#I'm going absolutely feral over the tenderness of it all

[valentine-cafe]

hàoyû 9948v | fem!reader

*slides in looking like a drug dealer* i'd have this man's babies. i need collateral if this little shit is planning to keep me cooped up inside his mansion especially if he's not around (which is rarely ig-). wdym don't you make contact with a goddamn psychotic hot-ass feral spirit? nuh uh, that sign can't stop me, i'm married to him anyway, i don't make the rules. i need this man to put me in my place, preferably mating press. still, anything works as long he's inside me, like damn, all day all night, no protection, every position, it's okay if i pass out. this man's body ain't coming out without bruises and blood from me biting and scratching him.

wait, i just remember, "let this man fuck you on his altar please" this man is way more feral than me damn, like okay, what's stopping you 'lil guy? your wife ain't going anywhere with your eyes trailing over her. what a freak *twirls hair*

it's okay if he can't get me pregnant, i'll get him pregnant, fuck everything, one of us coming out pregnant. " just because men can't get pregnant, doesn't mean you shouldn't try your absolute fucking hardest” jìngyí 209's words not mine, he's so real for that *disintegrate*

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ verse 9948v hàoyŭ ⊹ ۪ ࣪

˚◞꒰ 🍰 grim reaper x reader, rhytaari x reader, cw: rough fucking, breeding kink, knotting ꒱

the sound of soft groans would scatter across hallways of the abandoned estate. your asscheeks spanked rough and tender. while a pair of hips furiously fuck into you.

dioxazine eyes not once wanting to leave the beautiful sight before him on the altar. a whine leaving the man above you.

a whine, you’ve never heard him whine so pathetically before. perhaps it is the amount of times you have milked him dry now? did it really even matter at this point. the both of you were panting and digging into each other for more. with nails piercing skin and tearing at away at the other.

blood still trickles down your arms and waist. sometimes a smooth and soft tongue rakes across the droplets of red too.

to hàoyu, it is all a signature of your love for him.

to bleed for a rhytaari, is to bleed out of the deepest kind of love.

“fuck, i— ‘m close once more.” bled into the walls as he whispered erratically in your ear. breath fanning against your face. while you groan, taking in each and every inch that he had.

“hàoyu— fuck, hurry up.” you growl impatiently, yanking at his hair and earning a loud and gutteral moan from the man. hips stuttering against yours as he shoots another load of cum inside of you. his body trembling.

to think one could make a rhytaari so sensitive. moan so pathetically.

you loved each and every moment of the power you had over him. the power he had over you, as well. when he would show it.

with another yank of his hair, his hips stuttering again. you push him back into one of the row seats and sit him there. riding him and pushing a few more streaks of cum out of him.

“b— baobei— baobei.” he groans, and with shaky hands grab your hips and begin controlling them for you. which leads to your own ultimate undoing, your words spluttering everywhere. the curves of your body jiggling along with the pace.

and all he does is laugh messily at your own pathetic look.

“you wanted to get pregnant? i’ll fucking make you pregnant. give you a fucking baby or two. maybe more,”

you don’t remember much after that sentence, passing in and out of the pleasure. until the both of you come to a stop eventually and catch your breaths. one leaning against the other and shivering.

“hàoyu” the whine reaches his ears and his eyes roll back a bit from the giddy feelings it brings him to hear you call for him with such desperation and need still.

“shhh” he hushes you softly, keeping his cum plugged in, gently rubbing at the small bulge full of cum in your tummy.

“let us get you some rest my dear. let me make you some tea and something to eat. hmm? did so so well. . .”

with a sigh, he picks you up and carries you with him back to the bedroom. stroking your hair gently as you lay there in your haze. smiling at him like a lovesick fool.

[rikotin]

"I love everything you are. Both your good and bad traits." "Are you sure?" "I am."

CENTURY OF LOVE (2024)

[yearning-for-autumn]

pls oh pls oh pls can you write something with jealous/possessive azriel. not like dark and toxic but ya know. ur night at the opera was great

My Love, Mine all Mine

A/N: I loved this request, and I loved writing this. I'm scared to put this out into the world because it's probably the filthiest thing I've ever written, but I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 871

Warnings: Absolutely sinful smut, face slapping (but like you enjoy it), jealous/possessive Azriel

“Mine.” He growled, teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your neck. You whimper and his grin is feral as he licks over the mark, soothing the hurt. Your neck and shoulders are already littered with bites and bruises, but it would take much more to satisfy Azriel.

He knew it was irrational to be this jealous, Cassian was a flirt and always had been. But when he saw you giggling, batting your eyelashes at his brother in arms, he couldn’t help the primal rage that consumed him. He grabbed your arm, knowing deep down you were trying to provoke him. His shadows swirled around your throat, and Cassian’s laughter was the last thing either of you heard before you were winnowed up to his room. Azriel was on you in an instant, frustrated, angry, his teeth close to drawing blood.

“Need to make them know you’re mine.” He mumbled against your skin. All clothes had been shoved off by now, and you were lying prone beneath him. His hips rutted against the bed as he lay on top of you, restraining you with his body weight, pinning you beneath him. His scarred hands held yours over your head so that even as you wriggled you were helpless to escape. He snarled.

“Where are you trying to go, Bunny? Hmm?” And you gave up. He chuckled lowly.

“If you want to be free so much, here.” He pulled you up and sat up against the headboard, patting his thighs. “Come ride me.”

If you weren’t already wet enough to take him, you were now. So much so that your inner thighs glistened. Azriel dragged his gaze from your bitten neck, to your soaking centre. His shadows curled around your lower back, forcing you to crawl over and straddle his hips. Azriel lifted you so that you sat up on your knees and bent down, licking the wetness from your thighs. A gravelly moan emanated from deep in his chest. He loved to taste his girl. Your breath shallowed as he drew closer to your pussy with every swipe of his tongue, then he stopped just short of it. You whined,

“Azzie, please.” You begged, but were greeted only by a feral smirk. He pushed you down hard onto his cock without warning and you choked out a moan, the size of him filling every inch of you. Your head tipped back and your tongue lolled as he thrust upwards, setting a punishing pace, bouncing you feverishly in his lap as his eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck yeah, f-fuck, you’re my girl. Say it. Say you’re my girl.” He groaned, his hands squeezing your bum as he lifted you up and dropping you down over and over. You slurred incoherently, unable to form thoughts more complex than ‘Azriel, Azriel, Azriel.’ This wasn’t enough and with an unnecessary show of strength he flipped you over, your legs trapped under him and hooked over his shoulders. A mating press. You squealed as his length twitched inside of you and he began pounding into you, brushing your cervix. His shadows swirled around you neck and squeezed. He laughed at something they whispered to him, but he didn’t share it with you. Leaning down, Azriel licked the shell of your ear, nibbled at your earlobe.

“I asked nicely, bunny.” He said lowly, “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m your, I-I’m all yours.” You rasp, “I’m your girl, Azzie.”

“Fuck yeah you are. You’re not Cassie’s girl.” He growled.

“I-I wasn’t—” You were cut off with a smack, Azriel’s hand coming up to hit you across the cheek. Tears welled in your eyes at the sting, but it sent hot stripes of pleasure down your stomach. You shouldn’t love it, but Cauldron you did. Azriel cooed, rubbing his hand gently over your reddening cheek. He kissed you, so softly, his pace slowing to give you a much needed break. A few tears spilled over. Azriel looked down at you with an intensity of love that knocked the wind from you, you curled your fingers in his soft hair. Peppering you with little kisses he began thrusting into you again.

“I love you, babygirl.” He soothed, and you smiled up at him, cock drunk.

“I love you, Azzie.”

His hand snaked down between you to thumb at your clit and his pace picked up as he chased his release. Your own high was building quickly, your stomach tightening and head falling back against the pillows. You bucked your hips and tightened your fingers in his hair as you broke around him with a scream. Your vision blurred and your head felt dizzy. Azriel rode you through it, his forehead falling to yours as his hips stuttered and he filled you with his seed, claiming you. He came hard and by his pained moans, it felt amazing. Your hand stroked down the small of his back, encouragingly.

As he pulled out, a trail of cum came with him and you both stared at the utter mess he had made of you. You trailed a finger into it, and brought it up to your mouth, licking it clean as Azriel watched with wide eyes.

“Mm,” You moaned gently, “You’re all mine, Az.”

A/N: This is an established relationship fic, I firmly believe Azriel would have already established sexy boundaries with you. And best believe the aftercare after this would be second to none. Anyway, thank you for requesting!

[soloragoldsun]

So, guys. I'm sitting over here feeling totally normal about Cherrisnake and Angelhusk.

Totally normal about the fact that both Pentious and Husk are absolute gentlemen and would be so freaking doting and kind to Cherri and Angel, who probably haven't experienced real romance since before coming to Hell, if at all.

