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eiseryn · 6 months

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[MAFIA/CRIME AU]

We can have a yandere Vail, as a little treat. :3

To give more context for this AU, Lei is an underground doctor and Vail is apart of Lexi's (this cool AF NPC) Red Dragons which is I guess an organized crime group. Lei cooks sleeping pills from him in this AU because he has trouble sleeping from trauma, probably. But they don't work well anymore so he asks for something better and she suggests an experimental drug she's been working on. They find it works pretty well... but they are unaware... that one of the reagents is contaminated with a drug that makes people yandere... yeah... a yandere drug. So yeah that's why he became a little (JUST A LITTLE!!!) yandere for Lei :3 That is in fact her arm that he is gripping. She's wearing black nitrile gloves.

The concept for this drawing (which you might see in the notes I'll post sometime soon) is that he is her bodyguard for the time being for plot reasons, and a patient she has is being sleazy. So she asks Vail to escort him out and Vail decides to kill the guy :D wow what a normal response, right? (/s) So this is after he gets rid of the body and returns to her with blood stains and she realizes those aren't his. He reveals that he has killed the one who has "touched her" and asks to be praised 😳😳😳 Which would be hot if y'know the situation wasn't so messed up. This is why Lei starts suspecting something is wrong....

I will be releasing the mafia AU notes soon. Maybe after the post epilogue story XD so certain NPCs (not my OCs again) will have more context for who they are rather than being just names. But yeah it's a very SPICY and DRAMATIC AU (I don't write the full thing though) with lots of foreshadowing and an ending... that is as tragic and sad as they come... It hurt me to write it but it was so angsty it had to be done. You shall see. You shall see~

As a final note yes that collar he's wearing is a gift from Lei 👀👀👀spicyyyy

#oc #original character #i almost tagged this as my oc oops #vail #tw blood #cw blood #mafia au #crime au #I cooked up way too long AUs for these mertalline characters LOL #i mean i guess vail is my son in law if we stretch it a bit LMAO #cyberpunk coc #kinda lmao i should just tag it when characters from it appear even in AU form #yandere #male yandere #OC art #Original art #my art #lei is here... her arm at least LOL #dunno if I should tag her BUT SHE SURE IS THERE THAT IS DEF HER HAND AND ARM #she's wearing black nitrile gloves -- diff than the gloves he's wearing i think #idk maybe gangsters wear nitrile gloves who knows #I will be posting the mafia AU notes sometime this week prob #debating if I should post those notes first or the post epilogue story cuz like LMAO some NPCs I have never introduced XD #i'm always drawing lei and her friends like the absolute clown i am #sketch #coloured sketch #yeah so i mean i draw hands kinda badly BUT I really like his eye glow here #its the classic yandere red heart eyes #i think he looks great like this #def not sus at all wdym

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wolftattoo · 4 months

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did i ever post this pic of me crossfaded with a soju .

also pipe lighting LMAO

#i meant to post a pic of me in black nitrile gloves cause i think i look hot but this is too funny to tme #noot

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pollinatedpansy · 3 months

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Ok so to answer your question I have literally only had it happen once, (I have also only had on sexual partner so grain of salt.)

Tbh there was a lot of foreplay involved and marathon sex was happening, and changing positions to find my spots. (People with vaginas have multiple spots inside that do different things like the g-spot or the spot that makes you produce a gush of slick if touched.)

So towards the end of it I was literally shaking and so overstimulated but still craving more?? So when my partner penetrated that last time and hit a really good spot I literally blacked out a lil lmao.

Anon I've been staring at this for like half an hour like a fucking fish just going 😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦😐😦 Thank you for imparting your great wisdom on me o' wise one

Ok but in all seriousness, 1. Good for you anon!! Get that dick!, 2. Dw I take everything with a grain of salt, 3. What I'm hearing is like fucked stupid type deal?? Or idk vaguely approaching fucked silly territory?, 4. Idk why I'm making a numbered list, 5. Someone needs to come experiment on me like a mad scientist /hj

Anywho thank you again anon, ily, this does definitely answer the "how the fuck" question I was having lol 😭💕

#anonymous #still staring at this looking like a fish tbh #anywho any volunteers?#this is bringing back my thirst for black nitrile gloves again #o no

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tojiswhore-nanamisslut · 4 months

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Tattoo artist Choso who has such nice, strong hands that hold down the skin of your thigh as he traces over the stencil. Holding his face close to make sure he's getting the details. Warm arm positioned across your lap when he needs a different angle.

