#OC Paul

[vafr0]

The New Year begins with a redrawing

I can't believe this picture is about six years old...

[flowerofthewave]

set of little guys from the blades game i run!

amber (orange hair) @georginoschkavincenart

hyacintha (green hair) @blood-bride

[jackdaw-writes]

Tag collection for this account!

Please feel free to leave asks about any of my OCs or writing!

Update! You can now ask questions and have them be answered by my OCs!

You can also ask about scenes or AUs and I'll give a few notes about it!

[sillysanddweller]

ty for th tagggg :3

me asn the whitest not white boy ever,, paul ocass,,

New tag game! Use this picrew to make yourself, and your current blorbo

(Mine is Maude Flanders, surprise surprise)

No reassure tags @krispyy-lotol @ablatheringblatherskite @justarandombrit @or-not-2b---i-dont-know @spaghettiwithnachos13 @excusemewotdidyousaytome @literary-lesbian @ginevralinton @nocturnal-cryptid @spineless-lobster @sitdownfeargalyounerd @ticcywhaleshark @ineffablelunatic @blue-eyed-giant and anyone else who would like to :)

[fluffffpillow]

doodles

[whore-ibly-hot]

THROUGH OUR LORD AND SAVIOR @yanderereblogs THE FACULTY HAVE BEEN FOYND AND RETURNED TO US! PRAISE BE TO REBLOGGERS, SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARCHIVISTS!

Yandere Boarding School Part 2, (Faculty)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, smoking, horny posting.

(AN: Part Two has been reuploaded after a takedown, godspeed @yanderereblogs for saving it! Mmmmmm, old men. Everyone pictured as a student is OF LEGAL AGE TUMBLR MODS HOP OFF MY DICK.

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters Son or Daughter!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Ridgemoore Academy being an all male school, this makes it easier to imagine a world where reader is allowed in the school. Now, let's focus on the faculty...

◇ Mr. Joel Murphy, who teaches the majority of the 'life skills' classes at the school. The school being all-boys is very traditional, and teaches things like game hunting and orienteering, which is why they hired a manly-man like Joel. If only they knew what a bitter grump he is. An ex-sheriff of the nearby town, he decided to leave the force after realizing there was no real crime in the small, privileged town, and decided to take up an easy job at the school. Unfortunately, he realized his love for camping and hunting is warped into what he considers 'frilly shit for rich little boys'. He's gruff, barking out orders and easily been exasperated at the sheer incompetence of the boys.

"Shoot one quail, and these boys act like they killed a bear..."

He thought about retiring from yet another job, as living on the ritzy campus just doesn't feel like home to him, and lord knows he's not fond of his job. However, things change when you arrive. Whether you're a delinquent or a little more sweet and obedient, he likes you. If you're a delinquent, he likes seeing a little hell-raiser kick up some shit at the fancy school. If you're sweet or shy, he gets protective. Nice youngins' like you shouldn't be thrown in amongst these spoiled weasels.

He's sure to help you if you need it, a gentle hand on your back as his burly chest presses against your shoulder blades, adjusting your position against the butt of a rifle. Standing by while you're on hands and knees trying to light a fire, making sure none of the boys are trying to get a look at your assessts. Not that he isn't going to, but he justifies it to himself as just making sure your school shorts/skirt is regulation. He's protecting your modesty. After class hours, come to him with any issues, or shit, even his room. He'll put on some coffee and ask you to help him create a curriculum that 'reaches the kids', as your father instructed him to. It's cozy, the fancy school adnorments thrown away for medals and plaques, national parks posters and a few old family photos. He'll keep you tucked in on his warm couch while he strays from curriculum talk to stories of his time in the scouts and on the force. Tells you about how much he loves just... laying out under the stars with somebody special, to sit around a campfire with friends, then slyly ask is you've ever had somebody to do that with. He knows you're younger than him, and he struggles with the idea that you won't want him cause of it, so for now, he'll bask in the feeling of seeing you curled up in his room, keeping the idea of picking you up and having you accept his cock to himself. If you can get pregnant, his fists his cock to the thought of that too. He's not some horned up boy, he wants you in the long term.

He looooooves the yearly orienteering final, in which the students in the class are made to go on an actual camping trip. It's possible a tent will 'accidentally' go missing, leaving you to bunk with him. Don't worry, nothing bads gonna happen while you've got this burly bear of a man practically spooning you, warm gut from his dad-bod pressed against you as he tries his best to make sure he doesn't scare you.