Definitely not screaming over how Cherri and Angel are precious chaos gremlins who would drag their boyfriends into amazing shenanigans and make out with them at the most inopportune and dangerous moments (Cherri especially got a taste for that after the battle).

Absolutely not going feral over how neither Husk nor Pentious are specifically after sex, and how Angel and Cherri probably will struggle with how to show affection in another manner because casual and/or abusive sex is all they've experienced, and what do you mean they don't owe their partners sex??? Cue non-sexual intimacy, tender kisses, and ALL THE CUDDLES!!!

Not at all screaming over the sweet, sweet slowburn we'd BETTER freaking get in Season 2!

[daydreams-after-dark]

Submission

You're billionaire Lee Minho's "plaything", but tonight the tables have turned and he let's you dom him.

Approx word count: 3.4k

WARNINGS: 18+ adult fanfic: NSFW // contains depictions of explicit sexual content // unsafe vagina sex // use of sex toys // light bandage // vaginal fingering // explicit language // nudity // light dom/sub // plaything kink // implied orgasm and ejaculation.

a/n: This story was originally posted on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams but I'm in the process of moving some of them over here that fit the 'after dark' vibe.

“Nu uh, Lee Minho. Don’t even think about fighting back. Tonight you are my plaything.” You pushed Minho to sit on the edge of the bed in the run down, seedy hotel room.

The man growled angrily. He hated being in this position. He was born a dom. He ALWAYS dommed. He gave the orders. He was in control.

“This is what you wanted, remember?” You spat into his ear and tugged at his sandy brown hair, pulling his head back hard to reveal his long, slender neck. Fuck, you loved seeing his neck exposed like that. The glow from the neon signs outside the window casting a glow against his skin that changed from blue to red to green.

You bit your lip and climbed onto his lap, and licked along the vein in his neck, tracing it up to his jaw, and then yanked his head back down so you could smash your mouth on his.

Minho met you with the same aggression and gripped your hips, digging his fingers in so hard you yelped.

“So you are going to be bad are you? Hmm?” you said, staring into his dark eyes.

You felt so alive and in control tonight. Normally you were the sub in this… arrangement? Yes, arrangement was the best way to describe this dynamic. You couldn’t call it a relationship because it was only about sex, and the rules were clear. You were billionaire Lee Minho’s “Plaything” for him to do as he pleased. It usually involved him taking care of you first, prepping you, getting you ready for what he had in store, then going absolutely feral on you. He had the perfect balance of tenderness and coldness and you were absolutely addicted.

You knew it was a dangerous game, for your heart, especially when you learned you were the only one. Minho was exclusive with you, and sometimes you wondered what that meant. There were nights you would lay awake and your mind would entertain the forbidden possibility of an actual relationship. You’d berated yourself for it, and reminded yourself of the reality of what this really was. Fucking. Secretly. You were his toy for him to fuck and use. And when he was ready, he was going to toss you aside like garbage.

But there was no way you could break this arrangement off. The sex was too exciting and too good. Minho knew what your body craved, what it could take, and he played with the edges of your limits. It was erotic, delicious, raw and sensual all at once.

But tonight Minho was your “plaything”. Your fuck toy to tease. Taunt. Use.

You were so excited when Minho texted you to meet at the hotel room tonight. You were especially excited when he said he wanted you in your leather corset and stockings “No panties” he’d instructed. This was the outfit he’d bought you so that you could dom him. You had waited weeks for him to finally give you permission to wear it, and you were going to make the most of it. You weren’t sure when you’d get the chance again.

You and Minho used this room every week. In fact, Minho purchased the room, like one would purchase and apartment.

“Do you like it?” he’d asked you when he showed you the first time in the middle of the day, a big grin on his face.

You had run your eyes over the peeling paint, the dirty carpet and flimsy windows. It was the most fucking seedy, nasty place you had ever been in. The view out the window was of equally rundown buildings, a nightclub, and most likely the offices of loan sharks.

It was foul. But it was perfect for what Minho had planned for you both. Even tonight, the ingrained pungent smell of cigarettes still permeated your nostrils, but you didn’t mind. You loved being in this room. Loved feeling dirty.

Minho never attempted to repaint, or make the place comfortable, except for the expensive bed in the middle of the room. The headboard he chose was made for being restrained with vertical wrought iron bars lined up between the end posts.

You planned to tie Minho to it tonight.

“If you’re going to bad, I’ll just stop.” You said bluntly. Minho whined. He never whined. It was usually you.

You slid off of his lap and retreated to the scruffy armchair in the corner of the room. He’d picked that up off the side of the road. Said it would add to the nastiness of the room. It was shit, and torn and smelt like god knows what.

“Strip.” You commanded.

You could see Minho was fighting an internal battle. His face contorted, his mouth pressed in a firm line. He wanted to argue, deny, fight back against you. But he also knew that he wouldn’t get to feel your mouth or pussy around his cock if he misbehaved.

You wondered if he was regretting agreeing to this.

But you were sure he’d be reminding himself of the bigger picture. He just needed to get through this first part. Humour you. Then he’d be able to get his chance to turn the tables and fucking tear up your pussy. You knew this too. It was a game, and in the end Minho will win.

You crossed your legs. You were wet, your bare pussy pressed against the worn out fabric, and you knew that you would be adding to the unidentifiable stains on the chair cushion.

“I said strip, Minho.” You repeated sternly.

The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk before standing up at the foot of the bed.

He glared at you, staring you down thinking it would intimidate you. Sometimes Minho would forget that you had the capability to play games with him.

Slowly his hands reached for the buttons of his shirt, and you licked your lips with anticipation as he discarded the expensive designer garment on the filthy carpet.

You inched your legs apart when his hand went to his belt. Your eyes didn’t leave his as he removed his trousers and boxers. Your mouth hung open in awe as you drank in the sight of a fully naked Lee Minho. A sigh escaped you and you swallowed hard.

He was perfect. Never in your entire life had you seen a man so effortlessly attractive. So perfectly proportioned. So fucking toned. So fucking strong.

You decided you were going to make him wait, torment him somewhat before you allowed him access to your body. You knew that’s what he wanted most in this moment. To devour you.

You threw a leg over each chair arm, exposing yourself to the man you wanted to torture. Minho raised an eyebrow as if to say “you bitch, you’re gonna pay for this”, while he watched your hand slide down between your legs to find your dripping centre and slipping two fingers easily inside yourself.

You moaned, closing your eyes. You knew this would make Minho angry. It turned you on. Your eyes slowly opened and you saw Minho standing there pathetically with his hand around his cock.

“Hands off, Minho.” You removed your glistening fingers and stood up “you know you’re not allowed to touch yourself.” You walked towards him stopping just centimetres in front of him. He could grab you and throw you on the bed if he really wanted to. “Does Minho need to be taught a lesson?” You say shoving your wet fingers into his mouth. “Hands off your dick, put them behind your back.” 

Minho groaned but did as you said. His eyes closed as he licked every last drop from your digits. He was so fucking sexy. You almost wanted him to take control and punish you right then.

“On the bed.” You whispered coldly.

Minho gave you one last long stare, his eyes darkening, a hint of a smirk appearing as he proceeded to look you up and down. He didn’t know you saw a glimmer of excitement in his expression. It made your stomach tighten in the way it did when you thought about Minho as more than a fuck buddy.

Wordlessly, Minho climbed up the bed, laying his head on the pillow. He waited and watched you as you picked up a large briefcase and climbed up to sit beside his legs. You noticed his fat, hard dick was leaking as it rested against his lower abdominals. So tasty, you thought. You pulled out the set of velvet ties that would normally be restraining you and proceeded to straddle Minho. He automatically began to jut his hips up desperately trying to make contact with your pussy, and his hands groped for your tits.

“MINHO!” you growled. “Fucking stop moving, or I’ll leave you here and go find someone else to fuck.”

Minho whined “I just need to feel you, kitten.” He whimpered painfully.

“You’ll feel me when I say you can. If I say you can.” Reminding him who was in control.

Minho grunted, but his protests died down quickly.

“Arms above your head, plaything.” You said, peeling his grip from you and securing it to the bed-frame. “Other hand.” Minho complied and you suddenly found yourself in a position you had never been in before. Minho helpless and bound to the bed.

He started to growl like a caged wild animal when you lifted off him and retreated to sit on the bed between his calves. He yanked at the restraints making the bed shake. His back arched up off the mattress. Sweat began to drip down his brow onto the side of his face, the neon glow hitting the droplets in the most divine way. “Fucking hell, come back.” He demanded. “Just fuck me already.”