#im #i need it #jjk fics #choso #furrowed brows as he concentrates #but then when he looks up at you he smiles a bit and asks how youre doing and youre red as a fucking tomato #hes wearing a loose black sleeveless shirt and black nitrile gloves #obviously has full sleeves on both arms #god and his muscles that are so prominent #im fucking #djsnkdjsfjaks

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bbqproshop · 3 months

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#BLACK DIESEL NITRILE POWDER FREE GLOVES

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dessousme · 7 months

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From out of the shadows.

I wanna meet some folks like me…

#cross dressing art #crossdressgirls #cross dressing #crossdress #androgyny #black and white #gloves #nitrile

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tights-meow · 2 years

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i enjoy me some nice gloves

#tights #pantyhose #everyday in tights #nude tights #nude pantyhose #shiny tights #shiny pantyhose #20221108 #Nur Die Seidenfein 15 #bodysuit #gloves #black nitrile gloves

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ghouljams · 10 days

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Piercer!König who is sure he must have the wrong name when you stand up from the waiting room couch in your pretty dress. All white with little pink flowers, it barely scrapes mid thigh, innocent and yet... he can see the little pebble of piercings under the top. The thin fabric doing nothing to hide the piercings bracketing your nipples, and the fact that you aren't wearing a bra. Naughty little thing. You must want him to see them. He checks the sheet on his clipboard again, his eyes flitting over the words "vertical clitoral hood piercing." You smile up at him with every sweetness, and König feels as if his stare may bore straight through you. Predatory to anyone who knew better.

He ushers you back to his room and gets started setting up his piercing tray as you settle on the padded table. He glances over his shoulder at you, and you fix him with another smile. "You can undress." He tells you, looking back at his work. There's a very brief sound of shuffling before it stops, and the table creaks. König looks back at you again and finds you fully clothed still, your underwear neatly folded beside you. That won't do at all. "Dress too," he nods. Your uncertainty writes itself over your face, and he feigns ignorance, compassion. "I'd like to check your other piercings as well, see if you need to change the jewelry."

"Oh," your lips part around the sound, König wonders what they'd look like wrapped around his cock, "Alright then." You reach behind you to untie the thin straps behind your back that hold the dress together and tug the fabric up over your head. König feels his breath catch, held tighter with each inch of skin you reveal. If he'd hoped for more piercings littering your body he's sorely mistaken. Your nipples are pierced, he'd already seen those, but past that... You're practically a virgin. No other piercings he can see. He can't wait to get his hands on you.

"Lay back on the table," he voice feels rough, his eyes following the movement of your legs as you slip them onto the table. He snaps the black nitrile gloves onto his hands as he steps closer, runs them over your legs as you part them. You're so easy for him, so willing to spread your legs at the slightest touch. And such a pretty pussy. König runs his thumb up your slit, spreads your folds with his fingers and pinches your clit.

"Why do you want this piercing?" König asks, watching you giggle as he rubs over your clit.

"Sort of a joke, helping guys find it, y'know?" Your voice is so sweet. He wonders how many men have failed you, if any at all have. His thick finger slips over your entrance and he mumbles a soft apology when you gasp.

"I've never had any trouble," he mutters.

"I mean, I hope so, since that's what you're piercing." You joke. König hums, rolls his thumb over your clit to watch you shiver. Proof positive he supposes. "What-" he shushes you, rubbing your clit until you try to close your legs, then König is wrenching them open. He coos down at you, raising to hold your shoulder with his free hand, keeping you pinned to the table as you squirm.