"Sorry those damn boys left your tent back at the school, kiddo. I... wouldn't be suprised of one of them did it on purpose, little bastards." He grumbles, hoping you'll take the hint to separate yourself from those immature preps and stick to being with a man who can treat you right. "Remember that lesson from a couple weeks ago, on body heat? I know it's awkward, but we've only got one sleeping bag. You feel like you can trust this old man to keep you warm?" Unfortunately for his ego and trying to keep down his urges, the trees aren't going to be the only wood in the morning.

◇ Mr. Paul Burton, head of the arts department. He's so over this, a once decent artist who dabbled in pop art and theatre only to stop getting gigs and be black-listed after offending several more famous artists, calling their work 'sell-out chic', he's now a burn-out who smokes and ignores his students all class. He's passionate about art, but frankly he doesn't want tow aste his time teaching when he knows these rats are taking his class for easy credit. He's only teaching here to utilize the facilities and studios so he's not living in a van in the Walmart parking lot. A mix of hippie culture, live and let live and cynical burnout, he's so. Fucking. Done. But... maybe you change that for him.

You're interesting, a headmasters child who doesn't fit in to your fathers perfect mold? Maybe a rebellious student who goes against the grain of this perfect school. Or a blooming ray of sunshine in this dark den of privilege and conformist curriculum for the future lawyers of the world. Either way, he's found a new muse. See him after class.

He'll be thrilled if you're into art, let him guide you. Tell him your favorite artists and he'll tell you when he threw up on there shoes by accident in his hey-day. Gossip about a student you don't like, he'll listen while he smokes and tell you about how that guys mom hit on him. He loves to gossip, but he loves to watch you create more. The way your hands shape a vase or brush across a canvas light a fire in him he hasn't felt in a while. He's more willing to forgo the age gap between you, while it's never something he considered before, he knows he's not gonna let go of the one thing that makes him feel like he lives again. Besides, he's always been unconventional.

He'll have you stay after class, maybe he'll have you pose nude for a painting, assuring you it's fins, it's platonic, it's just for the love of art. He chooses and extra large canvas, it lets him paint while he relieves himself as you explain you're getting cold. He'll put on some artsy, silent, black and white film from the 30s, and while you watch and slowly realize it's pornographic, He'll grin to himself while he watches you flush. He'll ask you all sorts of questions about your thoughts on the film, the actors, what they're doing. He really wants to figure out how experienced you are. "What do you think of the composition? It's really carnal, you know?" He puts out his cigarette. "I'm glad I can show this to you, you'll actually appreciate it. You're not giggling like an idiot when some guys penis is out on the screen." He groans, thinking of his other students.

He does actually like one student, though they make an odd pair. Joseph's easily spooked and shy personality clashes with the brash older man's, but he's glad to have someone he can think of as a protege. Someone who loves art as much as him, but get isolated for it. He was doing a portfolio look over when Joseph accidentally turned in the wrong folder. Joseph feels like he might die as Mr. Burton, a man he admires, flips through nude pictures of the object of his affection, and at a distance no less. A part of him wants to rip it away, but he needs this scholarship.

"Please, please, sir! I-I'll never do it again, it was just a phase, I didn't mean for you to see-"

"They're good." Mr. Burton flips through the folder. "Real good. You could really get somewhere with these, maybe not in the fine art scene, but... tell you what." He adjusts his glasses and leans forward on his desk. "We'll do a special session, you and me, yeah? I'll get your friend here, and I'll vouch for your integrity so you can take some less-" he purses his lips. "Stalker-ish pics- Jesus, kid, is that taken from a tree?"

☆ Anatoli Sidorov, probably the best paid staff given how they got him here. He's a Russian coach for a former Olympic Russian swim team, and he joined the prestigious American school to escape shame after he 'resigned' post a doping scandal which he swears he wasn't involved in. (Whether he was or not is your choice.) Still, he's led the boys swim team and track team to nationals several times, and he's a legend among the wealthy benefactors of the school. He's outwardly very serious, hard on his team but respectful of them. He doesn't put up with any unruly or unsportsmanlike behavior from his boys, at least not what he can see. He's very nice deep down, intellectual and funny, though he still struggles with American humor and English.

He adores you when he meets you, milking about with the other students before class. You seem genuinely social, and wanting to fit in. The idea someone could be so welcoming warms his heart. Deep down, he misses his home, and he misses the friends he once had. You're warm, and he likes that. Not to mention, you're a looker. He's embarrassed, especially if you're male, seeing as he never considered swinging the other way, and much less with someone younger. But he can't help but stare when your pretty tits bounce as you run, or the way those jogging shorts hardly conceal your bulge. He even pulled you to the side one to scold you for not wearing regulation gym clothes, before realizing they were and awkwardly sending you back into class. That was a moment of self-reflection for him.