Ignoring his protests you reached into the briefcase again. This time to choose your toy. There were two dildos to choose from. The first was obscenely massive. When Minho presented it to you for the first time, you thought he had lost his mind. It was literally twice as thick as Minho himself, and he was extremely well endowed. Your eyes had bulged wide, and it made Minho laugh. “You can take it. I know you can. I promise it’ll feel good”, he’d promised. He seemed to have a kink for seeing how wide he could stretch you. He’d often use it on you, mouth hung open as your pussy slowly stretched around it, taking it in, filling you up. Then after he was done he’d proceed to fuck you with his cock. Minho didn’t seem to feel inadequate or in the slightest bit fazed that he wasn’t able to stretch you as much as that dildo. “Can a dildo slap against the back of your legs when it thrusts into you? Can it pin you to the mattress, or the wall? Can it caress your tits, or ravish your mouth in kisses? Is it human? Does it care? Does it think you’re precious?” So no, he didn’t have any insecurities about that fat, obnoxious dildo.

Tonight you chose the second option. Slimline. Cheap. Barely any vibration power. Yes, if you came on this dildo it was bound to offend the man writhing on the bed.

You wrapped your fingers around the smaller toy and hooked a leg over each of Minho’s shins so that you were once again spread wide open, giving Minho full view of your pussy. The billionaire glared at you with dark eyes. 

You were so wet you didn’t require any extra lubrication, the dildo sliding into your vagina easily. You gasped airily as you began to fuck yourselves with the inanimate object. In front of Minho. Helpless, pathetic Minho. Well, he wasn’t completely helpless. If he wanted to he could use his strong legs to hurtle you on top of him. He was definitely holding back and letting you think you were in control.

You spread your legs a little wider, angling the dildo so that it would massage your g-spot. You moaned low and deep and your hips began to roll forward against it. You were feeling overheated in the leather corset and the perspiration made your skin glisten. You knew you looked sexy. You closed your eyes for a few moments relishing the feeling of bringing yourself pleasure whilst the man who is normally so in control can do nothing but watch.

“Fuck, gorgeous. Look at you.” He jeered. Your eyes flung open to meet Minho’s condescending eyes. “Your so fucking needy that even a flimsy little dildo is making you go dumb. Pathetic.”

You smirked at his attempt at belittling you. “Minho, darling,” you panted. Fuck your were close. “Don’t you think it’s you who looks pathetic?… That I don’t even need your cock to come?” You upped the pace as your desire built and the tension in your pelvis grew stronger.

“How does it make you feel Lee Minho… knowing that this shitty little dildo can take me over the edge?” You ran your gaze over him. His cock was desperately engorged and still leaking pre-cum on his stomach. His muscles tense and the veins in his forearms and neck strained.

“It’s driving me fucking crazy… You know it is” He hissed through clenched teeth. He looked at you with pure need. His eyes begging. His breathing laboured. A pained desperation on his face. This was the face that always made you come undone. It was the face that told you as much as he was a dom, or how much he loved playing games, he actually needed you.

You let out a pornographic moan as you took yourself to the stars, throwing your head back. The bulge of your breasts heaving as you floated back down to earth panting.

“Fuck… you don’t need me do you? All you need is your pretty fingers or some cheap ass toy, and your satisfied.” It wasn’t condescending or malicious. It was more like he was in awe. 

You withdrew the toy from yourself and crawled your way up to Minho, straddling him once again, hovering above him so that he still couldn’t feel you against him.

“Lick.” You whispered offering the dildo to his lips. He obliged, immediately opening his mouth and allowing you to force it deep into his throat. He gagged and his eyes began to water as you roughly fucked his mouth. 

“Come on baby, you should be able to take this… it’s not that big…” 

Minho growled and lifted his head to take more of the toy into his mouth, sucking and licking ferociously. 

“Good boy. You look like such a fucking slut for cock like this you know.” You praised removing the dildo. “So clean” you approved and tossed the toy to the side.

You leaned down to kiss him softly. Minho hummed as you deepened the kiss, and you finally slowly lowered yourself down onto his hips to grind against the length of his cock.

You slipped your tongue inside his mouth, tasting your own juices. You could feel his hips rolling rhythmically against you as your tongues gently caressed each other. You could feel your heart melting, a warmth spreading through your body. Why the fuck did this keep happening? Why did your heart have to get involved.

You pulled away from the kiss and searched Minho’s face, hoping his mean, cold, dark expression would snap you out of it. But that wasn’t the look he gave you. Instead he had soft, hooded eyes, a pink flush to his cheeks and and a look of fucking admiration on his face. His mouth even hung open like an idiot.

You leaned in to kiss him once more, then reached up to untie one of his hands.

That was a mistake.

In less than a second Minho had flipped you on your back, one hand still tied to the bed, his free hand pushing your leg up to your chest allowing him to ram his cock into you aggressively.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me, teasing me like that.” He growled, slamming himself into you hard. “Neglecting my cock like that.” He withdrew almost the whole way out and hammered into you once more, causing you to cry out.

“Taking care of yourself and not me.” He grunted.

Minho gripped the wrought iron bar with his restrained hand, using it as leverage to thrust into you ferociously, each thrust seemingly harder and rougher than the last. You welcomed it though. This was how Minho liked to fuck. You knew that when he got a chance tonight he’d take it. You just didn’t know which of the chances would take. It felt thrilling having him own you like this. It was as if he had no self control and that he’d go mad if he didn’t get his release. He fucked you hard for at least ten minutes. You didn’t know how he hadn’t come yet. Maybe he was too focused on evening the score or teaching you a lesson.

He slammed in deep hitting your cervix, then paused so he could kiss you sloppily, giving you a moment to catch your breath. He reached up and untied his still restrained hand and brought it down to push the hair off your forehead. He swallowed hard as he gazed at you.

“Minho…” you whimpered.

“What is it little plaything?” he said softly. You didn’t know what you wanted to say. You just felt overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotion that was coming over you.

“Wrap your arms around me.” He said “Hold me close.”

You felt confused by his request, but you found yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck as he laid flush on top of you. You could feel his entire torso against yours and the sudden increase in intimacy made you melt. You felt like hot liquid underneath him. Lee Minho could really do anything he wanted with you right now.

And it seemed he wanted to go slow, rolling his hips painfully slowly while his hands caressed your ass, the side of your body, even sliding up to cup your jaw while he made love to you with his tongue.

“Can we take this off?” he swallowed gesturing towards your corset. You nodded in response and Minho made quick work of removing it, still inside you, leaving you now only in your stay up stockings.

“Look at me, gorgeous.” He panted. You opened your eyes and watched the man above you as he continued to take you tenderly. “Is this okay?” he asked between long languid thrusts.

“It… it’s… so good.” You whispered. And it really was.

“Good. Because tonight proved to me just how much I fucking need you.” His eyes looked like they were tearing up. Surely not. It had to be from the strain of holding back his ejaculation, right?

“You saw me…. I can’t function without you. I fucking need you… I think about you the minute I wake up. ” He closed his eyes and a tear escaped, running down his face. He leaned back in to kiss you, perhaps to hide the fact he was getting emotional, and you tenderly kissed him back with as much care and love you could. You wanted him to feel safe enough to show you this vulnerable side of him.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in as close as possible, drawing a husky moan from the man making love to you. He nuzzled his face into your neck, sucking you skin delicately, marking you with damp tears. His body shivered like he had a fever.

“Oh, Minho.” You cried again. The sensations were overwhelming and confusing to you. But you didn’t want this to end. Your sweaty bodies slid together in the most beautiful way. His cock fucked you so carefully and deliciously, and his kisses were full of emotion. It was like he was trying to confess everything he felt for you in the way his lips connected to yours and the way he moved his body inside of you.

In that moment, nothing else existed. The pungent smell of the room, the neon lights, the sirens wailing by, all fell away as you both fell apart together.

~ Minho ~

He was not supposed to care. He was definitely not supposed to fall in love with you, and he was absolutely not meant to show his feelings in front of you.

But he fucking couldn’t help it could he?

“Lee Minho. You fucking idiot.” He scolded himself. “Why the fuck did you cry in front of her?” He ran his hand through his hair.

“Why did you tell you can’t function without her? That you think about her the moment you wake up?”

You were meant to be his “Plaything”. Merely the person with who he could explore his sexual desires with. He knew you’d be up for it. And you were. You even liked playing games with him.

Minho was the dom and you the sub. But that night in his seedy one bedroom apartment reserved only for sex with you, the night he let you be dom him and he broke down and cried, he let slip his feelings.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays

[l3viat8an]

Ok but can we agree out feral Vampire Beel would be? Just fucking F E R A L-

He’s so hungry all the time, and seeing your perfect neck, but he holds back. Until you accidentally cut yourself/bleed and now he can smell you, and he learns you’re his favorite blood type-

Que later on he’s just absolutely railing you, going between sweet deep tender kisses, biting you wherever he can, and down between your legs.

