He’s just too pretty like this.

You move higher, straddling his thigh again, grinding down slow—your soaked panties dragging over the same spot you used earlier. The muscle underneath flexes weakly in response, and god, the sound he makes? Desperate, fragile. “S’wet—dripping—can’t even breathe,” You feel his tears before you see them—warm against your fingers when you cup his face.

“Poor baby,” you murmur, rocking your hips in slow circles, “are you crying? Is it too much?”

He frantically nods, too fucked out to form a proper response, sobbing quietly now—but his hips are still moving, weak little thrusts that tell you he needs this even if he can’t take it.

You moan into his mouth as you kiss him, one hand wrapped around his spent cock again, rubbing him raw and dripping. Your clit catches on the curve of his thigh just right, and you rut harder, chasing your own orgasm.

You’re lost in the way his skin feels under yours, slick and burning with need, and with every movement, you make sure he knows just how much you want it, how much you want him.

He’s sobbing now—eyes fluttering, mouth open, voice ragged—but his hands clutch at your hips like he needs you to keep going.

You drag yourself along his thigh with more force, and it hits—hard. You moan, high and needy, hips jerking as you cum against his skin, grinding yourself into a trembling mess. He gasps, so overwhelmed by the heat and mess, that it doesn't take long for him to finish again—not without a chorus of whiney moans and “please, please, please…“

When you finally stop moving, he’s panting against your chest, your thighs twitching around him, he’s still crying—soft and silent now, face wet, body limp.

But you kiss the tears away. You always do.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” you whisper, brushing the hair from his forehead. “Missed you so much.”

And he nods, wrecked and grateful, clinging to you like a lifeline.

He’s always been such a pretty crier.

Crying as he fucks me too hard, only for it to turn him on and makes him fuck me harder as he moans into my ear at how my cries make him hornier <3

choking on dad cock and there’s mascara running down your cheeks and they’re calling you their little cry baby and slapping your face <3

dad kissing away my tears while he fucks my cervix

David Dastmalchian as Lester Billings in The Boogyman

DACRYPHILLIA MENTIONED!!!!

"It's to much!"

Pairing: Mark Grayson x GN! Reader

Synopsis: You edge Mark to tears with a cock vibrator, savoring every desperate sound as he breaks beneath your touch.

Content tags: smut, overstimulating, edging, cock vibrator, handjob, Dacryphilia

Mark’s wrists strain against the bedframe, muscles flexing with every tremor that rolls through him. You’ve got him right where you want him — naked, flushed, helpless. His chest rises and falls with sharp, shallow breaths, every inhale catching as the cock vibrator buzzes steadily against him.

You’ve had it on him for twenty minutes now. Twenty long minutes of teasing, stroking, and pulling your hand away the second his hips stuttered or his moans hit that desperate pitch. He’s soaked in sweat, eyes glassy, lip bitten raw. His cock twitches in your grip as you wrap your hand around it again, lazy and slow. The vibrator hums beneath your fingers, perfectly in tune with his leaking, overstimulated tip.

"Please—" he gasps, voice thick and raw. “I c-can’t—need to come, please—”

You lean in, lips brushing his ear. “You don’t get to need yet,” you murmur, biting down lightly on his lobe. “You’re still being so good for me.”

His head tips back into the pillow, a broken sound clawing out of his throat. A tear slips down his cheek, and you pause to wipe it away with your thumb.

“Oh, Mark,” you coo, almost mockingly sweet. “You’re crying already? That’s so pretty. You’re such a pretty little mess.”

He chokes on a moan as you twist the dial on the vibrator just one notch higher. The shift is subtle but devastating. His back arches off the mattress, legs trembling, muscles locked with the need to thrust. But he doesn’t. Not yet.

"I-It’s too much, I—" His voice is high, strangled, like he’s on the edge of breaking.

You kiss along his jaw, breath warm and slow, contrasting how worked up his body is. “It’s never too much for you. You can take it.”

“I’m—” he tries, tears streaking now, his thighs twitching. “I’m gonna come—please—”

You let go of his cock.

His entire body jolts like you struck him, a wounded noise torn from his throat. “No—no, please—!”

You tut. “Almost, baby. But you know the rules. You don’t get to come until I let you.”

He whines, squirming against his restraints, the vibrator still buzzing mercilessly around him. You drag your fingers down his abdomen slowly, watching how he twitches at every touch.

“I bet you could come just from this. Just from the vibrator,” you tease, brushing your thumb over his slick head, not stroking — just touching. “Would that embarrass you? No hands, no thrusting — just a pathetic little mess?”