He's not necessarily outwardly softer to you, you might even think he doesn't like you, given that he has you stay late to run or jump rope, or constantly pulls you into time out mid-game. It's all for your own good, trust him. He doesn't like the way some of the boys were looking at you, and he could tell Evan was a only a play away from trying to practically hump you while trying to 'get the ball'. He's made Harrison, who he loves as a player, run laps for talking to you for only a few minutes. He hates feeling like a jealous boy, but he can't help it. You make him feel young.

He establishes a private locker room area for you, since you're the headmasters kid and not an official student. Besides, you're clearly being harassed by the others! So, he's got a nice little closet for you, with a not suspicious air freshener that's not a hidden camera, and a private key only you have access to. (Technically that's true, he just has a bypass key for himself.) He'll snatch a pair of boxers or some panties, slipping them into his track coat for later. Eventually, he'll tell you he's worried you aren't able to catch up to the others, given that you arrived later and started the gym curriculum later than the others. He'll start having extra 'make-up' workouts with you, starting with stretching. One leg uo on the bar, you'll have to excuses his cold hand running along your thigh, or stroking over your chest as him just admiring how your strength and flexibility is evolving. He relishes the feeling of your body on his, groping you under the guise of training and resisting the urge to just slip aside your gym shorts and veg you to take him.

"Little star, part 'dem a little, there ve go." He keeps your legs parted as he works you into a position on your back, against the rubber mats the tumbling team had laid out. He lays just over you, pushing your legs back a little further with his arms, just far away enough to keep you from noticing his hard on, but enough to lightly press it against the plush swell of your ass. Good, let's just- fuck- hold. Let's hold."

☆ Kory Koffman, English teacher and part time librarian! The school outs so much effort into sports, both admin and students seem to forget about him. Hell, the library is used so little they fired the librarian, and he took it upon himself to try and care for the building himself. He's a sweet, shy man, who just wants to share his passion for literature with others. However, unlike Mr. Burton, he was never popular or famous, so he's content to keep to himself, but the loneliness does get to him.

When you wandered into his library one day, maybe looking for a book or seeking refuge from a hoarde ofadmirers, he was happy to welcome you into his little safe haven. He'll give you some warm tea from the little coffee machine he has set up, and sit you down. Let him help you find a book, or tell you about his creative writing class? He'd let you join, even late in the semester! It's not a very full class.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself craving the attention of another, of someone else's company, other than his books. He hasn't felt that need for connection since he was a boy, after his momma passed. He'll do anything to keep you there, and if reading isn't your thing, much to his chagrin, he'll add a DVD section to the library, but only good films and classic for you! No Adam Sandler, those movies are to overstimulating for poor Mr. Koffman.

As his feelings turn romantic, he's ashamed. You're a student, and he's a lonely old man, you deserve someone better, someone your age. However, the thought of you being with any of the many students who mock him in the halls or disrupt his class, the thought of hand you over to those-those imbeciles, hurts him. He wants you, and he's ashamed at the way his trousers go tight when you bend over to get a fallen book, or when you hand him his glasses after he misplaced them (again), the fact he just stares at your finger prints for awhile and refuses to clean the lens. He's not had sex in a long, long time, but he finds himself masturbating more than he ever did when he was younger. He'll watch library security footage openly, moaning and whimpering at his desk with no fear anybody will stop in, no one ever does but you. He wants you as his spouse, you already make his library, his home away from home seem brighter, imagine what you could do for his actual apartment.

"Oh, hello! It's good to see you, it's been a bit." He's a little bitter at that last statement, but adjusts his glasses and continues. "Just remember to stop by often, okay? I'd really, really hate to impose the late policy on you..."

☆ Atticus Critch, the schools latin instructor and head sponsor of student body, (not to mention the man in charge of detention), is a strict disciplinarian. He takes no nonsense from anyone, and despises the behavioral pardons given to boys like Evan or Harrison simply because they are athletes. Peter is obviously his favorite, and when he catches wind of the ways the boys around campus are speaking about you, he decides to take it upon himself to remove the distraction, by having Carter trail you and give you detention for minor inconveniences. Carter isn't particularly thrilled at always having to send you to detention instead of extorting you to get his rocks off, but he's hoping maybe he'll get to 'monitor' detention one of these days.

Initially, Mr. Critch has you doing small tasks, writing lines or organizing things, but soon he starts to see the appeal. If you're a good student for the most part, he's determined to keep you good, and away from all the vermin in this school. If you're bad, he's had plenty of experience in taming brats. He's open with his sexual desires, it his growing affection for you that makes him struggle.