-🥀

Nsfw content MDNI

🥀!!!! Idk what possessed me- we’re not gonna talk about how fast I wrote this jsjsjsj CW: uhhh I wish I knew- Fem!Reader (no pronouns but a pussy), biting- lots-ish Beel cums on readers tummy cuz yea- ‘n Beel says sorry a lot…. I might’ve missed something cuz it’s 2am just lemme know!!

Exactly how you cut yourself is upto you cuz idk what you’d be doing-

As you move to clean your cut you turn around and see Beel, practically bumping into him…..but he seems a little different. His eyes are darker, and his fangs more prominent, you can feel your heartbeat quicken as he leans in closer to you.

"You smell different." He whispers, his nose now nuzzled into the crook of your neck, "Your blood...it smells sweeter…." He trails off eyes still locked onto your neck.

You try to step back, but his arms move too quickly, now he’s holding you in place, gripping your hips tightly.

"What does that mean?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It means..." He trails off, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in, "I…I need a bite, just one." It’s never just one with Beel-

Before you can even process what he's said, his fangs are on your neck, and you feel a jolt of pain before waves of pleasure take over. Beel's grip on your hips turns into his arms hugging you closer as he drinks from you, the sensations overwhelming your senses.

When he finally pulls away, you're left panting and dizzy, his eyes looking down at you with a mix of hunger and concern.

"Are you okay?" He whispers, and you nod, still too out of it to speak.

"I'm sorry..." He starts, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, "I couldn't resist. You smell too good and I was right, you taste so sweet.”

You can feel yourself blushing as you nod again.

"I really am sorry…..” Beel murmurs again, leaning in to give you a tentative kiss on the mouth short and sweet.

As he moves in for another soft kiss his hand starts to roam your body, and as he runs his hands over your curves, he discovers that he just can't resist touching you anymore. He wants to feel you in every way possible, to taste you and claim you as his.

He picks you up, ignoring your squeal and carries you to your bedroom, where he lays you down on the bed, his eyes filled with that strange hunger again.

And then he’s kisses you again, biting your lip softly and taking it between his teeth, licking the drop of blood away, before trailing kisses down your neck and chest.

He tugs your top off to keep kissing his way lower and his mouth finds your breasts, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting softly, before he moves down your body, next to be pulled off are your bottoms and underwear tossed carelessly away as Beel spreads your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he sinks his mouth between them, tasting you for the first time. You moan his name loudly, the sensations building inside of you.

He's so gentle at first, his tongue teasing and exploring, but as your moans get louder, he becomes more aggressive, his teeth biting down on your thighs for another taste of your sweet blood before he’s right back to your pussy.

The pleasure is overwhelming, and as Beel moves back up to kiss you, and you can taste yourself on his tongue.

"I'm sorry..." He murmurs again, his voice hoarse with desire, "I can't help myself around you. You're just too tempting."

He kisses you deeply, his hands running all over your body as he positions himself over you. He moves slowly, savoring every moment with you, his lips kissing every inch of your body.

You can feel the hunger in him as he thrusts into you, and as he starts to go faster and faster, your mind goes blank with pleasure. The only thing you can do is kiss him or moan his name.

He's rough and after savoring all of you it doesn’t take long for Beel’s only pleasure to catch up with him.

He pulls out and quickly jerks himself off, finishing all over your stomach while he groans your name.

“I’m sorry…I’ll clean you up. Just rest.” with one last kiss he walks off to get a towel.

When he comes back you’re sitting up a little waiting for him and he can’t meet your eyes sure he was too rough, “Beel, you don’t have to apologize so much. I liked it! hell I loved it!” You blush and your voice trails off but the way Beel looks at you is so soft….all he does is nod and move to start cleaning you up it’s a minute or two before he speaks “Then can we do it again sometime?” you laugh and it’s his turn to blush~

[chouxsardine]

Impure Jake thought at the moment (NSFW 18+! below cut)

CHIN TATTOO

imagine you having a chin tattoo (I'm talking about the ones that are under your chin, above your throat), being the ✨vaginatarian✨ that he is, Jake would absolutely go feral every time he sees it

imagine him having his face buried between your thigh, lapping you up so good that you couldn't help squirming around, so he has to pin you down by holding onto your thigh and your pelvis bone, his grip strong, firm, inescapable albeit reassuring

the pleasure so intense that your eyes roll back and you throw your head back, your back arches, and your chin lifted up, showing the tattoo

imagine him seeing the tattoo while he looks up at you, just the look of it snaps a string in his brain and sends a rush down his spine, he hips presses harder down onto the mattress and his tongue involuntarily thrusts a little deeper, pushing you right over the edge---

OR

imagine when you are riding him; similarly, he sees it when you tilt your head back, exposing your chin and neck,

imagine him taking one look at you , instantly his fingers digs into your hips harder, definitely leaving bruises (which will be affectionately kissed better by him later), and he sticks closer to kiss your chin right where the tattoo is, and gently nibbing on the tender skin around your exposed neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses all the way down before burying his head in the crook of your neck

every time he sees the tattoo, it reminds him that he is making his girl feel *that good*,

it is your body, your choice, but it has such a choke hold on him

AND

let's even dig a little dipper and have a classified discussion here:

Scenario 1: you already had the tattoo before you two are together, so the pattern could be anything

it doesn't matter, he will lose his sh*t over it anyways; and he gets so pavloved that whenever he sees that pattern or something that resembles that pattern anywhere outside the bedroom, his cock uncontrollably twitches in his pants

Scenario 2: you decided to get the tattoo after you two are together, and you want it to be something that is vaguely related to him, so let's say, you got a music note, a subtle one; and you're a music lover anyway, duh

you didn't tell him at first, you let him discover it himself. The first time he saw it----oh lord, he'd even be crazier, because in his mind, seeing a music note on your chin makes him think of all the sounds that you make---the moaning, the grunts, the whimpering of his name---while he's tasting/fucking you, which are no doubt, 100% 🎶music🎶 to his ears

btw yes i do feel like he will also take notice and remember the placement of your moles and birthmark, and he will randomly trace them when he's holding you

[onmyyan]

hello, i LOVE your writing and style and i took a social media break and came back and HOLY SHIT what a time to be alive

i got to thinking about your guys and i do love a reluctant darling, so ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable, so sorry if it does. but the guys doing the absolute m o s t to get this girl to like them. someone who maybe got a couple of rough exes and either knows what to look for and isn't looking for love. and the boys are just like :) oh :) to bad 💐 for you. they get her heart racing and she's a little nervous about it. shes got a mouth on her and aren't afraid to pop off on a rant about how she knows what they are (she doesn't)

Marcos? psh you'll cheat and laugh about it with your friends at some party. you think you can get away with it just cuz you're good looking? go find another person to piss off. and he's all like ☺️you think i'm hot😊😚 love the idea of her being a snarky bar tender at his favorite bar and they have a will they won't they sitcommy type relationship

manny? just buy the book and leave, girlies on the clock, no she doesn't care how good he looks on the motor cycle. totally not. definitely, definitely not. she doesn't worry when he goes really fast on it, it doesn't make her scared. girls just trying to get paid and get peace.

ricky? oh big strong man trying to boss her around? she doesn't need all that. she sees through that tough exterior and her rbf is worse than his. but it ain't resting. she's just loving life with her friends (who aren't as available anymore?? i wonder why??) and she doesn't care when he runs his fingers through his hair. she doesn't want to do that. she'll get her car fixed there- sure- but she won't like it.

gabe? sure he seems fun but ultimately she views him like a movie sequel, seems fun until about halfway through when you see it's the same plot as last time. no way is she falling for that old trick again. yeah he's nice, and and he helps her with groceries when he sees her walking with all those bags. bare minimum raise it, gabriel.

caspian? when's that other shoe drop? when does the sweet charming teddy bear end? (never)and yeah his pastries are delicious. and he's nice. and smells like cookies. and- oh fuck she's in love, better avoid him but SOMEHOW the man is everywhere. doesn't matter. she needs a night in, and yeah she misses him when she's in her place alone. little does she know how close he is. she won't be lonely anymore ☺️

ashley? she can fix up her own house, thank you very much. she's not interested in some old fashion cowboy and his old fashion values. or his arms. or the way he checks in on her, making sure she's settled in ok, finding her way around town, if she's eating alright and if she needs anything and woah- what's wrong with this door? he'll fix it and no. he doesn't want money. she doesn't owe him anything but, if she wants to grab a drink she's always welcome to join him. she won't be thinking about what would've happened if she took him up on that late that night. or how she made fun of his accent.

diego? WHY is there chickens on her door, and WHY is it w o r k i n g? and where is the shirt she was wearing yesterday? it's laundry day. feral fella makes sure everything's going alright and she's got everything she needs. she doesn't want some man following her around like an over grown puppy. or does she?

imagine them giving her they're number and getting a drunk text like

"you don't suck anymore ❤️" and they go feral

anyways hope you like that and are having a good day/night. i do wonder if any of them kidnap darling like in sharing is caring (my guess is ricky, ash, and manny in no particular order) and how they'd deal with a darling like this. have a wonderful day/night.