"Need to get it hard for piercing," he smiles behind his mask watching you nod. What a stupid thing you are, still spreading your legs for him. König circles his fingers over your clit, watching you squirm and buck into his hand. He tugs his mask down when it's clear you're not going to try and get off the table, leaning to latch his lips around your nipple as he pushes one thick finger into your pretty cunt. He'll just make you come once or twice, then he'll get you pierced. Just once or twice.

Maybe three times if he's still feeling mean.

And once on his cock, just because you won't be fucking anyone for a few weeks with your new piercing...

#cod x reader #x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig smut #piercer!könig #im just thinking about it...#f!reader #tw dubcon #tw noncon #just conna come my bases #König is a creep

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topbanana325 · 10 months

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Everything You Need to Know About Latex Gloves

Latex gloves have become an essential item in various fields, including healthcare, laboratories, and even everyday tasks. These gloves provide a protective barrier between the wearer and potentially harmful substances. Here's everything you need to know about latex gloves:

Material and Construction: Latex gloves are made from natural rubber latex, derived from the sap of rubber trees. They are known for their elasticity, flexibility, and superior fit. The gloves are usually manufactured through a dipping process, where molds are dipped into the latex solution and then dried to form the glove shape.\

Barrier Protection: Latex gloves offer excellent barrier protection against biological and chemical agents. They are effective in preventing the transmission of bacteria, viruses, and other pathogens. However, it's important to note that latex gloves are not resistant to all chemicals, so it's crucial to choose the right glove for the specific task.

Allergies: While latex gloves are widely used, some individuals may develop allergic reactions to latex proteins. These allergies can range from mild skin irritations to severe anaphylaxis. If you or someone you know has a latex allergy, it is important to opt for alternative glove options such as nitrile or vinyl.

Proper Usage and Disposal: Latex gloves should be used appropriately to ensure maximum effectiveness. Hands should be washed and dried before putting on gloves to prevent contamination. Additionally, gloves should be disposed of properly after each use to prevent the spread of germs.

Alternative Options: If latex allergies are a concern, there are alternative glove options available. Nitrile gloves are a popular choice as they offer similar barrier protection without the risk of latex allergies. Vinyl gloves are another alternative, although they provide less resistance to punctures and chemicals.

In conclusion, latex gloves are a vital tool for maintaining safety and hygiene in various industries. Understanding their material, usage, and potential allergies can help you make informed decisions when selecting gloves for your specific needs. Always prioritize safety and choose the right gloves for the task at hand.

Shop Top Banana Latex Gloves for superior protection and comfort. Made from high-quality natural rubber latex, these gloves provide a secure fit and reliable barrier against pathogens and chemicals. Stay safe and choose Top Banana for all your latex glove needs.

#Nitrile gloves #Black nitrile gloves #Blue nitrile gloves #Nitrile gloves Melbourne

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deirdreskye · 1 year

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Dude frying my tendies at the raising cane's has the black nitrile gloves over the hairy forearms this is not good. Puppy's leaking. The situation in my Target boxer briefs is gonna go from Gushers to Go-Gurt real fast here. I'm so horny I deserve to have copper wire snaked through my teeth

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eilidh-eternal · 4 months

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Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin.

You need him.

You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.

Ghost.

“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.

“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”

“I can’t, I–”

“Ye’re open from two to close.”

“Book her. The full day.”

“What?!”

“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.

Well.

Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.

Fuck it.

You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.

You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.

“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I did.”

Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.

“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.

“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”

There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.

“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?”

What?

He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.

“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.

It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.

The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.

The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core.

The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.

“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.

He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”

Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’

The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.

“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”

Why does he want to look at—?

The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.

“Okay…”

He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.

“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.

“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”

You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.

You have no idea what he sees in you.

He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries.

The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.

“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.”

It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.

“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.

“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor.

“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.

“That so?”

“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”

“And Cap?”

“Who? Oh, you mean John?”

“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”

“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–

“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.

“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.

Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.

Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”

You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.

“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.”

Yes.

“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”

Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.

“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.

Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy.

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.

“Rules?”

“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.

“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink.

“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”

It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.

“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.

“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?”

The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.

Next>>>

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