If you've stayed out too late and broke curfew, you can spend detention on your knees, suckling his cock into the late hours. Maybe you've been running around with Tyler. He'll make you lay down on his desk and deny you your climax over and over again, asking 'if not making you cum' is what that boy does to you, never fully satisfying you. He'll make you beg to finish, and to promise you'll be good from now on.

"Come on, repeat it. Tell me you'll be good now, that you won't bother with BOYS-" He annuciates with a thrust, "When you have a man right here, whose willing to take time out of his day to discipline you!" One the amorous session is over though, he definitely softens, trying to prove he's more than a boy in many ways, including good aftercare. He'll dress your limp form back up in your uniform and walk you get you a cup of water from the fountain. "Only ten minutes till your detention is over, dear. Just sit there, take some time to reflect on how you got here." His tone is demeaning, but as he pets your scalp, his touch is so feather-light. Don't expect is to last into the next day though.

[melaninforkings]

a piece of me dies every time im reading a fic and taylor swift lyrics pop up😭 then i realize the description of the oc or “reader” are very white coded like OH! that’s not…

[eclipseiz]

The Gladiator 18+

pairing- hanno/lucius x fem! oc 1310 words

(♡ synopsis)- general acacius's daughter became intrigued by the violent gladiator she saw perform in the games and just had to meet him. (lucilla is not her mother)

warnings- p in v, dirty talk, fingering

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Sabina Acacius was a strong willed woman that always made sure to get what she wanted. When she saw ‘Hanno’, as they called him in the colosseum she immediately knew she would seek him out when the time was up in the emperor's section.

After the gladiator had beheaded the contestant Geta and Caracalla had chosen she got up from her seat, “Emperors, An entertaining game as usual. I bid you a good night. I must retire to my room for some needed rest.”

Geta only waved the girl off, more focused on relishing in the applause from the people of Rome, making the girl roll her eyes before catching the General's glare in warning, “Father. Lucilla” she nodded, “I will see you back at home."

Sabina didn't waste a moment to rush out of the colosseum and down the busy streets of Rome towards the Gladiators holding cells. When she arrived at the entrance she pulled her hood up and maneuvered around the training fighters to the back corner where Ravi had Hanno sitting to be stitched.

“Quite a deep cut.” she commented, giving Ravi a kind smile.

“M’lady it's been too long.” he smiled back before focusing back on the task at hand. Hanno watched their interaction in silence observing the girl he saw in the emperor's box, sitting next to the man he vowed to kill and his mother.

Sabina pulled her hood down and sat on the bench in front of the men, “You put up a great fight Gladiator. I wanted to come down and greet you personally. You impressed the Emperors.”

“That carries no importance to me.” Hanno grunted out moving his eyes to the wound Ravi prodded with. “Now what's the real reason you're down here. Certainly not to talk of my achievement.”

Sabina smirked at his sass and crossed her legs, “Perhaps it is, you've intrigued me.” 

Hanno furrowed his brow, “This isn't a safe place for a lady of your status.” he said plainly, taking a drag of the mixture Ravi gave to him.

Ravi pointed at a rag that sat next to Sabina to which she handed it to him, leaning in more towards Hanno. “I saw the sour looks you threw towards my father. What's the reason for such emotions?” she asked curiously.

A dark look passed over the gladiator's face, “That would be business between the General and I.”

Sabina hummed while Ravi backed up, “You're stitched up Hanno. I suggest you take a bath, you stink of filth.” he chuckled and patted him on the back. “Nice to see you Sabina.” he bid them a goodbye.

Hanno stood as did Sabina, “I'll escort you to the tub.” she smiled at the aggravated look that washed over him. The pair walked side by side in silence before stepping into the large room with the large tub of hot water in the middle. “Well I shall leave you to rid yourself of the remnants from tonight's game.”

“Wont stay to question me anymore?” he raised an eyebrow while unclipping his armor.

Sabina watched as he undressed cheeks heating up, “Not while you are without clothes, no.” she said perplexed and turned her back, “ You'd like to answer my curiosity?” Once she heard the water splashing she turned back to see Hanno sat in the steaming water, head leaned neck with his eyes shut.

“Nothing with the General.” he said before opening his eyes and moving his gaze to hers.

Sabina moved in closer, slipping her sandals off and hiking her dress up. She sat down next to him and dipped her legs into the water. “What were you before all of this?” she watched the bruised man let a sigh out.

“A farmer.” he answered plainly. 

She hummed, “Does any family wait for you?”.

Hanno tensed, “My wife was my family. She was killed when your people invaded.”

The girl nodded, “Rome is in a dark time, not even the citizens feel safe.”

“And do you?” he questioned looking at her.