This is amazing and made me smile like a fool the whole time I read it!! Like wowiewowie you totally nailed the characterization of the guys and I love how sweet and nervous the reader is about this seemingly perfect dude ugh thank you for sending this baby in I adore it

[faytelumos]

Dude the way I'm eating your tags like they're my last meal on death's row!! I'll do the same here. Can you IMAGINE the standard Thomas sat when he became a father.

This wild, rowdy, firecracker of a man Gotham grew from golden soil and made him dirty, becoming a dad? Oh man.

Especially in the black and white era, where the most proficient job you could have in Gotham was a gangster. Second was a thief. Third was politician, but they mean the same thing anyway.

No man was particularly attached to fatherhood, " Yeah, I see my brats once a week. "

" Sheesh, you're lucky. I had to cut back work when my wife delivered. I just don't get why I have to do be there. What's your stance on that, Thomas? Does the husband have to be there?"

Thomas, smiling like a feral tiger: You know I delivered my baby, right?

OOOKAY, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS!

Okay, be Thomas Wayne, doctor, philanthropist, old money, living in Gotham with your beautiful wife and your beautiful boyfriend, and you're having a son.

(Martha makes a funny joke about needing more girls in the house, and Alfred reminds her she throws most of her feminine relationships away after a month and a half.)

This is Gotham city. This place breeds corruption and desperation like a petri dish. You inherited the role of a founding family heir from a father you never liked and every secret organization and mobster has been trying to put you in their pocket since.

And now you have a beautiful, tender, delicate baby boy.

Absolute fucking terror.

This boy is going to be a target for every walk of life from the ground to the sky. This boy is going to get seductive offers to corruption every day, this boy is going to be a walking paycheck for anyone who's in trouble, this boy is small, and vulnerable, and yours, and he's meat and money to everyone else out there.

His future is altogether uncertain, but there's a million possibilities out there, and most of them are terrible, and it's the worst kind of anxiety.

On top of this, based on your fic, Thomas did not have any kind of healthy relationship with his dad.

This makes it so much harder. Now you're Thomas, worried to death that the world is gonna eat your son alive, and wondering what kind of father you're gonna be.

Fatherhood and manliness are two toxic chemicals that mix into the water as far as Thomas can tell. Maybe Tommy can sleep a little easier knowing Alfred will be there, knowing Bruce's other father won't be taking Tommy's shit, will also be looking out for his boy. Maybe having such a good person there, too, will protect Bruce from the boogeyman inside every other man that is Fatherhood.

Because Thomas never met a father he liked. Thomas hated Ben. And he's so terrified he's going to be just like him.

But besides all of this, Thomas is here, now, holding his newborn baby in his hands. It was crazy getting ready for it — everyone was asking him if it was really a good idea for him to be delivering his own baby, but honestly, he would never forgive himself if he missed that chance. It was crazy, because Martha, his absolute fireworks show, his light in the dark, was soldiering through all of the contractions and the pain all the way to the delivery room. And Alfred's just outside, putting out fires all over the manor as they get ready for a bump turned into a baby, Tommy's rock calmly pacing and bringing order and certainty to a day so very full of chaos and fear.

And it's a lot. It's so much. But in the scrubs, with the mask and the gloves, Tommy's hands are steady and he breathes evenly, and he holds his wife's and child's lives in those hands, and he loves them endlessly. Nothing can go wrong, and he wouldn't trade the chance to be there for both of them through this for anything.

He's scared, of himself, of Gotham, but as his little boy's growing up, he just takes the moments he can get and he does everything in his power to make his little mini-me boy as happy as physically possible. He takes every moment to give Bruce what he wanted at that age.

[purecantarella]

Well Worth the Wait

we're coming on the home stretch here yall HAHAAHH i hope yall enjoy!! kim jennie x reader disclaimer/s : smut. i suggest going to read some fluffier or angstier content

(this gif is making me feral)

Jennie adored attention, most especially when it came from you. The way you looked at her made her knees melt then and there. So respectful and loving, but it was a completely different story when she was half naked looking at you with an intense gaze.

The way your eyes shifted from the tender gaze to a hungry one turned her on to no end.

You'd been swamped with work all weekend and it was beginning to get on Jennie's nerves. She was given the weekend off to take time for herself before the concerts and you had barely left your desk, only standing to pee, eat, or pass out on the bed for twenty minutes.

All the while Jennie watched you from your office couch, impatiently waiting for a free moment from you. Eyes sparking to life with excitement when you smile down at your laptop and stretch out your back with a triumphant cry.

You finally look over at her with a warm smile and nodding slightly opening your arms for her as she runs into you. Both of you begin laughing as you peck her lips over and over again with a soft smile on your lips as Jennie stroked your neck up and down.

"I'm glad I have your attention now, N/n...I was thinking—" The sharp ringing of your phone pulls you both out of the perfect bubble you were in. You click your tongue before picking the call up, "Yes, hello?" You say into the phone before your brows crease, irritated.

You put Jennie down as you circle back around your desk, "I'm checking back on it now, give me one moment." You smile at her apologetically as you continue your conversation as Jennie pouts.

She sighs deeply and begins to walk out of your office, thinking she'd just go out with her other friends and make up with you later. But as her hand slides up against the frame of your door, an idea hits her. A smirk creeps up on her lips as she turns around to face you.

Your eyes still trained on the bright screen of your laptop. Jennie lifts her leg, dragging the sock off of her foot before she tossed it your way. Shocked at the sudden piece of cotton on your laptop screen you look up and have to stop yourself from cursing as you look into Jennie's sultry gaze.

Your mouth dries up as she takes the other sock off, throwing it backwards this time. She strides over to you slowly, her hips jutting out dramatically with every step the rapper took. Her hands sit atop the hem of her shorts, pushing them down slowly, exposing the black silk piece under it.

You swallow as you lower your laptop screen to get a better view of her legs. She smirks as she watches the transition in your eyes, want clouding your gaze. Only to be ripped back into the conversation, "Uhh, ehem, yeah I'm still here. It just got really hot in my office..." You explain with a nervous laugh, "Really, really hot..." Your voice trails off as her shorts fall to the floor, exposing the silk panties the clung to her tight ass and pretty little cunt.

"The uh, report is..." Your voice cracks as she slowly pulls her shirt from her torso, Jennie's toned stomach flexing as her arms elongated over her head. Her Calvin Klein bra cupping her chest perfectly, showing off the valley of her breasts, the sides of them poking out and teasing you.

"L/n are you there? Hello?" Your co-worker calls out as your attention now fully on Jennie as she tosses the shirt to the side. A playful smirk gracing her lips, her hand running through her dark locks. Everything bouncing as she walks around your table to you.

With still no reply, your co-worker continues to speak while Jennie straddles your lap. Her plump lip catch on her teeth as she leans closer to you, "Hang up."

Your breath shakes as hers fans your cheek, tickling your neck in the process. Her hips move against you, barely brushing against you driving you absolutely crazy.

Finally, you snap when she moans into your ear. Your hands grab her waist, forcing her onto your desk, pushing your papers out of the way. Your eyes stare into hers as your breathing begins to sound labored.

"I'm going to have to get back to you, buddy." You husk into the phone, your tone of voice flooding Jennie's body with want. You don't wait for your co-worker to say anything before slamming the phone down, dropping the call. Your lips take the rapper's roughly as you pin her down onto the wood of your desk. "Impatient little slut, Jen." You snarl into her neck as you suckle on her sensitive skin, making her cry out desperately with a blissed out smile on her face.

Her bare leg hikes up your body as your hand pokes past her underwear. The pleasure you forced onto her being well worth the wait as Jennie's jaw drops, moans echoing through the entire room.

You two accumulated quite the noise complaint the next day.

asdfghjkl don't sue me, my brain is fried at this point HAHAHAHA but i still quite like how this one came out ngl. i hope you all enjoyed it too!! i love you all vv much and i will see you all soon!! byeee 💓 - r

[shootingstarpilot]

Do you have any recommendations for fics where Qui-Gon is a good master/dad to Obi-Wan?

Oh, boy, do I!

Author-wise, I really cannot recommend @the-last-kenobi enough. Definitely the best source for some good master/dad Qui-Gon- they were actually the first SW author I started following! You can find their works here.

