- Local time
- Tomorrow 5:21 AM
- Messages
- 61
- Age
- 26
- Pronouns
- He/Him
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- UPDATED 7/20/25: 1 new plot!
- I've been an erotic roleplayer for the past few years (on and off).
- Third-person writing is preferred.
- Expect a reply almost daily. If it's been 3 days, ping me.
- First impressions are really important to me. If you seem unapproachable or your idea lacks substance, I probably will not respond.
- I mainly write as a dom, sometimes switch.
- I may ask for a writing sample if I am unable to find one on your page.
- I am a big fan of OOC chatter! I promise I'm not mean </3. I love making Pinterest boards for those stories I obsess over.
- Aesthetics are everything to me. Making threads look nice is something that I take pride in, so please be flexible and willing to use code (that I will provide!).
- Send me your ideas, or take inspiration from mine. Let's make something worth remembering.
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STATUS: OPEN (1/2) β TIME ZONE: GMT +9
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- I've been on a kick to explore more dark themes as of late. Things such as corruption and psychological elements seem to be the itch I want to scratch.
- However, I am a true SoL slut at heart since that is originally what I started with.
- I write what I write. Sometimes, that can be as little as 300 words. Other times, I can reach up into the 1000-word territory. It all depends on what I am given and how I'm able to control my character without controlling yours (to an extent).
- The same goes for smut/plot ratios. I love smut. I love writing smut, but things like feelings, smell, sight, and touch are all significant to me as a reader. There is zero point in pushing a story for a smut scene if the smut itself is lifeless.
- Face claims are never a requirement, but I will always provide one. Real life, animated, somewhere in between? I will match the vibes 100% of the time.
- I've also been dabbling in more fantasy elements as of late (still humanoid). Demons, succubus, angels, gods, give me all of them.
- If I'm deep into a story, you can probably expect a Pinterest board to be made at some point. Capturing the vibes and essence of a story through photos is a personal favorite of mine. I like to get invested!
- If you have any questions, don't hesitate to reach out. -
dominance/sub, possessiveness, collar and leash, age gaps, slice of life, anal (plugs, training), obsession, ddlg (NO AGEPLAY, JUST TITLES), dark romance, biting, spanking, markings, pussy worship, body worship, smell, touch, innocent to corrupt, ruined makeup, hands around throat, dirty talking, clothing play, public/heavy risk, cum play (creampies, facials, swallowing), kissing, video recording, whimpering, scratching, height difference, aftercare, lingerie, overstimulation, rough sex, nipple play, hair pulling, slapping (face, tits, ass), jealousy, second chances, tingling sensations, tattoos, piercings, orgasm control/denial, rope, thighs, feet, oral fixations, nicknames
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The bolded words would be the character I would play. If neither is bolded, then that will be up for us to decide.
- Sugar daddy x sugar baby
- One night stand
- Human x Angel
- God x Human (Not godmodding!)
- Something with Greek Gods in a modern society
- Work husband x work wife
- Neighbor x 'girl next door'
- Landlord x tenant
- Loner x succubus
- Dad x best friend's daughter
- Roommates
- Husband x wife's sister
- Stripper x patron
- Parasocial relationship turned into a real one.
- Amateur theatre club, director x actress
- Strangers on vacation/travel/hiking
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The night was hungrily young. While his community would be sharing drinks and laughs at the abandoned building turned tavern, Ian's mind would flush with thoughts of lifeless eyes and agonizing screams. Every last victim ended the same way, no matter how strong, tough, or careless they seemed. Their defeated body language always turned to a last-ditch effort of freedom and liberation from the hellhole he called "Starhaven." Layla had predictable, quiet, and intelligent footsteps that led her back into the town almost as if she were a spirit dancing through the woods. The tree branch, on the other hand, was out of place, desperate, and ominous.