Sabina pondered, “I worry for the innocent Romans who will be caught in the crossfire when the twins' leadership fails.” Hanno chose not to answer and began to wash his arms, careful of the wounds his body had received before standing.

Sabina looked away at the man's naked form, “You can look. You say I intrigued you and it cannot be my soul in which that did.” he looked down at her.

She cautiously turned back and looked at his face before her eyes moved down to his muscular chest littered with scars, cuts, and bruises. She stood and moved in front of him reaching out and traced a jagged white line that sat on his right pec. Hanno said nothing and instead looked at her features and the way her eyebrows furrowed with every wound she felt.

Sabina’s eyes lingered on his abs before moving down to his half hard cock between them. She had been with one man before and he had been nowhere close to the size Hanno was, “I should return to my chambers.” yet she made no move to leave.

“Perhaps.” he whispered moving his hands to her waist

Sabina didn't waste a moment before crashing her lips into his chapped ones, hands moving to his shoulders and around his neck. His hands gripped her harder, lifting her up with ease and setting her up onto the counter behind her. Hanno stood between her open legs exploring her mouth with his tongue, driven with frustration and desperation.

He gripped the bottom of her dress and tapped her hips in order for her to lift them so he could punch her dress to her waist. “Are you sure you want this Sabina?” he asked breathlessly. Although he hated the girls father he had to admit something about the girl made him addicted

“I've wanted this since I saw you in the games, please Hanno.” and with that he returned to her lips and brushed his fingers agaisnt her soaking pussy. She moaned into his mouth and gripped the hair at the nape of his neck.

Pushing one finger into her he circled her clit with his thumb. Relishing in the way she tightened her walls. “Feel how wet I make your cunt?” He whispered between her swollen lips.

Sabina whimpered, “Please-more Hanno, please give me more.” she moaned out

He pushed another finger in and curled them up in her g-spot and sped his pace on her clit bringing her to the cusp of an orgasm before pulling away leaving the girl a gasping mess, “No-why?” said asked

Hanno gripped the base of his cock and lined it up to her entrance before leaning down to her forehead, “When I get you to cum I want it to be around my cock.” he said before pushing up into her all the way to the hilt. Sabina moaned, gripping his back, adding more cuts with her nails, “You're taking me so well my beautiful girl.” he gritted out while thrusting into her at a fast pace.

“Cum with me, my gladiator.” Sabina gasped out.

Hanno worked his hips into her, tip hitting her cervix, “Let go.” he commanded and that all she needed to hear before an orgasm washed over her, Hanno followed burying his hips deep into hers.

The pair caught their breath before separating, Sabina pulling her dress down and feeling a mixture of their cum leaking out of her while Hanno pulled a uniform over his head. 

“I shall see you at the colosseum in coming days.” She combed her hair out and moved towards the exit but he caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.

“I ask of you to pay me a visit after the game, that is if I survive.” he smirked

Sabina smiled and nodded, “If that is what you want my gladiator.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Part Two

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[jessica-problems]

my most embarassingly specific character flaw is that I genuinely cannot remember the difference between the directors Paul W. S. Anderson(Resident Evil, Mortal Kombat, Event Horizon, etc), and Wes Anderson (Fantastic Mister Fox, Grand Budapest Hotel, Isle of Dogs).

for the longest time I thought they were the same guy with, just, really inconsistent quality. but even now, gun to my head, I couldn't tell you which guy is which without looking it up.

[shan-yee]

𝙼𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚗𝚎 2 𝚒𝚗 2023 :

𝚅𝚜 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 :

....𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎...

(Y’all when I tell you i’m going to write for that man…)

[nightcorecarseatheadrest]

Meanwhile, in that parallel canon….

[spooksier]

shout out to the pronoun havers

[impish-baby]

Can we get more from that angsty family drabble? :3 maybe your big sister goes and tells her dad now how you treated her and how pop pop threatened to kick them out and he is NOT happy?

Villian and violent - platonic yandere estranged family x reader - 🧸

"Lizzy's crying."

Paul raises an unimpressed eyebrow at his son, not really caring in the slightest.

"Is that right? Sucks. She shouldn't be causing problems if she doesn't want to be told off." The older man shrugs, going back to piling food onto the plate in his hand. "I wasn't kiddin', by the way. Your mother is the one who invited you, not me. You can get lost for all I care."

"Really?" Damien sighs roughly, dragging a hand down his face. "What she do that was so bad, huh? You're not even giving her a chance, pops."

"You didn't even wait to get the full story before running off to defend your little girl?" Paul scoffs, shaking his head. "Figures. You know, I thought maybe you'd be more interested in seeing your firstborn again, don't know why i was foolin' myself knowing your track record."