The vast majority of the works in my bookmarks under the Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi relationship tag have Qui-Gon being a good master/dad to Obi-Wan, so if you'd like, you can browse those here. Some of my absolute all-time favorites are listed below, but I love everything in my bookmarks!

The Melida/Daan Probation series by @trysomecats has some really good sweet interactions between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they try to rebuild their relationship.

Memory's Betrayal by @maychorian gets me every time. A oneshot with amnesia and Qui-Gon realizing he has the opportunity to do better.

The Recovery series by @firondoiel, @happygiraffe, @luvvewan, and @sanerontheinside is a masterpiece of long-term recovery from a severe injury- both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon survive Naboo, but Obi-Wan is left severely injured by Darth Maul. An achingly tender read.

I thought I fought this war alone by @stonefreeak, I just-- man, I have no words. It's a oneshot. Go read it. You won't regret it.

the massive machinery of hope by Kilbothtwins (I don't know if they have a Tumblr account) is an absolutely magnificent series- at the end of the war with the Empire, Obi-Wan wakes up in his twelve-year-old body and decides to be an utter BAMF about it. Qui-Gon is not 100% sure what's going on, but he trusts his Padawan and is enjoying himself immensely.

Invitation by @antheiasilva is one of my FAVORITES-- during an awkward Lineage dinner, Obi-Wan finds out that Qui-Gon had a shitty Padawanship and rallies magnificently in his defense. Sweet, well-written, and provides a wonderful glimpse of the budding Negotiator.

Patrilineal by @markwatnae is an absolute delight- with bonus Codywan! General Jinn is dispatched to join the 212th, and Cody can't quite figure out the relationship between him and his General.

I can't imagine that you haven't heard of the Mission Report series by @smilebackwards yet, but just in case, I'll add it here! A brilliantly done series that gets me every time-- Qui-Gon survives Naboo and finally manages to start repairing his Padawan's shredded self-esteem. No lie, this makes me so emotional every time- they care so much about each other and I would die for them both.

Oh, my gosh, and also everything by @deniigi. My favorites are:

Owl Dad Qui-Gon in pines and needles (the follow-up to take flight is equally good, but only mentions Qui-Gon in passing).

poisoned chalice is EXCELLENT for post-Melida/Daan Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon trying desperately to cope.

skipping stones has some fantastic lineage feelings-- Feemor is going absolutely feral over his new Padawan brother. There is a lot of bonding and I am having a lot of Feelings.

And to round it off- sunshine_lollipops_and (also do not know their tumblr) has been putting out some top-notch good dad!Qui-Gon content lately! Learning Curve is, quite frankly, an adorable mission fic, and Tales from Teatime is a series of oneshots that range from hilariously funny antics to heart-wrenching hurt/comfort- all of it equally well-written!

Feel free to add your own recommendations-- I'm sure I'll end up reblogging with more additions soon enough, but I wanted to get this out today!

[childotkw]

Ahhh! I'm absolutely in love with your Lucemond fic snippets. The idea of Lucerys bonding with the Cannibal over their shared consumption of dragon flesh is just so *chef's kiss*. Also that line about Lucerys thinking about the way Arrax was still looking out for him even in death. My poor heart. I've seen a few people mention Lucerys surviving and bonding with him, but no one talked about how such a thing could come to pass when the dragon has a history of killing any who try to fly him.

A part of me can't help but think about the utterly dark and unhinged potential of their bond. Perhaps there is no real love and gentle affection between them, not like Lucerys' bond with Arrax, but they have a shared experience and an understanding of doing whatever it takes to survive. The Cannibal is always hungry for the flesh of his kin, and he can sense that same sort of hunger in his newly bonded. It resonates between them. It makes the ancient beast want to nuture that hunger, ensure that his feral little rider survives and grows stronger. The old dragon feeds Lucerys' need for revenge, and the human helps feed the beast's rage and cravings for battle and any spoils that he can claim. It creates a really beautiful and terrifying sort of symmetry.

And now for an utterly depraved idea...

Imagine the Cannibal swooping in and fighting an enemy dragon while Lucerys is involved in some skirmish on the ground and ripping off a chunk of flesh. The Blacks win the fight and the dragon lands and presents the lump to its rider like an offering.

Lucerys is quiet as he watches the great dragon lower its massive head and nudge the meat towards him. He can hear the whispers of onlookers calling his bonded a monster and how they should all fear for their lives. Through their bond he can feel Cannibal's quiet encouragement. Here. The flesh of your enemy. Eat. Be strong. With Cannibal's thoughts echoing in his head head, he opens his mouth and commands, "Dracarys."

The dragon's flames errupt forth, scorching the meat in a controlled burst of emerald fire. The gathered crowd watches on in shock and horror as the Prince draws out a knife and slices away a strip of seared meat. The Cannibal throws back his head with a proud roar as the boy accepts and his teeth sink into his gift.

(Tell me Aemond wouldn't go absolutely unhinged and feral over finding out Lucerys ended up eating Arrax in order to survive and may have just eaten a piece of one of the Green's dragons. It'd probably be worse if it was Vhagar that was injured too. Haha.)

I'm frothing at the mouth with this - it's like you're in my head.

When I thought up the whole symbolic cannibalism of Lucerys eating bits of Arrax to survive, I was so giddy. It happens rarely, but some of the things my brain comes up with honestly blow me away. I just immediately sat down and went yes YES this is what I need.

Poor boy is going to Go Through Some Things under my tender care. Just a dash more trauma and survivor guilt to make him extra spicy.

Lucerys will be walking a very fine line for most of this - and god am I excited to dive into his bond with Cannibal.

The unspoken understanding between them, that soul-deep connection, distorted reflections of each other…it'll be so good.

Lucerys' gradual shifts in personality, guided by Cannibal's own - it's like being caught in the tail of a comet. Cannibal is old, he has been around since the dawn of the Targaryen dynasty, and Lucerys is so young, too young to be able to keep himself grounded in the face of such a force of nature. Cannibal's hunger, that insatiable bloodlust - it'll start to bleed through, and Lucerys will be made into something new.

Especially in the beginning, when their bond is so fresh, Lucerys will feel the need to reinforce their connection. But once they've settled into their new dynamic, that will be when it becomes…routine for him. Normal. The disgust and shame mostly doused by the heady rush of power that comes from being a predator.

Once the war begins in earnest, and they are too valuable to leave wallowing on Dragonstone, Lucerys takes to eating his meals with Cannibal. He doesn't always partake in whatever prey Cannibal hauls in - sometimes it's enough for him to simply mime that act; but more often than not he'll return to camp with animal blood staining his mouth and hands.

The men are unnerved, Targaryens have always been…queer to outsiders, but who are they to question a dragon? Who are they to question Lucerys Velaryon, the rider of one of the largest dragons alive, and who is said to be unkillable?

No. They merely avert their eyes from the boy when he returns from visiting his beast, keeping their thoughts to themselves and praying that the day never comes when they are seen as prey.

(And as for Aemond? Well, when he hears the rumours surrounding Lucerys, when he hears how he drenches his pale skin in the blood of his kills, when he hears the way people speak of the boy with hushed fear instead of scorn…he can't help but laugh.

Because Lucerys had always been a violent, hungry little creature.

It's just now that everyone else sees the truth.)

[creeppostss]

Anon with the headcanons request from a minute ago. More specifically what are your dark nsfw headcanons? Any uncommon opinions on EJ? What that eldritch horror peen do.... 😇

..... i am clinically obsessed he has been my comfort character for a decade 🤭

EJ IS MY FAVORITE EEK

I hope these will be as good as you're hoping!! enjoy anon!

GN mentioned with some references to AFAB/AMAB but they're just hcs so it doesn't really change anything!

NSFW under the cut!!

This isn't necessarily dark, but I feel like EJ would have a HUUUUGE breeding kink. He yearns to see his cum drip from any of your holes, and he'd repeatedly fill you just to watch it all seep out. Pump you full and plug you up, take you out in public somewhere to watch you get embarrassed.

We all know he's got sharp as shit teeth. And he would ABSOLUTELY use them on you. Anywhere you have open skin is free real estate to him, making quick work to bloody up and mark the most tender skin on your body.

To follow up, during sex, he absolutely uses his teeth to latch onto you when he's cumming. He doesn't mind the position, but usually picks one where he can see your face and hear you. Although, he isn't opposed to shoving your face into the pillows while you scream.

BONDAGE. He loves seeing you tied up and helpless, squirming under him like some little worm!!! Bonus points if the restraints leave marks on you, he'd absolutely adore that afterwards.

If you're AFAB, he'd 100 fucking percent DEVOUR you on your period. He'd almost beg to do so, twirling his tongues up into you to taste all your delicious goodness just for him.