He nods, breath catching again. “Y-Yeah—yes—please—”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you whisper, grinning as you reach down and cup his balls, gently massaging while the vibrator does its work. “Coming like a toy. Like my toy.”

He whimpers, so close again, the tip of his cock leaking freely. His whole body is shaking now, muscles jumping from tension and denial. You can see it in his face — how badly he wants to give in, how close he is to losing all control.

"You’re gonna cry for me again before I even let you come," you promise, kissing the corner of his mouth. “And when I do let you, you’re gonna thank me. On your knees.”

Mark’s eyes roll back as a second tear slips down his cheek. He’s not even trying to be quiet anymore — he’s whining, breathless and overwhelmed, caught in that limbo between pleasure and pain. You keep your hand there, just cradling him, watching as the vibrator pushes him to the brink again. Not touching, not helping. Just waiting.

And when he starts sobbing for real — hips bucking, thighs clenching — you finally whisper:

“Good boy. Come for me.”

Mark shatters.

His hips jerk, spine bowing off the bed as he cries out—loud, broken, utterly lost in it. His orgasm hits like a tidal wave, thick ropes spilling over his abdomen, his cock twitching violently. His throat works around a sob, eyes squeezed shut, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. But you don’t move the vibrator. You keep it right there — buzzing against the sensitive underside of his cock, your hand still loosely wrapped around him, holding him in place.

"Ah—! W-Wait—!" Mark gasps, panic bleeding into his voice. “I—it’s too much—!”

His hips try to jerk away, trembling under you, but he can’t get far. You press your free hand gently to his chest, holding him down—not forcefully, but with presence. Control. A reminder.

“Easy,” you murmur, voice calm, grounding. “You remember your safeword?”

He nods rapidly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Y-Yeah—yes.”

“Say it if you need to. No hesitation,” you say, locking eyes with him. “We stop if you say it. Understand?”

Mark swallows hard, nodding again. “I-I understand.”

You soften for a beat, leaning in to kiss his temple, sweat-slick skin warm beneath your lips.

“Good boy,” you whisper. “Now take it for me.”

And he does — or he tries. Because the vibrator keeps working him, and he’s still hard — achingly so — even post-orgasm. His cock twitches violently, oversensitive, raw. You ease your fingers under the head again, not stroking, just letting your touch remind him he doesn’t belong to himself right now.

He whines, choked and wrecked. “F-Fuck—! Oh my god—”

His thighs twitch, muscles spasming helplessly. Another orgasm builds too fast, sharp and desperate. He’s trying to hold it back, babbling through gritted teeth, but it’s no use. It tears out of him in a strangled sob as he spills again, smaller, thinner—but no less intense. Pain and pleasure blur, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Tears are streaming down his face now, silent and shining. He gasps, “Please—it hurts—!”

“I know,” you whisper, brushing some of the wetness away with your thumb. “But you haven’t said your word.”

He shakes his head weakly, panting. “Don’t… want to stop…”

Your mouth curls into a pleased smile. “Good. Because you’re going to give me one more.”

He sobs—louder this time. “I-I can’t—”

“You can.” Your hand cradles his cock again. The vibrations continue without mercy. “And you will.”

Every sound he makes after that is pure wreckage. He’s not even trying to be composed anymore. Just raw noise—crying, gasping, pleading into the sheets as you guide him through the edge of another climax. He thrashes, overwhelmed, babbling your name, and you stay calm, steady—watching him with heat in your eyes.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you murmur, brushing his cheek. “So beautiful like this. Falling apart for me.”

And then it hits again—his third orgasm, ripped from him like it’s punishment and reward all at once. He screams through it, chest heaving, tears soaking the pillow beneath his head. You don’t move the vibrator right away. You just let it rest there—buzzing quietly—while his body twitches and shakes beneath you.

Only when his moans turn to shallow, hiccuping breaths do you reach down and finally shut it off. He melts into the mattress, sobbing, but his hands are still clenched in the restraints—until you untie them. The moment his wrists are free, he curls into your touch, collapsing against your chest with trembling arms and shaking legs. You hold him close. Quiet now. Gentle. Stroking his hair.

“You did so well,” you whisper, kissing the crown of his head. “I’m so proud of you.”

Mark hiccups, still riding the aftershocks, utterly spent—but safe. And you stay right there, wrapped around him, until the trembling stops.