"...bug is here?" The hopeful tilt in Damien's voice is unmistakable, "Y- You're serious? Where are they-"

The plate isn't even sat down that loudly, but it still makes the man flinch.

"You," Damien shrinks away at his father's cold glare. "Ain't talking to them. We don't need you ruining things for the rest of us. Again."

"That isn't fair." It is in a way, but Damien doesn't want to admit that, not now. His kid is here. His baby. He needs to see them before the chance is gone, "I'm their father, I should be able to speak with them."

"An idiot is what you are." The older man scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Shirley barely convinced them into coming, and they tried to bolt as soon as your lot showed up. You're just gonna muck it up more than it already is."

Damien storms off, fed up with the conversation already. It doesn't matter, there's more important things to do than argue.

[ajdhbear]

My biggest pride and joy: Paul ❤️

He’s my interpretation of what Maul’s father could have been like. Learned the whole sacrificial lore is from Legends, so what’s stopping me?

(In my AU, Savage has a deadbeat father so Maul’s dad “adopts” him. I have yet to figure out how Feral will fit into this story)

[romanreignsbae]

A Paradise in Paradise💗 🌊☀️

SMUT❗️Warnings: praise kink, daddy kink, unprotected p in v, Oral (f receiving) Otherwise just fluff!💕

As Y/n laid on her lounge chair, she finally felt a sense of peace wash over her. Finally her and her husband Joe had some alone times to themselves.

Since Joe was taking a break after his most recent WrestleMania loss to Cody Rhodes, he decided it was the perfect opportunity to take his girl on a nice vacation. But Joe being himself always went above and beyond with it. He rented out a whole private island in Hawaii, just for him and his wife. He almost himself thought he did too much, but the smile it brought to his beautiful wife’s face made it all worth it.

Y/n was reading her novel she chose for this trip while tanning peacefully. “Baby! Come on, let’s go in the water!” her husband shouted.

Y/n shot up from her chair and made her way through the sand to him. “There you are! I missed you!” Joe told her dramatically while planting kisses all over her face.

She let out a giggle and cuddled into his chest. "Let’s go in the water!” she screamed out excitedly. She’d been dying to go to the beach ever since he announced this trip.

He threw her over his shoulder and sprinted towards the water. “Ah! Put me down!” Y/n squealed as they got closer to the water. The couple landed into the teal beach water with one big splash. They rose from the water at the same time and wrapped each other’s arms around one another.

After some time of messing around in the water they decided to head back to their luxurious villa. “Look at my tan lines! I feel like a new person!” Y/n told Joe while moving her bikini strap to show him her new tan lines. “You look beautiful as ever” he told her. She blushed. Her husband always had a way with words.

The couple took a shower, and decided to get ready for the dinner Joe had planned out. Y/n exited the bathroom wearing a beautiful silky dress Joe had picked out just for her. “Woooo damn baby, are you cinderella, cause that dress gon be gone at midnight!” Joe said. Y/n laughed at her husband’s corniness. But she had to admit that was a good one.

“You look so beautiful too handsome.” Joe felt his cheeks heating up. Even though he was the talker in their relationship whenever his wife threw a compliment his way, he always felt shy about it. Y/n loved how she could make him shy too though.

The couple shared a beautiful Hawaiian themed dish together for dinner, and then headed back to the beach for a late night walk. While walking together quietly in the sand, Joe decided to spike some conversation. “Babyyy it’s almost midnight, I get to take that dress off you soon..” Joe said whispered to her, while purposely brushing his lips against her ear. He felt her skin grow goosebumps on it. Y/n felt a wave of neediness and desire for him surge through her body.

“Mmm sure..let’s just go back now..” Y/n told him. His eyes lit up excitedly while picking her bridal style and heading back to their villa.

Once they got back Joe placed her on the corner of their king sized bed, and slowly began taking her low sandal heels off. “Hurry up” Y/n pleaded him. Joe let out a chuckle at her sudden neediness. “Ok babydoll chill.”

Once he successfully took off her heels he brought her up from the bed and began unzipping her dress. “Oh my days! I swear, if you don’t hurry up!” Y/n complained. “Talk one more time without permission and you ain’t gettin nun tonight” Joe told her threateningly. Y/n let out a small sigh knowing she couldn’t fight him on this.

After she was fully undressed he laid her down gently on her back, back onto their bed. He slowly began undressing himself making Y/n more and more impatient.

Finally after what felt like an entirety for y/n, he was finally all undressed. He crawled up onto Y/n and moved in for a passionate kiss.