If you're AMAB, he'd bite all over your inner thighs, tearing up the skin until it bleeds and he gets to lap up the resulting blood while he's sucking you off.

Because he's half demon, his dick is above average. Me and my friend occasionally dabble with the idea he has a tentacle for a dick, cause like, c'mon. Look at him. Human or tentacle dick, he knows how to use it. Could absolutely split you apart.

He takes pride in watching you choke on his cock, staring at you with such hunger in his eyes and grinning as you're gagging, choking and struggling to breathe. He only pulls your head back when he feels you can't take it anymore.

Tying in with that choking thing, he will wrap his hands around your throat while he's ruthlessly fucking into you and will strangle you until you're on the verge of passing out, and then he'll let go.

I've seen a lot of people headcanon that he goes into heat and I really enjoy that trope. I can imagine him locking himself in his room trying to avoid you but of course you come in and look so good he just can't possibly help but fuck you into his mattress until you're crying out of pleasure.

EJ is the type to try anything once before he says no, wanting to make sure you always feel good. If you tell him about a weird kink or fetish you have I'm sure he'd happily indulge you in that! He's not picky when it comes to you.

He definitely jerks off with your underwear, sniffing them as well. He'd cum in them if you're away, and lay them on your bed as a gift to tell you he was thinking about you.

I like to think that he's a bit of a stalker. ESPECIALLY if you show interest in him. He'd follow you around, stalk social medias if he has access, ask around about you, and find his way into your personal life. Definitely has a journal in his nightstand of information about you, maybe even a few cute polaroids of you sleeping.

He can be somewhat shy or absolutely overbearing depending if he's in heat or not. If he's in heat, he'll practically drag you to his room to carry out his disgusting fantasies. If he isn't, he'll approach it differently, touching you and sending subtle signs until you get it.

This absolutely does NOT carry over to sex. Once he has you under him he's feral. He lets his desires take over, and he will not stop for anything, unless you make it clear you are uncomfortable.

This being said, he's pretty good with aftercare! At first he doesn't really understand the concept but he begins to understand once he's messed with you more. He'll clean you up, snuggle with you afterwards and occasionally bring you something to drink or eat. Typically he tries to stay awake with you until you fall asleep first.

As for uncommon opinions, I feel as if he is more of a recluse. He stays in his room majority of the time unless he has to go on a mission. He leaves his room to talk to you and a few housemates. This doesn't mean he doesn't get along with the housemates, he gets along fairly well with everyone.

That's all I have for now! Thank you anon for the request! This was the request that really caught my eye first and I have a few others I'm working on!! Tips about writing and formatting are appreciated! Love y'all!!

[qqueenofhades]

i'm going feral about queer icon hob gadling thank you very much. I JUST CAN'T WITH HIM. i cry because in the comic in the 1989 panel there's a person at the inn talking about how "of course AIDS isn't a punishment from god." hob has to sit there and hear that and just. JUST. hob being visible! hob being vulnerable in his love! hob surviving all his friends. hob buying the fucking pub with the power of his queer money!!! committing the crime of graffiti to SPRAYPAINT A SIGN FOR HIS LOVE TO FIND

It is... probably because I am a queer historian and that is why I imprinted on Hob in the first place, but uh, yes, I have many feelings about this too, and the subtle way in which queer places and spaces work both in the show and in the Dreamling story specifically. Obviously there are many queer characters in Sandman (and we love it for that), but the White Horse, and then the New Inn, is one of the few physical locations I can think of that is a literal embodiment of queer devotion. Hob buys the old pub and builds the new one so Morpheus, if he does ever come back, can find him! He appropriated the spot where they met the first time, where their relationship was built over centuries, and he both saves the old one and builds a NEW one (new step in their relationship etc etc). And physically paints giant signs because his immortal boyfriend is very stupid! He makes it visible and explicit, he builds his devotion into every fiber of that pub, he does it especially so Dream can still come back and find him if he chooses, he waits patiently, and like... the New Inn is absolutely brimming with queer adoration, and ack.

Also, there was that tantalizing tidbit about the real, historical White Horse pub that the Sandman version was based on, being best known for being run by two women in the 18th century who called themselves "Mr. and Mrs. How." Granted, I found that in the IMDB trivia section and if I was writing an actual paper on it, I'd have to do a heck of a lot more research. However, happily, I am NOT writing a paper, and I say it's real because it feels right. In that case, the White Horse itself is embodied as a queer establishment, a place previously run by married lesbians in Hella Gay 18th-century London, and adds another layer to that being the place where Hob and Dream meet every century to conduct their careful, tentative, tender, unspoken romance.

But then! Tragedy! The pub has been bought and will be shut down, and with it, the physical and literal heart of Hob’s relationship with his "stranger!" As I wrote in my meta about the 1989 scene, everything is so careful, so subtextual, so unspoken, whether it is Hob saying he has been stood up and the bartender deliberately not assuming it was by a woman and offering oblique reassurance that Hob is safe here, as a queer man in violently homophobic 1989. So of course Hob can't stand to think of it going away, and has to save it both for himself and as a queer-friendly establishment! So he takes his queer money, as you say, and does something about it! Maybe bad people get to do whatever in this country with that money too, but so does Hob, and he can claw back a little of the place that has always most belonged to him (and him with Dream).

Hence the New Inn, where Hob absolutely hung Pride flags in the '90s long before it was cool or popularly accepted to do so, was able to use his status both as owner of the establishment and Queer Who Can Kick Your Ass to deal with anyone who had a problem with it, and otherwise keep it ready for the day when his love might get to show up again. It's beautiful! It's visible! It's symbolic! And then when Dream does walk in and make their relationship "visible," i.e. apologising and calling Hob his friend, they get to sit down together in that space that Hob has created and kept as an altar of queer devotion both private and public, they smile at each other adoringly, and then what scene/setting do we cut straight to??

THE GIANT BEATING HEART OF THE THRESHOLD OF DESIRE. FROM ONE BEATING HEART OF DESIRE MADE VISIBLE DIRECTLY TO THE OTHER.

They were insane for this, truly. Insane.

[tmnt-tychou]

Hello! Could you possibly do a Raph x fem reader where they are in a relatively new relationship and she wakes up next to him after s*xy times and realizes just how deeply she cares for him? Like, she’s kinda been mistreated by the world and is absolutely amazed about how tenderness is his true strength?

Okay so, technically, I'm not taking requests. But I also absolutely do not care what you guys send me in my Ask Box as long as we're talking about turtles. And if you send me something that tickles my imagination just right, you may just keep me up all night staring at my ceiling in the dark, writing a story in my head.

So here you go. (Also, love your user name @sais-matters LOL) Thank you so much for this lovely, lovely idea.

Everything Leaves A Mark

Raphael x Reader

Rating: PG-13 for some suggestive writing

Raphael slowly awoke with a long exhale, feeling better than he could ever remember feeling. It was the warm summer sun shining on him through an actual window. When had he ever awoken to the sunshine? It was the plush mattress and silky sheets of a bed that wasn't his. It was that deeply satisfying release of oxytocin that kept him in post-coital bliss.

It was his skin still remembering her touch, his body recalling her limbs wrapped around him. The heat of her surrounding him, holding him tight. Her breath, her soft whimpers in his ear. Her fingers digging into his shoulder. The memory of the entire night brought a deep thrumming in his chest. He practically purred as he stretched out on his stomach, face pressed to the silky pillow.

The faint scent of his lover's skin reached his nostrils and he wanted to chase it, to bury his snout into her warm neck and breathe her in deep until he was drunk on it. But as he reached to the other side of the bed he found it empty. Yet, he had the feeling he was being watched.

Raising his head, he found her sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, holding a warm, steaming mug in her hands. Watching him. No real expression on her face.

Raphael was used to that. Ever since the first time he met her, she was like a feral cat. Curious, around, but aloof. Always just out of reach. Careful about getting too close. Raphael thought that after a night like they had that she would be over such things. But there she was, out of reach and watching.

“Hey,” he said sleepily. “What ar'ya doing? Why don't you come over here?”

She was dressed in an overly large shirt, panties and socks. He could see all the way up to the curve of her backside as she leaned over and set her mug on the nightstand. Then she crawled over and sat closer to him. But still not close enough for his liking. He reached out to grab her ankle and she made a cute noise of surprise as he dragged her to him. Her shirt rode up as she slid across the bed and he pressed his face into her neck with a noise of satisfaction. Her body was warm and soft beneath his, exactly where he wanted her to be.

But she was also tense and not touching him. When he made no further move, she slowly relaxed.

“What's on your mind?” he murmured into her skin. “Talk to me.”

“I...thought you would have left before I woke up,” she admitted.