Ian made sure always to carry a master key of every building in the town, a flashlight, a hunter's knife, and a cloth that could be used to bind the feet of his victims or a gag to further suppress their screams into the empty void. A sadistic smile formed at the corner of his mouth as he chased the high of the feeling of another killing on his fingertips. The sinking gut feeling, shaking hands, and the small dip of vertigo was a cocktail of euphoria as he would chase that drug towards the trees.
"Come out, come out wherever you are..." His voice was deep, raspy, with a country twang for added flair, even though he grew up on the West Coast. His footsteps only grew louder, the sounds of branches falling from the tree, and the wet leaves on the ground were a perfect storm for another victim, another life. The flashlight would be used as a beacon of terror as he would check the corners, up into the trees, and even turn around a couple of times for the tiny ounce of hope from her end. He was playing with his food, and she knew her time was running out.
But this wasn't his first rodeo. He knew where his victims liked to hide. Behind trees, up near the hammock...and inside the shelled-out base.
"Well, hello, darling. Ready to come back to daddy?" Ian's insidious smile was heightened by the flashlight that outlined his forehead wrinkles, raised cheeks, and killer eyes that were eating his prey from the outside. Tucked into the corner of the base was a scared, small, nearly defeated woman covered in blood that wasn't her own. Her uncontrollable shakes were met with fearless hisses as she used her legs to kick, hitting nothing but air. She was sobbing endlessly, the trauma of her friends being dumped like garbage bags was enough to clutch her pearls and attempt to fight, break, and scratch.
But it was no use.
Oftentimes, it was the chase that was more important to Ian rather than the goal itself. This time, there was something different about her. Even in her most vulnerable state, her baby blues, silky hair, and body frame were the perfect ingredients to mold into something new. He saw potential. The knife in his hand was quickly withdrawn back into his pocket. He got on all fours as he stalked her prey; the noise of Juliette desperately trying to back herself up further sounded like a dog trying to dig a tunnel. Her hands would be bloodied from the sheer desperation to escape while Ian slithered into the base of the tree like a snake.
"I could smell you from a mile away...You really think you could get away that easily? Starhaven is a sanctuary for those like you...You just don't know it yet." Ian bit his bottom lip, leaving a momentary dent behind, before he snapped his arm out to attempt to grab the ankle of the stranded woman. His stern attempt was met with a kick of her own, a reactionary swear escaped his lips, then a sadistic laugh. She was a fighter, ruthless, wouldn't kneel so easily to those before. Her ankle, on the other hand, had given out. It was useless, beaten, and swollen, something that the older man would take advantage of.
SMACK.
Ian got a tight enough grip of her bruised ankle to swiftly pull her out of the base of the tree, the wet leaves acted like a slip and slide that would perfectly place her in the vicinity of his closed fist. A simple, yet forceful punch to the jaw would shut the lights off for the poor girl as her body would ragdoll into Ian's lap.
"Now...Let's get you back and freshen you up." The high tensions came down with a subtle whisper as Ian would move the mess of her hair out of her face, staring deep into the sleeping beauty as some of her blood would have dripped onto his arm. He planted a small, but firm kiss on the top of her forehead. The dried blood cut through his taste buds like he was tasting iron. He wasn't completely in the clear as Juliette put up a fight worth remembering, but it was his turn now to reap the rewards.
Luckily for Ian, she was as easy to carry as hauling a sack of potatoes back to the mayor's mansion.
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pairing: 2nd chances.
word bank: BDSM, romance, (slight) corruption, obsession.
All they had to do was sign the dotted line. 50%, split down the middle, they both go their separate ways. They would delete decades of memories and reinvent themselves...but they couldn't. Call it fate, destiny, or blind luck, but the algorithm portaled them into a world of slow burn, sex, and rediscovered love where they would crawl out of the shell to try something new. If marriage counseling didn't work, ropes, handcuffs, and a new outlook on the relationship would. -
pairing: demon x human
word bank: corruption, D/s,
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