Their tongues both fought for dominance, and Joe won. He removed himself from her lips and ran his thumb over her puffy bottom lip. He placed one more peck on her lips before travelling down towards her neck. He nibbled at her sweet spot causing a small moan to leave her lips. She felt him smirk at the sound.

His kisses traveled down towards her chest where he took one of her breasts and massaged it thoroughly. She let out a sigh at the motion of his hands. He brought his face down to her breast where he brought her nipple into his mouth. He toyed around with it, slightly sucking, and biting down. He felt her hips starting roll against his to create friction. “Don’t try anythin yet you needly little slut. My little slut.” he told her roughly. “Ima take my time wit you.” She whimpered with impatience.

His kisses traveled from her breasts, down her stomach, and he pulled away. Avoiding the spot she needed his mouth most. “Please daddy” she whimpered. “Hmm I don’t know, you’ve been extra impatient today..” he teased her. “I promise i’ll be so good daddy just- please” she begged. Without warning he dove right into her pussy causing a loud moan to escape her lips.

He ate her like a starved man and purposely sucked extra hard on her sensitive bundle of nerves. After a few minutes a familiar feeling began to build up in her tummy. “D-daddy i’m gonna-” she tried to communicate but it was difficult when he was devouring her. He hummed, sending vibrations to go through her body. After one last suck on her clit she came undone. He licked every last bit of her essence and finally pulled away. “T-thank you daddy” she said shakily as she was still recovering from her earth shattering orgasm.

“Your welcome sweetheart, ya better be good for daddy now” he said to her. She nodded her heard reassuringly at his words. Joe stroked himself a few times before lining himself up with her entrance. He pushed in slowly causing a loud groan to leave his lips. Y/n gasped in pain and pleasure at the sudden fullness. He knew he has to take it slow with her. The size god blessed him with wasn’t something he could just slam into her. He looked down to see tears filling her eyes. “Hey, hey. Baby you okay?” he asked her. He would never wanna hurt his beautiful wife. She nodded her head. “Yeah just feels so big” she said softly while putting on a soft smile for him.

After staying still for a minute Y/n spoke up. “Baby, you can move now.” With one final look at his wife for reassurance Joe pushed forward. “Pussy’s all mine. All mine.” Both of them moaned loudly. “All yours daddy!” she chanted. When they made love they couldn’t help themselves from the noises that came out of their mouths. “You feel so fuckin good baby.” Joe thrusted in and out of her at a steady pace until he felt her squeeze around him. He knew her body in and out and that meant she was close. “You gonna cum baby?” he asked her. “Yes!” she moaned. “Me too, hold up.”

He reached down moving his fingering over her clit, and that was it. Her body starting shaking and with one more thrust he released himself into her, filling her up. He let her orgasm ride out and then he rolled off of her and pulled her into his chest. “You okay princes? Need anything?” he asked in a concerned tone. “No i’m okay I just wanna get some sleep” she told him in a hoarse tone. “Okay baby” he told her before pressing a soft kiss to her temple. He made sure she was in a deep sleep before he fell into his own.

[ladybirdswritings]

HUNTRESS, FIC — emperor geta x reader.

DESCRIPTION: the blood of the emperor’s brother is on your hands, a betrayed huntress facing death in the colosseum. your every move watched by the vengeful emperor who loathes you as much as you despise him. but amidst blood, betrayal, and survival, hatred begins to twist into something dangerous. NOTES - little enemies to lovers fic !! leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

one;

The thrum of hundreds of drums cocooned your ears in an awful medley, vibrations snaking like vines across your very skin.

Here and now, standing before scorching iron twisting into mangled gates, you allowed a chill to kiss your skin.

You were afraid—very afraid—and for good reason. But even so, gladiators didn’t cower before their fate.

It was a good thing that wasn’t what you were.

This was all just an unfortunate consequence of one painfully violent decision.

For my brother… you had whispered into the chill of the winter season as you plunged a gold, ornate blade into the chest of the wrong ginger.

Sure, the younger one was no better than the older. Even so, it was not his crimson you had wished to coat your hands with, for he had not killed Pietro. Geta had.

And Geta would kill you too. Whatever growled beyond these iron gates was no better than a gruesome death.

“Huntress,” Lucien called, clad in bronze armor and pleated wraps. You winced.

“Don’t call me that.”

But he paid you no mind as he stepped forward, wrapping your lanky arm in a cuff of gold.

“It’s what you are, what you must be, if you intend to slay whatever beast lurks beyond these gates. Listen to me: do not be foolish in there. Do not give them a show. You run, and you hide in the very dirt if you must. Here.”