He slightly raised his face so he could look at her while resting his chin on her shoulder. “Now why would I do that?”

“Because you always leave before the sun comes up.” No accusation in her voice, just the facts.

Raphael went back to hiding his face in her neck. It was true. He was a midnight boyfriend at best. Only around at night; a shadow that disappeared when the first rays of sun filled her room. But how could he even think of stealing away in the night after the first time she let him make love to her? How could he ever bring himself to leave her side again after being one with her so completely?

And he had no idea how to say that out loud to her. So instead he said, “If you want me to leave, I will. But I'd like to stay.”

There was that careful voice again. “Oh...okay...” Then she was still and quiet.

Raphael assumed she dozed off. He was dozing off. But a glance at her showed she was staring at the ceiling.

“I feel like you have something on your mind that you're not telling me,” he accused.

“No. Nothing. You'll go when you feel like it and maybe you'll come back. Or maybe you won't.”

Raphael was so confused. He raised up on his elbow to look down at her. “Why wouldn't I come back?”

She gave what was barely a shrug. “You don't have to if you don't want to. It's okay. I don't expect you to.”

Now he was irritated and sat up fully on the bed. “Why don't you expect me to come back? I love you. I'll always come back for you.”

“I know,” she said with maddening calmness. She sat up as well, moving to her usual respectful distance. “But if you don't, I'm saying it's okay. I'll understand. I can handle it.”

Raphael was immediately taken back to months prior to a conversation he had with April. Back then he was also confused about her responses to him. He went to the only female friend he had to try to get a woman's perspective.

“She doesn't expect anything of you so you can't disappoint her,” April said without even having to think about it. “When enough people let you down, you stop giving them the opportunity. If you don't give anyone your heart, then no one can break it. And if you don't get disappointed in them, they can't get mad at you for feeling that way.”

He still didn't have any of her heart. He thought he did. The way they were wrapped up in each other that night, the way it felt so right. They way she gave her body to him. But it was only her body. Hurt and betrayal filled him.

“You're never going to let me in, are ya? I'll give you my whole heart and you're not going to give anything back.”

She looked away and hunched her shoulders. Her wide-necked shirt fell off one side, revealing the very firm bite mark he had left there the night before. She noticed he saw it and quickly pulled the shirt back up, hunching even more.

“I hurt ya.” The realization stumbled out of his mouth. There were bruises forming on her thighs in the shape of his fingers. Some women liked that. Some women liked to be marked by their men. But some women didn't have permanent marks from others already on their bodies.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rough,” Raphael said. “It's just that...I mean, I love ya so much and...” Ice filled his veins as those words escaped him.

I hurt you because I love you.

Words every man in her life had said to her in one way or another, from her father to her last boyfriend. She wanted just one man in her life that didn't leave his mark upon her. He had promised her he would be that man. He had lied.

Tears of hurt and disappointment stung his eyes. Disappointment in himself. Heart-hurt that he had failed her. And he couldn't beg her forgiveness. That's what they always did. They hurt her and then apologized; said they would never do it again. And then they always would. He could see her across from him, waiting for it. Waiting for the cycle to continue.

“Do you need me to go?” he whispered.

She swallowed, her expression so careful. “Do you want to go?”

“It doesn't matter what I want. What do you need from me? I'll do it. I'll do whatever you ask me to.”

And there it was, the surprise at his response. That he put her needs first. It threw her off. Her facade broke for a second as she struggled with a response.

“Please, tell me honestly what you want,” he pressed. “I won't get mad.”

She struggled with her words. “I...I don't want you to go. But I don't want you to stay if you want to go.”

“Why would I want to go?” he shot out. Then, looking at her shoulder, he added in a softer tone. “You've already marked me long before this. When I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you. Thinking of ways I can be with you; have just a little more of your time. So I can have more opportunities to prove to you that I've meant everything I've ever said. I want to be there for you. I want to see you happy. I want to be the one who makes you happy. And I hate when I can't because I'm...” He looked down at himself. “I've let you down. Probably more times than I know.”

“Raph...” she cut in. “You haven't. You have never lied to me. You've never broken a promise. You always do what you say you're going to do.” She took a breath as if she needed to fortify herself. “You've never made me feel undesired or that I was a bother. I've always felt safe with you. You make me feel like everything's going to be okay, no matter what hot mess I'm in. And you're still here, even when I struggle to give you a fraction of the love you've shown me.

“Last night, you were so gentle and loving.” She rubbed the mark on her shoulder. “And when I was able to make you do this—to make you lose control like that—it made me feel sexy and powerful.”

The side of his mouth ticked up just a little. “To me, Babe, you've always been sexy and powerful.”

“But now that you have what you wanted, I guess I was trying to prepare myself for when you would leave.”

Raphael furrowed his brows in confusion. “You think that's all I wanted? One time and then I'm in the wind forever? I've got news for you, Babe, I plan on making love to you a hundred—a thousand—ten thousand more times. Because when you feel good, Baby, you are a sight. And I wanna keep looking at ya. Probably for the rest of my life.”

Her lips parted slightly in awe, her expression still careful, but daring to believe him. She kept watching him with big, wet eyes and it made his heart ache.

“Sweetheart, you're killing me,” he sighed. “Will you come here and let me hold you? Please.”

She crawled over to him. No hesitance this time. He swept her up into his arms and was even rewarded with a happy sound. Her arms went around his neck, face hidden against his skin as she curled up on his lap.

“That's much better,” he cooed as he rubbed her back. “You know I'm yours, right? I can't go anywhere because I belong to you. I'm yours. I'm always gonna be yours. No matter what happens.”

“I love you,” she said, her voice muffled. “I'm sorry I'm not very good at it.”

“You're as good as I need.” Raphael flopped over on his side, depositing her on the bed so he could hover over her. “Now how about you let me love on you a bit and then we'll have breakfast?”

She cupped his face in her hands and he felt that mark she made on him deep in his heart. A mark he would never recover from and never wanted to. As she kissed his nose, it etched itself even deeper.

She smiled at him, full and joyful. “I would love that.”

@thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83

[jonathanbiers]

sen’s fic rec!

i was going to write an introduction to this but i couldn't think of anything. i just want to show appreciation for a few fics i absolutely loved which in my opinion, haven't got the recognition they deserve. reblogs are encouraged, that's kind of the whole point of this! go and appreciate a writer you love rn.

Hands in your Heart, and Hearts in your Hallway by @sharpbutsoft

stonathan teen & up 3,220 words Jonathan knows, with an aching certainty, that there’s another version of events, another timeline, Will might have said, where this could go differently. Where the first time he straddles another boy, and is forced to face the fact that he likes it more than any boy should, is a tender moment.

my comments: i fully acknowledge that there might be a bias here, as this fic was gifted to me and i got to see it through the various stages of completion, but it’s really something so special. please give it a read if you miss s1 stonathan as much as i do, it does their characters justice in a way that feels so realistic yet hopeful.

how the light gets in by @fastcardotmp3 (series, still in progress)

wheelingham some parts rated m, some rated e 29,427 words Chrissy looks at Nancy Wheeler every day and she knows that this is the good, this girl is the good, with her offerings of sustenance (no matter how limited) and her promises to come back tomorrow again and again and again, never breaking and never missing. And Chrissy would die twice before she hurt the good. That’s the difference, because Chrissy sees blood on her face and in her hair, sees the knots in it and the lack of washing, and all she wants is to create her own pocket of good here.

my comments: the kas!chrissy au i didn't know i needed until it happened, this series is everything. i'm feral about it in a way i can't articulate here without sullying you guys' good image of me (lmfao as if) or getting very, very tmi

Let’s Get Out of This Country by @walkingsaladshooter

surfcheer (argyle/chrissy) teen & up 2,579 words They drive until they find a field of wildflowers. They pick them and weave them into crowns, place them on each other’s heads. The sun is warm and Chrissy asks him if he’s ever read A Wrinkle in Time and he gasps like he just won the lottery. They lie in the sun until her cheeks burn pink and talk about tesseracts and gentle beasts until she nearly feels hoarse.

my comments: this fic was so soft and i still think about it. it captures the vibe i envision them sharing so well. healing to read fr

What Water Gives, It Takes Away by @bitchsteve (saintmares on ao3)

nancy-centric teen & up 3,224 words It’s a strange feeling, the sinking. It’s almost serene, and nothing at all like she had imagined it would be. Not that she had imagined it all that much. Still, as she descends down further and further toward the very bottom of the pool, slipping into a somewhat suspended sitting position, all she feels is calm as all the peace that she had been searching for since they left the Upside Down finally finds her.

my comments: i'm not getting over this fic any time soon. such a spot-on characterization of nancy and all she's been through. getting to see her start down the path of healing and being surrounded by the people she loves (and who love her) it's just...so good.