Self indulgent, Pre-release Mr Reca thoughts (and hopefully prayers for me, because this man makes me salivate.)

Nsfw don't like don't read

This is filthy as hell.

Pet play, dacryphilia, and probably a few more I hadn't think of yet, this is a wild ride

I wanna make this man whimper so hard you have no fucking idea, this man makes me feral. I want to see him on the floor like a dog for me just augghhhhhhhhhh

Anyways.

Mr Reca with pet play. You saw the trailer, you will see the vision. Crazy director man who probably has a thing for controlling things because of his personality (maybe) or profession? Sign me the fuck up. I want to see this twink with a collar and leash. I want to fuck him hard and make him whimper and call him a pathetic little puppy. I want to make him wear a tail plug.

Or, alternatively, make him hump my shoe while he wears some fluffy dog ears. I see him as a dog boy, I have no idea why, but he gives possessive dog boy vibes. Bear with me here. Make him a custom collar or thigh straps with your name on it. I mean he already has them in his daily outfit, it would just make sense y'know?

Mr Reca with dacryphilia because I like my men crying and in pain. That thing about men whimpering and whining being hot is my whole personality when I'm reading fics, that is my vanilla, let's go. I want to see this pretty man crying while I suck him dry, I want to kiss his tears away while I prevent him from coming over and over. And by gods above I want to see this man full on bawling after all the overstim. Kiss away the tears because I'm soft like that.

Mr Reca but we tie him up with his straps. Why does one man need that many straps anyways? Or hell, his jacket thing works too, that shit def looks hot if he wore it without a shirt underneath like the back is 80% open, it covers nothing but it's giving everything fr. Y'all think we can hang him up with just his straps? Fuck him hard while he's up?

Mr Reca but we def filming, I shit you not that is the thing that started this post. Use his phone, your phone, do it on a private Livestream for yourself, use his freaking cameras, do it on set let's goooooooooo. I wanna watch him write his scripts as we fuck, let him sit on your dick if you can, if not cockwarm him instead. We winning no matter what. Make that man struggle and whimper, we ✨love✨ whimpering men in this house. If he feels generous maybe he'll let us wrap him up with his film tape of him being fucked and takes pictures with it. He probably won't though, but he'll probably keep them~♡ I wanna see him drool on camera so I can zoom in on his face and take pictures of it.

Mr Reca and a breeding kink???? A height difference and size kink??? I can see this going both ways. I feel like it's less breeding kink, and more he likes the feeling of cum. How to explain this? No clue. But I just think he would. Let him suck you off or eat you out, get his face wet~

For the size/height kink I think it goes both ways. I think he doesn't really care if you're smaller than him or bigger than him, he just likes it y'know? Maybe you're smaller than him but you can fuck his brains out. Maybe you're tall enough you can lift him up and fuck him against the wall without his feet touching the floor. ✨Just difference in general✨ baby. Bonus points too if you're big, I feel like he'll enjoy getting squished. Doesn't matter if you're masc or femme leaning and/or presenting, he likes getting squished.

And I hadn't really started on the real size kink idea yet, damn. Okay, size kink when he sees his stomach having a bulge as you fuck him. We love a skinny twink. I think he would see it and his mind would just go blank, like, "what the fuck, you're that big" kinda thing. Strap on or not, I think the surprise factor of seeing it is something he likes.

Mr Reca with mirrors. Listen. Trust me. Mirrors. I just love watching this unhinged man get his mind fogged by pleasure. This is a thing I love. I wanna see his face and watch him cry and watch him struggle. We've seen how deranged this man is in the trailer, now let's fuck him up literally so we can see his face more. Do it against those big, wall length mirrors you see in dancing studios if he's working on a musical or something. Do it in one of his trailers while he's out filming on set, bonus if it's not even room and we just press him against a random ahh mirror in a random trailer for costume and makeup.

I blame the unhinged energy today on my exams.

Hope you enjoyed? Well, technically I wrote this for myself but, sure. Posting this for funsies.

As a female, I crave this sort of love :P

obsessed with the idea of someone much bigger than me fucking me in missionary. putting their cock or strap on my tummy before they slip inside me, just to show me how deep they’ll fill me up.

pushing their way inside my tiny boycunt, watching as i stretch around them and cry out. hushing me sweetly but getting more excited at the sight of tears in my eyes.

finally all the way in, using their hand to rub the bulge on my tummy gently, their palm almost taking up my torso. pushing down and watching me squirm, their cock/strap starting to thrust. in, out, in, out, getting faster, harder, deeper..