With a worried glance toward the guards, he hastily pulled out three violet berries and pressed them into your palm. His calloused skin guided your hand to wrap around them.

“This is poison. You squeeze, and it erupts into a sea of death. Use these, and you may survive.”

May.

It was too awful a word—too insignificant.

“Bring out the girl!” a horrid, broken voice roared to his many peasants. The iron groaned in deep complaint as the gates began to part.

It was then that you felt every bit the weak, fearful girl you truly were. Your doe-like eyes locked on Lucien’s. His palms gripped your biceps, a huff of frustration escaping him as he scanned your face—perhaps to remember it. Then he leaned forward to press a warm kiss to your forehead.

He was saying goodbye.

“You will survive,” he murmured against your skin. All you could do was nod with a gulp as he pulled away.

Facing the liquid gold rays of the sun now blinding you, you stepped through the gates.

Despise was not a strong enough word to describe just how much these people loathed you.

So destroyed over the death of half of their precious emperors. You scowled at the thought—the same emperors who kept them on pretty leashes.

Slickened tomatoes crushed beneath your boots as you limped forward. You were no better than Pietro here, and it seemed as though history was only going to repeat itself.

Bruised beneath the bronze armor, thirsty and starved, they had purpled your skin, nearly dislocated your hip, and robbed you of any sustenance that could aid you in this impossible battle.

They had cheated, just as they had with your brother in this awful colosseum.

You would die on the very same dirt as your brother had—your twin.

Even so, a vicious grin tugged at your lips when your eyes locked on the lone ginger emperor scowling down at you. His jaw was taut, his arms littered with veins, but his eyes—they gave him away. Dark. Exhausted.

Even if you were to stain his dirt with your blood, he would remain as you were now: a lone twin. His brother in the dirt, too.

Perhaps your revenge had not been such a disaster after all.

“Traitorous whore!” he screeched at you, and the peasants roared in agreement.

His words were no bother. You’d fight well enough—and when you died, you’d die with a smile.

“Bring out her death!”

Vibrations crawled up your calves as you squeezed the oak wood bow clasped in your hand—your only weapon.

The gates opposing you parted, welcoming two awful horns held back only by frayed rope and a growling man atop the beast.

“He shall impale you as you impaled my brother!” Geta growled from his castle above, his voice guttural and animalistic.

“BEGIN!”

His roar was so vicious you swayed on your feet.

Perhaps the bow was meant to deter you from survival, but you were grateful for it now. With your weak bones, you had no chance of surviving close battle. No chance of escaping a sword fight or a seething rhinoceros.

But your bow—you could fight from afar.

Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum. The beast neared closer, working into a charge so vicious it drowned out the crowd’s excitement. You could feel Geta’s eyes scorching your skin.

He did not simply want you dead. He wanted you mangled.

“HUNTRESS—KILL THEM!” Lucien roared from behind the gates, snapping you back into the present moment.

Your purpled hands trembled as you grabbed an arrow and loaded your bow. You had to treat this as any other time—locked away in the forest with just you, the glades, and your bow.

A rhinoceros could be no different from a fawn, right? Animals—all the same. And you were starving now, just as you had been all the other times you hunted.

Closer, closer. You steadied your rapid breaths best you could— imagining doe-eyes approaching as opposed to horns and squinting as you found the place between the beast’s brows.

Closer.

Even closer.

A moment more and you’d lose your shot, so you released the tension-bound arrow.

Laughter—cruel, cold, and entirely at your expense—rattled the stadium.

Your eyes fell to the ground, where the arrow landed not two feet away from your boots.

No, no, no.

Your fingers trembled against the string. It was loose.

Bastard.

Your eyes flicked to Geta’s, cold and swimming with satisfaction. He had rigged your bow.

And the beast was still charging.

“HUNTRESS!” Lucien’s cry was lost on your ears as you steadied your feet. Your heart hummed like a bird in your chest.

You hissed as sharp pain licked the flesh of your wrist. Violet trickled from your cuff.

The berries.

Crying out in exasperation, you shook the berries free.

You would be impaled in a moment, but at least the poison would piss the wretched thing off.

With a cry, you crushed the berries in your palm, tossing the violet liquid into the air just as the horn grazed your bronze armor.

And you waited.

No darkness or light found you.

A screech so awful it could have burst your eardrums shook the colosseum. The beast reared back, thrashing in a violent dance before collapsing to the dirt.

Its tongue slack, its eyes white, it crushed the man commanding it.

You breathed then. For the first time.

As your eyes lifted, you found a flicker of awe in Geta's gaze-beyond his rage.

The colosseum roared in disbelief as Geta flipped the fruits and wine before him, storming away.

And you breathed.

Alive.